“The creek.” I shrugged.
The path wound up a gradual hill, gravelly underfoot and edged by patches of dead grass. It wasn’t difficult to imagine how beautiful a place it would be in the summer, when the grass was bright green again and tipped with flowers instead of frost. A harsh wind blew overhead, tousling my hair into wilder curls and truly making me applaud my decision to bring a scarf.
“How much farther?” I asked through chattering teeth, panning the hill for trees that might provide a windbreak, but finding none.
“Only a few minutes more,” he assured me.
I buried my face further into the scarf, skirt flapping around my knees so that it was difficult not to stumble.
“Hey.” He stopped so that I bumped into him. “Have a look.”
Cautiously, tired eyes braced for the cold wind, I popped my head up.
“Oh…” I gasped, my hand over my mouth.
In all my years, I had never seen anything so beautiful or ethereal. Ahead of us the land ended. Instead, pale, bare, rocky cliffs, many draped with rolling cloud, loomed nearly a hundred feet over the expanse of beach below. The sky was stormy grey overhead, but did not have the heaviness that often spoke of rain, and rather complemented the moody setting quite perfectly. Below us lay a bay, a half-moon mixture of pebbles and sand, untouched by people in the protective cradle of cliff and cloud. Then there was the sea, another beast entirely. The broken surface was the colour of steel, lapping the shoreline hungrily and writhing under a breeze that whipped wildly over its flat back. This couldn’t all be water, not all of it! In every direction, all the way to the misty horizon, the sea marked its domain.
A steep path snaked downwards just in front of us, zigzagging quite precariously.
“Need a hand?” Andrew offered, edging down a few feet in front of me.
“No, I can do it, thanks.” I took a brave step by myself, still transfixed by the hypnotic crashing of waves on the shore.
A second later, I was on my rear, having missed my footing entirely and skidded right down a substantial portion of the path. Embarrassed and blushing a furious red, I shook the gravel from my clothes and took Andrew’s extended hand.
“No shame in accepting a gentleman’s gallantry,” he chuckled, winking. “Actually, you have no idea how many times I’ve ended up on my backside trying to scale these cliffs.”
“You come here often?” I inquired, tongue peeking out in concentration.
“Well, we used to.” His face fell. It was then I realized how difficult it must be for Andrew to be walking down this steep path. I had grown so accustomed to his limp now that it was easy to forget the mobility issues he was struggling with every breathing moment. Even now, supporting me in the crook of his arm, pain bubbled just below the surface contorting his face.
I unhooked my arm, using the rocks instead to steady myself.
“I was fine!”
“No shame,” I repeated gently.
It was a relief to be finally on flat ground. I leaned against the cliff-face to catch my breath, observing the scene in enamoured wonder. Now, only a few leaps away, the true power of the sea was evident. Waves slapped the sand before grudgingly withdrawing back into the body, pounding the ancient rock formations without mercy.
Andrew kicked off his shoes, nodding for me to follow suit. I wrinkled my nose, but curiosity overpowered propriety as I wondered what sand might feel like underfoot. The answer turned out to be delightfully soft and only a little damp, oozing between my toes as I ran after him.
“What are you doing?” I called, grumbling as the wind whipped my hair in front of my eyes. “Andrew!”
He grabbed my hand, tugging me towards the crashing waves. I protested half-heartedly, body tensed against an unknown element.
Then water was spraying all over me, cold and salty. I shrieked in surprise, eyes flying open, wrenching away back towards solid land.
“It’s not going to hurt you,” Andrew promised, eyes laughing. “Trust me.”
I bit my lip, staring out towards the endless sea and imagining what it would be like to submerge myself completely in the water. Not like a bath, of course and I was wary that there was much more chance of drowning. “I do trust you.”
I took a determined step forwards, shuddering as my feet disappeared underneath the foamy water. It was cold, much too cold, but fantastic.
“It’s like something from a fairy tale,” I exclaimed, turning towards Andrew with bright eyes. “I can’t believe it’s real!”
