Priests of Ferris
Authors: Maurice Gee
The O Trilogy: The Priests of Ferris
PUFFIN BOOKS
Chapter two: The Priests of Ferris
Chapter six: Nick Whistles a Tune
Chapter ten: As Humble as the Worm …
Chapter eleven: On Deven’s Leap
PUFFIN BOOKS
Maurice Gee is one of New Zealand’s best-known writers, for both adults and children. He has won a number of literary awards, including the Wattie Award, the Deutz Medal for Fiction, and the New Zealand Fiction Award. He has also won the New Zealand Children’s Book of the Year Award. In 2003 he received an inaugural New Zealand Icon Award and in 2004 he received a Prime Minister’s Award for Literary Achievement.
Maurice Gee’s novels include the
Plumb
trilogy,
Going West, Prowlers, Live Bodies
and
The Scornful Moon
. He has also written a number of children’s novels, the most recent being
The Fat Man, Orchard Street
and
Hostel Girl
.
Maurice lives in Wellington with his wife Margareta, and has two daughters and a son.
Also by Maurice Gee
The World Around the Corner
Under the Mountain
The Halfmen of O
Motherstone
The Fire-Raiser
The Champion
The Fat Man
Orchard Street
Hostel Girl
Limpy
‘Shall we go then?’ Susan asked.
‘Might as well. But there won’t be anything. The soil won’t be right. Or the climate. Hey,’ he said, grabbing at ideas, ‘what if it runs wild like gorse or blackberry? The Ministry of Agriculture won’t like that too much.’
Susan smiled. A year hadn’t made any difference in Nick. He was still a know-all, still believed he knew more than anyone else. It had made a difference in her. She was no longer a child. She’d started growing up on O, and a year of remembering had turned her into a woman. Child/woman, her mother called her. It would be stretching things, she thought, to describe Nick as boy/man.
They walked over the bridge and through the paddock and made their way along the rim of the gorge. ‘Remember … ’ Nick said, but she stopped listening. The presence of Jimmy Jaspers was strong in this place and she didn’t need Nick to bring him back. She missed the old man in a way close to grief and wondered if perhaps he had died in the year since she’d seen him. Dying would not bother him too much, as long as it happened in the bush, or by a creek, or on a mountain. But she wanted to believe he was still alive and that somehow they would meet again, on Earth or O. She wanted to hear about the places he had explored, the Yellow Plains, the Hotlands, and about the waterfall he had named after her.
They came down to the shingle flat by the mine shaft and stood on one of the tailing mounds looking at the opening. It wasn’t a place to have nightmares about, even when you knew where it led. Even when you thought of Odo Cling and Otis Claw. They were dead, dead and gone, and O was a happy world. She felt pleased with herself, recalling what she’d done. And she felt a deep longing to see O again and meet her friends. ‘I wonder what it’s like there. What do you think Breeze and Brand are doing?’
‘I’m not going to find out,’ Nick said. ‘What if something broke down halfway through?’
‘We shouldn’t ever go unless we have to,’ Susan said.
‘That’ll be never. Hey, if the Shy has grown we can pretend to discover it. A new species. We’ll be famous.’
‘It’s not a game,’ Susan said.
They went on up the creek. She had not been so far since the day a year ago when Nick had left with his parents. She had waved as the car drove up the road, and then wandered through the paddock and along the creek, only half admitting to herself she was going to the place where the seed was planted. Two weeks in the ground should be enough for a shoot to come through. But one bend in the creek away, she had stopped. Something told her she was here too soon. It was almost as if she heard Breeze’s voice – the seed must not be troubled. She sat on a stone in the creek, enjoying the stillness and the sound of water, knowing that just round the corner a miracle was taking place.
Now she saw the stone again, but stopped and held Nick by the sleeve. ‘Do you smell it?’
‘What?’
‘It’s like lemon blossom.’
‘I can’t smell anything.’
She was sorry she’d brought him; but she had waited because he’d been on O. ‘Let’s go quietly,’ she said, letting go his sleeve.
She went on several steps, then stopped again. Several times in her life things that should have surprised her had come as no surprise, they had fitted into a place waiting in her mind. She stared at the stone, the footprint marked in water on its top, and knew it was something she had expected. Nick, skimming pebbles, did not notice. She turned and said to him, ‘I want you to go back to the house.’
‘Hey – ’
‘No. Listen. Get my pack. The K2 Junior. Put in a jersey each. And our parkas. And sneakers and socks. We’d better have a change of underpants … ’
‘We’re not going back to O.’
‘And some food. Bread, cheese … ’
‘It’s too risky.’
‘Raisins and peanuts. Chocolate. Some plums.’ She stopped him breaking in. ‘At least get my stuff. You needn’t come if you don’t want to. If any one sees you, say we’re having a picnic.’
‘No.’
‘Nick, they’ve sent for me.’ She gave him a push. ‘Don’t argue. There’s a sign. You’ll see when you come back.’
