Goldenscale

Friday 24 March

61

Diary: I woke up in my bed this morning. Nothing unusual about that, except I can’t remember getting there. The cellar door to my room memories are gone — I hope I didn’t drop anything out there. I have a big bruise on my left hip and three small cuts across the upper part of my right arm. My shoulders and ankles are bright red and itch like fire. Some kind of allergic reaction?

I had another nightmare. This time D was some type of judge, wearing a coat of golden scales. When he tried to sentence me, flames shot from his mouth. D is somehow alive, in a faint kind of way, in my dreams. Pulling strings, twitching me this way and that. I think the longer things go on, the weaker his control becomes. But I would be very wrong to think I am now running things. Sometimes along the way I thought I was in control, or equal, but really, I knew nothing. At least I’ve woken up, I think.

What if he hurts me, or someone else? Dr Graydon will be here this afternoon, and no-one is going to listen to little Bethy and her freaky warnings. What to do, if anything at all is to be done?

One little idea occurred to me — when I was thinking over the story of Woolgangie. Too crazy to write down. Some things that feel true don’t look true in print. Maybe later I’ll try to figure it out and put it down here. Maybe.

Breakfast was a strange affair. Beth did her best to act as if all was normal, but felt her true state of mind must be obvious. Sam’s absence made her uneasy, though she knew he would go straight to school from Ken’s place She kept wishing he’d walk through the door.

Her father stood before her, and raised his eyebrows.

‘Well? What do you think of the suit?’ Nick raised an arm, turned, slung his coat over his shoulder.

‘Very nice,’ she told him, deciding not to comment on his creased coat, and the dog hairs on his trousers. Rare was the day a tie could be seen around Nick’s neck, so she considered his get-up a great achievement. ‘Sharp, almost.’

‘Almost is good enough,’ he said. ‘Have to squire around a few visitors from Sydney today. Come to see the local infrastructure. Such as it is.’

‘Congratulations,’ said Beth.

‘Need a lift?’

‘No thanks, Dad. Len’s out of town now, so you don’t have to worry. I’m meeting Jo.’

Liar, liar!

‘Okey dokey. Your mother and I are catching some opera tonight.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘I’ll catch up on some sleep. You kids can buy pizza. A healthy one. If that’s possible.’

As soon as he was out the door, Beth limped down the street, leg aching. The sun was already warm and steady. At the corner of Serpentine and Topaz, she entered a graffiti-covered phone booth, and dialled. The dragon flies tonight. He flies he flies, someone dies, he flies … we all die … 

One ring. Two … three … twelve. She fidgeted. The distant phone chirped away. ‘What?!!’ The voice was loud and gruff.

‘Who’s that?’ she asked, quailing.

‘Who’s askin’? Whatterya want!!??’

Beth flinched away from the earpiece.

‘I’m looking for …’

‘Ya better look somewhere else!’

‘ … Mara! Is she—’

‘Yer want her? Not me then?’ He seemed vaguely disappointed. ‘Graannnnn!! Phone! How should I know? Get stuffed you old bag!’

A minute passed, a TV blaring, dogs barking. ‘Hello?’

‘Is that you Mara?’

‘Hello? Who’s that?’ The old woman sounded unwelcoming. ‘Shut up, Marky!’

‘It’s Beth. From Goolgoorook.’

Mara took her mouth away from the receiver for a few moments, busy reprimanding the child who had answered the phone.

‘What’s the matter, girl?’

‘Things are going wrong, Mara. I thought I knew what was happening. I’m frightened.’

‘That old fella’s real bad news, girl. Why do you think my people got rid a’ him, eh? Pity you didn’t ask my advice earlier. You wouldn’ta gone nowhere near him.’

‘That’s a bit bloody hard when he’s camped right under our house!’ Beth shouted. ‘Help me. Without you, there’s no-one. I’m out here in a phone booth so he doesn’t hear me. So he can’t look into my mind and take what he wants.’

The ensuing silence was so long Beth thought the line had gone dead.

‘We can talk. That’s all, though. Just talk.’

‘Thank you. Can I meet you?’

‘Yes. Try to be calm. I’ll get you from your school, at one. Too late to worry about old Jack. But maybe it’s not too late to fix this thing.’

When Beth put down the phone, her knees were weak.

She’ll probably just tell me to run away, and that’s the one thing I can’t do.

62

Beth looked around the quadrangle, trying not to seem too wild and unsettled.

People darted this way and that, laughing, joking, talking about things from another world. Sam! She had to speak to him, but about what? What am I doing here? Why couldn’t Mara come at once?

Finally, Beth saw Jo and Sarah with a group of other students under a large elm. They look complete without me, she thought. She sidled off before they saw her, and frittered away time by sitting in a quiet corner of the quadrangle and reading more about dragons on her tablet. These legends don’t reveal hidden knowledge, she thought, they’re an admission of ignorance. The dragon is just a memory of a memory. Once our only rival for dominion over the earth, and now almost completely forgotten.

At a specially convened recess assembly, Principal Betts put in another award-winning performance. ‘The scourge … of racism … shall be … overcome!!’

‘Thinks he’s bleedin’ Martin Luther King,’ whispered Mr Singh loudly, to the amusement of nearby students and more than a few teachers.

‘Racism … has been eradicated … from this school …’ Betts let the words hang for a few moments, and looked grandly out over his captive audience, ‘ … thanks to innovative policies … and fast work by school administration.’

They applauded dutifully, and they were finally dismissed.

Beth trudged towards class, unable to focus on anything but the ground beneath her feet.

‘What a freak,’ said Jo, falling in beside her. ‘Are we supposed to respect him?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Beth.

‘It’s a power thing,’ said Jo. ‘Or an ego thing. I’m not sure which.’

‘Both, maybe?’ Beth decided at that moment to put her energies into pretending to be her ordinary self. The task seemed insurmountable, but wasn’t making an effort everything in life?

Jo inadvertently bumped into her, and Beth nearly collapsed, clutching her hip.

‘Sorry. Christ, Bee, what’s wrong?’

‘Sore leg. Nothing much. Came off my bike last night.’

Sam burst through a clump of students and stood between them.

‘Gotta see you, Beth!’ Sam was pale and breathless. His expression wasn’t the usual mixture of mania and sardonic amusement, but something far stranger. He looked frightened, almost anguished.

‘I tried to find you yesterday,’ he said, staring around. ‘To tell you something.’

‘No,’ said Beth. ‘I can’t just …’

‘Please … come …’

‘God, Sam.’ Beth tried to think herself into a state of clarity and calm, but it didn’t work. ‘I’ll be back in a sec, Jo.’

‘I’ve got to tell you something,’ Sam repeated.

Seeing her brother so serious and yet unsure of himself was a novelty. She glanced over at the gates. Still hours before Mara was supposed to arrive. Suddenly she noticed that Mr Flack was watching them intently from several metres away, his face unreadable.

‘It’s important, Beth,’ Sam said urgently, grabbing at her hand. ‘I’m not joking.’

‘Then tell me,’ she demanded, turning her back to Flack, in case he was somehow able to read lips. ‘What do you want?’

‘I can’t say anything here.’ He jerked his chin in the direction of Mr Flack.

‘Don’t bring him into it.’

‘Why not? He asked me to spy on you!’

Sam now had her complete attention. He tugged at her sleeve again. ‘Beth, he wanted me to look for things your room. Said I could have a voucher for computer stuff. Freak. There’s more, but I have to show you.’

The final bell for first period rang, and Flack walked off to his class with obvious reluctance, looking back over his shoulder until he rounded a corner. Eventually, Sam and Beth stood alone on the assembly area, Jo and Sarah lingering on the A Block verandah.

This is a day for being reckless. Act and damn the consequences.

‘All right. You win. Where are we heading?’ she asked, already knowing the answer.

‘Hemming Heights.’

‘OK. But wait — I have to tell the girls.’

She walked across to Sarah and Jo.

‘Sam needs me. I have to go.’

‘What is it? Is he in trouble? Do you want us to come, too?’ Jo asked.

‘And get you suspended?’

Sarah’s eyes were bright. ‘As if we care. Tell us!’

Jo put a restraining hand on Sarah’s shoulder.

‘Look, guys,’ said Beth. Stuff’s been happening at my house. It’s too freaky to put into words. First you wouldn’t believe me, then you’d think I was crazy, then I’d have to show you stuff you should never see …  look, it’s much better not to be anywhere near me for the rest of today.’

Jo and Sarah looked at her as if she had just sprouted a pair of antennae and was waving her gleaming mandibles in the air.

‘You what?’ Jo asked.

‘I have to sort out some stuff.’

‘And you want us to go to class?’

