by Robin Bootle
His head dropped, weighed down with embarrassment. He’d totally misread her reaction.
‘But you’re right,’ she carried on, to his surprise. ‘I guess I was pretty hard on you last night.’
Now he turned, and as good as it felt to hear her recognise that, he held back his smile. He wanted to hear more.
‘You’re the one who got us out of there… It was my fault we were caught anyway. We could have gone back to the hut.’
‘Just like I said.’ He smiled at last.
‘Just like you said. I guess after you rushed in here I kind of took you for a…’
‘Rash, stupid, sixteen-year-old?’
‘Yeah, something like that. I underestimated you.’
‘Hardly,’ he conceded. ‘Entering Extropia is probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.’
‘Rash maybe, but not stupid.’
‘Friends, then?’ He stepped towards her and held out a hand.
For a moment she looked at his hand, frowning. Then she pushed it to one side. ‘Seriously?’
‘What? I thought…’
She laughed, her cheeks reddening. ‘Didn’t anyone tell you? Girls don’t do handshakes.’ She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, catching him completely off guard.
His body stiffened at first. His arms remained by his side. No one had held him like that for over a year. Full of uncertainty, he lifted his arms and placed them around her back. After a moment he squeezed, a warm buzz in his head.
Maybe being stuck here with her wouldn’t be so bad after all.
* * *
As they walked, he told her everything he’d found out about Dēofol. That Dēofol was the game’s evil tyrant, that he possessed an insatiable desire to see others miserable and that he would do anything to find the boy from the prophecy, to kill him and wipe out the threat to his reign. It seemed certain that Dēofol must have been the one who had found the Tartarus Stone and used it to orchestrate the attacks, just as Hound had suggested. It also seemed certain James could only have contacted them because Dēofol had allowed him to.
‘But why does he want you?’ Elizabeth asked.
‘Perhaps he discovered that James had a brother, another boy he needed to lock up, and that somehow I could only be found through the Tartarus Portal.’
‘Maybe,’ she replied.
‘But what about Hound?’ he asked. ‘Why would he go so far as to want to kill me? What difference does it make to him if Dēofol captures me?’
‘Maybe it was less about you, and more about Oriel and me. If Dēofol can attack the nation’s schools, maybe Hound’s worried about what he’d be capable of with two NCCU agents as leverage. No one would want to pull the plug on Extropia and be responsible for killing two of their own. All the while, Dēofol could cause chaos out there. I’m starting to think Hound might have had a point.’ She glanced at him apologetically. ‘That doesn’t mean he can go around trying to kill people, of course.’
They ambled on in silence, Edward lost in thought as he tried to digest everything he’d witnessed and work out where they could go from here. James was likely in a prison two days to the north, but a prison meant guards. Guards meant they needed help. And help was apparently the last thing they would get.
A little while later, the trees began to thin, and not far off he could see the long grass of the field. They approached cautiously, wary of the patrol they’d seen the night before. She motioned for him to stop as she scouted the trees on the far side. He was about to reach into his bag for his telescope when he gasped in disbelief. ‘Oh my God!’ he whispered, and before Elizabeth could ask what, he’d broken into a run.
‘Edward, wait!’ she called out after him, but he couldn’t stop himself.
Rabbits darted into the safety of their warrens as he burst into the field. The sky was clear, the afternoon sun beating down and creating a haze of pollen in the air above the long grass. A hundred yards ahead of him was Home Leigh Hut. Only now, with the light of day brightening its wooden walls, he could see it for what it was.
At the near end was a light wooden canopy covering a hand-pumped well. Neatly stacked logs reached as high as the canopy itself, and next to them were hung a number of torches like the one he had in his bag. The pump he pictured as a tap and the torches as lanterns for candles, helping it all come together in his mind. He jogged to the far side and found a small wooden table with four chairs. Behind it was an iron cauldron, something they could use as a barbecue. It was all just as it had been at their own, real life cabin. Windermere. Their homely hut away from home, as Mum had called it once.
A year of regret collected painfully as a lump in his throat. The last time he’d been there was a few weeks after she died. He hadn’t wanted to go but Dad and James had made him. He’d hated them for it, stubbornly and selfishly, when all they’d been trying to do was rebuild what was left of the family, trying to unite them over the one thing they’d always been able to rely on for happiness.
He went around to the front. Through the long grass he could see the glistening surface of a lake, just as he’d expected. He hadn’t seen it through the storm last night. And he was willing to bet that the Great Lady Windermere was sitting somewhere on the lake. Sure enough, through the long grass he could make out a weathered, brown hull.
He put his finger to his eyes to catch the gathered tears before they ran down his face. He lifted his head and sniffed hard and long, clearing away the sadness.
‘Edward?’ Elizabeth was beside him now. ‘What is it?’
‘It’s where we used to come every summer. James and I spent hours on the lake, in and around the water, playing in the boat and fishing. I fell in once, when we were both young.’ He could still remember so well the total panic that had overcome him. Arms flailing hopelessly as he began to swallow water. ‘Neither of us could swim but James jumped in after me, thinking somehow he could save me. Dad had to pull us both out in the end.’
