Helix and the Arrival Read online

  ‘Give what a chance? It’ll never work. End of story!’

  I swallow the last of my breakfast charcoal. Mum and Dad are still arguing as I leave the cave.

  Before heading to Newstone, though, I visit Ug. His cave has a wide entrance and I can see his family – mother, father and younger twin brothers (the Uglets, I call them) – sitting around the fire.

  I stand at the entrance, trying to make myself seen but not wanting to intrude. Ug’s father, Ugthorn, spots me. He stands and says, ‘Helix, come in.’

  I enter their cave slowly, not sure if Ug wants me there.

  ‘How are your Arrival preparations going?’ asks Ugthorn, in his deep, cavemanly voice.

  ‘Well, thanks,’ I say.

  Ugthorn turns to Ug. ‘Ug, you didn’t tell me how your trip to the woods went yesterday.’

  ‘We just walked a lot,’ says Ug. ‘There was not much to hunt.’

  Ugthorn nods. He’s an even bigger version of Ug and easily the strongest man on the mountain. He’s so big you could fit six of my father inside him. He’s known to be a fine hunter, too. Ugthorn’s family never has to eat meat-on-a-stick for breakfast. They eat meat-on-a-bone, and it’s often a large bone. Scattered around them and piled high are the leftovers of their breakfast – bones of all shapes and sizes.

  Ug steps towards me. I think he can tell I want to talk. We walk outside his cave and away from the entrance.

  ‘I just wanted to say –’ I begin.

  Ug interrupts me and puts a hand up. ‘Do not say anything. There is nothing to be said.’

  ‘I didn’t mean for things to turn out how they did yesterday.’

  ‘Why did you not spear the fawn?’ he says. ‘And what was so special about the river that you had to nearly get us killed by a riverman?’

  ‘That wasn’t a riverman,’ I say. ‘It was a rivergirl.’

  A Saleeka-ish voice comes from behind me. ‘What? Who was a girl?’

  ‘Oh, it’s you,’ I say.

  ‘Yes, it’s me, you bonehead. Who’s this girl you’re talking about?’

  ‘The river person who shot the arrow – she was a girl,’ I say.

  ‘No way,’ says Saleeka.

  ‘I promise you, she was a girl.’

  ‘Well,’ says Saleeka, ‘I could fire an arrow just as far as she did.’

  ‘It does not matter,’ says Ug, having the final word. ‘The point is, we were trying to help you yesterday and you did not even try. What is the matter with you, Helix? Do you not know what will happen if you fail your Arrival?’

  ‘Of course I know,’ I say. ‘It’s the first and last thing on my mind every day. At night, almost every night, I dream about it. And the dream always ends the same way: with me pulling a scrunge rat out of my loincloth as my offering.’

  ‘Then why don’t you do something about it?’ says Saleeka. ‘It’s not like you have to spear a sabre-tooth for your Arrival. You just have to get something biggish. Or dangerous. Or rare.’

  ‘If I could, I would,’ I say, ‘but it’s not that simple. The truth is, I don’t like the idea of throwing my spear at something and killing it.’

  ‘That is weird,’ says Ug. ‘You should not say such things aloud.’ He looks around to make sure no one else is listening. ‘If it were not for hunting, our people would starve.’

  ‘You say yourself that the river people grow food from the ground for eating,’ I say.

  ‘So?’ says Ug. ‘What has that got to do with anything?’

  ‘I’m just saying that you don’t need to eat a bison leg with a side of boar ribs every night. There are other types of food, you know.’

  ‘Helix!’ says Saleeka, stepping forward. ‘The river people are savages. They live down there in the mud and are too lazy to hunt beasts, which is why they eat plants.’

  ‘None of us has crossed the river, so we can’t say why they eat what they eat. And as for living in the mud, did you see their roundhouses? They were amazing!’

  ‘Why are you talking so foolishly, Helix?’ says Ug.

  ‘I’m just speaking the truth as I know it,’ I say.

  Ug turns around to leave.

  ‘Where are you going?’ I say.

  ‘Hunting with my father. We have hungry mouths to feed, Helix, and I have a responsibility to become a caveman.’

  I’m left with Saleeka.

  ‘You don’t appreciate how lucky you are,’ she says.

  ‘What is it now?’ I ask.

