along it, then scale the slope of its crest to reach the hill of its back. Carnelian did not like the childish shrieks of excitement nor the swagger of the hunters. Osidian did not seem to be among them.
Carnelian slowed to a walk as he overtook the women. As the procession drew nearer he grimaced, recognizing one of the children sitting astride the monster's back as Poppy. Ginkga, the Elder in charge, gave him a glare, warning him not to try to escape. The youths were boasting of the hunt, running their hands up the great sweep of the bull's horns, pointing out the hawser tendons beneath his smooth young hide, while all the time, the children frolicked, or drank in the glory of the hunt, wide-eyed.
Ravan called a halt and strutted out accompanied by Krow, who was beaming. At the head of the women, Ginkga confronted the youths.
'Where've you lot been? Do you know your hearths are half mad with worry?'
Smiles were fading all around her. Krow held on to his, but looked uneasy.
Ginkga pointed at the earther. 'What do you expect us to do with that monstrosity?'
Ravan frowned as if he was finding himself unexpectedly among strangers. He peered past the women to where a smaller earther lay half dismembered under the branches of the Bloodwood Tree. 'Get rid of that scrawny carcass. It's clear ours has far more and better meat.'
Ginkga scowled. She walked past Ravan and several of the women followed her. She pointed at the sled of roughly hewn wood upon which the bull lay.
'Where did that come from?'
'We made it,' said Ravan.
The Elder raised an eyebrow. 'It's made of wood.'
Ravan frowned more deeply. 'So, we cut down two or three acacias. There's plenty more where they came from.'
His comment produced a catching of breath among the women. Ginkga addressed her words to the youths standing behind Ravan. 'Are any of you here unaware that every tree is holy to the Mother?'
Many of the hunters blushed; looked away; let their eyes fall.
The Elder approached the saurian, nodding as she appraised him. 'I can't deny that he's magnificent.'
The youths lifted their heads desperate for her approval.
'But you've cut him down in the full flowering of his strength. He should be out there fathering more of his kind. Didn't that occur to any of you? Did you also forget his herd will need him to defend them against raveners?'
The hunters withered under her disapproval.
'We've brought meat for the Tribe,' said Krow, aggrieved.
'Meat?' Ginkga demanded. 'Can't you see that even if we were ready for him, he's got more on him than we could possibly process before he begins to rot? Not to mention that we're expecting Kyte's hunt in tomorrow.' 'So some'll be wasted.'
Ginkga regarded Ravan as if he were speaking a foreign tongue. 'All flesh is a gift from the Mother.'
Ravan gave her a sneer as he pointed at the young bull. 'We weren't given that. We took it,' he said, snatching a handful of air.
People gaped in shock. Fern strode forward, his skin and hair stiff with blood.
'Have you lost every last bit of sense you had? How can you say such things?'
Ravan's smile chilled Carnelian. The Master has taught me to be a man.'
Ignoring Ginkga's glare, Ravan turned on his heel and, accompanied reluctantly by Krow, strode to his aquar.
'You come back here,' she bellowed, but Ravan was deaf to her as he unhitched his aquar from the sled.
'Child, I command you to return with me to the Ancestor House.'
Ravan vaulted into his saddle-chair, made his aquar rise and sent it striding away towards the Horngate. The other youths looked, some apologetic, some angry, but they too were unhitching their aquar. They ignored Ginkga, who was in their midst pulling at them, berating them. Carnelian moved forward with Fern, but neither was sure what to do.
Raising a choking cloud of red dust, the hunters flew after Ravan. The women pulled their ubas over their noses and mouths, all the time staring at the Elder. She was coughing, squinting at the veiled shapes of the riders as they rode out onto the plain. A movement above her drew her eye. Poppy and a boy were still astride the bull.
'Have you no respect? Get down from there!'
The children slithered to the ground and fled with the others back to the racks.
Ginkga turned on Carnelian. 'Are you satisfied, Master?' Then she rounded on the women.
'Well? Don't you think we'd better get on with it or shall we just stand here all day watching the poor bastard rot?'
News of Ravan's defiance spread quickly through the Koppie. Carnelian saw how keenly Akaisha and Fern felt the hearth's shame. At first rumours abounded of the punishment that would certainly be meted out upon the errant youths, but as time passed it became clear the Elders were not going to act. People looked at their old people and wondered at their powerlessness.
Ravan did not return, but the youths who returned periodically with their kills upon other sleds confirmed he was hunting with the Master.
One time, Krow came with others boasting of a brawl in which they had triumphed over some Bluedancing. Around the hearths it was difficult not to greet this news with approval. For as long as anyone could remember, the Bluedancing had been provoking the Ochre. It was high time those bullies were shown there were men prepared to stand up to them. Whin was clearly unimpressed by the assurances that the Master had remained concealed throughout the brawl. Carnelian and Akaisha exchanged glances, both wondering if Osidian was sending them a warning.
The increasing glamour of hunting with the Master made more and more of the Tribe's young men desert their hunts for his. Forced to defend them, their kin declared that all they were doing was risking their lives daily beyond the safety of the ditches for the good of the Tribe, for its pride. Others were not so forgiving. They were resentful so many of the young men should refuse to fetch water or to work in the ditches, but they did not feel they could protest too much in case people should believe they spoke out of envy at the evident success of the Master's hunt. These malcontents carried their anger to the Elders, who once more showed themselves unwilling or unable to act.
There were other concerns. The mother trees declared the beginning of the Withering by producing cones while, beneath a high pearlescent sky, the sun was burning the world to dust.
One day, struggling against smothering heat, Carnelian became aware that every fern frond he could see was brown. Gazing out past the Newditch, he saw the world beyond was sepia to the horizon.
'How can anyone possibly survive out there in that shadeless world?' he rasped through his parched throat.
Fern had a sombre look. The lagoons will soon dry up and then the herds will begin their migration to the mountains. We must follow them or else die.'
Carnelian smiled. 'At least we'll be free of this,' he said, lifting up his brown, blood-stained arms. He watched Fern return to his work miserable, frowning, and only then remembered it would also be time to send children to Osrakum.
'Smoke,' Carnelian cried, pointing at a mass of it rising well above the crowns of the magnolias, bending its back as it leaned towards the west.
Not hearing other cries joining to his own, he turned and saw that only a few people had even bothered to lift their heads. He pulled at Fern.
'Fire.'
His friend seemed infuriatingly unconcerned. There's fire spreading within the Newditch,' said Carnelian.
Fern gave a nod. 'We must burn the ferngardens now while they still have the memory of green life in them.'
Carnelian watched the edge of the pall fraying in the breeze and understood. Soon the ferngardens would
