Upyer own, say Becca.
Crits aint stirrin, say Rona. Birds shush. Even carders restin.
Aban offer his jercan but Rona shake her head an push it back.
So Nathin Aban scout off ahead whiles Rona Becca Malk Efia rest in sharp an furzy shade. Soon Nathin Aban come back.
Got a place, say Nathin. Up the hill an not far off. No blokes about.
One bloke, say Aban. But he wont say nuthin.
Up at the ruin off the Thirsty we all look up. The corse hang from the gibber in a halo of flies. Eyes et by crows, face black like a bad fruit. Efia look at the square of bark danglin from the dead foot. She can read tho no one else can.
They hang him, she say, for startin a bush fire.
Way to go, say Nathin.
Stinks an all, say Rona. Leave him to his thinks.
Becca take Efias hand. We cant stay here, she say. Not next to that.
Best place for us, say Malk. Smell ul drive blokes elseways. Bad luck an cross a workin gibber.
Its bad luck is bad on us too, say Becca. Cant sleep the night an him rottin just outsight.
Malk pull angry at the pray patch in his cloak. Look, he say. Alla Man give em to us. Magic powers in magic words from far off. Magic an the Laws word.
So, say Becca.
So we got cover. Words keep danger off.
An we think good on the corse, say Efia, puttin a hand on Beccas neck, corse think good on us. Right?
The group all gree till Becca stop her moanin.
Into the ruin we go. Nuthin but a dusty shell, tho cooler in than out. Some keep watch while others sleep. Efia sit with Aban. She look round the room wonderin if its a Fast Time manshun. Not built for now, thats for show. In Roil Wells back when she serve in a salt merchants house, it were tall an deep an dark, it were like a net to catch the breeze. Him an his wife baskin in it like fish in water. This ruin tho made for easy livin. No breeze holes nor ducts save whats done by time an weather.
Tell me, say Efia, what you see.
Aban shrug. He watch the road all slick like a river of heat. Sand each side like a cauldron simmerin. Land curvin off in a smudge of haze.
Efia drink from her jercan an Aban from his. Share some saltmeat an beetle grubs from the yewka grove.
Beccas fraid, say Efia.
Aint she always?
Rona keep her strong but she cant carry her all the way.
Dont worry bout Becca.
You reckon its true, say Efia. Bout the patch magic?
Dont you?
Dunno. Aint what I hold to.
Its what we got.
Efia Aban sit sweatin with no more thinks between em. So begin the Numb. Waitins not the word, for waitins a doin an the Numb dont act nor want neither. Its like gettin to be a stone. Or a lizard on a rock. Head empty an heart slow. No pictures, no sayin. All shut down till the heat drop. Wait without waitin for time to start again.
Aban stand when Malk Rona join us. Malk naked, his brown skin gleamin, scars like a map of rivers cross his torso. Efia see Malk hard. Rona fix him, Malk fix her back, her eyes black an sweat on her lip, her breasts bare, Lans necklace of shells tuck between em. No word sayin Efia stir beside him, she lift her shirt an Abans risin too. Efias breasts small, the nips dark an scars in rings bout her belly nub. Malk Rona curl like cats on the floor, Rona take Malk in her gob, Malk groan oh, an Efia bare now, her dress like a pool bout her feet, her feet specky with sand, the slave brand like a half moon on her hip. Aban fix her face, shes weepin Lan, an he lift his jelaba, smell of him sheddin like a skin. Naked Aban go to Malk Rona tremblin place his hands on Ronas head, Malk groanin. Efia creep to bind Aban in her arms, her breasts gainst his back. Some time after, the room blue with shadow, an Becca come step over Rona Aban Malk Efia, step over us, see into her, she squat an the stink of her, Efias black hair tangle in Beccas red an Becca Efia Malk Rona Aban tangle blue in moonlight an now Nathin come, Becca Rona part to take him, he sink into the river of flesh, the one current drag us all one, Rona Becca Aban Efia Malk Nathin, all fuse writhin an bodies blue in moonlight an his on her an my on his an Becca Rona Nathin Aban an Malk Aban an Rona Aban oh Lan Aban Aban
Efia!
wake in belly of night, the moon set an the group flesh to flesh. No sound but the trees only. Leaf whisper Efia take at first for rain. Not rain tho. None for months now. She lie with Rona pressin gainst her, the room smellin of sweat an sleep an cum. The group smell. Becca lie curl up knees gainst her elbows, gob open, corner of her thumb restin in it. Cool at last. Cool that wont stay cos a new days heatin up already out east where the days hatch, but for now a breeze an hearin Efia shiver Aban grope for clothes, his or hers or others, he crawl with the clothes an pull em gentle cross her thigh an belly.
Aban feel to the window look out cross the black still river of the road. See the lighter body of sand each side. Star shadow of the gibber an its lonely corse. Feel the breeze on his skin. More than the corse ul ever do. Live for this. For the dark hours an the smell of night.
Light flickers in the web of trees. Like a star but not so high. Flicker again. Not one star but four or five. More than five. Like part of the nights come down to earth.
Malks beside him. Malks hand on his shoulder.
Bad Shot?
Aban shake his head. Closer, he say. Aban Malk lean half out like stoats sniffin the air, like crits peerin from a burrow. Fraid of the world an its hunger. Come, whisper Malk, an Aban follow cross sleepers into the house, up broke stairs all dusty an heaps of stuff too dark an smash to reckon. Into the room where Malk Rona Becca Nathin sleep out the hot time earlier. Aban grope in the dark but Malk know his way. To a window facin west. Still glass in this, leastways fangs of glass, the middle smash out long ago. Malk Aban look out cross the Thirsty Road, other side all the way to West Cunny. All our hopes there. An more lights strollin. Far off gainst trees a glow of flames. Mid the rain song of nearby trees they listen. Voices just. Grumblin of camels an horses cryin.
Stedders, say Aban.
Could be hoofers.
Middens too far off. More likely stedders. Or juntamen diggin in. Leastways Thirstys under watch.
Road go straight our way.
Till we get done. Load of trollers versus you me an Nathin? Walkin into bad lucks bedroom innit.
Sez you.
Full on campments Malk? Stedders in cammo an akays bout they necks? You see em in Bad Shot.
I see em.
Go low, say Aban. Cross country.
You fraid of slavers? Fraid we hang for Feo?
Fraid on lots of things Malk. Dayup soon. Best be off.
Cross scrub you reckon?
Elseways a dead way.
Livins a dead way. Only place we know we goin.
But not yet Malk.
No.
Not yet.
Malk nod. Thirsty Roads shut to us. Empty Road further souths a junta supply route.
Well before dayup the groups gone an melted into the heave.
4