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  I glanced helplessly at Mum’s ashen profile. Grandpa was so weak. I couldn’t even see how he would survive the exit from our village, he hadn’t been outside in a decade. I knew Eli would look out for him, but if Eli was looking out for Grandpa, no one was looking out for Eli. I bit my lower lip until I tasted the faint bitterness of blood, it did nothing to still the panic inside.

  ‘Tal … Talia?’ Mum’s terse voice sounded distant, as though she were calling through a thick fog.

  ‘You must take the book; it can’t stay here. It’s too precious.’

  I stared blankly for a moment, before the full force of her words hit me. I held the most precious item in Arafel in my hands as though it were a basket of potatoes on market day, and it was already attracting curious glances.

  Five minutes later, I was weaving through the dark forest in the direction of our treehouse. It hadn’t taken long to persuade the guards of my need to return, being Grandpa’s granddaughter had its advantages.

  The muted call of an owl rang out behind me before it swooped low, and found a place to rest in the low-hanging branches silhouetted just ahead. It did little to calm my nerves. I loved my forest home but the silence tonight was eerie, and when I reached our treehouse, I scaled the willow ladder swiftly. Jas greeted me, and I rubbed her favourite milky-white spot behind her black-tipped ears with affection, enjoying her warm breath on my skin.

  ‘Now where to hide the thing?’ I muttered, scanning our living space for inspiration. The Book of Arafel was revered, and there were a number in the Council who would jump at the opportunity to take it into ‘safekeeping’. Jas mewed plaintively, and I spun on the spot to eye her bed and empty food bowl.

  ‘Of course! Good girl, Jas!’ I whispered, running to her bed area and pulling her large woven basket to one side. Jas could be pretty formidable and highly protective of her family home. I wished any intruder all the luck in the world if they decided to inspect her bed.

  Once the book was stowed under one of the old loose boards beneath Jas’s bed, I crouched beside the stew pot, and ladled some of its warm contents into her bowl. She emptied it in seconds, before creeping under my arm. I looked into her cool yellow eyes as I hugged her close.

  Eli and Grandpa were both so goddamned selfless they would probably break their own necks trying to look out for one another. Then there was Max, Max my annoying, do-anything-for-anyone best friend. Only, I quite liked him annoying me – I’d got used to it.

  I gritted my teeth. There was only one possible way in the world I could keep an eye on them all.

  Purpose flooded my cold limbs, and I leapt up abruptly, startling Jas.

  ‘Sorry, girl,’ I apologized, soothing her disgruntled yowling with an extra large ladle of stew.

  Two minutes later I was sprinting through the dark forest, my leather rations bag over my shoulder. The soft, rhythmic padding of paws behind me alerted me to Jas’s tail, and I was grateful for her company, if only for a short while. The trees were hung with a clingy mist, broken by just a few determined stars, but I was grateful for the cover as I leapt over mossy boulders and ducked beneath sharp branches.

  I knew the forest of Arafel like the back of my hand, particularly the route to the exit cave, but night-time excursions were always discouraged by the Council. I didn’t flout the rules like Max, but as I darted through the dark trees I felt a kernel of excitement spark inside me. I had no idea what I was letting myself in for, and the scribbled note I’d left for Mum had made promises I wasn’t sure I could keep.

  I jumped for a familiar branch and heard it creak as I swung through, planting my feet on a fallen tree and running to its tip. I paused and listened to the forest’s murmur. The misty veil draped the forest in pallid light tonight, making it look fairytale.

  When Eli and I were small, Grandpa would tell us about the wood sprites that came out at night, when we were sleeping. His gruff voice would enrapture us with stories of how they sat on mushrooms and drank out of acorn cups, before bathing and dancing naked in the moonlight. Tonight, I wouldn’t have been surprised to see their tiny svelte shapes darting among the undergrowth.

  Grandpa’s stories accompanied me as I ran, and before too long, I was creeping up towards the clearing in front of the tunnel cave. Silently, I shinnied up a young hazel tree and surveyed the area. All seemed deathly quiet. Even the nocturnal animals seemed to be watching and waiting. I leapt down lightly and sprinted into the open cave.

