by V M Jones
Far away over the sea the sky turned grey, then the purplish colour of an old bruise. Purple shaded to pink, then gold, a pearly whiteness, and finally the clear blue of a new day. We could see the forest spread out below us now like a nubbly black carpet. Somewhere, hidden deep among the trees, was the road to the north; and somewhere on that road, growing closer, closer with every minute that passed, were the Faceless. I could feel them.
Though the sun hadn’t yet risen, the tiny clouds over the sea were lit from beneath like bright slits in the sky. I realised the path had disappeared — we were moving through rough tussock along the foot of the sheer cliff that reared endlessly above us.
Without slowing his pace, Rich pointed. My heart lifted. Far away to our left, indistinct in the morning mist, but unmistakable, was the walled city of Arakesh. We broke into a run, Tiger Lily and Weevil bounding along beside us. Panting, staggering under Hannah’s weight, I saw the clouds had turned crimson and the first brilliant rim of sun had crept over the horizon, turning the sea to blood.
Rich stopped so suddenly I almost cannoned into him. His face was rosy from the glow of the rising sun, but bleak with despair. ‘Look,’ he said in a hollow voice. ‘There — to the left of the city. Between the edge of the forest and the city walls …’
I saw them, and my heart turned to ice. They were pouring from the shadows of the distant trees like ants, flowing towards us over the open ground in a tide as swift and unstoppable as the sea. They were almost too far away to see, too far away to count … and the forest still lay between us. But they were coming — and coming fast.
We stumbled on. The sun wrenched itself from the sea and leapt free into the sky. Birds began to sing.
And there it was at last. The standing stone. The low, moss-covered rock. The entry point to Karazan — and the gateway between the worlds. It was here somewhere. But where?
‘It has to be the stone,’ Rich panted; ‘it’s got to be!’ The standing stone reared up in front of us, its pitted surface pink in the glow of the sun. It was the size and shape of a door, with a rounded top like an arch. If you imagined a magical portal, the standing stone was exactly how you’d expect it to be.
‘You’re right — it must be.’ Jamie advanced on the stone with an enquiring, scientific air, and rapped on it with his knuckles. ‘Ouch!’ he said, sucking them. ‘It’s solid rock, that’s for sure.’
I walked all round it, examining every millimetre. Looking for something — anything — any clue as to how it might open. ‘A doorknob,’ I muttered, ‘a rune — a sign of some sort …’
‘Maybe there’s a password,’ suggested Gen hesitantly. ‘Like open sesame, or something?’
Jamie stood in front of the stone, his back to the sun. His shadow stretched tall on the surface of the rock, looking very imposing. He reached up both arms and said impressively: ‘Open sesame!’
Nothing happened.
Weevil chattered anxiously and turned to face downhill, in the direction of the forest. It was too soon, no matter how fast they were moving, but I knew he was watching and listening for the first signs of the Faceless. He looked up at me, chittering; then hopped away to the edge of the forest and scampered up the trunk of the nearest tree. Hard, nut-like fruit pattered to the ground, autumn leaves drifting down like butterflies — and moments later there was a rustling in the upper branches, and his furry head popped out of the canopy. ‘Looks like Weevil’s on lookout,’ I said to Rich. ‘Good thinking, Blue-bum!’
‘I know!’ said Kenta excitedly. ‘There’ll be a clue on the map — or even on the old parchment, like before!’ Her hands shaking with excitement, she hauled them out and we unrolled them, our hearts in our mouths.
The parchment was blank.
‘The map …’ More of the map had been revealed by our progress — much more. Rainbow Bridge was marked — and best of all, the Cliffs of Stone — there was even an oval for the standing stone, and a tiny circle for the mossy rock. There wasn’t so much detail anywhere else — it must be significant! And it meant we were definitely in the right place.
But there was no mention of a portal, or how to open it.
‘Think, everyone — think! We haven’t got much time …’
My mind was racing — in circles. Portal … where had I heard that word before?
