Free Meridian Days by Eric Brown Page B

have."
    "Perhaps if we went there...?" I suggested.
    She looked at me. "Do you think it might help?"
    "It might. If you feel up to it, that is."
    "I don't know. I haven't been there in years. It frightens me."
    "The actual memory will be far more frightening, Fire."
    She shook her head, looking puzzled. "You'd think so, wouldn't you? But the memory is somewhere in here, part of me, waiting to be unlocked and remembered. Where it happened, or where I think it happened — that's somehow more real, threatening..."
    "It might be the first step towards remembering," I said.
    I stood, and after a moment's hesitation Fire joined me. We continued along the pathway which followed the outline of the island, the sea below to our right and a plantation of trees and shrubs to our left. Our way was illuminated by a series of small lights strung out on a cable along the length of the path. We came to a clearing, a sloping greensward stretching up to the hilltop. Fire halted and quickly grasped my hand like a child in need of reassurance.
    "This is it, Mr Benedict."
    We stepped from the path and strolled up the hillside. The night phase was well upon us now, but the greensward was lighted by the stars over Darkside and the glow of the lights beside the path. The clearing was filled with the fragrance from the blooms in the surrounding shrubbery. I found it hard to imagine that this pleasant glade could have been the venue for so tragic an event as the death of Fire's sister.
    Then her hand tightened on mine and I could feel her shaking. "I hate this place! Don't you feel it? The evil?"
    "You can't recall anything?"
    She shook her head. "Nothing, not a thing. That's what's so frightening. Perhaps if I could remember something, then I wouldn't be so afraid. Does that make any sense?"
    I walked her up the incline like an invalid. "I know what you mean," I said, not at all sure that I did.
    "It's the absence of memory that makes this place so forbidding. Everywhere else on the island holds memories for me, except here. That's what makes me think this must be the place." She glanced about her in silent desperation, her green eyes wide.
    "Something else — Tamara never mentions this place. Sometimes she makes me accompany her on walks, but we never stop here. When we pass it on the path, she always hurries on."
    We had come to a halt in the centre of the glade.
    From holding her hand, I thought it the natural thing to do to put a protective arm around her shoulders. "Tell me about Jade," I said.
    I felt the slight movement of a shrug beneath my arm, as much to say that she did not want to talk.
    "It can only help," I prompted.
    "Oh..." Something caught in her throat. "I wouldn't know where to begin."
    "How old was she when the accident happened?"
    Another shrug. "About my age now, nineteen, twenty. I was fifteen. We were very much alike. We had our mother's looks, before she was altered, and our father's calm temperament. When I think back, I seem to recall that we were always together."
    "What kind of things did you two get up to?"
    Fire smiled. "With Tamara and Max busy so much of the time, we were left to ourselves. We'd explore the forest — the 'jungle' we called it — take a small boat around the coves. The usual stuff kids get up to. I remember one time..."
    She went on, recounting the games and adventures of her childhood. It seemed that, when talking of her sister, she recalled true happiness. She had said earlier that her sister was the only person ever to show her any real affection, and I was pained when I thought of what a loss her sister's death must have been.
    For a time while she spoke, it seemed that she was quite unaware of where she was and who she was talking to. She paused, smiled at me. "Do you know something, Mr Benedict? I feel closer to my sister than I have in years."
    At my urging, we continued up the slope.
    "Did Tamara allow Jade off the island?" I asked.
    She pushed a strand of sun-bleached hair from her face,