Emily Rodda - The Third Door

Jordan was still staring at Dirk, Rye and Sholto. He took a breath as if he was about to say something, but before he could speak the hallway door opened and a group of very clean Keep soldiers marched in.

‘Too late!’ Tallus groaned. ‘Here are the stalker birds!’

Despite everything, Rye had to smile. The soldiers, with their red leggings, white tunics and plumed helmets, did look ridiculously like the long-legged birds that plagued Weld’s grain fields. Then the smile froze on his lips as another image flew into his mind—the image of inhuman, grey-uniformed guards with strangely smooth, cool skin and hard, flat eyes.

How would the elegant Keep soldiers fare against the forces of the Lord of Shadows? The idea would have been comical if it had not been so terrible. It would not be battle, but slaughter.

But even as Rye shivered, it came to him abruptly that it did not really matter if Weld’s defenders were strong or weak. No army, however used to fighting, could combat the Enemy’s dark sorcery.

Instinctively he reached up to the little bag hanging around his neck. His fingers tingled with magic.

The waiting room door clicked open once more and the Warden stood framed in the doorway. He had put on his plumed hat, despite the fact that the feathers were stained with ink. He strutted forward, not troubling to close the door behind him. Through the gap Rye could see that the petition and the half-finished letter no longer lay on the polished table.

What am I doing here? Rye thought suddenly. How could I have let myself be drawn back into the affairs of Weld when outside the Wall right now something may be happening that will take us all another step towards disaster? When I am the only one with magic enough to stop it?

A feeling of urgency was surging within him like cold, salty water.

Sonia! he called in his mind.

The answer came instantly. I am here—hidden behind the chairs piled at the Warden’s back.

Sonia, I must go back through the Wall, Rye thought frantically. I must go — now!

The answer rang in his mind like a crystal bell. Make your move when you can. I will be with you.

No argument. No questions. Yet Sonia had to know as well as Rye did that it would be a miracle if she, with no armour shell or speed ring to aid her, and no hood to conceal her, could reach him in time to share in his escape.

Dull pain stabbed in Rye’s chest. He could not imagine going beyond the Wall without Sonia. What was more, his every instinct told him that it was wrong to leave her behind—that he needed her.

Roughly he forced his misery aside. If leaving Weld without delay meant leaving without Sonia, then that was how it had to be.

He took stock of his surroundings. The Warden had moved to Jordan’s side once more. The soldiers stood rigidly to attention, spaced out in a ragged line among the small patients’ beds. The waiting room door gaped wide not far to Rye’s left.

It was almost too easy.

‘This healer and his henchmen are traitors to Weld,’ the Warden was telling the soldiers. ‘When I give the order, move forward and take them into custody. Lock them up, then return at once to your duties. We must have the courtyard cleared in time for the changing of the guard.’

‘The—the changing of the guard, sir?’ one of the soldiers stammered. ‘Today, sir?’

‘Certainly,’ said the Warden with a slight frown.

The soldiers gaped at him, shifting uneasily from foot to foot so that they looked more like stalker birds than ever.

Rye gripped his brothers’ arms. ‘Into the waiting room,’ he breathed. ‘Now!’

He moved, and his brothers moved with him. Sped by the enchanted ring, they were standing by the narrow door that led to the depths of the Keep while the Warden and his men were still yelling in shock. The golden key was ready in Rye’s hand but he did not need it. The padlock hung open, and the door stood slightly ajar.

‘I fastened that padlock after we came through!’ Sholto panted as he and Rye bolted into the stone stairway after Dirk. ‘I am sure of it!’

‘Perhaps it opened when it felt our need of it,’ said a voice at Rye’s back.

Rye spun round. Sonia was standing there, closing the door behind her. She was pale and breathless, but she was with him, just as she had promised. He stared at her, dazed with relief.

‘Sonia!’ Dirk exploded. ‘How did you get here?’

Sonia shrugged. ‘I ran when you did, that is all. Did you think you were rid of me, Dirk? It is not so easy.’

Sholto was already hurrying down the steps. ‘Come on!’ he urged. ‘Any moment they may realise where we have gone!’

Dirk, Rye and Sonia followed him, their ears straining for the sound of heavy feet pounding after them. But all was still quiet as they reached the tiny, jewel-like room at the bottom of the steps.

‘They must have thought we escaped through the other waiting room door—the one we were all brought through to sign our Volunteer Statements,’ Dirk said gleefully.

Sonia had moved quickly to the golden medallion fixed to the wall opposite the door. Her dyed hair hung limply around her shoulders and there were dark patches beneath her eyes. But the eyes were glittering green.

She is filled with excitement because she is about to leave Weld again, Rye thought, as he, Dirk and Sholto ran to her side. The land beyond is calling her. Now she knows Annocki is safe, she cannot wait!

Sonia raised her hand and pressed her palm to the golden disc that the Warden called the sign of Dann. And in a blink they were back in the Chamber of the Doors.

They picked their way through the rubble to the far wall of the Chamber where the three Doors glimmered.

Magnificent gold. Mysterious silver. Sturdy wood bound with brass. And above them, the rhyme carved into the stone:

Rye stared at the rhyme.

Time to choose …

The three words seemed to loom at him from the rock, larger than all the rest, as if they were demanding his special attention.

Rye had opened a Door twice before, but in both cases he had chosen with his mind, not with his heart. Now, at last, he was free to do what the rhyme told him to do. He could choose for himself. And now that the moment had come, he was afraid.

He tore his eyes from the carving and glanced to his left, where his brothers stood in silence. Dirk was staring longingly at the golden Door. Sholto’s eyes were fixed on the silver. Rye could read their thoughts as clearly as if they had been spoken aloud.

Dirk was thinking that behind the golden Door he would find strong allies, plentiful supplies, horses and weapons to combat the Enemy. After rescuing so many injured children he was thirsting for revenge and longing for the chance to fight.

Sholto was brooding on his failure to find and destroy the skimmers that were being sent to ravage Weld. He was thinking that behind the silver Door lay the Enemy’s stronghold, where surely those skimmers must be. He wanted the chance to finish what he had begun.

And both brothers were bitterly regretting their promise to follow Rye through the wooden Door that for some reason had taken his fancy, but which led into the unknown.

Then Rye looked to his right, at Sonia. She was staring straight ahead. Rye followed her gaze, and was transfixed. He gazed at the sturdy old timber and mellow brass of the third Door, and a great longing rose in him, overwhelming his doubts.

Time to choose …

Sonia drew him close, and together they stepped towards the wooden Door. Dirk and Sholto moved with them. Rye was glad of it, but knew that even if his brothers had given way to their regrets he would not have faltered.