The others moved round the rock, pressing, tapping, muttering who knew what. Jamie was over at the mossy stone, trying to peer under it, his bum in the air. Tiger Lily was soaking up the morning sun, completely unconcerned.
It was something to do with last time … it must have been. Last time we’d been to Karazan … or that first time, on my own …
Yes! It was on the porch of Argos and Ronel’s cottage! I’d overheard them talking — but what was it they’d said? I racked my brains. Something about the fourth span, whatever that was, and the portal — though I’d thought they just meant some dumb gate in Arakesh — and sunbalance. That was it: You know as well as I that it is not until sunbalance that the portal opens, and that is eight moons hence …
The others were standing in a semicircle round me, staring at me. I must have been talking aloud … and by the looks on their faces, they’d not only heard what I said, but understood what it meant. The end of the road.
Jamie spoke very slowly. ‘So the portal only opens at one particular time of year: sunbalance, whatever that is. That was eight months away when we were last here — just over two months ago.’
Rich’s face was very grim. ‘You don’t need maths extension to work that out. The portal will open in four months — and that’s four months too late for us.’
‘Five and a bit,’ said Jamie automatically, looking sick.
‘So we’re trapped,’ Gen whispered.
Suddenly there was a screeching alarm call from Weevil’s tree — a shrill jibbering shriek. ‘They’re coming! Quick — hide!’ hissed Rich. I looked wildly round for some kind of shelter — but we were pinned against the cliff face like animals at bay, with no hope of escape.
Branches were swaying wildly as Weevil swung through the canopy, downhill and away from us, towards our pursuers. Kenta and Gen were huddled in the deep shadow behind the standing stone, Hannah between them, trying to shield her with their bodies. Jamie was clearly visible behind the smaller rock, which didn’t even begin to conceal him. Rich faced the forest, fists clenched, teeth bared in a snarl of defiance. He wasn’t going down without a fight.
I saw the first grey shadow between the tree trunks; then another, and another. They must be running, but to me they seemed to be drifting towards us as silently and swiftly as dead leaves blowing in the wind. Nothing would stop them now.
There was chittering shriek and a commotion in the forest canopy, as if the upper branches were being rocked and shaken. Weevil — but what was he doing?
And suddenly the grey figures were slowing, weaving, slipping, sliding — falling. Weevil was swinging through the trees ahead of them, shaking the branches so the hard nuts fell on the Faceless like hailstones, turning the forest floor into a sliding mass of rolling marbles. The cloaked figures hissed with rage, ducking away from the missiles firing down at them, their arms raised above their hooded heads to protect them. But still they came on. I turned blindly away, my only thought to join the girls and somehow protect them — even though I knew it was hopeless.
And then I saw Tiger Lily. She was walking daintily towards the rock where the girls were crouching … and past it, into the deep shade. There was something purposeful the way she was moving … something that made me watch her.
She headed straight for the cliff face, to where the shadow of the standing stone cast a stark black rectangle on the rock’s surface. Walked into it — and vanished.
I stared. And then, in a blinding second of clarity, I knew.
The portal wasn’t the standing stone. It was its shadow — the shadow cast on the cliff by the rising sun, the size and shape of an arched doorway. Except it wasn’t the size of a d
oor any more — it was knee-high, and shrinking fast as the sun rose. Soon it would be gone.
‘Kenta, Gen — to the cliff! Quick — run!’
I grabbed Hannah by the arm and dragged her to where Tiger Lily had disappeared. Threw her at the narrow opening, hearing Kenta’s shocked gasp … but the portal swallowed Hannah without a trace. Gen and Kenta goggled at each other, then bent and squeezed through into the darkness.
‘Jamie!’ I yelled. ‘Over here!’ He crawled towards me from his hiding place on hands and knees like a pull-along toy, and scuttled straight into the opening at the speed of light.
