Darren Shan - The Thin Executioner

“I’m not sure I trust her,” whispered Jebel.

“Um Siq are honorable,” Tel Hesani replied. “She won’t betray us.”

There was a wide crack in the hill behind the rock. They squeezed through on their stomachs, Hubaira first, Jebel next, Tel Hesani bringing up the rear. After a short crawl, it opened up into a tunnel, and they were able to stand. The tunnel ran a long way. The walls of the rock were pitted with sharp, spikelike outcrops. Jebel caught his shoulder on one and cursed. He was in a foul mood when he stepped out of the tunnel, and started to complain to Hubaira. But the words died on his lips as his eyes soaked up the sight ahead.

They were at the lip of a narrow canyon that dropped away sharply underfoot. The base of the canyon lay far beneath, shrouded by shadows. Even though the evening light was weak, Jebel could detect an incredible variety of colors in the walls — reds, yellows, blues, greens, and many others, including some he had never seen before, various shades and shapes. Some swipes of color appeared to have been painted on. Others were arranged in a series of circles, spreading out like ripples after a stone has been dropped into water. Certain colors caught the dying rays of the sun and sparkled, while others absorbed the rays and seemed to pulse.

Jebel and Tel Hesani stood at the mouth of the siq, wordlessly studying the floor and walls. Then their gaze wandered ahead to where the siq stretched far in front of them. Neither had seen anything like it before. It was beyond beauty, the work of some higher power, far more glorious than any human construct.

Hubaira spat and grunted. “Don’t worry,” she said. “This is the dull bit. It gets prettier farther in.”

With that, she led them forward on a descent into wonder.

The base of the siq was gloomy, drowning in shadows, the colors of the walls obscured. The ground was dusty underfoot, a very thin path the only testament to thousands of years of human occupancy. As the sun set, the shadows deepened, and it was night in the siq long before it was dark in the hills above.

Tel Hesani would have stopped when night fell, but Hubaira’s pace didn’t falter. Since this was her territory, he followed without question.

Within an hour, Jebel had fallen behind. His eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness. As he paused to drink some water, he noticed a small, sparkling light far overhead. He thought it was a star, but then he realized it was too low. Glancing around, he saw more lights flickering into life, as if a ghost was lighting candles and they were spreading.

“Tel Hesani! Hubaira!” he shouted.

Tel Hesani stared uncertainly at the lights, but the girl only laughed. “You don’t know about fireflits?” When the man and boy shook their heads, she squatted down. “Then we’ll rest here a moment.”

Jebel hurried over to where Hubaira was crouching. As they watched, the lights increased and crept towards them. It was an eerie sensation, seeing lights drift across the walls as if blown by a soft wind. As the lights drew closer, Jebel heard a faint buzzing noise. It wasn’t unlike the buzzing sound made by the insects of the swamp they had passed through not so long ago.

Hubaira whispered, “Don’t move. Keep watching. Look for the flowers.”

It took Jebel several seconds to see them. Then, in the glow from above, he saw that the walls of the siq were imbedded with dainty grey flowers. Each had a single head and several large petals. Jebel spotted an insect hovering at the head of one flower. It was like a locust, but smaller and brightly colored. Its wings beat rapidly, blurring with speed. When they touched together overhead, they produced tiny sparks.

As the fireflit extracted pollen, a spark from its wings hit one of the petals, and it caught fire. The flames consumed the other petals, then the head and stem. The fireflit zipped to another flower, leaving the first to burn to its roots.

“They do that all night,” Hubaira said softly. “Fly from one flower to the next, collect pollen, return to their nests near the top of the siq, then come back for more. The ash feeds the soil, and new flowers will grow in their place tomorrow, ready for a return visit within two or three days.”

“I’ve never heard of such creatures,” Tel Hesani said admiringly.

“Perhaps they’re only found in Abu Siq.” Hubaira shrugged. “We don’t take much notice of them. They’re of no use except for their light, and since we rarely travel through the siq, our paths don’t often cross.”

Hubaira moved forward again. The fireflits scattered, but soon they resumed their endeavors, keeping above head level, where they were safe.

For three hours Hubaira maintained her pace, Tel Hesani marching just behind, Jebel farther back. The um Wadi was sweating beneath the thick, long-sleeved tunic that he had pulled on to combat the chill of the siq, and his legs were aching. Only his determination not to appear weak in front of a girl prevented him from calling for a rest.

Finally Hubaira stopped. “We will sleep here,” she said, moving to the side of the siq. Jebel saw a cave, just large enough to hold the three of them. Hubaira crawled into it and lay on the floor without any blankets.

“Does one of us need to stand watch?” Tel Hesani asked. He’d heard tales that the siq was inhabited by wild creatures.

“No,” Hubaira yawned. “I’m trained to wake instantly in case of attack.”

Tel Hesani unpacked their belongings and laid out mats and pillows for himself and Jebel. Jebel would have liked to sweep the mat aside and sleep rough like Hubaira, but he was cold and uncomfortable already and couldn’t face a night on a stone floor without any protection.

“Why don’t your people use the siq?” Jebel asked after he’d eaten a meager meal — Hubaira refused their offer of food — and climbed into the cave beside the girl. He was gazing at the walls outside, where the fireflits were still active.

“The mountains offer more of a challenge,” Hubaira said. “The siq is for emergencies or children like me. Sometimes we bring livestock this way, if it can’t manage the mountainous trek, but we prefer not to. Also, the siq can become a trap. On the mountains there is always space to run if we’re attacked.”

Jebel wanted to ask who or what might attack them, but Hubaira rolled onto her side, and within minutes she was snoring. Jebel tried to fall asleep as Hubaira had, but he was awake for hours, fascinated by the dance of the fireflits and troubled by the threat of the unknown.

Jebel and Tel Hesani ate strips of cured meat in the morning, but Hubaira again refused to share their meal. “I don’t mean to offend you,” she said. “It’s a condition of my test that I only eat wild plants or animals I’ve caught myself.”

“Don’t you get hungry?” Jebel asked.

“Sometimes,” Hubaira said. “But we train ourselves to ignore hunger. I can go four days without eating. An adult can easily last a week without food.”

They set off about an hour after sunrise. Jebel saw that they’d moved beyond the hills during the night and were now hemmed in by the rocky sentries of the al-Attieg. The range wasn’t at its wildest here, but it was still an incredible sight, mountains rising on either side of them, split evenly down the middle.

The true beauty of the siq only became apparent as the day wore on. The colors and shapes were startling, all the work of nature, unembellished by the hand of man. The siq was narrow — in some places you could touch both walls at the same time — and twisting. It was silent save for the occasional cry of a bird of prey far above.

Hubaira spoke more freely than she had the day before. She was excited at the thought of returning home, having moved one step closer to adulthood. She told Jebel and Tel Hesani of her life, how every member of her race was a warrior. When a child was born, a small spear was pressed into its hands. If it held the weapon, it was raised in the ways of the Um Siq. If it dropped the spear, it was taken up into the mountains and left to perish. Even Jebel thought that was a tad harsh.