Nothing happened. He tried again, this time willing himself into the space where he knew the barrier should lie, but around him was no light. The barrier hung around him in dark, ragged tatters.
What has happened? he wondered as he watched a cluster of wood sprites slip across into the realm of Light, each carrying a rabbit skin with which to disguise themselves once they reached the other side.
One of them stopped for a second and looked at him. “Quick! Get in there before they close it again,” he said, before scampering off after his friends.
Someone has damaged the barrier, Patrice realized with growing dismay.
And if there was no barrier, there was no need for warlocks.
He watched a pair of nains clatter over the divide. Evil little dwarves; part of the satyr family, with hooves instead of feet. Their high-pitched giggles disappeared into the night.
This needed to be fixed and quickly, by the looks of things. And as Grand Master of the brotherhood sworn to be the guardians of the barrier, it looked like it was a task that would fall to him.
Patrice lifted his arms and reached into the depths of his power. Slowly he started chanting the dark words that brought forth the aether. The ground started to tremble. Artifacts and chandeliers rattled, and suddenly a burst of energy surged up. It strummed and throbbed as it gushed along the remnants of the old barrier, filling in the gaps and repairing the rips. Patrice let his sight extend across the length of the barrier. He could almost feel every snag and flaw, as the energy he was exuding glided into place. But then he felt the barrier hit something large and very solid. A giant battleship, crammed into the space between the two realms.
He let the resistance give and a new wave of power surged up and spliced the ship in half. The ship exploded in midair and remnants of fuselage flew everywhere into both worlds.
His strength gave out and his legs buckled underneath him as he sank to the floor. He felt his palms press against the cool mosaic beneath him and he fought to steady himself. For a few long moments, all he could hear were his deep breaths, filling his lungs with much-needed air. Then laughter started to bubble up inside him. He threw his head back in triumph as he felt the energy of the barrier surge within.
“Oh, Eleanor, you are priceless,” he said, once his laughing fit had abated. It did not take much mental agility to figure out that she had tried to move something too large for her abilities through the divide. “An airship, of all things? What were you thinking, you stupid, stupid girl?”
The impact of the dirigible must have shortcut the system that held the barrier in place, and with it the whole thing had collapsed. Luckily it was only a temporary collapse, thanks to him. Patrice sat back and smiled. It was a most fortuitous turn of events. And what an opportunity it was—for now it was the Shadow Master’s power that maintained the barrier between Shadow and Light.
He now held the ultimate control.
“Excuse me, sir, are you all right in there?” Mr. Chunk knocked discreetly on the paneling.
“Fine, Mr. Chunk,” Patrice said, his mind still reeling with the implications of what he had just achieved. He struggled up from the floor, straightened his pajamas and stepped out of his sanctum.
“Mr. Chunk, prepare my toilette, please.”
“Sir? But it’s three o’clock in the morning,” Mr. Chunk said.
“It might be three o’clock in the morning here, Mr. Chunk, but it’s midday somewhere else in the world and I have much I need to do.”
“As you wish, sir,” Mr. Chunk said and stepped back to attend to his duties.
Patrice sat down in one of the leather wingbacks by the cold fireplace. With a flick of his wrist, bluish flames sprang from the ashes, filling the room with warmth. He smiled to himself with a deep sense of satisfaction. Oh what an opportunity this was indeed.
CHAPTER 20
Slowly Elle opened her eyes. The world drifted in and out of focus for a few seconds as her vision adjusted to the light. She saw an ant perched on a large green leaf, just inches from her nose. It was extraordinarily large compared to the ants she knew in England and it had reddish brown bands round its belly.
The ant rose up onto its hind legs and wiggled its antennae at Elle, tasting the air.
She frowned at it. What was this little creature trying to tell her? She was sure there was something she needed to remember, but somehow it all seemed too much of an effort. All she wanted was to close her eyes and drift back into the blissful darkness of sleep, but the ground beneath her was damp and cold, and the knobbly roots of trees were digging into her ribs.
No, she had to wake up. With great effort, she opened her eyes again. There were three ants on the leaf now. They all wiggled their antennae at her and she watched in fascination as a forth joined them—then a fifth.
The ants turned to one another and then back to her. It was rather comical as it looked exactly as if they were having a conversation.
Were they discussing the fact that a giant pink lump of flesh had just fallen from the sky? She could almost sense their excitement at her arrival.
Fallen from the sky …
The thought made Elle sit up abruptly as realization came flooding back. The world tilted and spun for a moment before it righted itself again. Then the pain set in. Every muscle and bone in her body ached. She looked down at herself. She was covered in mud, but her arms and legs seemed to be in working order. There didn’t seem to be any bleeding anywhere, which meant that she was definitely alive.
She groaned and rubbed the large lump on the side of her head. Something must have knocked her out on the way down.
Down where? Was she on the Light side or in the Shadow? It was hard to tell. She looked down at herself again. She was covered in leaves and bits of vine and other strange fragments of jungle debris, some of which looked suspiciously like cobwebs. Her limbs felt normal and not strange, like they did when she was in the Shadow.