She put her hand on his shoulder. ‘It’s been a hard couple of days. Why don’t you take a minute? Take a look around.’
He turned to her, his head fuzzy with happy memories and painful remorse, and for a moment he seemed to lose himself in her eyes. The anger that had filled them since they’d arrived in Extropia had been washed away. And in the full light of day it was as if they were shining, brought to life, and as green as the trees that bordered the forest.
‘It’s been tough, I guess,’ he whispered, not really paying attention to what he was saying. His stare lingered, but she didn’t look away.
‘Edward, are you okay?’
Not really, he thought. A rush of confused emotions overwhelmed his head. After all this time, finally someone was looking out for him. More than that, she was risking her life for him. He pictured himself drifting closer, his hands reaching for her hips. And before he knew what he was doing, he began to say, ‘You look…’ He stopped, swallowing his words. His face flushed red, bringing him back to his senses. There’s no way she’d be interested in you, he told himself, you’re far too young. ‘You look like you’re going somewhere?’
She glanced at the bow she’d removed from her back. ‘We need to eat. I’m going to see if I can remember how to use this thing.’
‘You’ve used a bow before?’
‘I had a lesson once. I did okay. How hard can it be?’
Hard, thought Edward. He too had been taught once, on holiday with his family. And he’d missed the three-foot-wide target, eight tries out of ten. ‘Maybe I should come with you,’ he suggested.
‘No, thanks. I’ve seen first-hand how stealthy you can be,’ she said with a smile.
‘Okay.’ He shrugged uncertainly as she turned and walked into the field. ‘I guess I’ll wait here.’ He faced the hut, anxious about what memories he might find, then stepped inside.
He studied the surfaces, the furniture, the position of everything in the cabin, and allowed himself to drift back. The hut began to transform. The fireplace shrunk a foot in every direction and an old iron guard appeared in front. The shelves where the spoons and bowls rested vanished into a wooden kitchen surface with a stainless steel sink. The dining table and chairs were in front of the fire, just as they had been in the cabin. The real life version had been modern, and fitted with a flat-screen in the corner. And instead of a mezzanine there was an entire second floor with two bedrooms and a bathroom.
He tried to picture them all sitting there. The four of them eating fresh fish caught from the lake. Talking and laughing like the family they’d been in the years before Mum died.
He pulled out one of the wooden chairs and sat facing the fireplace. No one had their own set places at the dinner table, but for some reason they almost always sat in the same seats. The fire would normally be blazing by this time of the evening, even when it wasn’t that cold, because they all loved the ambience. Sometimes James would leave the door open just to let the temperature drop.
He leant around and pictured James arriving there on the night of the accident. Standing in the centre of the room. Looking about and quickly realising the stone was missing. But how could it have been? he wondered. Supposedly, none of Extropia’s characters could access the hut.
Whatever had happened, James must have been terrified to leave the hut against Dad’s orders. His eyes flicked to the door as an idea came to him. If James had managed to get outside, there was only one way he could have done it.
Excited, he got to his feet, ran to the ladder and climbed two rungs at a time. Then towards the orange glow of the chest. Inside were one bow, one dagger, and two axes. Counting what he and Elizabeth had already taken, there were two of everything, except the staff and the sword.
His heart leapt into his throat as he realised that James must have stood right where he was now exactly a year before. James, like him, would surely have thought to arm himself with two weapons. And to leave he would have needed to be a mage.
He imagined the two of them together, peering into the chest, dressed in the same mage’s robes. James looking back at him in amazement and wonder, their adventure about to begin. Two brothers ready to journey through Extropia together to save the people and to defeat Dēofol. That was how it was meant to be, just like all the other games they’d played together, only better, more real. Too real, it turned out.
A regretful happiness welling behind his eyes, he climbed back down the ladder. Elizabeth must have been gone for over an hour, he reckoned. Concerned, he walked to the window and peered out. The sun was low, hidden somewhere behind the trees. He stepped outside and scanned the boundary of the field. He was about to call her name when he saw something, someone, move, just beyond the tree line.
He ducked back inside and closed the door. Whoever it was had been too big to be Elizabeth. Where the hell was she? If he called for her, he could give away both their positions. And if he went to look for her he would surely be spotted himself.
He crouched by the window and peered over the ledge towards the forest. Perhaps the man would turn away just long enough for Edward to make a run around the back of the hut to search for her there. But now he wasn’t sure if he was looking the right way. The man was no longer there.
What if the man had found her? What if she was being attacked?
Panicked, he gripped his dagger in his right hand, his staff in his left, and sneaked towards the door. The world beyond the hut seemed so silent, the calm of dusk hushing the birds and stilling the leaves.
But then the silence outside was broken.
Three thumps on the door, cool and steady.
11
The Son of the Skylar
‘Open up!’ The man’s voice was followed by three more thumps that rocked the door frame. ‘I must speak with you!’
A bead of sweat trickled down Edward’s temple, begging him to scratch, but he didn’t dare move a muscle. Without a sound the man appeared at the window, casting a giant shadow on the dusty wooden floor. Why had Edward been so convinced the hut was a safe house? Hasgard had declared no one could enter, but Edward was in no rush to see that theory put to the test. Surely the glass would break if the man took a log to the window?
