The Pioneer and the Savage

The Pioneer and The Savage

a novel

Jamie Thorogood

Badley Project 2020

8th April 2020

Foreword

For my Badley Project this year I have written a novel. I started thinking about The Pioneer and the Savage a couple of years ago, but only this year did I actually sit down and write it. It’s been an amazing experience to plan, write and bind, and something I’ll remember for a while. In this story I tried to address the issues of racism, sexism and living alongside – and respecting – nature. It follows the adventures of Piper Morning, a small-minded girl who travels to an island far away with her father. She meets a young, native boy and a friendship forms. It is 67,068 words in total. I hope you enjoy it! Here are some pictures of the binding process. Unfortunately, I couldn’t finish it (for obvious reasons), but managed to get about halfway through. I can’t wait to complete the binding when I get back to school.

Jamie Thorogood 22nd June 2020

The Pioneer & The Savage Table of Contents

Prologue ...... 1

Part 1 New Britton ...... 1 The Mysterious Boy ...... 2 A Visitor ...... 7 Rhaine ...... 16 Piper’s Promise ...... 21 The Winged Wolf ...... 25 Two Stolen Necklaces ...... 31 Magical Syrup ...... 33 Xavier Travels ...... 39 The Hartlands Crumble ...... 41

Part 2 The Forest of Endless Night ...... 44 The Jaguah ...... 45 Lillianna’s Past ...... 51 Lora Bianca, the Truth-Teller ...... 58 An Escape ...... 61 The Beast with Eight Legs ...... 64 Tessa’s Crystal ...... 71

Part 3 Upper Hills ...... 82 The Journey Begins ...... 83 Tasting the Sea ...... 87 Floridel Roberts ...... 92 Separation ...... 96 Charles’ House ...... 102 The Beast Behind the Door ...... 106 An Ancient Box ...... 110

Piper Fades ...... 116 Charles is Unravelled ...... 118 The Cellar ...... 124

Part 4 The Dulcimer Basin ...... 128 The First Settlement ...... 129 Emmet Moon ...... 135 Bonemother ...... 141 A Betrayal ...... 145 Moon-Tribe Gathers ...... 148 Rhaine’s Mother ...... 152 The Crack-in-the-Land ...... 157 Queen Haylah ...... 162

Epilogue ...... 166

Prologue

The savages of New Britton were infamous. Although their existence was intended only to be known by a select few, the whereabouts of the savages had somehow spread throughout the whole of the Brittish Isles. Whispered words passed from sealed lips had, over the years, morphed into terrifying tales told to naughty children: a shadow to haunt them while they slept. One particular tale involved a man from Britton itself. He was the one had had discovered New Britton a decade prior, had tricked the savages and seen their blood- curdling behaviour with his own eyes. In order to colonize the island - and in doing so stamp out the savage population – this man formed an expedition. A group of fearless men who were willing to brave the harsh climes and get rid of the savages forever.

Part 1

New Britton

1 The Mysterious Boy

The air was cold, as most morning air is. It hung crisp and cool on the branches of the trees and the reeds on the edge of the river, frosting the earth like powdered sugar. Not a bird sung; it was so early. And Piper Morning was awake, of course. She had risen an hour before usual, and now stood stirring the breakfast stew. The boiling water bubbled happily, spitting hot drops into Piper’s face now and again, tingling her cheeks with the high temperatures. She brushed her hair out of her eyes as she leaned over the mass of meat of vegetables, muttering to herself again how she wished it were shorter. “And they take you into the forest - kicking and screaming - and by your feet, they hang you from a tree. And then, with their teeth, they chew away your ears, bit by bit. And then they take your teeth, starting with the molars, and hang them on strings around their neck. Then they cook you, in a big pot like this one and they chew and chew until you’re all gone." Piper’s father, Xavier Morning, gulped. His naturally pale face had turned several shades whiter. “That’s a nice story, Piper." he said, voice threatening to break. “It’s not a story, Papa. Probably. I bet that is what they do." Xavier had to try his best not to collapse. He knew his daughter was picturing again, but he couldn’t help it; the man had frayed nerves. Plus, a proneness to worry and a pro- active imagination. He had to take a moment to compose himself. “I heard them saying they tan the skins of their victims and turn them into coats.” The girl smiled, relishing such ideas, and continued stirring breakfast. She stayed blissfully unaware at her father as he swooned dramatically. They’d been talking like this for almost an hour, and Xavier had had enough. Usually, his mornings were simple, and he didn’t get out of bed until gone ten. But not today: today, a crow had got inside the caravan, flapped around a bit until everyone was awake, and then left. They’d both been up since five. He yawned, stretching hard. “I think I might go inside and have a little nap, dear. Please do wake me when breakfast’s ready.” He was happy to have an excuse to finally leave his daughter and disappeared inside. Piper gave her best attempt at an enthusiastic smile until she was sure he was gone and then continued to picture, straining her eyes and staring hard at the muggy sky. She conjured up a dragon in the sky to clear the clouds and let the morning sun through.

Piper rummaged around in her bag to see if she could find her binoculars. This shoulder bag, which she loved so dearly, lay at her hips, filled to the brim with loose pieces of paper and notebooks. Her fingers closed around the cool metal of the binoculars and she put them to her eyes, searching the grass for any signs of life until a rustle in the grasses told her an animal was nearby. It was a prairie hare, she realised, long and lean, and Piper tried not to move. Slowly, it came towards her, and she held her breath. “Oh, don’t forget to add my parsley!" Xavier called. The hare bounded away. Piper put the binoculars back, disappointed, and stared out over the vast expanse of the Brittish prairie. She let her mind wander. The view was quite intimidating, she thought, looking as if it stretched out farther than even a forest eagle could see. She imagined herself dropping the spoon and leaving the stew and running across the hills until she came to the horizon, chasing it until her feet hurt. Piper wondered what the horizon looked like, what falling over the edge of the world felt like. She crept into the caravan (unsurprised to find her father asleep and snoring) and took some string from the drawer beneath the wardrobe. Piper wrapped it around her hair and tied it up in a rushed plait, wisps escaping the confines of the cord. She was meant to be using ribbon to do her hair but found string a much better counterpart. String was useful. A lot less flashy. Piper attempted to close the drawer, but something had stuck, and she was forced to rearrange its contents. As she did so, her eyes caught on something tucked away in a corner. It was a small, glass bottle, with a label that read: ‘ground peppercorns. Piper reached into the drawer and took the glass bottle from its corner. Then she carefully crept back outside, slipping the peppercorns into her trouser pocket.

*** With the Brittish sun low over the land, Piper and her father sat down for breakfast. She’d re-heated the stew and served it to her and her papa in two china bowls. Piper kept glancing at her father’s bowl every now and then, to see if he’d eaten anything yet. He hadn’t. Instead, he was trying to ask his daughter questions. “How has your morning been, my dear? Did you play any more of those funny games?" Piper seemed to relax in her seat. “I did, actually. First, I was a pirate, then I became one of the Brittish Savages-” The man winced. “And afterwards, I saw a hare - the same one from yesterday, I think – but it got away. Oh, and I spotted a new flower, too. It was yellow, a bit like a daffodil, and small. I’ve

named it the Solis Ortus, after the sunrise, and I picked some for you if you want any. I have samples of it in my book.” Xavier was looking at her funnily, and his eyes were shining. He leant back into his chair and watched the girl closely. “Your mama would have been proud, Piper." he said. “You remind me a lot of her. You and Lillianna are alike in so many ways. She was just as curious as you, just as clever. You have the same eyes, the same hair." he added this with a chuckle: “the same quick tongue. And you've got the same smile, darling. The kind of smile that shines from the lips and transforms the whole face. When your ma smiled, everyone else did, too." Piper never liked it when her father talked of her mother in this way; it was the only time that he showed any emotion. She didn’t like thinking of her father being sad, and it she felt her face going red. “Father, tell me more about the savages.” The girl asked, and Xavier sat up. “Piper, you know I don’t like talking about those awful people.” “But they’re really interesting, and I don’t mind them. They might scare you, but nothing scares me.” “Of course it doesn’t. Well, alright, but only until my stew is cool.” Xavier settled down in his chair. “The Brittish savages were discovered soon after the island itself. They came to Charles with their barbaric ways and tried to attack him, but he was prepared and fought them off. He managed to befriend them eventually, tricking them into believing he was a friend, and they took him to his camp. In that camp, he saw terrible things. He saw rape, he saw cannibalism, he saw worse things than you could imagine. When he came back, he told us all of these terrors and warned us to stay away from them. And it’s why you should stay away from them, too. They are dangerous and I dread to think what they’d do to you if you were caught." Xavier picked up his spoon, not noticing that light was beginning to dance in Piper’s eyes. She suppressed a smile. Xavier looked at the stew and dug it deep into the watery liquid, extracting a voluminous amount, salivating at the thought of a meal, stomach moaning to be fed. But just as he inserted the food into his mouth, muttering a quiet: “delicious stew, my dear.", he saw a glass bottle on the table, labelled: ‘ground peppercorns’. It was empty. Oh, dear. Xavier had the peppery stew in his mouth for mere seconds before spitting it back into the bowl, gagging. Piper threw her head back and howled, making no attempt to help him. She loved playing practical jokes on her papa, and for today’s trick, she had deposited the entire contents of the peppercorn bottle into his stew bowl before giving it to him. Just for fun.

Xavier went over to the window and tipped his breakfast out, hurriedly going to get another helping from the pot outside, all the way shouting at his daughter for ruining his mouth, tongue tanging from the unwelcome flavouring. Piper was content. She rested her tense back and settled into her meal (thankfully absent of pepper or spices). It was rather difficult forcing the mushy liquid down her throat, though of course, it must have been nicer than her father’s. Piper didn’t like having stews for breakfast, but since the meals they had to prepare could only be made from things they’d grown themselves; a stew was the simplest thing to cook. And when it came to Piper, that was important: for she was not a good cook. She had a knack for always forgetting what she was doing, going off to play and leaving the stew in for too long. Today, though, she had remembered to take it out of the pot and serve it on time. Though perhaps she’d only remembered because she’d found a special something to slip into Xavier’s portion. Piper’s father went to work, a glass of water to soothe his frayed taste buds, and the girl had been left to her own devices. Xavier was a cartographer and came on the expedition to map the landscape, a very important job as no-one had charted New Britton before. It took up a lot of the day touching up his rough sketches, making it all to the right scale and illustrating the paper with fancy compasses and animals, and Piper adored looking at his finished work. She thought it looked like something from a storybook. Now Piper had left the caravan and had become a bloodthirsty pirate scourging the Nine Illicit Oceans. She held a long stick in one hand to act as a cut-throat cutlass and had a smaller stick in the other, arm tucked into her shirt sleeve to play as a hook hand. She crept about the prairie, arr-ing and ahoy-ing to the butterflies that flitted dozily passed. During a heated sword fight with the wind, Piper tripped on a tree root and fell to the ground in a heap. She shut her eyes and shook with laughter. Then the winds picked up, and Piper couldn’t resist racing them over the hills. She gazed over the treetops to the mountains beyond and watched the birds fly to the horizon. The sun was just peeping out over the side now, higher and hotter than yesterday, but she’d become used to the unpredictable weather of the prairie. She left the clearing and began running in the grass, leaping and laughing as the breezes spat at her hair. She lifted her broad-rimmed hat onto her head and rummaged about in her shoulder bag until she found a little leather-bound notebook. It was her mother’s once, and although Lillianna had never written in it, Piper loved it with all her heart. She enjoyed imagining her mama choosing it at a shop, taking it home and turning each pearly white page with care. She liked imagining it being owned by someone whom Piper idolised so much and then being passed on to her. Now, Piper used it as a journal, where she had recorded each day since she had arrived in New Britton. She turned to a fresh page, got out a pen and began to write.

Piper Morning, adventurer Day 51 Was a pirate this morning and hijacked some unexpecting sailing ships. Got bored and saved a little boy from the clutches of an evil king. Also found some pepper and put it in Papa’s stew. He seemed a bit irritated, but I wasn’t punished really. Will record more later.

