squashed beneath a gigantic black spiral—and huge waves heaved upon the beach, clawing at the shifting sand.
A violent gust sent the trees across the river into a sudden backward arch. Ripped clean from its trunk, a particularly large branch flew towards us. Jorne and I ducked as it hit the roof, breaking through the planks and sending splinters flying in all directions. You howled from inside, but before I could run to help, the tree to which the branch had once belonged gave a terrible creak.
‘Get down,’ yelled Jorne, covering my head. With a hideous groan the tree was wrenched from its roots and fell across the river, its canopy crashing upon us.
I scrambled from Jorne’s arms and ran to your bed. You were fully awake, mouth agape and staring up at the gnarled finger of wood that now hovered above you. I gathered you up, wrapped you in your cloak and led you outside.
‘We need to find somewhere less exposed,’ I said.
Jorne nodded. ‘Follow me.’
We clambered over the fallen tree and made our way up the track, now slippery with mud. But as we climbed I heard voices below. Shadows ran to and fro across Fane’s circle, and voices called out in alarm. The storm-charged waves had breached the tree line and now hammered upon the dwellings nearest the shore. The lagoon was already flooded, and I watched as my own old dwelling lost its roof, and another beside it. The wave that had wrought the damage retreated, and I saw two figures dragged out in its foam. Then, two shapes darted from a dwelling on the opposite side of the square, one of which I knew very well. Haralia and Jakob stopped at the devastation before them. Holding one other, they turned and ran from the shoreline. But another wave was already in flight, towering above the settlement like a cliff-face ready to crumble.
‘Haralia!’
The water fell and for a moment I lost sight of them. I left you with Jorne and staggered down the path, straining to see.
‘Ima, come back.’
‘We have to help them,’ I said.
‘There’s no time.’
‘We must. Haralia!’ I called again, but all was foam and mud and chaos. I had reached the fallen tree, which was now being slowly claimed by the rising river, and broke through its branches, ignoring Jorne’s cries and the cuts in my hands and face. There was a distant whinny, and silhouettes of horses reared in the paddock below. One had jumped the fence and bolted. Another followed, but caught its hooves and landed with a sickening crunch upon the ground, where it struggled for a moment and lay still.
The water retreated and I scanned Fane’s circle. Jakob was lying face down, clinging to a post, with Haralia holding onto his leg. They did not move. Eventually my sister’s hand relinquished its grip upon her lover, and her prone and lifeless body swayed left and right in the retreating tide.
‘No.’ The word departed in a weak breath. My heart seemed to stop. I felt myself collapsing, folding up inside like a dying insect.
I had not known death before, nor had I worried about it, for the simple reason that to worry about anything beyond one’s control is an exercise in madness. But I knew it now. It was here, rising like one of those terrible waves, ready to fall and crush me.
Jorne arrived at my side with you in tow.
‘Ima, we cannot stay here.’
‘My sister.’
He followed my eyes to the devastation below.
‘I am sorry.’
But as he spoke I saw movement, and my heart renewed its pace. Haralia’s leg was curling up, and—look—slowly she got to her knees, coughing saltwater from her lungs. Staggering to where Jakob lay, she hauled him over her shoulder and limped from the circle.
‘She lives,’ said Jorne. ‘Now let us go.’
Another fierce wave was looming out at sea.
‘No, I must go down.’
But before I could, the ground had slipped beneath us and we found ourselves falling with it. The tree, the river, our house—everything began to slide away from the hill.
‘Ima!’ cried Jorne as he accelerated past me. He held you out and I grasped your hand, pulling you safely to me. We were moving, but Jorne was moving faster, tumbling with the tree. I spotted a root and grabbed it to stop our fall. Mud and water streamed around us, threatening to suck us clean from the mountain if I let go.
Jorne cried out in pain. He had become wedged between the tree trunk and