“Get back!” Rook cried, shooing Lily and the Kelmins away. She pushed Drift aside with her other hand, forgetting to be quiet, not caring who saw them in the alley. Something was coming. She heard its harsh breath as it neared the door, so fast, a blur of claws and fur.
Lily and the Kelmins scrambled out of the way, pressing themselves against the far wall of the alley. “Shut the door!” Lily shouted.
Rook grabbed the knob and flung the door closed, but instead of clicking into place, the wood slammed into something solid. There came a muffled thump, followed by a high-pitched squeal, like an animal in pain.
Then the door burst open, and a huge shadow landed in the alley right in front of Rook.
FEAR FROZE ROOK’S BOOTS TO the cobblestones as she stared at the creature occupying a large portion of the alley. It stood on four legs and was covered in a generous coat of red, white, and black fur. If Rook didn’t know better, she would have sworn the creature was a fox. She’d seen them sometimes running wild in Gray Town, sniffing at trash cans or making dens in the ditches behind the factories.
But never this big. The creature was larger than a wolf, lips curled back to reveal rows of long, thin white teeth. It shook itself, spraying wet snow across the front of Rook’s shirt. Even with the freezing droplets hitting her skin, she still couldn’t find the strength to run. The creature threw its head back and let out a deep-throated howl.
A scurrying movement came from behind her, and then Drift was there, seizing Rook around the waist. She felt herself lifted into the air, out of reach of the fox. On the ground, Lily had grabbed Mr. Kelmin and his grandson and was backing them slowly toward the alley mouth.
Suddenly, there came another commotion to their right. Footsteps and voices filled the air. Rook twisted in Drift’s grasp just in time to see three constables step into the alley.
“That’s where the shouts were coming from, and then I heard— Look!” one of the constables cried, pointing. “Exiles! And a Wasteland monster! Block the alley!”
“Oh no,” Drift whispered. She carried them higher, aiming for the nearest rooftop. “We have to get out of here.”
Below them, Lily and the Kelmins were running toward the constables, their hands in the air. “Help!” Mr. Kelmin cried. “Shoot the beast! Shoot it!”
The fox, as if sensing the danger, flattened its ears and pressed its big body into a crouch. A snarl escaped its throat, and the patches of red and white fur on its body darkened, turning all to black.
And growing.
Rook’s mouth fell open. Inky black shadows poured from the fox’s body, wreathing it like smoke. The shadows broke apart and drifted in pieces to fill the alley. Slowly, they reshaped themselves, lengthening and sharpening into dark replicas of the fox, complete with pointed ears and bushy black tails. They had no eyes, but the shadow creatures’ mouths were unnaturally wide, opening in unison to let out a chorus of howls.
By that point, Lily and the Kelmins had reached the constables, who ushered them quickly out of the alley and then formed a line to block the entrance, trapping the shadow foxes.
“Shoot it!” one of the constables shouted, just as the foxes burst into motion, passing beneath Rook and Drift and sprinting to the mouth of the alley.
Cracks of pistol shot filled the air, ricocheting off the alley wall. Drift surged upward, lifting Rook over the edge of the nearest roof and dropping her on the slanted tiles. Rook fell to her knees, scraping her skin on the rough surface. More shots rang out from below.
Rook pushed herself up and began a half run, half climb to the top of the roof, throwing one leg over the peak, then the other, and sliding down the tiles on the opposite side. She didn’t have to look back to know Drift was behind her. She felt the rush of wind and heard her friend’s labored breathing as she flew through the air.
When she reached the edge of the roof, Rook shouted, “Have you got me?”
“Always,” Drift called back.
That was all Rook needed to hear. She leaped from the rooftop, legs and arms pumping, soaring over another empty alley. But she wasn’t going to make it to the next rooftop, not by a long shot.
Just as she was starting to fall, Drift snatched her out of the air. A quick surge of wind bore them aloft again, boosting Rook the rest of the way to the next rooftop. Behind them, the frightful howling continued.
“They can’t kill it,” Rook said as Drift flew over her shoulder and landed on the roof tiles just a few feet above her. “They’re shooting at shadows.”
“Well, one of them isn’t a shadow,” Drift said. She craned her neck to try to see behind them down to street level. “I’ll be right back—I need to get a better view.”
She leaped off the roof, the wind carrying her to the top of a nearby metal tower rising up between the warehouses. It was an old skyship docking station, abandoned and rusting, with an empty animus crystal still fastened to its peak. The crystal was useless now, of course, its magic entirely spent. But from the platform at the top of the tower, Drift had a clear overhead view of the surrounding streets.
Rook didn’t want to look. More screams shattered the air, and then came the sound of running feet from several directions at once. Drift jumped off the tower and zoomed back to the roof where Rook was crouched.
“The townspeople have seen it,” Drift reported, her face grim. “They’re running.”
Rook’s heart sank. If the constables didn’t stop them, the fox creatures would be free to terrorize everyone in Gray Town.
“This is my fault,” Rook moaned. Her magic had betrayed her in the worst possible way this time.
