The group broke up, the children scurrying off to clean up and change out of their pajamas, with Danna herding them here and there. Rook followed Heath out the front door and into the snow. A fresh layer of powder coated the lawn. The trees at the edge of the forest were weighted down with it.
“Would you like to use a tree to make your door?” Heath asked, his breath fogging in the cold, crisp morning air.
“No, I need to use the ground,” Rook said. “That way we won’t pass through the red heartstone wall. It’s hard to explain, but I think we’ll go underground and come out of the sky. At least, I think that’s what happened the last time.”
Heath nodded. “I’ve seen similar magic,” he said. “Remember to focus, Rook. The stronger your heart is fixed on finding your friends, the more reliable your magic will be.”
Rook nodded. If that was what it took to keep her magic stable, then she wasn’t worried. There was nothing she wanted more at this moment than to see Drift and Fox again.
The freshly packed snow was as good a canvas as any. Rook was willing to bet she could make it work.
“All right. Here we go.” She knelt next to an unbroken patch of snow and began drawing a line through the powder. A thought struck her, and she glanced up at Heath, shielding her eyes at the blinding sun. “If you’ve seen magic like mine before—”
“Not exactly like yours,” Heath interrupted. “I’ve never seen a wizard who could create doors out of nothing, but I’ve seen ones use teleportation. That’s another word for what you do—transporting people across great distances in a short span of time.”
“Still, if you know enough…” Rook hesitated. She knew it was asking a lot of Heath, who had already offered her so much.
But Heath had already guessed what she was going to say. “Yes, I can help you learn how to use your power. You’ve already discovered variations you can take advantage of, but I think together we can stabilize your doors as well, let you keep them open longer, and so on.”
“But you’ll help me use it safely,” Rook said. That was the critical point, to her mind.
Heath smiled gently. “I’d be happy to.”
The idea was tantalizing. Rook clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking. The thought of having people who could help her understand and control her power—it opened up possibilities she had never dreamed of.
She bent and resumed her drawing, until she had traced another trapdoor. The magic stirred within her and rose up, stronger than ever.
The lines glowed gold, and there was a hiss as the magic melted the snow, turning it to steam. When it cleared, before her was a rectangular trapdoor just like before, but this time made of wood painted white. The hinges were delicate crystal snowflakes that sparkled in the sunlight. The doorknob was made of faceted glass, and cast dozens of tiny rainbows onto the snow. There was no sign of jutting nails or warped wood planks. The door was stable and beautiful.
Rook looked up at Heath. “Well?” she asked, hoping for his approval.
He rewarded her with a look of wide-eyed amazement. “It’s beautiful, Rook,” he said, bending to examine the door. “I was never able to get a close look at your doors before, but this is truly remarkable. I think we can build on this in your future magic lessons.”
“You mean I can do more than this?” Rook asked.
Heath nodded. “How you express your power is unique to you, Rook. You draw doors because that’s how you see your power, as a doorway to another place. But you don’t have to draw a physical line to open a door. The chalk, the lines—they don’t fuel your power. It comes from inside you. You can make a door wherever you want. If we had more time, I’d show you, but we’ll have to save it for another day.” He reached down and took hold of the glass knob, extinguishing the rainbows. “Get ready,” he said.
He opened the door all the way back to lie in a snowdrift. Beyond the threshold, there was darkness, just like last time.
“I’ll go through first,” Heath said. “Wait a few minutes before you follow me. I want to make sure there’s nothing dangerous waiting for us just on the other side of the door.”
Rook didn’t argue. The last thing she wanted was to step into a monster pit.
Heath scooted to the edge of the trapdoor and, with a last smile to reassure Rook, slid off the edge and let his body fall into darkness. Watching him disappear, Rook counted the seconds in her head, waiting to follow.
When it was time, she took a deep breath, and before the fear could overwhelm her, she dropped through the trapdoor. Darkness swallowed her, and Rook couldn’t help remembering the vision she’d seen of Fox’s paper birds soaring around her. Would she see them again?
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than something went wrong.
SOMEWHERE CLOSE, HEATH’S VOICE SHOUTED at Rook. It sounded like a warning, but she couldn’t make out the words. There was the sound of pounding, like fists on wood, but then all noise was swept away, and Rook was alone, floating in a deep dark void.
No, she wasn’t quite alone. For all around her, specks of white appeared out of the blackness. At first, Rook thought the gleaming dots were starlight.
But they were Fox’s paper birds. Back again, circling her in a flock. They flew close, allowing Rook to reach out and touch a paper wing. The bird turned toward her, landing in her open palm. Rook brought it near to her face to read the messages scrawled on its back.
The bird squawked once, startling her, and then its wings unfolded and flattened in her hand, until it was just a piece of paper covered in writing. Rook held up the message. The words didn’t make any sense. The language wasn’t one she recognized. But then the little black lines on the paper rearranged themselves, and the message suddenly became clear. It contained two different sets of handwriting, one messy and shaky, as if the person was in a great hurry. The other was made of tiny, elegant letters.
Let’s skip lessons today! We’ll go to the Livian Fields. Bring lunch. Answer back—I’m starving!
