Emily Rodda - The Silver Door

And on Rye’s other side, separated from him by a swarm of prisoners who had abandoned the rope, was Dirk.

Moment by moment the swarm was shrinking.

Dirk was seizing the prisoners and swinging them high—up towards the hole in the grating, into the enormous hands of Bones. And Bones, his death’s head face grinning down through the gap, his impossibly long, thin arms pumping up and down like a tireless machine, was hauling one small, stocky figure after another out onto the roof.

‘STOP THEM!’ Brand’s voice, cracking with panic, echoed through the testing hall. ‘STOP THEM OR I SWEAR IT IS DEATH TO YOU ALL!’

Dirk was too intent on freeing the prisoners as fast as possible to pay attention. Sholto had his face pressed to the bars, with his back to the room. Sonia, limp with exhaustion, did not raise her head.

So it was only Rye who glanced round, and down, in the direction of Brand’s voice. Only he saw the grey-faced supervisor gliding rapidly between two of the huge, transparent cages on Brand’s balcony, and stretching out her hands to the black circles in the balcony shield.

Rye’s throat closed. ‘Dirk!’ he choked. ‘Sholto! Take hold—take hold of me! Make haste! Oh, make haste!’

The supervisor’s wrists turned. Clear round holes opened inside the black-rimmed circles. And in an instant, the cages on either side of her were empty, and the dusty air of the testing hall was alive with shrieking skimmers.

26 - The Attack

Screaming curses at the supervisor, Kyte leaped from the guards’ balcony roof and swung into the balcony itself, locking the door behind her. The guards still on the stairway howled and threw themselves at the door, beating on it to no avail. The guards dangling from the end of the rope howled too—but not for long. They were the first things the skimmers saw. In seconds they were gone, borne to the ground and overwhelmed by pale, flapping horrors. ‘Shut the grating!’ Rye heard Sholto bellow. There was a clang, and piteous screams from Chub and the others on the roof as Bones obeyed. Even in that moment of absolute terror Rye’s heart swelled with admiration for the brother who could think so clearly and quickly with death staring him in the face.

Of course the opening had to be sealed. Whatever happened in the future, Sholto was determined that his quest would not end with the skimmers escaping the building, killing the people on the roof, then flying on to ravage every living thing in the Scour.

And if Sholto had thought quickly, Dirk had acted just as quickly. With Bird, the only prisoner he had failed to free, tucked under one arm, Dirk had leaped to Rye’s side just in time to share the protection of the armour shell.

Half of the skimmers attacked the guards on the stairway. The other half flew at the ledge like furies, spurs dripping venom, needle teeth bared, mud-coloured eyes gleaming in the sun. Snapping and snarling, they dashed themselves against armour they could not see, attacking again and again.

The air was thick with them. The hideous flapping of their wings almost drowned out the screeching of the giant birds in the room beyond the bars—the iron bars that weakened the shell’s magic. Already Rye felt bruised. He knew that it would not be long before the buffeting of the skimmers’ wings and claws, combined with exhaustion and terror, caused one of his companions to lose hold of him and fall.

Pepper, perhaps—Bird—Sholto …. even Sonia, if Rye’s own strength failed for an instant.

He had to get them away. But if he used the feather to soar with them up through the flap in the grating and onto the roof, the skimmers would follow. It would be impossible to prevent it, once the beasts saw that the grating had a weakness.

If only he could distract them. If only there was a way to slow them, to confuse them …

He felt Sonia stir weakly against him. Into his mind floated a misty vision of the past—of his mother’s beehives, white and square, lining the honey hedge in the garden of the little house in Southwall, and Lisbeth in her beekeeper’s veil and gloves bending …

And suddenly the air was swirling with smoke—dense, white smoke.

For an instant Rye could not think where the smoke had come from. Then he realised what must have happened. Somehow Sholto’s smoke weapon must have survived the flood. Sholto had remembered it, and used it!

The smoke thickened. Rye’s eyes began to stream. He heard Dirk, Bird and Pepper coughing. The skimmers wheeled and slowed, shrieked in confusion, began weaving drunkenly away.

Now!

‘Hold on!’ Rye shouted, tightening his grip on Sonia.

And as quick as a thought, they were high up in the corner of the hall, pushing through the flap in the grating. And Bones, laughing like a maniac, was dragging them all out into the sun.

All but one.

‘No Wanderer,’ Bones croaked, his grin fading.

Rye’s stomach turned over.

‘Sholto?’ Dirk shouted, looking wildly around.

‘Not along with you, Wanderer weren’t,’ said Bones miserably. ‘Bones sees no Wanderer’s face in the hole, no Wanderer’s hand stretching up for aid. Still down below he be, it seems.’

The celebrating people on the roof fell abruptly silent. Chub buried her face in Pepper’s shoulder. Bird ran her fingers through her dust-filled hair. Dirk stood up, his face very grim. Only Sonia did not stir. Overcome by exhaustion, she remained huddled where Bones had gently laid her.

They peered down through the grating, into the testing hall. Already the smoke was thinning, but it still filled the whole upper part of the room, masking their view of the floor. The balconies were clouded. The ragged, flapping shapes of the skimmers were just visible below the level of the smoke, like shadows seen through a veil.

‘Did he fall?’ Chub quavered.

‘No!’ Dirk exclaimed, dropping to his knees and pointing. ‘There!’

Sholto was still standing on the ledge, right beside a gaping hole in the wall. He was facing out into the testing hall, and looking down. Rye felt a shiver run down his spine as he saw that his brother was smiling.

‘Come on, then!’ Sholto called, beckoning mockingly. ‘Here I am! Come and get me!’

Dirk cursed under his breath.

‘Ah, Spy’s Brother has lost his wits!’ moaned Pepper. ‘He is summoning the beasts!’

But Rye shook his head. He had seen movement on the balcony just below where Sholto was standing. A black shape was crawling up to the balcony roof, standing up.

It was Kyte. Her handsome face was cold with rage. She raised the black tube weapon and pointed it at Sholto.

‘NO, KYTE!’ Brand’s panicking voice echoed from the opposite balcony. ‘CAPTURE, NOT KILL! DO YOU HEAR?’

Kyte’s shoulder twitched, but she did not lower her weapon.

‘Your aim has been very poor so far this morning, Kyte,’ Sholto drawled. ‘Was the sun in your eyes? Or did it upset you to find your prisoners whisked out from under your nose?’

‘He is taunting her deliberately,’ Dirk muttered. ‘It is as if he wants her to fire.’

‘He might think that would be best,’ said Bird. ‘The smoke is thinning. The slays will soon be back.’

‘Don’t move, Vrett!’ Kyte snarled.

‘My name is not Vrett.’ Sholto’s smile broadened. ‘Have you not worked that out yet? You brought an imposter to the Harbour, Kyte. You carried me here in triumph, boasting of finding me, making it seem that you had tracked me from the shore. Who was going to question me seriously after that? I must thank you, most sincerely, for making my task so easy.’

‘Well you’ve shown your hand now, scum!’ spat Kyte. ‘And for what? For nothing! I’ll soon round up the rats you’ve released, and all their friends too. I’ll make them pay and pay for your treachery!’