Before me was an abyss. It ran away from us into the distance like a river of seething sunlight. Covering my eyes, I peered down through my fingers as the lava sloshed in giant waves against the foot of the Light House. They crashed against the rocks, spraying up plumes of fiery surf.

I looked to my right at Luke and his face glowed red from the glare of the seething lake below and in that moment he looked like a god. His finely chiselled face, green eyes and that black hair that always fell across his brow reminded me of what had originally attracted me to him. As if sensing that I was looking at him, he turned to face me, and instead of glaring at me like I feared he would, he gave me the warmest of smiles and said, “It’s incredible isn’t it?”

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered back.

“But they’re not so beautiful,” someone said from behind me.

I looked back to find Coanda staring up at the jagged tip of the Light House. Peering through the light, I could see a swarm of Vampyrus circling. Their wings were spread and they looked as if they were protecting the Light House, defending it until they were summoned to send out the order to attack.

“The Light House will soon have turned our way and we will be seen,” Coanda said. “We find shelter from its heat today, and make our move tonight.” Then he was striding away towards a wide crack in the ground that zigzagged away from us like a giant wound.

I looked at Luke and Isidor who, without saying a word, followed Coanda as he climbed down into the fracture in the ground. Before following them, I looked back over my shoulder, scanning the horizon and hoping I would see Potter. But he was nowhere to be seen. So turning away, I climbed into the crack.

Chapter Twenty-Six

The fracture in the ground was deep, and by the time I had levered myself over the edge, the others were already at the bottom. The sides of the crack were made of hard, red rock and were warm to the touch. With care, I lowered myself to the bottom, finding myself in something not too dissimilar to a cave. It stretched away for as far as the eyes could see in both directions, becoming narrower and narrower.

The area we now stood in was open and vast. The rock above me formed a lip, which Coanda climbed beneath. We followed, only to find ourselves in a compact alcove. Coanda pulled a flashlight from one of the many pockets that adorned his overalls. He switched it on and cast a cone of bright white light across the walls. No sooner had the light splashed across them, then they began to glow a luminous green. I could see the walls were covered with that seaweed-type plant I had seen in the tunnel when first crawling into The Hollows.

The seaweed, if that’s what it was, sent a sickly glow across the alcove, painting our faces the colour of Halloween masks. I glanced at Luke and he no longer looked like a god, but sallow and sick, as if just getting over some prolonged illness. I looked at Isidor and Coanda, and they too looked ill. Isidor removed his rucksack and crossbow, placing them on the ground and sighing as he arched his back. In the distance I could hear the sound of water dripping, and to think that there might be water in such an arid place seemed strange to me. The sound of it made me realise how thirsty I was, and my throat felt as if it had been coated in a layer of dust.

“How come I hear water?” I asked Coanda.

“Why is that so strange?” he shot back.

“It’s just that this place, up above, seems so dry,” I said.

“Come with me and I’ll show you something,” he said turning away and walking to the furthest reaches of the alcove. I followed him, Isidor and Luke trailing at my heels. When I thought Coanda was going to walk straight into the wall, he turned sharply to his left and squeezed himself through a narrow gap. Drawing breath, I snuck through the gap and stepped out onto a ledge. Luke and Isidor joined me, but neither of them looked upon the sight with the same amount of awe I did. Perhaps they had seen it all before, but the vines that hung from the ceiling were beautiful in this cave I now found myself in. The ledge ran along the side of what looked like a giant bowl, and from above hung an intricate weave of vines and roots, like those of a giant tree. They curled and wrapped themselves about one another like the most carefully platted length of hair. The roots and vines glowed green just like the seaweed-type plant that covered the walls in the alcove. They glistened wetly with a yellow liquid which dripped from them like some kind of honey.

Coanda knelt on the ledge. Steadying himself with one hand, he reached into the vast bowl with his other hand and dipped his fingers into the gloopy liquid which had collected there. He pulled his hand free and held it up before me, his eyes gleaming in the yellow light that the substance was omitting. Then, without taking his eyes off mine, he ran his tongue up the length of his fingers as if savouring a lollipop. The goo ran from his lips and it looked sticky and wet as if he had just gone berserk with a bottle of lip gloss.

Once he had licked his fingers clean, and with a look of sheer delight on his face, he smacked his lips together and said, “Root Juice - there’s nothing like it.”

