by Paula Weston
I flinch. Rafa is leaning against a tree at the edge of the path. The startled birds take off from the branches above him.
‘Don’t you walk anywhere?’
‘Not if I can help it.’
I keep moving, forcing him to follow.
‘We could get there quicker if we—’
‘No.’ I don’t look at him. ‘I’d like to enjoy this last small slice of normality.’
Rafa grabs my elbow. Not roughly, but it brings me to a standstill. ‘What have you agreed to?’
‘I offered myself as a trade for Mags. I told Daniel I’d stay at the Sanctuary. Let them train me.’
‘Please tell me you’re not naive enough to think anything has changed.’
‘No.’
‘Then why?’
‘I’m not planning on staying. I’ll go with them when I know Mags is safe, and then I’ll shift straight back.’
He raises his eyebrows. ‘How are you going to do that?’
‘I was hoping you’d teach me.’
He stares at me for a good five seconds. ‘You’re joking, right?’
‘Can’t you do it?’
‘Of course I can. With time. What you’re asking, it’s like…It’s like a ten-year-old asking to fly an F1-11.’
‘I’m like a ten-year-old now?’
‘Shit, Gabe.’ He runs his hands through his hair. ‘Okay, so maybe it’s not quite as bad as that, but it’s not something I can teach you in an hour.’
Without shifting, I have no plan. The cage flashes into my mind, the diamond-shaped wire, the blood-soaked sawdust.
‘There’s a hundred different things that can go wrong when you shift. For a start, the first few times you end up in places you don’t expect. You think you’re crossing the room and you end up in the middle of a herd of goats in Afghanistan.’
‘Then why haven’t you started showing me already? My voice rises. ‘You’ve never offered to teach me a thing.’
His voice flattens. ‘How was I to know you’d go all weak-kneed at the sight of Pretty Boy? If you’d listened to me—’
‘Listened to you about what?’ The anger comes easily. ‘You’ve kept me blundering around in the dark, and don’t act like you haven’t been enjoying yourself—’
‘I’m not the one who put you in a cage with a hellion.’
‘But you’ve been having fun at my expense.’
His eyes darken. ‘Yeah, it was a blast going back to the Sanctuary.’
‘That’s not what I—’
‘It doesn’t matter that I told Nathaniel I’d never set foot there again. It’s not like it cost me my pride or anything. And yeah, it was so much fun to find you torn up like that.’
‘Rafa…’ I rub my eyes. ‘That came out wrong.’
He stares past me.
‘I don’t want to go to the Sanctuary,’ I say quietly. ‘So what do I do?’
I watch the birds resettle in the cluster of trees across the path, flashes of red and green between the branches.
‘We need to know Nathaniel’s next move,’ Rafa says finally. ‘Let’s get back to your place and wait for Malachi.’
He doesn’t look at me, and I think he’s going to shift and leave me to walk home alone. But then he moves off on foot.
I fall into step with him. There’s a strained silence until we’re well clear of the park, only the noise of the birds and the wind. Finally, I can’t stand it any longer. ‘How do you think Jason learned to shift?’
We’re crossing a small footbridge. The creek beneath is racing after last night’s storm, rubbish caught at its edges.
‘No idea. But I’ve had enough of his ducking and weaving.’
‘Have you ever considered you might get more out of him if you’re actually pleasant, instead of bitching at him all the time?’
He looks at me. ‘You’ve got a short memory.’
‘Are you trying to be a smartarse?’
He almost smiles. ‘You know what I mean.’
‘Not really.’
‘It’s just, you’re so much like you sometimes. I keep forgetting you’re not, you know, you.’
I can’t tell if it’s a compliment or not, but at least his mood is improving.
‘Yeah, well, I’m starting to wish I was.’
‘I don’t know.’ Rafa puts his hands in his pockets. ‘Maybe we shouldn’t be in such a hurry.’
Rafa goes through the gate first and scans the yard. Jason is probably inside, but I’m not ready to face a kitchen without Maggie again yet, so I sit on the top step. It’s the best spot to enjoy the view. Two freighters dot the horizon, so far out they look stationary. I lean back on my hands and watch a yacht motoring into the marina.
