Outcasts

by Claire McFall

  “Actually—”

  “That’s right,” Dylan said loudly, drowning out Tristan’s quiet rebuttal. “I won’t be alone, so you don’t have to worry about me.” She turned to stare at Tristan, daring him to refute her.

  Joan gave a strangled squawk that might have been at attempt at a laugh. “Not worry about you? Oh God, Dylan. I can’t… This can’t be right. It just can’t.” She turned to Tristan, a fire lighting her eyes. “How could you let her do this? You could have stopped her!”

  “No, Mum.” Dylan blocked her mum’s view of Tristan, standing as a shield before him. “Don’t blame him. He wanted me to let you go, but I couldn’t. It was my choice. If you want to be mad at someone, be mad at me.”

  All the fight drained out of Joan and she sank down onto the worn and faded sofa that ran along the back wall. She put her head in her hands, her shoulders curled in protectively, and for the first time in Dylan’s life she noticed how frail her mum was. How brittle she looked, as if she was ready to shatter. Her skin was grey and her mouth was tight and pinched. It was a look Dylan had seen so often on Joan’s face growing up that she’d stopped really noticing it. Then it had faded away when Dylan’s dad had come back into their lives until it was nothing but a ghostly shadow.

  Dylan had brought it back, and that hurt.

  She was doing this for them, though. Giving them a chance to live. And when the Inquisitor manipulated their memories, they wouldn’t remember this moment, the choice Dylan had made for them.

  And Dylan would wait for them. They’d be a real family, a complete family, eventually. She moved so that Tristan was in her line of vision. No, she realised. They’d never be complete – or at least, she wouldn’t be – but that was her burden to live with.

  “Dylan, you look like you’re about to fall down,” Tristan commented in a low voice. “Here.” He dragged a stool from beneath a rickety kitchen table. “Sit on this.”

  Now that the worst of the emotional storm seemed to have passed, Dylan felt her adrenaline, and her strength, fading. She gladly took the seat and then watched as Tristan moved into the middle of the space, taking quiet control.

  “We didn’t think we were going to catch you,” he said. “We thought you were too far ahead.” He flicked his glance at Susanna, who was shifting a little uncomfortably now. “Why are you still here?”

  Thick, uncomfortable silence.

  “Because I asked them to stay.” Susanna looked like she was torn between shame and defiance. “I asked them to wait for me in the safe house.”

  “You left your souls?” Tristan asked. Then he frowned. “Wait. Go back a bit. Why do you even have two souls? The Inquisitor said Dylan’s parents would be together, but not that they would be sharing a ferryman; it’s far too dangerous to try and protect two souls at once.”

  “I don’t know,” Susanna said, a hint of belligerence colouring her tone. “I was sent to the flat, and two of them were there.”

  “That’s not right,” Tristan argued, then he waved his hand through the air, dismissing it as unimportant. Or at least, a mystery they couldn’t solve. “Why did you ask them to wait? What were you doing?”

  Susanna didn’t answer. She looked away, shame winning the war.

  “Did you find him?” Dylan’s dad asked.

  It went very, very quiet as Tristan regarded Susanna with dawning understanding – and bone-deep disapproval.

  Dylan didn’t understand. “Find who?”

  “Jack,” Tristan stated. Susanna’s shoulders hunched a hair higher, but she didn’t contest him.

  “Jack?” Dylan repeated dumbly. “Jack’s here? Where? How?”

  “He’s not here,” Tristan said. “He’s in the lake.”

  “The lake?” Dylan scrunched her forehead, struggling to catch up, but Tristan wasn’t making any sense. It did explain why Susanna was soaked to her skin, however. “I don’t understand, how can he be in the lake?” Then, between one heartbeat and the next, she understood. “He’s become a wraith?”

  Susanna’s reaction told her she was right. Dylan could also tell that she’d hurt the other ferryman, blurting it out like that with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.” She bit her lip, still feeling like she was missing something. “If he’s become a wraith, what were you trying to do?” There was only one thing that made sense. “Were you trying to get him back? I thought that was impossible.”