  ‘I’ve turned down another potential husband in Newstone,’ she says, her voice beginning to crack.

  ‘You mean Nobak? That guy who shaves his back?’

  ‘Yes, that’s him.’

  ‘If it’s any consolation, I think you made the right choice there.’

  ‘I know I did. But now my father says that the next husband he chooses will be the one I have to marry.’

  ‘Can’t you just say no? I mean, what’s the worst they can do?’

  ‘The Dark Side, Helix, the Dark Side. Speel has already mentioned it to my father in private. If I don’t agree to marry by the summer solstice, he will see to it that I’m banished.’

  ‘Wow,’ I say. ‘Maybe we’ll end up being neighbours once I get banished too.’

  ‘It’s not funny, Helix. I don’t want to live on the Dark Side. I want to live in Rockfall, go hunting, start a flint collection, spear a river person … Why can’t I?’

  ‘I’ll tell you why,’ I say. ‘Because it’s written. If you ask Speel, I can guarantee that’s what his answer will be.’

  ‘All I want is what you have: the opportunity to prove yourself.’

  ‘Is that what you think I have?’ I say. ‘Because I don’t feel that way at all. I feel like I’m doomed to fail.’

  ‘You know what I think?’ she says, her face turning red. ‘I think you’re the most ungrateful caveboy on the mountain. There!’ She storms off, tilting her head upwards and releasing a loud scream that bounces off the mountain.

  It’s settled. Neither of my best friends likes me anymore and a long walk to Newstone is looking like a pretty fun day out right now.

  Sometimes loneliness isn’t such a bad thing. There’s no one to tell you you’re wrong or stare at you like you’ve got rocks in your head.

  I take my time walking to Newstone, especially on those sections of the Common Way that overlook the lowlands. The river people and their roundhouses have taken on a new light. No longer are they distant blobs down below, shaped by the stories in Speel’s tablets. They’re now something much more real.

  I reach Newstone and strum Veldo’s bandi-twang. He immediately appears at the entrance, his long arms flapping by his side.

  ‘Helix!’ he says. ‘Come in! You’ve arrived at the perfect time. Mason has, like, just prepared some fern slugs he collected this morning.’

  I enter Veldo’s cave and Mason offers me a slug from a stone platter. ‘Here,’ he says, ‘try one. They’re, like, big and juicy at this time of year.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘I’ve never eaten fern slugs before.’

  Veldo waits in anticipation while I lower the slippery slug into my mouth.

  ‘What do you think?’ he says.

  The slimy texture of the slug in my mouth is a bit weird at first. Then I bite down and it explodes, its juices lathering my tongue. ‘Mmm … Delicious,’ I say. ‘The flavour is soft and sweet, much milder than the charcoaled meat I’m used to.’ I’m wondering if I could hunt a fern slug and present it as my Arrival offering.

  ‘You’ve come for the writing skins, yar?’ says Veldo.

  ‘Yes, and to give you back your rock. Thanks for letting me borrow it. It’s beautiful.’ I hand it back to him.

  Veldo cradles the rock in both hands. I can see it’s precious to him.

  ‘Where did you get it from?’

  ‘It came from … Let me see … Like, my father’s father’s father.’

  ‘Your great-grandfather,’ I say.

  ‘Yar, tha
t’s right. The story goes he and his friends, like, found the rock in the river.’

  ‘The river?’

  ‘Yar, I know it sounds weird,’ says Veldo, making crazy arm movements. ‘He used to, like, tell the story to my father when he was a little boy, and my father told the story to me.’

  ‘I don’t think it sounds crazy. My great-grandfather used to tell stories about the river as well. His name was Herb and he was friends with Korg the Magnificent, back when he was known as Crev.’

  ‘No way!’ says Veldo, in a flurry of arms. ‘So was my great-grandfather! His name was Vedgar.’

  ‘Vedgar,’ I repeat, but the name doesn’t seem familiar. ‘Yeah, everyone in my family thought Herb’s stories were made-up.’

  Veldo turns the rock over between his fingers. ‘I like to imagine Vedgar’s story is true, no matter what people think.’

  It would be great to stay and talk some more with Veldo but if I don’t leave soon it will be dark before I return to Rockfall. We say our goodbyes and I take the remaining writing skins.

