Read Online Tales of Noreela 04: The Island by Tim Lebbon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tim Lebbon
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She saw her Kel, the man she loved—the gentle man who had come to Pavmouth Breaks and settled into a quiet, humble trade selling his extraordinary carvings. And she saw Kel Boon, that stranger who had come into her village, now a stranger once more. There was something in his eyes she had never seen before. Namior blinked once, slowly, reaching back and touching the wall rooted in the land, and felt the tingle of wider perception.
Kel’s eyes held fear, but the fear was mostly of himself.
“What have you done?” she asked softly.
“What?” He spoke sharply, glancing down at her hand where it still touched the wall. “You do
that
, to
me?”
Namior moved forward and reached for him, but Kel stepped back, fear turning to anger. “Come with me, please,” she said.
“I’ll take you,” he said. “You come with me. I’ll get you out. We have to
leave!
We have no idea what’s happening, and I have to get away.”
“Why?”
“To tell the Core.” Kel glanced down at his feet as if that was a painful idea. He spoke again, a whisper this time, as though speaking only to himself. “They have to know.”
“You know where I’ll be,” Namior said. And she turned away from Kel Boon, left the Moon Temple grounds and ran along the streets toward her home. With every step she hoped to hear him coming after her, but she suspected that he was already going in the opposite direction, and probably hoping the same.
From the mouth of the path leading up to her home she could look out over the sea and watch the boats sailing ever closer. The mysterious island behind them was like an itch in her eye, so out of place and yet so obvious. Around her, other people stood and stared, some of them fearful, others fascinated.
She hoped she had made the right choice.
FROM THE MOMENT he had left the Core five years before, Kel had been trying to shake it from his bones, his guts, his heart. He had never succeeded. Even after what had happened with O’Peeria, he was Core through and through. Fleeing from the Core had been fleeing from himself, and it was not until he hit the western shores of Noreela that geography had forced him to stop. Inside, he had kept running, changing himself totally in the hope of erasing his old life and creating something new. The wood carving took a very particular and concentrated talent, and sometimes he went a whole afternoon without remembering the best ribs between which to slip a knife when stabbing a Stranger from behind, the feel of breath on his hand as he broke someone’s neck, or how to sleep at night knowing all the things he had done.
Sometimes, that was the hardest. Sleeping. As night fell and only the sea broke the silence, so the voices grew louder.
To begin with, he thought Namior would come after him.She was proud and strong and dedicated to her family, and she would persuade them to come along and flee with him. So he went slowly, passing the bodies in the Moon Temple gardens as he headed down toward the expanded river. Few people spared him a glance; whether they went down to the river, or back up into the village’s heights, most only had eyes for the sea and what it had brought in that morning.
But the more he remembered Namior’s eyes, the more he realized she had already silently vowed to stay.
If only I could persuade her
, he thought.
If only I’d been more honest with her
. But the more time that had passed without his telling her about his history, the more difficult that prospect had become.
Perhaps there was still time. Up to his place on Drakeman’s Hill, get the stuff he needed, back down to Namior’s home …
Perhaps.
He jumped a wall and skidded down a steep garden of flowering fruits, releasing a wonderfully sweet aroma to the air. It was soon swept away by the breeze, replaced once again by the stink of mud and sea. He burst through a gate onto a path that had been chopped in half.
He skidded to a halt just in time. Another step and he would have
Kel’s eyes held fear, but the fear was mostly of himself.
“What have you done?” she asked softly.
“What?” He spoke sharply, glancing down at her hand where it still touched the wall. “You do
that
, to
me?”
Namior moved forward and reached for him, but Kel stepped back, fear turning to anger. “Come with me, please,” she said.
“I’ll take you,” he said. “You come with me. I’ll get you out. We have to
leave!
We have no idea what’s happening, and I have to get away.”
“Why?”
“To tell the Core.” Kel glanced down at his feet as if that was a painful idea. He spoke again, a whisper this time, as though speaking only to himself. “They have to know.”
“You know where I’ll be,” Namior said. And she turned away from Kel Boon, left the Moon Temple grounds and ran along the streets toward her home. With every step she hoped to hear him coming after her, but she suspected that he was already going in the opposite direction, and probably hoping the same.
From the mouth of the path leading up to her home she could look out over the sea and watch the boats sailing ever closer. The mysterious island behind them was like an itch in her eye, so out of place and yet so obvious. Around her, other people stood and stared, some of them fearful, others fascinated.
She hoped she had made the right choice.
FROM THE MOMENT he had left the Core five years before, Kel had been trying to shake it from his bones, his guts, his heart. He had never succeeded. Even after what had happened with O’Peeria, he was Core through and through. Fleeing from the Core had been fleeing from himself, and it was not until he hit the western shores of Noreela that geography had forced him to stop. Inside, he had kept running, changing himself totally in the hope of erasing his old life and creating something new. The wood carving took a very particular and concentrated talent, and sometimes he went a whole afternoon without remembering the best ribs between which to slip a knife when stabbing a Stranger from behind, the feel of breath on his hand as he broke someone’s neck, or how to sleep at night knowing all the things he had done.
Sometimes, that was the hardest. Sleeping. As night fell and only the sea broke the silence, so the voices grew louder.
To begin with, he thought Namior would come after him.She was proud and strong and dedicated to her family, and she would persuade them to come along and flee with him. So he went slowly, passing the bodies in the Moon Temple gardens as he headed down toward the expanded river. Few people spared him a glance; whether they went down to the river, or back up into the village’s heights, most only had eyes for the sea and what it had brought in that morning.
But the more he remembered Namior’s eyes, the more he realized she had already silently vowed to stay.
If only I could persuade her
, he thought.
If only I’d been more honest with her
. But the more time that had passed without his telling her about his history, the more difficult that prospect had become.
Perhaps there was still time. Up to his place on Drakeman’s Hill, get the stuff he needed, back down to Namior’s home …
Perhaps.
He jumped a wall and skidded down a steep garden of flowering fruits, releasing a wonderfully sweet aroma to the air. It was soon swept away by the breeze, replaced once again by the stink of mud and sea. He burst through a gate onto a path that had been chopped in half.
He skidded to a halt just in time. Another step and he would have
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