“I’m so glad I got to know you,” she told her dad. “I wish we’d had more time.”
“We will,” he promised. “We’ll have all the time in the world, soon.” He held out a hand towards her, but Dylan shook her head. She only had the strength to do this once, she wanted to do it together.
“Mum,” she whispered.
Joan smiled at her, fierce and strong, just like she always was. Dylan tried to fix the picture in her head, to store in her memory so she’d always have it there.
“I know we didn’t always get on,” Dylan said, “but I love you. I hope you know that.”
“Oh baby, of course I do! And I love you. You’re the most wonderful thing in my world.”
Dylan bit back a sob. There was one more thing she wanted to say.
“When it’s… your turn…” She hauled in a breath. “If something happens to either of you in the wasteland, if something terrible goes wrong and you become a wraith, I’ll come for you. I’ll come for you and bring you back. I swear it.”
That was too much for Joan. With a cry, she threw herself forwards, drawing Dylan into her arms and surrounding her with love. A moment later, her dad joined them, pulling them together and making them one. Dylan had a single, glorious moment to revel in it, to feel the love pouring out of her parents and enveloping her in warmth…
Then they were gone, and she stood, empty-handed. Empty to the bottom of her soul.
Dylan glanced around, took in the room, Jack and Susanna on the sofa, Tristan gazing sorrowfully at her from near the fireplace. Silence rang in the air until it was deafening. For a second, she felt nothing. Then it started, a ripple in her chest that echoed outwards, magnifying in size and strength as it went. It stole her breath and left her reeling, her nerves tingling with pain. She made an inhuman sound and then she was falling.
Tristan caught her before she hit the floor.
“It’s OK,” he whispered in her ear. “It’s OK. I’m here. Just breathe, Dylan. Just breathe.”
Didn’t he understand? She couldn’t breathe. There was no air to breathe. A dead weight in his arms, Dylan could do nothing but shake and sob and wait for her soul to die – because surely it couldn’t survive this.
Dylan didn’t even want it to, because then she’d have to face saying goodbye to Tristan.
And she knew she would not survive that.
CHAPTER 24
In and out. In and out. Tristan sat on the floor with his back to the rough stone wall, Dylan cuddled into his front, and concentrated on just breathing.
Watching Dylan fall apart when her parents were pulled out of the wasteland and back to the real world had destroyed something in him. She was hurting inside, he knew, her heart torn open and left to bleed. And there was nothing he could do about it. There was no monster to slay, no bandage he could apply that would fix the wound. He could do nothing but sit here and hold her. Useless.
He couldn’t even think of the right words to say to comfort her, because his thoughts were in a blind panic. The moment was coming, moving closer and closer like a high-speed train, and he was helpless to stop it. In fact, he had to actively move towards it, be complicit in his own destruction.
Saying goodbye to Dylan would end him. And then he’d have to go on, day after day, soul after soul. Tristan didn’t know how he was supposed to do it.
In and out. In and out.
The sky outside was lightening by degrees. Tristan was aware of it, and of Susanna stirring on the sofa, gathering herself to move from the comfort of Jack’s embrace and test her leg. It should be fine, Tristan knew, and if Susanna was feeling anything remotely close to what Tristan was, any lingering pain from the break would be nothing.
In and out. In and out.
Today, the lake. Four of them in the little boat was going to be tight, but as long as Dylan and Jack were able to contain their emotions, it should be all right. This wasn’t their wasteland, but now that Joan and James had gone, Tristan wasn’t sure how it would react, whether it would feed off either one – or both – of them.
Murmuring from the sofa across the room spurred him, finally, into nudging Dylan back to consciousness. She wasn’t sleeping, but she’d retreated deep into herself, to a place where she was protected and safe, and the harsh realities of life – and death – didn’t apply.
“Angel, we need to start getting ready to go.”
Dylan didn’t speak, she just climbed silently to her feet.
Tristan’s legs throbbed with relief – Dylan didn’t weigh much, but she’d been sitting on him all night and the stone floor wasn’t exactly cushioned – but he immediately missed the warmth of her, the comfort of touch. Getting his numb legs beneath him, he stood and immediately reached out, dropping a hand on her shoulder. He needed that connection, that tangible contact that told him he hadn’t lost her. Not yet.
In and out. In and out.
It didn’t take long for them to get ready to leave the safe house. It wasn’t as if any one needed to eat or drink or slip round the side to use a make-shift toilet. A cloud hung over the space as they readied themselves. Nobody spoke much, the quiet punctuated only by Jack’s murmured enquiries about Susanna’s leg.
“It’s fine,” she assured him. “Good as new.”
Tristan doubted that was true, but it would hold up and, if she could avoid injuring it again today, it would be completely healed after one more night of resting.
Taking the lead, as always, he walked to the door and swung it wide. Dylan joined him there, the two of them staring out at the narrow length of the valley.
“I thought it might have reverted back to the real wasteland,” she said, the first words she’d spoken in hours. She glanced at him. “Did you know it would stay like this?”
“I wasn’t sure what would happen,” Tristan answered honestly. “This is all unchartered territory.”
