Silent Skies

6. Two

Solma closes her eyes and rubs her temples. Her head aches. This is getting them nowhere. Bell’s voice has risen to such a pitch, the children wince every time she speaks. Mamba’s tried reason, but then he got cross and stalked off, mushrooms bursting from his footprints. Cobra followed to try and talk him down. Now, Roseann and Bell bicker furiously and won’t stop when Olive yells expletives. Ana says nothing. Solma watches as the Whisperer girl rolls her hazel eyes and gets to her feet. Silver filaments creep across the grass under her toes. She pulls a face, hitches her bow onto her shoulder and trudges towards the horses.

Perhaps she’s got the right idea. Solma’s not sure she can cope with this nonsense either.

“And what,” Bell screeches, “are we s’posed to do even if we somehow sneak into the village? Reckon we can recruit a bunch of allies without alerting Maxen and his cronies? We got no idea what’s been going on in that village. I ain’t risking my niece and nephew—”

“They’re already at risk!” Roseann growls. “You’re being an i***t, Bella—”

“Don’t you call me an i***t! You—”

Solma winces as Olive marches between them, swearing. Her mother cuffs her around the head and the two fall to arguing. Bell shoves her hands on her hips.

“I am still talking!”

Yeah, ok. Solma’s done. Sighing, she gets to her feet. The Whisperer boys look at her, pleadingly. Solma mouths, “go play.” No sense in them suffering, either. Relief written all over their faces, the boys scurry behind a tent.

Solma wanders after Ana and finds the girl standing with the horses. Solma’s always liked Ana’s company. The girl’s gentle and quiet, but Solma knows she’s capable of real bravery. Whisperers name themselves after snakes they rescue from frightened villagers, as their strange connection with the Earth makes them resistant to snake bites. Solma had been impressed by Mamba’s story of being bitten by an extremely poisonous snake, and she’s since learned that the Inland Taipain—the snake little Tai got her name from—is even more deadly. But nothing was more shocking than Ana’s story. Ana is short for Anaconda. Solma still has no idea how this quiet, diminutive teenager once wrestled the largest snake in Alphor into submission. She’s a bit scared of finding out.

Burdock pricks his ears as soon as he sees Solma. She smiles and strokes his velvety nose. He nibbles gently at her fingers, nudges her for treats. She chuckles and Ana glances over.

“You’re still his favourite,” she says. Solma shrugs.

“Well, after what he did last year,” she says, “he’s my favourite, too.”

Burdock lowers his head so Solma can scratch behind his ears. Solma’s spent over a year with these ponies now and, all through this winter, she’s paid more attention. Poppy’s an anxious thing, all twitches and nerves. Solma doesn’t blame her. The world’s a harsh place. But Burdock’s different. He’s got this quiet strength to him, as if he knows everyone around him is terrified and so he’ll stay calm and show them the way. Like he did last year. Solma closes her eyes against the memory of that roaring blaze. Trees wreathed in flame, smoke choking the air, the cries of her friends within the inferno. And Burdock, tethered to that cart, willing Solma to drive him through the flames so they could rescue those trapped inside.

Solma glances down at his left hind leg, where a patch of his hair has never grown back. The flesh there is mottled. She hadn’t realized he’d been burned until well after they’d put out the fire and left Skyheart village. He’d never even flinched. Brave thing.

She lays her forehead between his eyes. “Could do with your courage again, buddy,” she says. “Any ideas?”

Burdock huffs a breath but offers no further insight. Ana chuckles and hands Solma a fistful of oats. Solma holds them out for Burdock to gobble.

“This feels so hopeless,” Solma says. Putting it into words makes the ache behind her eyes deepen. What the hell can they achieve against a tyrant determined to take every precious thing for himself?

Ana sighs. “I know,” she says. “And everyone’s tired. We should—”

She stops suddenly, staring past Solma as one of the tents is drawn open. Solma turns to see a diminutive figure step into the sun. Taipan stretches and stares around camp. Her sun-blaze eyes, orange as the dawn, come to rest on Solma, Ana and the horses. Solma sees those dark rings standing out around the girl’s irises and flinches. All the Whisperers have those rings since connecting to the mycelia, but Taipan’s are the most prominent. The little Whisperer girl’s blazing gaze was always unnerving, but with this new power, Solma finds she can no longer hold the girl’s eyes.

