The Tower A Novel (Sanctus)

29





The heat hammered a headache into Liv before she had even made it out of sight of the compound. She was following the line of one

of the larger streams that flowed out from the holding pits, tracing it through the contours of the land. She did not stoop to

drink from it despite her thirst. She knew the riders would be watching and she did not want to give them the satisfaction. She

felt uneasy walking away, though she knew she had no option: each footstep seemed heavier than the last, like her whole body was

rebelling against leaving this place. It was as though her heart was physically bound to it and each step made the bond tighter as

it tried to pull her back.

After nearly two hours’ walking, the land started to fall away and she came across a shallow depression in the ground where the

water had pooled. She stopped still the moment she saw it and sank slowly to the ground.

An eagle stood on the far bank of the pool, dipping its curved beak into the water, sending gentle ripples across the surface

while its powerful talons gripped the wet, red earth like soft flesh. It saw her, held her gaze with its huge amber eyes. She

sensed no fear in it, or surprise at her presence, it just stared at her, so intently that she felt it must see right through her.

Then the crunch of a foot on dry earth behind her made the bird take flight in an explosion of feathers and water droplets.

Liv spun round and saw Tariq standing over her, his eyes following the bird upward as it rose into the sky. ‘Hey,’ she said,

‘you followed me.’

He looked down at her and smiled. ‘We all followed you,’ he replied, and stepped aside to let the rest of the refugees file

past. Liv watched in silence as they walked down to the water one by one. She felt like crying.

Since Gabriel had gone she had been almost overwhelmed by feelings of loneliness. It gave her hope to see these strangers now,

people who had chosen to follow her into the unknown rather than seek their own salvation. There was something happening here –

bigger than her, bigger than any one person – and she knew they must feel it, as she felt it, or else why would they be here?

‘This is a good omen,’ Tariq said, looking up at the eagle. She followed his gaze to where the outspread wings gyred high above

them, forming the shape of a T in the sky. She’d seen this before.

She grabbed the folded piece of paper from her pocket and opened it to reveal the rubbing of the Starmap, her eyes focusing on the

first line of symbols.



The river

An eagle

A T-shaped cross

Her eyes slid across the remaining symbols and her heart thumped in her chest.

‘Stop,’ she called out. ‘Don’t drink it, don’t drink the water.’ Faces turned to her and she could see questions and doubt

in their eyes.

She focused her mind on the symbols that followed the T.

The river again, a man kneeling next to it, his head hanging down and dripping, then the skull – symbol of death.

Liv looked back along the stream towards the distant compound, now just a shimmering smudge in the distance. For most of its

length it ran clear, but even as she watched she could see a change. Far in the distance a current was swelling and surging down

the stream towards her. It stirred up the mud as it went, turning the water the reddish colour of the earth – the colour of

blood.

How long before it reached here? Ten minutes? Five maybe. Then the water in the pool would be spoiled too. Unless. She looked at

the land, the way the river split, half of it flowing down into the pool.

‘We must dam the stream into the pool,’ she called out.

She moved quickly without waiting for a response, heading back to where the water split in two. Most of the flow was coming

towards her, down a shallow, two-metre wide stream that was feeding the pool. She picked up one of the boulders that littered the

broken ground and stumbled forward, the weight of the rock dragging her down. She reached the fork and the boulder splashed into

the water, sinking almost without trace beneath the surface despite the shallowness of the stream. The water continued to flow

around it unimpeded. She cast around for another rock and scrambled over to a large, brittle stone that fell apart as soon as she

tried to pick it up. She grabbed the two largest chunks and hauled them back to the stream, dropping them next to the first one.

Again they sank with barely a trace – and so did her spirits. She was already exhausted; she couldn’t possibly dam the stream on

her own. It was hopeless.

A rock hit the surface in an explosion that covered Liv with water. She turned and saw Tariq behind her, brushing dust from his

empty hands. He looked at her and smiled. ‘I’d get out of the way if I were you.’

She looked beyond him and saw something that made her laugh in pure shock. All eleven of the exiles were staggering towards her,

each carrying a rock. She jumped away as the first plunged into the stream in a depth-charge of water. Another joined it, then

another. They were already piling up, a few rising above the surface and visibly slowing the flow. Liv dropped down into the

water, scooping the red earth up from the riverbed and jamming it into the gaps between the rocks.

Tariq issued more orders in Arabic, and a curved wall began to form, extending across the stream that had run into the pool and

diverting the flow to the other fork.

‘Look,’ the cry came from one of the workers. He was pointing upstream. Everyone’s eyes followed – everyone’s but Liv’s. She

knew what they were looking at because she had already seen it – first on the stone and then in the hazy distance. The river was

turning to blood.

‘Quickly,’ she called out, continuing to scoop mud into the wall of rocks. ‘We haven’t got much time.’

The sight of the river turning red electrified the weary group. Some rushed to collect more stones, others joined Liv in the

water, frantically shovelling mud with their hands to seal the gaps.

Tariq dropped down and shovelled mud next to her then a hiss like a huge snake drew all eyes up as the red wave closed in.

‘Out of the river, everybody!’ Liv shouted.

Those in the stream leapt out as if crocodiles had suddenly appeared in it. Some scrambled down the rapidly drying riverbed to

help Liv and Tariq fill gaps in the dam wall, others stood back, awed by the sight of the swollen river arriving in a surge of

red.

It hit the wall with a slap and slopped over the top of the dam. Liv and Tariq dropped back, digging a reservoir in the mud of the

rapidly drying riverbed to catch the overspill. She looked up. Leaks had sprung out on the upper part where the mud had already

been washed away. One more breach and the whole thing could collapse. Others sensed this too and everyone joined her in the mud,

bolstering the wall with armfuls of silt and whatever rocks they could still find close by.

A stone tumbled down from the top of the dam and a cascade of red water followed it. Without stopping to think, Liv splashed

through the water towards it, grabbing the stone and jamming it back in place. She held it there, feeling the sickening flow of

red-tinted warm water over her hand, as though it really was blood.

From her new position she could see over the top of the dam and beyond. The trickle that had been the second fork of the stream

was now a solid red flow. But if the wall broke, all that water would quickly revert to its natural course and find its way down

to the pool.

Liv leaned against the dam and braced it with her whole body, arms outstretched, willing it to hold. She could hear the slop of

water on the other side of the wall, feel it running over her from the numerous gaps. She could almost sense the whole dam moving,

feel the stones slipping out of place under the pressure of the raging river.

Then something shifted.

A stone she had tried to jam back in place moved forward, seating itself tighter into the wall, and the flow became a trickle

around it. She looked over the top of the wall, her eyes wide. The water level had dropped. It was still dropping, leaving red

tide marks along the lengths of the banks. The surge had ended.

They worked quickly and silently, all energy focused on filling any holes in the dam. But Liv never moved. She remained where she

was, crucified on the wall and mired in red, her mind running through the symbols that had predicted all this and wondering what

greater terrors might lie in the future, until Tariq laid his hand on her shoulder and told her ‘It’s OK. The dam held. You can

let go now.’