  A lantern flickered against the rough inside walls, and the floor was littered with signs of the task force’s rushed departure, including discarded ration bags and, among them, Grandpa’s walking stick. I dragged my eyes from it, and prayed Eli would have the sense to find him another one on the other side. Cautiously I glanced out towards the forest, the tunnel-watch guard would be back soon.

  I turned to face the still water pooling at the back of the cave. It was silently chilling. But there was no other way. Casting one final look back at moonlit Arafel, I tightened the shoulder strap on my ration bag, and stepped into the freezing water. The cold reached through to my bones with its clawing fingers, and I fought to contain the panic welling up my throat.

  Then Grandpa’s voice was at the back of my head, calming my jagged breath and steeling my nerves.

  You know what to do, Talia.

  I set my jaw, and the last thing I heard as I dived was the faint, disapproving growl of a flecked cat, hidden in the trees across the clearing.

  ‘Take care of Mum, Jas,’ I prayed, as the icy black consumed me.

  Chapter Three

  If I disliked the tunnel when Eli was with me, I detested it on my own. Although the guide rope stayed in place, there was no encouraging tug, no ray of daylight to pierce the numbing gloom. Summoning all my resolve, I kicked down into the tight tunnel as fast as I could, the rough walls scraping my skin relentlessly until finally, the roof began to rise. Straightening my arms, I powered upwards until my head broke the surface of the outside water.

  For a moment, it was as much as I could do just to crawl out and lie on the stone floor, savouring the sweet night air. But as my strength returned, I pulled a dry blanket from the emergency rations box and patted the excess moisture from my tunic. The task force had left little behind save for a small cracked mirror, a handful of nuts, and a portion of dried fruit wrapped in large elephant-ear leaves, another newcomer to our warmer climate. I pocketed the mirror, and tossed a couple of the sweet hazelnuts into my mouth.

  With fresh life seeping through my veins, I forced my gaze out towards the rushing water separating our cave from the rest of the thick forest. The stepping stones were only visible twice a day, and by the look of the swirling rapids, I hadn’t got lucky.

  Carefully withdrawing the small mirror, I shone it in the direction of the submerged stones. I could just make out the slimy jade surface of the first flat surface beneath the white torrents. Every instinct told me it was madness, that the river was at its most dangerous, and yet I knew from experience there was no other passing place for several miles. The task force had to have passed this way.

  I pocketed the mirror again abruptly. I’d used these stones countless times, and I could jump them blindfolded so long as I got the rhythm right. Not allowing myself to dwell any longer, I leapt onto the first foothold. My feet were immediately submerged in about two feet of the surging water, and as I staggered under the sudden, violent pressure, instinct took over. Gripping my leather-clad toes into the rough rock, I pushed off and leapt. My feet barely had time to graze the top of each submerged stone before I was springing to the next, every jump knocking me further off-centre and towards the foaming black.

  Then finally, just as my legs threatened to buckle with the sheer velocity of water, I landed in the soft, quiet grass of the forest bank. I shuddered with relief, but there was no time to rest.

  Throwing a swift glance around, I set off at a quiet sprint towards the south perimeter of the forest, where the intrusion had been detec
ted. It wasn’t long before the trees beckoned above ground, and the forest was flying by. This was my natural place, running through the branches, knowing instinctively which branch to trust, where to swing and which to avoid.

  As the surrounding area became less familiar, I slowed my pace. The outside forest was different to home – not only was it much denser, there were yellow eyes everywhere, watching too. I ran to the end of a willow branch and tensed, sensing the forest’s sudden heaviness, its expectation. Just before a terrified scream split the night air. Fear spidered through my veins as I scanned the shadowy, still trees. It was human; I was sure of that.

  I took my route further up again, the only sound the scratching of my leather-clad feet against the rough bark of the branches. And then it came again.

  I pressed myself into the knotted trunk of an old banyan tree, my heart thumping like a young rabbit’s, and peered through its fortress of branches. While my eyes were well used to the night, this part of the forest was full of interwoven, aerial roots.

