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Oola

“I need to ask you something.” Shara said, her voice as still as the thick night air.

Oola kept her eyes on the moon, as silvery figures continued to dance along the ragged edge. It had been a hands worth of days since they had first noticed the moon-eaters at work. But already they had turned the familiar orb of the night into a stranger, a tree stump rotting away from one side.

“Oola?”

“Mm?” Another monster dashed forwards and another bit of the moon was gone.

“If I told you that I had a dream, and then it came true, would you think I was lying?”

That jolted her, and she turned to stare at her friend, just a dark shadow against the ebbing firelight “What do you mean?”

“I had a dream about the scorpions, just before –”

Oola waved her hand dismissively “Yes, yes, everyone knows about that.”

Shara recoiled. “Oola. Please listen. This is important.”

Oola sighed, and turned away from the moon, meeting Shara’s dark eyes. “Okay. Go on.”

“That wasn’t the only one. I also had a dream about our return to Red Cave. I had a dream about the burning dead.”

Oola blinked, the memories erupting anew, ice-fear pouring into her veins. She pulled her blanket closer “Tell me about your dream.”

Shara looked away, towards the darkened trees. “I’ve had dreams about burning for a long time – ever since that one man was caught in the grass fire.”

“Everyone has dreams, Shara.” Oola said, softly.

“Yes, but this one was different. I dreamed we were walking across the burned out plains, heading back to Red Cave. As we crossed the river, we could see dark shapes smoldering. I went to check on one, and it rose up, grabbing for me. There was- there was a golden flash, and that’s when I woke up.”

Oola shuddered, her skin tingling with the eerie familiarity of Shara’s dream. She could still feel the burning hands, and the sickly-sweet smell of roasting flesh.

“Oola?”

“Sorry! I was remembering that… day…”

“What do you think I should do.”

Oola frowned. “I think you should talk to Armis. Doesn’t he have the next watch?”

“No… Mika and Lam have the next watch. Then Armis, I think- What was that?” Shara gasped, clutching at Oola’s hand, gripping it tightly.

Oola stared at her. “What? Hear what? The crickets?” She stared out at the darkness, searching the moon-shadows for movement.

“Everyone! Wake up!” Shara’s shout made her jump, and she scrambled to her feet.

“Shara? What are you doing?” She hissed. But her friend ignored her, her voice thick with fear. The others scrambled out of their beds, grabbing their spears.

“What is it, Shara?” Kito said.

“I heard a sound, and…” She paused.

“And you freaked out and woke everyone up?” Barak said, mockingly.

“Yes.. I mean no… I heard something.” Shara insisted.

“Oola, did you hear it too?” Armis.

Oola gulped, uncomfortable. What should I say?

“I think… I think it was just an animal.” She said, slowly.

Shara stared at her.

“Shara.. I’m sorry…” Oola said, shaking her head. “I was scared at first too, but I think we were just jumpy…”

The others stared at Shara. “Great.” Barak snorted. “Another night’s sleep ruined by miss Afraid-of-the-dark.”

Shara’s head drooped, her long black hair shrouding her face, and she shook quietly in the ebbing firelight, her sobs barely audible.

The back of Oola’s neck grew warm as a sudden rush of anger filled her heart. “Shut up, Barak, you worthless creep. I hope your wounds fester. I hope you get the rotting disease. I hope you die screaming in pain you miserable -”

“Oola!” Armis said, wide-eyed.

“-waste of meat!” She finished, eyes burning.

Barak laughed dismissively “No chance of that.” He said, stretching his arms carefully. “Kito did an amazing job, I’m almost completely better.”

Armis turned and stared at the big man, fight forgotten “What? It’s only been…”, he counted quickly, “two days. I’ve seen men die from wounds like those.”

Barak shrugged. “Don’t ask me, ask Kito.”

Armis turned again as the boy crept forward. “Kito, what did you do?”

Kito smiled nervously and shrugged. “I covered the wounds with river mud, and wrapped him with bands of deerskin.”

Her fingernails digging into her palm, Oola watched the others gather around Barak, examining the rapidly healing scars on his back.

This isn’t over.

She turned away, breathing deep, her heart racing.

Where is Shara?

She glanced at the crowd around Barak, but she wasn’t there. Curious, she spun around, examining the campsite.

There. A flicker of movement from the edge of the camp. Oola circled back and away from the others, careful not to attract attention.

“Shara?” she called, quietly as the murmur of the camp died behind her. “Shara?”

She’s out here. She can hear me.

“Shara.” A little louder this time. “Don’t run away. We spent all day that last time looking for you. Please come back.”

“Leave me alone.”

At least she’s talking. Oola started following Shara’s voice.