‘Yes,’ said Beth. ‘If you came with me, your lives could be in danger.’

‘Oh,’ said Sarah. ‘This doesn’t have anything to do with Len, does it?’

‘Not a thing,’ said Beth, relieved at being able to tell the truth for one moment.

‘You’re pretty weird sometimes,’ said Jo. ‘Whatever you’re doing, I would have thought it would be better to have some help doing it.’ She held up her hands. ‘But what would I know?’

‘Can you tell Speck I’m sick, please?’

‘If I do,’ said Jo, staring very hard at Beth, ‘you have to tell us everything. Start to finish. And if you’re doing something rash, and we could have helped, I’ll never forgive you.’

‘I’ll tell all,’ Beth agreed. ‘But only afterwards. And you’ll think I’m insane. And stupid.’

‘We have to go!’ hissed Sam, close behind Beth.

‘Later, guys’ said Beth.

Jo nodded curtly. ‘Go, then. Try to stay alive.’ She turned and walked away, Sarah a pace behind.

63

They moved fast, Sam running, stopping, then waiting for Beth to catch up. She half expected Flack to come running down the street with a two metre wide dog-catcher’s net, and drag them back to class. They said little, Sam full of purpose, Beth out of breath.

‘Slow down …’ she puffed.

‘Hurry.’

‘I’ve got a sore leg,’ she said, but he did not relent.

Sam led her to Cowan Court, a short cul-de-sac near their home.

‘There’s no way through here.’

‘We’re here already,’ said Sam. He pointed at the pavement, then at the roadway.

‘What? What am I looking at?’ Then she saw it. A maze-like pattern of cracks ran in a broad band from one side of the road to the other. A few metres on, the same thing, with wider gaps and more buckling. Beyond that, more cracks, and so on right up to the end of the court.

‘That wasn’t there a week ago.’ he said. ‘But it is now. And in most of the other streets in this area.’

Beth sat on the nature strip, trying to hide her shivering. ‘You dragged me up here to look at cracked bitumen?’

He gave her an odd, knowing glance. ‘There are patches like this all over the suburb.’

‘What about Flack?’ she persisted. ‘The bribe?’

‘I told you about that.’

‘What did he ask you to do?’

‘To tell him where you went, and make a list of the things in your room. And to bring him any diary that you might have.’

‘Did you?’

‘No. I didn’t. It was too weird.’

‘You could have told me this at school.’

‘I know. But Flack is only a bit of the story. It’s the cracks. It’s just—’ He broke off and stood up. Tapped his thighs and cracked his knuckles. ‘I know that you—’ He circled around. She’d never seen him like this. ‘Beth, will you listen to me?’ He glared at her.

‘I am,’ she protested. ‘I’m not saying a thing.’

‘I know what’s causing the cracks, and the tremors. And so do you.’ He pointed jerkily in the general direction of their house, of which only a portion of the roof was visible. Then he pointed downwards, into the earth beneath their feet. ‘Under the house,’ he hissed. ‘Under.’

If she hadn’t already been sitting, she would have fallen. ‘Sam—’ she breathed, trying to draw in air. Panic settled on her like a thick cloak. She knew he knew — had known since yesterday, she realised.

Cars trundled past, heedless.

’No, she said. ‘You can’t possibly know!’

‘I’ve been watching you, Beth. You’re not very good at keeping secrets. I really did read your diary. Put it right back where you had it hidden.’

‘But he only spoke to me,’ she said plaintively. I was the only special one.

Sam shook his head. ‘No. He talks to anyone who he thinks he can use. You changed. So did I, but I guess it wasn’t so obvious. I’m a much better liar than you. More practice.’

Beth had no rejoinder.

‘I saw your drawing in the dragon book,’ said Beth, ‘but I still didn’t …’

‘So that’s where I left it!’ Sam exclaimed. ‘I couldn’t find it anywhere. But it was just a guess.’

‘It’s right,’ said Beth. She breathed deeply. ‘This has been driving me mad, Sam. Knowing, and not saying anything.’ She began to search her bag. Pricking her finger on the tooth, she held the gleaming thing out to Sam.

He held out a hand, took it. ‘He gave you that? All I got were stories.’

‘I needed something real. Otherwise I wouldn’t have believed. So he gave me that. And two scales.’

‘It’s horrible,’ said Sam, handing the tooth back to her. ‘And awesome at the same time. Everything is like that with him.’

‘If we both know, what do we do about it?’

Sam shrugged. ‘I have something else to show you.’

They began to walk around the edge of Hemming Heights towards Goolgoorook, stopping to look up and talk. Beth kept shaking her head, unable to believe that she was sharing this experience. Something that had been so solitary and mad should have stayed in the shadows.

‘A few days ago,’ said Sam, ‘I was in heaven, taking orders from a hidden monster. It was my big adventure, creeping down at dawn, stealing meat, telling him about the world. Then I saw you with that dog food. And I knew.’

‘I must’ve gone through forty bags of it.’

‘He was running the two of us all over the place, getting exactly what he wanted. I was jealous. I wanted you to stay away. But there was nothing I could do.’

Beth grasped the tooth until it cut into her palm. ‘He gets in my head. That’s how he convinces people to help him.’ She coughed. ‘Do you think we should stop him?’

Sam looked at her sharply, then began to laugh. She reddened.

‘Can we stop the sun from rising?’ he asked, ‘I don’t think so. Beth, we’ve played our part. Once this has started, no one can stop it.’

‘There’s more to it than you know, Sam.’ Beth told him of her own dealings with Flack and the scales, and then about her meeting with Mara, finishing with the story of Woolgangie.

Sam stared at her. He laughed.

‘I can’t believe you know how he really got here. Tricked? Poisoned? Awesome!’

She blushed. ‘Mara will be in town soon, to meet me.’

Bark clattered down from gum trees, and the day grew ever hotter. They stopped walking and stood beneath a tree, glad for the shade.

‘The reason I feel so hopeless,’ Sam said, ‘doesn’t make much sense. Or maybe it does.’ Crouching, he reached for a twig. ‘Yesterday, when I was cycling back from Ken’s, I looked up at our place.’ He sketched a profile of their portion of Hemming Heights in the dirt. ‘Steep at the top, then it flattens out, rises a bit — then falls away towards Mannering Court.’

Beth tilted her head, felt a glimmering of recognition.

‘What does that line remind you of?’ I can’t see a thing. Sam poked at the diagram with his toe. ‘Head.’ The rise on which their house stood. ‘Body.’ Serpentine Drive. ‘Tail.’ Lower Hemming Heights. ‘That’s over two hundred metres.’

Beth’s flesh prickled.

Sam scuffed over the drawing. ‘I know. Stupid.’

A low grumble came up through their soles, and the earth shook, first gently, then with some violence. They both looked up at Hemming Heights. Telephone poles were swaying and windows shattering. A geyser of water erupted from a drain, and poured off down the street. All around them alarms sounded, car and house. With a wet slapping sound, great swathes of roadway began to crack.

‘It’s started early,’ Sam said, crawling over to her. His face had lost all colour.

‘He’s coming out?’

‘Surely not in daylight. He’s afraid of being seen. But soon. Maybe tonight.’

The larger tremors gradually died away, replaced by a low bass vibration.

‘It’s us,’ said Beth with morbid certainty. ‘We’re a threat, now. He knows I’ve been to visit Mara. He doesn’t want us to go back to the house.’

She held out the tooth in the flat of her hand. ‘Can you smell it? Somehow he can sense us through these parts of himself. But perhaps the effect fades.’ She swallowed on a dry throat.

A fine cloud of reddish dust rose from the heights, fanning into the sky as a vast, obscuring veil. Cars began to hurtle down Dairy Road, horns beeping and glancing back at their damaged homes.

‘Christ, Sam. What about Freddy?’

‘Outside. Don’t worry. Let him out before I went to school. He’ll run away.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘He’s road-smart,’ said Sam defensively. ‘Better than being up there at the moment.’

A police car slammed past, wheels thumping hard on new bumps and ridges, skidded to a halt at the entrance to Serpentine Drive, and disgorged three officers. One of their number began to stop people attempting to drive into Hemming Heights, and the other two waved fire engines through.

‘Let’s go before they see us,’ Sam said.

Beth followed Sam haltingly, grimacing. ‘They’re only setting up a roadblock. Slow down!’

‘I can’t help it. If we don’t hurry … I don’t know …’

‘We have to find Mara,’ Beth said with sudden certainty. ‘That’s our only chance.’

Sam thought for a few heartbeats, then nodded.

They worked their way along one badly damaged street, took a pathway through into another, crossed their own avenue then turned back towards the town. Here the bitumen was broken into tiny fragments as if it had been chewed up and sprayed out.