‘You and Jude have never been happy unless you’re near the sea,’ Rafa says, sitting down beside me. ‘He had this theory that your mother came from a family of fishermen.’
I frown. ‘Didn’t we know?’
‘Nathaniel said he found you somewhere around the Mediterranean. He never gave specifics.’
‘What about you?’
‘French Alps, apparently.’
‘You don’t believe him?’
‘It’s like everything Nathaniel says, there’s no way to know for sure. But it doesn’t matter where we come from, does it? Just who.’
A smattering of small clouds drifts across the sun and mutes the glare off the water.
‘You could’ve gone anywhere,’ Rafa says. ‘Why here?’
‘I don’t know. I wanted to get away from everything that reminded me of Jude.’ I untie the scarf around my neck. It’s hot and making me itch. I rub the bite mark. ‘And I still ended up at the beach.’
‘What else do you remember?’
‘Nothing. God, how many times do I have to say it?’
‘Since the accident. What do you remember about being in hospital?’
‘Oh.’
How do I dredge up those memories without the weight that comes with them?
‘Where were you?’ he presses.
‘Melbourne.’
‘Are you sure? How do you know that was real?’
‘The pain.’ My fingers go to the old scar under my hair. ‘Everything before is hazy, even the crash. But the hospital, and everything since—it’s clear.’
Every day of rehab. Every night, screaming for Jude.
‘Did anyone visit you?’
‘No.’
‘You told Jason a nurse broke the news about the funeral. It was a woman?’
I nod. ‘I can’t remember her face.’
‘There must be something.’
‘I remember her accent—Irish or Scottish, I think.’
A vague memory surfaces. The ward at night. The nurse talking to me, telling me I’m doing well, that I’ll be all right. The dark room smelling of hospital and grief, her uniform faintly of menthol cigarettes.
‘That’s a start,’ Rafa says. ‘We’ll find her and see if she remembers who delivered the message. I’d like to know how you turned up at that hospital. Someone really went out of their way to hide you.’
‘Shifted, you mean?’
‘Yep.’
‘Then how come I was so busted up?’
‘Maybe you started off worse.’
I was in agony that first month in hospital. I find it hard to believe it could have been worse.
‘So, that’s the plan,’ Rafa says. ‘We go to Melbourne.’
‘Maggie first.’ I hug my knees. ‘Can I see those photos again?’
He gives me a blank look.
‘Of Jude. My phone’s in Italy, remember? I didn’t get the chance to collect it when I checked out of the Sanctuary.’
‘Right.’ He hands his phone over.
I close my eyes, feeling the weight of it in my palm. And then I look at my brother for the first time with open eyes.
It should be different, knowing this Jude is more real than the one in my memories, but it isn’t. I linger on the last image, where Jude is
staring out at the water.
‘Is that Patmos?’
‘Yeah,’ Rafa says. ‘We went back around the time you two started talking again. I’ve looked at that shot a thousand times.’ He leans closer. ‘He’s thinking about you there.’
I touch the screen. ‘Not me. Gabe.’
‘Same thing.’
‘Is it?’
Rafa’s eyes roam my face: my hair, my eyes, my lips. He doesn’t answer.
A throat clears behind us.
‘Ah, Goldilocks,’ Rafa says, standing up. ‘Got the coffee machine on in there?’
PATIENCE IS OVERRATED
Jason has found the ingredients for a date and walnut cake, and it’s cooling on the rack in the kitchen. It smells amazing. I don’t know if he overheard our conversation, and I don’t ask. I make coffee and cut the cake.
‘What do you think is going to happen this afternoon?’ I ask Rafa.
He’s seated at the bench, too busy buttering his slice to answer.
‘You know how much cholesterol is in that?’ Jason stares at the soaked cake.
Rafa slaps another layer on, just to annoy him. ‘So? Unless it makes my head fall off, it’s not going to kill me.’
‘But—’ Jason glances at me and lets it drop.