“We’ve been experiencing a lot of that lately,” Dylan offered, a small attempt at lightness. Knowing what it cost her, Tristan grabbed her hand and squeezed her fingers. She squeezed back, the tiny smile on her face wobbling.
“Shall we go?” Susanna asked quietly behind them. She, too, was looking with interest at the skin that still held true in the wasteland. The quiet surprise on her face told Tristan that she hadn’t been sure what would happen either. He didn’t know if it was the Inquisitor’s doing, or if the wasteland was just reacting to the presence of souls, any souls, but he was grateful for it.
“Yeah,” he said. “Let’s go.”
His feet knew the way to the lake and he let them carry him in the right direction, shutting off his mind. If he thought about it, he might just turn tail and run, heading back to the safe house and dragging Dylan with him. Like she said, they could stay there for ever, but, just as he’d said, it was dangerous. A soul wasn’t supposed to stay in the wasteland for long, and Tristan didn’t know what might happen if they broke the rules.
He’d learned the hard way recently that actions had consequences – and he would not risk Dylan. He thought he might be able to go on, somehow, if he at least knew that she was safe behind the line. She might even be happy there, eventually, when it was her parents’ time to join her. A small part of Tristan hoped he’d be the one to ferry them. That way, he’d be able to ensure they made it, and it would be the closest he’d ever come to touching her again, seeing her. He’d have all of their memories – minus the ones the Inquisitor decided they wouldn’t be allowed to keep – and that would be something. Something to treasure, to keep him company though the long hours of the endless nights that awaited him.
Finally, the lake came into view. As one, they stopped. Yesterday, Tristan hadn’t really thought much about the lake. He’d been more worried about Susanna, about how upset she was going to be to discover that she was mistaken about the wraith, that she’d only imagined it to be Jack, and that he was really gone.
How wrong Tristan had been about that one.
Now, coming back here with D
ylan, it seemed more intimidating. More frightening. He’d seen what the lake wraiths had done to Susanna, and felt the ominous strength of whatever unearthly creature had roused itself from the lake’s depths. But more than that, he’d almost lost Dylan here last time, and everything in him warred against taking her back out on that open stretch of water. Glancing to the side, he saw Dylan and Susanna staring at the lake with apprehension, but also grim determination.
Jack, though, looked terrified.
“Susanna,” Tristan murmured.
He didn’t have the relationship with Jack to calm him. He could get him on the boat, he was sure about that, but if Jack’s emotions had the ability to influence the currently calm waters, they’d all quickly end up overboard.
Tristan looked up at the sky. A light slate-grey, it refused to reveal its secrets. Perhaps it would react to Jack’s fear, perhaps not.
Susanna turned to look at Tristan, then followed his line of sight to Jack. Worry and compassion clouded her face and she reached out for her soul.
“Hey,” she said. “It’ll be all right. There are two of us to keep you safe now. We’ll get across, I promise.”
As soon as the words were out, she winced. Tristan did too: she’d promised Jack she’d get him across the real wasteland, and that had almost ended in disaster.
Jack, though, was too lost in panic for her words to penetrate. “I can’t,” he mumbled. “I just can’t.”
He was shaking so hard, Tristan could actually see it, tiny tremors racking his frame.
“You can.” Susanna gripped his hand tightly. “I’m going to tether you to me, all right? That way we’ll always be connected. No matter what happens, nothing will separate us.”
Tristan didn’t think Jack really heard her, but then he turned towards his ferryman, hope a flicker in his eyes.
“A tether?”
“There’s a rope,” Susanna said. “I’ll tie us together.”
Tristan had planned to use the rope to tether him and Dylan together, and he hadn’t seen a second one in the shed, but looking at Jack, he realised this was the only way they were going to get him in the boat, short of putting a compulsion on him so hard, they risked shattering his mind. After having lived for days as a wraith, who knew what damage had already been done.
“Shall we go?” he suggested.
Nobody argued, so Tristan took Dylan’s hand and started down the slope. He was leading her to safety, he reminded himself when his body fought every single step. When she crossed the line, she would be safe.
That the same journey would lead to his doom was something he was just going to have to live with.
“The boat’s already out,” Dylan noticed quietly. “I thought you said the wasteland always reset itself, that the boat moved back to the shed each time?”
“It does,” Tristan replied, “but we’re still in the same wasteland. This is where Susanna and I left it yesterday.”
Yesterday, when that creature had smashed at the bottom of the boat. It hadn’t leaked then – not much, at least – but they were going to have to take it back out, more heavily laden, today. Tristan could do nothing but hope it survived the trip: there was only one boat, and not enough time to walk around the lake.
“Let’s just get this over with,” Susanna muttered. She was pale, Tristan noticed, and she kept glancing at Jack, who was looking near catatonic with fear now that they were at the water’s edge.
“You all get in,” Tristan offered. “I’ll push the boat out.”
It didn’t take long for Susanna to tie a length of the rope around her middle and then lasso Jack in the same way. There was enough left to include Dylan in the safety-line and Susanna held it out to her in silent question, but Tristan shook his head. If Jack and Susanna went overboard, he didn’t want Dylan to be pulled in after them. He’d look after her himself.