As Piper wrote, the wind picked up again and drew hundreds of pieces of notepaper from her bag. They fluttered above her head like birds, squawking and screeching as they shook violently. Like rag dolls, they were tossed around, made a game by the gusts, and Piper tried in vain to collect them all by jumping up and grabbing at the air. As she was doing so, however, she glanced at the woods way away and spotted something between the forest’s branches, though it disappeared before she had time to decipher what it was. Piper stopped jumping. Two sharp eyes narrowed in suspicion. A slim, pursed mouth, teeth showing with each breath. A pink tongue occasionally emerging to moisten the skin. No, that couldn't be right. Was that a boy’s face watching her from amidst the trees?

2 A Visitor

Piper was too excited to eat. It was evening now, and her father had stopped working and come to dinner. She knew she couldn't tell him anything, though. He probably wouldn’t believe her, anyway, so she thought it would be best if she kept her discovery to herself. She sat and ate in silence, shovelling great spoonfuls of food into her mouth. The girl could tell her father knew something was going on; he kept glancing at is bowl warily and licking his spoon, as he couldn’t deal with the embarrassment of that morning. He was sure that the dreamy look on his daughter’s face was because she had put something even more disgusting in his food. He leant down and looked through his bag, desperate to turn Piper’s concentration from dinner. And that day he had found something that was the perfect distraction. “Here." He brought out his cartography map, dog-eared and stained from the many weeks of use. “I travelled north today and found some old ruins. I think they might be the remnants of a savage’s camp. It’s the only camp we’ve found so far, right out in the open. It’s a wonder no-one had noticed them. Just think – there could be hundreds more out there, just waiting to be discovered." His eyes shone; Xavier Morning loved his job. But for some reason, Piper didn’t seem as excited as usual. Naturally, the girl would have been ecstatic, for she loved hearing about these discoveries, but today was different. The dreamy expression stayed put on her face, and the man knew something was wrong. “Papa, how many savages are there?" Piper asked, trying to sound nonchalant. She stared down at her stew bowl. “We’re not sure. There could be hundreds – thousands, even. We think they’ve made their camps deep within the forests, so as not to be discovered by us. Since we’ve arrived, they’ve tried their best to stay as inconspicuous as possible." “And do you think they live in the forest by our caravan?" “I don’t know. Maybe. Why do you ask? You haven’t..." Xavier trailed off, feeling the blood leave his face. “you haven’t seen one, have you?" “No, of course not. I was just wondering." Piper tried not to look her father in the eye. Xavier nodded his approval. “And on a more important matter: did you get all your schoolwork done?" “Definitely," Piper said. She was lying. She hadn’t done any work since she’d arrived.

“Good, good." Xavier nodded, and finally dared to try his meal. He tentatively opened his mouth and swallowed and was relieved to realise that the stew was fine. Incredibly overcooked, maybe, but better than over-peppered. “Oh, and before I forget,” Xavier searched around in his pocket and brought out a paper envelope, waxed at the edges. “It’s a letter from Ophelia, your Bonemother. The letter came with the last shipment over: Charles gave it to me. I have no idea what’s inside. Perhaps she feels bad for not writing to you in so long.” There was an edge to Xavier’s voice, an edge of resentment. Piper hadn’t spoken to Ophelia Bertrand for years. Ophelia and Lillianna had been good friends, and both given birth in the same year. When Lillianna died, Ophelia offered to feed Piper and take care of her while Xavier was at work. When Piper was only one- and-a-half, Ophelia’s son, Cecil, died of a fever. She was devastated. And then, for some reason, the woman stopped paying visits to the Mornings. Piper tore open the envelope and read what was inside.

Ophelia Bertrand Oak Avenue, Lyre, Britton

Hello, young adventurer! You may not remember me, but I wouldn’t blame you. It’s been a while. I heard you and your father have gone on an exciting expedition – I wish I could’ve come too! How are you? Are you enjoying the hot sun and the clear skies? I’m very jealous. It is quite boring here in Lyre, but it gives me joy to think of you, so happy, over in New Britton. Must end here: letters are charged by the word. Thinking of you! Your loving, Ophelia.

Piper discarded the unemotional letter, and let it flutter to the floor. “What was the shipment for, Papa?” She asked as her father munched his stew. “I don’t know. I heard that Charles Hathoway has found something in the ground, like a stone or a metal, which is unbelievably valuable. There are people from Britton coming over to help dig it all up.” The rest of the meal continued in silence, a silence that now both family members enjoyed. Xavier spent his time thinking about work, and Piper spent her time thinking about the figure. “Right! I’ll be off to bed." Xavier took his bowl and got up from the table. He washed it at the pump outside and got into his pyjamas.

“Do get off to sleep at a reasonable hour, my dear." With a deep yawn, Xavier got into bed and was asleep within minutes. Piper followed soon after and lay awake as her father slumbered. She wondered if the boy she’d seen was a trick of the light, and nothing more.

*** Three days later, the heat was unbearable, and clung to whatever it could get its close claws on. Piper lay limp on the makeshift bed in the caravan, groaning every so often to remind herself of the unshakable warmth, sweating profusely, convinced she was melting away. The sun hung in the air like a parasite, warming even the breezes that tried so hard to clear the muggy air. Xavier slumped at his desk at the other end of the room, touching up his maps of the island. He held a wet cloth to his forehead in an attempt to cool him down, although it didn’t stop his sweat from dripping onto the thick cartography paper. He used some fabric to soak up the perspiration, head spinning with the heat. The prairie outside was too hot even for Piper’s games, and so she lay, fuming at the thought of such boredom. Her eyes lolled loosely to the window of the caravan, and through her blurry eyes, she caught a glimpse of something through the red-tinted glass. It seemed to be a large man wearing a pinstripe blazer. He had slicked-back brown hair, hints of grey growing from the roots, and a tufty handlebar moustache. His pale skin was caked in yellow sun-paste, and it was disgusting: over-applied, shining and oozing down his skin as it melted. On his head was a funny little straw boater hat that matched his blazer exactly. Piper thought he looked like someone out of a pantomime. She knew him well. His name was Dr Charles Hathoway, and he was the head of the N.B.E.A.: the leader of the expedition, and now here he came, riding towards their home on a firefly pony, a letter tucked under the arm. Piper scrambled up from the bed and alerted her father.

Dr Charles Hathoway loved riding. He was one of those gentlemen who would spend hours jumping, running and whipping until he was as tired as the horse and went home. He liked that kind of riding – the leisurely kind of sort – but this kind – the kind which meant riding for over three hours with no rests – had been a positive trial. He was relieved when he spotted the little caravan parked close by. The trial was finally over. The man heaved himself off his horse and knocked smartly on the door, and after a few moments, his friend and fellow member of the association opened it, startled a little by the unexpected arrival. “Well, if it isn’t Xavier Morning!" Said Dr Hathoway, shaking hands with his surprised colleague.

“Charles! You gave me such a fright; we haven’t had visitors since we arrived." “No, of course you haven't." Dr Hathoway replied, peering around the interior of the caravan. He was clearly uninterested in Xavier’s social life. “It’s rather... quaint, isn’t it?" he said, trying to hide his slight disgust. Dr Hathoway pushed past his colleague and gave his coat to the girl that stood in the doorway.

Piper was horrified. Why did she have to take this man’s stupid blazer? Anyway, she couldn’t imagine wearing such clothes as a blazer on a day like today. She supposed she’d never truly understand the fashion choices of rich gentlemen. The girl watched him as he sat his wide frame on the small wooden chair. Her father sat down next to him, and the doctor turned to face Piper. “Well, how is my little adventurer?" His voice came out gratingly patronising. “How is she faring under these harsh conditions?" “She’s well, thank you. She’s been a very good girl these two months." Xavier replied as Charles nodded, sarcasm dripping from every shake of his head. Piper was furious. They were talking about her as if she weren’t there. “Yes, I have." She butted in, planning on speaking for herself. “I’ve had a great time and done lots of work myself." Xavier gave his daughter a look, eyes wide, though Dr Hathoway only laughed. “And how are you getting on adjusting to this new lifestyle, Xavier? It must’ve been a shock to be thrust into such harsher climes. It was for me when I first came here. I bet you’re finally starting to miss your little apartment, eh?" The question hadn’t been directed at Piper, but she answered anyway. “We’re not, actually. Father and I are having a great time and we never want to leave. I can’t even think of going back home anymore." Piper didn’t want to remember her old home in Lute, back on the mainland. It was a high-class city in Britton without much breathing space, and she and her father owned a large flat floor on a street known as Park Avenue. Despite its name, there wasn’t a park to be seen for miles. Nor were there many trees or wildlife to speak of, and Piper hated it. Whenever she breathed in, she could always smell the faint whiff of coal and old man, and it made her want to be sick. As soon as she’d left those sooty boats fifty-four days ago, she’d vowed to herself she would never leave. Not even if her life depended on it. “But anyway," Charles turned to face Piper’s father. “I have come to discuss something very important with you, Xavier." He stared expectantly at Piper, obviously expecting her to leave, but the girl stood her ground. Charles sighed and gestured to the door. “Why don’t you go outside, little one?" His fake smile continued, and Piper wavered. “Run along." Charles wafted her out, and the girl rolled her eyes. She threw Dr Hathoway’s jacket up on the rail, pretending not to

notice when it slumped to the floor, and then left the tiny room. Charles turned back to his colleague. “Not for a lady’s ears." He nodded, looking for a reaction from Piper’s father. But Xavier only frowned, smiling half-heartedly.

As the door shut with the familiar creak, Piper put her ear to the wall. The nut wood of the caravan was so thin she could easily hear the conversation that was happening inside. Not for a lady’s ears? She was disgusted. But Piper was used to such remarks. No matter, she was staying right where she was. The girl had a feeling this was going to be a conversation worth listening in on.

Xavier Morning turned to his employer. “So, Charles," he said “What brings you all these miles?" “Well, I suppose I’ve come for two reasons." The man reached into his shirt pocket and brought out an oddly shaped crystal. “I firstly came to tell you about this." he said. Xavier wasn’t able to tell what colour the crystal was, although he tried his best. He concluded it was either all the colours in the world or none at all, like a glass marble. Xavier reached out to touch it, speechless, but Dr Hathoway snatched it away before he could run his fingers along the ridges of jagged stone. “No, Xavier," he said, popping the small chunk back into his pocket, face smug. “You can’t feel it just now. But I'm sure you'll have plenty like this soon. Maybe even more!" Dr Hathoway's eyes were bright, and he bounced on his seat like an excited child. Xavier was confused, 'What do you mean, Charles?" He asked, leaning in. “I mean, my good friend, that the geology group of the N.B.E.A have been doing a little digging in the prairie and found a small reserve of a very precious stone that goes by the name of Brittish Crystal." Xavier was amazed, “Crystal?" He stammered, not quite believing. “But the last crystal mine was cleaned out over fifty years ago! They'd got it all, mined it right up until there was none left." “Maybe that was the case over in Britton, Xavier, but this is New Britton." Dr Hathoway smiled and sighed happily, looking at his colleague for some kind of acknowledgement. “But Charles, that’s fantastic. Do you think I can have some, when it’s available?”

Dr Hathoway laughed, “Don’t be so greedy," he teased. But then his eyes turned straight to Xavier’s. “And secondly, on a more important topic," He locked the gaze. “I am afraid to tell you, Xavier, that a man has been attacked by one of the savages. It happened yesterday, I believe, and the man who was attacked was Mr Hanford." Charles Hathoway finished his sentence and looked, grimacing, at his colleague. Both men were in silence. Xavier Morning had gone to school with Peter Hanford. They had been closer friends once but were separated and been put to work on different studies. “Is Peter alright?" Xavier Morning's voice was nearly inaudible. “I'm afraid not, Xavier. He was taken into the woods by a female native and hasn't come out." Piper's father could not help noticing that Dr Hathoway didn't look sorry at all. “We’ll try our best to get him out alive." Seeming to want to change the subject, Dr Hathoway brought out a fat notebook and opened it to a page consisting of some sort of chart. He took a pen from his pocket and readied himself for writing. “How is your work coming along?" The man’s eyes bored through Xavier, waiting expectantly. Piper’s father stammered. “I - well, I haven’t-” he coughed. “It’s coming along well enough. I haven’t been able to get as much done as you asked me, but I’m sure I’ll be able to finish it in time." Charles shook his head, sighing dramatically. He put a big black ‘x’ in one of the boxes of the table. “Dearie, dearie me." the man muttered and shut the notebook with a soft snap. “That just won’t do." He put his hands on his knees, leaning in. “And can you tell me why that is?" the man raised an eyebrow as Xavier continued. “I - I suppose the excitement of the trip has distracted me." Charles sighed, and tutted. “Distraction," he sighed again. “Distraction and procrastination: man’s worst enemy." He took Piper’s father by the shoulders. “Tell me, Xavier: why are these things the bane of the good man’s life?" “Procrastination prevents the work from being started, distraction prevents the work from being finished," Xavier mumbled, speaking like a child that had just been told off by their teacher. “Good," Dr Hathoway put the notebook back in his pocket. “Distraction isn’t an option." He stood up. “I need to know I can trust you, Xavier. Cartography is a crucial job when it comes to exploring new lands, especially dangerous lands such as these. Can you promise you won’t become distracted again?" Xavier gulped, subdued. “I promise, Charles." “Good, good. Anyway, I best be off; wouldn’t want to leave my house empty for so long, eh?” The doctor heaved himself up. “Do get on with your work, Xavier.” He remarked before leaving. “I wouldn’t want you to get behind.”

