Eli sits back, staring down at his hands, and Lowri senses the brooding disquiet clouding his mind.
‘A witch can command light and shadow magic, or so Isaiah believed,’ Hellius says, accepting a drink as he avoids their eyes. ‘Would you say that’s true?’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ Lowri says with a tight smile, thoughts lingering on her cousin and what he has just learned. How it will torment him, if he allows it to do so. She leans close to Ethlet and murmurs, ‘As soon as we’ve answered their questions, I think it’s time to leave.’
‘Talk to me,’ Lowri murmurs as they step out of the Society building, the sound of those tinkling bells ringing in her ears. The Society had so many questions for her and Eli about their world. About the geography, creatures and about witches. Lowri found herself answering more and more, while Eli slumped in his seat, shrinking in on himself.
Eli sighs, gesturing to the Society building. ‘They have such a grasp of the science of magic in this world,the individual strands of light and dark, the research … Think of the advancements we could make if I couldjusthave more time here. But if what Hellius says of light magic is true …’
‘Then we have to leave right away,’ Lowri says.
‘Or we may be stuck here like my father,’ Eli agrees as Ethlet leads them through the streets of Fallow. ‘I want a couple of hours in my father’s study in case he made any notes, in case Hellius did not have the full information, but be ready.’
They leave Fallow after dinner, heading for the graveyard. Ethlet chatters in a ceaseless stream to fill the heavy silence. Eli has several of his father’s journals stashed in his jacket, and that will have to be enough. They’re not sure if he’ll be able to step between worlds with any more of them, in case they too are suffused with shadow, soaking up light magic like the fog above, or simply too heavy a weight to carry between worlds, like an anchor, dragging them back. Travelling between worlds is so new to him and, as Lowri points out, if it works, then perhaps he will be able to return for the rest of them in time. When they reach the graveyard, he places a hand on his father’s gravestone, turning his face from them. Lowri’s heart twists as Eli says a quiet goodbye to the man he never had the chance to meet. Then he steps away, eyes leaden, and takes Lowri’s hand.
Ethlet hangs back after they say their goodbyes. Then Eli murmurs quietly and a doorway appears. Lowri sighsin relief as somewhere else begins to take form beyond, a place other than the graveyard coming into focus. A room becomes visible on the other side of the doorway.
‘Strange,’ says Eli. ‘I thought of Mira, focused on walking to her, but that doesn’t look like her room in Ennor Castle. Nor anywhere else on Ennor.’
Lowri steps closer, examining the space: a sparsely furnished room with a small window looking out on to blue sky. Then Mira appears. Exhaustion marks her features, her hair is tied back in a messy plait, fighting leathers encasing her body. Lowri holds her breath as Eli reaches out for Mira and she looks up, her eyes flaring wide. She forms his name with her lips, leaping across the room … only to slam into the doorway.
‘No … what?’ Eli says, placing his hands on the doorway, muttering curses as he tries to push his way through. But it’s as though there is a physical barrier between them and Mira. Lowri covers her mouth with her hands as Mira places her palms against Eli’s, crying now in earnest. Eli grows frantic, banging on the doorway, calling her name. But they can’t hear Mira. And it slowly dawns on Lowri that Mira can’t hear Eli either. Eli stills, placing a palm flat on the barrier between them as Mira places hers on her side, aligned with his. They stare at each other, desperation and longing so keen, so raw, it nearly rips Lowri’s heart out.
Then guards flood Mira’s room.
Wearing scarlet jackets, just like the watch, they grab Mira’s arms, pulling her away. She opens her mouthwide in a roar, tackling one to the ground, kicking away another, straining to get back to the doorway Eli created. But more take hold of her, trying to yank her away. Eli slams into the portal, over and over, bellowing, shouting …
‘Mira! Mira, fight them! You have to fight back!’
But smoke and shadow coils, blotting the room out completely as the doorway fades, leaving only her eyes, full of fear, her mouth shaping the words,I love you, before she disappears completely.
