The Sentinels of Eden, Books 1-4

Chapter 86

Chapter 29

Just outside the cave entrance, the darkness welcomed me back. It was full of bruised eucalyptus and hunger and struggle. Not far away, a tawny frogmouth hooted in a rhythm like a reversing truck, as if it was giving me an ominous countdown.

‘That way,’ I pointed, still with my eyes shut. There was a subtle trace of a whisper. A placid presence, wondrously waiting. It was so faint that it might have just been wishful thinking, but I was learning to trust my instincts.

‘South, maybe south-east. Possibly Melbourne?’ Bane suggested. I could hear the tightness in his voice. There was nothing he could say that would keep me from searching for Tessa, and he knew it. He was doing pretty well to not argue even though I could see the conflict in every line of his body. I nodded and took his hand again because I knew the contact helped to ease the strain on him. It certainly helped me.

As soon as we crossed back over the river I started to run down the track until a tug on my wrist slowed me down. Irritated in a way I hadn’t been for years, I turned to him to argue but he got in first.

‘Relax, Lainie, we’ll get back faster if we keep to a steady pace, that’s all.’

‘Is that what your army training tells you?’ I was not really in the mood to be polite.

‘Yes, that and the fact that if you keep running in the dark I happen to know you’ll hurt your ankle and it will slow you down even more. Trust me?’ Fretful eyes begged for understanding.

I stomped away, choosing to ignore the way his anxiety had paused to allow for a brief look of profound sorrow. A sorrowful acknowledgement that I was losing something I had gained in Eden. Peace and joy could never really last in the outside world.

When I explained to Aunt Lily what I had discovered, she put her hand to her mouth as relief warred with concern that I would be heading straight for someone who meant me harm. Instead of arguing, she just squeezed Bane’s hand as if he was the one who needed comforting the most. Maybe she was right.

Dallmin was standing by the door with the bags that we hadn’t had a chance to unpack from our trip to Bright. His small bag was there as well.

‘Dallmin, please, I need you to stay here and help Aunt Lily. I can’t worry about you as well. I’ll get you home as soon as I can, as soon as we’ve found Tessa. It’s vitally important that I get to her as soon as I can, do you understand?’

As I tried to move past him to the door, he planted himself in the way. His arms were crossed.

‘I understand better than you think, Sentinel. Tessa and the baby are in a bad place. They are lost and they need help. I have always helped anyone who needed it and Tessa is growing a child. Do you think I could just go home and leave her? You think you understand us, but you don’t. I will not stop until she is home and … safe.’

Aunt Lily gasped, and Bane let out a long sigh. My eyes prickled as I came to the devastating realisation that I had probably just lost him. He had encountered evil, in one of its worst forms, and understood what it meant. There was no going back. Crushing grief surged. So did guilt. I had failed him, this centuries-old child. Cherished citizen of God’s Garden, exiled because I had failed at my post.

He turned and carried the bags to the car.

The lights on the dashboard continued to remind me that it was way past midnight. It felt as if we’d been in the car all day. Again. Over five hours to Bright yesterday, another five to return today, and now all the way to Melbourne, if that was where the pull continued to take us. It was still so ephemeral, coming and going like the tug of a yabbie on a line, so who knew where we would end up? Aunt Lily had better have done her oil change on time for once, because if we broke down we’d be stuffed. We’d borrowed her phone too. Bane had used it to call Tim and ask him to drive his car down from Brisbane, and he’d offered to come straight away. I hoped he had a very understanding boss.

Black outlines of endless roadside trees flew past like tangled shadows and I wished there was something more to look at out there, because Noah’s phone was resting in the console, charging, and not ringing. Not that it was likely to at this time of night. I hoped Tessa was sleeping. I tried to imagine her sleeping. In a comfy bed with a soft pillow and clean teeth.

My head was pounding from trying to concentrate on the feel of the baby, which was a small price to pay for reassurance that they were both still alive, but I was exhausted. I was unpractised at dealing with stress of any sort, and the day had been easily the worst I could ever remember, not that that was saying much, with my flimsy recollection. If only I could go to sleep and switch off for a while, but if Melbourne wasn’t the destination then I had to pay attention or else we could end up a very long way from where we needed to be.

How long would Bane be able to keep driving? He was exhausted too, and the closer we got to danger, the more strain it put on him. Neither Dallmin nor I could share the driving with him and it was going to get dangerous if he pushed it too much. Then I remembered that none of us had eaten either. We passed a sign for the next town.

‘Bane. We need to stop. We’ll continue in the morning,’ I mumbled. My headache was fierce and I could see his hand twitching to reach for me, but the dizziness he would suffer from healing me was not something we could risk while he was behind the wheel. He gave a curt nod.

Dallmin leant forward from the back seat. ‘We can’t stop. Tessa needs us quickly.’ He bit down on each word as if he thought that might convince us of how strongly he felt.

‘We can’t keep going, Dallmin. Bane has been driving for too long. If he gets too tired we might crash. Then we can’t help anyone.’