‘Malachi will turn up at some point,’ Rafa says through a mouthful of cake, ‘and tell you the place and time for the big exchange. It’ll all be very dramatic.’
‘And then what?’
He wipes his bottom lip with his thumb. It distracts me for a second. ‘Depends on the where and when.’
‘That’s not very helpful.’
‘Best I can do at this point.’ He absently wipes his buttery fingers on the side of his hoodie. ‘Look, Jude was the planner. I’m the doer. And when the time comes, I’ll do what needs doing.’
I nod, but I hate not having a plan.
Rafa gestures to my neck. ‘Give me a look at that.’
My hand comes up to cover the scar. My skin is still warm, and the scar is lumpy. I go over to him and offer my neck. He runs his fingertips over the wound.
‘Still hurt?’
‘A bit.’
‘You want to shift again?’
I shake my head.
His fingers linger on my skin. ‘You should put something on it so it doesn’t get too dry. I bet Goldilocks has a nice range of moisturisers in a man bag somewhere.’
‘Give it a rest,’ I say, leaning in to him.
Jason’s knife clatters to the table. His face is flushed. ‘Is all this because I managed to avoid your little cult?’
‘It’s because you’ve avoided responsibility.’
‘To do what? The bidding of a religious zealot?’
‘To sort through the endless shit of our existence, like the rest of us.’
Jason glares at him. ‘Tell me you wouldn’t have done exactly what I did if you’d had the chance?’
Rafa’s eyes narrow. ‘And what exactly did you do?’
‘I chose to stay on my own.’
‘How did you know there was any other way—and don’t give me your bullshit about having no contact with the Rephaim.’
‘I—’
There are three loud thuds on the front door.
Jason stands up. ‘Malachi.’
‘Just fucking spit it out,’ Rafa says.
‘It’s not a simple answer and we don’t have time.’
‘I’ll go,’ I say.
The hallway is full of shadows. Rafa materialises a few steps ahead of me, and doesn’t look back until he reaches the front door. He signals for me to open it. I pause for a heartbeat, and turn the handle. As usual, the rain has made the timber swell. The door sticks, then jerks open.
There’s no one there.
Rafa makes a noise—something between a grunt and a laugh. He points to a blank envelope nailed to the door.
‘I told you,’ he says. ‘Dramatic.’
I take it to the kitchen, opening it as I go. Three words written neatly on a piece of notebook paper.
Il ritiro. All’alba.
I turn it over, but there’s nothing on the back. I shove it at Rafa. ‘It’s obviously meant for you.’
He skims the page. ‘Retreat, at dawn.’
‘What does that mean? We have to leave in the morning?’
‘No,’ Jason says, reading over Rafa’s shoulder. ‘It’s a noun, not a verb. It’s the retreat.’
‘Does that mean something to either of you?’ I ask.
‘It means Daniel wants me to know you’ve made the deal,’ Rafa says. ‘Why else write it in Italian? He knew you’d have to show it to me.’
‘But what’s the point if we don’t know what he’s talking about?’ I push my hair off my face. ‘What if we can’t work it out?’
I need fresh air. I go to the window on the other side of the bench. Like the front door, it’s stiff from the recent rain. I push against the pane. It gives without warning, and I lose my balance. I’m half in, half out. Far enough out to see someone standing in the place where Rafa and I arrived not two days ago.
‘What the—’
Simon’s palms come up. ‘I know I shouldn’t be here, but listen for a second before you go off your brain. I think I know where Mags is.’
BITTERSWEET AFTERTASTE
We wait in silence while Simon comes inside. Did we say anything we shouldn’t have in the last few minutes? Rafa listened in on our conversations from that spot before. Hopefully Simon’s hearing isn’t as good as his.
The front door opens, and steps echo in the hallway. I tie the scarf back around my neck.
‘I thought you had to work,’ I say as soon as Simon appears.
‘And I thought I told you to stay out of this,’ Rafa says.
Simon stops near the fridge, wary. ‘I’ve known Mags longer than the three of you put together, so don’t tell me this is none of my business.’