“Hey, now.” Drift slid down the roof tiles until she was near enough to put her arm around Rook. “If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I should have gotten that woman out of the way and slammed the door as soon as we saw that it wasn’t the right place. The constables will take care of the monster, but then they’ll be looking for us. We need to get out of here.”
Drift was right—beating themselves up about it wasn’t going to help. They had to get to safety. Rook stood, and the two of them scrambled to the peak of the roof and down the other side. Drift wrapped her arms around Rook and a fresh wind launched them into the air. They flew to the next rooftop, and the next, until an imposing wall of gray stone loomed before them, the barrier that encircled the Wasteland and guarded the citizens of Regara from what lay within.
Dread stirred inside Rook, a fear unlike anything she’d ever felt before. She wanted to tell Drift to hurry, to get them as far away from that wall as possible, but she could feel Drift’s magic weakening. The wind that boosted them had gone from a gale to a feeble puff. Drift had used too much of her power all at once during their escape.
“Are you all right?” Rook asked over her shoulder.
“Think so…Just need…quick rest,” Drift said, breathless. She landed them on the peak of the nearest roof and sagged against Rook’s shoulder.
Rook steadied her, but her attention was still on that massive wall. Sailors claimed it was the first thing they saw when approaching the Regaran port, miles before the rest of the city came into view.
And the sky above the wall was always a different color than the sky over the rest of the city.
Today it was blister red, clouds swirling in a towering vortex, almost as if the wind was blowing in different directions on the other side of the wall. It probably was. The Wasteland obeyed no laws of nature.
Two years ago, the area had simply been Lake Caralan, the site where the Voran wizards had constructed a permanent magical portal between the world of Talhaven and the wizards’ world of Vora. For years, ships from Vora had sailed out of the great stone archway housing the portal and on to every trading port in Talhaven, carrying animus crystals filled with magic that would change people’s lives. It was, or so the stories went, a time of cooperation and prosp
erity for both worlds.
After the Great Catastrophe, the area around Lake Caralan was forever changed. The portal explosion had released a huge amount of magic into Regara, but it had somehow become corrupted. Overnight, strange plants grew on the wreckage of buildings, creating a wilderness in the ruins. Terrible sounds came from within, the shrieks of animals exposed to the soured magic. It transformed them. Made monsters of them. Soon after, the first cases of Frenzy started showing up among the Regarans.
No one knew how to get rid of the dangerous magic, so to save the city and protect the people from this new disaster, the mayor of Regara ordered that the lake and surrounding area be walled off completely from the rest of the city.
In the two years since, the rest of Regara had managed to recover, but after all that had happened, could anyone blame people for being afraid of magic and the exiles? With a wince, Rook remembered the looks on the Kelmins’ faces. Many Regarans had lost loved ones in the portal explosion, and others were now threatened by a strange, violent magical illness. The exiles and their power would always be a reminder of these tragedies.
“Sorry,” Drift said, breaking into Rook’s dark thoughts. “I’m better now, and I think we’re far enough away from the constables that we can fly down here.” She nodded to the trash-strewn alley below them. “Get ready to draw the door to the roost.”
They stepped off the roof, letting Drift’s wind cradle them until their boots landed on the cobblestones. Rook looked around. Behind them was a dead end, and the mouth of the alley was almost completely blocked by a dozen overflowing trash cans. The shouts from the constables were barely audible in the distance. Now was the time to escape.
Taking out her chalk, Rook sketched the hasty outline of a door, not even bothering to make it a normal-sized entry. She and Drift would have to duck going through it.
She was finishing the last line when Drift screamed.
ROOK WHIRLED JUST IN TIME to see the giant fox rise from where it had been hiding among the trash cans. None of its shadows was anywhere to be seen, and the fox’s fur had returned to its original red, black, and white color, but the sheer size of the creature made Rook tense with fright.
She grabbed Drift’s arm and instinctively pulled the other girl behind her. Not that it would do much good. The thing was big enough to rip through them both like paper. But if Drift managed to get in the air fast enough—
As if it had heard the thought, the creature leaped, closing the distance between them in an instant. Its bulk filled the narrow alley even without its shadow doubles.
They were trapped. The beast was too close—if they tried to fly away, it would tear them out of the air before they got more than a foot off the ground. And there was nothing but a bare alley wall behind them.
“Go,” Rook hissed at Drift. “I’ll distract it while you fly away.”
“Save your breath,” Drift said, clamping her hand on Rook’s wrist. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Rook dared to take her eyes off the creature, glaring at Drift over her shoulder. “Don’t be stubborn,” she said. “This is my fault. I don’t want you dying because I was stupid and—”
“Wait,” Drift interrupted, tightening her grip on Rook’s wrist. “Look.”
Rook turned, half expecting to see the creature’s open mouth waiting to take a bite out of her. Instead, the giant fox was lying on the ground, resting its head on its paws. Its eyes were half closed, and the beast’s tongue lolled out the side of its mouth like a puppy’s.
“What’s it doing?” Rook whispered as she slid back a step to put some distance between themselves and the creature.
“I don’t know,” Drift said, backing up with her, “but once we get far enough away, you need to brace yourself, because I’m going to take off fast. Like hair-standing-straight-up-on-your-head fast.”
