Orange glowed in Noor’s eyes as the fire sparked to life. “Perhaps tomorrow, I will tell you the story of the first angel, Gabriel.”
Fia knew the story of Gabriel, at least she thought she did, but something told her that Noor’s story would be very different. She followed as the witch laid traps for rabbits, tying long vines in knots to tree branches, and creating little trap platforms from sticks tied together with long blades of grass. Fia was warming to Noor. She reminded her of Jo in a roundabout way. Everything she said was straight to the point, but there was a softness beneath her words. They seemed about the same age, too, early twenties, maybe. But then who knew how old anyone was here.
“The greatest stories are often about love.” Noor flashed a smile at Fia, as she turned back to check her first trap not long after she’d laid the last.
Fia felt her cheeks flush once more. Henry, that wasn’t love. She didn’t even know what it was. But the only story she was interested in hearing was the one about how to get back to London.
The first trap was empty, and Fia followed Noor to the second. “Do you know how I can get back to Earth? The coven will tell me, won’t they?”
Noor knelt down beside the second trap, collapsed but with no rabbit. Fia didn’t voice her relief that it had escaped. As Noor rebuilt the trap, she paused to glance up at Fia. “I don’t know how to return you to Earth, but I am hoping the coven will tell you. They are not my coven, mine is far from here.” She looked to the horizon, and Fia couldn’t read her expression. “But I am told they are fair witches. My experience with them so far tells me that is the truth.”
“Oh, they’re fair, are they?” Fia clenched her teeth together. She didn’t want to say something she’d regret. Noor nodded in response, and Fia followed her to another trap.
They pushed aside bushes and branches to find a rabbit, motionless at the end of a vine. Fia’s stomach twisted. She’d never seen a dead rabbit before—never seen an animal just hanging like that. Noor unknotted it with care and carried it by its legs back to the fire. Fia busied herself with clearing more loose rocks, not wanting to watch as Noor prepared their meal. First the voices and the angel, now a parallel world, and a witch preparing dinner. Fia counted her breaths again, hoping to fight the nausea that accompanied the panic. What if the coven didn’t know how to get back to Earth?
Noor fixed the skinned rabbit over the fire to cook and took out a large container made of animal skin, passing it to Fia. It was water, and Fia gulped it down gratefully.
“So, what do angels do…what happens when we die?” She’d always wanted to know where Sophie had gone, where her parents had gone. Energy couldn’t just disappear, could it?
Noor smiled and sprinkled some dried leaves on the rabbit. “In your world, who can say? Angels go to Earth to help the fallen’s spirit leave its body…here, because of Gabriel, our spirits either rise and join the sky spirits or sink deep down into Ohinyan.”
“They help people’s spirits leave their body?”
“Perhaps you would prefer the word soul,” Noor replied flatly.
Fia pictured Sophie lying on a wet road at night, Alexander touching down gently beside her. She fought back the familiar sting pushing at the corners of her eyes as Noor passed her a piece of cooked rabbit. Thinking of Sophie created a dull emptiness in her stomach that no amount of anything could ever fill.
She cleared her throat. “So I’m guessing the coven will tell me why it’s not a coincidence that I’m here, too. Right?”
“That is correct. I would ask you not to press me on the matter.”
Fia’s mouth opened and closed, and she knew how ridiculous her gawking would look. Noor wasn’t being rude—was it an obligation, then, that held her silence? She had an Amazonian like quality to her. Despite her long limbs, her movements were graceful, like a dancer’s. She busied herself with tasks, eating a mouthful of meat every now and then as she worked. Finally, she sat, sharpening one of her weapons on a strip of leather, humming softly as she looked at it, this way and that, and inspecting it in the pale moonlight. She’d been patient today, and Fia was grateful for it. They’d walked a long way, and Noor had stopped many times to wait for her.
“Sleep, we have an early start,” Noor said, wrapping up the remaining rabbit in more of the large leaves Fia had used for their bedding.