*** The sun had risen to shed light on a new day, and this day was glorious. The heat of yesterday had keeled over and shrivelled up, the only remains of which being the sweat spots on Xavier’s map. Now, the air was chilled again, and the cool breezes swayed to the rhythm of the day. Xavier was woken by another knock on the front door. He got up, rubbed the sleep from his eyes and went to answer it, slightly annoyed. He'd had been having a wonderful dream about the different kinds of parchment paper and had to try very hard to hide his disgruntlement. Whoever was here must be here for a reason. And, as he had expected, he opened the door to find Dr Hathoway – again – waiting behind it. However, what he hadn’t been expecting was to find his daughter in Charles’ right hand. He was holding her by the shirt, and it made Xavier start. “Hello again, Charles. What are you doing?” “I just thought I ought to tell you, Xavier. I came to your caravan this morning to discuss some important matters, naturally, but what did I see when I arrived? I saw your daughter playing outside. Of all things, playing! A great girl of her age! Look at the state of her. Look at those knees! And that hair! Any daughter of mine would be kept inside, Xavier, reading or writing or something like that. Not playing! I assume this was a lack of care on your part, but do not fret: I’m sure it can be rectified with a little discipline.” “I don’t need disciplining!” Piper struggled in Charles’ arms. She was both ashamed and outraged; having been minding her business up until moments ago. What right did this awful man have to handle her like this? Xavier looked equally baffled. “Ah. I see. Well, Piper, you know we’ve talked about this before. You’re not to play any more of your games; you’re far too old to be picturing.” Xavier was understandably uncomfortable. “Anyway, it’s good to see you again. But why are you here? It must have been another tricky journey.” “Oh, no matter. There are things that I must speak to you about.” Charles let go of Piper and sat down on the comfiest chair in the room, leaving Xavier to perch awkwardly on a stool opposite. Charles reached into his sack and took out a slab of rock. No, it wasn’t rock, it was crystal. The same crystal from yesterday. It seemed to glitter in the low light: shining pink, blue, yellow. The slab mesmerised Xavier and his daughter, who were hypnotised by its beauty. “Oh, Charles, it’s beautiful. But that’s a lot more than you showed me yesterday.” Xavier said. “Didn’t I tell you? We’ve found a vein of the stuff under the ground. I’m sure we discussed this yesterday. I’ve got a whole band of men digging it up today, and that’s why I wanted to talk to you. Based on your long-term expertise in business, Xavier, and your new-found hobby in cartography, I was wondering if you wanted to be partners.”

“Partners?” “If you like.” he said, “Let’s say we’ll split it seventy/thirty. You look at your maps and tell us where the crystal is, and I co-ordinate the operations. Then we split the profits. Xavier, you could be rich! What do you say?” “I say yes, Charles! That would be wonderful! But how much would my share be worth?” “It depends, Xavier. It depends on how much there is, of course. And it depends on how many buyers we have back on the mainland. But I’m assuming we’ll have many. This is the first crystal mine in sixty years, would you believe that? We’ll live like kings!" Piper, who had been quietly listening in on the exchange, appeared from behind the door. “And how can I help?" She asked confidently. “Excuse me, child?" “I’m sure I’m capable, and I’ve been learning lots. I know the island better than anyone else on the expedition - I've been exploring so much – and I know I’d be an asset to your team. I’ve collected plant samples: look, I’ll show you. See, here are all the leaves and flowers - I discovered this one only yesterday - and in all these jars I’ve got pickled insects. I’m small and nimble, and barely get tired, so please let me help you because I know I’m more competent than any of the other old men you’ve got." When she looked up, expecting to see the two men applauding, she was astonished to see Charles Hathoway laughing at her. When he laughed, his entire body wobbled, his mouth became round and lip-less and his face turned a watery pink. It reminded Piper of blancmange and it wasn’t very pleasant. “Dear child," he managed to filter through his snorts, “oh, you’re too funny. Never have I ever met such an amusing girl, Xavier." Charles’ laughter died when he realised she wasn’t joking. “Oh. You’re serious." Piper stuck out her chin and crossed her arms. “Is it because I’m a child? Or because I’m a girl?" “Oh, my dear, it’s both. You couldn’t possibly have thought we’d let you be a part of the expedition? It’s far too dangerous for a minor. And anyway, manual labour is a man's work: it’s named after us for a reason." Piper had had enough. She gave Charles an icy glare, muttered something inaudible, put on her coat and stamped out the door, offended. “And is there anything more to talk about, Charles?" Xavier wondered. He was so excited he thought he might burst.

“Just one thing:” Charles shifted his position, leaning closer. “If ever you need a little... help to parent that wild daughter of yours, never be afraid to contact me. I know how tricky being a father is, so don’t hesitate." he stood up and tapped his nose, winking. “See you tomorrow, then.” Charles made for the door, but Xavier stopped him with an outstretched hand. “Tomorrow? You’re coming back tomorrow?” “Of course I am. Now that there’s business to be done, I’ll be visiting every day. You don’t mind, do you?” The man wasn’t looking for an answer; he made again for the door. As he rode away from the caravan, Piper ran up to him and grabbed his coat. “You don’t need to come back.” She told him. “We’ll be fine if you don’t come back. We’ll be relieved if you don’t come back.” The man dug his nails deep into the girl’s fist. “Insolent girl.” He hissed and yanked her off his blazer.

3 Rhaine

Piper had woken up even earlier than yesterday, and stood on the edge of the forest, breathing in the nutty smell that wafted from the tree bark. The night before, she’d had dreams about the two eyes that had stared at her from between the trees. She closed her eyes and focused on the sounds of the forest, listening out for any unnatural noises. But all seemed to be as usual. The girl sighed and went back to her caravan: she didn’t want her father to wake and find breakfast uncooked again. This morning it was potatoes, leeks, and herbs from the windowsill. Piper took the wooden spoon and put all the ingredients in the boiling water, taking care to put them in carefully in case the liquid splashed out and burnt her. The idea of eating such foods for breakfast made her feel a little sick, but she overcame these thoughts by focusing on the boy she’d seen watching her. Would he return? She hoped so. But what if he was dangerous, and tried to murder her? In the end, curiosity triumphed in her mind. She had to find out who the boy was. After about an hour, Xavier Morning emerged from the caravan, blinking and rubbing his eyes. Taking a deep breath of the clear air, he scratched his head. All of a sudden, he got a whiff of charred potatoes, vegetables and seasoning. Xavier ran to the cooking pot and hurriedly brought out the burnt stew, spooning it into wooden bowls as quickly as he could. Hearing the commotion, Piper came around the corner, shouting apologies to her father. Apologies the man had heard many times before. “Sorry, Papa. You know how tricky it is. I got so lost in the view, I must’ve let the stew overcook." Xavier sighed. “Yes. You must’ve." He looked at his daughter. “This happens too often, Piper. You must learn to focus." “But how can I focus when making stew is so boring? It can’t have fun while doing it." “Well, find a way. Be resourceful. You of all girls should know how to be a little resourceful, Piper Morning." “I am resourceful, father. I just don’t like it. I get distracted." Xavier knelt on one knee and looked his daughter straight in the eye. “Remember, dear, what two things are a man’s worst..." He stopped. Thoughts of yesterday popped into his mind, and he realised he should have started work already. “All I’m trying to say is that you have to get into the habit of concentrating if you want to become a successful businesswoman." He ran back inside. Xavier had said if you want to be a successful businesswoman. But he obviously meant

when you want to become a successful businesswoman. According to him, that was the only job worth doing. Not exploring, not adventuring, but sitting hunched over a desk and making small talk. If Piper had to do that every day, she knew she’d go mad with boredom. The girl took the bowls of burnt stew and gave one to her father. They forced the food down as they chatted of the day’s plans. “I’m going south today," Xavier told his daughter. “I need to record a few of the landforms on the coast. I think it’s important that I get ahead of my work." He stood up from his chair and went over to the hat-rack. Taking his coat from the hooks, Xavier gathered together his quills and bundles of parchment paper, slipping on his shoes as he went through the door. “Have a lovely day, my dear." then he left the caravan, muttering to himself and leaving Piper stirring. She waited impatiently for a little less than ten minutes, but after another five she too went to the hat-rack and took down her straw broad-rimmed. Then she put on her black boots and took an apple from the bowl on the wooden table, munching as she left. She crouched low and slowly made her way towards the forest under the cover of the grass. And after what seemed like an eternity, she came to the thin, spiky trees bordering the forest. She stared up at the intimidating trunks. Piper to a deep breath and took her first step into the forbidden forest. Immediately she was encased in darkness which clutched at her skin and hair. All light was banished from her view until all she could see was the silhouettes of her hands. Then her sight came back a little. She peered around. The earth that was the ground was dry and dusty, similar to that of the prairie outside. Each tree that spiralled out from below was crooked and deformed, stretched sinisterly in awful shapes. Although, the bark which clothed the spiky trunks sparkled in a transparent silver. A silver which reflected the moonlight. Moonlight? Piper’s attention was brought to the sky. It looked like evening time, which was strange. Piper was certain it had been the morning when she had entered the forest. Though if that was so, why could she see the moon? Suddenly, a twig snapped behind her. Piper whipped around, neck bristling angrily. She could hear someone breathing. Piper listened. She strained her eyes to look for signs of movement and noticed something was draped on the floor. Something that had been covered in fallen leaves- In a flurry of dried earth, a net made of vine wrapped itself tightly around her limbs and swung her from a tree. The sudden motion sent her tumbling over backwards and left her hanging upside-down. She shouted, screamed, and scrabbled around inside, trying to escape. Her eyes were

pressed uncomfortably against the netting, making her vision blurry, but she could just about see someone step out from behind the trunk of a tree. Piper gasped. She realised with a jolt that she’d accidentally found the person she’d been looking for. "Let me down!" Piper shrieked. She flailed and writhed in the net, biting and scratching at the vine to test if it would break. It didn’t. Piper had never encountered savages before, and she had had been specifically told never to go into the forest to meet them, for fear of dire punishment. One man, Mr Roberts, had entered the forest to try and reason with the savages and hadn’t been seen since. “If you don’t let me down right now, I’ll kill you, Savage!" She tore at the tendrils, desperately trying to find a way out. “If you don’t let me go, I’ll take my dagger and push it deep into your heart. Then I’ll wait until you’re dead and chop you up into little pieces and eat you. I swear I will: let me down!" She started yelling loudly, shrieking at the top of her lungs until all the air had gone. Then she took a deep breath and cried out again. “Let me down, or else!" “Or else what?" The boy spoke at last, stifling a chuckle. “You are helpless. I made the vine myself, so I know you are not getting out. You can scratch as hard as you like, but it will not break. And anyway, I would like to know your name." Piper didn’t stop screaming, though. And despite his words, she was still biting at the material. It was such a strange sight it almost made the boy laugh. He was small, like her, but she could tell he was at least twelve or thirteen. He had long black hair that fell to the nape of his neck in a ponytail, and freckles on his nose. On his waist hung a skirt made of white feathers and he had a piece of crystal hanging around his neck. His eyes were brown – at least, one of them was. The other one was milky white. Both eyes were set intently on the girl’s own. “Listen: if you tell me your name, I will cut you down." The girl must have heard him, for she stopped at once. “I'm not telling you my name. You're a savage, and I know what you’d do. I know all about how you kill your victims: you tie them up, and take their ears and their teeth, and then you eat them. Bit by bit, slowly and painfully, until they’re gone for good. I heard you put the skulls of your victim on your heads like they’re hats. You’re disgusting." The boy did laugh this time. It wasn’t the reaction Piper had been looking for. “What? We do not do that! Most of my tribe hate the sight of human blood." “I know you’re lying, Savage. Don’t try and trick me. I bet you love eating people, otherwise why would you be kidnapping members of the expedition?" The boy seemed startled. “We are not doing that. Do you truly think of us as savages?"