That’s because you never eat breakfast. Where are you anyway?
Balcony. You coming or not?
We’ll get in trouble with Mother and Father.
You’re no fun.
I didn’t say I wasn’t coming.
Yes!
But the message wasn’t just words. As Rook read on, she could hear the voices of the two people echoing in her head, as if she were eavesdropping on their conversation.
Or remembering it.
Because Rook recognized those voices. The voice of reason, the one that said they’d get in trouble with their parents, was hers.
The other voice, the voice of trouble and the promise of fun, was Fox’s.
And just like that, it was as if a wall in Rook’s mind came crashing down, smashed brick by brick. It was a strange, lightening sensation—the removing of a barrier she hadn’t even known existed.
A barrier to her memories.
Not all of them. There were still stubborn, obscured patches—like her name—but other important details were becoming clear, and a sob of joy and grief rose in Rook’s throat. She tried to relax and take it all in, but it was impossible.
Because even though she didn’t know his name, she knew who Fox really was. What the paper birds really meant.
And maybe, just maybe, that knowledge would help save her friends.
Rook came out of the dark in a rush. She was falling, but this time she landed in something soft. When she looked down, there was an endless sea of white all around her. For a moment, she thought she’d landed in a snowbank. Had she made a circle and come out back in the forest near Heath and Danna’s house? It didn’t seem likely, but if Rook’s power had failed her, there was no telling where she could end up.
But as she lay there in the bed of white, a creeping sensation worked its way up Rook’s spine.
If she was lying in snow, why wasn’t it cold? Or wet? And why, Rook thought with mounting panic, couldn’t she move her arms and legs?
Because she was lying in the middle of a giant spiderweb.
Rook’s chest heaved. She tried to push down the panic, but it wasn’t easy, not when she was the bug in the middle of a massive trap. Don’t thrash, she told herself. If she disturbed the web, it would surely draw the giant spiders.
Looking around, Rook couldn’t see the edges of the web, but so far, there were no spiders in sight. The strands were like glue sticking to her clothes and skin. To make matters worse, the deep twilight of the Wasteland had finally turned to night, and the only illumination came from the stars, the moon overhead, and a few animus globe streetlamps scattered about the area. Their magic hadn’t yet failed, probably because of the time distortion.
“Heath?” Rook called out, hoping the wizard was near enough to hear her. Maybe he’d escaped the web using his shapeshifting ability. She waited, but there was no sound except the wind, the distant rumble of thunder, and the cries of animals out in the dark. Rook suppressed a shiver. “I need help,” she called, daring to raise her voice a little louder.
No answer.
The sound of her breathing was harsh in Rook’s ears. She was trembling now, vibrating the strands of the web, but she couldn’t help it. Where was Heath? The door should have put him right in the middle of the web with her, but he was nowhere to be seen. Had he somehow ended up elsewhere in the Wasteland? Was that why he’d called to her?
“Help!” she shouted, abandoning caution. “Help me!”
Still there was no reply. Rook forced herself to take deep, calming breaths. She had to think. She couldn’t fall apart right now. Her friends were waiting for her, and with or without Heath she was going to rescue them.
First she had to get out of this web.
Rook examined her surroundings as best she could from her position. She was lying on her back, staring up at the night sky. Her arms, legs, and hair were deep in the web, and the whole thing was suspended about four feet above the ground at an angle, using the surrounding rock piles as supports. The web didn’t seem to have any trouble holding her weight, so Rook grabbed a handful of the sticky silk strands and pushed against them. Wincing in pain as the web pulled her hair, Rook forced herself upright. The strands attached to her back stretched and clung, but a few of them tore free. The trap wasn’t inescapable. It would just take time and patience. Neither of which Rook had, but she gritted her teeth and forged ahead. She raised her right arm, trying to force it above her head, tearing more strands in the process.
That was when she saw the spider.
Rook went absolutely still, but it was too late. The monster had already spotted her, and it was the big one. Rook choked back a scream as it scurried onto the web from a rooftop about ten feet away from her. It slowed and made a careful circle around her, staying just out of reach, as if it was trying to decide how helpless she actually was.
And then it inched closer, the claws of its mandibles clicking together.
Click. Click. Click.
Rook had never in her life been as terrified as she was at that moment. Even when the Frenzy mob was closing in on her in Skeleton Yard, she hadn’t felt so helpless. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the spider’s glassy eyes.
Do something! Rook shouted at herself. Don’t just sit there!
Click. Click. Click.
Rook found her voice. It was either that or die. “Help!” she screamed as loud as she could.
The spider paused, rocking back on its legs, poised to leap.
A SHOUT ECHOED IN THE night, startling the spider into skittering a few feet away.
“Rook! Rook, where are you?”
Rook knew that voice. It was Dozana’s, coming from somewhere in the darkness, too far away to see. She’d either heard Rook’s call or she’d been able to sense her magic, just as Heath said.
“I’m here!” Rook shouted, as the spider began inching closer again. “Over here! Hurry!”
“We’re coming!”
Rook’s breath caught. The answering shout had not been Dozana’s voice, but Drift’s.