Where was this coven? As Fia lay down on her makeshift bed, anxiety pushed harder against her chest. It was always this way at night, when the world was silent, and her thoughts were loudest. But this wasn’t London—this was another world. Another world. The pressure increased as the anxiety threatened to turn into a full-blown panic attack. One, two, three…
Fia’s eyes flicked open to the Lady Noor shaking her from her almost-sleep. Arrows pointed at them from every direction, and small bows glowed orange in the firelight—far too many to count.
Chapter Six
Fia
Fia’s gaze moved from the tips of the arrows to the creatures surrounding them. There were too many to consider fighting. Maybe without weapons, they’d stand a chance, but every one of the strange, little feline people held a bow. Noor crouched beside Fia; her stance attack ready. Her right hand was raised to the hilt of a large sword she carried on her back, waiting for the strange creatures to make a move. Fia followed her lead, slowly rising, and steadied her feet, hands up, ready to fight.
Before any of them could make another move, fog filled the air around them, so thick Fia couldn’t see through it. She struck out with her elbow to where a creature had been standing beside her, but it connected with nothing. Where before there had been assailants wielding bows, there were now birds, shrieking and screaming, diving and flapping around each other.
She couldn’t work out what had happened. Adrenaline rushed in her ears, and everything was clouded in grey. But as quickly as it had come, the fog disappeared, and beside her on the ground laid the Lady Noor, unconscious, blood trickling down her forehead.
The birds were gone, and in their place the little feline people stood once more.
“Hey, what do you—” Before Fia could get the words out, her head was covered with cloth and her hands tied, plunging her into total darkness. “Hey, stop!” she shouted. “What do you want from us?” She kicked out, legs and elbows thrashing in all directions, but her blows met with air, until there was a tug on whatever they’d tied her to.
Their attackers made no sound. Breathe, just breathe. “Noor, can you hear me? Wake up, Noor!” Breathe. She twisted her hands against the binding on her wrists and kicked out fiercely, but was prodded with what was most certainly the tip of a bow.
Fia was led downwards, back towards the forest. Her hands had been fastened to a rope to guide her, and she could smell the familiar aroma from the day before: sweet pine mixed with damp soil and now cinnamon, too. Every now and again, she called out for Noor, but no reply came.
When she stumbled, a small hand would pull her up swiftly, and a tiny palm on her back directed her left or right, but otherwise there was no communication, only the sound of feet on twigs or rustling through leaves gave away their position.
She pictured their strange, yellow-green faces—human features, but feline, with sharp points to their ears, their chins, and the flatness of their small noses. Their eyes were impossibly narrow, their pupils like a cats’. They’d attacked with speed and silence, and now only the occasional sound of a twig breaking here and there told her they were still walking beside her.
In the distance rumbled the unmistakable sound of an engine, but Fia couldn’t make out which direction it came from. She hadn’t seen a single structure or vehicle since falling into Ohinyan, but then again, this could have been the middle of nowhere. She whistled. Where was Noor? Please be okay. Fia wasn’t ready to lose another person, even if it was someone she’d only just met.
A woman's voice began pleading, but it wasn’t the Lady Noor. At the same moment, Fia was shoved into some kind of container. She froze in pan
ic as it began to lift off the ground.
She reached out. The container was small, only big enough for her, and the edges felt rough, like wood. The walls of the container arched up and over her head, and as she felt around the sides, she found an opening. She pushed her fastened hands through the hole into nothing. Air rushed over her hands as the container swung wildly and rose upwards, throwing her backwards.
The air chilled as the container ascended, and there were sounds: mechanical, and the smell of engine oil, a clang of metal on metal, like closing doors, and Fia heard footsteps approaching, the creak of the container door swinging open. Hands tugged at her wrists, the cover was pulled off her head, and her eyes gradually adjusted to the low, dim light inside the...thing they were in.
Fia looked around. It was a loading bay. There were wooden crates in one corner and several of the containers—like the one she’d arrived in—swung gently in another corner, attached to a system of pulleys. They were nothing but little wooden pods.