“Shara, please. I had to tell the truth.. I didn’t want-”

“Just leave me alone. I thought you were my friend.”

Oola stopped short. “Your- your- friend?” She stammered. “What- How?”

Oola raised her hands, as if she was trying to hold the accusation, and then flung them back down

“Shara, I’m sorry… I… I’m just sorry.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Shara, please.” Oola sighed.

No response. Her hands fluttered involuntarily, helplessly. “Okay, Fine.” She said, turning back towards the camp, fighting back tears.

“Go back to bed, everyone.” Armis said. “Lam, Mika – its your watch.”

=-=

Oola awoke suddenly, the chirping of the night-crickets singing in her ears. Though Sun had not quite risen, the pale blue of the morning was starting to show in the sky. As always, the morning air was damp and cold, the dew already starting to cover the grass. A single drop glistened on the blade nearest to her face. Quietly, she sat up, and saw Shara sleeping just an arm’s length away. Anger and relief warred briefly in her heart, before she was distracted by the soft sigh of the settling fire.

The chill closed around her, seeping into her bones. She shivered, and curled up beneath her furs, wrapping her arms around her chest. Closing her eyes, she slowed her breathing, seeking sleep. But her mind betrayed her, replaying her fight with Shara over and over again. Sighing, she sat up again, pulling her clothes tightly around her as she tiptoed her way past the others, towards the edge of the camp, shaking her hair rapidly, watching the sticks and leaves fall to the ground. Laughing ruefully, she ran her fingers through her massed curls, picking out the remaining bits of debris, wishing her little sister were here to help-

Oola shook her head gently, tears running down her cheeks as she tried to push the memories away.

Looking up a few minutes later, she saw the sky was swiftly turning gray, the light of dawn muted by an unbroken roof of mottled clouds that rushed eastwards, heavy with the promise of storms.“More rain” she muttered, wiping her eyes and heading back to camp. A low growl of thunder echoed through the hills.

“Good morning!” Tohm called out, quietly adding more wood to the fire.

She sucked in the cold morning air and waved to him. “I’m going to scout ahead.”

Tohm stared at her, nonplussed. “Do you want some food?”

Her stomach growled, but her heart was too sick to eat. “No. Thank you.”

“Oola, I….” he paused, his face uncertain. “Be careful.”

“Are you ok, Tohm?” She asked, laughing.

“Yeah. I- uh. I-”

“What?”

“I’ll tell you later.” He said, turning away. “After you come back.”

“Okay.” She said, shrugging her shoulders. That was strange.

Turning, she studied the river. It was no longer just a simple task of walking along the riverbank. As they had traveled northwards, the hills had become more and more frequent, until they had joined together into a rolling cascade of grass-covered mounds, dotted with rocky outcroppings, the Silver river forced to dodge and wind between them. As the ground had risen, the river had hastened its course, often sending white water down through impassible stone canyons, forcing them to make long detours around the hills to find a more passable route to the other side.

“We’re close!” Armis had said, when they had been forced to leave the path for the first time. “My father had said that the path became hilly and difficult before the end.” He had said the same thing after the second detour, but by the fourth or fifth he just shook his head and kept walking.

Oola paused, and studied the hill, noticing a promising deer trail that ran up one side. Hiking up the path, she reached the top, only to find more hills beyond, stretching towards distant shadows. Somewhere out there, a village waited, the edge of the adventure.

“But I don’t want it to be over. Not yet.” She thought, as she scurried down the far side of the hill, focusing her eyes on the path.

Lightning rippled silently through the thick clouds.

“Still, it would be nice to see other people.” She thought, following the deer trail up the next hill. And then the soft sizzle of the rain swept towards her, wrapping her in its cold embrace. She slowed her pace in response, watching the path more carefully.

Just because we reach the village, doesn’t mean the adventure has to end.

The rain strengthened further, until she was well and truly soaked by the torrent. Spying a boulder ahead, she abandoned her slow pace, running up the hillside, bent low against the rain. At this time of year, this kind of rain was always- ow! – followed by – ow! – hail. Diving into the meager shelter of the stone, she hugged her legs close as bits of ice poured from the sky, turning the ground from green to white in nearly an instant, piling up against her toes.

As they usually did, the hailstorm ended just as quickly as it started, and Oola stood up, brushing the ice from her clothes as she studied the hills. The hail had driven off the mists, and she could see the dark shape of the river, winding through a line of white-and-green hillocks to the northwest. A herd of caribou had gathered at the river’s edge, drinking thirstily. Beyond the hillocks, dark mountains rose into the sky, the slopes dotted with trees.

She stood indecisively for a few moments before heading northwards down the hillside, stepping carefully around the patches of rapidly melting ice.

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Wednesday, April 26th, 2006 at 3:54 am.
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