  She looked to Tristan for confirmation, but he was concentrating on Susanna, sympathy softening the condemnation on his face.

  “It is impossible,” he reminded the other ferryman. “He’s gone, Susanna. You risked the safety of your souls for nothing. If he’s become a wraith, he’s gone and he’s not coming back. You know that.”

  Though Dylan could see Susanna knew she was in the wrong, she still came out fighting.

  “We were told we could never, ever cross into the real world, either,” she shot back. “Now we know that wasn’t true!”

  “We shouldn’t have!” Tristan replied, just as angrily. “Look at all the trouble we’ve caused! We meddled in things we didn’t understand, with no idea what the consequences might be.”

  “I made a promise, Tristan!” Susanna replied, half-furious, half-pleading. “I swore to him that I’d get him through the wasteland and I let him down.”

  “You should never have made that promise,” Tristan said. “You know that. And you’re just going to have to live with the fact that you broke your word. Listen to me carefully, Susanna. He. Is. Gone. He’s a wraith, there’s no coming back from that. There’s nothing inside them, they’re just empty, hate-filled shells.”

  “That’s not true!” Susanna had tears in her eyes now. From her position on the stool, Dylan watched her clench her hands into determined fists. “Jack recognised me in the water. He helped me when other wraiths attacked. If he hadn’t, I’d have been dragged under and trapped there.”

  A quiet gasp from Joan drew Dylan’s attention. When she looked back to Susanna it was to see the ferryman looking stricken.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “It was dangerous, but I had to try. And I came back.”

  “You might not have,” Tristan retorted. “It was a stupid risk to take.”

  “You would have done it for Dylan.”

  Tristan opened his mouth and then closed it again.

  “He’s not gone,” Susanna said, pressing her advantage. “He responded to me, I know he did. And on our way here, in a safe house, we found a wraith trapped inside—”

  “Inside the safe house?” Tristan asked, but Susanna ignored him.

  “Joan sang to it and it responded!”

  “You’re imagining things,” Tristan retorted. “They’re gone, Susanna. There’s no humanity left in them. They’re—”

  “She’s telling the truth,” Dylan’s mum interjected, surprising everyone. “When I sang, it calmed it. Then, as soon as I stopped, it was rabid again. I don’t understand it, but I saw the change in the wraith. It recognised the music.”

  Susanna stared at Tristan beseechingly. A quick glance to her left told Dylan that both of her parents were looking to him, too. Dylan had had a lot of practice watching Tristan’s expressions. She could read him like a book and she knew what was coming. He was going to shut this down, tell Susanna it was too dangerous, that she needed to forget about Jack. Stick to her role and stop risking the souls in her charge.

  She also knew that he would never, ever have given up on her. No matter what he said, if she ever became a wraith he would try anything to get her back – just like she’d do for him.

  “He protected you?” Dylan asked.

  Susanna nodded her head, looking to Dylan gratefully. “He stopped other wraiths from attacking me.” Her earnest expression twisted. “But he wouldn’t let me near him, and I couldn’t catch him and fight off the other wraiths, not on my own.”

  Not on her own…

  “But if you had another
ferryman…?” Dylan let the thought tail off.

  “Dylan, no.”

  “If I had another ferryman, I think I could get him onto the boat,” Susanna answered, very, very quietly. “And then, well I can either do something – call him back to me somehow – or I can’t. But at least I’ll know.”

  That was the thing that was really tearing Susanna apart, Dylan thought. The idea that Jack was in there somewhere, trapped and calling for her. Hoping she’d save him.

  Dylan hadn’t thought Jack and Susanna were all that close – or that they even liked each other – but perhaps their time together had changed that. Susanna seemed genuinely heartbroken. The grief on her face was impossible to deny.

  “Don’t look at me that way, Dylan,” Tristan said. He, of course, could read her face as well as she could read his. “I won’t risk you, not for anyone.”

  Susanna flinched, but if Tristan noticed, he ignored it.

