Archibald Lox and the Vote of Alignment by Darren Shan

Author:Darren Shan [Shan, Darren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

23

GUIDO AND LENA LEAD us through a series of vines. The walls of most have been smeared at regular intervals with what must be long-lasting gleam, so they’re fairly well lit.

In certain places the vines join and we slip from one to another, but in other spots we have to exit a vine and leap across. My stomach lurches when we do that, as sometimes we’re high above the ground, with death the certain outcome if we fall. But as fearful as I am, I keep up until the rats pop out of a vine and set off across an open stretch, which is when I draw to a defeated halt.

Guido and Lena have slipped to the side of the vine and shot ahead, using the hooks attached to their hands and feet.

“Here,” Inez says, tossing four sets of hooks my way. “They left them for us. Rats always carry spares. They’re on the small size, but –” She stops when I don’t pick up the hooks. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t use those,” I tell her.

“Why not?”

“I’ve never used anything like them before.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

I look down — we’re higher than a few nearby trees. “What if I slip?”

“Don’t,” she says, then wriggles onto the body of the vine and sets off after the rats. She’s not as sure-footed as them, but makes good progress.

I pick up a set of hooks. There are four sharp barbs set in a band of copper, which is meant to fit over the hand or foot. I slide it onto my left hand. It’s tight, but that’s not a bad thing, as it means the hooks don’t slip from side to side.

When my fingers are extended, the barbs rest on the back of my hand – if I made a sudden movement, I could rip the flesh open – but if I close the fingers into a fist, the hooks stick out over the end. I jab them into the vine. They sink in cleanly, then slide out when I withdraw my hand. Frowning, I try again, and rotate my fist forward, so that the barbs curve into the pulp of the vine. This time, when I try to pull my hand back, the hooks don’t budge.

I slip a set onto my right foot. The band stops short of my shin and the barbs stick out all the time. To use them, I angle my foot back to drive the barbs into the vine, then scrunch my toes inwards to twist the hooks into a holding position.

“What are you waiting for?” Lena asks, popping up beside me.

“I’ve never used hooks like these,” I grumble.

“They’re easy,” she says. “Put on the others and I’ll help you, even though Guido said I shouldn’t. He said it would be your own useless fault if you fell.”

I scowl and wish Guido was here, so that I could dare him to say that to my face. But since Lena is staring at me impatiently, I slip on the other hooks and crawl onto the roof of the vine.

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