  The walk back along the Common Way has me thinking about the river and long-gone cavemen like Herb and Vedgar. Why did no one believe their stories about the river and beyond? If only Herb were still around, I could ask him about his adventures.

  I try to walk faster, now. The sun is getting close to the landline and chill is replacing warmth.

  Then an arrow hits me in the chest.

  Instinctively, I go down on one knee.

  I look up and see Steckman, the cave-to-cave salesman, standing above me.

  ‘Got you,’ he says. ‘Do you like it? The latest in my new cavekid range: sap arrows.’

  The arrow, which I can see now doesn’t have an arrowhead, is stuck to my chest with a thick glob of tree sap. I pull it off, stand back up, and hand it to Steckman. ‘It’s great,’ I say. ‘I wish I’d played with something like that when I was growing up. Maybe then I’d be a better hunter by now.’

  ‘That’s the idea,’ he says. ‘Teach them young but make it fun. Hmm … That’s pretty good! Perhaps that could be my sales pitch …’ He drums his fingers on his orange-bearded chin.

  ‘Sounds catchy,’ I say. ‘Have you sold any yet?’

  ‘Not in Rockfall,’ he says. ‘No one wants to have fun in Rockfall – it’s all serious faces and watching the heavens in case something drops down.’

  ‘Where’s Porgo?’ I ask. ‘You didn’t take him to Rockfall, did you?’ I have a picture in my mind of Porgo being slow-roasted on a spit above hot coals.

  ‘Do I look daft to you, Helix?’ Steckman gives two quick whistles and from the bushes leaps Porgo, gurgling and snorting with delight.

  She stampedes towards me and, just like last time, knocks me over and pins me to the ground with her bristly belly, licking me slowly from chin to forehead. It’s very gross.

  ‘I’ve been making her travel below the Common Way, lest I should meet a group of hunters as we walk,’ says Steckman, unconcerned that his trainee pet is covering my face in swamp-boar saliva.

  ‘Can. You. Get. Her. Off. Me?’ I splutter.

  ‘Porgo, leave!’ says Steckman.

  Porgo lets out a blather of gruntish squeals and lifts her bristly belly off me.

  ‘Porgo, sit!’ commands Steckman.

  She slumps down with her back against a rock, looking a bit gloomy.

  ‘Are you going to Newstone now?’ I say, wiping the swamp-boar spittle off my face.

  ‘Yes. And then I’ll head to the Dark Side. They’re not big on trading but I like to visit them from time to time.’

  Steckman must be desperate to trade his goods if he’s willing to venture to the Dark Side.

  ‘And then will you go to the lowlands? To the river people?’ I ask.

  ‘Most definitely. I think sap arrows will be a big seller there.’ He twirls an arrow about in front of his face.

  ‘Yes, river folk are good with a bow and arrow,’ I say. ‘Actually, one shot at me yesterday.’

  ‘Very funny, Helix,’ says Steckman.

  ‘I’m not joking,’ I say. ‘I was looking across the river from the long grass beyond the low woods, and one of the river people – a girl – shot at me. Twice!’

  ‘And?’ Steckman is interested in my story now.

  ‘Both arrows went over my head and into a tree.’

  ‘Then you can be sure she wasn’t aiming for you,’ says Steckman. ‘River people don’t miss.’

  ‘I guess she must’ve liked me then.’

  Steckman doesn’t react to my last comment – he’s distracted by his foot.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ I ask.

  ‘This toe of mine.’ He shows me his big toe. It’s swollen and red.

  ‘That looks painful,’ I say.

  ‘Yes. It’s slowing me down more and more as each day passes. Never mind. I’ll have it seen to in the lowlands.’

  ‘How will it help your toe to visit the lowlands?’ I ask.

  ‘The river people understand medicine,’ he says. ‘Whenever I need a remedy, I seek it from their medicine man.’

  ‘Is he like Krike?’ I ask. Krike is Rockfall’s medicine man.

  ‘Er … Not really. Old Krike with his sack of potions isn’t what I’d call a medicine man. I’ve seen him do more harm than good over the years.’

  ‘How do you cross the river?’ I ask him.

  ‘Now you are asking too much, Helix.’

  ‘So there’s a crossing point? There must be. The river looks too wide and fast-flowing for folk to swim –’

  ‘I’d best be on my way, young Helix,’ interrupts Steckman. ‘Take care.’ He leaves, favouring his good foot, with a jangle from the sacks that hang from both sides of his body. As he limps away, he lets out two short whistles.