  “Imagine it was me,” Dylan whispered. “Just one day, one chance. If the two of you work together, it’ll be safer, won’t it?”

  Tristan remained silent, reluctant to agree, but over his shoulder Susanna nodded.

  “It’s dangerous, Dylan,” he said quietly. “If something happens, I might not come back.”

  He was just trying to scare her, she knew. It was working, but she did her best to keep the worry off her face.

  “You’ll come back to me,” she told him. “I know you will.” Then she hammered the final nail into the coffin. “It’ll give me a little more time with my mum and dad,” she reminded him. “A chance to say goodbye.”

  The safe house seemed to hold its breath as Tristan deliberated. Dylan knew the very moment he made up his mind, because his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed dangerously. He drew in a deep breath through his nose and shook his head. Susanna looked crestfallen, but Dylan wasn’t fooled. She smiled slowly.

  “It’s the right thing to do,” she said.

  “Tristan?” Susanna asked, still not sure.

  “One chance,” Tristan told her. “But know this: if it comes down to it, I will give up Jack – and you – to make sure I get back to Dylan. Be very clear on that.”

  “I understand,” Susanna breathed. “Thank you.” Then she turned shining eyes on Dylan. “Thank you!”

  If Dylan had been told, back when she first met Susanna in the real world, that one day she’d be actively trying to push the two ferrymen together, she would have laughed. Then swore. Then laughed some more. But this was – quite literally – a matter of life and death, and there was no place for petty jealousy.

  Besides, she knew with absolute certainty that Tristan loved her and her alone.

  And the lengths Susanna was going to to try and save Jack, the pain in her eyes when she spoke of him, well, those were reason alone to help her.

  CHAPTER 22

  It was awkward, striding out into the morning light with Tristan. So many nights they’d shared companionable quiet, Susanna wishing she could break that impenetrable barrier and talk to him. Now she could speak as much as she wanted to, and yet she found she had nothing to say.

  Well, there was one thing.

  “Thank you.”

  Tristan just grunted. She supposed that was because she’d said the words about ten times since he made the decision last night.

  They’d never really had the opportunity to talk about what happened in the real world. What Susanna did. Why she did it. The way Tristan tried to stand up for her, but then relinquished her to her fate to save himself, to save Dylan.

  Now they had that time – and the freedom to do it – but Susanna found herself trudging silently along, a step behind Tristan.

  “When we get there,” he said, not turning to look at her, “I think the best idea is just to row right out to the centre, where it’s deepest. That’s where the wraiths tend to gather, so we’ll have the best chance of finding him there.”

  “That’s what I did yesterday,” Susanna answered, trying to keep the note of petulance out of her voice. She wasn’t stupid; she hadn’t just stood on the shore and shouted on him like she was trying to retrieve a misbehaving Labrador. “I just couldn’t fight off the rest of the wraiths and grab him at the same time. Not without being pulled under.” She paused as they reached the crest of the hill, the gently lapping lake laid out before them. “If you can keep them off me, I can get him. I know I can.”

  “I’m not going in the water, Susanna,” Tristan told her. “I can’t.”

  She was left scrambling as Tristan began striding down to the pebbled shore.

  “What?” She rushed to close the distance between them. “But I need your help! I can’t do it without you!”

  Susanna caught up with him as he reached the little boathouse. She grabbed him by the sleeve and he stilled, turning to face her. His eyes were icy, detached and a little frightening. Susanna resisted the survival instinct that yelled at her to let go of him. If Tristan didn’t help her, she had no chance of getting Jack back. He’d be trapped under the water, for ever.

  “Please,” she begged.

  Tristan took hold of her hand and gently but firmly freed his arm. “I’ll help you,” he said. “I told you I would. But I can’t go in the water. I won’t risk being caught by the wraiths. If they manage to pull us both down, what’s going to happen to Dylan? To her parents? I’m sorry, but Jack’s soul is not worth theirs, not to me.”

