Page 38

When I step forward, Kyle steps back. If he retreats any further, he’ll leave the cottage entrance uncontested.
My brother waits another beat. Then, wordless, he shoulders his rifle and marches away. Seconds later, he’s lost among the trees. Soon, all I hear is the cracking of twigs and branches.
I wait until the gentler sounds of the Memory Wood swallow him up. Then I step inside the cottage, walk along the hall to the kitchen, open the pantry door and disappear down the stairs.
III
She’s sleeping when I enter.
Sometimes they pretend to do that, especially at the start. Still, I’ve become pretty good at working out when someone’s trying to fool me, and Elissa definitely isn’t.
Her brow furrows a little when my torch beam touches her face. Her eyes rove behind their lids. I can’t help wondering about her dream.
For a while, I consider peeling back one of her eyelids, just to get another glimpse of the emerald fire I saw when we first met, but that would be aviolation, which is the word for when you do something to someone without their permission.
Shading the torch with my fingers, I creep closer. Elissa’s lying on her side, curled around her injured wrist. A bruise on her left cheek is brand new. Blood is crusted in the corner of her mouth. It looks like she’s taken a couple of hard punches, or perhaps just one that knocked her head against the floor.
Itoldher to follow the rules. Why didn’t she listen?
Squatting down, I place the back of my hand near her mouth. Her breath tickles my skin as she exhales.
She’s like an angel, or a fairy robbed of its wings. Injuries and filthy clothes can’t hide her beauty. Beneath the grime, her skin is as flawless as Mama’s. Unable to stop myself, I lift my fingers to her hair, feeling its softness. I touched it before when I helped her to drink, so it isn’t strictly a violation. Beneath my hand, I sense the warm skin of her scalp, the smooth curve of her skull and, beneath that, the complex miracle of her brain. I imagine the thoughts zipping around those grey folds, her hopes and fears and memories all carried by tiny sparks of electricity.
Asleep like this, she’s horribly vulnerable. How easy it would be for someone to hurt her; offhand, I can think of a dozen different ways. The ticking pulse in her neck is so fragile that a lump grows in my throat. Gently, I slide my fingers on to her cheek. There, the skin is hot and damp. I bet if I licked it I’d taste salt.
Elissa’s mouth falls open. She moans, fighting whatever monsters stalk her sleep. I see her bottom row of teeth, glimmering with saliva. I want to slide my finger along the ridges and feel their sharpness – but that reallywouldbe a violation.
Instead, I place my hand directly over Elissa’s heart. Even through her dress, I feel its reassuring rhythm and imagine how it must sound, a steadybm-thm,bm-thm,bm-thm. As it jumps against my palm, it’s hard to accept it’ll ever fall silent. But that’s what happens to all our hearts. Especially down here, in this cellar beneath the Memory Wood.
‘I’m sorry this happened,’ I mutter.
Elissa stirs in sleep, shifting position on the floor.
I turn off my torch and sit in darkness.
Bm-thm,bm-thm,bm-thm.
For a while, I feel so at peace I don’t even realize I’m crying.
Elissa
Day 4
I
Cold fingers against her neck. Her pulse jumps against them.
The rhythm of her heart is all wrong. Earlier, it was racing. Now, it feels far too slow, like a shire horse plodding uphill. The bright colours in her cell have turned white. The voice of her jailer – the one she calls the ghoul – smears and elongates.
‘You look into the camera,’ he whispers. ‘You read the words. Say you understand.’
Elissa rolls her head, screws up her eyes.
‘You look into the camera,’ he insists. ‘You read the words. You send a message to the world and your mother learns you’re not dead. Say you understand.’
It takes a while to process his instructions. She can’t trust him – that’s obvious – but if there’s one thing likely to sway her, it’s the chance to relieve her mum’s anguish.
Which words, though? What does he mean? She opens one eye, groaning as the room rotates. Steadily, it settles. He’s placed a whiteboard near the camera. Words are printed upon it. They swim in and out of focus.