A sizzling noise split the air like a whip crack, and Beth turned to see a high tension powerline snap and fall to the ground opposite the Saraband River chicken farm. Blue gouts of current sparked into the air, then circuit breakers cut in and the flashes of light ceased. More work for Nick. Serpentine Drive and North West Arterial traffic lights winked out. Several houses seemed to be on fire, fingers of smoke poking up towards the sky.

‘Holy hell,’ said Sam.

Beth’s hip was sore now, and only bloody determination kept her from sitting down and resting it. Sam finally slowed and walked beside her.

‘S’all right, Bethy. We’ll make it.’

‘God, Sam. It’s half past twelve already. What if Mara leaves? What if we don’t make it back in time?’

‘She’s not even here yet.’

64

They turned towards the school, trotting past the war memorial. Simpson and his donkey were now tilted, staring straight up at the dust-reddened sun. A First World War artillery piece had rolled off its pedestal and into a tree. In the middle distance, Goolgoorook itself seemed undamaged — for the moment, just far enough away from Hemming Heights.

Beth could see small knots of people, all of them with eyes and hands oriented in the direction of Hemming Heights.

‘It’s ten to one,’ Beth shouted at Sam, indicating Captain Chicken’s temperature n’ time readout, ‘Come on!’

They lurched on, Sam frantically trying to assist her. About a hundred metres short of the school, he abruptly turned and pushed her off the footpath into a shrub. Caught off-balance, she hit at him but fell anyway, woody fingers scratching her skin and catching at her clothes.

‘What is it?’ They were screened from the school by the shrub and a row of paperbark trees.

‘Flack’s at the entrance,’ he said, ‘and he’s looking for us.’ They fought their way through the undergrowth and after emerging, tried to peer through the foliage. Beth could see Flack, scanning the street. Beyond him, teachers were herding children indoors, though most wanted to stay and watch.

‘Why did I agree to meet Mara here?’ Beth said. ‘Stupid. I never think things through.’

Sam brushed away chips of bark and shook his head.

‘The dragon makes us stupid,’ he said.

‘We’ve got no plan,’ she said. How many times did you speak to him, you little … 

Beth pinched her own arm hard. She drew closer to her brother, and gripped his shoulder.

‘I don’t want a plan, Sam. If we have a plan, I’ll have to think, and I don’t want to do that. We have to do what we feel will work.’

‘Oh? Whatever you say. That her?’ asked Sam, pointing at a distant vehicle.

Beth blinked a few times. ‘Umm … I’m not sure … . Yes! It’s Mara!’ she cried, ready to jump up, feeling a twinge from her hip.

‘Stay down, Beth!’

‘But we have to let her know we’re here!’

Mara came to a halt opposite the school. Flack recognised her and began to cross the street. As his left foot hit the bitumen, a crimson line of fire engines turned out of Newbegin Road, flicked their sirens on and headed towards Dairy Road.

Recognising opportunity, Beth grabbed Sam’s collar and heaved him up.

‘Move,’ she screamed, ‘Quick, this is it!’

The din was terrible. Shopkeepers and shoppers alike came out into the street, faces caught between wonder and alarm. Flack’s face flickered and contorted, peering between the trucks as they passed.

Mara looked up and saw Sam and Beth sprinting towards her. The last truck honked and was gone. Realising what was happening, Flack shouted and plunged onto the road.

‘Beth! I want to see you now …’

‘Mara, go! Go now …  He’s crazy!’

Impassive, Mara merely raised an eyebrow. Sam and Beth scrambled and fell onto the tray, and the Toyota began to accelerate. A large hand gripped the tailgate and Beth cringed, pushing herself against the cab. Flack’s face was red and shone with perspiration.

‘Get back to class!’ He tried to pull himself up, but years of long lunches and short walks proved his undoing.

‘We can’t, sir’ said Sam, slipping on an oil-soaked rope coiled at his feet.

‘Let me know, then!’ Flack hissed, then lost his grip on the vehicle.

He almost fell, but recovered himself, staring after them.

Beth leaned over the driver’s side window.

‘Mara! Turn down Fivepence. Flack might come after us!’

65

Wind thrashed their hair. Over the Bul Bul Plains, a thunderstorm was sliding in from the sea and darkening the sky.

‘This is crazy,’ Sam screamed, ‘We should keep driving.’ He gripped the side of the Toyota’s tray.

Beth knew then that the earthquake had terrified him more than he would ever admit. Here was the dragon’s power made manifest, an undeniable physical statement.

Mara drove along Fivepence Lane for another two or three kilometres, then skidded sideways into a farm access road. She turned the engine off, then stepped out and stared at them. She bent to pick up a handful of dust, then scattered it to the winds.

‘One of ya was bad enough, but now there’s two. Bloody hell. He’s only a little kid.’

‘Not that little,’ Sam protested.

‘Sam knows all about it. He’s my brother, Mara.’

‘Oh?’ she said, slapping the tray and making Sam jump. ‘I’d never have guessed.’

Behind them, black plumes, the dusty sky and the wail of sirens. Beth felt a stab of guilt that such devastation was being wrought with her connivance. ‘We need to stop this,’ she pleaded.

‘Ah well,’ said Mara. ‘Maybe some things can’t be stopped. And some can.’

A vehicle burned past on Fivepence Lane, barely under control, spitting gravel and revving loudly. Beth though it might have been Flack’s wreck of a car, but she wasn’t sure.

‘That it?’ Mara enquired. ‘Cos we gotta get going.’

Sam and Beth both nodded. Their reluctant rescuer sighed ponderously, leaning against the Toyota. She was wearing more casual attire today — a loud red checked shirt, and blue jeans hacked off just below the knee. Her feet were bare, hardened by long days of bush food collecting. Her polished brass belt buckle sported a large bucking rodeo horse.

‘My people are finished with this thing,’ Mara said. ‘Long ago. We made our mistake and learned.’

‘But it’s your fault!’ Beth said in a rush. ‘He doesn’t hurt people! If Woolgangie hadn’t tricked him, he’d be gone long ago! Now he feels trapped, surrounded by hostile people.’

Mara slapped the tray with a large hand, and Beth jumped.

‘Look, girl. You allowed yourself to be deceived. You don’t know what he’s like or what he wants. Or even if he is a male at all.’

Their argument was interrupted by a sound like a rifle shot. The earth jumped once, rattling the Toyota. Birds shrieked.

‘What was that?’ Sam asked, head swivelling back and forth.

‘You’re safe here,’ said Mara, without much conviction, ‘and I gotta go home. The elders have called a meeting. You just walk into town, get help. Stay away from your home.’

‘We can’t walk away!’ Beth yelled, losing all self-control. ‘We just can’t!’

A car blurred past in the other direction. Flack again?

‘Go then!’ said Beth, seeking a knife to twist. ‘Jump to Jack Netcher’s tune!’

Mara’s face set hard, and she turned to climb into the Toyota.

‘You know what we want, Mara. The only reason I asked you to come.’

Mara stopped, face impassive. ‘A miracle?’

‘It is the only way we can stop this happening.’

‘Don’t be smart, girl. The only way to stop something like this is not to start it.’

Sam hollowed his cheeks, looked pensive. ‘Will someone explain this cryptic crap to me?’

‘Mara is the plant lady!’ Beth said in a rush. ‘She does the medicine. Just like Norna. Things get handed down, from mother to daughter. You have Norna’s secrets — don’t you?’

Mara looked away. ‘You don’t trample over me, girl.’

‘Save lives, Mara,’ Beth hectored, unable to stop herself. ‘Help me! Do as Norna did. Stop this before it goes completely crazy.’

‘I must respect my ancestors,’ Mara said. ‘I’ve taken enough forbidden knowledge already.’

‘People might die, Mara. Show us where to look and what to do,’ Beth hissed, ‘We won’t ever tell anyone.’

Mara fiddled with her belt buckle then twisted strands of her hair between her fingers. ‘There’s only one place,’ she finally said, after a long hesitation. ‘Once I’ve showed you, forget where it is. And never tell anyone else. If you can’t promise that, forget it.’

Beth swore oaths until Mara seemed mollified.

Beth and Sam climbed back into the tray of the Toyota, then settled down among greasy tools. Sam remained silent, lips moving occasionally as if to follow some confused thought.

He’s lost faith in words, or himself. I know exactly what he’s feeling.

66

After turning left from Fivepence Lane onto Dairy Road, Mara and her passengers rolled through the tiny hamlet of East Goolgoorook (a town hall, pub, war memorial and an antique shop). Two more fire engines barrelled past towards Hemming Heights.