“You live in forests barely wearing any clothes, and tie people up in nets.” Piper said, pulling a face, “It didn’t take long for me to work it out." The boy thought for a moment, then reached into the pouch at his hip. He brought out a handful of golden-brown nuts that looked delicious, and Piper felt her mouth start to water. He approached the net, offering the nuts to the girl as a peace offering. She reached out her foot and kicked his arm away, calling out: “Don’t come near me again or I’ll do much worse." The boy fell to the floor, scattering the nuts everywhere. As he frantically tried to collect them all, Piper saw his cheeks go red; perhaps out of embarrassment, maybe out of anger, she couldn’t tell. His eyes had clouded and lit up with angry lightning. “How dare you," he said, “Do you have no respect? I was only trying to show you I mean no harm. That hurt me, girl. You are no different from your people, and I knew it. You barge into our island and take all that we hold sacred, without apology or acknowledgement, and trap us inside the forests. You must go and tell your father and his stupid group to leave The Hartlands forever." His words came out like an angry river. “They have come into our territory and stopped us hunting in the Flatlands. You-” “Shut up!" Piper said, “What are you talking about?" The boy paused, breathing heavily. “Surely you understand? Your people have repressed us to the point of death! The Hartlands are our home, just as much as they are yours." He breathed in weakly, the river of feeling calming down at last. Piper wasn’t focusing on the sentence, though instead on a strange word hiding amidst it. “The Hartlands?" she said, wondering what it could have meant. “Excuse me?" “You said The Hartlands. What’re they?" the savage seemed surprised, as though she should know the meaning already. “It’s the name of the island. What do you call it?" Piper paused, “New Britton," she said, and stared at the boy. Why did he call it anything different? “New Britton," The boy repeated as if tasting a dish. “New Britton?" He spat out the word, clearly not very happy. “Why is it new?" “Because there's another Britton, over on the mainland." she said. The boy shook his head, “Anyway, that does not matter.” He seemed angry at himself for getting distracted. “I asked what your name was." “Did you not hear me? I’m not telling you." They both were silent for a while until the boy shut his eyes and spoke. “In that case, I will tell you mine — it is Rhaine." he said, voice barely a whisper.

Piper stared down at her hands and paused. She rolled her eyes. “My name’s Piper." The girl said eventually, and the savage breathed a sigh of relief. He relaxed fully. “Thank you, Piper," Rhaine’s eyes had cleared, but there stayed an uncomfortable tension tucked behind his pupils. It looked almost as though he’d known Piper’s name all along. But that was stupid. “It must be hard for you to trust a savage." The boy put a little too much emphasis on that last word, as if he was being sarcastic, for all he kept a straight face. “Okay then, let me down now," Piper said, looking at the boy with stone eyes. “I've told you my name. Let me go." “Not yet," The boy said, “First I must ask you something." Rhaine stared straight at her. A bit like an eagle, she thought, watching its prey. “When the moon outside this forest reaches its peak tonight, meet me here. I will leave this net up so you can find the right spot." Then the boy sliced the net open with a knife strapped around his waist. Then he turned, stepping out into the thicker trees before he was swallowed up by darkness. Piper sat up. Having fallen straight from a high net, she was hurting in many places. She strained her eyes to check if she could see the boy any longer, but she could not. The girl stood up and rummaged around in her shoulder bag. She took out her mother’s notebook, opened it up on a blank page and began to write.

Piper Morning, adventurer New Britton – The Mountain Forest Day 55 Just been captured by a savage in the Mountain Forest. I think it has a camp deep in the woods somewhere, hidden well. Before releasing me, it told me to come back in one day. I will do as it says but stay on the lookout for any cannibalistic attempts when I get there tomorrow night.

4 Piper’s Promise

When Xavier Morning returned, Piper tried her best to pretend she had not done anything exciting at all. “Did you get your schoolwork done?" He asked, flicking through the big leather-bound book of mathematics and translations. Piper had to complete them all to make up for her time away from the academy. “No. But I will." Her father sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “What did I tell you about concentrating?" Piper wasn’t listening. He took her by the shoulders. “My dear, if I am to be allowed to keep you here with me instead of boarding over in some dusty school, you need to prove to the committee that you are still working. Which is why this book needs to be completed. Do you understand?" His daughter shrugged, and reluctantly went over to the desk and selected a pen from the pot, opening the book at a random page. She began to do the algebra, scrawling her workings out all over the paper. The man absent-mindedly patted her head, mumbling something to her, though she couldn’t hear what. He had dark circles under his eyes and collapsed on the bed. “I think I might take a little nap, dear. Please do wake me if you need anything." Piper nodded her acknowledgement, and her father was snoring within moments. She worked for two minutes longer, concentration plastered over her excitement, then she put down her pen and snuck outside to play for a few hours. As soon as night fell, Piper went inside, got dressed into her night-clothes and slid under the covers where her father was sleeping. Although Piper had routinely prepared herself for sleep, that was the last thing she planned to be doing tonight. She wanted to stay awake till midnight, just so she didn’t accidentally drift off. She had to make sure she met with the savage again. She was content that her mind would be able to keep her up. But with each passing moment, she found her eyes became heavier and her thoughts became fuzzier. The comforting sound of the prairie crickets outside gently lulled her deeper and deeper into the same familiar, warm feeling that dreams brought. She vowed to herself she could not close her eyes, not until after the meeting. But she was finding it so difficult…

***

Piper woke with a start. She had heard something in the dark. Not a forest eagle and neither was it the firefly ponies. This sound was different. The girl shuffled over the bed and looked at her father, still sleeping peacefully. She told herself she would be back within the hour; he wouldn’t even notice she was gone. So slowly, carefully, Piper eased on her coat and boots. Her ears pricked at the silence. She peered around the edge of the door. The moon was at its highest now, casting a glowing silver light over the forest. The mountains glistened as if covered in snow of diamond, and the grass stood still with occasional rustles - a product of the night-time breeze. Piper made her way through the grass slowly. She listened out for any signs of a human but was unsuccessful in and soon came to the foot of the forest once more. The girl closed her eyes and stepped across the tree-bound border. Like earlier, she was enveloped in pitch-black, and her eyes took a while to adjust. She looked about for the shape of the net that had caught her and spotted it close to where she was standing. Piper also noticed the small shape of a boy next to it. Rhaine. "I thought you would not come." He called. "I got so impatient I came up to your caravan to check you were not dead, but through the window, I saw your father sleeping and turned back. I could not risk being caught." "Good. If my father had seen you, you would have been a goner, Savage." Piper said. "And you’ll also be a goner if you do anything to hurt me." "You don’t need to worry about that; I wish only for us to make an arrangement. I suppose you are wondering why I wanted you to come back tonight." Piper nodded. Truth be told, she had been confused as to why this barbarian had wanted to meet with her for a second time. She was certain that last time they had talked he had made it no secret that he disliked her. "Well, I suppose it is simple. I would like to propose a deal." The boy stuck out his hand for the girl to take. It was trembling slightly. "I would like you to convince your father to leave The Hartlands-" "New Britton." Piper corrected, and Rhaine hesitated. "Yes. New Britton. I tried to ask you about this yesterday, but I think you were a little too het-up. For too many weeks my people have had to stay in hiding. We live in fear of your barbaric expedition discovering our camps. I would like you to tell your father and the rest of your organism to pack up their contraptions, and their weapons, and their violence and leave the island alone." Piper giggled weakly. "What are you talking about? They’re not organisms! Do you mean organisations? Organisms are completely different." Rhaine’s eyes bored into Piper’s, white turning steely grey. "I think you are deliberately avoiding the question." he said calmly, and Piper folded her arms once more. "Fine. If I do take you up on this deal,

what do I get in return?" "What do you want?" A smirk spread across the girl’s lips. Her brown eyes sparkled in anticipation. "I want you to show me the island." It was a bold question for her to ask, and Rhaine became increasingly fearful. "What do you mean?" Her inquired, worry lines forming at his forehead. Piper shrugged nonchalantly. "I want you to take me up every hill and into every lake. To show me how to make the feather skirt you wear around your waist, and to tell me the name of the crystal around your neck." A greedy twinkle was birthed in Piper’s eye. Electric danced at her fingertips. "I want you to introduce me to all the savages you know and give me their names. I want you to teach me the shape of every plant, the name of every animal and the look of the prints they leave in the mud. I want you to lead me through the Mountain forest so many times that I know how to do it myself. Tell me about the sunrises, about the type of salt in the water, the sounds of the birds. By the end of it all, I want to be as intimate with New Britton as you are." Piper finished with a breath. "Do you understand?" she was pleased with her terms. "And if you do, I will try my best to get my father and the expedition to leave the island alone." Rhaine looked thoughtful. But that surprised wonderment quickly turned to frustration. "What are you talking about? I cannot do that! You could hurt my tribe!" The girl shrugged. "Then there’s no deal, is there?" She turned to leave, deliberately walking slower as to lead the boy on. And, as she had hoped, only five seconds had passed before he put a hand on her shoulder. "Wait." He seemed to be torn between whether he should or should not take this stubborn girl up on her offer. Time seemed to slow between them as he made his decision. But after many painful moments, he gave Piper an answer. "Fine. It is a deal." The darkness which had once taken over her eyes became light once more. "Brilliant! So, where do you recommend we go first?" the girl was ecstatic. "Now? You want to start now?" Rhaine yawned. "But it is the middle of the night! Why can we not begin in the morning?" Piper rolled her eyes. "Because that’s when my father’s awake. He’d notice I was gone.” "Fine." Came a whistle through tight teeth. "But let us sleep on it first. Meet me back here again tomorrow evening."

The pioneer nodded, malice melting from her lips. "Great! I’ll be there."

5 The Winged Wolf

Piper woke the following dawn full of excitement. She spent the entire day terrified that last night was simply a dream and was unable to do any of her schoolwork. Neither could she play any of her imaginary games, which had been a shock. Her father was a little worried for his daughter, having been watching her through the caravan window. He had never seen her so inactive. The day itself (which was a Monday) was bland and uninteresting. Xavier went to work at his desk and stayed there until well into the evening, and Piper spent the day idly drifting between thoughts of wishes and planning what she would like to see on the island. The idea of exploring New Britton with an experienced tour guide made her dizzy with excitement. Maybe the plants interested her the most? Or the creatures? Or the locals? Her side of the bargain could wait until after she was satisfied. Evening had come by the time that Xavier finally got up from his desk and considered making his way to bed. With a yawn, he trudged outside and saw his daughter in the same spot she had been in all day. "Good evening, my dear." "Good evening, Papa." The girl replied, glancing at Xavier’s wristwatch. Twenty-five past eight. Nine o’clock was coming fast. She sat and waited in silence as her papa went inside and got into his pyjamas, readying himself for sleep. Xavier always went to bed early, meaning that usually Piper was alone for a while before she got tired, too - a slightly boring part of the evening. Tonight, this irritating trait of her papa’s was working in her favour. She bid her father goodnight and went out into the prairie, making sure she could hear the gentle snoring coming from the caravan all the way. It didn’t take long for Piper to find Rhaine, for he was waiting in the same spot as last night. She bounded up to him like a puppy, energy fizzing with each enthusiastic step. "Hello, Savage." She grinned. Rhaine attempted a weak smile, although it died on that last word. "Hello," he muttered. Piper did not seem to notice his new, half-hearted expression, and continued. "I think I’ve decided what I’d like you to show me." she said, and Rhaine took a step backwards, seeming fearful. "I see."