“Compared to Boundary, this is hardly a fantasy.”
“Perhaps not to you. But it is to me.”
I inhaled deeply, suddenly not noticing the bracing wind yanking at my hair, or the sea spray soaking my clothes, or the darkening clouds overhead. It was a world of its own down here, a place where nothing could touch me.
Andrew was in knee-deep, trousers rolled up. I wasn’t planning to go in that that far, but I did shuffle a little bit farther so that my ankles went under. It was more pebbly and less sandy here, but the numbing cold masked any discomfort this may have caused.
Then I slipped. With a gasp, my feet skidded on the pebbles and launched me into the water.
“Evelyn!” Andrew gasped, splashing over as fast as he could.
“I-I’m f-f-f-fine,” I chattered. Everything was soaked, including my hair! “J-just s-s-seem to b-be f-f-falling over a lot t-t-today.”
“I’ve a blanket in my haversack,” he remembered, limping as fast as he could towards the path, where he’d left the bag.
My only outfit was ruined, hanging off my frame in a sorry sail of heavy fabric. I was shivering uncontrollably and I’d twisted my ankle and it was throbbing. Slowly, I lowered myself down sighing with tight release as the icy water washed over me, numbing everything.
That was when I abandoned myself, and let my head fall back into the water so that my raven hair floated around my face. Reality was plunged into a frigid blur as I lay back, the rolling picture of clouds above now directly in my vision.
“Evelyn?” Andrew shouted from farther up the beach. “What are you doing? You’re going to freeze to death!”
His concerned but angry voice jerked me to my senses. I dragged myself to my feet and padded over to the shore. He shook his head in disbelief, handing me the blanket and muttering about how idiotic I could be. I must’ve looked a fright with my makeup washed off, and my curls dragged down with water into messy rattails.
“I was saving this to sit on.” He gestured to the blanket. “But I suppose we’ll have to make do with the sand.”
I nodded, peeling off my soaked coat and sitting down. Andrew wrapped the blanket around me. He rubbed me with it bringing some feeling back into my numbed limbs. My nerves were buzzing, and despite the fact I was practically an icicle, I felt alive.
“So, now you’ve fully experienced the glory of the sea, want to exchange information?” He sat down beside me. “I’m actually quite chuffed about how much I’ve found.”
“Definitely.”
“You first.”
“Well…I think I might be able to influence the Others,” I said. “Those things Harriet can see.”
Andrew blinked. “Right. What?”
So I recounted a rather summarized version of what Demitra had told me about the layers. I could tell before I was finished he didn’t quite believe it, but I knew just as certainly he wouldn’t challenge it.
“That’s good,” he said eventually, perhaps not trusting himself to think further into it. “Well, I…I think I found your parents.”
“You what?” I gasped, shocked, wrenching free of the blanket to face him. “How? We had nothing to go on.”
“The librarian I spoke to remembered something she had recorded in the newspaper archives,” Andrew explained, buoyed by my enthusiasm. “It might just be coincidence, but then again, it might not.”
I glanced at the sea in wonder. Was it foolish to hope? That after all this time, I might still
have a proper family waiting for me, one like the Pearson’s? Would they remember me? Why had I been taken from them in the first place? Had they given up trying to find me?
Andrew produced a crumpled stack of notes from his haversack, but thanks to the vigorous wind, it was nearly impossible to hold on to them.
“Just tell me what it says,” I suggested, bundling back down inside my blanket. “I could never steady my hands enough anyway.”
“All right,” he agreed. “But, Evelyn, it isn’t good news.”
“Tell me,” I instructed, throat tightening.
“Lucas Redding, Fred Ashton, Avery Sadler, Tressa McGinley, and Evelyn Stuart. Five children between the ages of two weeks to eighteen months old, all reported missing within the same space of about a month. None of them were ever found, so the incident was covered up by the police. But what linked them together were the families: all found dead. Every member of the family would be found as if they had just had an accident: tripping down the stairs with a knife in hand, banging their head on a kitchen sink, unintentional overdose on prescription drugs. In fact, each death would have seemed like an accident, were it not for the fact the entire family was dead, and the infants were missing.”