  That was when I saw them. Standing in a small clearing just off to my left. There was a figure sprawling face down on the forest floor, and a slighter figure standing in front of him holding his hands out, palms forward in submission. I inhaled sharply. I knew every contour of the face silhouetted in the pale moonlight as well as my own. Eli.

  I craned my neck to try to see what was holding his attention, and was amazed to spy a small monkey creature standing no more than two feet off the ground, its back arched aggressively. I frowned. I’d seen Eli calm many wild animals, even fighting boars, it was unusual for any animal to be resistant to his charms. The night air resonated with an unfamiliar sound.

  ‘Hhgggrrrrrr!’

  Its tone was low and aggressive, like a warning from a rattlesnake sizing up fresh prey. A shiver rushed down my spine, like the white water of the river. I knew most of the sounds of the forest, and this one was new to me.

  I watched as Eli shook his head, before pointing slowly around at the trees and bushes. He indicated he was going to crouch down, one of his cardinal rules when communicating with an animal: getting on its level. The creature only pushed itself up further on the balls of its tiny feet, and glowered with hostility. Fear flooded my body as I felt for my catapult. It was the first time I’d ever seen my brother in need of backup where an animal was concerned.

  Carefully, I selected a rounded stone from my leather pouch, and placed it in the worn leather strip of my small wooden catapult. Although I wasn’t much use with a knife or axe, I had a pretty decent aim with my slingshot. Eli’s signing grew more rapid and warier, as the creature maintained its offensive body language. It didn’t look good. I took careful aim at its chest, one step closer to Eli and I’d wind it long enough for my brother to run.

  Then there was a second anguished scream, and another figure collapsed onto the clearing floor next to the first. I recognized him instantly as Sean – one of the task force leaders – and my stomach fell through to my leather-clad feet. My hands grew clammy as I watched, and my breathing sounded hollow and jagged.

  Eli instinctively turned to help, and at that moment the monkey creature sank back on its haunches, preparing to attack. Without hesitation, I pulled my catapult back to full tension and let the small stone fly. My aim was true, hitting the small creature mid-leap and square on the chest. It was a blow that should have winded a much larger animal, but it only knocked the monkey off course. It landed on all fours, and spun to hiss malevolently in my direction as I took refuge behind the tree’s thick trunk.

  The forest fell eerily silent as I counted slowly to five. It was usually a fail-proof measure, but when I looked around, it was still staring in my direction, its sinister rattle slowly getting louder. I could see the creature more clearly now, and felt a chill creep down my spine. It had the basic features of a squirrel monkey with its thick black and white coat, an animal we’d caught and eaten many times.

  But it was its face that magnetized me. It was different, humanized somehow, and making a noise I’d never heard any mammal make, while its small head was completely hairless save for a thin black Mohican marked through with a white stripe.

  Without warning, the rattling intensified and the creature bared its teeth in my direction. And suddenly I knew it wasn’t alone. Although he couldn’t know it was his sister in the trees, Eli began gesticulating frantically in my direction. His signing was clear enough for anyone to understand.

  With adrenaline saturating my veins, I started jumping, instinct driving me back in the direction from which I’d come. I wasn’t sure I could outrun the creatures, but I could enlist some unsuspecting support. I sprang deftly from tree to tree, running along thick branches and using smaller ones to spring into the next. In my haste, I caught and tore my tunic sleeve. A small trickle of blood ran down my bare arm, but there was no time to stop and investigate. The rattling was gaining.

  I flew back towards the dense bushes that had shaken with throaty growling, and only paused over the top, to look down through a small break in the trees. I caught my breath when I finally saw them, at least fifteen of the rattling monkeys pursuing me on the ground. Their leader stopped, with perfect timing, to look up from the opposite side of the clearing. It drew its thin lips back in a sinister smile, exposing a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth, and I felt the warmth drain from my blood. This was no ordinary squirrel monkey.

