Skye City: The Darkness of Emmilyn

Barbecue

In the evening, Nelson and I are sitting with a few others in the garden with little to say. Our light sources are limited to the windows of the airship and the twin moons and stars. I just stare at the shadowy vegetation, analysing every visible leaf, every gnarled trunk; my eyes drawn to plants growing from bark like parasites. This place is secluded, yet daunting, safe from many dangers, yet posing many more, and the relief is already becoming boredom, but it is a boredom tinged by nervousness.

A hunting party finally returns, having left first thing in the morning. Torchlight brightens the garden as they walk through the gates in two groups of four and five, each carrying a carcass by ropes which are binding the ankles. The carcasses are grey but dappled with black spots and pig-like with long snouts. One is much larger than the other – possibly a mother and calf. Poor things.

One of the guards, Jeff, locks the gate by sliding a trunk through a slot, and the two groups drop their carcasses, gasping, and stretching their arms. Their faces all bear subtle, self-satisfied smiles.

'We had to walk miles to find these, I'm bloody knackered,' Anguson says, looking across to me and Nelson. He seems to always acknowledge us first if the captain is not around. This feels strange, given we are kids, but it probably has something to do with his relationship to my brother.

'Twenty seven miles in total, according to the satnav,' Samaire says, also looking my way.

'For a while I was thinking the whole jungle was empty, apart from the constant chirping. You can literally hear things all around, but it's like they're invisible,' Anguson says.

'The birds were perfectly visible,' Ahran says. 'But there are few large creatures in these parts. For a jungle, it's surprisingly barren.'

'Well, we still found something worth eating. Why doesn't someone tell the others as we prepare the spit roasts? We can have a barbecue. Just bring the plates and stuff,' Anguson says.

'And don't forget the water. Ahran thirsty.'

I enter the airship and head upstairs to notify the others of the coming feast, and half the ship returns to the garden, carrying plates, cutlery, glasses and jugs of water. With so many down here, the garden suddenly looks a whole lot smaller and some opt to sit in the entrance to the airship. I wonder how on Eryx we are gonna feed so many mouths, but I suppose that is a lot of meat. Ahran is drinking the moment the jugs hit the grass, and the other hunters are not far behind, gulping pint after pint. The carcasses are hanging from spit roasts with slashes crisscrossing their hides as Anguson lights the bonfires.

Everyone nearby sits on the grass, apart from the captain who stands before the coming feast and says, 'Thank you for your efforts. That's great work. The more food we can find for ourselves, the better. We should minimise the use of our supplies because self-sufficiency will be key to our long term survival. There should be more than enough meat here to feed us tonight and possibly tomorrow too.'

I size up the carcasses, thinking those words are definitely optimistic, or maybe they will spread further than I think. I am hardly experienced at this sort of thing.

'And we've got berries for the appetiser,' Ethnie brings a large bowl and hands it around the group, then Saf passes another bowl around. When a bowl reaches me, I grab a handful of eliga berries and pass the bowl on. I feel reluctant to eat them, but others have taken the risk without ill-effects so I give them a try. They taste a little bitter, not the kind of things you would eat by choice, but I wolf my handful down. It feels like nothing, like I am swallowing air.

My eyes sting from the smoke as I stare at a weird tree, with foliage half purple, half green, like it has been split down the middle.

'Years in the Rebellion, I've lost count of the number of times I've gone into the wilderness and lived off the land. You'd think it'd be easy, but there's something about this place,' Anguson says.