Beyond the Shroud (22 page)

‘Right,' said Rich, his jaw set. ‘We know it's possible. So …' he stepped forward.

‘Do be careful, Richard,' quavered Gen. ‘Maybe it's only strong enough to take light weights …' Richard scowled at her. One foot reached out to the bridge, prodding experimentally — but I noticed he kept his weight well back. And just as well.

Gen sighed, the sound almost drowned by the thundering of the water. Kenta shot her a rueful smile. ‘Maybe that's how it got it's other name — the Bridge of Sighs.'

‘Thanks Kenta — that's real useful,' growled Rich sarcastically. ‘And watch out, for goodness sake, Weevil — if you jump about like that you'll fall over the edge — and I'm not going in after you.'

Blue-bum was hopping and skipping about as if he'd gone crazy, pointing at us each in turn and chattering away nineteen to the dozen. It made me feel giddy seeing him cavorting so close to the edge of the platform … and then suddenly I realised he wasn't
on
the edge, he was
over
it — leaping up and down on the bridge itself, solid as a rock.

‘So — he can cross it, too,' said Rich thoughtfully, as Weevil disappeared onto the other side. ‘Why can Tiger Lily cross, and Weevil, but not the rest of us? And what
set him off like that, I wonder?'

‘It was what Kenta said about the Bridge of Sighs,' Gen said.

‘The Bridge of Sighs,' repeated Jamie. ‘The Bridge of Sighs … do you have to
sigh
while you're crossing?' He rolled his eyes and breathed gustily through his mouth to demonstrate, then poked one toe at the bridge … and through it.

‘No, silly!' chirped Hannah. ‘
I
know what it is — and Tiger Lily knew before
anyone.
It's not the Bridge of Sighs — it's the Bridge of
Size!
'

‘Huh?' said Rich.

But before we could say anything else — before we could even begin to stop her — Hannah had scampered out across the roaring void and over it, laughing back at us over her shoulder.

Kenta crossed next, then Gen. ‘It's you now, Jamie,' said Rich, grinning down at him, ‘though I guess it depends what kind of
size
it goes on.'

Blushing, Jamie moved to the edge of the platform, then stopped. ‘Well, hurry up,' said Rich. ‘Don't stand there all afternoon admiring the view! The sun's moving fast, and there are two of us still to go!'

‘It's just …' I could barely hear Jamie over the roar of the water, ‘… it doesn't look awfully … solid.'

He was right — it didn't. My guts were churning at the thought of crossing — and as Jamie had said, what if the sun went behind a cloud?

‘Just do it!' growled Rich. ‘The longer you hang about, the more danger there is of the sun disappearing when you're halfway over. Hurry
up,
for crying out loud!'

Jamie shuffled reluctantly forward, his arms outstretched like a tightrope walker. He took one tiny step … then another, and another. Then he stopped. From where we
were standing, it looked almost as if he was suspended in mid-air.

We waited. But Jamie was frozen, immobile on the bridge.

I cupped my hands round my mouth and yelled across to him. ‘Jamie — kneel down! Crawl — you'll feel safer!' For a moment I thought he hadn't heard me. Then he sagged at the knees, sinking down till he was on all fours and crawling forward with agonising slowness until he vanished over the top. Still we waited, Rich muttering impatiently, until we saw him arrive safely on the other side, the girls all over him.

Rich turned to me with a grin. ‘So, Adam: you or me?'

We eyeballed each other, dead level. I had no idea who it would be — Rich looked heavier, but I was maybe a centimetre or so taller. ‘I'll be last, I bet,' said Rich with a swagger. ‘I'm bigger, and stronger too. Go on — and make it quick!'

Warily, I made as if to step out onto the bridge — but my foot went clean through it, just like before.

To my relief, Rich didn't waste time arguing — and once he was on the bridge, he crossed it at a trot. I glanced up at the sun slanting over the bluff. There wouldn't be more than a minute or two before it disappeared — already, it had a blinding intensity that meant I had only moments left.

I took a deep breath, readied myself … and the second Rich was over, tested the bridge with my foot. This time, instead of emptiness, I could feel it under my boot, slightly yielding, but solid. Arms out for balance, trying not to look down, I walked out over the abyss. I could hear the thumping of my heart over the roaring of the falls … but the surface of the bridge was firm underfoot, almost bouncy, like a trampoline strung extra-tight.

