Emily Rodda - The Silver Door

Not these skimmers, thought Rye. And his mouth went dry as he realised what was being done here, deep in the Harbour building. The Master was raising new generations of skimmers—skimmers that could live in light, attack in light!

Perhaps there were only a few of this new breed now—possibly this room held them all. But in time the numbers would increase to hundreds, to thousands!

Then they would be sent to Weld. And trapped inside their Wall, under attack that never ceased by night or by day, the people would be unable to do anything but huddle in their homes till the end came.

It would not take very long.

Mindful of the supervisor’s warning, Kyte was hurrying them through the room. Rye tried reaching out to Sonia in his mind but he received no answer. He looked for her, and saw her in the middle of the group of prisoners, not far behind him.

She was between Itch’s sisters, two dark, pretty girls who looked very alike. She was dragging her feet as if every step was an effort. Perhaps she had not even noticed the light, or the eyes of the skimmers.

Or perhaps she had noticed, and the horror had snuffed out the last spark of her fiery spirit. Of all the things that had happened on this dreadful night, Rye found that thought the hardest to bear. It seemed the end of everything.

Blindly he shuffled along with the other prisoners, paying no attention to his surroundings. Doors opened and closed. Everywhere the stench of skimmers mixed with the duller, earthier scent he now knew was jell.

Finally, at the end of a long passageway, the ropes binding his wrists were cut and he was pushed with the other captives into a dim grey cell containing nothing but a pile of thin mattresses, a bucket of water and a heap of bread. One of the round air vents was set in the ceiling, but like all the others it was covered by metal mesh, and was no bigger than Rye’s fist.

Kyte raised her grey tube. There was the familiar sound of a door sliding into place, but this time the door could not be seen. Only a slight shimmer across the doorway showed that the cell was sealed.

Kyte grinned through the invisible barrier. ‘Make the most of your last night, scum,’ she jeered. ‘I’m going to a meal far better than bread and water, and a well-earned rest. But never fear. I’ll be attending the slay test in the morning. I wouldn’t miss it for the world!’

Then she was gone, and the guffawing guards were gone also. And Rye and the other prisoners were left alone to try with all their might to break through the doorway, and to find there was no hope. The invisible seal was as strong as iron.

‘Surely Witch could shatter the magic,’ panted Chub, wiping her forehead. She made for Sonia, who was huddled in the shadows of the back wall of the cell.

‘She is not a witch!’ Rye exclaimed furiously. ‘How many times do I have to tell you? Leave her be! She can do nothing to help us!’

‘Then our only hope is to overpower the one called Vrett when he comes to examine us,’ said Bird, scooping water from the bucket and splashing her hot cheeks.

‘He won’t come into the cell,’ Pepper said in a low, trembling voice. ‘He’s a cold, careful creature—you can see it in his face. He’ll stand outside and make notes in his cursed little book.’

‘Then we’ll trick him— force him to come in!’ Bird spun round to Rye, water still dripping from her hands. ‘They’re more interested in you than in any of us, Spy. If you pretended to be sick or in pain …’

Bean grunted agreement. ‘He told that sour supervisor you weren’t badly hurt, Spy. It’d be on his head if you died. And it’s a wonder you’re on your feet, that’s a fact. That guard could’ve broken your neck.’

‘At least he g-got a kick in the b-belly for his trouble,’ Itch put in.

There were a few snorts of laughter. Rye said nothing. He could not remember kicking the guard. It seemed to him that all he had done was dangle helplessly, being shaken till his teeth rattled.

‘So is it agreed, Spy?’ Bird snapped. ‘You’ll play your part?’

Rye swallowed, and nodded. The plan was a good one—even better than Bird realised, for she did not know about the concealing hood hidden under the black coat. Now that his wrists were free, he could pull the hood over his head. Everyone could join hands and with luck he would be able to lead them all, invisible, to safety. The thought of luring Sholto into a trap made him feel hollow inside, but he knew he had no choice. He had to face it. Sholto was the enemy now.

‘Witch is sick, I think,’ Chub called in fright from the back of the cell. ‘Sick or in a trance! I can’t wake her!’

Rye’s stomach turned over. The little crowd parted for him silently as he hurried to Sonia’s side.

Sonia was lying very still. Her eyes were closed. Rye knelt beside her and took her hand. He murmured her name. She did not stir.

Sonia! he called to her in his mind. Sonia, wake! Please wake!

The girl’s eyelids fluttered. Slowly her eyes opened. Seeing Rye, she yawned, pulled herself up into a sitting position and blinked around, shivering.

‘Cold …’ she mumbled.

She had only been very deeply asleep, it seemed. Filled with relief, Rye pulled off his coat. As he wrapped it around Sonia, a tiny roll of paper slid from one of the pockets and dropped onto the floor.

Rye had checked the pockets of the coat when he had first put it on, and they had been empty. Since then he had added nothing except the hoji nuts he had been feeding to Snaffle the clink. Puzzled, he picked up the paper and unrolled it.

‘What is it?’ Sonia asked faintly.

‘A—a page torn from Sholto’s notebook,’ Rye stammered, squinting at the paper in the dim light. ‘Notes on what I look like. I saw him taking them. But how it came to be in my pocket I cannot—’

Then suddenly he remembered Sholto patting him all over, checking for breaks and strains.

He looked again at the brief notes. Then he saw it. And his heart swelled till it seemed that it would burst in his chest.

‘Read the first letter of each line,’ he whispered, thrusting the paper into Sonia’s hand.

Sonia looked at the paper. ‘L, A, T, E, R,’ she read slowly. Her eyes widened, and suddenly she shook herself, as if to banish the last effects of her exhausted sleep.

There was the soft sound of a door opening and closing. Measured footsteps began pacing along the hallway, towards the cell.

‘He’s coming!’ Bird hissed from the doorway. ‘For pity’s sake, Spy, lie down! We won’t get another chance at this!’

‘Hoy, you! Vrett!’ Itch bellowed. ‘C-come quickly! The spy’s sick! We think he’s d-dying!’

The footsteps broke into a run. Bird and the others shrank back to the sides of the cell as Sholto appeared in the glimmering doorway, his eyes searching frantically for Rye.

Rye stood up. Ignoring the shocked and furious cries of the other prisoners, he ran to his brother.

‘Sholto!’ he gasped, pressing his hands to the invisible barrier. ‘We thought you were dead!’

Sholto shook his head. ‘Rye, what are you doing here?’ he said furiously. ‘By the Wall, you have ruined everything!’

21 - Plans

It was not at all the greeting Rye had expected. As he stared at Sholto, aghast, he suddenly realised that he no longer had to look up to meet his brother’s eyes. He had grown taller since Sholto went away, and now they were almost the same height. Once this would have pleased him enormously. Now it merely added to his feeling of strangeness.