He frowned out the window at the flickering tree-shadows. ‘Cars move quickly.’

‘Yes, and if we hit something, it will be very much like your flying attempts were, except …’

‘There’s no Fruit,’ he finished, slumping back in his seat.

We stopped at a truck stop for some rubbery Chiko Rolls and then found a cheap motel where Dallmin retired to his room without even a ‘good night’. The last twenty-four hours had been intense for him. I hoped he was coping okay.

The minute I shut the door to our own room, I shucked off my shoes and socks, and with them went some of the feeling of sombre responsibility. Bane did the same and then pulled me over to the bed, sat me down, and placed his fingertips against my temples. Scorching heat was followed by the abrupt absence of pain. He swayed, so I pushed him over and tucked a pillow under his head. I would have given just about anything to be able to reciprocate his healing trick, but within seconds he was fast asleep anyway, which was unusual enough while I was still awake. I curled up against his shoulder and tried to relax. I was so, so tired and yet my head was swirling with horrendous thoughts—various obscene scenarios with Tessa bound and gagged like in the movies, fear and anger marring her delicate features. Glittering images of the sunlit Garden interrupted my hideous imaginings, as if my mind was attempting to hide the truth from itself until I could no longer tell the difference between thought and dream. I flew through the warm air, side by side with a giant wedge-tailed eagle. I tried to look where it looked, to see what it saw, until it tilted its head and gazed right at me. It swooped down suddenly, into a roiling black cloud that had crept up out of nowhere, and without thinking I plunged after it, trying to keep up. The cloud was full of lightning and it terrified me, but losing sight of the eagle frightened me even more. As the thunder shook my bones, I was encapsulated by violence and electricity, but it was too late to turn back. I had made my decision. I would follow where he led.

A feathered kiss on the corner of my eye woke me and I smiled dreamily for about three seconds before reality came crashing back and my eyes snapped open. It was still dark outside and yet Bane had already had a shower and was buttoning up his shirt. His bag was zipped up and sitting by the door. He made us each a coffee to go while I brushed my teeth and changed into fresh clothes. Dallmin was already waiting by the car. He returned my brief hug but still didn’t utter a sound.

Such thick fog eddied around my boot laces and shirt cuffs that I felt as if I was swimming to the middle of the empty street. Searching for the baby was easier when there was a bit of space around me. The mist tasted sweet on my tongue as I inhaled the feel of living things, opening all my senses so I could search the threads. Closing my eyes, I felt for the wisp of life I had learnt to recognise. There. Softly waiting. Contentedly sleeping. So small, so new. I turned towards it and pointed. Still to the south-east, and still so far away. Bane gave a grim nod and we got into the car.

The outer suburbs of Melbourne were dreary in the autumn rain. Despite the fact that it was early on a Saturday morning, we still managed to get caught in traffic. I couldn’t remember ever seeing so many cars at once. Hardly any of them were utes and so it seemed ridiculous that they weren’t all full of passengers since they all seemed to be going the same way. Dallmin was overwhelmed by it all. There had been one heart-thumping incident driving past Essendon Airport when he had nearly thrown himself out of the window of the car, craning his neck to watch a low flying plane, but luckily I had managed to clamber into the back seat just in time to grab his shirt and pull him back in before he fell. He gave the driver in the next lane a heck of a fright. After that, Bane engaged the child locks on the windows so all Dallmin could do was plaster his face to the glass and stare in stunned silence at all the buildings, billboards, houses and cars. It was a whole new world in the city, outside his hundreds of years of experience, and it rendered him speechless.

Eventually I began to feel subtle changes in the direction of the pull whenever we went around a bend, although it didn’t really feel much stronger. The traffic was still frustratingly sluggish and Bane changed lanes again as we passed a police station and then yet another McDonalds.

‘Turn left soon,’ I prompted, breaking out of my Quarter Pounder-filled thought bubble, and then grabbed the door handle as he virtually flung us off the highway. The streets were a maze of suburban houses all nestled together like chilly budgies. So many people to meet, which would have sounded marvellous to me a few days ago. Now it just meant there was so much more potential for danger. People were untrustworthy and I wanted to hide from them all. ‘Straight ahead,’ I directed as we approached a roundabout. In the back seat Dallmin sat forward to peer over my shoulder. There were dozens of questions in his eyes, but he held them in.

Two blocks later, a railway line blocked our path. I could see the backs of the houses beyond.

‘That one there, with the agapanthus growing out of the gutter.’

‘What’s that metal thing covered in grass?’ Dallmin asked.

‘It used to be a washing line,’ I explained. ‘But it looks like someone tried to use it as a swing.’

‘Ah. Now I understand why Lily did not want me to do that.’

I nodded in respect of our shared experience.

‘I’ll try to find a way around,’ Bane muttered. I knew he wasn’t angry at me, but he had descended into full protection mode and his tone of voice reflected his dangerous mood.

It was then, just as he began to reverse, that Noah’s phone rang.