Under a Starless Sky novel Chapter 12

Candace was sitting by the water’s edge, lotus pose, meditating. There were two girls her age, sparring with bamboo. They stopped and blocked him from coming closer.

“What do you want, ghost,” the one said.

“I just wanted to talk to Candace. I am her brother,” Shen said.

“There’s no way you’re her brother,” the other said. “You’re not right. Did you fall in bleach?”

“Candace?” Shen asked.

“Don’t summon her,” the other said. “She is far walking.”

“She’s meditating,” Shen said.

“Go away,” the first said.

“May I wait till…”

Hitting him with bamboo encouraged him to go away. He departed. He proceeded along the water’s edge until the forest was so thick he had to swim or turn back. From there he proceeded up to his first campsite. He maintained it, hoping to provide the illusion that this was his only place. He didn’t believe he was being spied on. They didn’t seem to be curious about his life at all. First campsite held a crude tent on the ground, a blanket that had been soaked in Irk pitch and let dried. It was perfectly water proof. He went in and removed the empty jars he had been given to collect honey. There was a rather good size hive nearby which was another reason to maintain this camp. Lower tent was draped over a rope between two trees. One of the trees was near enough to another tree he could climb using one for feet one for his back, and second tent was far enough off the ground the Irk couldn’t get him if he overslept into morning. He had carried bamboo, fallen branches he had cleaned up, and made a platform across several living branches from both trees, reasonably secured with vines. A branch above supported a pitched blanket for a roof, simply draped. It was just big enough to sleep on, and slightly sloped.

From the sleeping space, he could walk branches to a number of trees. There was a couple of crude ramps bridging some of the further gaps, and vine rope, which was simply twisting three vines together, so he had a guide connecting his path. One place he used a vine to swing to the next tree, which always amused him enough he felt good about himself. At the end of the upper path, he climbed down the tree and proceeded on ground, carefully as there were exposed Sleeper Roots, and found his way to his cave. He called it a cave. It was hardly a hollow space. The ceiling did slop towards the exit, which helped carry the smoke from his fire out.

He dropped off his satchel, gathered wood from a pile, came in and got the fire going again, went out to his latrine, and came back. He had been successful enough at bringing gifts, which he had traded for a poncho. He had tried to make one with a pitch covered blanket. It was crude, it smelled bad, and the women had laughed. If he followed the outer rock face of the mountain North, and braced the Sleeping Forest through the darkness until the light returned, he would come to a river. It varied from creek, to full blown river. The water was always cold. During the times the river was shallow, he would explore the mud and invariably find crystals. He had kept some, traded some. He was not sure why no one else had explored this area, as it was reasonably accessible by the route he had taken. There was the stray Irk, but if you were paying attention, you could climb and secure yourself to a branch with a rope before it made you sleep. Fortunately, they didn’t go too far into the dark.