facing each other but a good thirty feet apart. Unbidden, the fireflies began gathering below a small aperture in the cave roof to form a pillar of light between the three of them. The column grew to reach the vaulted cave ceiling and was so wide Seb could no longer see either Mr Duir or Heath.
Mr Duir called out, “Seb, they may pass through you but they will not harm you. You must stand firm.”
There was a sudden blinding flash and within the shining column a huge, dark shape formed, solidifying into a massive, gnarled tree trunk inside which was a door, its wood panels as black as charcoal. Its silver doorknob was tarnished and pitted and worn away on one side from who knew how many openings. The tree trunk rose above them and from it thick branches spread across the empty expanse of the cave, leaves, tinted with autumn colours, unfurling from them.
Staring at the tree, Seb heard his stomach growl, then he realised the sound wasn’t his stomach; it was the creaking, groaning of the age-old door as it gradually opened. Swinging outward it passed through him and an eerie whispering sound rose from the dark chasm it revealed, setting his nerves on edge. His palm throbbed. He heard a muttered word from Heath and then Mr Duir said something, but he couldn’t understand them.
The whispering grew louder. Seb stood still as he had been instructed, trying to fight the fear he was feeling, forcing himself to trust Mr Duir as the throbbing of his hand got stronger. He felt a cold touch reach out of the blackness, as if a finger had been placed on his forehead … then another, two fingers, and then more. They moved down his cheeks and jaw until they found his throat. Like icy talons, they took hold around his neck and began grasping, squeezing.
They may pass through you, Mr Duir had said.
They’re not passing through me, they’re strangling me! Seb began to panic. He tried to yell out, “I can’t breathe!” but the words were stifled as the grip on his throat tightened.
He heard a shout and the swishing of sword blades followed by the drumming of footfalls as another ice-cold hand moved down his left arm towards his wrist. The whispering had become hoarse laughter. Gasping for air and about to lose consciousness he felt a sudden drag on his shoulders. He was lifted off his feet and swept away from the grizzled old tree. The hold the fingers had on him was wrenched free and he could now breathe but he had no energy. His neck burned, his hand throbbed and his ears rang with the sound of a frustrated, angry yell as Mr Duir carried him across the water.
The Head placed him on the bank and Seb was surprised to hear Nat say, “I’ll take care of him.”
The sound of marching feet surrounded him and Seb tried to open his eyes. He could see flashes of white and red and the glint of metal. He felt Nat’s warm hands as, kneeling on her haunches, she pulled his shoulders up to cradle his head on her lap. He tried to sit.
“Not yet,” Nat cautioned. “It is not done yet.”
Seb craned his head to look across the lake. Within the protective circle of a cohort of Sentinels his view was limited but he saw enough. Mr Duir was standing on the lake, halfway between the bank and the dark mass of the overarching tree. Around him a vast patch of grey cloud circled. He stood, head bowed, and slowly removed his jacket. The remaining Sentinels had formed an outer circle around him and the grey mist.
Seb moved his head with difficulty, searching for Heath. He couldn’t see him anywhere. His hand pounded and he groaned.
“Seb, shh,” Nat whispered. “He is distracted.”
“Who … distracted from what?” he whispered back.
She didn’t answer and Seb again looked out across the lake. The mass of grey swirled around Mr Duir; the Sentinels stood motionless, swords drawn and glinting in the occasional light as fireflies began to emerge from the trunk of the tree; only a few at first and then a torrent of them.
Mr Duir still stood, head down, his right hand grasping his left wrist in front of his body. He didn’t move.
Seb could once more hear the whispering sound which turned into dull moaning. He felt a chill and the pain in his palm became stronger.
Now Mr Duir raised his left hand, and then the grey cloud swooped; in a sudden rush it shot towards him. Within a second the mass had engulfed him. In the same second the Sentinels hurtled towards him, swords in front of them. But to Seb’s horror none of them swung their weapons to try and attack this cloud. Reaching Mr Duir they stopped abruptly, placed the points of their swords onto the surface of the water and froze, a foot away from him.
Seb was about to yell at the Sentinels to help when a multitude of blurry green trails appeared. Emerging from the cave walls they zoomed towards the massive tree and then, uniting, swept upward through the branches in a single, large line, directly above Mr Duir. Dryads!
