The Bookman - Lavie Tidhar [90]
He realised Elizabeth was staring up at him, her fists on her waist, an impatient look on her face. "Come on!" she said, and stalked off into the mushroom forest.
He followed her, and as he did became aware of people moving amidst the rich fungi. There were men and women there, though it was hard to see them properly: they seemed to hug the shadows, slither always out of view as if afraid of being seen. They held long, curved knives, a little like scythes, which made him nervous. Yet they seemed to mean no harm, either: and after a minute or two he realised that each of them held a basket in his or her other hand, while they ran their scythes against the gormless mass of the fungus and delicately pruned it, dropping chunks of mushroomflesh into their baskets.
It was a strangely domestic scene, Orphan thought, and it became more so as they came at last out of the mushroom forest and into a loose collection of huts that stood together, forming a miniature village.
Elizabeth halted. They stood in the centre of this tiny village. A dank, though not unpleasant smell seemed to waft over from the giant mushrooms. He opened his mouth to speak and saw that they were no longer alone.
Men and women came out of the shadows and circled them. They wore shabby, ill-fitting clothes, similar to Elizabeth's overall. He could not see them clearly, but felt their attention on him, pressing on him from all sides. He didn't speak. He let his hands fall to his sides, palms open in a gesture he hoped would show him as harmless.
After a long moment an old woman shuffled forward. She wore a dark shawl over her wizened body. Her eyes were bright and curious, and her face, lifted to examine him, was lively. When she spoke, however, it was not to him but to the girl.
"Elizabeth, where have you been?"
The girl traced lines in the dirt with her foot. "I was out exploring."
"You know you're not supposed to leave the tunnels!"
The girl shrugged. She didn't seem overly concerned. Orphan wished he felt the same.
"What is this?" the old woman said, and pointed a crooked finger at Orphan. "I don't recognise your face, young man."
I work on the other side of the island, Orphan was about to say, when Elizabeth blurted out, "He's a pirate, Grandmama!"
The old woman snorted. "Come over here, boy."
Orphan approached her. The woman laid her hand on his shoulder. The pressure was slight, but he understood her and knelt down on his knees, and she peered into his face. "Curious…" she said. Her fingers touched his face and traced its contours. The watchers in the circle observed in silence. After a moment she withdrew from him, her face startled.
"Who are you?" she said, her voice rising. The circle of watchers seemed to move a step closer, closing on Orphan and the potential threat he presented.
"I told you," Elizabeth said impatiently, unmoved by the curious ceremony, "he came from the sea. I found him in the forest."
"Don't be ridiculous," the woman said. But she peered into Orphan's face with new doubt in her eyes. "He almost looks like one of mine…"
"Look," Orphan said, and the woman pulled away from him as if he had bitten her, "I don't know who you are but I mean you no harm. I am… I guess I am a little lost."
"Are you with Moriarty's crew?" the woman said, but she seemed to be speaking to herself rather than to him. "No, you can't be. A soldier? Trying to desert?"
Orphan wasn't sure what to say to that, and in any case the woman continued her musings aloud. "No, you wouldn't survive outside the perimeter. Yet…" Suddenly she darted forward and grasped his arm in her fingers. She was surprisingly strong. She lifted his arm and examined it, and her eyes opened wide when she saw the insect's puncture marks.
"That's impossible…"
"I don't understand," Orphan said.
"Is this a trick?" the woman said. "Who sent you here?"
Orphan decided it was prudent not to mention the Bookman. "I am from the empire," he said. "I had heard stories of Caliban's Island. I… I am an adventurer."