Or maybe it’s nothing to do with that. Maybe it’s the memory of her brother being dragged away. Maybe it’s knowing Taipan has missed Warren as much as she has.

Help them, Sol! You got to help them!

Solma shudders, pushing that memory aside as Taipan trudges over.

“Hey, Sol,” she says, her voice soft and distant. “Hey, Ana.”

“Hello, little one,” Ana says. “You alright, today?”

Taipan stares at her for a very long time. Ana squirms under the girl’s gaze. “Yeah,” Taipan says. “Just been listening.”

Ana’s eyes sparkle with concern and Solma looks away. She shares Ana’s worry. Sometimes, it feels like Taipan’s already slipping away from them, her mind falling into that ever-muttering network of silver threads beneath the soil. Just like the Whisperer in Mamba’s story.

Solma can’t bear the idea of that. What would she tell Warren?

Taipan glances over her shoulder. “Well?” she says. “Don’t you want to hear my idea?”

She wanders in the direction of the raised voices, stumbling over the hem of her emerald robe.

Solma and Ana exchange glances.

“Right,” Ana says. “Let’s hear what she has to say.”

They head after Taipan. Ana taps Solma’s arm as they follow and points down. When Solma looks, she sees that Taipan’s footfalls leave a trail of red and white mushrooms, shining mold and many-coloured lichens in their wake. Ana’s brow creases with worry.

Roseann and Bell’s argument falls silent as they notice Tai. Something about Taipan and the way she’s changed makes everyone behave differently. There’s a reverence in the way they talk to her now. Whether Taipan notices, Solma’s got no idea. The girl always seems to have half her mind in the earth nowadays.

Taipan sits cross-legged by the remains of the fire. She runs her hands over the stubble on her scalp and closes her eyes. The Whisperers helped each other shave their heads a few days ago and Solma’s beginning to realize that it’s more to do with hygiene than aesthetics. Her own hair hangs in a dark, greasy braid over her shoulder and she fingers it nervously. Bell, Roseann and Olive have frozen, watching Taipan as if they’re watching a real snake, not sure if it’ll strike or slither away.

Solma sits beside the young Whisperer. She smiles at the girl and Taipan blinks distantly back. Solma looks away quickly. Ana kneels on Solma’s other side and, taking their cue, the others sit as well.

Taipan looks at Bell. “May I have some breakfast, please?”

Bell hurries to oblige, slopping soup into a wooden bowl. When she hands it to Taipan, she does so gingerly, and snatches her hands away as soon as the girl has taken it. But no mushrooms sprout from the bowl, as had happened with Krait. Though, Solma notices, the grass around her now puckers with little yellow fungi. No one speaks, and Solma can’t help the sense of foreboding that kindles in her gut. She wonders what her brother would think if he was here.

The thought sparks the old guilt that Solma thought she’d managed to do away with last autumn. The ache that reminds her of the mountain of failures she’s racked up.

There’s a shuffle from behind and the three Whisperer boys traipse over. Krait lower lip trembles. King looks thunderous. He sees Taipan and his frown deepens.

“We don’t want to argue more, Tai!” he protests. “We just want to—”

“We won’t argue this time,” Taipan says, patting the ground beside her. “C’mere.”

King rolls his eyes but does as he’s told.

Bell twists the hem of her dress between her hands. “Should we call—”

“No,” Taipan says with a smile. “I called them. They’re on their way.”

Ok, it’s unsettling how she does that. The Whisperers talk through the mycelia now. It means they can talk without opening their mouths. Like some mind power Solma thinks shouldn’t be possible. The others are a bit erratic with it, but Taipan’s got this new ability down to an art.

Cobra and Mamba appear from the woodland behind the camp. Mamba’s still frowning, but Cobra holds his hand, drawing him towards the fire. He sighs as he sees Taipan.

“Ok,” he says, crouching beside Cobra. “What’re you thinking, Tai?”

Taipan licks her spoon clean and hands the bowl to Bell. “That was yummy,” she says and, for a second, she’s the sweet girl Solma met two years ago. Her brother’s best friend.