  “You won’t be much help to me in the boat!” The retort came out without her permission, and she immediately wanted to call it back, particularly when Tristan bristled at her tone. It was true, though. All he’d be able to do from the boat was watch her drown.

  Tristan didn’t respond at first, he was too busy hefting up the plank used to keep the doors closed. Susanna realised a moment too late that she probably should have helped, but he handled the heavy, awkward hunk of wood much more easily than she ever had, tossing it aside effortlessly.

  “I’m going to be a lot of help to you in the boat,” Tristan said as he swung the door open and disappeared into the shadows inside. He slipped around the side of the little boat and lifted something from a hook on the wall. He held it up and offered her a small smile. “I’m going to be your tether.”

  A tether. Tying himself to her so he’d be there to haul her back up, out of the water, no matter what happened. Susanna started at him, dumbfounded. She’d never even noticed the rope was there before.

  “I could have used this,” she whispered, horrified at her own stupidity. “I could have tethered Jack to me, and they wouldn’t have been able to take him. Why didn’t I think of that? How many souls have I lost here, and I didn’t think of that!”

  At her words, shock rippled across Tristan’s face and he looked back down at the rope. He closed his eyes and shook his head, then let out a bark of dark laughter. “If it makes you feel better,” he said, “I didn’t either.”

  The tiny hint of camaraderie lightened Susanna’s mood for a moment, but it didn’t last. Hindsight was twenty–twenty, but she cursed herself for not seeing how easy it would have been to prevent what happened, prevent Jack from being taken from her.

  “You live and learn,” Tristan said, coming back around the boat so that he could begin hauling it up out of its cosy home. This time, Susanna stepped up to help. “We’ll know to do it with souls from now on. Well,” that hint of darkness back in his voice, “those souls we want to save.”

  “What do you mean?” Susanna asked, surprised. “You’ll be across the line with Dylan.”

  “No,” Tristan said, giving the boat a particularly vicious heave. “I won’t.”

  “But she said—”

  “I know what she said. But I can’t cross the line. When she leaves, I’ll go back to doing what I always did, being who I always was.”

  The breath rushed out of Susanna as she took in what Tristan was saying. “Does Dylan know?” she asked quietly.

  Surely she couldn’t; surely she wouldn’t do that to
Tristan?

  “She knows.” Stones skittered beneath the boat as the two of them manoeuvred it until it faced the water. “She wanted to save her parents, and this was the price.”

  Susanna didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t imagine how Tristan must feel, the hell he was going through. To be offered everything any ferryman had ever dreamed of, and then have it taken away. To have to ferry the soul that was responsible for stealing it from you. And still love her.

  “I’m sorry,” she offered, though it didn’t feel like enough.

  “Let’s just do this,” Tristan muttered.

  Tristan took control of the oars once they had the boat afloat, scything through the water with strong, smooth strokes that Susanna could only watch enviously, thinking of every time she’d puffed and panted and sweated her way across.

  “Tie the rope around your waist,” Tristan said when he’d powered them to the very heart of the lake. “Make sure it’s really tight; you don’t want to slip free.”

  He gave her a steady look and she heard what he didn’t add: if she did, she was on her own. Shuddering slightly, Susanna reached for the length of rope and wound it round her middle. It was thick and had stiffened with age, but she forced it into a knot, tugging experimentally to make sure it would hold. While she worked, Tristan tied the other end to the bench seat of the boat and held the rope in his hand, ready to take the strain, should she need it.

  Knowing time was of the essence – Tristan had been clear that he would give her one chance, and one chance only – Susanna contemplated the water.

  “I hope we don’t disturb the creature,” she murmured.

  “The wraiths?” Tristan asked, surprised. “I thought that was the idea. How will you find Jack otherwise?”

  “No.” Susanna shook her head. “Not the wraiths, the other thing. The big thing.”

  Silence echoed over the lake.

  “There’s nothing else down there,” Tristan said after a long moment. “It’s just the wraiths.”

  “I saw it,” Susanna told him. “It’s huge, with long tentacles thick enough to pick up a man. That’s what got Jack, that’s why I lost him.”