Eli tries summoning a portal again. Then again. He pulls the books, his father’s notebooks from his pockets, throwing them on the ground that focuses once more. Lowri watches, heart in her mouth as he braces his fists against the swirl of smoke, the only thing he can conjure. Eventually he stops trying, his shoulders shaking as he stares at the space where the portal was. ‘Mira’s in danger. They’ve captured her. And I can’t do anything. I couldn’t help her. I … This has never happened before. I don’t understand. I don’t …’
Fear grips Lowri in an unyielding fist as Eli turns slowly towards her. ‘I can’t form a portal, Lowri. I can’t get us back.’
my sobs rattle in mychest as I’m dragged away by the guards, panic bleating in my ears. All I can think is that Eli can’t get back. He and Lowri can’t get back from his father’s world. They are trapped there. And there’s nothing I can do about it.
I find a hand gripping mine as we’re escorted to the arena for the second Trial, ten days after the first, and I cling to it. It is the only anchor in a sea of what is fast becoming hopeless. All I can see is Eli’s face as he stood on the other side of that portal, trying to break through, his panic, the growing realisation that he could not step between worlds and come back. And Lowri, standing behind him, fingers covering her mouth, tears streaming down her cheeks … Are they hurt? I couldn’t tell. I could only see them, and the trees surrounding them. The place Eli showed me the night before he left our world entirely. What I can’t figure out is why. Why can’t he step back? Is it something holding him there? Or worse … Is his magic no longer strong enough?
Kell murmurs quietly the whole way to the arena, trying to calm me, trying to wrench me from my own mind, from the swift spiralling descent of my thoughts, and into the present. But as we reach the tunnel, the guards prodding us forward, I’m still shaking. I have to forget Eli’s face, his panic, or I will be distracted. And I will not survive the second Trial. There is a part of me that’s been waiting for Eli to rescue me, to return and make everything all right. But seeing him trapped there, beyond my reach, I realise he cannot save me now. Not this time.
It’s time for me to save myself.
Sember and Heath walk out into the arena first to the roar of an almighty crowd. We walk out in ranking order of the first Trial, with Sapira, the lone contender from Stanvard at the back, chin held high. Soturi and Fey are just ahead of Kell and I, representing the Spines, with the Leicenan contenders, Elséne and Oliette, behind us. I’ve found them to be very quiet, keeping largely to themselves at the events and parties thrown at court to show us all off. Pascha, the remaining contender from the Middenwilds is notably absent. He must have dropped out, forfeiting any possible victory, or maybe he never found a piece of treasure himself and was eliminated. I wish now that I’d asked, but I was too focused on making allies and trying to escape this place. And now all I’ve been thinking of is Eli’s arms surrounding me again, of setting Agnes free. My stomach twists, remembering Pascha’s face after the first Trial. His devastation.
We walk out to the spatter of spring rain. I tilt my face upwards. The clouds are a dome over the arena, squat and sluggish. There is no wind, no movement in the sky, and I lick my lips, assessing the terrain. It could become slippery, and my footwear is not designed to grip. All my scheming, all I have learned about the ruling council’s plans beyond the Trials, has left my head. I can only think about Eli. I’m desperate to be with him, but what if he can never get back to our world? What if it’s permanent? What if he’ll never be able to return to me?
I shake myself, gripping my hands into fists, and remember that I’m no good to him dead. I’m no good to myself, or to Agnes, or my islands, or anyone, if I die today. There is no way out of this, no one coming to rescue me. The only way out, as ever, is through.
I need to focus.
‘Look,’ Kell says, leaning across to me. ‘The arena floor.’
Sweeping my gaze over it, I gasp. We are in the same arena as the first Trial, but it’s no longer a flooded space. Now it is fully exposed, a large oval stretching off to the distant stands of spectators. And all over the ground, walls and doors form a complex labyrinth … but then I notice the movement.
‘The walls are shifting,’ I say, whipping to meet Kell’s gaze. His eyes widen. The maze-like arena below has doors that close and walls that move, creating an impossible Trial. One that has no discernible pattern. They’re at least twice our height and sheer, unclimbable,seeming to be made of a bronze type of metal. It’s a mechanical labyrinth with no roof, open so that the spectators can see everything that transpires beneath them. ‘We could be trapped in there. We could be lost for days …’
We all watch as a section in the wall of the arena opens on the furthest side, below the rows of people watching from above. And several creatures, a pack, move out into the arena, stalking between the walls of the labyrinth. My heart leaps to my throat as I watch them move, see their jaws open wide, catch the glint in their ravenous eyes. Five monsters that will hunt us.
