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Lief and Jasmine looked at the first piece of parchment. Barda crept forward to look over their shoulders.

How the Rafts Came to Be

When the three Pirran tribes fled their ancient land after the coming of the Shadow Lord, they found refuge on islands in an underground sea. The Isle of Auron was well separated from the enemy islands of “Plume and Keras. It was large, had natural water, and was covered by fast-growing fungus trees from which boats and dwellings could be made. When fit by the magic of the people, the cavern in which it lay shone with every colour of the rainbow.

Some Aurons found a strange, wild beauty in the island and the shining caverns. But most saw only ugliness, and at once began creating illusions of the lost beauties of Pirra. After a time, they went further. They wove a great spell, creating a dome which covered the island, containing the magic and making the illusion complete.

But there were those who did not agree with what had been done. These Aurons, our ancestors, wanted to live in a world that was real, however strange, rather than to exist in a dream created by their own minds.

Lief put down the first piece of parchment, and took up the second.

And so our ancestors were stripped of their magic and cast out as traitors. Eeran, the Piper of those days, swore that if they went in peace, so blood would not he spilled inside the dome, the caverns would always be filled with light. And our ancestors believed him, and left without a murmur.

They made rafts of driftwood lashed together with ropes of dried weed. They built mud houses, learned to live the fife of the shining sea which was their home and were happy.

For many years, Eeran’s promise was kept. But then, not long after the coming of Doran, the bringer of fire, the fight began, very slowly, to dim. Now, centuries later, our realm is as you see it.

The dome-dwellers continue to expel all things that threaten their idea of Beauty, including their dead. Thus they feed the creatures which breed around the dome. And those creatures are hunted by the Arach, those monsters of nightmare which once hid deep in caves, away from the fight, hut now nest in the warmth and dimness of the dome sea.

The dome is protected fry the magic of the Aurons within it, and the stem of the Pirran Tipe. We, who are without magic, cannot penetrate it. Many have tried and died in the attempt.

We must all prepare for a time when the fight is gone altogether. We must learn to find our way in dark water, and to know by touch the warning lines which must never he crossed. We must continue to save every scrap of wood, to mend the rafts cleverly, and to hate waste.

Then we will survive.

Lief looked up to meet Penn’s grave eyes. He handed back the parchments, saying nothing. What was there to say?

But Jasmine’s eyes had narrowed. ‘What are these Arach?’ she asked abruptly.

At the sound of the name, Penn stiffened and glanced from side to side. With a stifled cry she half rose from her seat, then fell back.

‘What have I done?’ she gasped. ‘Oh, Auron forgive me! In my distress I forgot to watch. We are drifting over the line!’

The companions looked down. Pink and yellow weed was all around them. It was lush and thickly branched, floating just under the surface of the water. Before they could gather their wits, the boat’s prow had nudged out of the weed, and into the milky water beyond.

And by the dome, something stirred. There were sounds. Sucking, creaking sounds that chilled the blood.

‘Back!’ muttered Penn, her eyes wild with panic. ‘Make haste! Oh, make haste!’

Lief and Jasmine began back-paddling frantically. Their paddles splashed uselessly, snagging on the ragged blanket of weed. The boat swayed awkwardly from side to side, but did not move.

Without another word, Penn threw herself into the water and began clawing at the weed, flinging great trails of it aside, trying vainly to clear a path.

Two huge shadows, two vast, lumpy bodies each swaying on eight thin, jointed legs, rose dark against the glow of the dome. Red eyes gleamed as the beasts sprang forward and began running towards the boat, running with terrifying speed over the surface of the water.

‘Over the side!’ Penn shouted. ‘Swim! Swim for your lives!’

11 - Arach

Without hesitation, Lief caught Jasmine in his arms and tumbled with her into the weed-filled water.

Surfacing, he heard Barda splashing and shouting somewhere behind him. He shouted back, then, holding Jasmine tightly against his chest, he struck out, kicking aside the sodden cloak that clung around his legs, fighting his way through the weed.

Jasmine was gasping, choking, trying to speak.

‘I know what you want to say, and you can save your breath,’ Lief panted. ‘I will not leave you.’

Barda came up beside him. Supporting Jasmine between them they clawed through the matted growth, struggling forward with painful slowness.

‘What are you doing? Make haste!’ screamed Penn from the dimness beyond the weed. Then, amazingly, she was leaving safety, plunging towards them, cutting through the water and weed like a fish.

Her head bobbed up in front of them, pale eyes wide with terror. She reached for Jasmine.

‘Where is she injured?’ she demanded.

‘Not injured. Cannot swim!’ Lief panted, and saw the history-keeper’s jaw drop in stunned amazement.

Then she was swimming away, pulling Jasmine expertly along with her. And Lief and Barda were thrashing behind, hearts pounding, chests aching, through the weed and, at last, out into the open sea.

There Penn stopped and turned, treading water, supporting Jasmine easily with one arm.

‘Why have you stopped?’ gasped Barda.

‘We are safe here,’ said Penn. ‘Arach do not hunt beyond the weed. The dome waters are their territory.’ Then her face twisted with pain. ‘Ah, no!’ she wailed. ‘Ah, what wicked waste!’

There was a sound like crackling dry leaves. Panting, the breath rasping in his lungs, Lief turned himself around in the water.

The Arach had halted at the edge of the seaweed band. One of them had seized the boat. It was lifting it high into the air, crushing it like paper. The other was fighting for a share, tugging at the frail craft, scrabbling inside it, looking for prey.

Lief stared, dumbfounded. The Arach were like vast, deformed spiders. Their bloated bodies were covered by glossy black shell, as though plated with armour. Their long, thin legs looked like wires of steel, prickling with spurs and spikes. Their armoured heads seemed nothing but greedy red eyes and dripping fangs.

With a dull, angry roar, the second Arach jerked violently, tearing the boat in half. Provisions, buckets, the lantern, and two small objects that Lief realised were the cages of the fighting spiders, sailed high into the air, scattering and falling with dull splashes.

Fury’s cage plunged into the water just in front of Lief. Fury was scrabbling desperately inside. Lief grabbed for the cage and lifted it up, gasping as he worked at keeping himself afloat with one hand.

This is madness! he thought. I cannot save myself, let alone this spider. But he could not bring himself to let the creature drown before his eyes.

Neither, it seemed, could Barda leave Flash to his fate. Barda was floundering towards the other cage, reaching out for it as though his life depended upon it.

‘The Arach have had enough,’ muttered Penn.

Lief looked up and saw the monsters creeping back to the dome. The shredded remains of the boat lay scattered on the weed bed.

Without warning, Penn plunged her head under the water. Jasmine, still clasped firmly in her arm, spluttered in panic. Bubbles rose in a great stream around Penn’s head and Lief thought he could hear a strange, muffled cry.