This Golden Land by Wood Barbara

Author:Wood, Barbara [Wood, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781596528918
Publisher: Turner Publishing Company
Published: 2012-05-01T00:00:00+00:00

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EAL SCOTT AWOKE TO A NIGHT OF TERROR.

He was brought out of a black void by the chanting of voices, and as he slowly regained consciousness, the voices grew louder, and then his other senses woke up. There was a pungent aroma in the air, familiar and yet unidentifiable. And he was hot—very hot. But it was a moist heat, as if he were enveloped in steam. A foul taste filled his mouth, and his head throbbed. And the singing—it grew louder until he was finally able to open his eyes and see where it was coming from.

He stared in horror.

Black devils, their naked bodies painted with white stripes, were dancing crazily around a blazing fire. Others sat in a circle, hitting sticks together in a frenzied rhythm.

Neal realized in shock that he, too, was naked. And he was tied down. His back prickled. He lay on something strange—made of sticks, and he was hot and damp.

And then he realized: he lay over a pit.

Dear God, they are going to eat me!

Neal struggled against his bonds, but he was too weak. All he could do was lie helplessly in his restraints, like a sacrificial beast, and watch his captors perform a savage dance while Neal Scott, late of Boston, slowly cooked . . .

Blackness swallowed him as he sank back into the merciful void. And then he felt pain in the eyes. Sharp, like knives. And his mouth—so dry! The singing had stopped. Was this the moment they started carving him up? Weren't they going to wait until he was dead?

Wait! I am still alive!

Neal opened his eyes to bright, stabbing sunlight. He squinted until his sight adjusted to the daylight and the sharp pain went away. He blinked up at a face looking down at him.

"How do you do, sir?"

Neal frowned in confusion. He was no longer tied over the roasting pit but lying on the ground under a shelter of branches. And beneath his bare skin he felt soft fur. He stared up at the face. She was smiling. "Jallara," she said, tapping her chest. "I, Jallara. How do you do, sir?"

Neal could only stare. Jallara was the most exotic girl he had ever seen. Although she was clearly Aboriginal, her unusual features bespoke a mixed ancestry. Back in America, Neal had encountered people who were half African and white, and half Indian and white, but this girl was like none of those. She stood over him and she seemed tall, with long limbs. Her face was round with dimpled cheeks, thick black eyebrows above large black eyes, a soft nose and a sensuous mouth. Not exactly beautiful, but intriguing. Her skin was a dusky brown, her hair silky-long and black. She wore a strange costume, Neal noticed—a grass skirt that ended at her knees, and a loose covering above the waist that eluded identification. Was it a woven mesh tunic of some sort? A loose bodice, perhaps, made of the fibers of a white plant? Neal tried

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