The Toyota noisily climbed up to Malcolm Pass, a low saddle in the range that separated Goolgoorook and its hilly surrounds from the narrow coastal plains. Looking west towards Goolgoorook, Beth now counted twelve plumes of smoke.

A blue line in the distance was the ocean, bordered by white beaches and ti-tree scrub. Two large, eucalypt covered granite domes rose from farmland. Malleson’s Peaks.

Mara ploughed along a confusing network of bumpy little roads, gradually trending closer to the larger of the two domes. Finally the Toyota slowed, deep in shadow beneath a stand of ironwood trees. Beth alighted. She helped Sam down — something he would never have allowed her to do in normal circumstances.

‘This way,’ Mara said. ‘No stuffing around.’

Mara powered her way across rocky scree to the base of the dome.

‘Wait,’ whispered Sam, looking up apprehensively, chewing at his fingernails. ‘I’ll stay.’

‘No,’ said Beth decisively. ‘I’ll carry you. I’m not leaving you alone.’

Sam’s sense of pride abruptly rekindled, and he pushed away her hand.

‘I’ll be alright.’

‘Norna-gul, we call this hill,’ said Mara. ‘The spirit-home of Norna.’

The first few metres of the trail wound through heavy ti-tree scrub, which soon gave way to a confusing maze of enormous granite boulders. Mara led through the apparent chaos with assurance, turning this way and then another, and soon they were gaining altitude. Suddenly they emerged at the edge of a cliff.

‘No more clumsy feet,’ Mara said sternly. ‘Careful with each step and you’ll go well.’

Inching around a ledge towards a rock overhang, Beth was determined not to look down. Following close behind, Sam flattened himself against the stone. Eventually the ledge widened and they walked into a smooth sandy floored space with a stone roof eroded into a complex honeycomb of ridges and voids.

The far end of the cave was covered with white areas of … something.

A powerful ammonia stench filled the space.

‘What’s that gunk?’ Sam asked.

‘Gunk?’ Mara laughed. ‘Close. Some call it guano. And we gotta get up close and personal.’

Beth looked up, and the stone ceiling quivered, rippled, and shook. Abruptly, a patch of the roof fell, opened many pairs of felty wings, shrieked and flew roofward once more. ‘Bats!’ Sam said, showing signs of animation. ‘Their forefinger runs along the whole wing. The wing is a membrane of skin.’

‘It certainly ain’t feathers,’ Mara agreed.

In seconds the air above them was thick with noise and movement. Mara signalled Beth back, and gradually things settled down again.

’Upset ’em. Not used to people. Harmless, though. They usually live in trees, but this cave is good. Whitefellas chopped down the big trees, eh?’

Mara crept over to the bat guano. She began to dig into the reeking white mound, coughing quietly at the dust and acrid smells.

Beth spent her time looking up. The bats were large and rather handsome, their pointy muzzles reminding her of Jack Russell terriers. Patches of golden fur contrasted with the black of their wings. Beth noticed they were watching the humans below, and chattering softly. ‘Look, the humans are digging up our crap.’ ‘Haven’t they enough of their own?’ ‘Revolting, parasitic creatures, wouldn’t you agree?’

Mara whistled with satisfaction. Using a sturdy branch she had broken from a tree on the walk in, she had excavated a grey, fan-shaped object the size of a softball. She wrapped it in a piece of cloth, and immediately started back to the Toyota.

‘What was that thing?’ Sam asked, struggling to keep up in Mara’s wake. He had grown oddly listless. Beth wondered if the dragon was somehow responsible for the way Sam was behaving.

‘A fungus, I think,’ Beth said, ‘living amongst all that bat crap.’

They soon reached the Toyota. Mara rummaged under a tarpaulin and dragged out a grinding stone and bowl. She lowered the tailgate, covered it with two hessian sacks and used it for a table. ‘Beth, girl, come help me.’ Mara brought forth the weird grey fungus she had excavated from the guano and placed it on the table.

‘Flatten the bugger,’ Mara ordered. ‘But don’t lose a single bit. We need it all.’

Pounding and scraping the fungus to pulp, Beth saw a thin clear fluid collecting at the base of the bowl.

‘Don’t spill that, girl — it’s what we want! And don’t lick your fingers or rub your eyes! Bad news if you do!’

Sam wandered around, following Mara’s directions, collecting fern fronds and grass, sluggishly matting them together into a large ball.

Mara slowly poured the liquid over the ferns. The juice of the fungus smelled of crushed ants. Formic acid, Beth remembered.

‘He’ll smell this,’ Beth said, ‘it’s dreadful. He won’t let me anywhere near him.’

Mara silenced her with a frown, unscrewed a jar of strongly perfumed reddish fluid and poured it liberally over the fern ball. ‘Honey. Everyone likes sugar.’

Then she wove more ferns over the honey and wiped her hands on one of the hessian bags. ‘It’s a pill, don’t you see. Takes care of your headache.’

‘Hurry up,’ Sam urged, looking out to the road along which they had driven. ‘I heard something!’

‘Don’t be such a doofus,’ Beth said. ‘Flack was on his way to Jugamai. He’s got no idea where we are.’

Mara slid the fern ball into a plastic bag. A distant noise brought their heads up.

‘A car?’ Mara guessed.

‘It’s Flack!’ screamed Sam. ‘I know it is. The sound.’

‘You’re panicking,’ said Mara. ‘How would he know where we are?’

‘Mara, Sam’s usually right about that kind of stuff,’ Beth said.

‘Then we go,’ said Mara. Moving quickly, she flung her gear onto the Toyota and slammed the tailgate. ‘Get in!’ she screamed and Sam and Beth climbed aboard just as Mara brought the vehicle to life and caromed off down the road. Springs bounced and branches slashed at them.

Sam grimaced. He shouted to be heard. ‘I saw him when we were coming down from Malcolm Pass. I think he saw us turn off the main road.’

‘And you didn’t say anything?’ Beth was incredulous. ‘How come you suddenly got worried?’

‘He hadn’t seen us when I saw him first off. But then I started thinking. He really wants to find us. He’ll try every side road, one by one.’

She almost kicked him, but remembered how tired he was.

Mara hit an unmarked intersection and turned to the west. Moments later Flack’s car flew through the same crossroads, heading south. A second later he skidded, then sprayed gravel in a frantic turn.

Beth slapped the roof of the Toyota’s cab. ‘Go! He’s right behind us!’

And right behind them he was, hunched over his steering wheel to get a better look at them, slipping in and out of visibility in the cloud of dust streaming out behind the Toyota.

67

Flack’s maniacal determination terrified Beth. The dragon’s suspicion of humans was well founded, she thought. Either they hunger for him, or long to destroy.

Flack stayed close no matter how Mara jinked and skidded around corners or tried to outrun him. They were almost out of the forest. The track swooped through steep little gullies like a fun park ride. Pursuer and pursued, they flew through more corners, more intersections, until Beth was no longer sure if they were heading inland or coastward.

Although Flack’s car would have easily outpaced the Toyota on a surfaced road, in the rough it struggled, the chassis striking rocks and bottoming out.

‘Mara’s going north!’ Sam yelled. ‘I’m sure!’ Towards Ooralloo National Park.

Metal struck metal, Mara slewed for a few sickening seconds, then regained control. Flack shouted in triumph, head poking out the side window. He yelled something, then snatched his head back in as the vehicles bumped across a dry creek bed. After that, he fell back a few hundred metres. A series of sharp turns allowed him to creep up again. Fortunately, high embankments on either side temporarily prevented him from passing, and he hammered his dashboard in frustration. Beth smiled.

Mara braked abruptly, drifting towards the left gutter, reducing forward progress to a crawl. Flack’s face lost its intensity, rearranging into a broad smile.

‘What’s she doing?’ Sam asked, agonised, drumming his hands on the side of the tray. ‘Why so slow?’

The light in this gully was dim, tree ferns and giant gums crowding out the sun. The air was noticeably cooler. Looking sideways over the tray, Beth blanched.

‘We’re on some sort of bridge,’ she said loudly, ‘I think.’

The ‘bridge’ was a brace of long, half-rotten logs held together in the middle by a heavily rusted steel cable. In places large portions of the logs had fallen away, leaving holes easily large enough to trap a wheel. Below ran a fast-flowing stream. Timber warped and sagged as the vehicle lurched forward, wheels slipping, biting, slipping again. Sam was flung to the right and vaulted half out. Beth shouted out and grabbed for his hand. A sharp jolt brought her jaws together hard, and her teeth bit into her tongue. She cried out at the pain.

‘Beth! What’s wrong?’

’Jub my ’ongue. Bib ib off, almobt. Sabing you, you bugger.’

