Did You Never Dream of Flying?

Did You Never Dream of Flying?

  Episode 3 of The Rabbit Hole

  A Story of the Second Realm

  By R.J. Davnall

  Copyright 2013 R. J. Davnall

  This ebook may be copied, distributed, reposted, reprinted and shared, provided it appears in its entirety without alteration, and the reader is not charged to access it.

  The Second Realm

  Season 1: The Second Gift

  Season 2: Children of the Wild

  The Rabbit Hole:

  Episode 1: Through the Fire and Flames

  Episode 2: The Sins of the Brother

  https://itsthefuturestupid.blogspot.com/

  Contents

  Did You Never Dream of Flying?

  About the Author

  The Rabbit Hole

  3. Did You Never Dream of Flying?

  Atla jumped back from the Gateway as it snapped open, an oval puddle of sky suddenly replacing the paving just in front of him. The movement drew puzzled looks from Pevan and Chag, and he felt heat rush into his cheeks. It was hard not to feel like an idiot child in front of Pevan's frown. Probably all northern Gifted were that intense.

  She waved him towards the Gate, and he stumbled, almost complying on reflex. His blush got so hot that it sent shivers crawling through him, but he made himself face her. "I... uh, I don't..."

  "You've never used a Gate before?" She rolled her eyes, and Atla's spirit sank into the pit of his guts.

  "I have, but, uh, not for a while." They were both glaring at him. If anything, Van Raighan seemed more disappointed than Pevan. The thief had recovered disconcertingly quickly since they'd found him, semi-conscious in the basement of a ruin by the shorefront, though he still looked haggard and gnomish. Atla cringed. "I'm sorry."

  "Not your fault, kiddo." Pevan punched Chag on the arm, not hard enough for the little man to object. To him, she said, "Wipe that look off your face. Have you ever worked with a Guide before? Or a Clearseer, for that matter?"

  The thief shot her a sullen look. "Kind of. Not much, I guess."

  "Right." Pevan's tone hadn't lost its sharp edge, but Atla thought he could hear a bit of lightness creeping in underneath it. "Well since you're so knowledgeable, you get through and be ready to catch the poor boy." She turned to Atla, face softening. "You know what to do, right? Just lean through and let Chag worry about getting you straight."

  Atla managed to nod as Van Raighan dropped into the Gate, rolling half-way down so he'd be the right way up on the far side. The movement seemed to come naturally to him. Atla's throat tightened.

  Pevan clapped him on the arm. "Go on. Just go for it. Chag's brother was a Gatemaker, he knows his stuff."

  He swallowed, the motion painful and cold, and walked round to stand at one end of the Gate. The sky above it was blue, patched with clouds that were more grey and drab than white and fluffy. Van Raighan looked up at him from a wide-legged pose along one side of the opening, and some trick of perspective made him seem squashed, his head only a few inches beyond his knees. Atla gave up squinting to try to make sense of the illusion, and started to lean forwards.

  He held his knees straight, reaching down with one arm until his weight began to topple into the Gateway. Chag reached up toward him, an up that became down as he let his knees give out and his head plunged through the surface. There was no sensation as the Gate swallowed him.

  Then there was the wrench on his arm as Chag caught his wrist and heaved, and the clumsy scrabble of feet that got him round to standing. He swayed once, leaning on the thief for balance, then managed to step away from the Gate. Clear and safe, he bent double, panting. By the time he'd straightened up, Pevan was standing by Van Raighan and the Gateway was gone.

  They were on the hilltop above Vessit, with the old city sprawling before them. From the view, you'd hardly imagine that yesterday the far side of the bay had been sticking up at close to vertical. The clues were there, though - the battered shapes of the new town, the lack of trawlers out beyond the bay's mouth. This high up, the wind was vicious, and he had to grab at the tie of his makeshift cloak to stop it slipping.

  "The nearest Sherim's the one in the Tuani, right?" Pevan asked.

  Atla nodded.

  "Okay, we've got a lot of ground to cover. Let's get moving." For a moment, he thought she meant they'd walk, but then she turned and waved a new Gate into being at her feet.

  Van Raighan turned to face him. "Should I take that?" He gestured at the half-loaf, all that was left of their meagre lunch, now slowly being squashed in the crook of Atla's arm.

