Ricardo Pinto - The Standing Dead

'Morunasa,' he gasped, letting go of the boat so that it lurched into the Maruli, making him stagger and almost fall into the river. Morunasa glowered at Carnelian, who took hold of the prow again and heaved.

'Why are you here, Master?' asked Morunasa, leaning on the boat now safe from the rush of the river.

'I have news for the Master.'

Morunasa's amber eyes did not blink.

'I can tell it to no one but the Master,' Carnelian said, at last.

'He lies in the heart of the Isle of Flies dreaming.' 'Will you take me to him?'

Though Morunasa's face registered no surprise, Carnelian sensed it. The man looked away, thinking. Several times Carnelian saw Morunasa turn back just enough to catch him in the corner of his eye. When he turned fully back, he showed his ravener teeth.

'It might cost you more than a little blood.'

Carnelian knew that he was putting himself into Morunasa's power, but he had made his choice and would not give in to fear.

'I'll pay the price.'

Morunasa regarded Carnelian as if he were some choice morsel. 'Very well. Help me with the boat. We must pull it upstream.'

Carnelian looked round to find Fern regarding him with undisguised misery. They nodded at each other in confirmation of the bargain Carnelian had made Fern agree to. If he were not to return from the island, Fern would destroy the anchor baobabs before taking Poppy and the other Ochre back to the Koppie.

Carnelian and Fern helped Morunasa drag the boat upstream. When the Maruli judged they had gone far enough, they pushed the boat back into the water and Morunasa held it while Carnelian climbed in. His weight made the boat pull into the stream. He saw Morunasa's hands loose their grip. Carnelian looked into the man's eyes and, for a moment, believed he was considering letting the boat go, perhaps calculating that, by the time Carnelian should reach the oar, it would be too late to stop the boat flying over the falls. If those were truly Morunasa's thoughts, he dismissed them, clambered aboard, then took hold of the oar.

Free of the bank, the boat swung into the deeper, faster flow. Morunasa hung his weight upon the oar and they carved a bucking course through twisting, leaping water. Carnelian held on desperately as they were rocked violently, all the while watching the frantic weave of the river tearing towards them. Inclining his head to the right, he saw the shore of the island looming. Craning further round, he saw, terrifyingly close, the livid thresh where the river poured into the chasm. Snapping his head round, he fixed his gaze upon Morunasa, whose lower jaw was pulled to one side by the meshing of his sharpened teeth.

With a grinding shudder, the boat impaled the shore's nest of bones. Small hands appeared along the gunwale and Carnelian saw that pygmies were pulling the boat up in among the great black roots of the banyan. Carnelian vaulted out into the shallows and helped the little men pull the boat out of the water. Letting go, he turned to gaze upon the tree. Its trunks lifted their pillars into a high canopy. Tendrils falling from this had been woven into screens of tortuous complexity through which he could just make out the gloomy cavernous spaces beyond.

Morunasa appeared beside him and beckoned him to follow. The Oracle took him along the shore to where the roar of the falls was emanating from floating clouds of vapour. Entering these, they were instantly drenched. It was hard to see. Carnelian could feel the endless detonation of the falls through the rocks upon which he walked. The roar was becoming unbearable when it began to soften and the mist to thin. A brightening vision of the world drew him until he was gazing down into the chasm in whose depths the river ran glinting away into blue distance.

Carnelian became aware Morunasa was standing near him. Looking round, he saw the Maruli open his mouth to speak and so leaned closer.

'From here since ancient times we've ruled the Blackwater almost to the sea.'

Morunasa gazed out as if he beheld it all. His face bore an expression Carnelian recognized.

'You have a Master's heart,' he cried.

Morunasa turned to pierce Carnelian with his eyes. 'My heart is the Darkness-under-the-Trees.' He extended his arm and curled his fingers into a fist. That darkness has taken possession of your friend.'

Carnelian felt the gesture lacked conviction.

Examining Morunasa more acutely, he saw how thin was his arrogance.

'What's happened?' Carnelian demanded.

Morunasa narrowed his eyes. He considered saying something but then his breath exploded. Taaagh!' He flung his hand up as if he were tearing off a mask and his face was revealed twisted with anger and fear.

'Do you dare set eyes upon the Darkness-under-the-Trees?'

'If the Master is there.'

'Oh, he is there.'

Without another word, Morunasa walked towards the grove and was swallowed into its gloom. Cursing under his breath, Carnelian followed him.

As Carnelian crept in under the first branches, they snuffed out the sunlight. His hackles rose as he became aware of the gloom not just as an absence of light but a thing in itself.

'You must give of your blood,' said Morunasa.

Carnelian remembered how the first time Osidian had returned he had a wound on his wrist.

Morunasa pointed back to the light. 'Shall we return?'

Carnelian knew he had no choice. 'Have you a knife?'

Morunasa grinned, then, quick as thought, grabbed Carnelian's arm and sank his teeth into the wrist. Carnelian jerked his arm back. It was too dark to see the wound clearly. Morunasa urged him to sprinkle blood onto the ground and, resentfully, Carnelian did so, then plucked some leaves to staunch the flow.

The Maruli led him through a series of caverns separated by pillars, between which hung webs of infernal design woven from the roots hanging from every branch. High above, the sky was a scattering of stars peeping through a leafy firmament. The glooms reverberated with the thunder of the falls. A sweet, decaying smell clogged Carnelian's nostrils. The ground beneath his feet squelched and sucked with each step. Disgusted, he stooped to peer and saw he was walking on a carpet of rotting red figs. Morunasa had turned to wait for him, his face transformed by an expression of ecstasy. The air around him hazed as if with smoke. As Carnelian walked to meet him, he became aware of another sound which, masked by the rumble of the falls, was almost an itch in his ear. A thousand snagging tears, as if the fabric of space around him was being sliced apart. The air was thick with flies. His steps faltered and at that moment a stench wafted over him. His heart gave way and he almost cried out, except he feared to open his mouth lest he choke on flies. Close to retching, he became aware of Morunasa looming close, grinning his ravener teeth, his eyes glowing.

The God can taste your fear, he drinks it like a draught of still-warm blood.'

Carnelian glanced round and saw against the loopholes of distant daylight how dense was the swirling of the flies.

'You wish to return,' sneered Morunasa.

Carnelian shook his head, not daring to close his eyes for fear he might never be brave enough to reopen them. He waved Morunasa on.

Deeper into the banyan they went and, with each step, the stench grew. The flies became so numerous he could feel their hail against his skin. To survive the nightmare, Carnelian withdrew inside, tried to dull his senses.

They came into a region where the root tapestries had something at their centres. Squinting, Carnelian saw these were the bodies of Plainsmen, their sallow flesh striped with lacerations. He doubled up and his hands fell into the mush of figs as his body convulsed and pumped out vomit. He stumbled away in horror as he saw the matter turning black with flies.