Rich was still standing with his back to us, frozen like a boxer with fists raised, watching the Faceless advance. With every second the distance between them was closing — and so was the portal. ‘Rich!’ I shouted. ‘Come here! We’ve found it!’ He half turned, the grim determination on his face giving way to confusion, baffled disbelief —and the beginning of hope. I dropped onto my stomach and wriggled through the opening, feeling the weight of the warm rock above me, then squirmed round, peering through the gap, screaming ‘Rich! Weevil! Run — before it’s too late!’
At last Rich’s face cleared. With the first grey shapes almost on him, he wheeled and pelted for the cliff. But the portal was almost closed — he wasn’t going to make it! He was at the standing stone, then past it into shadow, arms pumping, breath rasping, the Faceless on his heels. A hand reached out for him, clawing at his cloak —
He launched himself forward into the air in a desperate, skidding dive, arms outstretched, and slid halfway into the opening. I’d ducked away into the darkness to give him room, but now I saw he was stuck fast, the weight of the cliff pressing down on him, inching lower, lower with every second …
Rich struggled and thrashed, his legs kicking frantically on the ground outside, his fingers tearing at the ground in front of him for grip … but he didn’t budge. Then suddenly he lay still. He looked up at me, his face ashen: one desperate, pleading glance. ‘Adam … my ankle … they’ve got me …’ He buried his face in the ground with a moan of despair.
Then I was on my feet — bending to grab his wrists — flinging my entire weight backwards with strength I never knew I had. For an endless moment nothing happened; then Rich shot through the gap like a cork from a bottle. I landed flat on my back with my breath knocked out and Rich sprawled on top of me like a sack of potatoes.
Struggling for breath I shoved him off and was back at the opening in a flash. I squeezed my cheek against the cold earth floor and squinted out … into a confusion of swirling grey cloaks, as if a choking, stifling fog had descended on the world outside. A whisper of fabric flicked through the tiny gap, brushing my skin like the breath of a corpse, reeking of death and decay. Coughing and retching, I rolled away, my hands over my face.
Someone was shouting, over and over again, his voice hoarse and echoing: ‘Blue-bum! Blue-bum!’ Someone was sobbing.
The last sliver of light vanished, and we were in total darkness.
Through the portal
‘Where are we?’ Gen’s voice, small and frightened.
‘At Quested Court?’ suggested Rich.
‘No.’ Hannah was very definite. ‘It doesn’t smell like home.’
‘Maybe we’re in some sort of limbo.’ Jamie was the only one who sounded remotely cheerful. ‘A kind of world-between-the-worlds?’
‘What about Weevil?’ My voice sounded strangely flat.
There was silence before Jamie spoke: ‘He was way up in the trees. They’ll never catch him.’
‘I expect he’ll go back to Chattering Wood and join the others,’ Gen said hopefully. It’s probably all for the best. How would we ever have explained …’
A small hand snuggled itself into mine. ‘Don’t be sad, Adam. You did your best. It wasn’t your fault.’
‘Yeah — it was you who found the portal. And pulled me through.’
‘No! Tiger Lily found it first … but Adam found it second.’
‘Looks like you were wrong about it only opening at that sunbalance-whatsit time, Adam. Luckily for us.’
A huge weariness was settling over me like a lead blanket. It was true — we’d all done everything we could. Nothing could be done about Weevil, though the knowledge made me sick at heart.
For the time being at least, we were safe. I rummaged in my pack and found my torch; flicked the switch, and played the dim beam round the darkness. We were in some kind of a cavern. Apart from the torchlight, it was completely dark, and utterly silent.
Gen yawned. ‘I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m exhausted. I feel as if I’ve lived a hundred lifetimes in the last two days — and we’ve hardly slept. Can’t we rest for a while, and worry about where we are later?’
So we snuggled down together in a nest of sleeping bags, Tiger Lily’s rhythmic purring a lullaby rocking us almost instantly to sleep.
I opened my eyes to the dim glow of daylight. It must have been night when we arrived … wherever we were. I untangled myself from the others, trying not to disturb them, and sat up, staring round.
