Hothouse - Brian Aldiss [54]
The creatures round about that were too late to suffer the privilege of being swallowed by the Black Mouth evidently felt as he did. They turned and limped back towards the shelter of the forest, slowly at first and then faster, until their earlier stampede was reversed.
Soon the landscape was deserted.
Above the humans, five terrible long fingers came to rest precisely together on the lip of the Black Mouth. Then one by one they were withdrawn, leaving Gren with a vision of some unimaginable monster picking its teeth after an obscene repast.
‘But for the greenguts we’d be dead by now,’ he said. ‘Are you all right, Poyly?’
‘Let me alone,’ she said. Her face remained buried in her hands.
‘Are you strong enough to walk? For the gods’ sake let’s get back to the herders,’ he said.
‘Wait!’ Yattmur exclaimed. ‘You deceived Hutweer and the others into thinking you were great spirits. By your running to the Black Mouth, they will know now you are not great spirits. Because you deceived them, they will surely kill you if you return.’
Gren and Poyly looked at each other hopelessly. Despite the manoeuvres of the model, they had been pleased to be with a tribe again; the prospect of having to wander alone once more did not please them.
‘Fear not,’ twanged the morel, reading their thought. ‘There are other tribes! What of these Fishers of which we heard? They sounded a more docile tribe than the herders. Ask Yattmur to lead us there.’
‘Are the Fishers far away?’ Gren asked the girl herder.
She smiled at him and pressed his hand. ‘It will be pleasant to take you to them. You can see where they live from here.’
Yattmur pointed down the flanks of the volcano. In the opposite direction to that from which they had come, an opening was apparent at the base of the Black Mouth. From the opening came a swift broad stream.
‘There runs Long Water,’ Yattmur said. ‘Do you see the strange bulb-shaped trees, three of them in number, growing on the bank? That is where the Fishers live.’
She smiled, looking Gren in the face. The beauty of her stole over his senses like a tangible thing.
‘Let’s get out of this crater, Poyly,’ he said.
‘That dreadful singing monster…’ she said, stretching out a hand. Taking it, Gren pulled her to her feet.
Yattmur regarded them both without speaking.
‘Off we go, then,’ she said sharply.
She took the lead and they began sliding down towards the water, ever and anon glancing back fearfully over their shoulders to make sure that nothing came climbing out of the volcano after them.
chapter fifteen
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At the foot of the Black Mouth they came to the stream called Long Water. Once they had escaped from the shadow of the volcano, they lay in the warmth by the river bank. The waters ran dark and fast and smooth. On the opposite bank, the jungle began again, presenting a colonnade of trunks to the onlookers. On the near bank, lava checked that luxuriant growth for some yards.
Poyly dipped her hand into the water. So fast was it running that a bow wave formed against her palm. She splashed her forehead and rubbed her wet hand over her face.
‘I am so tired,’ she said, ‘tired and sick. I want to go no farther. All these parts here are so strange – not like the happy middle layers of jungle where we lived with Lily-yo. What happens to the world here? Does it go mad here, or fall apart? Does it end here?’
‘The world has to end somewhere,’ Yattmur said.
‘Where it ends may be a good place for us to start it going again,’ twanged the morel.
‘We shall feel better when we are rested,’ Gren said. ‘And then you must return to your herders, Yattmur.’
As he looked at her, a movement behind him caught his eye. He spun round, sword in hand, jumping up to confront three hairy men who seemed to have materialized out of the ground.
The girls jumped up too.
‘Don’t hurt them, Gren,’ Yattmur cried. ‘These are Fishers and they will be perfectly harmless.’
And