Then she presses her hand to the ground, her eyelids flutter, and that girl is gone.

“We can’t rescue Warren with just us,” she says. Mamba sighs.

“We know, Tai, that’s why—”

Taipan gazes at him and he falls silent.

“Maxen’s got an army,” Taipan says. Fear stabs in Solma’s throat.

“An army?” she demands. “How? When?”

Taipan covers Solma’s hand with her own. “It’s complicated,” she says. “But he has allies. People from across Alphor are heading to Sand’s End. Maxen’s promising them trade if they defer to him. Lots of the Stewards have sent soldiers to support him. It’s a small army, but it’s more than we’ve got.”

Solma stares. It seems impossible, but she knows better. Taipan has heard this through the network of the Earth. The mycelia telling her the way Alphor’s people move, hinting at the shift in politics.

“If Maxen has an army,” Taipan says, “then we need an army, too.”

Mamba throws up his hands. “And where the hell are we s’posed to get—” his eyes widen. “Oh, Earth, this is a terrible idea.”

Solma frowns. Cobra’s mouth twitches and Ana looks stricken. The boys squirm. Solma huffs a sigh and sees her frustration reflected in Olive, who folds her arms.

“Ok,” Olive grumbles, “most of us can’t do that weird mind thing you do. Care to share?”

Mamba covers his eyes. “It’s so obvious.” he says. “It would answer everything, but it’s … really dangerous.”

“What is?” Solma and Olive demand at the same time.

“Maxen has an army of villagers,” Taipain says. “So, we need an army … of Whisperers. And there’s one place to get it.”

Mamba nods. “The Whisperers have a camp in the north,” he says. His voice is hesitant, troubled. “It moves about every so often for protection, but it’s where our Council lives, where decisions are made and where Whisperers go when they’re sick, injured or need to train.”

Solma blinks. “How come we never heard of this?” she asks. Mamba shrugs.

“We don’t spread the knowledge around,” he says. “You’ve seen how villages treat us. Our way of life is secret to protect it. Only Whisperers know about the camp and the Council.”

Solma gives him a withering stare. “Right,” she says. “And you never bothered to mention it during eighteen months of travelling together?”

Mamba looks sheepish, but Cobra touches Solma’s hand. “Don’t take it personally, Sol,” she says gently. “We haven’t …” she pauses, her face pained. “We haven’t been back there in ages. It’s complicated.”

Solma’s about to argue, but Taipan wriggles impatiently. She fixes Mamba with those big, distant eyes. “We need more than an army,” she says. Mamba starts to shake his head.

“Tai, you know our rules. If we go back now, they’ll punish us—”

“What for?” Olive demands. Cobra gestures around the circle.

“This,” she says, indicating the fact that where they sit is now resplendent with more kinds of mushroom than Solma’s ever seen. “This is against Whisperer law,” Cobra continues. “If we go back, they’ll know straight away. They’ll—”

“We need one Whisperer in particular,” Taipan interrupts. Everyone looks at her. “We’re strong now. Stronger than all the others. But we gotta learn how to control this, or we don’t stand a chance. We need training.”

Solma frowns, puzzled. She catches Olive’s eye and sees the other girl is just as perplexed. Krait starts to cry. Mamba shakes his head.

“No, Tai,” he says. “No, no. It’s too dangerous, he’s—”

“He’s exactly who we need,” Taipan insists. “He’s been connected to the mycelia longer than anyone. He knows how to use it. He can teach us.”

“He can’t, Tai!” Mamba insists. “You know the stories. You know how he lost himself—”

“He didn’t,” Tai insists, her face darkening. “He didn’t lose himself. They’re not telling the truth, Mamba. Those stories they used to scare us. They’re lies. He’s strong. He’s got power, but they’re stopping him from using it. We need him.”

Mamba and Cobra stare at each other. Solma feels Ana stiffen beside her. She narrows her eyes, searching Bell’s and Olive’s faces, but they look nonplussed.

“Who?” she asks. “Who’re you talking about?”

Cobra’s cheeks flush with worry. “She’s talking about someone dangerous. Someone the Whisperers locked away a long time ago,” she says. “She’s talking about Python.”