We’d fallen asleep at the back of a cave the size of a small room. Behind us — where we’d come from — was a wall of rock, smooth and featureless. There was no sign of an opening anywhere. The floor was bare earth, cool and slightly damp to the touch. There was a faintly musty smell. At the far end of the cave was what looked like a narrow passageway, a fissure in the rock …
It was the source of the light. I clambered out of my sleeping bag and crept towards it, wondering whether to wake the others. I squeezed through and found myself in a larger chamber, with a huge boulder almost blocking the entrance. There was a gap at the top where a shaft of bright sunlight beamed through. If I jumped and grabbed the ledge with my hands, I could pull myself up onto the other side. Then I’d come back and report to the others.
I padded across the floor; readied myself; jumped, and grabbed. For a moment my hands slipped, then with a grunt and a heave I was up and through, rolling out into a tangle of thorn bushes. I struggled free, twigs catching in my ragged clothes; then staggered to my feet, squinting in the bright light.
My mouth dropped open. I knew where I was. I rubbed my eyes, certain I must be dreaming … then took a few uncertain steps forward to where the ground dropped away into the valley, knowing what I would see.
There below me was the familiar roof of Highgate, patched and peeling in the morning sun. There were the smudged windows with their ragged, threadbare curtains drawn untidily across; the shrubbery; the tall white gate; the concrete porch.
I could even smell breakfast — the stodgy smell of lumpy porridge and the tang of burnt toast. My head spun.
I heard the distant sound of a car engine, coming closer. It roared up to the white gate and stopped. A figure climbed out and opened the gate, and the car drove through. The wheels crunched on the gravel drive. If it had been Q and Shaw, or even King Karazeel in a stretch limo, I’d hardly have been surprised. I felt like nothing would surprise me ever again. But it did.
Three figures — two policemen and a policewoman — got out and climbed the steps to the front door. Stood there for a moment, shuffling papers. Police — at Highgate? A hand reached out for the doorbell. I could hear the sound clearly in my mind, a sound I’d known all my life — the faint wheeze, then the off-key boing of the broken bell.
There was a long pause before the door opened a crack. I knew who it would be — Matron, her thin face tight with suspicion. She didn’t like unexpected guests. Perched high on my rock, I felt myself grin. She’d like these ones even less. They’d be out on their ears in no time flat.
I was wrong. The door opened further, and they disappeared inside. I waited a few minutes, eaten up by curiosity. What could have happened? Who’d called the police? Could it have been Matron? And why? But time dragged by, and they didn’t come out. I should go back and see if the others were awake — they’d panic if they woke and found one of us
gone. I started to turn … then froze as the door opened again. Stared down with my mouth open as the police escorted Matron to the car and ushered her inside.
Then the doors slammed shut and the police car drove away down the hill, the growl of its engine dwindling into silence.
Epilogue
I walked slowly down the wide staircase of Quested Court. I knew the way.
My hair flopped into my eyes, soft and smelling of shampoo. My jeans felt stiff and tight after my loose leggings. My stomach was stiff and tight, too, from non-stop eating — but that felt great.
I stopped for a moment on the landing, looking down, remembering …
The reaction of the others when I told them where we were, one wild theory following another, till eventually Jamie’s was pronounced the most likely: ‘You found the portal, Adam — so it took us to your home. Magic’s logical, like Kai says — but who ever said it was convenient?’
Gen’s wail: ‘Never mind why we’re here — how do we get back to Quested Court?’
Hannah’s reply, matter-of-fact to her; unbelievable to me: ‘In Q’s helipocter, of course.’
Me, in a croak: ‘But … who’ll drive it?’
And Hannah, with the air of one stating the obvious: ‘The helipocter pirate.’
Sneaking past the tall white gates of Highgate, ducking low so no one would see us, fighting a crazy urge to giggle …
The curious looks of passers-by as we waited at the phone booth to make the reverse-charge call to Q; how they’d nudged each other and avoided our eyes … all except one little girl about Hannah’s age, who skipped up to us and chirped, ‘Can I play too?’