‘You were enchanted, no doubt,’ Sonia said calmly.
She shrugged as Sholto’s eyebrows shot up. ‘There are magic beings in the Fell Zone, Sholto. They are called the Fellan. Dirk did not see them when he went through the golden Door, but Rye and I did.’
As both his brothers looked at him, Rye nodded, though his skin was prickling. He had sworn never to tell who had given him the little bag of magic powers he wore around his neck, so he had thought it best not to mention the Fellan to Dirk and Sholto at all. It shocked him that Sonia had blurted out the name so heedlessly.
Sholto was digging in his pocket, pulling out the snail-eaten pieces of his notebook that Rye had given him. He sorted through them, squinting in the gloom.
‘Your light, Rye!’ he said. ‘Just for a moment.’
Rye took the crystal from the bag and let its light fall on the fragment in his brother’s hand. His voice rising in excitement, Sholto read the words aloud.
‘There!’ Sonia crowed. ‘Your “Watchers” were the Fellan!’
Sholto looked up. His troubled face had cleared. ‘I was in the Fell Zone, then!’ he exclaimed. ‘I did not imagine it!’
‘Of course not!’ Sonia laughed. ‘You had only been in the Harbour for a few days when we found you, Sholto. But you have been away from Weld for over a year! Plainly you did not spend all that time in the Saltings—you could not possibly have survived. So you were somewhere else, and the Fell Zone is the most likely place. It fills Dorne’s centre, after all.’
‘So … I came through the silver Door,’ Sholto said slowly. ‘I found my way over the Saltings to the Fell Zone. I stayed in the forest, searching for the source of the skimmers, for over a year, and then—’
‘Then for some reason the Fellan drove you back into the Saltings,’ Sonia finished for him. ‘And it is not surprising that you remember nothing about it. I daresay they wanted to make sure you did not come back.’
‘I daresay,’ Sholto drawled.
‘So that is settled,’ Dirk said, relieved to see Sholto looking and sounding more like himself. ‘Let us make a start. The journey will not take long. Rye has learned to use the feather much better during our time here.’
But he had spoken too soon. After only a few minutes they were moving no faster than walking pace, and their feet kept brushing the snail-covered rocks. Every time this happened thousands of ravenous snails reared horribly, trying to slide onto their shoes. If it had not been for the protection of the armour shell fixed to Rye’s finger the companions would have been dragged down and reduced to skeletons in minutes.
‘By the Wall, Rye, can you go no higher?’ Dirk whispered.
‘I had forgotten the metal that lies among the rocks here,’ Rye said shakily. ‘It is affecting the feather’s magic.’
And the magic of the armour shell too, he thought but did not say. He could not help noticing that the snails were not bouncing away from their shoes, but merely failing to get a good grip.
Sholto had plainly seen the same thing. ‘Use the light, Rye,’ he urged. ‘We are far enough into the wasteland by now to risk that. I am sure that it is only because I managed to keep my lantern going that I survived my night here.’
Sure enough, though the light of the crystal was far dimmer than usual, it was enough to keep the snails back. The moment the glow hit them they withdrew into their shells and stayed there.
The light made it far easier to pick out Sholto’s pyramid trail, too, so the journey became less tense. Progress was still slow, however, and by the time the tenth pile of stones came into view the sky was beginning to lighten.
‘I remember building that pyramid so clearly,’ Sholto said in a low voice. ‘Putting stone upon stone, trying not to think of the night that had just passed, fighting the fear that I had lost my mind …’
‘Do not think of that,’ Dirk said quickly. ‘Think of what you and Rye did! Think that, because of you, no skimmers flew over the Wall last night, and the people of Weld slept safely for the first time in years!’
Sholto half smiled, swatting at one of the giant insects that had begun buzzing around in the past few minutes. The creature fell to the ground and in seconds the snails had made short work of it.
When they reached the pyramid at last, Rye swept the light crystal around.
‘The Door is here somewhere,’ he murmured. ‘It is concealed, that is all. Sonia, can you see it?’
But Sonia did not answer, and suddenly it came to Rye that she had not spoken for a long time. He turned to her and with a stab of panic he saw that her eyes were glazed. He had been depending on Sonia to find the silver Door, as she had found the golden one. He had forgotten how badly the Saltings affected her.
Sonia! he called to her in his mind. Can you see the Door?
Slowly Sonia turned her head. A slight crease appeared between her eyebrows. ‘Of course,’ she mumbled, and pointed.
And there, very near, glimmering slightly in the gloom, was the ghostly shape of the silver Door.
Rye gasped with relief, and after a moment so did Dirk. Sholto, dumbfounded, simply stared.
They floated awkwardly to the Door, which was hovering a little way above the ground and seemed more solid the closer they came to it. Like the golden Door, it had no handle on this side, but Rye had expected that. He fumbled in the brown bag for the charmed key.
‘Look at the snails,’ Dirk muttered uneasily.
Everyone looked around. Every rock in the Saltings was still. The snails had all retreated into their shells.
‘They sense that the sun is rising,’ Sholto said, glancing at the sky. ‘Make haste, Rye!’
Rye stuffed the red feather and the light crystal back into the brown bag. His feet thudded down onto the snail-covered rocks as he drew out the tiny key and pressed it to the Door.
To his dismay, nothing happened. He tried again, but still the Door did not move.
Sholto cursed under his breath. ‘The Master’s birds!’ he hissed.
In terror Rye looked up, following his brother’s gaze. Two dark shapes were speeding towards them beneath the red-stained clouds. Between one blink and another, giant wings, snake-like necks and cruel talons became visible. A harsh screech split the air.
‘They have seen us!’ Dirk yelled.
‘Keep trying, Rye!’ Sholto urged. ‘You must be touching the wrong place!’
‘No!’ Sonia cried. ‘Rye, we got through the golden Door without a key. It opened when you ran at it, remember?’
‘I cannot see—’ Sholto began, but Rye was willing to try anything. He drew back a little, then threw himself heedlessly at the Door.
There was a sound like a clanging gong as his hands, his boots and the stick in his belt struck the silver surface. And with joy he saw a strip of blinding white light appear down one side of the Door.
‘Hold onto me!’ he shouted, as the strip widened. ‘Hold—’
And then they were all tumbling into the light, and the Door was slamming behind them, shutting out the screeches of the diving sky serpents cheated of their prey.
2 - Inside
Dazed with relief, Rye sat up. He felt bruised all over, but what did that matter? By a miracle he, Sonia, Dirk and Sholto were safe—safe in the Chamber of the Doors.
‘What in Weld has happened here?’ he heard Dirk ask in a strained voice.
And only then did Rye register that the floor of the chamber was littered with rubble, and the air was thick with dust.
In shocked silence, the companions picked their way to the fireplace, which was overflowing with bricks, broken clay tiles and chunks of mortar.
Dirk bent and picked up a piece of tile. ‘This came from the roof,’ he said grimly. ‘The roof caved in up above, by the look of things, and falling debris blocked the chimney. It happened not long ago, I would say. The dust still has not settled.’