Book of Fire: a debut fantasy perfect for fans of The Hunger Games, Divergent and The Maze Runner. Michelle Kenney

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ visible just beneath the rushing water. This was the trickiest part of the return journey, and timing was paramount. The river lowered twice a day, making the swirling water passable if you followed a specific route. Time it incorrectly, and the current would sweep you away and drop you over a fifty-foot waterfall. Eventually.

      Eli went first, leaping nimbly from stone to stone, while I followed closely behind. We reached the other side without mishap, and ducked beneath a protruding rock. It concealed the entrance to a small cramped cave, which always looked so unremarkable at a glance. This was the beauty of our valley home, and its discovery was retold at special Council gatherings, as a rite of passage.

      It was while Thomas had been hiding meagre food supplies that he made the chance discovery: a heavy metal disc concealing a slim dark tunnel and ice-cold water. Some believed it to be a disused mineshaft, others part of the old-world sewerage system. Either way, he glimpsed a stream of natural light, and desperate to protect his small following, climbed down into the icy water.

      The Council said he likened his first discovery of our hidden world to waking in Eden. I could understand why. I hated the tunnel, but it made the emergence into the sudden light and sanctuary of our valley so special. He named the valley Arafel there and then – lest we forget, he said, the dust clouds we were leaving behind. A few called the Hebrew name spiritual protection, but I suspected it was the solid rock between ourselves and the Lifedome, we really needed to bless.

      Taking one last look at the dusky forest behind me, I ducked into the cave to find Eli already sending his kill down the tunnel using our system of pulleys. Once the rope went slack, he pulled it taut three times, the general signal that all was clear, and stood aside to let me go first.

      ‘Race you to dinner!’ I threw back before dropping like an arrow into the freezing water. The temperature was always glacial, and hit my chest like a rock. I grabbed the guide line and followed it to the dark wall, before inhaling deeply and diving down into the blackness below.

      This was the worst part for me, blindly gripping a line and pushing against constrictive tunnel walls that scraped at and dug into my cold skin. And it was always just as my suppressed panic threatened to burst, that the tunnel would rise sharply, spitting me ungracefully into a pool of water at the back of a much larger cave. I swallowed hard to ease my protesting ears, and gazed out at my favourite view in the whole world: Arafel.

      The lazy afternoon sun was still bathing our woodland sanctuary, which was completely encircled by high, white peaks. The Great War had left its mark on our landscape, as well as the northern climate, and much of it was unrecognizable from before. Only an Insider Eagle aircraft could chance a glimpse of our village, but the Insiders dispatched them rarely, and it seemed the prospect of a descent through close, angular rock faces discouraged even their most skilled pilots. Thomas had made few rules, but the secrecy of Arafel’s location was considered sacrosanct – something no one ever questioned.

      Two sets of strong arms plunged in to pull me out as I reached the edge of the pool, and I smiled my thanks as I was thrust a woollen blanket. Wrapping it swiftly around my cold limbs, I gazed out at our small forest village. The maze of interconnected treehouses, just visible among the leafy foliage, reflected one of the pillar beliefs of our community, and the hum of ordinary village duties reached out like an old friend.

      It looked as though evening chores were underway. Resisting chickens were being rounded up, a wooden coop was being mended, Jed was adjusting one of the rudimentary crop sprinklers and, judging by the noise, work was continuing on the drainage system.

      In truth, we lived like kings compared to Thomas’s time. When everyone else had abandoned their homes for the protection of the Lifedome, my ancestors had placed their faith in the natural world. And, despite its terrifying destruction and slow recovery, I couldn’t be more grateful. Life was raw, we rarely knew where the next meal was coming from, and we had precious few expectations. But we were free.

      I looked back, waiting for Eli to surface. He always did so with a smile on his face and didn’t disappoint this time. I helped pull him from the black water, and passed him a dry woollen blanket from the stack in the corner.

      ‘How on earth can you enjoy it?!’ I signed, pulling a face.

      He flicked water from his sandy hair, making me step back rapidly. His grey-blue eyes shone with silent laughter and I chuckled, feeling the last of my stress melt away.

      ‘Hey, nice work, you two,’ Raoul called from the mouth of the cave. Eli’s catch was already attracting a small crowd. ‘Sausages for breakfast, lunch, and dinner ’til Christmas!’

      Laughter rippled through the evening air, as we grabbed our bags and made for the entrance.

      ‘Don’t forget the greens.’ I winked, emptying the contents of my leather rations bag onto the homemade twig-and-twine platters, before walking away. My hoard comprised a wide selection of wild herbs, edible berries, field mushrooms, and my best find of the day: a whole branch of sweet, ripe apricots – Joe would definitely put those to good use.

      ‘Great forage, Talia!’ Raoul called, tossing back two of the apricots.

      I spun to catch them deftly, before replacing them carefully in my rations bag. Grandpa never ceased to be amazed at the variety of fruit I foraged. He remembered when fruit didn’t grow at all except in the most isolated, sheltered areas; and most of that was withered and spoiled. His generation had a real problem with scurvy. Nowadays, we had our pick of many different exotic fruits, which would never have found a home in the forest before – one of the benefits of catastrophic climate change, or so the Council Elders said.

      With the excitement of fresh food supplies growing, we made our excuses and started for home – an old treehouse situated a little way into Arafel’s forest. It was one of the first to be built, and Thomas’s plans for the village were still etched out in charcoal on the living-space floor. Grandpa said it blessed our home, and reminded us how Thomas always trusted in the recovery of the natural world.

      ‘Eli … Talia, is that you?’ Daniel – one of Grandpa’s friends – called out as we started for home through the trees. He shuffled across the leafy forest floor and, grasping Eli’s hand, shook it profusely. My brother grinned from ear to ear as I rolled my eyes. Eli was going to be able to live off the boar glory for days at this rate.

      Nodding politely, I widened my eyes at Eli. He understood. Mum worried so much when we were outside, and all I could think about was watching the colour return to her face when she saw us. We walked swiftly, but were only a few metres on when we were interrupted again.

      ‘Apricots they said? It’s not even June! You really are the craziest queen of foraging!’

      This time, it was my turn to smile before peering through the trees in the direction of the teasing voice. Max was a couple years older than us. He was also a close friend, natural athlete, and one of the best treehouse builders in the village. He and his dad had designed the new open-air tree showers, and everyone was looking forward to washing without the complimentary mud footbath their predecessor had provided. Max, like Eli and a couple of his friends, were also gifted hunters, and willingly took extra shifts outside the village to boost meat stocks.

      ‘I saved you one, but I want to trade!’ I challenged, ignoring the faint frown on Eli’s face.

      Reaching into my leather pouch, I held the promised golden-yellow treat high, turning slowly on the spot so he could appreciate its unusually perfect, ripened form.

      ‘Well, now I’m intrigued. What could the queen of foraging, teacher of … old stuff and OK, not half-bad tree-runner, СКАЧАТЬ