She could taste blood in her mouth, and she spat it into the river in a red arc.

Mara reached the other end of the bridge, clashed a few gears and accelerated wildly.

Flack was in the process of turning, having obviously recognised that the bridge was impossible for a two-wheel drive car to cross.

‘Are you alright?’ Sam asked.

‘Ibt’s still on,’ Beth mumbled. She poked her tongue out for him to inspect.

‘Cuts,’ said Sam. ‘I don’t think they’re real bad. Can you put stitches in someone’s tongue?’

‘How long hab we been gone?’ Beth asked.

‘About an hour and a half. Maybe two.’

Beth slumped back, tasting more blood in her mouth. The trip to the forest seemed like it had taken an entire day. Now the only thing keeping her on the move was her desire to get back to Hemming Heights and to save the house. And to save everyone, a quiet voice announced.

Finally, they turned on to the Ooralloo to Goolgoorook Road, following it until it once more became Fivepence Lane. Lying down in the greasy and leaf-strewn tray and staring up at the sky, Beth hoped Jo and Sarah were safe, their adventure for the day restricted to staring up at the chaos sweeping through Hemming Heights. She half sat, suddenly alarmed.

‘Oh, shit. G’abon! I forgot! In all the rush.’ Her tongue did not want to touch the roof of her mouth at all. ‘He’b comib over! To the house.’

‘Who? Did you say Graydon?’

‘Yeb. Bragon’s frighted ob him.’

She tried desperately to speak clearly.

’He … wants to measure the gases in be basement. ’ragon will kill ’im if he does that. We’ve got to get there before he does!’

‘But the police won’t let him in.’

Beth snorted. She knew that nothing would be allowed to come between Graydon and the cellar.

68

Once more, Hemming Heights came into view. Deep blue-grey thunderclouds formed a cap over the plumes of smoke that poured from dozens of houses. She remembered reading somewhere that fires could bring rain. Beth saw a helicopter spin overhead, television station logo prominent. TV interest in Goolgoorook — that made this a genuine disaster, she realised. If it bleeds, it leads.

Mara slowed, leaned out and yelled. ‘Get under the tarpaulin now!’

Unfolding a grimy canvas tarp, Beth slid under, helping Sam do the same. They lay in dirt and greenish darkness between two large toolboxes. Beth prayed that no part of her foot or head was visible.

‘I can’t breathe,’ Sam said, voice muffled by their heavy shroud.

A moment later the Toyota came to a sudden halt. Feet crunched past, and stopped at the driver’s window.

‘Oh, g’day Mara. Fancy meeting you down here. Strange weather, eh?’

Mara laughed, but her tone was forced. ‘Hey, Frank. Not just weather, eh? Shit hit the fan down here, eh?’

‘Yep. Hitting, I’m afraid. At great velocity. Christ knows what’s really going on.’ ‘Look, Mara, you’re going to have to turn here and go back. We’ve sealed off the town. Too bloody dangerous.’

‘But I don’t have enough fuel to get home,’ Mara protested. ‘Just let me go to the fuel depot first.’

’Oh, I dunno about that. Let me check. A radio crackled. ‘Mate, I’ve got Mara here. From up at Ooralloo. Dunno … low on fuel. Wants to come through. Ta, mate. Over.’

‘OK. Off you go. Through to the fuel depot on the old Western Highway. Then come back here fast as you can.’

Instead, Mara pulled off the road less than two minutes later. She let down the back of the tray with a clatter of steel. Beth and Sam climbed out gingerly, brushing at their filthy clothes and taking gulps of clean air.

‘This is it, kids,’ Mara said. ‘You’re almost home.’ She handed Beth the plastic bag containing the ball of fungus, ferns and honey. It was unexpectedly heavy.

‘Come with us!’ Sam pleaded.

Mara shook her head. ‘This is going to sound mean, but it’s really your problem, now.’

Beth stared straight at Mara.

‘Look, girl,’ said Mara. ‘Do you think that old beast’s going to want me near him? He’ll sense me from a mile away. If he’s frightened of other people, how do you think he’d go with a Koori?’

She’s right. The dragon would fear the Gugamai. More than anyone else.

‘Your brother can stay with me, if you like. I’ll look after him.’

‘No,’ Sam said instantly. ‘I’m going with Beth.’ His face was a uniform white; even his lips were pale.

Mara nodded. ‘You’re gutsy enough. Be bloody careful, eh? Don’t take any more risks than you have to. When this is finished, we’ll make you honorary Gugamai.’

She hopped into the cabin, swung the vehicle across the road and accelerated towards her home.

69

Downdrafts from the coming storm pushed smoke everywhere.

A fat raindrop hit her forehead. Others splashed into the dust as Sam and Beth began to climb the hill towards Hemming Heights. The suburb was coming apart in slow motion.

‘If we don’t do this soon,’ Beth shouted, ‘there will be nothing left to save.’

Except for the howl of emergency vehicles, the hill seemed lifeless. Beth vowed to at least rescue Horatio, if his tank was intact. She hefted the bag over one shoulder, then after a minute or so, shifted it to the other shoulder.

As they picked their way along Logos Circle, marvelling at tilted slabs of bitumen and downed telephone lines, an exodus of fire engines began. Dozens of red trucks and CFA water tankers filed back down Serpentine Drive, and out past the roadblock. Beth huddled behind a parked car, afraid someone might see and ‘rescue’ them.

‘Too dangerous,’ Sam said in a subdued voice. ‘Even the firemen can’t stay any more.’

The ground trembled and wobbled. Day was halfway to night, clouds so dark that streetlights flickered on.

Someone reconnected the power, Beth noted. Go, Dad.

‘Xavier’s place!’ Sam looked dumbstruck as they rounded a corner and stared straight at a glowing ruin, the only remnants a pair of white pillars topped with cement lions stained with smoke. Sam took a step forward, as if to look for his friend.

‘He’ll be at school,’ Beth said. ‘Anyway. The fireys wouldn’t go unless they have everyone.’

Occasionally she spat a streak of blood onto the footpath, but her tongue was beginning to feel like an instrument of speech again.

A few metres on, a telephone pole had crushed a car like an empty soft drink can. They looked away, both unwilling to check for occupants. Get to the house. Give him the medicine. Wonder why I let this happen. Why I was so weak …  The one thing she had done right was not to involve her friends. My selfishness kept them safe. I didn’t want to share the dragon with anyone.

‘He made us do it, Beth,’ said Sam, evidently guessing her thoughts, ‘we had no choice.’

‘He didn’t make me do anything,’ she said slowly. ‘I did what I wanted, and damn anyone else.’

‘Then I did the same,’ declared Sam.

70

The signpost for Serpentine Drive dipped over and kissed the road with a metallic clink, its concrete base having vibrated free of the soil. More rain fell, and steamy wisps of vapour rose from lawns. Beth smelled smoke and dirt and concrete dust.

A late model, dark blue car sat in the driveway of 17 Serpentine Drive.

‘Graydon,’ Beth said. She had known he would show up.

She pointed to his parking permits: CSIRO Researcher — 2003/4. A smaller sticker invited the world to Rock your world with a Geologist.

‘Maybe our street will be the last to go,’ said Beth.

Beth’s head was abruptly invaded by dragonscent. No doubt seeping into her brain, seeking to commandeer her will.

The front door of the house was ajar.

‘Kids,’ said Graydon, peering out and causing Beth to come within an ace of wetting herself. ‘I didn’t expect anyone. You probably shouldn’t be here. Can you come in and help me?’

‘Hell, why not,’ said Beth. Graydon no longer scared her. ‘Our house, ain’t it?’

Sam muttered something, but he followed her in.

Inside, the house was sweltering. A deep, itchy flush crept down Beth’s arms, and the swollen cuts on her tongue stung.

‘How did you get up here?’ Graydon asked. His sweaty face was flecked with dirt.

‘Shank’s pony. What about you?’

Graydon pointed. ‘Drove in before the road blocks. I knew something would happen today.’’

The doctor looked much less arrogant than usual, and very tired. He was wearing a stained yellow T-shirt.

‘You’ve got blood on your face,’ said Graydon.

‘It’s just a flesh wound.’

‘Huh. I’ve been trying to get into your cellar. No luck at all. Smell that vapour!’

‘We’re in great danger, Dr Graydon,’ said Beth with sudden urgency. ‘More than you know. You should leave.’

‘No!’ he said urgently. ‘That would be foolish indeed. I’ve still got time.’

‘No, you don’t,’ she said. His gaze slid away, unwilling to be confronted. He hesitated for a second, then shrugged, and turned back to the cellar door. ‘You look after yourselves then. I will go on, like Pliny the Elder,’ he said.