I reached the top. The shimmering surface curved
downwards now, and I felt a sickening lurch of vertigo, as if I was toppling forward. Then a desperate shout reached me over the thunder of the water: ‘Adam —
run!'

I looked up — and saw with a stab of horror that the last sliver of sun was disappearing behind the cliff. Where seconds before there'd been a glare of light, now there was a chilling pall of shadow, only the tiniest edge of dazzling brightness still visible above it.

Panic ripped through me. I flung myself desperately towards the bank with huge, driving strides, my feet sinking deeper with every step as the bridge dissolved with terrifying speed beneath me. The torrent roared in my ears like a ravenous beast — I was running on nothing, stepping on air — I gave one last frantic leap, feeling the faintest resistance as my foot shot downwards into space — then threw my body forwards like a long-jumper, hands outstretched in a desperate grab for the bank I knew was still far beyond reach.

Then I was falling, a last thought spinning crazily though my brain:
So this is how it feels to die.

Time spooled into slow motion, every second stretching into an eternity, freeze-frame following freeze-frame. Then unbelievably — impossibly — my hands were closing on something as I fell, something coiling out like a rope flung into mid-air — I was gripping it with every atom of strength I possessed — falling, falling — then a massive jerk almost wrenched my arms from their sockets and I smashed face-first into the fern-covered cliff face below the path and hung there, my legs dangling over the void.

Real-time snapped back into place, seconds thudding by with each beat of my heart. My hands were locked onto the rope like steel clamps — but it wasn't a rope, it was a creeper, wet with spray and slippery as soap. I realised with a surge of horror that my weight was pulling me gradually downwards, centimetre by slow centimetre.

Then the creeper gave a jerk and I was hoisted upwards, my face scraping through mud and foliage and my feet kicking against rock … I flopped forward onto the forest floor and hugged it as if I'd never let go.

We walked on, leaving the sound of the falls far behind us, the ground underfoot growing gradually drier. At last it was too dark to see the path, though the trees had thinned and we could see occasional patches of sky.

Rich, who was leading, slowed and stopped. ‘I vote we set up camp here for the night. We can afford a rest — nobody's going to be crossing the bridge till morning, that's for sure. And I'm whacked.'

No one was about to argue, we were all too tired. We wolfed down the last of the bread and some fruit, unrolled our sleeping bags, and settled ourselves down for the night.

I fell instantly into a bottomless sleep — and then, what felt like seconds later, jolted awake again, my heart hammering. What had woken me? I lay still, listening. I could hear the tiny sounds of the forest — rustles, a faint hooting, the gurgle of a stream far below in the valley. The clearing was bathed in a strange, coppery light; I could see the bright glow of a full moon like a lamp above me, shining through the shifting leaves.

Something — a stone or a twig — was digging into my hip. I turned over onto my side and wriggled to get comfortable. Closed my eyes and breathed deeply, trying to relax. But it was no use — every sense was on the alert.

And then it came again — and I knew instantly it was what had woken me. Laughter, coming from Gen's sleeping bag. Something about the sound chilled me to the bone. It was an odd sort of giggling, with a falseness about it … I propped myself up on one elbow, frowning. She was
murmuring now — talking in her sleep. Snatches of words spilled out into the still air: ‘Come … water …' a sigh, then another soft giggle, and, very clearly: ‘rainbow!'

And suddenly Gen was sitting bolt upright, her hair a wild tangle and her eyes huge and frightened in a face as white as paper.

‘Gen?' She whipped round to face me with a gasp. ‘It's only me — Adam. What's the matter? Did you have a nightmare? You were babbling away to yourself …' I was trying to sound casual and comforting, but I couldn't shake a deep feeling of unease.

‘I'm fine.' Her voice shook slightly. ‘It's just … I had the strangest dream …' She shuddered, pulling the sleeping bag closer round her shoulders.

‘Tell me.' The feeling of dread was growing with every word.

She glanced round at the sleeping shapes of the others with an expression that looked almost like shame. ‘It's silly, really.' She was whispering so softly I could hardly hear her. ‘I dreamed I was doing the walk again, the whole way we've come … every step. And
he
was with me.' I didn't need to ask who she meant. ‘At first, I thought it was my dad — he was so gentle and caring. And by the time I saw who it really was, it didn't seem to matter, because he was being really, really kind — helping me over the difficult places and laughing with me as if it was all a wonderful adventure. Having him there was lovely, soothing and safe, as if someone was sort of …
stroking my mind.
'

I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise. ‘Go on.'

