The Wind on Fire Trilogy: Firesong. William Nicholson

fellow,’ said Hanno Hath, kneeling down to help with the roadside burial.

      When the body was entirely covered, a dusty mound that would not long resist the wind and the rain, the Manth people stood round the stranger and Hanno Hath rose to his feet to speak the customary funeral words.

      ‘We who are left behind watch you on your way.’

      He fell silent for a few moments. No one spoke or moved. Then he went on with the old words in his quiet clear voice.

      ‘The long prison of the years unlocks its iron door. Go free now, into the beautiful land. Forgive us, who suffer in this clouded world. Guide us and wait for us, as we wait for you. We will meet again.’

      He bowed his head, and they all repeated,

      ‘We will meet again.’

      They could do no more. Hanno gave Bowman a quick sad smile, and turned to his wife. Bowman caught the faint whine he had heard before, and the quick shimmer in the air. He saw his father give a small start, and raise one hand to his throat. Bowman suddenly felt the close presence of danger.

      ‘What is it, pa?’

      ‘Nothing. Some little stinging insect. Nothing to worry about.’

      He turned away, a little too quickly.

      ‘Pa, look at me.’

      Hanno turned back, frowning with annoyance.

      ‘I’m alright, I tell you. We have to get moving. We’ve wasted enough time already.’

      For the last time Bowman looked down at the long mound by the roadside, and wondered fearfully what would make a man tear at his own face. But now the column was reforming, and it was time to go.

      2

      Drunkenness

      While the wagon had been stationary, Seldom Erth had loosened the horses’ harness, and Mrs Chirish had decided to wrap the cook-pots in an extra layer of cloth, afraid that the shaking of the wagon-bed would shatter them. The cows had drifted off in search of grass. Many of the people had sat down.

      Now that it was time to move off again, Hanno Hath started to shout at them.

      ‘You! Cowman! If you can’t control your animals we’ll have them for dinner!’

      Creoth was speechless with surprise. Hanno never spoke like that.

      ‘You! Old man! Did I say you could unharness the horses?’

      Ira Hath, aware that something was wrong, tried to take him aside.

      ‘Hanno –’

      ‘Not now, woman. Come along, everybody! We’ve wasted enough time!’

      Kestrel heard him, and reached out for Bowman with her mind.

       What’s wrong with pa?

       I’m not sure. Something bad’s happened to him. I need to feel him.

       Come on. I’ll help you.

      Kestrel knew what her brother meant when he said he wanted to ‘feel’ their father: he wanted to enter Hanno’s mind. For that he needed close physical contact, preferably brow to brow. But Hanno was moving fast, never staying in one place for long. The twins didn’t want to alarm everyone by making a direct attack on their father.

      ‘Pa,’ said Kestrel. ‘Before we set out again, let’s have a wish huddle.’

      ‘No time,’ said Hanno.

      ‘Please. It won’t take a moment.’

      ‘Ma! Pinto!’ called Bowman. ‘Wish huddle!’

      Hanno turned on them, eyes blazing with anger.

      ‘I am the head of this family! You heard me say we have no time! How dare you disobey me!’

      Pinto had come running.

      ‘But I’d like a wish huddle, pa –’

      Smack! He struck Pinto across the face with the flat of his hand.

      ‘You will do as I say!’

      The blow hurt. Pinto bit her lip to stop herself crying, not understanding how her gentle father could hit her so hard.

      ‘I’m sorry, pa.’

       Hold him! Don’t let him move!

      Bowman and Kestrel hurled themselves forward in the same moment. Bowman got his arms round his father’s chest, pinning his arms to his side, while Kestrel wrapped herself round his legs. Hanno struggled, and fell to the ground, but Bowman did not let go. He pressed his head to his father’s head, and summoned all his power to force his way into his father’s mind. He found it at once, felt its shape without seeing it: it was like a grub, curled up tight, with a thick and slimy skin. He tried to grasp it, but it was slippery, and it wriggled out of his grip. It was strong, and growing stronger, feeding on its host that was his father.

      Bowman set about flooding his own mind into his father’s mind, filling him up, leaving the grub no room to breathe. None of this was apparent to the others, who saw only that Bowman and Kestrel had fallen to the ground with their father in their arms, and were holding onto him. They crowded round, not sure what to do.

      ‘Leave them!’ said Ira.

      Bowman found his father’s brow at last, and pressed his own brow against it, and the force pulsed from him in waves.

       Out! Out! Out!

      Suddenly he felt all resistance cease. His father’s body gave a juddering jerk, and went limp. The creature was gone.

      Hanno Hath let his head fall. Bowman released his hold. He took his father’s face and turned it, so he could see it. It was mottled with pink blotches, and beaded in sweat. Bowman gathered up his loose sleeve and wiped his father’s brow. Kestrel let go of his legs, and moved to his other side, resting his head on her lap. Ira sat down close by, as did Pinto. Hanno’s eyes opened. He looked dazed.

      ‘Are you alright now, pa?’ asked Pinto.

      ‘Yes, darling.’

      Bowman stood up, to reassure the anxious crowd.

      ‘He’s alright. Nothing serious.’

      As he spoke, he looked round all the watching faces, searching for signs of any others who had been attacked in the same way. But everyone seemed as they had been before.

      Hanno got up off the ground, shaking his head and smiling.

      ‘Well, well, well,’ he said. ‘I don’t know what that was all about.’ His eyes fell on Pinto, whose cheek still bore the red mark of his blow. ‘Did I hit you?’

      ‘Yes, pa.’

      ‘I didn’t mean to, my darling. It wasn’t me that did that. I’d never hurt you.’

      ‘I know, pa.’

      Hanno smiled at the staring faces all round.

      ‘I’m not as strong as I thought I was.’

      ‘What was it?’ they asked him. ‘What happened to you?’

      ‘I seem to have been stung by some kind of poisonous insect. There may be more of these insects in the air around us, and they may sting you.’

      The people began to look nervously about them.

      ‘They’re too small to see. Even the sting is tiny. You hardly