She watched him out of sight, then turned and looked at the stone again. The footprint could not have been more than five minutes old. As she watched the sun began to dry it. She did not know why she was sure it came from O. But it belonged to that world just as surely as the smell of Shy.
Susan went on up the creek. She walked on moss round the bend and came to the place where she had planted the seed. It was deep in shade. She had chosen it for that and privacy. Here and there a shaft of light sloped down through the tree cover. A fantail flipped about, feasting on insects. She saw the Shy at once, a silver plant growing no higher than a daphne bush, with a dozen blue flowers just visible in its leaves. It was rather stiff, she thought, a bit like a pen and ink bush, a formal drawing at a chapter head, and for a moment she was disappointed. She had hoped for something that climbed down rocks and grew in crevices. Then she saw its symmetry, its silver leaves and magic flower, and it overcame her. She dropped on her knees to worship it, and almost as if she had expected him she saw the boy in the deepest shade, kneeling in the same attitude. The white soles of his feet stared at her – one of them bent in a way so painful it made her wince. But like her he was lost in the Shy, in its magical scent. She stood up and went to him and put her hand on his shoulder. He jumped like a cat, arching and spitting, then lay on his side and stared at her.
‘I won’t hurt you. Who are you?’ she said.
He made no answer. She saw his throat working as he tried to get words out.
‘Do you come from O?’
He nodded and made a sound that might be ‘yes’. She found him disappointing. Why did he cringe? He had eyes that slid away from hers, and a weasel face. But she wondered if his cheeks were so hollow and his arms so thin because he was starved.
‘What’s your name?’
He croaked again. Impatiently she said, ‘I’m Susan Ferris.’
The effect that had on him was horrifying. He began to whimper. He seemed to want to burrow into the ground and hide himself.
‘What is it? Get up.’
But the boy kept his forehead pressed on the earth.
‘Who sent you?’
His answer was muffled. ‘My sister.’ He raised himself but would not lift his eyes. ‘Her name is Soona.’
‘Where are you from? Why did she send you?’
‘We live in a village called Stonehaven. We are fishermen.’
‘Yes?’
‘The priests – they… ’ His eyes flashed at her and she saw hatred in them. ‘They have taken Soona.’
‘Why? Who are the priests?’
‘They have taken her for the Miracle.’
‘What’s the Miracle?’ She shifted impatiently when he made no answer. ‘None of this makes sense. Why did she send you to me?’
‘She sent me to the Woodlanders. The legends say they know the way to Earth – to Susan Ferris. But the priests … ’
‘Yes?’
‘They say that is heresy. The only way to Susan is through them, and through the Temple. The Woodlanders are … ’
‘Go on.’
‘Vermin, they say. They must be exterminated.’
‘Your priests sound like Odo Cling and Otis Claw.’
The boy writhed at the names. ‘They are the Dark Ones. No one speaks of them.’
She felt sorry for him, but could not understand what he was saying. The world he spoke of did not sound like O.
‘So you found the Woodlanders?’
‘Yes. They said it was time for you to come.’
‘What village did you go to? Shady Home?’
‘Yes.’
‘Were Brand and Breeze there?’
The boy looked up. He seemed to be able to look at her now, even though his eyes kept sliding away. ‘The one who taught me was called Verna.’
‘Ah.’ Susan smiled. It was her O if Verna was there. ‘Was she married? She was going to marry Walt.’
‘There was no Walt. Verna’s mate was Swift.’
‘Swift?’ She looked at him sadly. Verna and Walt had been so close a pair. She could not believe the Woodlander girl had taken someone else. She turned away and looked at the Shy. It was all that kept O clear to her. ‘Was Jimmy Jaspers there?’
‘No.’ He was kneeling again, forehead denting the earth.
‘Where was Jimmy?’
‘They say -’ his voice was faint, ‘the priests say, he lives on Earth with Susan Ferris and … ’
‘And who?’
‘Nicholas Quinn.’
‘Why are you frightened of him?’
‘He – ’ The boy was trembling. ‘He is the Terrible One. He comes for sinners. He slew Odo Cling.’
‘Yes, he did. But he’s not terrible. He’s a sinner himself. And he’s on O, not Earth.’ She decided to say no more, and ask no more. Something had gone badly wrong on O, but it was no use getting it in bits. She would have to wait until she got there.
‘Get up,’ she said to the boy.
Slowly he came to his feet and stood in front of her with his eyes downcast.
‘What’s your name?’
‘Limpy.’
‘Because of your leg? How did you do it?’
‘An accident on my father’s boat. I can’t go fishing any more.’
She saw how it grieved him, and winced again as she looked at his leg. It was shrunken, bent, and had no flesh on it.
‘Does it hurt you still?’
‘No. I can move fast in the forest. But they say I’m no good on a boat any more.’
‘You must have another name.’
‘I like Limpy. It tells the truth.’