‘We crossed Rainbow Bridge … and then he asked how much further we had to go.'

‘What did you tell him?' But I didn't want to hear the answer.

‘I told him … all the way to the Cliffs of Stone.'

‘And then?'

‘Then he laughed — but it was a different laugh. It turned into black bats that flapped up to the sky and blotted out the stars … everything was darkness and echoing with his laughter … and … and …'

‘Yes, Gen?' I asked as gently as I could.

‘Then I woke up.' Her voice was as small and lost-sounding as a little child, and her face was wet with tears. ‘It was only a dream, wasn't it, Adam? Tell me it was … please?'

I shook the others roughly awake. ‘Quick — Rich, Kenta. Up, Hannah — now! We have to get moving — and fast.' I was cramming my sleeping bag into my pack as I spoke.

Rich gawked at me, his hair rumpled and his eyes bleary with sleep. ‘What —'

‘Karazeel knows where we are — and where we're headed. He got into Gen's head while she was sleeping …' I didn't need to say more. Richard was out of his sleeping bag in a flash, ripping through the campsite like a whirlwind, stuffing things willy-nilly into his bag.

‘I'm sorry,' said Gen in a tiny voice.

‘It's not your fault,' said Jamie staunchly, pulling on his boots. ‘You were vulnerable, after what happened in Shakesh.'

‘I always wondered what it would be like to be beautiful,' Gen whispered. ‘But if I hadn't looked like this, he'd never have noticed me — and this would never have happened. Oh, how I wish …'

‘No point wishing,' growled Rich, slinging his pack over his shoulder. ‘The one wish we had, we used up.' He glared at her, no doubt remembering what we'd used the wish for.

Less than five minutes later we were hurrying along the path in tense silence. I had an almost irresistible urge to look back over my shoulder — an uncomfortable sense of being watched, or followed, even though I knew it couldn't be true. Rich must have felt the same. He slowed slightly and muttered over his shoulder: ‘I've been thinking, Adam — they won't come this way. What we said last night holds true — the ravine's impassable till the sun rises. They'll cross at the ford — knocking together a new ferry won't take Karazeel's merry men two minutes. They'll come down the north road, and intercept us at the Cliffs of Stone. Our only chance is to get there before them.' Rich always seemed in his element with practical stuff — the more dangerous the better. I nodded agreement, not saying what was in my mind: that getting to the cliffs before our pursuers was one thing … but finding the doorway back to the safety of our own world might be another.

The twin moons of Arakesh were high in the sky and side by side when we set off, and full. The effect was spectacular — like two glowing lamps in the sky, one silvery-white, one bronze. The light they shed made it almost as bright as day, with a strange metallic lustre that paved the path with gold.

We hurried on, Jamie puffing and panting at the rear, the girls in the middle, and Hannah hanging onto my hand, stumbling with tiredness. I gave her a grin and hoisted her onto my back, and we made faster progress.

Soon we were out in the open. Far below, gleaming in the moonlight, I could see the coppery thread of the River Ravven winding away to the sea. The ground on either side of us was becoming steeper, rising almost vertically to the right and falling away to the left. The path had narrowed, and it would be easy to lose our footing. And if we did … I glanced down, and my stomach turned over at the sheer drop below. I wondered how visible we'd be from the ford, silhouetted against the cliff face in the moonlight.

At last the path started to descend, and I saw the welcome shadow of trees ahead. ‘I'm betting that's the fringes of the forest outside Arakesh,' said Rich in a low voice. ‘And if I'm right, it means we're nearly there.'

We hurried on, grateful for the shelter of the trees. The moonlight faded as the twin moons vanished over the horizon behind us, and I realised it must be almost dawn. As the sky slowly lightened, my sense of urgency grew stronger. It was as if I could sense an evil presence growing closer, grey shapes materialising like wraiths out of the misty light. ‘Rich,' I muttered, ‘we must hurry.'

We picked up the pace till we were almost running, stumbling along at a jog for as long as we could, then slowing to catch our breath before pushing on again. The forest had dwindled to nothing now and we were in the open, feeling horribly exposed but making faster time. Some deep instinct was driving me on, urging the others to hurry. It was more than fear of the Faceless, or whatever might be hunting us — it was a feeling that we were facing some strange deadline I didn't even begin to understand … racing the sunrise … and if we were too late, everything would be lost.

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.