Piper took a breath. "I want to go into the forest! I bet you know it well." Rhaine glanced around at the dark canopies of leaves and twisted trees and grimaced to himself as if he and nature were unwanted siblings. "Too well." came a small whisper. "Perfect! That way, I know I won’t die because you’ll be there." Piper stopped talking as she saw Rhaine shaking his head. "No." The boy mumbled. "I cannot, sorry." His voice turned hard as he tried to show the pioneer that he was not going to be pushed around. "Why?" Piper was offended. "Because that is where I live! Who knows what you will do if you know where to attack us?" Piper didn’t have any other ideas and thinking of something under such short notice was a tricky task. "I think I’d like to see the animals first, then. The ones that live in the prairie. I’d like to know what they’re called." Rhaine nodded, seeming satisfied at last. "Good. I know the perfect place to see some." The two children left the forest and set off into the night. For a while, they walked in silence, before Rhaine gestured for them to stop. "Look," he said. They stood low in the prairie, breathing muted to that of faint whispers. "Watch that grass over there; it will come out soon," he said. Piper noticed that both anticipation and fear had merged on his tongue. "What will?" "Just wait." And so, they waited. The landscape stood as still as the children enveloped in it, frozen by the apathetic moonlight. There wasn’t a sound to be heard other than the rhythmic thrumming of Piper’s heart, not a sight other than the mist that came with each slow breath. When, from out of the undergrowth, came a shadow. It must have been another animal, silhouetted in the black. It was lean, with sinewy skin pulled taught against muscled limbs. Its jaws hung open, showing rows of sharp teeth. With a stifled gasp, Piper realised what it was. A wolf! But it wasn’t a wolf. No, it could not have been. Wolves didn’t have... Wings. Piper watched in awe as the creature appeared.

It prowled around the clearing and then settled down to rest, licking its lips. As time went on, the wolf’s eyes became heavier, until it lay completely still, slight snores escaping from its wet nose. "Is it sleeping?" Piper eventually whispered. "Yes; it will not wake until morning." Tranquillity fell like a blanket across the two children, as they watched the slumbering creature with cool breath. "I’ve never seen anything like it." Piper breathed, "A wolf with wings? It’s a scientific miracle! And as far as I know, it hasn’t been documented by the expedition yet. Do you know what that means, Savage? It means that I, Piper Morning, am the first person ever to see one of these animals. Except - of course – you, but you don’t count. Maybe I’ll get to name it! The Canis Piperis, perhaps." Piper’s brain was buzzing. She etched the shape of the wolf into her memory, in case she forgot what it looked like. She looked into her shoulder bag to bring out her notebook and began to draw the creature, sleeping so peacefully. Ignoring Rhaine’s hurried whispers for her to stop, Piper got up and approached the creature. She then took out some scissors, opening them slowly, and tried to snip some of the fur from off it’s back. In a flurry of shouting and scrambling, the wolf woke up. It caught sight of the girl standing just inches away, yelped once, and batted its wings. In an instant, it had propelled itself from the ground and now was flapping loudly above their heads. Piper yelled, suddenly remembering that wolves were carnivores. Rhaine pushed Piper aside and scrambled up. "No! Come back! I had worked so hard to track her!" He seemed crushed. "Why did you wake her up?" "I didn’t mean to!" The girl retorted. "You and your kind always ruin everything!" Spittle flew from his mouth and fizzled on Piper’s face. “You’re just bitter because that stupid wolf flew away.” She shouted. “It wasn’t my fault. And the expedition isn’t a kind, either!" Piper pushed Rhaine hard in the chest. "Neither am I," he said, “I am not a savage, even though you keep calling me one." The girl sneered cruelly. "Well, I won’t stop. Shouldn’t I call you what you are?" "I do not want to argue with you," Rhaine muttered, "but if anything, it is you are the barbaric ones. You have starved my people and stolen our land, and we have been left with nothing." Piper scoffed again. "No! We just… split it. You have the forests; we have the prairies."

The boy shook his head. "Have you ever seen the herds of wild star-ponies?" He asked, and Piper was confused. "Do you mean the firefly ponies? Their fur lights up during the night." The savage sighed. "If that is what you call them." He muttered. "But no matter: have you seen them before?" "Of course I have," replied the girl. "We ride on them to cross the prairies quicker." Rhaine nodded. "Before you arrived, the star – the firefly ponies were what we ate the most. Their numbers were great, so there was no worry of hunting to extinction. And their meat was delicious and provided us with the perfect nutrition." Rhaine's hand went to his stomach as if remembering the scrumptious meals. "We would use their pelt to make our clothes in winter, and their manes would be made into hats to keep our heads warm. But then your ships docked, and we had to flee the Flatlands, ripping away our staple. All we had left to eat were the plants that grew around our camp and the rodents that lived in the forest. We all started to starve, for there was not enough for us all." He finished and looked eagerly for some kind of reaction from the girl. Yet Piper stayed valiantly disinterested. "Why didn’t you just continue hunting in the prairies? We wouldn't have stopped you." She sniffed, but Rhaine’s face grew cold. He swallowed before speaking. "We tried," Rhaine croaked, "but whenever we did, you would attack us. Guns, knives, spears, anything – you would drive us back into the forest, not caring if you hurt us." Piper shook her head, shocked. "That's not true. The N.B.E.A wouldn't attack you. Not if you weren’t hurting them. No, we were told to stay away from you, that's all. Not injure you." But it was too late for reasoning. Rhaine’s anger seemed to be bubbling up, spilling over his tongue. It didn’t seem as if he could control his words. "And you would not just injure us, either, oh, no. You would not stop to kill. you would shoot arrows at us from across the hills. Even if we were not doing anything. When some of us stumbled trying to run back to the forest, you would ride up to them on their ponies and slaughter them. Even though they were running away!" Several tears escaped the boy’s eyes, and it truly looked as if he was about to start sobbing. His whole body shook with a mixture of anger and sadness. Piper couldn't believe it, wouldn't believe it. Not the association? She grabbed hold of Rhaine's necklace and dragged him close. So close he was right next to her face. "You think that would have fooled me?" She hissed. "I know you’re lying. The association wouldn't do that."

The boy was silent, staring at her intently, and then suddenly, quick as lightning, he elbowed her in the stomach. Piper reeled back, much to the boy’s satisfaction, but she quickly composed herself and used both hands to pull sharply at Rhaine's head of thick black hair. He cried out in pain. With clenched teeth he hit the arms away, chopping at them with tensed hands. Piper wasn’t discouraged, though, and aimed an accurate punch towards Rhaine’s nose. The fist made contact; however little damage was done – other than a loud yell from the boy. He stepped backwards, holding onto the affected part of his face, eyes watering in pain. "You are monsters!" He screamed, and flew at Piper, bloody nose beginning to turn crimson. The boy impacted with force, and the two went tumbling to the ground, kicking and scratching at each other's faces. This went on for some time and probably wouldn't have stopped until one of Piper's mucky fingers connected with Rhaine's necklace. In the heat of the moment, she grabbed hold of the string and pulled as hard as she could, snapping it clean off. The string flew through the air before landing in a pile on the earth. The crystal that once hung from it came loose and shattered in two pieces on the earth. Rhaine was silent, eyes fixed on the shards. Slowly, he shifted his weight and stood up, leaving Piper lying on the ground. The boy crept over to the broken necklace and picked up its tattered pieces. Piper stuttered, "I- I'm sorry-" she began, but Rhaine had already got back to his feet and was threading one of the shards of crystal back through the string. "It is fine," he whispered and picked up the other shard. "I didn’t mean to break it. I wasn’t thinking," Rhaine gave Piper a piercing look. One that could have melted ice. "Honestly, it does not matter." He tied the string back around his neck and brushed himself off. The other shard he clutched to his chest. He squatted silently on the ground, fingering the broken shards. Piper could tell Rhaine was upset and felt a little sorry for him. She tried her best to make him feel better. "I listened in on one of my father’s conversations with his boss," she said, "his name is Dr Hathoway. And they were saying how they have just found a vein of lots of Brittish crystal, just like the one on your necklace. When I get home, I can give you some." Rhaine's head whipped around. He wiped the tears from his eyes. "You have found more of the magic crystal?" He seemed surprised, yet there was also an element of disbelief in his face. Piper nodded. "Dr Hathoway didn’t say where, but I can ask Father when we get back." Rhaine put himself back together, suppressing weary anger. "Maybe next time." He

rubbed his eyes. "I am tired, and I want to go to sleep." "Okay. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, then." He did not turn around to reply.

6 Two Stolen Necklaces

The morning after, when Charles arrived, blueprints and parchments under his arms, he saw Xavier and his daughter waiting for him by the door. The man bid good morning to his colleague, and they took the picnic blanket outside to lay on the grass. “Vitamin D always helps the brain stay focused,” Charles told the girl, who pretended not to be listening. They went outside and set to work. "We think there might be some crystal here, Xavier because our detectors sensed some. But, as I said, we are still unable to differentiate Brittish Crystal from plain granite stone – you know how machines are: always getting confused.” “In that case, there should also be some crystal down under this hill. Do you say the vein runs thirty metres south-east? Then you should also be able to find some here and here. But don’t dig too deep, because there’s a cavern not far down which you wouldn’t want to fall in to.” With a pen in his hand, Xavier drew three black rings around points on the map, and Piper wanted to cry out to stop him. He’d just scribbled over her favourite drawing of Xavier’s: a little wax-bird pecking at some feed. She felt her heart sink. By the time the two men were satisfied, it was already late evening. “Oh, and before I forget:” Charles brought out two ribbons from his blazer, each with a chip of stone swinging from it. “I managed to pilfer some crystal from our head geologist, Professor Smith. I don’t think he noticed, so I had it specially cut and hung for you two. Aren’t they beautiful, Piper? I’ve got the ribbon in a pretty pink for you, my dear. Just the right colour for a lady.” He handed her the pendant smugly and Piper took it without a word, stuffing it in her pocket as soon as it had entered her palm. She vowed to herself never to put it on; a gift from Charles Hathoway wasn’t worth wearing. “I don’t want your present.” She mumbled, and Charles scowled. “Well, I don’t want an ungrateful little girl. Put the pendant on.” Piper looked up at him and didn’t move. She stuffed the pendant deeper into her pocket. “Put the pendant on, you spoilt child.” Dr Hathoway looked at the girl in front of him and seemed very tempted to slap her. “Charles, they’re wonderful, thank you.” Xavier butted in. He expertly diverted the conversation and put his pendant on without saying a word.

“I thought you’d like them. Just don’t tell anyone, because technically you should’ve paid for them.” “We won’t, Charles. It was so thoughtful of you - are you truly sure we can have them?” “Of course! And anyway, partners should always have the first dibs.” Charles put his hand down his shirt and pulled out an identical ribbon, with an identical chip of crystal hanging from it. “But I best be off. See you tomorrow, Xavier.” Piper didn’t say goodbye, instead, she kept silent and stayed in the corner. She watched the man walk off into the hills, and wondered what she’d do with her pendant, seeing as she wouldn’t wear it. She pulled it out of her pocket and examined its ridges. How interesting it looked, so smooth yet so sharp. And it looked like her father was doing the same: he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the crystal, watching it un-blinkingly until Piper called to him. He seemed truly spellbound. “What a kind man,” Xavier thought out loud, and Piper scoffed. “I know you might not like him, but he’s given me the opportunity of a lifetime. Please just be polite until then.” His daughter didn’t say anything but stretched out her hand. “Can I look at it?” She asked, and Xavier reluctantly handed the pendant over. Piper began idly swinging the chip from its ribbon, much to her father’s terror. “Be careful!” Unfortunately, the girl wasn’t careful enough, and the ribbon slipped off her finger. It swung to the ceiling, ricocheted off the glossed wood, and broke in half on the floor. Muttering to himself angrily, Xavier picked up the broken pieces and thrust them at his daughter. “Look what you’ve done, Piper. I told you to be careful.” “Sorry.” The girl muttered half-heartedly. Seeing the broken crystal made her recall her argument with Rhaine the other night, and suddenly she knew how she was going to make it up to him. “Aren’t you going to wear yours, now you’ve spoiled mine?” Xavier asked before going to bed. “No, Father,” Piper replied, “but someone else will.”

