still have the same problem we had two days ago except we'd have less djada.'
There must be a better way,' said Fern.
Ranegale had cupped his hands to his ears to hear him. 'A better way? And how do you think we're going to find it? Shall we try every pass until we find one that takes us all the way down?' Gazing into the abyss, he shook his head. 'We must try here, while we still have the strength.'
'How're we going to get the aquar down?' asked Krow.
Carnelian tried to trace a plausible descent, but the ledges seemed as substantial as scribbles.
Ravan was looking at Ranegale for an answer. As the man's hands dropped to his sides and he turned away, the youth's mouth sagged open with horror and disbelief.
Loskai stared. 'Ranegale, you can't mean that you want us to walk all the way home?'
Fern glanced at him. 'For once I agree with your brother. We've no choice.'
Ravan looked from face to face. 'You can't do it. I've reared Runner since she was a hatchling.'
The men were all staring blindly into the abyss.
'We should leave them here in case we have to return?' tried Ravan.
Cloud took his shoulder. That would be more cruel. Would you want them to slowly starve?'
'We could set them loose; let them return the way we came.'
Cloud shook his head. 'You saw how barren it is up there.'
Ravan and Krow were struggling not to cry.
'What about our dead?' Cloud asked Fern.
Carnelian looked to where the rain was melting the corpses into the ravine wall, then to the cave in whose depths Osidian lay a fallen statue.
Fern was ashen. 'We leave them here.'
Ravan broke down and Cloud embraced him with one arm, reaching out with the other to Krow.
'Cut their hearts out to take with us,' said Ranegale.
Fern stared blankly while Cloud grew angry. There'll be no need for that. Birds from the Earthsky will reach them here.'
Morosely, Carnelian knew he must stay behind with Osidian.
'What about the Standing Dead?' asked Loskai.
Fern's eyes came back into focus. He indicated Carnelian with his chin. 'I'll help this one carry the other.'
As Carnelian gazed startled at the Plainsman, Ranegale shrugged, scowling. 'If you must.'
Carnelian stood against the cave wall keeping out of their way. He was still reeling from Fern's offer. He had tried to help with unharnessing the aquar, but had quickly found he was only a hindrance. Grim-faced, the Plainsmen were soon working at tearing their saddle-chairs apart. The transverse poles they released from behind the chairs were being piled at the cave mouth. On to either end of each was wound a bale of djada rope the size of a man's head. To one side a parcel had been laid, carefully wrapped in oiled skins the length and girth of a boy's forearm. Beside it were some pouches that had clinked as they were put down.
Smiling crookedly, Cloud regarded the pile of saddle-chair wicker. 'If we'd known we could've had quite a blaze last night.'
Fern asked Carnelian to help him lash together several of the saddle-chair poles into a beam to which he added his father's spear with its iron head. As they worked, Carnelian thanked Fern, who merely gave a curt nod. When they were finished they laid the structure on the floor beside Osidian and Carnelian saw that it stretched longer than his body. They bound Osidian to it with leather bands, blankets and whatever else they could find among the debris of the saddle-chairs.
Each taking one end, Carnelian and Fern tried lifting him. At Fern's urging, they rotated the stretcher like a spit until Osidian hung from it facing the ground. The bindings creaked under his weight, but held. They turned him onto his side and laid the stretcher gently on the floor.
The aquar were standing naked near the back of the cave, blinking the mirrors of their eyes, their plumes rustling behind their heads.
They know,' broke Ravan's voice as everyone moved in among the creatures.
One of the youths began a wail that Fern cut short with a reprimand. He handed Carnelian a flint knife. 'You must do Blur.'
When Carnelian hesitated, Fern grabbed his hand and pressed the knife into it. Carnelian could see the tears in Fern's eyes as he made Blur kneel and showed him how she would allow him to bring her long head under his arm. 'You cut here.'
Carnelian watched Fern run his finger round the softly-scaled skin where the creature's jaw met her neck. He looked into Fern's face questioningly. His friend was fighting rage. 'We must do them all at once or else they'll panic'
Carnelian watched him walk away before turning to Blur. He saw his own reflection in her eyes. She was returning his gaze. He felt a bond with her. Like him she had a beating heart; she saw the same sky. She had yearnings, knew strength and weariness, pain and fear. He reached up to caress his hand down the warm column of her neck, crooning, stroking her plume fans closed.
'Ready yourselves.' The words echoed round the cave.
Carnelian reached up and drew Blur's scaly heron head to his side and slipped his arm over her warm skull. As he hooked her head close he could feel the hot humid breeze of her breath and the tickle of her blink against his skin. It made him ache that she should be so trusting while all the time he was sneaking the flint blade down to her throat.
'Now!' the word harsh and ragged.
Carnelian took too long. The cave was suddenly deafening with aquar squealing their distress. Blur's fans burst open in his face and he almost lost hold of her head.
He clung to her grinding his teeth as she tried to lift her head and clumsily, sawed her throat open. Then he had to ride the jerk and shudder of her head. Her warm blood licked his toes. As her plumes sank, he was able to see the raiders. They were crying, man and youth, as they knelt in blood and loved their dying aquar and he found he too was crying as he cradled Blur's now leaden head.
As they were getting ready to leave, Carnelian noticed Fern watching him from the mouth of the cave and turned away to wipe his eyes. When he looked back, Fern was gone. Carnelian needed to keep busy. He saw Ravan rubbing fat over the surface of a djada bale. When the whole ball was gleaming, the youth fed it onto the handle of Osidian's stretcher. Carnelian found a bale of his own. It was fleshy, reeking, the size and, he imagined, the weight of a severed head. Once he had greased it, he impaled it on the other end of the stretcher pole. Its smell clung to his hands.
Fern reappeared carrying two dark bundles. One of these he tucked away under the blanket binding Osidian's legs to the carrying pole. The other he held out to Carnelian.
'You must wear these.'
Fern pushed the black cloth into Carnelian's arms. It was sodden and gave off an odour Carnelian recognized. He repressed a desire to throw it away.
'Where did you get this?' he asked, though he already knew the answer.
They were my father's. I washed them in a puddle.'
Ravan looked up. Carnelian expected anger, but the youth dropped his gaze and went on with his work.
Carnelian looked down at the shrouds and then offered them to Fern. 'You're kind but there's really no need.'
Fern scowled and looked down at the ochre blanket Carnelian had around his waist. 'You believe you can get down the cliff dressed like that?'
Carnelian saw Fern was right. He put the bundle down, then, reluctantly, he removed the blanket, found two corners and began to fold it.
'You can't take it with you,' said Fern.