“But the door’s finished,” Rook said, nodding to the alley wall. It was a plain white rectangle with hinges in the shape of silver half-moons. “If we can just get through it, we’ll be safe.”
“Leave it for now,” Drift said. “We’ll lead this thing away and then circle back and use the door to get home.”
Good enough, Rook thought, and braced herself for a wind gust to end all wind gusts.
Just then, the fox raised its head and whimpered at them.
Rook stared at the creature, her curiosity temporarily overcoming her fear. If she didn’t know better, she would have sworn the fox was begging—but for food, attention, or something else?
Drift tugged Rook’s waist, preparing to fly, but some strange compulsion made Rook hesitate. “Wait,” she said, putting her hands over Drift’s to stop her taking off. “I think it’s…I don’t think it wants to hurt us.”
Drift let out a squeak of disbelief. “Are you serious? That thing’s dangerous! Didn’t you see the way it pulled darkness out of its body?”
“Yes, but it was surrounded by strangers with pistols,” Rook pointed out, “and it didn’t know where it was. Maybe it was just scared.”
Drift was silent, as if she was thinking that over. “I suppose it’s possible,” she said after a moment. “But how do we know it won’t go from scared to angry? Or hungry? We should go.”
“But we can’t just leave it here,” Rook said. “If the constables find it, they’ll kill it.”
And that, too, would be her fault.
“Then what do you suggest?” Drift asked. “We can’t stay here all day. The constables will track us all down eventually.”
“I have to try to send him back where he belongs,” Rook said. “Back to that forest.”
“But you’ve already made a door to the roost,” Drift said. “What are you going to do with that one?”
“I’ll change it,” Rook said. She gently disengaged herself from Drift’s grasp and sidled up to the door, keeping one eye on the huge fox. He watched her just as keenly, his bushy tail swishing back and forth like a broom.
Rook reached out and laid her hand on the silver doorknob. She closed her eyes and let the magic flow out of her and back into the door. It was a trick she’d learned not long after she’d arrived in this world.
The constables had taken all the exiles and housed them in temporary dormitories where sailors usually stayed when they were in port. It was a cramped space, and it smelled like dirty laundry. Rook secretly got up in the middle of the night, sat on the floor beside her bed, and practiced making doors. She tried not to draw the attention of the other children, but most of them were too busy conducting small, hesitant tests of their own powers to notice her. They were all hoping the same thing—to use their magic to escape.
With each door Rook created, she had only one destination in mind.
Take us back to Vora, she’d silently beg before opening the doors. She had no memory of what that world looked like, but she’d heard one important detail from the few Regarans who’d been allowed on the other side of the portal.
In Vora, the sky was red, as red as it ever was over the Wasteland.
So Rook practiced her magic in the dead of night, searching desperately for that blazing sky. Each time, her doors opened to a different place, but it was always in the world of Talhaven. Never home, a family waiting for her with open arms.
Undeterred, Rook kept going, testing her powers. One of those tests was to see how many times she could change the destination of a door once she’d created it. She’d discovered that three was her limit. Any more attempts and she ended up bent over a bucket throwing up.
That was how Drift found her one night: head in a bucket, white hair flopping all over, next to a tiny green door the size of a shoebox. Drift had gotten her a glass of water and a damp rag to clean herself up, and then the two of them had sat on the floor, talking for hours. They whispered about how they felt so lonely, though neither of them could remember what or who they should
be lonely for. Rook had made over a dozen doors that night, but she’d had no idea she would also make a friend.
The doorknob warmed under her fingertips. Rook opened her eyes and turned the knob. She was more cautious this time, opening the door a crack, just wide enough to let in a rush of snowy wind. Beyond the door loomed the dark forest and the pine trees with their icy skins. For once, Rook was relieved that her magic had returned to the haunted forest.
The destination a success, Rook turned to face the giant fox. She wasn’t quite sure how to coax it through the door. Maybe if it smelled the forest, it’d be drawn back to where it belonged. She opened the door a little wider.
“Do you smell that…er…Mr. Fox?” she asked, opening and shutting the door to fan the wind into the alley. “It’s your home. It’s okay now. You can go back to the forest.” The fox swung its head toward her, and Rook pulled the door wide, stepping to one side of it. “Go home! You’re free!” she announced.
And she waited.
And Drift waited.
But the fox just sat in the middle of the alley with its tongue lolling out the side of its mouth.
Rook shifted her weight from one foot to another, kicking at the cobblestones. Maybe it was better if she approached the creature more like a dog.
“Come on, boy!” she called, slapping her thigh. When that got no reaction, she put her fingers in her mouth and whistled. “Over here! Be a good boy!”
The fox’s ears twitched, and slowly it pushed itself up to its full, impressive height. Drift let out a gasp. “Be careful, Rook,” she said.
“It’s all right,” Rook assured her, though she really had no way of knowing that. She just had a feeling. Staring into the fox’s warm, intelligent eyes, she was sure the beast wasn’t going to hurt her.
Rook gestured to the open door again. The creature ambled over and stood in front of her, its head almost at eye level, its tail thumping the ground.
The Door to the Lost Page 4