  Porgo waddles to her feet and trots obediently after him.

  I return to Rockfall just as the light is starting to fade. The first thing I notice is a commotion in front of Ug’s family’s cave.

  I move closer and see that Ugthorn is lying on the ground, not moving. He has a bloody wound in his side. Ug is kneeling beside him and he too is covered in blood.

  It seems that the whole of Rockfall is circling them, waiting for the next scene to unfold in this tragedy.

  I see Saleeka. ‘What happened?’ I ask her.

  She has her hands covering her face and takes a while to respond. ‘They were hunting deep in the woods, Ug and his father. A sabre-tooth leapt from behind some thick bushes and started to attack Ug …’

  ‘His father tried to save him,’ I say, filling in the gaps.

  ‘Yes. His father did save him. But now Ugthorn …’

  I look at Ugthorn again. His huge chest is barely rising and falling. Fresh blood is trickling from somewhere under his loincloth. Ug’s face is white, his mother is sobbing and the Uglets are crying. Their father is dying.

  ‘How did they make it back?’ I say.

  ‘Ugthorn managed to kill the sabre-tooth, even with his wounds. Then Ug carried his father back.’

  ‘Ug carried Ugthorn back?’

  ‘Yes, all the way back up through the woods to Rockfall.’

  I feel a lump forming in my throat and I want to go to Ug. But Ug is grieving with his mother and the Uglets, so I stay a short distance back.

  The crowd divides into two as the figure of Korg the Magnificent, closely followed by Speel, arrives.

  Ugthorn’s wife, Edla, falls at Korg’s feet and says, ‘Please, oh magnificent one. Please do something … Please …’

  Korg looks around and fixes his eyes on me. ‘Helix, go and fetch Krike. Be quick.’

  He’s chosen me because he knows I can run. Without answering him, I depart as fast as my legs will carry me.

  Krike lives in a cave along the Common Way, halfway between Rockfall and the Dark Side, in the opposite direction around the mountain from Newstone.

  I run as fast as I can, but the light is fading fast. I arrive at Krike’s cave in total darkn
ess and double over to catch my breath. My leg muscles are throbbing with tiredness.

  There’s a torch burning at the entrance, which tells me Krike is inside.

  ‘Hello? Is anyone there? It’s Helix of Rockfall,’ I say.

  There’s no reply, but this is an emergency, so I do what I would never normally do and enter the cave without being invited.

  The first thing I notice is a heavy odour. It’s an animal odour and it’s coming from a large stone pot above a fire, which contains a bubbling brown liquid. The smoke from it invades my mouth and nostrils and makes my eyes water.

  I look around the cave. On the walls hang animal parts. Some I can identify – the head of a mountain wolf, the skin of an adder, the beak of a vulture – but others I can’t; they look more like something left over from a caveman’s feast.

  Then I see Krike. He’s asleep, holding onto a drink bladder. His beard is encrusted with brown flakes, which are the same colour as whatever is bubbling away in the stone pot.

  I walk over to him. ‘Krike. Krike! Wake up!’

  ‘What? Who? I didn’t do it! The tablets are wrong! It was my brother – it was Spike, not me!’ He thrashes his arms around as if he’s falling through the air, then his eyes snap open and he stands up. He’s a wide man, as well as very short. It’s possible he was squished by a falling boulder at some point.

  The first sound Krike makes once he’s stood up comes from his mouth. Buuuurp. It is so powerful that his bearded lips wobble furiously. Next comes another sound. It’s similar to the first, but this one doesn’t come from his mouth. He shifts his weight to one side and lets out an explosion of wind – so much wind that the back of his loincloth moves as if a strong gust of breeze has just swept through the cave.

  I immediately put my forearm across my nose in an act of self-preservation. The smell is too much.

  ‘It’s Helix of Rockfall. You need to come with me. One of the men in Rockfall has been seriously wounded by a sabre-tooth.’

  Krike reaches for his drink bladder and takes a gulp of the brown liquid.

  ‘A sabre-tooth you say? And he’s still alive?’

  ‘Yes, he’s still alive. But only just.’

  ‘Won’t be long, then. Sabre-tooth fangs contain poison.’