Les Jours de l'ombre
Francine Pelletier
(Excerpt from chapter 3, p. 27-33)
The rustle of a branch told her that Nosh had started moving. She followed him through the woods to the river, whose banks they walked along for a long time. The air felt cooler, but the walk was making Ema sweat. The river murmured an invitation to dive in. When Nosh stopped finally, Ema almost asked him if he was sure they were near Ilor, then she told herself that the shaah and the troupe was constantly travelling, and that Nosh must know the distances.
He chose a location under the trees close to the water. It was unlikely that inhabitants from Ilor came for walks along the river after a day of work in the fields, especially since a rare entertainment was waiting for them in the village that evening, but the shaah was taking no chances.
Ema watched him gather dead wood for the evening, and she did likewise, still without a word. During her search for fuel for the fire, she found some edible berries, made a basket with the front of her skirt and filled it. When she rejoined Nosh, he handed her a dish and she poured in her harvest.
Like the day before, the sun was blazing as it set. Soon the cool of the night would enshroud the woods. Ema went down to the river to bask in the warmth of the setting sun. She bathed in her chemise. When she returned to their camp, Nosh didn't seem to have moved a muscle. She made herself a bed of ferns and lay down, her eyes staring at the pinnacle the tree over her head and, beyond the foliage, a patch of blue sky.
This nomad life was not so bad. You earned your sustenance day by day, going from village to hamlet, serenely, unhurried. Of course, she did not possess Oda's impressive voice nor Pepi's talents for juggling, but she could still be useful to Lévi. She would learn to make puppets, to sew their costumes, and perhaps even manipulate them...
And there was winter in town. There she would find work, that was certain. Perhaps she could even earn enough to help the troupe during the rest of the year
She slipped into sleep with a little smile on her lips - a smile of self-derision for the new fiction she had invented for herself. Her hand, as if independent of her will, stroked the developing eye under her clothes.*** She woke after nightfall. Nosh was snoring on his side, rolled up in a ball, but, before going to sleep, he had lit the fire. Ema rubbed her eyes yawning. Her clothes had dried on her and, without the heat of the flames no doubt she would be shivering. As she got up, Nosh bounded to his feet, his hands extended, ready to attack. Ema stepped back.
"Hey, it's me! What's the matter with you?"
At the moment, he did not seem to recognize her; his body was like an animal at bay. Then, after a while, the humanity returned to his eyes. With a sigh, Nosh dropped to the ground. Ema kneeled close to the fire. She was really shivering now, but not from the cold.
To regain her composure, she took her gourd, took a long swig, then held it out to her companion.
"You want some?"
He nodded. Ema took a deep breath. The puppeteer would not have left her alone with the shaah if there had been any danger. Feeling more kindly, she torn the remaining bread into two pieces and put down the bowl of small fruits between her and her companion.
Strangely, as her fear subsided, she was filled with compassion, an enormous pity for this creature whose brutal awakening - ready to parry blows - showed clearly the kind of life he led, the life of an animal being hunted by everyone.
As he tore the bread with his teeth, she ventured a question.
"Do they often leave you like this?"
At first, he just chewed, looking at her with irony. Then, after swallowing, he answered.
"What kind of welcome do you think I get in hamlets like yours?"
He obviously did not expect her to answer. Ema just had to imagine how she herself would have reacted if she had met Nosh in the street in Namelak. She would have screamed so loud that even the shepherds in the highest pastures would have been alerted.
A strange observation. She was not at all the same Sha'Ema now. In two days, her world had been transformed.
"You don't even go into town?"
He shrugged.
"Starting in the autumn, with clothes that cover well, I mingle with the crowd."
He smiled a nasty smile that was more a grimace.
"Sometimes I even do an act with Lévi. Not everywhere, it depends on the theatres and the kind of audience."
Ema's eyes widened.
"An act?"
He mimed strings on his arms and legs.
"I play a giant puppet and then, I escape from my master's control..."
He makes horrible faces, bares his fangs, growls. Ema started laughing.
"Oh, that must be terrible to watch!"
Nosh's expression softened, and he nodded with an almost friendly "yes." Ema thought of the love with which she had been nurtured, of crazy trips to the mountains with her friends, of the quiet winter evenings by the fire, with father and Aron...