This was the realm of Light, she was sure of it.
Above and around her there were only trees and plants. They stretched so high above her that she could not see the sky. Everything seemed to be alive and mobile in the steamy heat.
She checked her holster, but it was empty. Her gun. She needed it. With frantic movements, she started rooting through the undergrowth in search of it.
“I’d watch where I put my hands if I were you. Those are fire ants. If they touch you, you will know all about it,” Dashwood said from behind her.
She swiveled round to see him sitting on a log. “Captain! You’re alive.”
“Just about.” He touched the side of his head where the blood had dried into a dark crust. “What on earth happened?”
“Pirates broke into the bridge and started firing. The glass shattered and I think you were hit by all the stuff that flew about the cabin when the air rushed in. Then the Aeternae came on board. Heller gave the order to abandon ship and we crashed in the escape balloon.”
She did not want to start explaining the finer intricacies of exactly why they had been under attack in the first place, and she hoped Dashwood would be too concussed to ask.
Dashwood ran his hand through his blond fringe. “The rest of the crew?”
“Mr. Kipper was shot.” She shook her head.
Dashwood looked away. “Kipper was a good man. A bit maudlin, but a cracking pilot.”
“I think Heller got most of the crew out, sir. They took off in the gliders. With a little luck they should have made it to Bangkok.”
“And … the Inanna?”
Elle shook her head again. “The Aeternae were on board. Along with other pirates. There was a lot of shooting and fighting when we launched in the escape balloon.” Elle bit her lip. Now was not the time to tell the captain about the fact that she crashed his ship into the barrier. Every instinct was telling her to keep quiet about the Shadow realm for now. She would tell him later, if there was a later. Because at this moment they had far more pressing matters with which to concern thems
elves.
“You should have let me go down with her,” he said softly. “A captain should go down with his ship.”
“I did what I had to do. I wasn’t going to let anyone die unless I couldn’t help it.”
Dashwood leaned back and looked up at the tree canopy above them. He let out a low whistle as he scanned their surroundings.
“What?” Elle said as she followed his gaze. The trees were unbelievably tall and around them there was nothing but thick, lush jungle.
“I don’t think we could have chosen a worse place to crash if we tried,” he said.
“I don’t think it’s that bad.” She rose and started pacing about. “At least we are alive and mostly unhurt, which is quite something, given the circumstances.”
Dashwood let out a little laugh. “I suppose. I think how to stay alive is going to be the hard part. By my reckoning, the nearest civilization is about a day’s flight from here.”
“I’m sure if we walk a little we’ll find a way out of here. Let me see if I can find my bearings,” she said and started pacing toward one of the large trees.
Dashwood grabbed her elbow to stop her from walking. “You’ve never been in the jungle before, have you?”
“No, but I’m sure it’s just the same as everywhere else,” Elle said. “North is still north, isn’t it?”
Dashwood shook his head slowly, his expression serious. “We have no idea where we are and no idea in which direction we need to go. We also have no idea how long we were knocked unconscious after the crash.” He pulled his watch out of his pocket and studied the cracked glass. “And my watch is bust, so without the sun, there is no way of telling the time.”
“Fair enough,” Elle said. He was being annoyingly sensible. “So what do we do now?”
“Well, if we’re lucky, we will have been out cold for a short time only, which means it is early afternoon now. I’d suggest we try and sort out some shelter for tonight.”
He kicked aside a rotten log. It broke apart to reveal a myriad of crawling insects. “This place is full of critters. They are all hungry and we are the food. We are going to have to find somewhere safe to sleep where we won’t be eaten alive.”
Elle shuddered as she watched a very large, flat spider with long skinny legs skitter across the leaves. She really hated spiders and this place looked to be crawling with them. “You know what, for once, I think I agree with you entirely,” she said.
“We need to look for water. Try to make a fire. And if we make it through the night, we can do what we can about getting out of here.”
“Very well then,” Elle said. She studied the thick undergrowth. To her right, the jungle appeared slightly different. It was hard to tell for sure, but it looked as if the leaves of the plants had been crushed and some of the vines had been torn, like something large had passed through there. She pointed in the direction of the broken foliage. “We need to look in that direction.”
She set off before Dashwood could stop her again.
“Wait!” he said, and then she heard him stumble after her.
She pushed aside the vines and undergrowth as she followed the trail for about a hundred paces.
“What are you doing?” Dashwood said, coming up behind her.
“Look,” she said, pointing upwards.
Before them, about six feet off the ground, was their escape balloon. Or at least what was left of it. The canvas hung flaccid from a mass of tangled rigging chord and the basket was on its side, but intact.
Elle took a running leap up to the tree and grabbed the edge of the basket. She hung there for a few seconds before the whole tangled contraption collapsed onto the jungle floor. She had to duck to get out of its way as the canvas settled on the ground.
“Well, that’s handy,” Dashwood said, walking up to the basket.
“Would this be of any use?” Elle dragged the storm rider’s knife out from where it had become lodged in the wicker. Up close the bone-handled blade looked bigger than it had when it was in the Aeternae’s hand. The blade was long and broad and deathly sharp.