  Without hesitating it dived forward again, encouraging the rest of the pack onwards and directly through the middle of the thick bushes below me. The bushes to which I’d led them. There was a moment’s silence while the forest waited, then a deafening roar split the air in two. The bushes parted with a violent rush, and a furious tigress leapt into the open, her stripes barely visible.

  I held my breath as she staggered under the ferocity of the monkeys’ attack, roaring with anguish as they sank their vicious teeth into her vibrant fur repeatedly. She retaliated using her powerful limbs to buck and roll, catching those close enough in her unforgiving jaws; but although the creatures seemed bloodied and dazed when thrown to the floor, few stayed down.

  I loaded up my catapult again and again, letting my stones fly repeatedly in an effort to help her, but it was as though the monkeys had sunk into a killing frenzy. As her muscular legs finally buckled, I turned away, flooded with guilt. If one of the forest’s most powerful animals was unable to stop the creatures, I had to warn the others while there was still time.

  I sprinted down the branch and leapt into a nearby tree, taking a circuitous route back to where I first saw Eli. The beast’s desecration hung on the air despite my speed, and the trees mourned with me; meekly rustling their eerie understanding. The outcome was a warning to us all.

  I jumped as quickly as I dared, and finally the original clearing came back into view, but this time it was completely empty. My ears started to pound, and I longed to call Eli’s name, but I knew that would be like lighting Arafel’s ceremonial fire beneath my feet. Instead, I tucked myself high up inside a tree fork, and scanned the forest. It was completely silent. Nothing moved. Nothing breathed. Then a hand closed around my mouth.

  Panic flooded my limbs, followed by swift relief as I reasoned only Max or Eli could climb this high. The hand felt large and strong. It had to be Max. I tried to turn my head, but it was locked forwards as the sound of trampled branches and twigs drew my gaze back to the ground. I gasped, unprepared for the sight of a tall, black figure emerging into the patchy moonlight. He was wearing what appeared to be a full bodysuit and helmet, and I knew instantly it had to be an Insider. What did Grandpa used to say? Spy an Insider, watch out for the Sweeper.

  I held my breath as the figure lifted his left arm, and considered a small bleeping device attached to the inside of his wrist. I guessed it to be one of the ‘Identifier’ devices the Council Elders had warned us about. The Insiders considered them essential, and the little boxes recorded everything from the wearer’s location to the position of the sun. Arafel
Elders were suspicious of any piece of technology, and called the Identifiers a threat to mankind’s intuition and instinct.

  The Insiders also kept old time, twenty-four hours in one day; although Arafel had long since dispensed with restrictive timekeeping, and coordinated days around light instead. It had been one of Thomas’s first suggestions for renouncing the old system, and forging a new path with the natural world.

  As the Insider continued to tap the device, there was a sudden rush among the bushes and three smaller figures leapt into the clearing, tackling him to the ground. I recognized Eli immediately and a small crow of victory rose in my throat. Max must have felt something because his hand clamped even harder. I pulled at his resisting grip indignantly, just as a sudden, ear-splitting whistle paralysed us both.

  The shrill sound made my ears ache, but it was the ominous response that sent rivulets of fear coursing through my veins. It was the same rattling as before, and it was getting louder. The Insider was somehow using the black box to call up his pack of vermin! Terrified, I pressed further into the tree and felt Max do the same behind me.

  Within seconds, the macabre creatures broke the perimeter of the clearing. Eli and the others pulled the Insider to his feet, and spun him around to face the incoming pack. I shuddered as I took in their sinister faces once again; there was something far too knowing about them.

  They halted immediately, and sat in formation with the leader clearly at the front, his mouth wet with blood. My heart ached with remorse for the tigress, but my priority was Eli and the rest of the task force now. I watched intently as Eli forced the Insider to tap his black box again. The alarm call disappeared, leaving only a heavy silence in its wake.

  ‘Stand them down!’

  It was Max’s authoritative tone, and a fresh wave of dread washed over me. It couldn’t be worse. All those I cared about most were below me, in violent danger. Then I froze, the weight of my realization making every fine hair on the back of my neck prickle with fear. If Max was in the clearing below, who in the name of Arafel was behind me now?