Elevation 3: The Fiery Spiral. Helen Brain

it. She said to Micah, ‘I was really surprised when Ebba went through with your plan. I didn’t think she had it in her. I underestimated her.’”

      “What did Micah say?” It’s like the sun has risen in my heart. I can’t wait to get home now, and to be in his arms again.

      “He said, ‘I knew she’d do it. Now you see why I love her so much.’”

      We’ve just set off when Isi’s barks echo across the landscape. “Come on, girl,” I call, searching for her. “We’re going home. We’re going back to Greenhaven.”

      Her barks turn to howls but I can’t work out where she is. At last I see her, standing on top of a rocky outcrop far away from the path we’re taking.

      “She’s stuck! She can’t get down.”

      “Your mom was just so, always fussing over the dog. She’ll be fine. She’ll find her way down. They always do. Come on.”

      Reluctantly I walk on with him, but Isi’s howls grow more desperate. “I have to go and help her down. I can’t leave her there.”

      His eyebrows draw together like Leonid’s. I bite my lip, keep walking. I don’t want him to be cross with me … but … this is Isi.

      I take his hand and squeeze it. “Please. It won’t take a moment. I’ll be back in a minute.”

      His jaw clenches and I think he will say no, but instead he says, “Fine, but fetch her and come straight back. The portal won’t stay open for long. Once it’s shut, there’s no way home.”

      I run across the veld, and as I approach, Isi’s howls turn to whines. She’s way up at the top of the rocks. They’re five white, rounded boulders, like huge eggs upended in the sand. How did she even get up there? “Come on, girl. Come down,” I call, reaching the first rock. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

      She gives her warning bark, her eyes fixed on my father, who is following behind me. Then she whimpers, gazing at me desperately as I clamber up the smooth side of the rock, grasping for any foothold.

      When I reach the top, she licks my hand, still whimpering. What’s wrong with her? I need to make a leash to get her down. I bite the hem of my robe and rip off a strip of fabric long enough to knot around her collar.

      My father has stopped about twenty metres from the rocks. He’s watching us, hands on his hips, and Isi goes almost hysterical, backing away from him, barking and growling, towards the far edge of the rock.

      “Come on, Ebba,” he calls. “We have to get going.”

      I loop the leash around her collar, but when I try and pull her forward, she breaks free, runs away and disappears down the back of the rock. I run after her. The five rocks form a circle and she’s fallen into the gap at the centre. There’s no way she can get out. I can’t even see her down there.

      “Just leave the dog!” my father calls. “Come on, we don’t have time.”

      I gnaw on my lip. I can’t leave her here. Or will she be alright? This is Celestia. Surely the same rules don’t apply as they do on Earth? Maybe Lucas is somewhere around, and I can leave her to him? But there’s no sign of him. Just rock and red sand and my father glowering at me. Isi is whimpering from below. Is she in pain?

      I lean over the edge. She’s lying under the overhang, just her back legs and tail visible from up here. Why is her leg at that strange angle? Has she broken it? I lean over further, and my foot slips on the smooth surface. I slide, reaching wildly, but there’s nothing to grab. Shrieking, I shoot right down the rock, over the edge, and plunge into the gap.

      CHAPTER 3

      LUCAS

      For three days I proceed in a northerly direction, studying the remarkable flora and fauna of Celestia. I am relieved to be able to push all thoughts of Earth and of what transpired in the council chamber out of my mind. Isi trots next to me, delighted with her freedom to run around freely and hunt for lizards. I eat fruit and nuts from the trees, and drink sweet water from the streams. At night I curl up under a bush, and the cold does not bother me, neither does the hard ground.

      On the fourth morning Isi disappears. Shortly afterwards, I come across a curious arrangement of ovoid white rocks, alabaster-like, forming a circle. I inspect them from all angles. They’re taller than I am, and half buried in the sand. The surface is smooth. Similar to the skin on the inside of Ebba’s wrists. But that’s not a good analogy. I need a more scientific way to describe it, although her skin is so very pale, and the veins show blue against it, just as this rock has streaks of cream and pink running through it.

      I touch the rock with my fingertips, and instantly a door opens and an elderly man looks up at me.

      “Francis,” he says, holding out his hand. “Come inside, Lucas.”

      He barely reaches my chest. Although he is a cripple, he strikes me as a person even my father would respect. His eyes are fierce, and his intelligence apparent in his high forehead and perceptive eyes.

      I follow him inside, curious to see how he lives inside this rock.

      “Take a seat, young man.”

      I take the hard, straight-backed chair he shows me. He sits opposite me in a red armchair, rests his canes against the arm, and his hands in his lap. Then, silence.

      My fingers trace the carved pattern on the armrests, where the wood twists and turns into leaves and fruit I can’t identify. I examine the room. We are inside the rock but its wafer-thin walls are luminous, letting the light in from outside, forming a seamless curve with the roof. Francis is obviously a man of learning. The desk under the window shows signs of recent work: there’s a quill pen in an ink stand, and a pair of rimless glasses rest on the pages of a leather-bound book. However, the thing that most intrigues me is the row of books lined up along the mantelpiece. He is a scholar, and I have dreamed all my life of meeting someone who was fortunate enough to devote their life to scholarship.

      “And have you enjoyed your first few days in Celestia?” His hands rest quietly in his lap, and his question is not asked in the manner of the idle chatter I know from Earth. His head is tilted slightly to one side as he watches me with his brown, birdlike eyes. He’s interested in my response, and I become flustered by his attention, stopping and starting to speak before breaking off into a fit of coughing.

      “You find this a difficult question?”

      I try to gather my thoughts. He doesn’t appear to be aggressive. He’s not trying to trick me or expose me, so I take a chance and engage with him in conversation. “On Earth if one could not display dominance, like my younger brother Hal, or follow the leader submissively, one was nothing.”

      “And you do not have the gift either for dominance or for submission?”

      “Precisely.” He is astonishingly adept at reading personality. “I have always wanted to forge my own path, away from the crowds. I can do that here. Nobody bothering me, nobody wanting anything. I’m free to do exactly what I wish, when I wish.”

      Silence. A good, peaceful silence lies across the room, like a large dog relaxing in front of the fire.

      “You are interested in my books?” His eyes twinkle as he catches me trying to read the titles from my seat.

      “A person could spend a thousand years here and still not know the names of all the plants. Do you have a book listing the flora and fauna?”

      “Ah, Lucas,” he says, shaking his head so his white hair shimmers. “Always so fond of the list. There’s nothing wrong with lists, but there is more to you than your mind. What about your heart? Will it stagnate forever?”

      “It’s not stagnating.”