Nohma flung me a withering glance, then turned and hurried after Kenda.
Sickened by my actions, heart thudding in my chest, I set off slowly after them.
I allowed them to put the distance of a terrace between us, not wanting to be anywhere near Kenda and jealous that Nohma had elected to accompany him.
My pace slowed as the day broke at my back. We were climbing towards a pass in the mountain range. I stared around at the desolate landscape, thinking that I could have been far underground and cool, prospecting for water. Ahead, Nohma and Kenda were tiny figures, side by side.
In time they disappeared from sight as they climbed between two jagged walls of rock. I began to feel uneasy, out there all alone. I realised, to my surprise, that I was still clutching the tailbone with which I had hit Kenda. I looked around me and hefted the club: if a giant crab should attack me now, I would be prepared. However, despite my brave resolve I felt far from confident.
I passed between the slabs of rock. My shadow sprawled ahead. The sun had risen, and I was thankful for the protection of my shell. We had only just made the range in time.
I came to the crest of the pass and stared ahead. I saw a steep upward slope which terminated in the escarpment, no more than two or three hours distant. Elation swelled in my chest. I looked around for Nohma and Kenda, but they were nowhere to be seen.
I felt a moment’s panic, and resisted the urge to call their names.
Then, to my relief, I heard Nohma called my name. “Par. Up here.”
I looked up. Nohma was standing on a boulder before the dark entrance of a cavern. She gave a brief wave and retreated into the shadows.
Wearily I climbed over the tumbled rocks, wondering at my reception. By the time I reached the opening, I had decided what I should do.
Kenda sat in the mouth of the cave, sullenly eating his rations. He didn’t look up as I climbed over the boulder and looked down at him. Nohma sat opposite him, her small teeth tearing at a strip of dried crab meat. Her gaze flicked my way, her face expressionless.
Then Kenda looked up, glancing from me to the bone I was still gripping. “Are you planning to hit me again, Par?”
I looked down at the bone, then tossed it aside.
I licked my dry lips and found my voice. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have hit you. That was wrong.”
He stared at me. I was aware of Nohma’s eyes on me, too. Kenda said, “You should have thought about that before you attacked. Contrition is all very well after the deed.” And so saying he stood, picked up his backpack, and retreated into the darkness of the cave.
I looked at Nohma. “I am sorry, but he shouldn’t have pushed me. You saw him.”
“He should not have pushed you, but you should not have struck him, Par. Your action was the worse. I hope you know that.”
I felt my stomach turn. Of course I knew that. “I’m sorry,” I said.
She stared at me. “No, you’re just sorry for yourself.”
She stood up and, without another glance at me, turned and walked into the shadows of the cave. I watched her go, gripped by impotent fury and self-pity.
I sat in the mouth of the cave and stared out across the slope towards the escarpment, protected from the burning sun by the bulk of the rock at my back. I ate a little dried cactus and drank a few mouthfuls of water, wondering if Nohma had elected to sleep with Kenda. I was too afraid to sneak into the darkness of the cave and find out for sure, and yet not knowing was an exquisite torture.
I retreated a little way into the cave as the temperature climbed, curled up on the hard ground and slept.
I awoke with a start as twilight descended, then memories of yesterday rushed in to fill my empty mind. I recalled attacking Kenda, and Nohma’s reaction. They were back there together, I realised, and felt sick to my stomach at the thought.
I moved to the entrance of the cave and stared out.
I saw movement to my left, the quick darting of a slight, black shape — there and gone in an instant. I stared at where I thought I had seen the movement, but saw nothing. I wondered if I were hallucinating.
I stared ahead again, towards the escarpment — and there it was again, on the periphery of my vision. It was not so much a shape, a figure, as a dark flicker of motion — like the quick flicker of a lizard as it darts into the safety of a crevice. As I stared, something else flicked on the edge of my vision, and then another. I turned my head again and again, but I was never fast enough to catch a full glimpse of whatever was playing games with me.
I was about to retreat into the cave and tell my companions, when I made a far greater discovery.
I wondered why I had not seen it before, then realised that only the strengthening starlight had revealed the object. The length of five terraces from where I sat, on the opposite embankment that rose to the escarpment in a scatter of scree and larger boulders, was a dark, rearing V-shaped object. It was clearly not natural, and I was gripped by excitement at the discovery.
I leapt to my feet and stumbled into the darkness of the cave. I came across the shadowy form of Nohma first, my heart bursting with joy at the fact that she was not curled with Kenda.
“Nohma!” I cried. “Come and see this — quickly!”
She rose and peered at me. “Par?”
“I’ve found something!” I said. “Come and see.”
Kenda emerged from the back of the cave, scratching his armpit. “What have you found, Par? Another giant slug?”
I ignored him, turned and led Nohma to the entrance of the cave. “Look!” I said, pointing.
She stared. “But what is it?”
I shook my head. “Whatever it is, it’s vast. Look, it reaches up halfway to the escarpment.”
“I… I’ve never seen anything so… so…”
She was lost for words, and I supplied, “So regular, so unnatural, so human-made.” I excited myself with the phrase.
“But what is it? Why would anyone make such a thing? And from what?”
“It can only be wooden, Nohma,” I said, and glanced at Kenda who had joined us. “What do you think?”
Scratching the area around his scabbed forehead now, as if to remind me of my moment of violence, he looked across the ravine. I could see that he was trying not to be impressed, despite himself.
“Well?” I prompted.
He shrugged. “A trick of the light,” he said. “How come we didn’t see it at sunrise?”
“A trick of the light?” I laughed. “Look at it! It’s there — you can’t deny that!”
Nohma said, “It’s no trick, Kenda. It’s certainly there.”
I turned quickly. I had seen a shape flicker at the extremity of my vision. “What?” Nohma asked.
“You didn’t see it? A… a quick shape, a black flicker.”
Kenda laughed. “You were too long under the sun yesterday, Par. You’re seeing things. There’s nothing there.”
I stared at him, then back at the rearing V-shaped thing across the ravine.
“There’s only one way to find out for certain,” I said. “Come, let’s set off and see for ourselves.”
I shouldered my backpack, and then lifted my shell and shrugged it onto my back, arranging the straps for comfort.
Kenda made no move. “Well?” I said.
He stared at me. “I’m not coming,” he said.
I was taken by the sudden, rash urge to hit out at him again — and I was glad I had discarded the bone yesterday. “Not coming?” I said in disbelief.
“I’m turning back. We’ve been out here long enough. It was a fool’s errand, from the start. We’ve almost run out of provisions, and I don’t think we’ll find any out here, do you?”