‘The elder who?’ Sam asked.

‘No idea,’ said Beth. She looked at Graydon’s back as he struggled with the cellar door. She wondered if anyone was looking for herself or Sam yet. Flack wouldn’t have reported them as absent.

‘Where’s the key for this damn door?’ he asked, turning his head to glare at them.

’On Dad’s keyring, said Beth. Her hand flew to her mouth. ‘God! The fish, Sam. I forgot about him.’

Sam ran through the lounge to check Horatio’s tank. He returned a moment later with welcome news. ‘He’s still alive!’

Graydon began jemmying the cellar door again. ‘Lock … looks new … but it’s seized up. Melted, almost.’ He fell back.

Quietly, Beth led Sam back towards Horatio’s tank. On a scrap of paper by the phone she scrawled a note: D is listening — don’t say anything important. We have to stop Graydon before he gets into the cellar.

Sam nodded, and added his own note, penned in a jittery and barely readable scrawl: D can’t make Graydon leave, however much he tries. He wants to stay too much.

Behind them, Graydon growled, and began thumping at the door. Rushing back, they found he had emptied a terracotta plant pot and was about to bring it crashing down on the door handle. Beth spoke without forethought. ‘Dr Graydon! This is our house!’

To her surprise, he stopped.

‘The chance of a lifetime,’ he said unhappily. ‘A volcanic eruption in an area that’s never shown any sign of activity. And I’m the only one on the ground.’

He returned the pot to the floor, shaking his head. ‘Measurements. A good scientist must measure … and record. Measure, record and hypothesise …’ With that, he went out to his car.

A moment later Graydon strode through again. He piled his equipment on the floor of the lounge. Then he began waving a probe at the ceiling, and along the floor. Exclamations and curses punctuated his work. He climbed the stairs, and could be heard chattering above their heads. ‘Potential for ash flows … no evidence as yet … correlate … compare …’

Sam’s foot came down hard on one of Graydon’s black carry cases, and then another, and he began jumping on delicate instrumentation.

‘Stop!’ Beth hissed.

‘If he doesn’t have any tools,’ Sam retorted, ‘he can’t do a thing.’ Small-handed and dexterous, he swiftly removed several batteries, rolling them beneath a lounge chair.

‘That’s enough, Sam.’ The house rocked and swayed as if at sea, and they retreated to the lounge. Horatio did not want to leave his home, either. He outraced Beth’s hands and hit the far end of the tank hard.

‘Bloody thick-headed idiot. I’m trying to save you!’ The groggy fish only submitted when cornered by a spaghetti strainer. Working together, they flipped him his smaller companion into a large water-filled bucket and tied an empty onion sack over the top to prevent them from making any ill-advised leaps.

‘They won’t last long,’ said Sam gloomily. ‘We’ll have to hurry.’

Working with sign language, they decided to deposit the fish outside and go back inside. Leaving the bucket hanging from a tree, Beth turned to survey the scene from the front door. Orange beams of light streamed through beneath the thunderclouds — the sun making a final rush towards the horizon. Beth saw every house in the street, water gleaming hard and bright on roof tiles. Lightning divided the sky into jagged fragments. Thunderclaps ran together, drumming so hard the air and ground shook in tune.

Tears crossed her face. I love this house. How can we lose it all? A shiver went through her. He was always here — even when we were tiny children — like a bomb on a very long timer. This was always going to happen.

They went back inside. During a brief lull between thunderclaps, the telephone rang. ‘Answer it,’ Beth commanded, but Sam shook his head.

‘It might be Mum,’ Beth said. ‘You answer it.’ No, don’t. Don’t touch it.

‘I don’t want to,’ Sam said.

‘Right now,’ Beth predicted, ‘Mum and Dad are losing it. They rush back when they hear about the fires and the quakes, but they’re not allowed up here. And we’re gone from school. All the other kids are safe, and we’re gone!!’

‘If I answer,’ Sam said, ‘I won’t be able to help you anymore.’

Beth clenched her hands, and eventually the phone stopped ringing.

Don’t say anything more! she mouthed. Let’s go and talk to D.

Just as they went into the corridor, Graydon discovered his ruined gear and groaned in disbelief.

‘I’m a fool,’ he sobbed, as the telephone began to shrill again. ‘So badly prepared. Can’t give up now …’ He ran past them and out the front door. They heard his car start and move off.

Beth shook her head. Sam had done exactly what was necessary to get rid of Graydon, for a little while, at least.

If he parks on Circular Ave, Beth printed, it’s only a short walk across a paddock to his labs. He doesn’t have to go through the roadblocks. He’ll be back — soon.

71

Picking up Mara’s bag of fungus and grass, Beth stumbled towards what was probably certain incineration. She could only continue moving forward if she treated the whole thing as a fever dream. Sam followed.

Wanna go home … oh. Stay with me, Sam — I can’t do this alone.

The cellar door opened without fuss this time, releasing a billow of hot, horribly dry air.

The house stopped shaking, the storm outside seeming to halt for their descent. In its place, a thumping, pulsing noise. Something stung Beth’s cheek. She plucked at her face and saw a black smudge across her fingers. Sam did the same, wincing. Small red lights swarmed randomly through the dark air like stars. Several settled on her shirt, and she smelled burning fabric. Cinders.

‘Firebreath,’ said the dragon, making them jump, ‘My belly — my guts — one of the things that marks us off from your kind — has awoken with the rest of me. I am full of fire now — it seeps from my very pores.’ The rough low tones of his voice seemed to form out of the air itself, coming from all directions.

‘You’re destroying our town,’ Beth whispered. ‘Our lives.’

‘And it is your kind who have destroyed my kind. Symmetry.’ Embers flared and circled in sudden silence, then he spoke again. ‘I must live, no? A natural imperative. The blood wants to live. Isn’t that a part of evolution, Beth? The urge to survive?’

‘Something like that,’ Beth muttered. She was beginning to forget why she was down in the cellar. Some kind of mission, but what?

Thud … thud … thud — the thumping noise grew ever deeper. Red lights multiplied, until there were millions of tiny embers.

‘Why did you come back?’ the dragon asked. ‘I warned you, but here you are … ’

More lights flowed from the gap in the wall, pooling near the floor.

‘We thought you’d kill Graydon.’

‘You have saved him, by making him leave. He should thank you. Leave now, and save yourselves. I am to be born once more.’

‘You can’t just use us! We helped you! And you’ve lied about everything.’ Beth shouted.

‘So be careful. Sometimes a thing can turn out to have a life of its own.’

‘But you tricked us!’

‘Bad luck and deceit put me under your house, Beth. Deceit gets me back out. Once more there is a symmetry.’

Thump … thump … thump — the noise was oceanic.

Sam hugged her awkwardly, leaning close. ‘That’s his heart!’ he hissed. The rhythm slowed, and the dragon spoke again.

‘Be honest, child. Has your existence ever been as vivid?’

Beth slumped, on the verge of agreeing with him, and reverting to obedience. ‘We … can’t thank you for that. Not if people’s lives are being destroyed.’

‘Let the sin rest on me. It is I who acts, not you. Actor and acted upon. A rock cannot feel guilty if used as a weapon, and nor should you.’

‘When you’re gone,’ she managed, ‘we’ll have nothing. No home.’

‘Build again,’ said the dragon. ‘Is it not a human project to build ceaselessly? To turn this planet inside out? I am sorry. But unless you leave now, you will be nothing.’

The smell that poured through her was the earth itself, and life as well, and it was a sensation of infinite grace. Beth sighed and sank to her knees. She’d come down here to carry out a task, but couldn’t quite remember its nature. Answers darted out of reach. She felt a blankness rising.

Sam released her from his embrace. He tried to snatch something from her hand. ‘Don’t do that …’ but he succeeded and wrenched a plastic bag away from her.

‘’S mine. Give it back.’

But Sam was much too quick, swinging the bag over his head. ‘No. It’s his!’ he screamed, rushing at the hole, now many feet across and widening by the second. The space seemed to broaden, ready to swallow her brother. His small body was surrounded by a galaxy of tiny sparks.

‘Get back!’ she screamed. Like a javelin thrower, Sam skidded to a halt, flinging the bag away into the dark, smoking chasm. Teetering, he flailed his arms wildly. Beth suddenly found her legs and jumped towards him. The feeling of lassitude and inactivity vanished like a popped soap bubble. Mara’s medicine! He’s thrown the medicine!

Torrents of air rushed past them into the hole

‘Fall down!’ Sam hollered, arcing back into life. He pushed into her and she collapsed with him. Hurricanes of flame burst over their heads into the cellar, searing her lips and hair and sucking air from her lungs.