He exhaled as at last the man straightened his back and walked towards the far side of the field. Edward’s whole body seemed to sink in relief. But now, with the imminent threat dispersed and able to think clearly again, he realised he might have made a terrible mistake.
He dashed to the door and fumbled to open it. ‘Wait!’ he called into the night. ‘Come back!’ He glanced left and right but the man was nowhere to be seen. He kicked at the grass. ‘You idiot!’ If the man had been out to hurt him, he would have tried to break down the door – unless he knew the door was impenetrable, in which case Edward could duck back inside the hut.
He walked a few paces into the field and was about to call Elizabeth’s name when a voice made him swallow his words.
‘He is looking for you, Edward. He knows you are here.’
The man’s voice was so close the shock nearly knocked Edward off balance. He spun and peered through the doorway, worried the man was already inside. ‘Who? Who knows?’
‘Dēofol. He will not rest until he has you.’
‘Where are you? Show yourself!’
‘Very well.’ From behind a tree, only ten yards from where Edward stood, the man stepped out.
Edward recognised him at once as the man from Force Crag whom he’d believed to be a warrior. The man was in his mid-thirties, tall and wide. His muscles bulged beneath his worn brown clothing. His hair was blond and long enough to be caught under the straps of the small bag that he carried on his back. On his back was a crossbow and on his left hip, a short sword. Strapped around both his thighs were bolts for his bow.
‘Is anyone else with you?’ Edward took a step back, glancing nervously about the field. As he did so, he saw an arrow loaded to a bow, only a few yards into the long grass and creeping towards the man. Elizabeth. ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked, now filled with confidence.
‘I am alone. I have come to help you,’ the man responded calmly, unaware that the sharp metal tip of Elizabeth’s arrow was seconds from his temple.
‘Just like you helped me before, in the mine?’
‘Who is he?’ Elizabeth emerged from the grass, making the man jump.
The man lifted his hands into the air. ‘Please, I mean you no harm! The Skylar has sent me to protect you, to help you find your brother.’
The heels of Edward’s feet raised an inch off the ground. ‘You know where my brother is?’
But Elizabeth was on the move again. The tip of her arrow was only three feet from the man’s forehead. ‘You didn’t help us back there. And now you sneak up on us. Give me one reason why we should trust you!’
‘Please!’ begged the man. ‘My name is Ivandell, from the village of Hawkshead where the boy’s brother is imprisoned. The Skylar came to me in a vision over a year past and instructed me to help you. He said that if a boy should appear in the hut, that this would be his son, the boy from the prophecy, and that I must help him!’
‘Who is this Skylar?’ she demanded.
Ivandell looked puzzled. ‘Our god.’ He frowned at Edward. ‘You are the son of the Skylar, are you not?’
‘Yes,’ Edward said instinctively, but quickly realising he probably was. It was quite possible that Dad had decided the boy from the prophecy should also be the son of the Skylar. ‘I am.’
‘Then by the Skylar, I swear, I am here to protect you!’
‘That’s not good enough!’ In one quick movement Elizabeth discarded her bow, drew her sword and lifted its tip to the man’s throat. ‘Why didn’t you help us earlier? You just s
tood and watched. Your friends could have torn Edward apart!’
‘The people are lost, my lady! They have suffered at the hands of Dēofol for too long. Their villages are burnt, their loved ones taken or killed. Now they trust no one. They are consumed by fear. I am sorry I did not help sooner. It has been so long since my dream. I never believed it real until I saw how Hasgard himself claimed to have seen you appear through the walls of the hut. That you were the boy! I had to follow you to see for myself. Only when I saw you enter, did I know. No one, not even Hasgard, can open its door.’
‘Your call, Edward,’ said Elizabeth. ‘This is your territory.’
He sighed at the relief of her offering to back down. ‘Praise the Skylar, I think we’ve found a guide.’
* * *
‘We still need food.’ Elizabeth pulled a small bird from her pocket, its head torn off where her arrow must have gone straight through. ‘I hadn’t gotten far when I saw Ivandell, creeping up on us.’
‘You shot that?’ Edward asked in disbelief.
‘One shot, one kill,’ she grinned. ‘Beginner’s luck, I guess.’
‘I think there may be more to it than that,’ he replied, but unwilling to speak about the game in front of Ivandell, he only went as far as saying, ‘I’ll explain later.’
‘I know a place where we can find food, back towards the mine,’ Ivandell offered. ‘It is too dark to hunt properly now but we can lay a snare.’
‘After all this, I think it’s best we stay together this time, right?’ asked Edward.
‘Fine,’ replied Elizabeth, ‘but Ivandell walks in front where we can see him.’
Edward nodded, and then went to unhook two more torches from the side of the hut. The three of them crept towards the tree line, Elizabeth watching Ivandell’s every move, her sword drawn. Once they were well into the forest and at least part hidden by the trees, Edward lit their torches using the matches he’d found in the hut.