7 Magical Syrup

"And which one is this?" They stood alone in a grove of trees, just bordering the Forest of Endless Night. The honey-like air was soft and sweet, infused with the unmistakable tang of night, and Piper felt calm. It was dark, and clumps of fireflies caused spills of light between the trunks. In front of them, beyond the grove, lay the endless fields, and behind them, the unknown. "That is the spotted red vine. It is incredibly poisonous, so do not touch." Piper put her outstretched hand back in her pocket and fiddled with a loose ivy leaf. She accidentally pulled it off its stalk, and it fluttered forlornly to her feet. "Is this it?" The girl asked, mildly disappointed. "Is this everything I am showing you; you mean?" Piper nodded. She dropped to the ground and began gathering the dust that crumbled from the dry earth in piles. As each pile came together, she blew it apart with a puff of her cheeks. "Yes, this is everything I am showing you. The forest is too dangerous to take you inside, as I have said, so can you please stop asking?" "And what’s this one?" Piper touched the dry plant and it crumbled under the light weight of her finger. "That is dead." She brushed the crusty fragments of plant corpse away, slightly disgusted. And as she did so her eyes were drawn to the little silhouette of her caravan in the distance. She wondered if her father knew she was gone. She wondered if he even cared at all.

*** The night after, the air had a different taste. Peppery, maybe. Spicy, definitely. It smelt almost like the cinnamon that she would have on biscuits back on the mainland. The way they would melt on the tongue and give her that refreshing hit of autumnal spice which she would chew euphorically. It made her feel slightly nostalgic for the luxuries that she had left behind. But Britton didn’t have views like these, didn’t have freshwater streams, or wildlife that wasn’t surrounded in cages. She decided it was worth giving up those cinnamon biscuits for a place like this. She stepped down onto the dry, flat grass -

And fell. Her foot had somehow caught on the wooden doorframe, and she flew to the ground with an almighty thud. The pain that raced up her twisted ankle was numbed slightly by adrenaline but made her cry out even so. Every muscle in her body tensed as she writhed on the grass, face screwed, moaning loudly. She reached down to her frayed muscles and massaged the deep red mark that was forming around her shin. Many minutes passed, and Piper lay in silence, waiting for the pain to lessen. She looked down nervously and saw her foot had been knocked askew. Is it broken? She thought in a panic, but she was able to twist her leg left and right well enough. Slowly, she heaved herself off the earth. Sweat traced its way down her forehead as she tried her best to stand. Unfortunately, she was unsuccessful and flopped to the floor once again. As she lay in her heap, Piper wondered how long she would have to wait before someone came to get her. Maybe no-one, she thought, and she would have to stay here until morning. Thoughts of calling out to her father crossed her mind, but Piper put them aside with a shake of her head. She dreaded to think of what kind of questions she would be asked if her father was woken in the middle of the night by his daughter, who was lying - spread-eagled - outside the door. But then what? It was not like Rhaine was about to appear, hero-like, from out of the shadows. Unless that figure over there was... Rhaine! “Hey! Hey, Savage!" Piper called enthusiastically. She began wildly waving her hands as she dragged herself arms-first across the ground to the approaching shape. When the boy finally got close enough for Piper to see his face, she noticed he had a slightly demeaning expression of fake pity. “Oh, dear. I saw you trip and fall. Did you twist your ankle? Because unless you did it unnecessarily dramatically, you will be fine. Twisted ankles can be walked off easily." He reached down to help Piper up, but she was too weak to support her weight and had to try incredibly hard not to cry. “Do you think I’ve broken it?" If she had, Piper’s days of exploration were over. Her midnight tours, and imaginary games, and everything else that she loved the most. If she had to hop around in a Xavier-made cast for months, she knew she would go mad with boredom. “No, I do not think so. You might have sprained it, though. Just wait for the pain to die down a little and then I will heal it for you." "You’ll what?" The idea was so absurd it made Piper burst into a fit of chuckles, despite her morbid situation. "I doubt you’ll be able to help me. You haven’t even got a first-aid box with you. What are you going to do – magic my leg better?" Piper managed to force her voice out through the thick wall of snorts and gurgles. "In a way, yes, I suppose so. I have some Ambihoch in my bag that I can give you, and that should help." Rhaine seemed to notice Piper’s look of absolute bewilderment. He

rummaged about in the pouch strapped around his waist and brought out a soft, dry leaf. It was dull grey, and Piper was enchanted by how it looked as if it were glowing. "Ambihoch has acute healing properties, and if I grind it up and mix it with some of the river water, it should make your leg better in no time." Piper was still very doubtful that whatever primitive medicine the boy was about to give her was going to work, but her curiosity won over pride – as it often did – and she willingly let Rhaine guide her back to the clearing where they were the day before. She watched him as he pulled out one or two more white leaves and lay them neatly on the earth. Then, he took a bowl from inside his bag – smooth and wooden – and put all the leaves inside it. After extracting a small slab of granite stone, Rhaine started work on mashing the leaves into a pulp. He worked quickly, never stopping to talk, and did not rest until he was done. After all that was left in the bowl being a mushy white paste, Rhaine went down to the river and mixed with it five drops of river water. He mixed it as he walked back. By the time the medicine was complete, it had turned bright gold and looked thick and luxurious. Rhaine took his forefinger, dipped it in the bowl and brought it out dripping with it. He offered the paste to Piper, who did the same. “No more, no less," Rhaine mumbled, as he inserted the finger into his mouth and sucked. Piper copied him, and no sooner had she swallowed she felt the coldness of the night rush away from her. The moon turned brighter, the stars lighter and suddenly she felt warm. It was as if someone had covered the prairie in a thick blanket. All of Piper’s fears melted away, deep within the confines of her rational thinking, and she realised that, if she were gentle, she could move her leg again. Slowly at first, but the warmth inside her seemed to be egging her on, encouraging her to bend and twist and stretch and wriggle. "How did you do that?" Was all the praise the girl could muster; she was speechless. Rhaine shrugged. "The medicine? Oh, it is easy: I am my tribe’s healer. Well, my mother is, really, I am just her apprentice. But one day I will be, I am sure of it. I just have to know how to make all the medicine, otherwise, I will not be allowed. I have been learning since I was three, and Mother has taught me well. She knows everything about healing. I suppose I am quite lucky in that sense." "What’s your mother like?" Now it was Rhaine’s turn to look bewildered. He had not been expecting such a direct question. "My mother? She is nice. Her name is Esther. She is training me to take over her position when she retires, though that will not be for a while. Why did you want to know?" "My mother died when I was a baby." Again, Rhaine looked baffled, although not completely disinterested. "How?" "She died at sea while she was exploring. I bet your mama doesn’t explore. Mine did.

She documented marine life off the coast. And then, one day, there was a storm and her ship was taken down." "Really? That is fascinating. That is not what-" Rhaine stopped mid-sentence. His cheeks flushed, his eyes fluttered, and he shuffled uncomfortably. When he spoke next, he had to tame his tone from flying up and down and making his voice wobble. "So, what was it you wanted to see tonight?" “Tonight, I want to see the stars. They’re so beautiful.” Rhaine helped her up and led her down the hill to a patch of grass that was flattened by a hare. “Grasshares like making their nests amidst the blades,” The boy explained. “I know. I’ve been studying them.” Piper replied, proud to finally know as much as her tour guide. They eased themselves down and lay on their backs in the grass, huddled under the stars. "I shall start with our most famous constellation,” Rhaine began, “which is that on up there. It is Tessa," He pointed upwards, and Piper saw a cluster of bright pinpricks piercing the sky. They twinkled determinedly. "She is sharpening her sword, the one which the Island Spirt gave her. She is preparing for the battle that killed her." The girl imagined a huge, giant-like woman, way up in space. She sat on a stool, working away at her weapon, blissfully unaware that her skin was made of molten gas and her hair of condensed elements. Piper felt sorry for her. "After the fatal blow, Tessa’s soul was turned into a tree that produced magical fruit." "Oh. How fascinating." Piper thought the story was a nice idea, maybe, but she’d grown up being taught that there were no deities and that constellations were just patterns that stars made. She wondered if Rhaine knew that constellations weren’t giant warriors and was about to ask him. But then another thought entered her head. "My mother loved stars." She was shocked at her own words; the girl had not expected to say it aloud. "It was her second favourite thing to study, after biology. Most nights she would spend hours with her telescope on the balcony, looking at the planets. That’s what father told me, anyway. I still have the book of all the stars that she recorded. Father would read it to me when I was little, and then tell me stories of when she was alive. He missed her so much." "It sounds like Lillianna and your father truly loved each other."

"They did. It’s why he’s never re-married: he says Mama was truly his soulmate. When I was little, he gave me a picture of her in a frame, and he told me to talk to her whenever I worried. Sometimes I look at it and wonder what she would say to me if we met again. You’re not supposed to miss someone you don’t remember, but I can’t seem to help it." The children were still. All that lay between them was a thin sheet of warm summer wind. But suddenly, Piper tensed. "Rhaine?" She asked into the night. "Rhaine, how did you know her name?" The boy didn’t seem to hear her. "Oh look! It is the Great Bear, Ersa." "Where?" "Just above us, up there." "I still can’t see it... oh! There it is. That’s not a bear, is it?" Rhaine turned to her, "What do you mean?" "It’s just a circle of stars – if you want a bear, go to a zoo." Rhaine’s eyes screwed closed. "If you like." "And what’s that bright star next to it?" "That one is the Southern Beacon. The story goes: there was once a man who planted a seed one summer afternoon. That seed grew into a tree, which was taller than any other. People came to marvel at this fantastic creation, with its thick trunk and leaves as large as a child’s head. And the man decided to build his house in that tree, and many came to visit him and his wonderful home. "But many four-seasons went by, and the tree did not stop growing. Until, at last, it scraped the sky. The man, who had not left the treehouse in all that time, looked out of the window and saw he was stuck. He lit a lantern so that people would know he was up there and send help, but no-one ever came. The lantern still burns to this day." "And where’s the tree?" Rhaine looked at the girl as if she were simple. "It died. No tree lives that long." "But how can the lantern still be there, if the tree died?" "Because it is a story," Rhaine elbowed the girl’s chest, and Piper cried out. "Ow! That hurt!"

"Then be quiet; I am tired of you disrespecting my culture." "I was just curious," Piper mumbled, but Rhaine did not reply. Instead, he heaved himself up from the ground and patted the earth off his skirt. "I would say that is enough for one night. I will see you again tomorrow." "Why? I wasn’t finished!" "Well, I am, Boat-girl. But do you care about if I am? No, you do not. Because do you know what? You have not shown me any kindness since we made that deal, and I have done nothing but been polite and put up with your fighting and shouting and offensive names: not once arguing back. So please just show me some respect for once and let me have my way!" His tone of voice was a surprise to the girl. He had never spoken to her like this before and it shocked her into silence. For a while, she lay on the floor, speechless, with neither of them saying anything to each other, and it made her uncomfortable. For the first time in a while, she suddenly realised how unsafe she felt. Here she was, stranded in the prairie in the middle of the night with a sprained ankle. And there was a boy whom she did not know, nor like, standing right there, shouting at her. All she could do was laugh. "I’m sorry you haven’t got your way, but you don’t need to have a tantrum about it. I’ve been treating you really nicely.” “Have you? Well, it would be nice for you to say my name for once, instead of calling me Savage.” “But that’s what you are!” Rhaine took one long, forced breath. “Bastian was right:” He muttered, “you’re no different from the rest of them.” “Who’s that?” Piper called out to the boy, but he was gone.