The knot, which had been growing steadily in my stomach, moved to my throat, and I uttered a small cry. I was Evelyn Stuart, and my family was dead. Murdered.
“I’m sorry.” Andrew awkwardly put his arm around me. “But, if it’s not insensitive, at least you know who you are now.”
“Why? Who would…who would do such a thing? How did we end up in Boundary? It just creates more questions.”
The sea spray mixed with my silent tears; grief for a life I would now never know. The euphoria had worn off, and it was as if a little shimmer of hope inside me had died.
“Was there no mention of Penny?” I mumbled into the blanket.
“No. Only you five.”
Odd. It was a shame, now the five of us would have last names; she’d be jealous when we were together again.
Then I saw a glimmer of coins from Andrew’s bag. Nothing much, of course, only a handful of pennies and… “Oh my gosh,” I gasped suddenly, realization hitting me like a sharp slap in the face. “How could I not have noticed it before?”
Before Andrew could ask what the issue was, I had jumped straight up so that the blanket heaped onto the sand.
“Penny Farthing!” I exclaimed, laughing and crying at the same time. “I bet they thought it was hilarious, didn’t they?”
“Isn’t that a type of old bicycle?” Andrew hadn’t quite caught on.
“Demitra and Deio Farthing.” I tossed two coins at him, a penny, and a farthing. “If they…if they named her… Penny was always more powerful than us, wasn’t she? D always favoured her, even though technically any of us could have caused damage. Even in appearance—how could it have taken me this long? Penny Farthing.”
Andrew’s mouth was open, his face paled.
“Are you sure?” he asked, voice wavering.
“Of course not,” I said, excitedly. “But wouldn’t it make sense?”
“Still, if that were the case, why would Penny be inside Boundary while the other two ran around outside?” Andrew argued hotly.
I shrugged. “I’ll have to ask Demitra. I might be wrong, but if the twins are using aliases, they probably just assumed nobody would make the connection… It was a joke…”
I realized I was babbling, and abruptly shut my mouth.
Evelyn Stuart. It sounded strange—much too long. Miss Stuart, they would call me now. Very proper.
“We should go,” Andrew suggested, beginning to pack away the notes. “Before you catch a cold. I’ll try to look into it a bit more, now we have names to go by.”
“Yes.”
I helped to pack the blanket away, and wiped the sand off my soggy skirt. Then, after a final goodbye to the sea, we started the precarious trek up the path again.
Chapter Fifteen
Three days, that was how long it took me to pluck up enough courage to confront Demitra. Three days of awkward silence, with me left alone to stew over the results of Andrew’s discovery.
I cracked during lunchtime. We were sitting at the dining table. Demitra had come back late over the past few nights, and without a touch of makeup, hair waving slightly owing to the absence of brushing, she seemed to be as unintimidating as were possible—for her, at least.
“Demitra?” I cleared my throat. Why was I so nervous? I was totally within my rights to ask questions, wasn’t I?
“Mm?” She didn’t look up from her novel.
“Would it be possible to ask you about a few things?”
“Depends.” Still scanning the book page, she didn’t look up.
“You see…Andrew has being doing some research about our past, and he found some very interesting—odd really—information.”
Finally, she took the bait. Her head jerked upright so fast, it was a miracle her neck didn’t snap. I kept my face a demure, innocently curious mask, hoping she couldn’t see the anxiety hidden there.
“What did the paper say?” Demitra inquired tightly, pushing the book away with the tips of her fingers and picking up a glass of water. Odd as it was, she seemed more anxious than I was.
I paused, trying to summarize it all in my head before speaking. Eventually, I decided to cut to the chase and get the most nagging part over with first. “Is Penny your sister?”
The reaction was immediate and not at all what I had expected. Demitra’s expression was neutral for a moment, but when the emotion returned it wasn’t rage or even shock, but relief.