“Where on earth did that come from?” Dashwood said, examining it.
“One of those storm riders jumped into the basket with us on the way down.”
Dashwood stared at her, his surprise evident on his face.
“I shot him and managed to tip him out of the basket before he killed us both.” She shrugged. “Which reminds me—do look around to see if you can find my gun.” She pointed at her empty holster. “I think I dropped it while I was hauling the dead guy out the basket.”
Dashwood shook his head in amazement. “I think you have just doubled our chances of survival with this.” He held up the blade and examined its edge. “I vote we make camp here for tonight.”
“Agreed.” Elle slapped her neck where a large mosquito had settled. “And perhaps a fire to keep these biting insects at bay.”
“Ants and mosquitoes are the least of your worries,” he said. “This is tiger country and we need to do something to stop ourselves from becoming a tasty snack.” He lifted his coat to reveal his six-shooter safely tucked in its holster. “I am not so sure we’ll be able to stop a tiger with this, but at least we’ll be able to scare it away.”
“I’m not so sure we should be shooting at tigers at all, Captain,” Elle said. “We are in their home, not the other way round.”
Dashwood gave her a strange look.
“What?” she said.
“You know, you truly have a unique way of looking at the world. Has anyone ever told you that?”
She smiled. “A few.”
At that moment, the jungle responded with the most theatrical of gestures. Without any warning, fat, cool raindrops started to splatter on the leaves and ground. Harder and harder it rained until the deluge poured off their heads and shoulders, drenching everything in seconds.
Dashwood threw his head back and opened his mouth, sticking out his tongue to catch some drops in his mouth. “At least we have water,” he said after a few seconds of doing this. “Now lets try and clear a bit of space so we can make shelter. See if you can salvage some of those chords. We can cut the canvas of the balloon to make a tarpaulin and some hammocks. Stay here. I think I saw some bamboo a few paces that way,” he said and strode off through the undergrowth, with the storm rider blade at the ready.
Elle wiped the rain off her face and trudged over to the basket. Suddenly alone, the shock that had been nibbling at the edges of her nerves finally set in. She felt her whole body go numb and she started shaking as the enormity of the situation hit her. They were lost and stranded in the middle of an impenetrable jungle. One misstep and they would die.
She stood like that, staring at the basket, for a good few minutes, as the rain continued to splatter down onto her head.
Then she balled her hands into fists. No, I am not going to die here. I am going to live. And I am going to find the city of Angkor Wat so I can save Marsh. That is what I will do.
Her flight school training then took over and she reached forward and started to untangle the lines, winding them into neat bundles as she went. The rope was wet and made her fingers ache but she kept going, taking great pains to ensure that each skein of rope was perfectly wound. Somehow, maintaining standards out here seemed incredibly important.
“Here, let me help you,” Dashwood said from behind her. He dropped a bundle of bamboo logs that he had brought back. “We can use a few of those thick ones to carry water in. Let’s use the basket as a base,” he said as he flipped it over to form a sturdy platform.
“And how about we spread the balloon over those branches to act as a roof?” Elle added. “We can cut it into smaller bits once it stops raining.” Suddenly her mind started whirring with ideas as to what they could do, and a strange sense of exhilaration filled her.
They started pulling the canvas across the branches, tying the edges down with the chords, and soon the two of them were huddled under the makeshift shelter.
/> Dashwood built a little fire on top of the metal plate which formed the base of the basket. He piled up slivers of bamboo and a little bit of dry tree bark he had found. Carefully, he opened up a bullet and with the tip of the knife poured the gunpowder into the tinder.
“I thought we were saving those for shooting tigers,” she said.
Dashwood just smiled at her. “Do you want to be warm or do you want to go hunting?” he said.
“Warm. Definitely warm,” Elle said.
“Now all we need is one little spark,” he said softly, so as not to disturb the delicate kindling.
Elle sighed. She did not want to reveal more about herself to him, but this was a serious emergency. They needed fire.
“Here, let me,” she said. She closed her eyes and reached for a bit of aether she had stored. Gently she touched the gunpowder, focusing her energy at it. A tiny spark crackled off her fingertip and the gunpowder flared and lit the tinder.
Dashwood’s eyes grew wide. “How did you do that?”
Elle did not answer. She just smiled at him as she slowly fed the slivers of bamboo to the flames until it took.
Dashwood patted his throat and looked down.
“What is it?” she said.
“I seem to have lost my amulet in the fall,” he said. “Pity. It was most handy.”
“We’ll be all right without it,” Elle said.
“Do you know what? I think I am inclined to agree with you on that,” he said.
And so they sat, huddled in their smoky shelter as the world grew dark around them.
“Well, it’s not exactly the Ritz, but at least we are sort of dry,” she said.
“It’s going to be cold tonight,” he said.
Elle nodded. It wasn’t even properly dark yet and she was already feeling the chill of being wet creep into her bones.
“I’ll take the first watch, if you want to get some sleep,” he offered.
“Not that I’d be able to do much if anything attacked us,” Elle said. She listened to the many sounds of the jungle coming alive in the darkness.
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