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‘Before who finds me?’ I ask, taking a forward step. I’m still in the safe zone. If she rushes towards the light, the chain will pull her up short. I hope she doesn’t try it. The damage to her wrist would be terrible. More importantly, I want this – us – towork.
Her throat bobs. ‘I don’t know. I was in Bournemouth. A chess tournament. He pulled me into a van. Drugged me, brought me here, put this thing on my wrist. Please – it’s not safe. You’ve got to go before he gets back, call the police and tell them I’m here. That you found me, Elissa Mirzoyan, that I’m alive, that I was taken by a man driving a white van with a skull sticker on the bumper, a skull with a hat and a cigarette.’
Her shoulders sag. She sucks in a shuddering breath.
CHILLAX, I think, and wince.
‘Are you hurt?’
She shakes her head. ‘Not yet. But something bad’s going to happen. Unless you get me out.’
I adjust the angle of my torch. ‘Your wrist—’
‘It’s nothing. Just a gash.’
‘It’s more than a gash. All that blood—’
‘Seriously, there are worse things. Can you—’
‘My name’s Elijah,’ I say, and flinch. I hadn’t meant to tell her so soon. ‘How old are you?’
She blinks, those green fires extinguished then relit. Iknow she wants me gone, running through the Memory Wood with her message, but she isn’t panicking. Not yet.
‘Thirteen,’ she replies. ‘I’m thirteen years old, and my name’s Elissa Mirzoyan.M-I-R-Z-O-Y-A-N. I live at six, Cloisters Way, in Salisbury. My mum’s name is Lena. It doesn’t matter if you can’t remember all that. Please, just go. Call the police and bring them down here. Tell themElissa Mirzoyan– that you found Elissa Mirzoyan and she’s alive.’
I nod, even though she can’t see past the beam of my torch. ‘You might be a year older than me,’ I tell her. ‘But Magic Annie says I have a pretty high IQ. I promise I won’t forget you. Not ever.’
I see from her reaction that it’s a misstep. Something in her expression changes. She draws her injured wrist to her chest.
‘Where am I?’ she asks.
‘Underground.’
‘I know that. Where?’
‘A cellar. In the Memory Wood.’
‘The Memory Wood?’
‘That’s what I call it. I don’t think it has a real name. Least not one anybody remembers.’
She frowns at that. Tries to process it. ‘How’d you find me?’
‘I was playing. Outside. Thought I’d come down here and explore.’
‘You live close?’
‘Quite close.’
Elissa screws up her face. ‘Could you turn off the torch?’
Her question, like so much of this meeting, catches me off guard. If I do as she asks, the candlelight will reveal me, and that’s not something I can allow. I want to save her, but I have to protect myself.
‘I … don’t like the dark,’ I tell her, my cheeks growinghot. It’s true enough, but it isn’t the main reason for my reluctance and so is still a fib of sorts. I hate dishonesty, especially down here. And yet sometimes the truth of a thing is best avoided. At least for a little while.
I watch the rise and fall of her chest. Everything about this feels so finely balanced.
‘Will you help me, Elijah?’ she asks.