  "Absolutely not." This time, there was definitely mirth in Pevan's tart tone. "You'll nibble it 'til there's nothing left. Get moving."

  The thief shot her a look, but dropped through the Gate anyway. Atla followed, a little less clumsily this time. The Gateway brought them out in the lee of a small wood, alive with birdsong, oddly incongruous with the devastated town on the other side of the hill. Pevan closed her Gate before her boots had even struck turf, and the next blinked open right on its heels.

  They fell into a rhythm as they headed East, broken by Pevan's bantering at Van Raighan. Both of them occasionally paused to offer Atla some tip or pointer on smoothing out his Gating technique, and before long he was jumping through unaided. If he lacked the practiced grace of the others, at least he didn't have to deal with the hot, shameful feeling of slowing them down.

  Not that he didn't make occasional mistakes. After a stumbled landing toppled him back into the Gate to zig-zag back and forth between gravities, Pevan had to drag him free. She called Chag back through while Atla lay down and tried to settle his churning stomach. The thief muttered something to her and she thumped him, then offered Atla the canteen she'd guarded jealously since Vessit.

  He took a sip, rinsed his mouth and spat on the grass. It seemed to help. She helped him up, waved away his mumbled apology. "Everyone makes mistakes. Don't let Chag get to you."

  "I'm not. I mean, uh-" He bit his lip. "You must find it annoying to have to wait for me. I should be better than this."

  "That's why you're training, dummy." She grinned and clapped him on the shoulder.

  "Training? He's not qualified?" Van Raighan scowled as if someone had just kicked him in the shins.

  Pevan's face darkened. "If I was in a position to be picky about who I work with, neither of you would be here. Now get moving." She waved her hand, and Chag yelped as the Gate opened right underneath his feet. Pevan's scowl lasted only a fraction of a second past the thief's departure, and then she shot Atla a smirk. "Like I said, don't let him get to you. He's as bad as Rel sometimes."

  Atla jumped through, barely noticing the twist in his stomach as the Gate flipped gravity upside down. Van Raighan looked a lot older than Pevan, his face lined and almost shrivelled, but it was hard to believe it from the way she treated him.

  The landscape grew steeper and the wind colder as the afternoon wore on. Here and there, he saw signs of the quake; downed trees, mainly, and one or two old pre-crash buildings that had crumbled. For the most part, though, the Realm looked untouched. Sheep grazed on the rolling slopes, and there were already flowers in many of the hedgerows and copses.

  Progress slowed as they ascended the foothills of the Tuani and entered pine forest too thick for Pevan to sight through; she made them walk and scramble the rest of the way. It was dark under the trees, but enough of the cold late afternoon sunlight got through that, after a fashion, it felt comfortable and sheltered. Bluebells nestled in the crooks of tree roots, and if they couldn't see the squirrels and other creatures that were busy at work, they could hear them.

  They passed a pine that had fallen in the quake, but been caught half-wa
y down in the branches of its neighbour, so that it put Atla in mind of a man helping a drunken friend home. Not long after that, they caught their first glimpse of a fire through the trees.

  The first time he saw it, Atla's heart caught in his throat. The Ralbas had lost their house in Vessit because the quake had knocked some of the boards from their roof into the fire. There'd been no obvious signs of a forest fire, but it had been a long time since they'd had a clear view of the slope ahead.

  He brought up the possibility, but Pevan, peering into the distance, shook her head. "Aren't animals supposed to flee forest fires? It's probably just hunters camping early."

  She had them approach the fire silently and slowly, an instruction that left Chag cursing with a twisted ankle. Pevan told him to get over it, but Atla switched the half-eaten loaf to his other hand and offered the little man a supporting arm. Chag raised an eyebrow, but accepted the help with a gruff "Thanks".

  Inwardly, Atla found himself sharing Van Raighan's surprise. There was little of the dreaded, subtle master-criminal in the ungainly sack of bones he found himself supporting. If anything, the thief seemed badly under-nourished. What Atla had initially taken for a wiry build was just fragility. At least it made helping him easier.

  Only as they emerged into the clearing where the fire stood did Atla appreciate how late the day had gotten. The sky had turned