Running footsteps sounded over the broken stones, and seconds later, Dozana came into view below her. Drift and Fox were on either side of her. They were still Dozana’s prisoners, but at least they weren’t hurt.
Dozana’s eyes widened when she saw the spider bearing down on Rook. She raised a hand, sending out a burst of power, and the spider shrank back, legs twitching, recoiling from the woman’s magic. It turned and scuttled away across the web. Rook sagged with relief.
“Hold on.” Dozana drew a knife—she must have taken it from one of the constables—and sliced at the web strands. They stuck to her blade, but she was strong and fast. She cut her way to Rook and reached up to grab her arm. “I can get you out, but this is going to pull your hair.”
Rook grimaced. She shot a quick glance over her shoulder, but the spider had disappeared. “Just hurry,” she said.
Dozana cut the remaining strands holding her prisoner, allowing Rook to wiggle free. As Dozana had promised, the silken cords snagged her hair painfully, and Rook was sure she’d lost a good bit of it, but at last she dropped to the ground.
All at once, Drift and Fox came running toward her. Fox was still in his human form, his magic obviously not replenished enough to change him back. Drift looked tired but much stronger than when Rook had left her. The two of them nearly knocked her off her feet, throwing their arms around her. Rook hugged them back fiercely, relieved, afraid, and happy all at once.
I didn’t bring help, she wanted to say. I tried and failed again.
But neither Drift nor Fox seemed to care about anything other than that she was back.
“Are you all right?” Dozana asked, looking and sounding impatient.
“I’m fine,” Rook said, pulling away from her friends to look back up at the shredded portion of the web. “But the spider—is it really gone?”
“Not for long,” Dozana said. She took Rook’s arm none too gently and hauled her away from the web. Drift and Fox followed and they set off at a quick pace.
“That big one’s been hunting us ever since you disappeared,” Dozana said, keeping a tight grip on Rook’s arm as they ran. “I’ve used my power to keep it at bay, but I almost didn’t get to you in time. That was foolish, Rook,” she said, glaring at her. “You risked your own life and your friends’ lives trying to escape. Fortunately, the lakeshore is nearby. Now hurry!”
The lake. A chill washed over Rook as she realized how much trouble they were still in. They were almost to the portal site. Heath was gone, if he’d ever made it to the Wasteland at all, and Dozana held her and her friends captive again. Rook was right back where she’d started, and Dozana was on the verge of getting everything she wanted.
Heath, Danna, and Drift had all warned her not to try to open the portal to Vora. But Rook had to save her friends, no matter what. Her thoughts raced as she tried to come up with a plan. At least this time she had her memories to help her.
Rook thought of all those paper birds. Fox had been right—they were messages, but not the kind you wrote down on paper. These were magic. She remembered composing a message in her thoughts, then imagined herself folding it into the shape of a bird and sending it through the air to another person, who would magically receive it in their mind as part of a psychic connection.
In this way, she’d exchanged hundreds of messages with Fox in their old lives. And maybe, just maybe, she could get the magic to work again to contact Fox and communicate with him. The only problem was she had no idea how the Wasteland would affect it. All she knew for certain was that it was an old magic, a special power that only certain people could share.
Because they had to be siblings.
TURNIN
G A CORNER AND CLIMBING over one last pile of broken stone, the group finally reached the lakeshore. The ring of trees floated at least twenty feet in the air, hovering like specters in the moonlight. Skeletal branches and roots dangled over the water, and the red lights floating in the trees cast menacing shadows over the whole area.
Then there was the lake itself.
The sight of it brought back another memory, of the moment Rook had entered this world. She’d been standing at the railing of a ship, leaning out as it passed through an immense stone archway. The portal had been a circle of light within the stones. She’d stretched her arm out to try to touch the archway as they sailed past, but she was unable to reach it. Then she and the other children had found themselves in the middle of a calm, deep blue lake, with buildings dotting the shoreline. There were shops and restaurants full of people, while pigeons and sparrows lined the rooftops hunting for scraps of food. There was even a park not far from the water, filled with beautiful old trees.
Then the portal light brightened behind them. Rook remembered turning, the light blinding her, and then there was a deafening sound, the loudest thunder preceding the worst storm. When the explosion came, Rook and the other children were thrown to the deck, blinded, deaf, not knowing whether they would live or die.
When it was all over, everything Rook had seen in that brief moment of peace was gone.
Now, the lake had become a churning mass of whitecaps, as if a great beast thrashed at the center of it. Drawing closer, Rook realized the disturbance was a whirlpool at the heart of the lake, swirling around the ruins of the portal archway. There was hardly anything left of the stones, just two broken pillars sticking up from the water.
Dozana stared out at the ruins of the archway. “There it is,” she said, her voice hushed. “Our way home—or at least, I hope it will be.” She turned to Rook, giving her a sharp look. “You tried to go get help, didn’t you?” she accused. “With the time distortion, I have no way of knowing how long you’ve been gone or what you’ve done. Tell me, Rook, are there constables out there somewhere, waiting in the dark to ambush us?”
The Door to the Lost Page 18