“Get in,” he repeated.
It was harder, getting the little rowing boat afloat on his own with two extra people weighing it down, but Susanna needed to stay in the boat to comfort Jack, and there was no way Tristan was asking Dylan to set foot in the water. He heaved, straining every muscle in his back and shoulders, and the boat had no option but to give way, edging slowly into the lapping waves.
The boat rode lower in the water, so Tristan had to wade in until the lake was up to his knees before he could vault in, sprinkling everyone inside with water.
“Sorry,” he said, but no one responded. They were all too tense.
Taking the oars, Tristan sighed then started powering them forward. He kept a close eye on the cracked planks in the hull, but nothing seemed to be seeping through. They weren’t in danger of sinking, at least. The weather, too, was holding. Dylan was clearly nervous, and Jack was just about keeping it together, but the water stayed calm, and the monsters stayed beneath, where they belonged.
Stroke after stroke, Tristan took them into the middle of the lake, and then towards the far shore.
It was too quick. Too easy. Though Tristan desperately wanted to get Dylan to safety, a part of him had hoped for disaster, for something ill to befall them so that they’d have to abandon the attempt, return to the safe house they’d just left.
Something to give him just a little longer with Dylan.
The boat nearly unseated him when it hit a sandbank just a metre or two off the shore. On autopilot, Tristan got out of the boat and helped Dylan clamber out after him. Jack was out and on the stony beach before Tristan even had time to turn back to him. Susanna hobbled along beside him.
“Come on, Jack,” she said when she reached the shore. “Let’s go inside.”
Jack didn’t hesitate, following Susanna into the safe house. With a long look at Tristan, thick with meaning, Susanna closed the door. She was giving each of them time, he realised. A final few moments of stolen time to spend together with their souls.
Tristan turned to Dylan, opened his arms to her. “Come here,” he croaked.
This was it, the end. Tomorrow, Tristan would deliver Dylan to the line. She’d walk through it, and he’d never see her again.
Gathering Dylan to him, Tristan sat down on the pebbles and allowed himself to feel the joy of simply holding her. Of being with her, feeling her breathe and letting the wispy tendrils of her hair tickle his face. This memory had to last a lifetime. An endless lifetime.
As if mocking him and his pain, the sun burst through the clouds as they sat there on the shore. It shined down on them, turning the sprawl of the lake into a thousand glistening sparkles.
* * *
“They’re not coming inside?” Jack looked out through the one window of the safe house towards where Tristan and Dylan were huddled together. “Is it safe out there?”
“They’ll be safe for a while,” Susanna said. “It’s only mid-afternoon.”
“But they’d be safer in here, wouldn’t they?”
Susanna shrugged. “I guess so, but—”
“But?”
She stared at him, willing the burn behind her eyes to hold. It was going to be a long night if she started crying now.
“We’re almost there. Tomorrow, Tristan and I will deliver you both to the line, and you’ll go through.” She swallowed. “We’ll never see each other again. I just thought it might be nice, you know…” She shrugged.
“A bit of privacy for them,” Jack concluded.
“For all of us.” Dammit, the tears just wouldn’t stay put. “This is our goodbye too, and I didn’t want to share it with them.”
Jack smiled then. The slow, warm smile that Susanna hadn’t seen on his face until they’d been trapped together in the safe house in the real wasteland, the one that had developed after countless days of warily circling each other. After they made peace with both of their actions and called a fragile truce that morphed slowly into a friendship so strong that no distance could break the bonds that bound them together.
There would never be another Jack.
He crossed the room to her and
pulled her into a hug, and Susanna felt herself dissolve. She clung to him, and felt his arms wrap around her waist as he hung just as tightly onto her. Unbalanced, they toppled until they were half-kneeling, half-sitting on the stone floor. Susanna’s leg gave a vicious twinge, but she ignored it, unwilling to let go.
“I don’t want to go without you,” Jack mumbled into her hair.
“It’ll be all right,” Susanna reassured him. “You don’t need to be afraid.”
Jack pulled back slightly, dropping his head so that he could glower down at Susanna.
“That’s not why!” he told her. “I want you to come because I want you to come!”
Though his words didn’t really make sense, Susanna understood what he was trying to say. The words, nonsensical as they were, meant a lot to her.
“I know,” she replied. “I wish I could come with you, too.”
Susanna had stood in front of the line so many times she’d lost count, and she’d wished it was possible for her to take that step, to see what was beyond, almost every time. This was different, though. This time, for the first time, she wanted to go for no other reason than to be with Jack. If all that was beyond the line was a little cottage like this one, empty of everything and everyone, Susanna thought she could be happy, so long as she had him beside her.
“I want to offer to stay here with you,” Jack said, “but I’m too afraid of becoming one of those things again.” He gave her a heartbreakingly sad smile. “I’m a coward.”
“No, you aren’t,” she disagreed. “And I wouldn’t let you, anyway. It’s too dangerous here. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you. Again.”
She added the last on a whim, offering Jack a little quirk of her lips, and it worked: he laughed.
“We’ve been through a lot, you and me,” he said.
“We have.” That was an understatement.
“You won’t forget about me, will you?”
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