"You weren't born like this."
Nosh's eyes narrowed until they were no more than two narrow slits that let out a look as sharp as a knife.
"What do you know about it?"
He had already revealed himself too much for her to fear him now. She answered:
"The metamorphoses. It always comes late. In adulthood."
He laughed. Out of pure madness - Ema would never know why she had done such a thing - before she realized what she was doing, she had unlaced her dress and opened her chemise, showing the growing eye.
"Me too, as you can see."
With a ferocious growl, he got up on his knees, grabbed Ema's chemise as if he was going about to tear it off, then he violently pushed the young woman away. She gave a shrill scream, but he moved away from her, from the stone circle. At the edge of the clearing, he stopped and turned his furious gaze towards Ema.
"You know nothing, nothing! I was born like this. I'm not a fucking bastard of Akae!"
He disappeared towards the river and Ema, stunned, lay for a long time in the position where he had pushed her. What could she have been thinking to bare her soul to such a creature? She had thought... So monstrous, he should have realized what she felt with that third eye emerging!
She didn't know who she was angrier with, with Nosh or with herself.
She stood up with dignity and did up her clothes. Where had he run off to now? And what would Lévi and Oda say if he didn't come back? She was supposed to keep him out of trouble, not make him run away!
She headed towards the river too, searching the night. Plop! A splashing sound above the babbling of the water. He was there, squatting on a rock, his arms wrapped around his knees. Repressing a sigh of relief, Ema in turn sat down on a rock, a few paces behind him. Without turning around, he asked:
"What do you know about the Akaes?"
Ema shivered. She had not heard that word spoken since school.
"They invaded us, a long time ago. They were shape changers. That's what it means, 'akae.' They took human form to deceive us, and we welcomed them. We knew they were different, but we shut our eyes to that. Then unions occurred. Unions against nature, the mixing of blood that should not have been mixed. Since then, we have suffered the curse of impure blood..."
Nosh leans towards her with a quick movement of his hand.
"Enough!"
She fell silent. He turned back towards the river. Nightfall was complete. She could not make out his features. He continued with his hoarse voice, speaking so low that she could barely understand the words:
"You learned your lesson well, Sha'Ema. The priest of Namelak must be proud of you."
She started to answer back, then closed her mouth again, offended. It was true that Ep'Ebro, though stingy with compliments, had expressed satisfaction with her diligence in the study that proved the purity of her blood. An enormous lie, especially after the death of her mother...
Drearily, she said:
"You asked me what I knew."
He nodded with a sigh.
"It's true."
Emboldened, she once again ventured a question.
"So what do you know about the Akaes?"
He laughed a muted, suppressed laugh that expressed no joy.
"Nothing more than you, Sha'Ema. But I ask questions."
He was still being scornful. She challenged him.
"What kind of questions?"
He turned to face her and looked for her eyes in the night.
"Do you really believe that story that they were invaders who came to deceive us? If that were true, then where are they, those invaders, and why did they disappear?"
This time, she remained quiet. He pronounced a triumphant "ha!" and, letting himself fall over backwards, slid into the river. Ema immediately stood up. What was he up to now...? But he simply swam skilfully to keep himself even with the rock. Besides, the water wasn't very deep here.
"Don't go far!"
He shook himself, splattering her with cold water.
"Why? Are you afraid to be all alone?"
He splashed around at her feet, looking indifferent to everything. Ema sighed.
"We're supposed to stay together, remember?"
He answered with a gurgle, his mouth half under the water. Ema looked at him, fists on her hips, and asked the question that was bothering her.
"What kind of foolishness am I supposed to keep you from committing?"
He came out of the water, shaking himself, and leaned on the rock.
"In your village... During the festival... I snuck into the lean-to where your famous cheeses were stored, not to mention your wine. I think I emptied a cask. It was Pepi who found me. He managed to drag me out of the hamlet before daybreak. When they left the village, after the wedding, I was still sleeping off the wine."
Ema brought her hand to her mouth, torn between amusement - the look on her father's face if he heard that story! - and terror.
"What would have happened if someone else had found you!"
He walked past her, with his wet fur smell, the coolness emanating from his body and a dark satisfaction in his voice.
"I would be dead, of course..."
© 2004 Éditions Alire & Francine Pelletier
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