Everett claps Riley on the shoulder. It’s impossible to be sure, but she thinks he’s pleased. Together they run back into the forest, back up the mountain, through green leaves dripping with fresh rain.
Tonight there will be a fire by the Ferris wheel. Riley helps Oliver through the orchard, which is green and alive with birdsong. The evening air has a hint of autumn chill in it, and Riley pulls her rabbit-skin cap down over her ears. She has made one of these for everyone at Nowhere.
The wound in Oliver’s leg is somewhat better – it seems to have settled into a constant dark angry red. It refuses to fully heal. Riley thinks the recent bad nutrition is partly to blame. She hopes it will be ok now. Oliver says it doesn’t hurt much. Riley tries to keep it clean. Sometimes she can smell the wound, its sweet rotten odour.
A bonfire of pine crackles at the base of the cliff. Sparks rise red in the night. Firelight plays on the rusting metal of the Ferris wheel.
The children are seated in a circle on the grass. Light dances on their uplifted faces. They are looking at the stars.
Noon gets up and draws Riley and Oliver into the centre. Riley feels a stab of fear. What if her blood is to feed the land? Maybe the woman’s blood wasn’t enough. But Noon touches her cheek and smiles. She takes something from her pocket, and puts it around Riley’s neck, where it sits alongside her locket. It’s a rib, a small one, from a baby deer maybe, pierced at either end, strung on a red cord. The bone is pure white and polished by age. Riley puts her hand over it. The bone is very cold to the touch.Just been dug up, Riley thinks.
‘You’ve been patient,’ Noon says. ‘I know it wasn’t easy. But you have proved yourselves, and you have waited long enough.’
Noon gives Oliver a necklace of small vertebrae that click together like beads.
‘You are both part of us now,’ Noon says. ‘No more doubt or fear.’ A hard lump rises in Riley’s throat. She nods.
Around the circle, everyone claps and whoops. They crowd in to hug Riley and Oliver.
‘Welcome,’ Noon whispers in Riley’s ear. ‘You will always be Nowhere and Nowhere will always be you.’
The children turn to the east as one, towards Nowhere House in the distance, and Riley finds herself turning too. As the others put their hands to their lips, she follows suit. For the first time, Riley gives Nowhere her breath too.
Now here.
They laugh and drink small sips of burning liquor from a bottle, something that tastes of liquorice, with weird lettering on the label. It’sold, the neck of the bottle crusted with white sediment. Each mouthful lights up their bodies like fireworks. Midnight does an impression for the kids, of the men running away from the gate. The children scream with laughter, jumping up and down in the light of the flames.
Noon comes to Oliver. ‘Do you want to go play with them?’
‘But it’s not allowed,’ Oliver says.
‘That was before. Now it’s allowed.’
Even so he looks to Riley for permission. She smiles and gives him a little push. ‘Go on, Oliver Olive.’
The children scream and chase each other, Oliver panting with his odd hobbling run. Riley watches with a painful twist in her heart. She looks at Cal, sitting across the circle in the firelight. His head nods and sinks to his chest every so often. He’s always tired from walking the mountain, looking for his brother. But as she watches he looks up and meets her eyes.
Riley quickly looks away but she still feels his gaze, which sends blood coursing through her cheeks.
She realises that Everett is standing in front of her. He holds a hand out and after a moment Riley takes it. He shakes it twice, up down up down, then turns smartly and walks to the other side of the fire where Dawn is talking to Midnight about something that makes them laugh. Everett sits down cross-legged nearby. He is still. He keeps his eyes on Dawn.
‘I’m sorry.’
Riley starts. Noon’s face is close to hers in the firelight. ‘Sorry for what?’
‘It’s hard, to take the blood sometimes.’ Noon’s words are a little slurred.
‘I saw what she did to those kids.’ Feeling and conviction well up. Riley hesitates. ‘Is it real?’
Noon smiles. ‘Depends what you mean.’
‘Does bleeding her make the land better?’
‘I think so,’ Noon says. ‘I think it makes the world better.’
‘Me too,’ Riley says, fierce, and Noon takes Riley in her arms. They hold each other tightly for a moment. Midnight strides over, singing, something out of tune about hills and pipes calling. She takes the bottle from Riley with a flourish. ‘I’m older than you, you shouldn’t even be having this.’ Noon follows her, leaving Riley alone.
‘Come for a walk,’ Cal says in her ear. Riley nods.
