Emily Rodda - The Third Door

It was with Sonia’s help that Rye had caused the death of Olt.

Rye knew what Dirk would say if Dirk were here, on fire because his gullible young brother had been used as a pawn by the beings of the forbidden forest. He knew what Sholto would say, after putting his feelings aside and coolly considering the evidence.

But Rye looked straight into Sonia’s green eyes, and smiled.

‘And you do not have to answer to me,’ he said. ‘I know who you are. You are Sonia, and I would trust you with my life.’

Sonia’s tense face softened. Her pale lips parted in a long sigh. And Rye felt the icy shell that had held her rigid crack and melt away, and into his mind flooded the warmth of her overwhelming relief.

‘The people of Weld were magic once, or so the old tales claim,’ he said softly. ‘Perhaps some of Dann’s followers were part Fellan. Over time the magic faded, but it is still in our blood. No doubt it shows itself in a child every now and then, but inside the Wall it … is discouraged and kept hidden. Outside the Wall, it is set free.’

Yes. Sonia sighed again. ‘I did not know it at first,’ she said aloud. ‘I had no idea why I felt so alive outside the Wall. I—I did things without realising it, and then would be so tired I could not stay awake. It—was like using a muscle I had never used before, I suppose.’

‘But at the Harbour, in the testing hall, you understood what you could do.’

The girl nodded, waiting.

‘You saved us, but you did not tell us,’ Rye went on in a low voice. ‘You were afraid to tell—even me.’

Pictures rushed from her mind into his. Some were memories: The Warden anxiously crossing his fingers and his wrists. A haggard woman shrieking in hatred. A small man shrinking away in fear. Jett’s face, twisted with loathing. Some were imagined: Rye, Annocki, Sholto, Dirk and Faene staring and pointing at the stranger among them.

Witch! Witch! Witch!

Rye straightened, holding the freed cord in his hands. ‘I understand,’ he said. ‘But it is a gift, Sonia, not a curse. Where would we have been without it?’

He drew breath, and made himself go on. ‘Sholto would agree,’ he added steadily. ‘Sholto does not trust magic, but—but he respects the truth. He would never blame anyone for being what they were born to be.’

A sudden, frantic scuffle made them both jump. They swung round just in time to see Jett splash across the stream, plunge heedlessly into the undergrowth on the other side, and blunder away into the darkness.

‘Let him go!’ Sonia snapped, as Rye made to follow. ‘If he prefers to risk the forest rather than stay with us, that is his choice! No matter what we say, he will never believe we mean him no harm. His mind is fixed. He is a true hero of Weld.’

‘What … is Weld?’

The voice was deep and puzzled. Rye and Sonia exchanged a startled glance, and turned to Farr.

Farr was sitting up, blinking and rubbing his forehead. ‘What—is Weld?’ he asked again. ‘Where am I?’ He caught sight of Rye and Sonia and his brow furrowed.

‘You!’ he hissed, trying to rise, feeling for the sword that no longer hung from his belt.

‘Stay where you are, Chieftain Farr,’ Rye said hastily. ‘We are in the Fell Zone. Here you are safer with us than without us. It is night. The skimmers—the beasts you call slays—are abroad.’

Farr stared at him, clearly trying to concentrate, to make sense of what had happened to him.

‘Janna …’ he managed to say.

‘The lady Janna is safe in Fell End,’ Rye told him. ‘You do not need to fear for her.’

Farr looked around. His eyes narrowed. ‘But it seems I should fear for myself.’

‘No!’ Rye swallowed, hoping desperately that he could explain in a way the chieftain could understand. ‘We are not your enemies. We are not Fellan. We are your allies!’

‘You’ve regained your memory, then, Keelin,’ Farr said dryly. ‘You know who you are, at last.’

‘I have regained most of my memory, but not all,’ Rye said. ‘I still do not remember the moments just before the beast attacked Zak.’

‘How convenient.’ Farr’s face was expressionless, but his every nerve was alert, Rye could feel it.

‘My name is Rye,’ Rye went on doggedly. ‘Sonia and I came here to try to stop the skimmers—the slays. They prey on our home, too. We had no idea that they rose from the Fell Zone until we saw them take flight tonight.’

‘Why have you brought me here?’ Farr asked tonelessly.

‘To save you from the skimmers,’ Sonia said. ‘They do not hunt on the floor of the forest. The Fellan prevent it.’

Farr cocked an eyebrow. ‘And how do you know that, if you are not Fellan yourself?’

‘I just know it,’ Sonia muttered.

‘Indeed.’ Farr straightened his shoulders and seemed to make a decision. Rye could feel his tension, his muffled fear and his determination. There was a strange sort of excitement too. It was as if the man had vowed to follow a perilous path without knowing where that path might lead.

And perhaps, Rye thought slowly, I should do the same. The risk is great, but it is worth taking.

Beware, Rye, Sonia whispered in his mind. Do not trust him!

‘Very well,’ Farr said loudly. ‘You’ve captured me, Keelin. You’ve brought me here. Now what’s to be done?’

Rye took a breath. ‘I have something to show you,’ he said, untying the red bundle at his belt. ‘Something that Carryl would have liked you to see.’

He pulled the gold casket from its wrapping, opened it, and displayed the glimmering disc to Farr.

Farr stared at the disc but made no attempt to touch it. ‘So,’ he murmured, ‘it does exist. Carryl told me, but I didn’t believe her.’

Suddenly he looked inexpressibly sad.

‘You have been planning to attack the Fellan,’ Rye said. ‘Carryl did not want you to do it.’

Farr sighed. ‘She believed it would be wrong. Dangerous. She said there was an ancient treaty—a spell that bound both parties. Well—’ He shrugged his powerful shoulders. ‘We all heard that tale in our youth. Dorne’s a strange island, with a strange history. Legends are bound to grow up in such a place.’

‘But this is not a legend.’ Bracing himself, Rye picked up the disc. It burned in his hand. Its surface rippled and the words appeared.

Farr stared silently at the rhyme. Gradually his eyes hardened and he turned away.

‘Fine words! But the spell has worn out, it seems. The Fellan broke their pledge when they began sending those creatures of sorcery to prey on us.’

‘The skimmers are no more creatures of sorcery than Fell dragons or bloodhogs are,’ Sonia said quietly. ‘And the Fellan did not breed them. They could well claim that they have not broken their pledge in deed, even if they have broken it in spirit.’

‘Again, you’d know that better than I would,’ Farr muttered, without turning round.

‘And do not forget that the charm has been lost for centuries,’ Rye urged. ‘It was hidden away in a wall, behind a statue made of iron. It is possible that the Fellan could no longer sense it fully. Metal affects their magic.’

‘That I do know.’ There was a grim note in Farr’s voice. The back of his neck was stiff, his shoulders tense.

Rye thought of the metal barrier fence, the metal slay shields. Yes, Farr and his people had done what they could to protect themselves from the Fellan. They relied upon metal as those in Weld who followed the old ways relied on salt to protect them from evil magic. But salt and metal would not ward off the Master. The Lord of Shadows had grown too powerful, too ancient in wickedness, for that.