Shamar

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Annie felt burdened by a memory that wasn’t hers. It belonged to someone she’d never even met. The man responsible for her mother’s murder, Mr Rosa, had died in jail. She remembered the day her partner Cherub, Harry, had raced up from the cottage to switch on the news report so she and Lucas could hear it for themselves. While Harry’s face had been cast in a sturdy mask of passive contentment, his heart had been full of sorrow and longing. Was there anyone left who could see through that mask? No. Wait. Harry was gone now too. If only he’d listened that day when she’d tried to convince him to move to the Garden. Instead, he’d insisted on remaining in the place where rubies and diamonds were valued more than lives. A place where those whispers would continue to haunt her, even without Mr Rosa. Chills chased the memory of that voice around her mind and down her spine. It hunted for a clue. Hunted for her. Relentless.

I have a story worth investigating. A frightened jeweller to whisper to. And a town to search.

There had to be a reason the standing stones had revealed someone else’s secret, and now she had to choose whether to allow Eden’s perfection to soothe away her sense of urgency, or to follow the thread of her flawed recollections. After spending the night reliving her past she was exhausted, yet too afraid to sleep. Too afraid of her dreams, in case they forced her to remember even more. Why couldn’t her story just have ended there? Why couldn’t she have stayed locked away in those first few years after Lucas decided to stay in Nalong? That town was not timeless like Eden. Events kept ticking along, counting down from one disaster to the next.

Beside her, a silver tree dropped a ripe piece of Fruit that rolled gently to a stop within arm’s reach. Its ambrosial fragrance made her mouth water and her fingertips twitch. One bite of the Living Fruit would dull her memories and cure both her tiredness and anxiety. Sadly, there were ramifications for her. She wasn’t ready to unravel all the tangled emotions that were wrapped around her past. Enough shame still haunted her that eating from the Tree of Life would infect it with an illness it couldn’t heal. Besides, she had work to do and couldn’t afford to get lulled by the Garden’s autumn somnolence. Nor could she continue to hide from her own memories. She turned from the Fruit with a sigh.

There was only one person in Eden who might understand, and she finally found him with a group of five others, grinding various coloured rocks to make paint. Nayn came over as soon as he noticed her waiting under a nearby tree. His unruly white curls were streaked with bright orange where he’d pushed it out of his face with dusty fingers.

You are not happy, he signed as he approached. As if she didn’t know.

Just tired. I’ve been up all night. Remembering.

He gave a solemn nod. The standing stones can hold many memories. They act like the planet’s own consciousness. Stones, gems, some metals. The bones of the Earth have ways of keeping hold of memories, and what is consciousness if not memory with emotion?

Annie grabbed hold of Nayn’s wrist, inspecting the orange stains on his hand. How much of this ochre have you been breathing in?

Enough to give me heightened powers of deduction. You are not just tired. Dallmin has hurt your heart, and you are angry, he persisted. There was no sign for angry, but he used his facial expressions to convey what he meant. If she hadn’t been feeling so miserable it would have been comical.

He is gone now, so how can I be angry at him?

As easily as breathing. You feel what you feel. That is the way we are built, even here.

Pressing her lips together, she looked across to the people mixing paint ingredients. They were laughing at Bungee, who’d tipped a wooden bowl of powdered lapis lazuli over himself and was now sneezing out blue dust. Their carefree laughter at the dog’s antics only made her feel jealous. Her anger at herself and at Dallmin had no place in Eden, no matter what Nayn said.

I should have known better, she signed. Have I lost all sense of reason? Have my memories of Nalong slipped so far away that I’ve lost touch completely? Lainie was so shocked when she discovered he had left, so why wasn’t I? I’ve basically killed him, Nayn. By letting him leave the Garden I’ve doomed him to an early death. What will become of him? And what does that make me?

Nayn wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze. Then he picked a bunch of tiny yellow flowers and started to weave them together with some long grass strands. Dallmin is not dead, Annie. He is alive and burdened by knowledge he should never have had to face. It is important you remember this. He still loves you. What that makes you … is a beloved one.

And what use is it to be beloved if I cannot love back? He can never return here.

When Nayn frowned at her she realised how bitter her words were.

Perhaps you should get some rest, he suggested. And we can talk later.

Why bother talking more about this? The outcome won’t change whether I’m rested or not. Dallmin is lost. No one ever returns once they have been outside.

Finishing the tiny floral crown, he placed it on her head. Except us.

Yeah. Except Cherubim.

And one other … that I know of.

Annie gaped at him. Really? Who?

He laughed and refused to answer, despite all her cues telling him how badly she needed to know. Instead, he jumped up and trotted away to join the paint-makers. Unless she wanted to make a scene in front of the innocent humans, she would have to wait for him to return.