Without hesitating further, both Luke and Isidor were on their hands and knees, reaching down and taking a fist full of the yellow goo. Holding their hands to their mouths, they slurped and sucked the liquid from between their fingers.

“Go on, Kiera,” Coanda said, and it was the first time on our journey I had seen him smile – well, half-smile if I am to be honest.

“It doesn’t look as if it will quench my thirst,” I said, watching it drip in thick steams from Luke’s fingers. “It looks kinda sticky.”

“Just try it,” Coanda urged.

With my throat in need of any kind of moisture, I knelt down and tenderly dipped my fingers into the liquid that dripped from the roots sprouting from the rocky ceiling. It felt warm, and just as I had suspected, very sticky. Gingerly, I raised my fingers to my mouth and closing my eyes, I prodded the liquid with my tongue. At once my whole body tingled, as if it had just drank from a mountain spring. Although it had felt warm to the touch, it felt ice cold against my tongue. Sticking my fingers into my mouth I sucked the Root Juice from them. The inside of my mouth seemed to explode to life as the sticky substance ran down my throat. At once, my thirst was quenched and I could never imagine myself feeling thirsty ever again. But it wasn’t just the icy cold, mouth-watering sensation, it was the taste. It was as sweet as honey but sharp as a lemon, and I wanted more.

I licked my fingers clean and reached into the giant bowl again. Before my fingers even touched the goo, Coanda gripped me by the shoulder and pulled me back from the edge.

“No more, Kiera,” he said, as if in warning.

“Why not?” I asked him, trying to hide my disappointment. “It’s wonderful.”

“In small amounts,” Luke cut in. “Too much of the stuff can make you go crazy and you’ll just want more and more.”

“What’s wrong with that?” I asked. “It tastes amazing.”

“Just enough will kill your thirst,” Coanda said. “But any more and it will kill you.”

“What, like poison?” I gasped, wishing now I hadn’t tried it, however nice it had been.

“It will drown you,” Luke told me.

“Drown me?”

“How quickly did it cure your thirst?” he asked, staring at me.

”With just one drop.”

“Just imagine, then, what a handful, or a bottleful of the stuff would do,” Luke continued. “No one knows why, but the Root Juice retains water, that’s how plants and trees survive in The Hollows. A cup full of the stuff will keep a tree watered for months. So when it reaches your stomach it turns to a water-like substance. And you’ll just want more and more, and even when your stomach is bloated full and your bladder is screaming to be emptied, you’ll want to carry on drinking and drinking until there isn’t any more room in your stomach. Your lungs will start to fill and even when you are gasping for air, you’ll be slurping up that wonderful-tasting Root Juice until you suffocate - until it smothers you.”

“You won’t need water for hours now, maybe even a day or two,” Coanda said, and patted his flat stomach as if he himself were content. “The small amount you had will be enough to keep you hydrated just like it does the trees and the plants in The Hollows.” Then, without saying another word on the matter, Coanda slipped back into the narrow gap and was gone.

I looked over at the roots that hung from the roof of the cave, watching the gloopy Root Juice dripping from them.

“Don’t be tempted, Kiera,” Luke said, then he too disappeared, leaving Isidor and me alone.

Isidor stood on the ledge and looked down into the hollow of the cave and at the goo laying there. He had that haunted look in his eyes and I took the opportunity of being alone to speak with him.

“Neat stuff, huh?” I started.

“I guess,” he said back, but his voice sounded dreamy as if coming from a long way off.

Standing next to him, so close that my arm brushed against his, I said, “You never told me that you came from such an amazing world.”

“You never asked,” he replied thoughtfully.

Then, resting my hand on his arm, I said, “Please talk to me, Isidor. I know you are hurting about Kayla. I am too. We could help each other.”

“I don’t need any help,” he said, but not in anger or in resentment, but with a tinge of sorrow.

“I’ll find out who murdered Kayla,” I promised him. “I know how much you had grown to love her, Isidor, and I loved her too. You were her brother but she was like a sister -”

“Somebody else loved her,” Isidor suddenly said.

“Sorry? What did you say?”

“Someone else loved her,” he said again. “Or they told her they did.”

“Who are you talking about?” I quizzed, now feeling totally confused.

“She believed him,” Isidor said, “In her own way, she looked up to him, admired him, wanted to be like him. So when he told her she was special, that she was beautiful, she was so willing to believe him.”