Gasping, Beth blindly crawled towards the stairs, pushing Sam ahead. The cellar’s timber roof caught fire. A brick shattered and sprayed hot shards down the stairs. The pain in her hip had returned. We were so very stupid!

‘What have you done?’ she thought she heard the dragon roar. Flames and soot flew back into the hole. Beth stood, bellowing. She snatched up Sam, crashing up the stairs and throwing him into the hallway. The door flew back and knocked her into the frame — but she was out of the cellar. Air rushing into the cellar abruptly stilled, and she could hear the roof crackling away, flames eating up into the house. Without a word, she bumped her brother across the living room, picking him up when he fell. She was breathing in short sharp pants, and her lungs were sore.

Throwing Sam out onto the lawn and shouting for him to grab Horatio, she paused for one last glance back from the front door; it almost ended her life. The cellar door bulged and exploded cartoon-style from its hinges. Flames thick as burning mercury flowed towards the front of the house. Only the air pushed ahead of the inferno saved her — smashing her down while fire jetted like a chameleon’s tongue into the street.

‘Your shirt’s burning,’ Sam cried, swatting at the flames. Soon the flames were beaten out, converted into curls of acrid smoke. They crawled away towards the gutter, dragging the miraculously intact fish bucket behind them. The ground beneath them heaved wildly.

For a moment the house seemed about to lift off, and then everything exploded. Beams and glass whined past, smashing into the houses across the street. Beth was afraid to lift her head, plugging her ears against the nightmarish noise. Smaller detonations could be heard — exploding paint tins, light fittings, perhaps even bottles of wine.

Gradually the tremors decreased, before fading completely. She huddled against Sam, who was shaking uncontrollably. He had been so sharp, resisting the dragon’s mind-warping scent.

We did it. He can’t hurt us now.

Gradually, the house was consumed, and she cried. Everything her family owned, all the memories, her whole childhood; in ashes.

72

When a hand grasped her shoulder, she grabbed convulsively at Sam. Dr Graydon’s face looked into her own.

‘Thank God. You’re alive. I saw your house explode.’ He helped them to their feet.

Hemming Heights’ streetlights were all out, the only light coming from fires burning at various points along Serpentine Drive. Sam’s shirtless back was covered with small burns, hair scorched from his arms. ‘I gave it to him, didn’t I?’ he said. ‘We almost forgot, eh? Didn’t give him the pill. Huh. He almost got me, though.’ He laughed, but the sound had a ragged edge.

Graydon guided Sam to his car, carrying the fish-in-a-bucket in his other hand. ‘He’s not quite right. All those little burns. We need to find a paramedic.’

The doctor’s madness seemed to have completely evaporated.

‘Is he gone, Beth?’ Sam asked, as they drove away, Graydon zigzagging to dodge the many chunks of burning debris strewn across the road. ‘He’s quiet now. Is he asleep? I want him to go away.’

She nodded her head, and Graydon gave her a strange look. Graydon’s car crunched across a drift of debris.

‘Is he talking about the earthquakes?’

‘I think so. We had to come back for the fish.’

‘Ah. Not much of a reason to take such a risk. Oh, hell!’ he broke off. Rounding a corner, the street was blocked. Three streetlights had fallen, blocking both lanes.

‘We’ll have to hoof it,’ he said. Rain began to fall again, cold and fine, blowing into their faces, wetting them through. The interrupted storm resumed. They passed dozens of damaged houses and lightning-struck trees. Soon, Graydon picked up Sam and carried him. Sam looked very small in his arms.

Beth’s mouth was almost permanently agape. Big news, Beth realised. Not just for Goolgoorook, but Australia. Hell, the world? She didn’t want to see the ruins of her house on a flat screen.

He’s gone, she breathed, hardly daring to hope. The ground beneath her feet was absolutely still. Gone back to dreams. Gone to sleep for another five hundred years. In the distance she caught glimpses of the main roadblock on Dairy Road, surrounded by flashing lights and emergency vehicles. Horatio dangled in his bucket. She wondered how long his air would last, and willed him to breathe slowly.

‘Almost there,’ said Dr Graydon soothingly.

Without warning, a figure rose from behind a wrecked car. ‘I knew you’d be up here!’ it crowed, face in darkness. ‘You had to come back!’

Sam tried to wriggle from Graydon’s grasp. ‘Flack,’ he squeaked.

‘Flack!’ Dr Graydon was obviously nonplussed at the other man’s appearance. Where the doctor’s mania had abated, Flack’s mind had obviously deteriorated further. He was wearing a scuffed miner’s hat with a light attached, pointing it at their faces, down at the scale he still held.

‘You’re in on this too, Graydon?’ he snarled peevishly, ‘they told you everything, and not me? Not nice. Impolite.’

‘What are you talking about, John?.’ He gestured at the ruin that was Hemming Heights.

‘I speak of things hidden. By people afraid of the truth. Rare species! Mysteries.’

Beth drifted behind the doctor, trying not to look at Flack’s agitated face. She was tired beyond description.

‘They know.’ Flack took an unsteady step forward. ‘The girl — she gave me this — said she didn’t know what it was.’ He smiled and lurched at Beth.

Graydon grabbed at Flack’s hand, but he was too quick, dancing backwards.

‘Oh, no. It belongs to me. The golden thread that connects everything. She knew already!! She knew what it was. This is all her fault.’

‘And the school?’ Graydon enquired, trying to block Flack’s forward progress. ‘They don’t need your help?’

Flack shrugged ‘Every man has a higher calling. And I have found mine.’ He shrieked, a high and aggressive cry.

Sam whimpered.

‘Let us go! Run to the house, then!’ She stepped forward and jabbed him hard in the chest, pushing him back. ‘Go look, just leave me alone. Go up there! Go on. No time to waste.’

Flack never replied. Instead he screamed and pointed. They all turned in time to see an extraordinary sight. Hemming Heights began to swell like a balloon. Houses fell apart or tumbled into dark fissures. Wood splintered, metal creased and kinked and everything seemed to blur, familiar landscapes morphing into something alien. Chunks of hillside peeled away, sliding towards Dairy Road. Through half-shut eyes, Beth saw the top of the hill surge up into the sky.

‘An eruption!’ howled Dr Graydon, forgetting his interrogation of Flack. ‘Run!’

They ran, carrying Sam, carrying the fish. Clumps of rock began to pound down around them.

A jagged rock fell from the sky and shattered on the roadway. Fragments whined past. Flack cried out and grabbed at his knee. blood started out between his fingers. Beth turned to help him, leaving the doctor to lug Sam to safety. Flack writhed on the roadway, clutching his leg and shouting at the rapidly darkening sky. Pieces of Hemming Heights were coming to earth with tremendous violence. The noise terrified Beth.

As she bent to help Flack, she looked up fearing more rock showers. Through thick curtains of rain and dust and smoke, an immense, indistinct form rose suddenly from the hill. Black shadows unfurled. There was too much rubbish in the air to see properly, and her head was far from clear.

A forest of lightning bolts flashed in a circle around the hill, and for an instant, eyes wide and unbelieving, she saw — gold. No shapes, just colour, beautiful, metallic and overwhelming, as if a star had gone nova. She closed her eyes, seeing an incandescent field of pure light. Goldenscale.

Then the light was gone and they were in terrible danger.

73

A chunk of rubble the size of a car engine smashed into the recently deserted roadblock. Debris exploded into the air and hummed over their heads.

Goldenscale. I saw the dragon! Awake! He was awake! Through all this strangeness and sensory overload she still struggled down the road, gasping at the weight of her teacher, wishing he’d do more walking and less sagging. All the while he swore and giggled and flung out his hands as if attempting to catch flies. They passed onto Dairy Road, almost past the edge of Hemming Heights. Back into the land of functioning street lights. The road before them was deserted, hazed with thick masses of smoke.

Graydon paused for breath, gently lowering Sam to the ground.

‘Surviving?’ he asked Beth.

‘We might,’ said Beth with surprise. ‘I didn’t think so back there.’

‘Astounding,’ he puffed. ‘Inexplicable.’

Mr Flack fell silent, staring unblinkingly back at the chaos. He held up his hand, examined it, slapped himself in the face. Then again, harder. Tears began to well up in his eyes.

Did he see anything? Beth wondered. Abruptly, he looked across at her, face lit intermittently by lightning and innumerable fires. Despite Flack’s tears, he appeared slightly less wild. He seemed to have shrunk. Beth wished she had seen the weakness and hunger in him earlier. ‘I’m only a kid,’ she muttered angrily to herself.

‘So big,’ Flack hissed, ‘putting a shadow over us all. And you thought it belonged to you.’