Some of the cat people cut her restraints, and as Fia rubbed her wrists, she assessed her chances of fighting and making a run for the nearest container. There was nowhere she could go. They were too fast. And then she saw Noor.
Noor was still unconscious, but blood glistened from a wound in her head and had clotted and crusted down the side of her face beneath the silver circlet. She was ashen. Strands of hair had worked free from her plait and stuck to the dried blood like veins. Their assailants had fashioned a stretcher for her from tree branches and the large, broad leaves from the forest below, but Noor was so tall it took four of them to drag her in it, the lower end with her feet scuffing awkwardly across the floor.
They were taken through dark, narrow corridors, clad from floor to ceiling in metal panels and large, rounded rivets holding the panels in place. Every door was closed, made of the same metal as the floor and the walls, with nothing unique to identify where they were or to give Fia any sense of location.
They stopped at a large room with what were unmistakably cells running down either side. Fia was ushered inside, and Noor was dragged in behind her, deposited in the corner on her makeshift stretcher.
“Wait, she needs help—” The solid metal door shut behind her as Fia fell in a bundle to the floor.
She kicked at the metal and fought back the stinging threat of tears. She was exhausted, Noor was probably dead, and she’d come all this way only to be scooped up into the sky, quite possibly to be killed. She swallowed deep breaths of air and kicked at the door again. Don’t lose it. Keep it together.
Fia let out a soft whistle at the sound of Noor’s quiet groan. It was the tiniest of sounds, but enough to snap Fia out of her panic. Noor was trying to sit up, and Fia helped to prop her up against the wall of the cell.
“I’m sorry,” Noor croaked, “they must have known I’m a witch. We stood no chance.”
“What? What are you talking about? They hit you on the head.” Fia pulled off her hoodie and used some of the water from Noor’s container to wet the cleanest part of the fabric she could find. She dabbed gently at the wound on Noor’s head. “It was like I’d been drugged. Everything went really...grey. There were birds, and it was foggy, and for a few seconds I was somewhere completely different.” She shook her head. As soon as it had begun, it was over, and Noor had been lying there on the floor, very still, like Sophie. She felt that sickly pain in the pit of her stomach she’d felt so many times before.
Fia wiped the crusted blood from Noor’s eye, passing her the water container.
“You were not drugged, Fia. There are many things a witch can do. Illusion is just one of them.”
“You did that?” Fia asked. “How?”
The dark cell changed to a lush green meadow around them. Noor’s head was clean, and the wound was gone. Noor continued to talk, as they sat together in the meadow, a soft breeze rustling the flowers and the grass. “Illusion can be used for many things, defence mostly, but many use it for other reasons. Deceit, seduction, anything you can think of.” The meadow faded, and they were sitting in the cold cell again.
“Wow. I would never leave the illusion if I could do that.”
“Reality is usually better,” Noor replied, looking around their cell. “My home is in a forest, like the most beautiful and wondrous illusion you could ever imagine, but it’s real, hidden away from others for us to enjoy and feel at peace.” She shifted her weight as she reached for a leather bundle tucked into her belt.
“I’d hoped to take you myself to the forest, Fia. You’d have liked it.” Noor closed her eyes. “Now, we must get you out of here, and you must go to the witches. I have something I need to do before I can leave.”
“Wait, me? What about you? We’re both getting out of here together. Those cat-things are fast, but I think we can take them. I can fight, you know.” Fia hid the tremble in her voice. She could fight, but she didn’t think they stood much chance. They were completely outnumbered. But what worried her more, was how she would find the witch coven alone.
“Those little creatures are the Aurelli. They are incredibly swift and light on their feet. If we are in an airship, which I believe we are, then they must be working for the Makya, because no one else in Ohinyan would have such a vessel.”