8 Xavier Travels

“I'm going to the coast today, my dear." Came the casual voice of Xavier at breakfast a few days later. Wiping the sleep from his eyes he tucked into the one-hundred-and- seventy-seventh stew since their arrival: undercooked rabbit and mushroom. Again. “Alright, Papa. Have a lovely time." Piper said distantly. She wasn't listening. She was reading a really good book about an evil queen who was a witch and turned all her subjects to- “I'll be gone for three days, Piper." “What?" The girl looked up at her father, concentrating properly now. “Three days?" “I know. I don't like travelling that far, either. But I've already mapped out all the landscape around our area; it's my only choice, and I know you're responsible enough to be alone for a few days. It's a difficult thing, a child of your age being left behind, without a chaperone, but I promise I'll be back as soon as I-” “Can I to postpone my schoolwork until you return? I promise I won’t get behind." “Yes, I don't see why not." “Thank you, Father." Piper had gone back to her reading already. Xavier huffed away to the other end of the caravan. The day continued similar to the morning: uneventful and not altogether worth the effort. Piper sat around fiddling with some string for half the afternoon as her father continued to prepare for his long trip away. The clouds slipped by with minimal acknowledgement and sluggishly thickened when the sun dipped determinedly down again. When evening came, Piper wasn’t even tired. Normally, she would have spent the day exhausting herself with her fancies and fantasies, but today was different. She wondered why. Perhaps she was feeling nervous about being left alone... no, that wasn’t it. When Xavier finally was packed and ready, with his papers by the door, he came outside and found his daughter trying to tightrope-walk between two trees. She’d tied the string around both trunks and was currently putting all her faith into the possibility that it would hold her weight. “When you wake up tomorrow, my dear, I’ll be gone already, so don’t feel alarmed. And there are all sorts of things to eat in the cupboard, so do help yourself." “I know. I cook breakfast every morning." Piper spoke out of the corner of her mouth. Her brow furrowed as she tried to

concentrate. “Ah, yes. Of course, you do. My apologies." Xavier laughed nervously. He ran his skittish fingers through his hair. “Perhaps I shouldn’t be so worried; you’re a responsible girl." No sooner had he said those words, the string snapped, and Piper tumbled to the ground, pulling both shins. Xavier ran to help her, bringing out some tissues from his pocket and dabbing at the skin with frantic enthusiasm. Piper got up and brushed herself off, blushing at her father’s sudden tenderness. She quickly tried to divert the conversation. “Don’t worry about me; you left me alone enough times back at home." “Maybe. But Lute was so... safe. Who knows what could happen to you, being so close to the forest?" Piper was beginning to become irritated. She somewhat managed to convince her paranoid father that she wasn’t going to be mauled by wolves, or savages, or some other dangerous creature of the wilderness, and eventually Xavier was satisfied. He went to sleep that night contented, and his daughter followed soon after. When Piper woke next, it was dark, she was alone, and the ground was shaking as if it would never stop.

9 The Hartlands Crumble

An earthquake. With every violent shake, it felt like the girl’s brain was about to be tossed out of her skull. Her temples pounded. It was as if the warrior woman from the stars had come down from the sky to jump on her head. There was a low, rumbling sound coming from deep below the earth, and it was all the girl could hear. It sounded like the island was screaming, calling out for help. Still bleary-eyed, Piper got up from the bed and stuffed her arms into her coat. Then, she took her shoulder bag from the bedside table and put that in her pocket. Piper looked around the caravan once more, grabbing a dim lantern on the way out, and made her way to the door. It was hard to keep her balance, so in the end, she had to crawl outside. The air seemed to have darkened appropriately, smelling of singed hair and charcoal, but Piper gave it little attention as she tried her best to stand. She was still in her night- clothes, and for once she was thankful; the entire island felt like it was burning. Piper was so hot she had to remove her coat. The sky had lit up with fiery colours: bright reds and deep oranges had merged on the horizon. The clouds looked like they were in flames. Lightning traced its fingers across the stars, outrunning the thunder which shrieked and wailed and made the hair on the back of Piper’s neck stand up. The usual calm and peace of night had been replaced with this clashing orchestra of untuned instruments. And where was her father? With a jolt, Piper remembered that Xavier had gone North, only a few hours beforehand. She hoped he was alright, but those worries were pushed aside; there were more important things to think about. Piper’s eyes were cemented on the caravan in the clearing. It shook as if made of melting snow. With every quiver of the hills, it would teeter, just that much closer to toppling. Left, right, left, right, left, right – With one almighty creak, the caravan was balancing on one wheel. The air suspended it, defying whatever gravity remained. Then, in one quick movement, it fell on to its side. Piper’s ears split with the sound of glass shattering. The terracotta pots on the windowsill were crushed under the vehicle’s weight, sending dusty earth and dry herbs flying. Shards of wood splintered off the roof like tiny, sharp bees. They buzzed angrily through the air. Luckily, Piper had just been out of the range of the caravan’s fall, but it had been close.

What would she do? She had no-where else to go. Her papa had taken the tent and all the camping supplies, so she would be stranded. And what would she do for food? There wasn’t any point pretending that the food inside had survived. Piper had not eaten since last night, and she knew she would be hungry soon. But the shaking had not subsided, and the girl knew she could not dwell on the trivial things whilst her entire world was collapsing around her. As the palpitations pulsed through the prairie, she buried herself in the thick grass and covered her head with her coat. The fabric muffled the noise slightly, and it gave her some comfort. She lay huddled in this strange nest, and as time passed, she wondered what she could do. She considered going North to find her father, but she scratched that idea through as she realised how unlikely it would be for her to find him. So, what next? Piper wondered whether she should track down another explorer’s caravan. But she knew what would happen. They would laugh at her, tell her this was proof that it was too dangerous for a child to be here, and send her straight home. But it was so hard to concentrate. The crashes and clashes of thunder and fire were just too loud, and it was clogging up her head. She put her hands up to her ears to stop it- “Boat-girl?" Piper froze. She uncovered her face and saw a figure looming over her, made more sinister by the bright colours of the sky. “Savage!" In all the excitement, Piper had forgotten about Rhaine. But why was he here? He had never looked worse: his black hair was messy; mud covered his usually pristine face and blood was dripping from a split lip. The white paint smears that were on his cheeks had faded, and his skirt was dirtied and missing most of its feathers. “I’ve come to get you." The boy reached for Piper’s hand, but she pulled it away. “What?" “Just don’t ask any questions and come with me. Things are going on which nobody can explain, so asking is pointless. Take my hand." He grasped the girl’s clenched fist, but Piper broke free. She had somehow turned her hysterics into anger. She got to her feet and backed away. “I’m not going with you. You could do anything to me. You could enslave me. You could eat me." When Rhaine tried to grab hold of her a second time, she yelled and punched him hard in the stomach. He reeled back, huffing. “Please." Were all his winded words could muster. The earth gave one great shake, and Piper was thrown to the floor. She was winded, too, but Rhaine helped her back to her feet. She pushed him away. “I’m not coming with you!" She shrieked.

Something caught Piper’s attention. A crack in the land, bigger than anything she had ever seen, had opened in one of the hills. It had split like bread, quick as butter, and had run through the land like a scar. The sheer sight of it made Piper’s blood run cold. She dreaded to think what might be at the bottom of it. “We’ll be safe in the forest, but we must hurry." Rhaine muttered, mostly to himself. He took hold of Piper’s hand for the last time, and this time she did not pull away. They ran towards the trees as fast as their legs would let them. As the crack-in-the-land spread, the children ran. Shafts of red light streamed down and fizzed on Piper’s skin. The clouds popped and bubbled, and lightning began to strike the ground. “You’re not supposed to go near trees during a lightning storm!" Piper wailed, but Rhaine did not stop moving. Only when they had reached the border to the forest did he let her hand go. Piper was speechless. She had only been in once: that night when Rhaine had caught her in a net, but Piper knew that was not the nature of this entry. No, she knew that if they went in, she may never come out. Rhaine stepped towards the intrepid darkness and took a few steps in. A shadow was cast over him and half of his body disappeared between the trees. Then, he was gone, and Piper was alone. The tremors had died down mostly, to that of faint hiccups, but her legs were tired, and her heart was beating faster than it ever had before. She knew she should not be following this boy. A boy whom she did not know. A boy whom she knew was a cannibal. But Piper Morning was a curious girl, and her curiosity always won. Before she too was enveloped in black, Piper looked back at the little caravan out in the prairie. It had been her home for these past months and had been razed in a matter of minutes. Only its dark shape remained, lit by the reddened sky, and Piper could almost see the big pot just outside it, still warm from dinner. She turned and took her first steps into the forest.

Part 2

The Forest of Endless Night

10 The Jaguah

“Are you there?" Rhaine’s voice was tense. “I’m here." Piper reached out her arms to try and clutch at the boy, but all her hands scraped against was bark. “Just wait a minute for the light to come back." And so it did. “Look, the sky is alright again!” “Do not be fooled. It is still bleeding. It is just the forest’s magic that stops us from seeing it. Now follow me, stick close behind and don’t say a word. As we go deeper, the light will fade, and you’ll have to use your instincts to guide you." Piper had never heard Rhaine take this kind of leadership before. He seemed to have become a different person overnight. He stepped away from her and made his way deeper into the cluster of trees. They were close-knit and intimidating, and it took a few moments for Piper to gather her confidence. Although she couldn’t see Rhaine’s shape in the darkness, she could sense his movements and hear the soft pad of feet, and she let her instincts lead. The silver bark from the outskirts of the wood had vanished, to be replaced with rougher stuff that grazed Piper’s knees and elbows. She tried her best to follow Rhaine but kept losing him to the darkness. All she could see was the shimmer of his eyes, all she could hear was the soft crunch of twigs underfoot. With every step further she took into the abyss - the unknown - Piper became more aware of the dangers that could be lurking. She remembered the man, Mr Roberts, again, and she felt the hair on her neck stand up. And what of her father? If he returned to find her gone, what would he think? “Savage, why did the ground start shaking?" The boy shook his head, helpless. “I said, I don’t know. Nobody knows. It’s never happened before. But I know that the Island is angry. I know that something has happened to agitate her." They continued walking. "But why did you come to get me? I would’ve been fine by myself. Probably. I didn’t need your help.” “I think you did, Boat-girl. If it was not for me, you would still be in that heap in the grass, in danger of being struck by lightning, or the grass catching alight, or an animal finding you and eating you.”

“I’m sure I’m in just as much danger in here as I was out there.” “Maybe, but at least the forest is safe from the storm. Its magic stops us from being in danger of the lightning or the fire. Which means you should be thanking me, Boat-girl, and not asking so many questions.” “What kind of creatures are there?” “Serpents. Man-eating boar. Jaguahs. All of which would not hesitate to eat you or I. Truth be told, I would not be surprised if something was behind you now, waiting to get you.” “You can’t scare me,” Piper said, but checked behind herself, even so. A light growl from behind one of the trees made Rhaine stop in his tracks. “What is it?” The girl whispered, although her tour guide didn’t reply. “Be quiet,” The boy hissed. They watched in terror as, from behind the trees, came – on four sharp, furry paws that ruffled in the feeble breeze – a monster. Something that felt like it had come straight out of Piper's books. A large, snarling beast with fangs as long as her forearm, was standing right in front of her. Its fur was a dark, glossy black, and tucked away on its back lay two great wings. Its eyes shone like black pools of water, so dark and deep you could fall in by simply looking at them, and it was terrifying. The beast skirted around the little clearing, never breaking the gaze between it and the children. Piper could see that Rhaine - who had been so calm during the entire exchange between the pioneer and him - was visibly shaking. The beast growled, sharp white teeth showing. It stared unblinkingly at the healer. Piper waited in anticipation for what was to come. “Hello, boy." Was it her ears? Did Piper Morning just hear a wildcat... talk? Rhaine’s nostrils flared, and a bead of sweat trickled steadily down his forehead. “What are you doing here this far out in the forest, children? And by yourselves, too! You must be lost.” The wildcat padded up to them, twisting through the trees like a snake, and came so close to Piper she could smell it. “Come closer, lost children. I am very safe.” It smelt odd: sweetly perfumed, yet still it made Piper’s nose wrinkle. She backed away, trying to escape the cat’s breath. “And what is this?” The beast turned to look at Piper. It came close again and began sniffing her. “Can you smell that, lost children? There are new smells on this one. But these are nice smells; smells I have never encountered before. Fresh smells. Tender smells. My mouth is craving the taste of this meat, lost children. Perhaps we can make a deal. I will take you home, but only if you let me eat her. I am sure you will be very tasty, little

