Emily Rodda: Isle of the Dead

Abruptly the slope became steeper. And then, without warning, the rough rock beneath Lief’s hands and knees changed to a surface as slippery as ice.

With a shout of warning he slithered forward. He could not stop himself, could not even slow. When at last he came to a halt, he desperately rubbed his watering eyes, trying to focus. He could hardly believe what he was seeing.

He was not far from the peak of an island that looked as if it was made of shining glass. There was not a tree or a bush or a blade of grass to be seen. Every surface was hard, smooth and slippery. Every surface blazed in the sunlight.

And every surface seemed to vibrate with the terrible, low ringing of the Sister of the West.

Lief lifted his eyes to the island’s peak. A huge cave gaped there—the only dark spot in all that world of glittering light.

There was the source of the sound. There the Sister lay hidden. He knew it without question.

Slowly and carefully he stood up. He looked down and his head swam. Far below him a great mat of seaweed drifted like a blot of ink in an ocean of brilliant blue, and creamy foam swirled among the jagged rocks of the shore.

He heard voices and turned. His companions were picking their way towards him, Kree flying slowly above their heads.

Only then did Lief remember the baby dragon. With a feeling of dread he lifted the flap of his pocket and peered inside. But the banging and jolting of his slide to the island had not disturbed the baby at all. It was curled up, breathing peacefully, fast asleep.

Barda and Jasmine reached him. Both were squinting in the glare, and both looked exhausted, as though already the place was draining their strength.

No doubt I look the same, Lief thought. And we have only just begun.

An overwhelming wave of despair rolled over him.

‘I do not know why we are here,’ he muttered. ‘Without a dragon to aid us, we cannot win. And there is no escape for us now.’

Jasmine and Barda looked at one another. Then Barda took Lief’s arm, turned him around and pointed towards the ground.

Lief shaded his eyes and looked. And there he saw, not two steps from where he was standing, a flat grey stone jutting from the glittering rock. It was a warning stone very like those they had seen in the east and the north, though more pitted by the weather and bearing a different verse.

Lief turned away from the dread thing, gritting his teeth. ‘I am a fool!’ he muttered. ‘Of course there would be a warning stone here, as there was in the east and the north! How could I have let it take me unawares, and cast me into despair?’

‘Do not blame yourself for that, Lief,’ Jasmine said restlessly, glancing at the standing stone then quickly looking away. ‘All along this quest has felt different from our times in the east and the north. For one thing, we have not been troubled by the guardian of the Sister of the West—if indeed there is a guardian at all.’

Lief made no reply. He had his own grave ideas about the guardian of the west, but he did not wish to speak of them. He did not want to think what they might mean.

Gingerly, their boots slipping dangerously on the treacherous rocks, the three edged past the grim stone and began to climb towards the peak.

It was slow and perilous work, and every moment it grew harder as the evil power streaming from the cave above grew stronger, pressing them down. Kree fluttered awkwardly ahead of them, his feathers ruffled, making no sound.

They stopped to rest on a flat rock that shone like a mirror. Her face strained and white beneath the streaks of ash and blood, Jasmine ran her hand over the glossy surface.

‘It is almost as if this has been painted with something clear, like lacquer—painted many, many times,’ she said, plainly trying to occupy her mind with something that did not fill her with fear. ‘I am sure there is ordinary rock deep beneath this surface. When you look closely, you can see it.’

‘Why would anyone paint rock?’ Barda grunted, wiping sweat from his furrowed brow. ‘Jasmine, I have been thinking of what you said—about there being no guardian of the west. Has it not struck you, that Ava, who was to be so helpful to us, according to her brother, nearly killed us twice?’

Barda had voiced Lief’s secret thoughts. Lief’s heart sank. He stared down at the blue sea crawling far below. He noticed idly that the drifting mat of seaweed that had looked like an ink-blot was gone, and wondered what had become of it.

‘First, Ava gave us a boat that sprang mysterious leaks in the middle of the channel, so we nearly drowned,’ Barda went on. ‘Then she sent us to the scarlet island without breathing a word of the flesh-eating horrors that infest it.’

Jasmine frowned.

‘Indeed,’ Lief said reluctantly. ‘I fear we must accept it. Either Ava is not what Tom thinks she is, or—’

‘Or Tom himself is as much a servant of the Shadow Lord as his brother and sister,’ Barda broke in heavily. ‘And to me this seems the more likely. Ava let slip that all three of them share minds. Surely, if she had joined Jack on the dark side, Tom could not help but know it.’

He was right. Lief knew that he was right. But he did not want to believe it. With all his heart, he did not want to believe it!

Jasmine’s eyes darkened. ‘If Ava is the guardian of the west, then she must sense we have reached the Isle,’ she said. ‘And that means—’

Then suddenly, Kree screeched—screeched wildly, rising into the air, his beak gaping wide.

The companions scrambled to their feet in alarm.

And saw, clambering up the glittering rocks towards them, a huge, gold-brown beast with flippers for forelegs and a great mane of loose, flabby strips of skin, pimpled and mottled like seaweed.

The fins of the beast’s mighty tail lashed the rock. Its thick blue tongue, furred with bristles, lolled from its cavernous mouth. Where it crawled, it left a trail of silver slime, glistening in the sunlight.

Its tiny eyes looked up at the companions, burning with fury. Its terrible mouth opened wider, and it roared.

‘Climb!’ Barda bellowed. ‘Climb for your lives!’

18 – The Sister of the West

Up, up they climbed, hands grasping frantically, feet sliding and slipping. But the beast was close behind them, heaving its vast body effortlessly over the shining rock. Its roars were thunderous in their ears. The smell of it—the dank odour of the sea—filled their nostrils. Again and again its long, bristled tongue shot out, slapping at their heels.

‘It is sorcery! Ava—in another form!’ Barda shouted.

‘No,’ Lief panted. ‘It was in the sea—as we approached Ava’s shop. I thought—it was seaweed. Ava was inside then—sitting by her fire.’

Kree was diving at the monster’s head, snapping and screeching, golden eyes ablaze. But the beast was paying no attention. It did not try to snatch Kree from the air, did not falter for a moment. Its rage-filled eyes were fixed on those who had dared to set foot on its territory, who had dared climb its rocks, glazed by the hardened slime of centuries.

The companions’ chests were aching. Their minds were blurred by pain and fear. Above them loomed the darkness of the cave, and from it streamed the evil power that every moment weakened them.

At the cave mouth the chase would be over. At the cave mouth they would have to turn and fight.

But they could not win. They all knew it. The song of the Sister of the West would beat them to their knees. The rage of the beast would overwhelm them.

Lief hauled himself up onto the broad ledge that lay before the cave. He heard Barda and Jasmine clamber up beside him. He struggled to rise, fumbling for his sword.