Fia got up and walked to the back wall of the cell. There was a small window, like a porthole in a ship, above her head. She held onto the edges of the window, put her feet on two of the large bolts in the wall, and pulled herself up to peer out of it. They were high in the clouds with glimpses of blue sky every now and again. She let her focus shift to her reflection in the glass, the first time she’d seen herself since falling into Ohinyan. Her green eyes were bright and alert, and her hair was so dirty it covered any tinges of red. She stepped down and looked at the floor in a daze. There was nothing but clouds outside the window.
“Noor, there’s no way out of here until it lands. Unless you have a secret broomstick.”
“What need would I have for a broomstick?”
“You don’t—never mind.”
Noor fastened a string around the small leather pouch she’d removed from her belt, turning it into a makeshift necklace. “Listen, Fia, we don’t have much time. The Aurelli do not speak our language because they are more like animals than men. They rarely make any sound at all. There is no way we can convince them to help us quickly. It will take time if I can convince them at all. Whatever it is the Makya have offered them, I very much doubt we will be able to better it, unless your pockets are lined with gold coins.”
“But I heard one of them saying something, she was pleading with the others, before we were pushed into the pods. I thought it was you at first, but then I couldn’t make out the words, it was a bit of a jumble, to be honest—”
“You heard what they said?”
“I heard that they said something, but not the words, though.”
Noor smiled, “You are…’ She shook her head. “There are very few with this gift. You can hear what the creatures say. I have never met anyone who could. How long have you been able to hear them?”
“I didn’t know. I mean, back in London, I thought I was hearing voices, but maybe they were in here,” Fia said, reaching up to tap her bandage. “And I hit my head quite hard when I fell into Ohinyan.”
“For now, it may only seem like just voices, but with focus, you may be able to speak with them.”
“Talk to creatures, to animals? Am I…am I crazy?”
Noor chuckled. “No. I told you, you are not here entirely by chance. We have been looking for you for some time. There are stories of you amongst the witches, Fia.”
“What kind of stories?”
“Of how you can help us. I’ll tell you everything you need to know as soon as we meet again, but for now, I need you to look after this for me.” She looped the necklace around Fia’s neck and tucked the pouch into her top. “I’ll tell you what to do with it when I catch up with you, but for now I just need you to look after it.”<
br />
Fia patted the pouch to check it was secure and gave a dutiful nod. You can do this you can do this you can do this.
“Back in the loading bay, some of the pods are not just for transport. They’re small vehicles for flight,” Noor said.
Fia could see where this was going.
“They’re easy to fly—a handle that turns will bring one to life, another will steer it. You just need to get it to the ground. I’m going to create a distraction, but you must remember that the layout of the airship will remain the same despite what you see, so that you can get out.” Noor walked over to the window, faltering only slightly to look out as Fia had done before, stooping a little to examine the clouds. “Once you get to the loading bay, there will be several levers, some are for raising and lowering the transport pods, and the largest is for opening the loading bay doors. Once they’re open, you need to get into one of the release pods and get out. I’ll meet you down on the ground, but you’ll need to hide the pod. I’ll come and find you.”
Fia paced the cell, counting her breaths. “We’ll go together.” Her hands were tight balls at her sides. You can do this. Could she, though? Could she fight her way through a strange world, alone? What if she never found the witches? What if they didn’t know how to send her back? You can do this.
With a gentle laugh, Noor rested a hand on Fia’s shoulder. “Fia, I have fought in many battles and been captured many times. I have survived far worse than this. I can defend myself in more ways than one. I’ll see you on the ground.” Noor smiled and handed the blood-stained hoodie back to Fia. “You’ll need this more than me.”
Fia nodded, tying the hoodie around her waist, and breathed in a few deep breaths. Within seconds, Noor had leapt up to the metal rafters above them and perched in waiting like a tiger ready to pounce.
“They’re coming,” she whispered, and the room changed colours. It was a forest. The smell of pine needles and damp soil filled the air. Trees dripped with fresh rainwater and there were rabbits, everywhere, little grey rabbits with round, black eyes like glass beads. Fia looked at her hands. She was a rabbit, too.
The Third Sun (Daughter of the Phoenix Book One) Page 5
