Free The Reef by Mark Charan Newton Page A

know all this?’
    ‘The library had its benefits. Also, news and contacts are prolific, if you know where to look.’ ‘How d’you mean?’ ‘There’re a few Qe Falta in Rhoam, although no one knew because their deformities are subtle, in certain cases. Like I keep saying, you know they’ve helped us on our previous scouting mission. They put us in contact with our guide that time, as a sort of in between. You meet many people in those cobbled streets, Menz, many people. People can hide by being right in front of you, because it’s the last place you expect to look.’
    A pterodette approached. Jella looked up at the small creature. At first a mere dot in the blue, became large, graceful as it flew above their heads in a circle, drifting on a thermal, hardly moving its wings, then turned sharply towards the home of the Qe Falta.
    ‘They’ll come for us,’ Jella said, her eyes fixed on the creature.
    Within the hour, shapes could be seen approaching from the boat, a plume of sand above them, unmoving with no wind to disturb its path. The shapes became larger, and soon Jella could see that it was in fact horses approaching. She counted ten in a wide line. On each of them was a figure wearing a dark cloak and she could see that because they rippled, obviously riding fast. Menz and Yayle opened a bag that was hanging on the side of their horse and each drew a musket.
    ‘Put those back,’ Jella said. She was facing away from the rumel, towards the riders. ‘You won’t need them.’
    ‘Why? I ain’t gonna trust no ghoul,’ Menz said.
    ‘Just put them away,’ Jella said, turning to them.
    Menz and Yayle placed the muskets back, closed the bag. It snagged against the rope that held it and fell off, smacking the sand. They held each other’s gaze. Lula stepped in between the rumel, put the bag back on the horse, tying it secure.
    The sun was directly overhead, the horses were almost upon them. Lula stepped alongside Jella . ‘I’m frightened of these things,’ she said.
    ‘Don’t be, beautiful. Don’t be.’ Jella held Lula’s hand, squeezed it. She could feel a pulse. Lula smiled, wiping further sweat off of her brow. The horses were almost there. Menz and Yayle stood closer. The group huddled alongside their horses. Menz’s fingers tapped his side.
    The horses arrived under a dust cloud. A figure in the centre raised his hand and the horses came to halt, which threw up even more sand and the wind had risen, sending it in an upward spiral. The cloud thinned, revealing the ten riders.
    Yayle held up his hand to protect his eyes from dust.
    Jella looked at the horses and her eyes widened. They ought to have been dead, they couldn’t possibly be alive. They were grey, gaunt, each appearing to be no more than a walking skeleton. Jella’s vision followed every bone that seemed to stick out like a fossil; their skin looked as thought it had been sucked inwards. Each rider wore similar black cloaks, and hoods were drawn over their faces. The central rider pushed off, jumped to the floor, airing his cloak. Muscular and tall, he stood still whilst it raised its right hand. Jella saw that it was not a hand at all, more of a claw that was like a crustacean’s. She let go of Lula’s hand and raised her own, then walked forward. It advanced towards her with its cloak flapping in the breeze. Menz, Yayle and Lula did not move, but stared with their mouths open slightly.
    ‘Welcome to the seas around the Aarc,’ the rider said. Its voice was frail, a hiss. ‘You have not drowned in these sands then?’
    ‘No, not at all,’ Jella said. She looked straight at the creature and her gaze travelled around the body as if to see what it was, but there were no clues under such loose clothing. There was another long silence.
    ‘Why’re you here?’ he said. ‘We don’t normally expect any visitors.’
    Jella remembered all the stories about the Qe Falta, the false people. She remembered that they were used to scare