Emily Rodda - The Third Door

Like a swarm of monstrous bees the skimmers soared upwards. They wheeled as one creature. Then they dived, and even from this distance it seemed to Rye that he could see their needle teeth bared and glinting. His heart ached for Weld.

And then, directly below the diving swarm, the sky seemed to blaze. Abruptly the swarm broke into thousands of separate twisting, flapping parts as the skimmers faltered, scattered, frantic to escape the blinding flare of light.

The people defied the Warden!

‘Tallus’s theory was right!’ Rye yelled, as Sonia’s astonished cry filled his mind, for an instant banishing the bitter shadows. ‘The light—’

But that was all he could say. His next words caught in his throat. For as he watched, the skimmer swarm was reforming. For a moment it swirled and eddied in the sky like a great puddle of oily water. Then it wheeled and came hurtling towards Fell End.

19 - Magic

Rye’s first thought was for Dirk and Sholto, and in terror he looked down, tensing himself to fly to his brothers’ aid. But the riverbank was deserted. There was nothing to be seen but churned mud, loaded carts and dark rows of barrels. Of course, Rye told himself dazedly. Everyone would have sought shelter long ago. They all know that skimmers take flight after sunset.

And they all know where the skimmers come from, his thoughts ran on. They must have seen the swarm rising from the forbidden forest often, when the attacks first began.

For years they had been tormented by the creatures they called slays. For years the stragglers of the swarm had swooped on Fell End, ravaged the fields and herds of the inland and destroyed the peace of summer nights in Riverside.

But never had the people outside the Wall felt an attack like the one there would be tonight. Tonight, repelled from their usual feeding bowl, the whole, hungry skimmer swarm would fall upon the larger hunting ground that only a few hundred strays had tried before.

Rye tried to pull himself together. He knew perfectly well that the shock of having all his beliefs overturned had numbed him to his own danger, and to the danger of his companions. The sky over the Fell Zone was black with skimmers. The swarm was like a broad, wavering spear, aiming directly at the warm human flesh the skimmers could sense clinging to the highest point of the pipeline in Fell End.

Jett had stopped screaming. He was staring, his face shiny with sweat, as certain death flew towards him.

‘Jett, give me your hand,’ Rye shouted, reaching out. ‘I can protect you!’

Jett shook his head violently, showing the whites of his eyes and crossing his fingers and his wrists. Grinding his teeth, Rye reached forward and seized the edge of the man’s jacket. Jett quaked and moaned but did not try to pull away.

The Fell Zone, Rye! Safe there. Safe …

Too late …

Too late to fly. Too late to escape. Rye’s heart sank as he remembered the skimmer attack at the Harbour, the violent battering as the creatures dashed themselves senselessly at the invisible shield thrown up by the armour shell. How long could he hold onto Sonia, Jett and Farr under that relentless buffeting? Farr would not be able to help himself. He was plainly under some sort of enchantment. But if he was not a servant of the Master how could that be?

The swarm was almost upon them. The rasping of leathery wings filled Rye’s ears. In fascinated horror he saw the pale eyes, the flaring ears and snarling snouts of the leaders, saw the needle teeth, the great spurs curving, ready to strike.

Then suddenly he could not see them any more. Suddenly they were hidden behind a swirling cloud of thick, white smoke.

He could hear them still. He could hear their high, chittering shrieks of confusion and baffled hunger, hear the uneven flapping of their wings as they veered clumsily away from the smoke that drugged and slowed them.

For an instant Rye thought he had lost his senses. This had happened at the Harbour! A cloud of smoke, just when it was needed! But where had smoke come from here—all the way up here, where there was nothing to make it, no one but …?

And suddenly, Rye understood. Suddenly he understood many things. His eyes streaming, he turned his head and looked at Sonia. And through a veil of smoke he saw Sonia staring back at him defiantly, her eyes glittering green, sparks shooting from the hair that flew and crackled about her head like fire.

‘Sonia!’ he croaked. ‘The smoke … you …’

Sonia’s grip on his hand tightened. He felt her voice.

Yes. But I cannot hold it in place much longer. We must go!

The images of towering trees, banks of ferns and a rushing stream flashed into Rye’s mind, so clearly and powerfully that they engulfed every other thought.

The feather, Rye! Now!

Then wind was howling in Rye’s ears, and smoke was stinging his eyes. And the next moment he was no longer high above Fell End, but deep in rustling darkness.

He knew Sonia was with him, and Farr, and Jett. He could feel them all. The skimmers had been left behind. The smoke had been left behind, too, though traces of its smell hung about him, mingling with the scents of damp earth and growing things.

The Fell Zone.

He became aware that he was still clutching the red feather, and stuffed it into his pocket. He would have liked to get rid of the armour shell and speed ring, too. It made him sick to feel them on his fingers. But he forced himself to leave them alone.

He felt Sonia’s hand slide out of his. ‘We need light,’ she said stiffly. She pulled out the brown bag and thrust it at Rye. He unwound the broken cord from its neck and pulled out the crystal.

Light flooded the fern bank where they sat, and the stream that rushed beside them. It shone on Farr, still staring sightlessly ahead. It shone on Jett, crawling to his knees and looking around fearfully. It lit up Sonia’s pale, expressionless face, her glowing emerald eyes, her hair glittering like tangled copper wires.

‘Witch!’ Jett hissed.

He lunged at Sonia, gibbering with hatred. Sonia’s lip curled in contempt. And before he could lay a finger on her, Jett was writhing on the ground, groaning and fighting for breath.

Like the grey guard who attacked me at the Harbour , Rye thought.

Sonia nodded, very slightly.

Four-Eyes the trader’s sudden headache after cheating the people of the Den … The slave-hunter Kyte missing her aim again and again when she was trying to kill Sholto. The smoke. Your escape into the waiting room under the Warden’s nose. The unlocking of the secret door. Jett’s sudden sleep in the Watchtower …

Again, that slight, stiff nod.

Rye took a deep breath, remembering. The feather, so much more powerful when you are helping me …

Tie Jett up, Rye. He is a danger to himself and to us. Use the cord.

‘She is speaking to you in your mind,’ Jett cried hoarsely. ‘I can see it in your face! That is what Fellan do! By the Wall, Keelin, she has bewitched you! Fight her! She is our enemy! She is Fellan! Fellan!’

‘I am not Fellan,’ said Sonia, pale as moonlight. ‘I am of Weld. I am an orphan of Weld.’

‘Who were your parents then?’ Jett demanded. ‘Name them! I challenge you to name them!’

‘I do not have to answer to you, Jett of Northwall,’ Sonia answered coldly.

There was a roaring in Rye’s ears. Numbly he began untangling the faded cord from Farr’s ankles. He had to wrestle with it, but Farr seemed to feel nothing. He sat motionless and staring, like a dead man.

Bent over Farr, Rye could feel Sonia’s eyes upon him. Confused thoughts were flitting through his mind one after the other. Sonia had powerful magic at her command. Sonia could see the Fell Zone paths. Sonia had led him to the meeting with Edelle and the other Fellan. Sonia had been able to find the Doors to Weld when no one else could see them. Sonia had made it her business to become close to the daughter of the Warden of Weld, and thus gained knowledge of the Weld volunteers.