‘Have you told anyone?’ Rafa’s eyes are dark, dangerous.
‘Not yet.’
Rafa smiles. It’s not friendly. There’s every chance he’s about to launch across the kitchen and take Simon somewhere far, far away. ‘Are you involved in this? Did you put this on the door?’ He holds up the note.
Simon baulks. ‘Of course I didn’t! God, dude, you’re paranoid.’
‘You just happened to be stalking Gabe at the same time someone leaves us a note?’
‘I was trying to find out what you’re doing to get Mags back. Excuse me for not trusting you. I was about to come around the front—’
‘Do you know what the Retreat means?’ Jason interrupts.
Simon nods. ‘There’s a place way up in the hinterland, a really exclusive, high-end resort. It’s a bunch of fancy cabins scattered through the rainforest. Each one’s completely isolated from the others. All your food is brought in before you get there and no one comes near you unless you call for something.’
‘Why would they stay so close?’ I ask.
Jason answers. ‘Why not? I mean, was there really any reason to take Maggie to’—he catches himself—’further away?’
No, there wasn’t. Not when I took the bait so easily. They only needed me to believe she was at the Sanctuary. She didn’t have to actually be there.
Rafa stares out the window at the orange sky. A muscle in his jaw twitches. ‘Pricks.’
Jason hands Simon a piece of cake. ‘How many cabins are up there?’
‘Six maybe—eight tops.’
‘How far away?’
‘A good hour by car. It’s a pretty windy road up the range.’
‘Why do you know it?’
‘Rick supplied the wine for a bunch of surgeons and their wives last year. We had to stock each of the cabins before they got there.’
Jason opens drawers until he finds a piece of paper and a pencil. He slaps them on the table. ‘Can you draw a map to show where they are? And the general layout of the cabins?’
‘It’ll be rough, but, yeah, I think
so.’
I move away from the table, my back to Simon, and catch Rafa’s eye. ‘Can we just go there?’ I flick my palm in front of my chest in a lame attempt to demonstrate shifting.
‘Too risky.’ Rafa checks Simon is still busy drawing. ‘With maps and a good description of the terrain we could get close, but I can’t risk arriving on Daniel’s lap by mistake. We need to take them by surprise.’
Something flutters in my chest. It could be hope. ‘You have a plan?’
‘Kind of.’ Rafa beckons me into the hallway, where we can still keep an eye on the table. ‘They’re not just going to hand Maggie over—not until they’ve got you back at the Sanctuary. So we’ll have to create a distraction. They don’t know about Goldilocks. He might be able to get her out before they work out what’s going on.’
Jason looks up from the table at his name.
‘But Mags doesn’t know about him either.’
‘So? He can still grab her and get the hell out of there.’
He means shift. ‘That’s going to be a nasty shock.’
‘She’ll get over it.’
I glance at Jason and he nods. Then the rest of Rafa’s plan registers. I draw him further down the hallway. ‘So, you and me, we’re going to take on whoever’s there?’
‘Wouldn’t that be something.’ Rafa half-smiles. ‘Back in the day, we could have taken down half the Sanctuary on our own. But given you’re not quite yourself, we’re going to need some back-up.’
I swallow. Please don’t let it be Mya. I’ve never met her, but I already know I don’t want her help. ‘Who?’
‘A couple of people who are very handy in a scrap.’
‘Are they Outcasts too?’
Too late, I wonder if the term is offensive, but it rolls right over Rafa.
‘Two of the best.’
He takes out his phone, and I close the kitchen door.
Rafa watches me as he dials and waits for an answer. He turns away to speak. ‘It’s me…Hang on, I’ll tell you in a sec. Look…’ He sighs. The voice on the other end is loud, but I can’t make out the words. ‘For fuck’s sake, Zak, I’m fine. And I’m not apologising…’ His shoulders tighten. ‘I don’t give a shit what she thinks.’
My pulse picks up.
He glances at me. ‘Yeah. I’m looking at her right now… Trust me, it’s weirder here.’ He looks away again. ‘I’ll explain when I see you…No. It’s complicated.’
