in one of the side shafts,” Jaco exclaims.
“They’re going to open the end and shove us out,” Shameema says. Her voice cracks.
“But we’re not at the top yet,” one of the Year Fives says. “Maybe we won’t fall far.”
I can hear the hope in her voice, but she’s forgotten how high they say Table Mountain is. I try to imagine what it will be like if by some chance I do survive the fall. Everything is dead out there. No plants, no people, just ash and burnt rock. I’ll die of thirst, or starve.
We reach the end, and two soldiers are struggling with the bolts that hold the thick metal grille over the end of the shaft. Shameema is sobbing, and I put my arm around her. Jaco hugs us both. The three Year Fives huddle together, sniffing.
“This damned bolt is jammed,” one of the soldiers grumbles, hitting it with the butt of his rifle.
But it comes undone suddenly, and the grille clangs to the floor. A blast of dust and dried leaves swirls inside. Major Zungu grabs one of the Year Fives and shoves her towards the opening. She gives a sharp scream that ends abruptly as she drops out of sight.
I clutch Shameema and Jaco. My mouth is filling with saliva. I’m going to vomit.
Now Major Zungu has the second Year Five girl. Tears are streaming down her face and she wrestles with him. It’s futile. I look away as he bashes her head against the wall, and tosses her out before she can crumple at his feet.
“Please, Prospiroh,” Shameema prays, clutching my shoulder with her good arm. “Lord Prospiroh, I have been faithful to you. I’ve worked hard for you. Save me. Please save me.”
“The witch next,” Major Zungu snaps. “Red-haired bitch.” He pulls me away from Jaco and Shameema.
“No!” I screech, digging my heels into the floor.
Major Zungu takes me by the shoulders and shoves me to the edge of the tunnel. I cling to the metal rim. I’m teetering on the edge. Below are rocks. Bare rocks and two blood-splattered, white-robed bodies. I clutch the rim, resisting him with everything I have.
Suddenly there are footsteps running up the passage behind us. “Change of orders!” a soldier bellows, and Major Zungu lets go of me. With a gasp I fall backwards into the passage.
“High Priest wants to see the witch,” the soldier says.
Major Zungu pulls me to my feet. “Get up,” he snarls. “She’s all yours, Captain Atherton. Enjoy.” He leers as he shoves me towards the strange soldier who is out of breath from running so fast.
Jaco and Shameema look terrified as Captain Atherton marches me past them. They’re thinking the same as I am – the High Priest has chosen a special kind of death for me. Probably something more agonising. Something more suitable to a female born with the curse of the red hair.
CAPTAIN ATHERTON TAKES me back to the stairwell. We keep climbing upwards and I become exhausted. If they’re going to kill me, I wish they’d just do it, instead of wearing me out bit by bit. But the circle of sky is getting bigger, the natural light is creeping into the stairwell and I focus on the beautiful clear blue, the single puffy cloud. At least I got to see the sky, I think wryly.
There’s a black speck in the sky. It’s a bird like we’ve seen a hundred times in the old kinetika movies they show us on Friday nights. I blink. Did I really see that? I can’t have. Nothing can live on the surface of the earth. The only living animals are the goats, pigs, hens and rabbits that give us food and clothing in the colony. And even they are getting weaker each year.
At last we reach the top. Above me is a huge, transparent roof. And above that is the sky. I’ve never seen a colour so intense, and I stare at it. Captain Atherton bashes on a door, and it’s opened from outside.
It takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the flood of light that blinds me. When I open them at last I see a huge window that fills one wall of the room. I rush over and peer out. Is it true … is everything destroyed?
Table Island lies below me. The sky sweeps down and meets the brilliant blue-green ocean. The slopes of the mountain aren’t blackened and burnt. Instead there are bushes, scrubby plants scattered between the rocks. I can even see a few dashes of yellow and pink. Flowers. I’ve seen flowers at last.
The world is bigger, more wonderful, more overwhelming than I ever imagined. My eyes fill with tears. I’m so busy gathering every detail that I don’t notice a second door opening.
“You’re a lucky girl,” a voice says behind me. A strange man stands there, wearing a bright-blue robe. He’s middle aged, well fed, and smiling broadly.
Who is he? Is he the executioner?
“Please,” I beg. “Before you kill me, just give me a few more minutes to see the world above.”
He takes both my hands in his.
“My dear Ebba,” he says. “We found you in the nick of time. You’re not being sacrificed, you’re being elevated. You’re the missing Den Eeden heiress. I’m here to take you home.”
CHAPTER 3
Home?” My jaw drops. “I’m not going to die?”
The man chuckles. “Of course not. I’m Fergis Frye, the Den Eeden family lawyer. You’re the heiress who disappeared as a baby, and I’m so delighted to find you. We looked for you high and low, and here you were all along, under our noses.”
I stare at him, uncomprehending. I’m an heiress? I’m part of a family? I’ve got a family.
“This way,” he says, opening the door. “I’m taking you home to Greenhaven.”
We step out into the fresh air and I gasp. Everything is so intense – the noise, the wind and sun, the smell of clean air after sixteen years of being below. I stand on the doorstep looking down at the mountainside that falls away beneath my feet, and I’m terrified. It’s so open. So big.
“Come on, dear, don’t be afraid,” he says. “Just follow me.”
I take a deep breath and follow him down the long concrete staircase that cuts into the side of the mountain. I don’t want to look at the drop to the bottom. I’m in a cold sweat of fear. The wind pummels me so hard I’m afraid I might be blown off. I grip the handrail and concentrate on putting down one foot after the other for flight after flight of stairs. I’m reeling from the morning’s events. It can’t be true. This must be one of the High Priest’s jokes.
Finally we reach the bottom. I take a deep breath and dare to look around. We’re on a road, and a shiny red buggy drawn by two horses waits. I know what they are because Ma Goodson used to show us kinetika movies before the equipment wore out. She wanted us to hear and see and smell the old world. She told us that horses were all dead. Everyone – all the mentors, the guards, the worship team – they all told us that everything had been destroyed. Why did they lie?
The coachman jumps down and bows to
