away and had felt pressured by Ola’s unpleasant semi-aggressive curiosity. He was nothing like what she had imagined people here would be.
‘Ssh!’ said Mia. She was listening intently. Then Annie could hear a sharp regular sound and a thumping. It was coming closer and she realised someone was moving along the path further up and coming towards them. She put her arm round Mia and almost pushed her down behind the tree trunk. The girl landed on the map, which rustled. Then Annie heard the noise again and realised the sharp sound was someone breathing. Panting. But she couldn’t make out whether it was an animal or a human being. She held Mia pressed to the ground, but the tree trunk wasn’t high enough to conceal Annie too.
He never even saw her. He was lumbering up the slope, looking straight ahead, his mouth open, his sharp breathing coming in small laboured gasps. He was very dark, with long, dead-straight hair he had tucked behind his ears. His eyes were narrow and black and he was carrying something in his arms. She had no time to identify it, seeing only that it hindered him as he hurried on. Then he was gone.
She had frightened Mia and was now regretting it. But getting her down out of sight had been an instinctive action.
‘It was only a boy,’ she said, trying to talk away the fear she saw in Mia’s face.
‘Are there animals here?’
‘I don’t know. We must hurry now. It’s not far to Nirsbuan. We might meet Dan. He’ll realise he’s got the wrong day.’
She walked quietly, listening as they went on. The tall, dark-haired boy might turn and come back. Mia noticed she was tense and no longer let go of her hand.
It was colder up there so they escaped the insects. To start with the path was clear and easy, leading down into lowland ground that became wetter until it finally ran into a long marsh, white flowers looking like tufts of wool gleaming in the night light. There were thousands of them in a layer of air moving just above the shifting reddish yellow and green of the sedge. Their boots squelched and it was heavy going. Once or twice the path divided, but Annie had no difficulty distinguishing which was the most used.
The forest had withdrawn to the higher slopes. They got further and further away from it as it grew darker. She reckoned it would soon be growing lighter. Mia said nothing about being tired and Annie didn’t dare ask. They had to go on. But the path was much longer and rougher than she had imagined, the marshy soil sucking at their feet and dragging them down.
They came to a little stream and crossed it. They thought of having a drink of water, but the mosquitoes attacked the moment they stopped. After balancing on stones and crossing to the other side, they found the path divided into several indistinct branches. They trudged round for a while to find the right one, getting further and further away from the stream. When they went back to find the fording place, it had gone.
Stones and clear water rippling with a chattering sound over the fine sandy bottom. Marsh marigolds, not yet out. Some woolly greenish-grey clumps of willow leaning over the water. Twisted birches festooned with black veils. It looked much the same everywhere. She couldn’t tell where they had crossed.
‘You know what,’ she said, trying to sound decisive. ‘I think it’s difficult finding the path up here in the marshland. Suppose we go straight across and try to find the river instead?’
She couldn’t see the water, but it must be the river there behind a broad belt of green clumps and occasional birches. To start with, they followed the stream, but walking there with no path was quite another matter. The ground was uneven and large, hard tussocks of grass grew nearest the stream. She wondered what Mia was thinking as she swiftly glanced around. The tussocks looked like scrubby skulls sticking out of the earth; the birches were twisted and full of knots.
On the last stretch down to the
‘Ssh!’ said Mia. She was listening intently. Then Annie could hear a sharp regular sound and a thumping. It was coming closer and she realised someone was moving along the path further up and coming towards them. She put her arm round Mia and almost pushed her down behind the tree trunk. The girl landed on the map, which rustled. Then Annie heard the noise again and realised the sharp sound was someone breathing. Panting. But she couldn’t make out whether it was an animal or a human being. She held Mia pressed to the ground, but the tree trunk wasn’t high enough to conceal Annie too.
He never even saw her. He was lumbering up the slope, looking straight ahead, his mouth open, his sharp breathing coming in small laboured gasps. He was very dark, with long, dead-straight hair he had tucked behind his ears. His eyes were narrow and black and he was carrying something in his arms. She had no time to identify it, seeing only that it hindered him as he hurried on. Then he was gone.
She had frightened Mia and was now regretting it. But getting her down out of sight had been an instinctive action.
‘It was only a boy,’ she said, trying to talk away the fear she saw in Mia’s face.
‘Are there animals here?’
‘I don’t know. We must hurry now. It’s not far to Nirsbuan. We might meet Dan. He’ll realise he’s got the wrong day.’
She walked quietly, listening as they went on. The tall, dark-haired boy might turn and come back. Mia noticed she was tense and no longer let go of her hand.
It was colder up there so they escaped the insects. To start with the path was clear and easy, leading down into lowland ground that became wetter until it finally ran into a long marsh, white flowers looking like tufts of wool gleaming in the night light. There were thousands of them in a layer of air moving just above the shifting reddish yellow and green of the sedge. Their boots squelched and it was heavy going. Once or twice the path divided, but Annie had no difficulty distinguishing which was the most used.
The forest had withdrawn to the higher slopes. They got further and further away from it as it grew darker. She reckoned it would soon be growing lighter. Mia said nothing about being tired and Annie didn’t dare ask. They had to go on. But the path was much longer and rougher than she had imagined, the marshy soil sucking at their feet and dragging them down.
They came to a little stream and crossed it. They thought of having a drink of water, but the mosquitoes attacked the moment they stopped. After balancing on stones and crossing to the other side, they found the path divided into several indistinct branches. They trudged round for a while to find the right one, getting further and further away from the stream. When they went back to find the fording place, it had gone.
Stones and clear water rippling with a chattering sound over the fine sandy bottom. Marsh marigolds, not yet out. Some woolly greenish-grey clumps of willow leaning over the water. Twisted birches festooned with black veils. It looked much the same everywhere. She couldn’t tell where they had crossed.
‘You know what,’ she said, trying to sound decisive. ‘I think it’s difficult finding the path up here in the marshland. Suppose we go straight across and try to find the river instead?’
She couldn’t see the water, but it must be the river there behind a broad belt of green clumps and occasional birches. To start with, they followed the stream, but walking there with no path was quite another matter. The ground was uneven and large, hard tussocks of grass grew nearest the stream. She wondered what Mia was thinking as she swiftly glanced around. The tussocks looked like scrubby skulls sticking out of the earth; the birches were twisted and full of knots.
On the last stretch down to the
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