“It took you a while, didn’t it?” She smirked, leaning back in her chair. “I thought the naming part was funny.”
“Funny?” I uttered incredulously. “Did you ever tell Penny?”
“Of course not. Heck, she still thinks D is some monster, not her two older siblings.”
Demitra took a sip of water, smiling secretly to herself. I took a steadying breath and pushed on.
“Then how come you’re out here, and she’s stuck in there?”
Slowly, the smile slipped away. “Elements beyond my control. Let’s leave it at that.”
“The newspaper Andrew found spoke of five families murdered. The children stolen from those families were the rest of us, weren’t they?” I fired relentlessly, goose bumps appearing across my arms as I recalled the discovery.
Demitra pushed back from the table, and got up collecting some cutlery and glasses and turning away from me to put them in the sink. Though I couldn’t see her face, I could tell she was shaking—with anger or fear, I didn’t know.
“I think you need to back off, Evelyn,” she said. “Focus on getting your friends safe before you go rooting around.”
“Why?” I pushed, braver with every word. “You expect me to go along with everything you say without questioning it, but so far, you haven’t told me what Boundary even is. Why is everyone so bent on hiding the truth?”
“Because,” Demitra said, still not facing me, “if you knew the truth, you might stop working with us.”
“That’s supposed to reassure me?”
Demitra picked something up out of the sink, and there was an odd crunching sound. “It’s supposed to get you to evaluate your priorities. You need us just as much as we need you, if not more.” She turned around, and I saw with some horror she’d crushed one of the drinking glasses in her hand. Blood trickled down her wrist from a nasty gash in her palm, glittering shards still embedded in her skin. “Don’t go searching for a reality you can’t handle yet.”
I stared at her hand, trying to free my words from a tangled web of frustration. “I can handle it. I’m not weak, you know.”
“But you have a conscience.” Demitra’s eyes fell to her palm with a dull realization. She threw the remnants of the glass into the sink with a crash. “Anyway, enough of that. You should get on and practise—”
All of a sudden she stopped, as
if I’d interrupted her. Her eyes glazed over, body growing rigid, and for a moment I panicked that something terrifying had risen behind me. After a few seconds, the moment passed, and she relaxed.
“Deio needs me to come and get him,” she said without further explanation. “We’ll be back in ten minutes. Don’t go anywhere.”
Demitra wiped her hand, threw her shawl over her shoulders, and slipped out of the flat, leaving the door gaping open behind her. As I moved to shut it, I considered leaving to find Andrew. I could tell him I was right about Penny, and perhaps we could go to the library and do more research together.
Don’t go searching for a reality you can’t handle yet… If you knew the truth, you might stop working with us.
My hand hovered over the handle, deliberating. It wasn’t like I was doing anything useful waiting in the flat. Unless, of course…
I shut the door, and tiptoed over to another one: the door to Deio and Demitra’s bedroom. Tentatively, I rattled the knob, and wasn’t particularly surprised to find it locked. My face flushed with guilt, I did a quick round of the flat searching for a key under the settee, and behind cushions and books, all in vain.
“Okay, Evelyn, think,” I murmured to myself. “It’s locked for a reason. You have ten minutes at best to get in.”
Learning about my family had awoken a new hunger within me for the truth, one I had possessed but kept subdued for too long. If I was playing with my friends’ lives, I wanted to make absolute certain I had the right people on my team.
But how to get in? I couldn’t force it, and I hadn’t the slightest idea how to pick locks. Penny and Avery could have figured it out, but not me. Fred and I especially were always useless at breaking the rules.
Thinking about him brought a new bout of panic, followed by a very idiotic idea. According to Demitra, I could control the Others. The Others, as far as I knew, weren’t restrained by physical limitations of this world.
Open the door… Open the door…
I felt a bit silly, standing there with my eyes scrunched into slits and shouting with my mind. The longer I stood there, the more scared I became that Deio and Demitra would walk in on me.
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