Book II - Exodus (Chapter 12)

It seemed as if all of Erich’s fears regarding Essara’s reaction to his tale were unfounded. She accepted his story as the truth, and did not fear him for it as he had thought she might. Indeed, it seemed the opposite. She admired him for his strength when it came to dealing with the power waiting within him. For he had not used it carelessly, and did not enjoy the killing when its use became necessary. In her eyes he was no monster, and she conveyed this very well with her warm hand on his. He was a man given a weapon, and the responsibility to use it to serve the greater good, despite whatever moral grounds he might ignore in the process. It was war now, and the enemy no longer fought fair. Erich was to be the peacebringer. She understood him completely, and he thanked the gods endlessly for this knowledge. It meant that he was not mad, and that for the most part his decisions had been right. It also meant that he would have a companion for the rest of his journey, a friend.

Now, however, as the night came and the two travellers made camp, Erich’s mind burned with the problem of the Wall. If what Essara had told him still held true, there was no way through. The machines would be there, waiting, and the two of them would be killed. The original Darks from four generations back would have learned very quickly that small groups could not make it past the machines, and that they would need a very large group to even sustain a chance. How much they must have hated Mer’ka, to throw their lives in the air for even the smallest chance to reach Meil. He shook his head, slowly, trying to imagine it. He could not. But there was one thing he could, and he knew that if he were wrong and the machines still watched, the two of them would be torn apart by the spit of the metal animals before they had a chance to get near any of the entrances of the Wall.

He mentioned his theory to Essara, and she thought for a long while, her lips pursed prettily in the failing daylight. Finally she spoke.

“It is not impossible, and you may be right. Things age, and like all things, metal eventually breaks down, growing red and becoming brittle. And yet the Wall is made of metal, and it has been here longer than memory, and it has not done this. The machines are old, and it is possible they are no longer running, but it is equally possible that they have been replaced by something much more efficient. A weapon of the same magnitude as the cubes the Dark men with black ovals over their eyeballs carried. There are equal chances we’ll be opened up by the spit of a machine, vanished by the power of a killing cube, or that we’ll enter without incident. But, as you see, we are twice as likely to be killed as not. As for me, those odds aren’t the best.”

Erich sat down. She was right. The odds weren’t with them, and she hadn’t even bothered telling him that no new Darks had passed through the entrances in the last seventy years. But my mother…his mother would not be able to help him now. Had she told him some secret, told him how she’d made it through, he wouldn’t be so fearful right now. And perhaps she might have, if Krutt hadn’t…stop it, Erich. The man is dead. If it weren’t for Krutt you wouldn’t be here trying to stop the mass killing of your people. It was true. There was no point in trying to direct anger at the past, he was on his own now. He glanced at Essara and gratefully amended that thought. He was not alone now, he had her with him, and the knowledge gave him more strength than he was aware of.

“You must understand what I don’t want to happen, Essara,” he said to her. “I don’t want to drive myself to the Wall and then find there is nothing more I can do, and that I have run myself into a dead end. If I am stopped, then I am useless. The men with the cubes will have their way with the land of Meil, and I will be too far away and without any means of transportation to be of any help to anyone. If this world is destroyed and I’m not able to visit any other, I would rather be dead anyway. Do you understand?”

She nodded, and picked a small handful of huskberries from her pockets.

“And I agree,” she said, chewing. “There is most likely no other way, and if it is death we go to by the entrance, then it is death we have chosen. But if the way is not blocked…it will make all the difference. Unless of course, we come to our deaths in Mer’ka just as quickly.” She smiled, meaning the last line as a joke, but Erich paled.

“We’ll take one obstacle at a time, if that’s not a problem for you.”

She gave a slight laugh, and stood up suddenly.

“It’s all one obstacle, Erich. It just has many faces.” And she streaked away into the night, giggling. Erich sat on his haunches, mouth hanging open. She’s mad. Absolutely mad.

“Where are you going?!” he shouted after her, but got no answer. He couldn’t see her in the dark, and then he sighed. She’d be back. Probably with something else that would surprise him. He would do his best, he resigned, not to act surprised when the time came.

His best was not good enough, he soon learned. For the girl brought back three dead branches, and laid them on the ground in front of Erich.

“Branches? Where did you get those?”

“Saw a dead tree that had fallen over just north of here as we walked.”

Erich had seen no such tree, but he would not admit it.

“And now you’re going to make fire, I suppose.”

She winked at him in the starlight and he grinned in spite of himself.

“It does feel as if it will be rather cold tonight, Erich.” And she bent the work of it. What an odd girl. Where did she learn to make fire without flint and steel? I thought only traders and the like knew the skill.

He watched her gather a small pile of dead grass (plentiful enough in this place; the ground was either flat, dry soil or patches of the sharp blades of dead grass – Erich supposed that the closer they got to the Wall, the evidence of any life would be much harder to find) and place one of the large cracked branches over it. She took a smaller branch then and broke its end so that it was no longer pointed. Then, taking the smaller stick in her hand she rubbed it up and down the groove created by the crack in the larger branch. She worked steadily for several minutes, and when she began to breathe heavier he started smelling the hot charring stink of burning wood.

Then a spark, so tiny and yet so bright in the cool evening dark, flipped upwards and landed in the small nest of dead grasses. Essara quickly dropped her stick and fell towards the spark, breathing short gasps that would make it brighten for a moment and then slacken, and she worked the spark with her careful breaths for what seemed several moments, and then it exploded, igniting the grass and sending up a plume of thick dark smoke that signaled her success. She sat back, watching the small fire she currently contained in the nest, and then went about adding fuel to it. Two branches she placed over its top, and they leaned against one another to keep themselves upright and over the flames. To this frame she added many smaller wooden pieces, whose purpose would be to strengthen and heat the fire so that it would eventually eat its way up, to take the frame apart.

When she had finished, she turned to Erich, who was looking at her with a strange mix of admiration and disbelief.

“What?” Her voice was playful, and still demanding.

“I…I’ve never seen anyone do that before. And I had always thought that if I did, it would be…it wouldn’t be a girl of your age.”

“Good thing you have me along, then.” He nodded, speechless.

And she settled down for the night, building up a small dirt hill to lay her head on, and laying away from the fire so that her back would be warmed. Erich wanted for an insane moment to curl up next to her, and wrap his arms around her. Why not? She wouldn’t object.

But he sat by himself on the other side of the fire, and kept watch over her. He felt incredibly close to her, and there was a bond growing between them that would be unbearably hard to deal with if it were snapped. The horsa had been hard, because even though it had been a beast, it had served him well and was, on a deeper level, his friend. His companion. Already he was attached to the girl, and had feelings for her. He could not lose her as he had lost the horsa. Still, he knew that he might, and that if the bond between them was too strong that he might break. So perhaps it was best to keep himself away from her, even if only a little bit.

His thoughts turned to the Wall, and to the machines with their spitting mouths. He found fear in his heart, real fear, but it wasn’t for himself. If he ended up killing Essara, he would find it impossible to forgive himself for his stupidity. She did not deserve to die for his mistakes.

Gods damn the worries, he thought, wishing silently that he could sleep as she did, a look of peace on his face and a world of dreaming to explore.

He thought about Essara’s fire and he smiled. It was a fine fire, and she was a fine companion. ‘Good thing you have me along,’ she had said, and he agreed.

He would not know until the next afternoon, however, just how good a thing it was.