‘He’s gone,’ she replied. ‘No-one ever owned him.’

‘Let’s go,’ said Graydon. ‘You two can finish this chat later.’ He squinted into the gloom and smoke. ‘We might be safe on the Arterial. Maybe.’ He hoisted Sam onto his shoulder.

‘Maybe it’s gone, whatever it was,’ said Mr Flack with a bitter smile, ‘but I still have this.’ He held out his precious scale, aglow in the beam of the miner’s light.

‘What is that thing?’ Graydon asked. He reached for it, but Flack shoved it back in his pocket.

‘It’s something strange our uncle gave us,’ said Beth. ‘Flack took it. It’s not his.’

In light of what she had glimpsed, Beth doubted the dragon’s scale would be enough for her teacher, even if it did retain its lustre. She was glad she had returned her own. Her mind wandered. Horatio’s bucket was still intact — but did he have enough air?

Her hip, knee and lip began to throb mercilessly. She was forced to let go of Flack and stop again, swaying. As she stood there, she heard a whistling noise and her vision exploded, head kicked backwards by an impact. Retching a bitter mess of bile and blood onto the road, she felt her body collapse a joint at a time. All that was left was a dim sensation of hardness, a dull pain and her thoughts scattering. I’m dying … 

74

‘Beth! Be-ethh!!’

The dragon’s taken me with him. I’m climbing through thin air and ice is forming on my skin. I’m cold, but I don’t care. What does discomfort mean when in the presence of a god-king?

‘Beth. This is your dad. Squeeze my hand if you can understand me.’

I’m flying with the dragon. He swoops low over the ocean, until spray curls back from the wave tops. I can feel his heart beating, and the furnace in his lungs. The king of everything — older than the mountains … 

Her mouth felt dry. Why didn’t the dragon let her drink?

He hates our words, our minds, almost everything about us. But does he like me? Will he make some small exception?

Her eyes fluttered, and opened. She saw only light at first, then a strange series of blurs that began to resolve like a camera finding its focus.

Heads hovered far above, floating around like blimps without tethers. She laughed, but no sound emerged. Six familiar heads. Sam, swathed in white bandages. Her parents, crying like fools, and … Jo and Sarah, eyes wide and shocked. Last, and oddest, a man who looked much like Uncle Henry, smiling, eyes bright with unasked questions.

She was lying at ground level, perhaps on a gurney. A tube had been inserted into her forearm.

‘Where’s Horatio?’ Beth rasped. ‘And Freddy?’ She tried to stand, but a man in a dark blue uniform bent and gently restrained her.

‘They’re fine, darling,’ sobbed Abbie.

Nick rubbed her shoulder. ‘Don’t worry about your coward dog. He ran at the first sign of danger.’

‘My head,’ said Beth. ‘Is it broken?’

‘Maybe a hairline fracture. Armour-plated,’ said the Uncle Henry lookalike. His voice even sounded the same. ‘Got yourself in the way of the last falling bit of Hemming Heights. Messed up your scalp and concussed the hell out of you.’

‘Henry!’ said Abbie. ‘Enough detail. They have to take you to hospital now, darling. In the … ambulance. For a bit of rest.’

People are strange, Beth thought, closing her eyes again. I don’t really need a rest.

They slid her into an ambulance and began the drive to Goolgoorook Base Hospital.

\

Her head throbbed, but she didn’t feel that the pain really belonged to her. She wondered if that was the drugs, and hoped she wouldn’t need them for too long. The driver was not hurrying, and she guessed they were heading for Goolgoorook Base Hospital.

‘Was anyone killed?’ Beth asked the paramedic. He was very young, his skin sallow under fluorescent lights. ‘Anyone in Hemming Heights?’ This seemed the most important question of all, and she dreaded the answer. If everyone knew who was really responsible … 

‘We don’t think so,’ he said, ‘the Heights were completely evacuated after the first big shake. Some sightings of a coupla kids …’ He looked at her. ‘Anyway, when we found your party, there were no more names on the list.’ He fiddled with her drip bag, adding something to it. ‘That teacher fellow will need a few stitches. Nasty little puncture wound in his leg. You’re the prize of the moment, though.’

Beth’s last thoughts before she slipped into unconsciousness concerned the ingratitude of the dragon and a disjointed rumination on the failure of Mara’s medicine. If it was hard to medicate a dog, why should a dragon be easy?

75

For the next few days, her parents kept her under close watch, as if she was likely to leap up and run out of the hospital. She was subjected to a variety of scans, the results of which gradually reassured doctors that her brain was no more impaired than it had been prior to the disaster. A nurse came along and picked stitches out of Beth’s scalp, distracting her with small talk. Each stitch ended up in a small kidney dish and Beth lost count after fifty. The bald patch around the sutured area was beginning to sprout a spiky field of stubble. Most of her other cuts and scrapes were caused by her fall onto the road after being struck. It was only a week later that her mother told her that she had suffered three hairline skull fractures and experienced a mild brain injury. Moderate bleeding, elevated pressures, probably no neural deficit. Probably.

‘Would have been good to know this last week!’ she shouted at Abbie.

‘We didn’t want to stress you,’ Abbie said. ‘The doctor said it would be better if you stayed calm.’

‘I’m never calm! Especially not now.’

Despite forgiving their children, or even lauding them as foolish heroes for rescuing the fish (which Beth insisted was the only reason for their return to the house, and hoped that Sam was also sticking to that line), Abbie and Nick were not about to slacken their surveillance. Abbie refused to allow TV or newspaper interviews, which was both disappointing and a relief. Beth grudgingly told herself that the world wasn’t quite ready for giant golden dragons and trance-inducing scents.

Nick brought Jo and Sarah in to visit and retreated to sit on a plastic chair outside the room, reading on his tablet. Beth felt her formerly rampant sense of guilt returning, but pushed it away. She turned to look at Jo and Sarah.

‘Can you get me out of here?’ she blurted.

‘Uh,’ said Jo. ‘That’s a prime idea.’

‘So you can do it again?’ Sarah asked. ‘You’re already some kind of legend at school. You can take a rest.’

‘I’ve had it with resting,’ Beth said. ‘I’ve read too many books, I’m sick to death of television.’ She smiled at them. ‘Do you to want to see the head thing?’ She peeled up enough of her bandages to give them a view of the shaved part of her scalp.

‘Jaysus,’ said Jo, taking a step back. ‘I hope they put the brain back in afterwards.’

The three of them gradually relaxed and conversation began to flow more freely.

Sarah smiled. ‘Department of unbelievable stories. You remember how Len had to go up to Ooralloo? Lenny and Jack Netcher are mates, now. No, they are. Jack initiated him into some men’s secret business, and he dropped all this white supremacy crap. Now he’s probably into Black Power. No BS.’

‘Mum’s in Fiji,’ said Jo, ‘though she wanted to come back when she heard about this. She keeps sending me letters to give to you,’ she said, drawing a sheaf of envelopes from her bag. Jo showed Beth photographs of her father, smiling in a strained kind of way from some tropical prison cell. ‘I’m not sure how the bribery thing is going. Takes time, my mum says. Have to meet the right people, show the right kind of respect.’

Eventually the conversation approached the big events, warily at first. Jo took the lead. ‘I don’t think many people will leave town. There might be a new suburb down in East Goolgoorook. Rezoning some farmland, or something like that.’

‘Did you know Mr Flack’s quit?’ broke in Sarah, ‘sold his house and bought a campervan. What’s weirder — he’s moved in with Mara, from Ooralloo. Mum says they’re having a joint mid-life crisis.’

Beth goggled. She thought for a while, feeling pieces drop into place.

That’s what Mara had meant when she said Jack Netcher didn’t approve of her boyfriend. And why Flack had never believed her lies. He must have known almost everything!

Whatever she had said to Mara went straight through to Flack. She might not have wanted to tell him, but Flack would have been persistent, wearing her down. No wonder Mara had always looked stressed.

Beth made jokes, asked questions and replied to those directed at her, but eventually she began to show signs of exhaustion.

‘Visiting hour is up,’ observed Jo. ‘The infirm must have their rest.’ On departure they left her some chocolates and a note. When alone, she unfolded it.

Dear Beth: It was nice to see you, but if you don’t tell us more about what happened, we will never speak to you again, or at least not about anything interesting. If you get to dodge massive explosions, rescue a bloody fish and see a whole suburb blow up, then the least you can do is tell the truth. You have a few days to think before this offer expires. Love, your friends.

Beth was still smiling when the nurse came in to check her temperature and tinker with monitoring equipment. Maybe I will tell them. Maybe they won’t think I’m mad. Or if they do, they will be too polite to say so.