Seb was relieved but wondered why they weren’t attacking the ghostly cloud which had surrounded The Head. And then he realised: flying up through the tangled mass of foliage the Dryads forced a path through the knotted branches, tearing them apart, allowing a shaft of sunlight to shine through. As it did, the Sentinels dropped to one knee, tilting their swords back.
Seb could clearly see the ghostly shroud now twisting and writhing around Mr Duir and then light burst from within it. Mr Duir’s silhouette became visible inside. Still with his left arm raised, he captured the light from above and reflected it onto one Sentinel’s sword. The sword shaft, flat to the front, sloped towards the edge on both sides, reflected the light to the swords beside it which in turn passed it on to their neighbour. In less than a heartbeat the Sentinels had formed a ring of reflected light which now shone back towards the grey mass of cloud. As light hit it the cloud vaporised and dissolved into nothing.
The whole event had taken less than a minute and now Mr Duir was free. Without pause he ran through the ranks of the Sentinels. They stood up, raised their swords and, forming a line behind him, marched to the vast tree. Now hundreds of Dryads materialised around the trunk and Seb was thrilled to see Alice among them. He glanced over at Seb, gave him a wink and then proudly stood beside Dierne.
Everyone was still. Mr Duir seemed to be contemplating the dark opening in front of him.
“What’s going on?” Seb tried to ask Alice but the Dryad still couldn’t hear him.
There was no sign of Heath. Remembering the icy fingers around his neck Seb shivered and felt a pang of guilt. Had Heath been grabbed by those cold hands? Had Mr Duir, in rescuing him, not had the time to save Heath?
Awkwardly, Seb stood up. Nat protested but he ignored her. Stumbling on shaky legs he walked to the lake bank. Two Sentinels accompanied him. Stepping onto the water, trusting the imps, he walked as steadily as he could towards the Dryads and Mr Duir.
“No, Seb,” Mr Duir cautioned as Seb was about halfway across the lake. “He will try again.”
Seb’s heart thumped. He stopped where he was. “Who will?”
In a stern voice Mr Duir said, “Return to your friends.”
Seb felt anger take over. “If you would tell me what’s happening then maybe I would stop being a liability and could start helping.” He was shocked at how loud he had shouted. He realised he was clenching his fists, glaring across at The Head.
Alice flitted over and placed a hand on his shoulder.
Watching them, Mr Duir said more softly, “Dryad, take him back. Dierne and The Caretaker will help.”
Seb glanced back across the lake. The Caretaker had appeared and, assisted by Nat, was waking the others. By the time Seb turned back to the tree Mr Duir was disappearing through the dark void in its trunk. He went alone, without even one look back. As the darkness swallowed him the door swung closed and fizzled out of existence. There was a frenzy of green as the Dryads, except Dierne, departed, then four Sentinels turned and stood guard in front of the area where the door had been.
Into the Darkness
Seb trudged back across the water to the bank.
“So he’s gone where?” he asked Alice.
“I don’t know.”
Dierne zoomed over. “He has gone to find Heath.
“Is that door like all the others then; can he go straight to Heath through it?” Seb asked.
“Not like the others. The Elder Door takes the Custodian to where they want to go, not where there is a need for them to be.” Dierne sounded sad.
Nat, kneeling beside Zach, leapt up as Seb approached.
“Seb, what were you thinking? It was so dangerous,” she rebuked him and then suddenly flung her arms around him. Seb, embarrassed, tentatively hugged her back.
“Nice.” Alice beamed and whizzed over to examine Zach who lay on his back, mouth open, snoring. Dierne went to speak with The Caretaker.
Releasing her grip of Seb, Nat stepped back.
“Sorry to shout, and what you do is your business, but I was worried.” She appeared coy. The moment was interrupted by a snort from Zach which was so loud he woke himself up. He lurched to his feet and got his bearings in an instant.
“Did I doze off? That couldn’t have happened.”
Alice laughed. “Obviously it could.”
The Caretaker had been round to each of the sleepers and given them a sip of a liquid to counteract the sleeping draft. They woke with varying degrees of alertness. Miss West was on her feet immediately.
“Where are the Elders? Where is Aelfric?” she demanded.
“He went through the doorway,” Dierne said as The Caretaker tried to coax the dying fire back to life.
Miss West looked as though she