one.” Piper had never been so afraid in her life. She looked over to Rhaine, who had become so tense it didn’t even look like he was breathing. His lips were pursed, and she could see his heartbeat through his chest. Piper knew he wouldn’t be any help, so she decided to do what he had told her and let her instincts lead. “Oh, thank you. We’ve been in this forest for hours and we have no idea where we are. If you could help us, we’d be really grateful. And once you have got me and my brother safely home, you can take me and eat me however you like.” The cat preened itself, flicking its tail. “Well, if that’s the case, then climb up onto my back and I will take you gladly. See, I am very warm.” Piper grabbed the cat’s fur with both hands and hauled herself up. As scared as she was, it felt nice being up so high. She reached down and helped Rhaine up, too, who didn’t seem able to speak. He sat behind her with his eyes wide and his knuckles white. Once they were on his back, the cat purred once and trotted onwards. “Where do you live, lost children?” He asked, and Piper looked at Rhaine. When he did not reply, she pinched him hard and he cried out. “We live in Moon-Tribe's camp! Just keep going straight and you’ll find it.” Piper hadn’t realised that was where they were going. She was shocked. She had been asking Rhaine to take her to his camp since the first day, and finally, her long-term wish had been granted. She struggled to keep calm and contain the buzz of excitement. “Tell me, girl, why you do not smell like the rest of The Hartlanders. You are not skinny, not sick, but well-fed and healthy. Your brother is not like you. You are different.” Piper didn’t know what to say. “No, actually, I’m not. In fact, it is my brother who is different. You can’t have visited our camp in a while. We eat well, and our medicine is very good. My brother was born sickly and has never recovered. He is still small to this day, no matter how much we feed him." “That cannot be true. The Hartlanders are starving, I saw it with my own eyes. They are starving because of the invaders that have trapped them in their forests, and they cannot eat. You are wrong, girl.” “No, I’m right. You should look when you arrive. It’s because, we’ve found a new plant that grows quickly, is nutritious and feeds us all, and it grows just inside our camp, so we have enough food now. And you know how good we are with medicine. Well, some of us, at least. All we need is a few leaves and some water and we can fix sprained ankles as easy as anything.” “I see. Well, I am glad you are well. Perhaps it means I can eat more than one of you if you’re all as plump as this. In fact, I will. Thank you, girl, I look forward to seeing your tribe again.”

Piper looked behind her and saw Rhaine trying his best to calm himself. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “What are you doing? If that Jaguah comes to our camp, he will eat everyone! You are leading us to our deaths!” "You could say thank to me for thinking like that on the spot.” “We should have just run away; Jaguahs are gullible. We could have easily tricked it into leaving us alone. If he brings us to the camp and sees a hundred defenceless natives, he will not hesitate to devour us all.” “Have it your way, then. Stop!” Piper called to the cat, who halted obediently. “I’m so sorry. My brother made a mistake. The camp isn’t this way, it’s actually that way.” She pointed somewhere into the dark. “It’s not far in that direction, just don’t stop walking.” “Your carelessness infuriates me, lost children.” The cat growled but changed direction anyway. “Your wings are beautiful,” Piper said, inspecting the ruffled feathers and the care in which they had been cleaned. “You are kind,” Replied the wildcat, enjoying the praise. “I can fly, but now that I cannot leave the forest, I am unable to demonstrate.” “What were you saying about the invaders?” “The people that came to the island on great ships. The Boat-folk, you call them. They did not affect me, for I never leave the forest anyway, but your camp suffered greatly. The invaders have been capturing and killing your people, even though they have done nothing wrong-” “No, we haven’t! That’s a lie!” The words had left Piper’s mouth before she had time to stop them. “‘We’?” The cat’s voice dropped lower. “You say ‘we’ as if you are one of them, girl. Are you a liar?” “No, I’m not. Just keep walking; I am a savage, I promise.” “Savage? That is what you call them: you call them ‘savages.’ You are one of the Boat- folk - you lied to me, and you do not belong to Moon-Tribe. I will not return you: instead, I will eat you now.” The cat stopped and tipped them off his back, and the two children tumbled to the ground. The beast turned around to face them, and bared his teeth, ready to pounce. Rhaine, who had somehow been shocked back to reality, shouted out to run, though Piper was already sprinting away in an opposite direction. She faintly heard the boy shout to: “Follow me!”, but the girl was being led purely by instinct and adrenaline. All I have to do, she thought, is get back to the caravan. Her breath flew out of her mouth in sharp wheezes, her eyes bright as a candle. She scanned the pitch-black area in front of her, praying she wouldn’t bump into a tree.

The branches caught her clothes, and the wind screamed and groaned as it whizzed past her ears. It whistled through the canopies above and sang songs of death to her as she raced through the labyrinth of trees. Then she realised that she was no longer running, no longer wheezing. Her hair obscured her eyes, but Piper could feel her hands resting on something cold and hard. Digging her nails in, the girl concluded she had fallen over. Piper sat up and listened. All was quiet. A slight rustle in the bushes, perhaps, a berry falling from a bush, all sounds not unfamiliar to the girl, so they went unregistered. She didn’t know where she was, or how far she had to walk before she came back to the caravan, but she was tired and hungry and afraid of what she might meet if she stayed here much longer. She tried to get up, but could not, and felt around in the gloom, wincing when her fingers ran over a long gash on her leg. She must have cut herself while falling. Piper brought her fingers up and massaged her temples to try and soothe the headache that had crept up on her while she was escaping. She heard a rustle in the bushes, though put it down simply to a mouse or a leaf being blown by the wind. It did occur slightly odd, however, when the sound persisted. It was getting louder. “I followed your scent, little girl." The deep growl came from within the bush, and Piper could see its two moon-eyes glinting in the night. “I am very hungry, you see." The wildcat emerged from the undergrowth, sharp fangs bared and ready. It arched its back and yawned. Piper closed her eyes tightly and thought of the caravan back in the prairie. She thought about her city apartment with the iron gate outside. She wrapped her hands around her knees, not caring when she felt the slippery pus that had formed around a cut. She thought about her father and hoped he wouldn’t miss her too much. And Piper Morning waited. Then, suddenly, a hand grabbed her shoulder, and the girl opened her eyes. “Rhaine!’ She exclaimed. She could only see his silhouette in the black, but she could easily tell that it was him. He held her hand and helped her to her feet. She winced as she put her weight onto her hurt leg.

“Run!’ He shouted, and the two children scampered back into the cloak of the hungry night.

11 Lillianna’s Past

The wind whipped Piper’s hair, though little was to be found naturally in these parts of the forest. She was running, slightly dazed after being so prepared for death. The whole experience didn’t feel completely real. It was almost as if she expected to wake up back in bed next to her father. Nevertheless, Piper could not deny the absolutely, undeniably real feeling of the adrenaline that pumped itself through her veins. "Where are we going?" She shouted to the silhouette in front of her, its inky hands gripping her wrist. His long nails dug in sharply. "The camp!” He shouted back, eyes glinting. “It is not far from here, but we cannot stop running!” “Savage, you’re scaring me. I want to go home, let me go!” The boy led Piper in and out of various trees, not caring when either of them ran into a root or a branch. His head was twitching left and right, taking her on a ludicrously complicated journey - though he looked as if he had a route in his head. She could feel his heartbeat through his hand, pulsing strong as a rock. They were running so quickly the girl didn’t know if they were going to slow down at all. Then, the silhouette stopped, sending dust flying underneath his feet. They’d arrived at a curtain of lichen, ivy and vines. It curled around the trunks of the trees and hid whatever was beyond it. Piper reached out and touched the curtain – it was thick and damp and pricked her curious fingers. “Behind these plants is my camp. This curtain hides it from predators, so the only way to get in is round the back, here.” Rhaine took hold of Piper’s hand again and led her to a large crack in the ivy-and-vine-curtain. He stuck his arm in and drew back the veil of greenery, and for a moment Piper was pushing her way through the thick wall, pushing with what was left of her strength, and then she was through to the other side. Piper found herself in a clearing: the trees grew thick overhead, covering any loose patches of the night sky. A fire crackled merrily, filling the silence with a warming glow and spitting hot sparks onto the cool earth. Patterned tents of canvas littered the edge of the clearing, each one with a marking painted in lavish colours - spots, stripes, symbols - enough to make Piper’s head spin. There were mothers with babies, children fighting with small twigs. It was an overwhelming sight, and although Piper knew she should probably run, her legs wouldn’t do what she told them to. They were frozen still, leaving her only to watch and wait.

At that moment, Rhaine let go of her hand and ran over to a woman sitting on an upturned log. She was tall and slim, with long white-blonde hair and eyes that flashed green-blue. They were screwed close as she sobbed into her slender hands. "Mother!" Rhaine shouted and fell into her surprised arms. The two savages shared an embrace that seemed like it would never end, as the woman’s arms locked tightly around the boy and stayed there. "Oh, my darling, you are alright.” She choked. “Lora Bianca was in her tent: I thought I would go mad with worry.” It was too much for the woman and she began weeping again. Rhaine wiped her tears away tenderly. “It is alright, Mother, I am safe, you do not need to worry about me. Look, I did what you asked.” Piper was trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. She had been scared of one savage eating her earlier: she dreaded to think of what a hundred of them might do. The girl noticed Rhaine look over at her, surprised at when the woman’s pale face crumpled. “Piper Morning?” She asked, and all the girl could do was nod slightly. “Oh, child!” The woman detached herself from her son and gave Piper a similar embrace. “It is so lovely to finally meet you.” She was still in shock, for tears began to fall again. “Please forgive me; I am in a fragile mood. My name is Esther, I am Rhaine’s mother. You will be sleeping with us while you are here. Our tent is not the largest, but I am sure there will be enough space for you.” She looked expectantly at her son. "Yes, me too.” It didn’t sound like the boy meant it, though when he saw his mother still looking, he continued “I hope you are all right," he said, half-heartedly. "Most people cannot survive a Jaguah attack. Lucky I was there to help you." "You didn’t help me. I did all the work. You just sat behind me." Piper said, indignant as always. “Ungrateful girl. I will thank you to have some respect for my people’s hospitality.” “I don’t need to show any respect, Savage. You kidnapped me. That’s all you do. You kidnap people and eat them.” Rhaine’s expression worsened upon hearing these words. "Of course you would think that, Boat-girl. I should not have expected you to be kind to me, anyway. And if you are not careful, then maybe I will eat you." "I’m not scared of a savage," Piper retaliated, her fiery eyes burning brighter. “Please, children. Now is not the time. I am sure Bastian is waiting for you.” Rhaine nodded and grabbed Piper’s shoulder tightly. His nails dug in and made red marks in her flesh, the slight smile that crept upon his face making it clear to the girl that

it was deliberate. She winced but decided not to show her pain. The savage led her through the camp, and Piper pretended not to notice as one by one every native stopped what they were doing and stared at the strange girl walking by. Silence fell like a silken cloth over the settlement, all staring open-mouthed at the foreigner. The tents scuttled by as she and Rhaine walked past and Piper was shocked at how many there were. It was a much bigger camp than she had expected. As they walked, she wondered if the savages outnumbered the expedition. She thought they did; it looked like there were more people in the clearing than all the pioneers put together. Although, the expedition was undoubtedly better equipped than all these malnourished natives. It was obvious who would win in a fight. They came to a tent that was larger than the rest, made from pure white canvas and thick paint. It was held together with glossy logs that were pointed at the top. Piper could hear someone inside, muttering to themselves as they worked. Two people stood either side of the tent’s entrance, guarding. They spotted Piper at the same time and narrowed their eyes. The grip on the girl’s shoulder tightened as Rhaine pulled her closer to the tent. She looked at him and saw that he looked genuinely afraid. They arrived at the tent flap and Rhaine looked at one of the guards. "May I please see Bastian?" He asked. "Moon-tribe's chief cannot be disturbed. He is working." The guards said in unison. "But it is not a matter that can be postponed.” Rhaine pleaded, glancing at Piper. “I need to see him now." "Moon-tribe's chief is working. Come back later." "But he was the one that sent me to fetch her. He will want to see me. Please, it is especially important." He was begging now, panicking slightly. "He is working." The guards replied, without any emotion in their voices. They put their hands on Rhaine’s shoulders and tried to steer him away from the flap entirely. "You visit too often. He has asked for you not to return." "You do not understand-" Rhaine began to say but was interrupted by a scuffle coming from within the tent. "Let him in, Cora. Kirun, get me some water." The two guards paused, surprised, and then reluctantly lifted the tent flap to reveal a small space inside. Piper and Rhaine went in. The tent was warm, warmer than outside and lit with yellow candles. It was decorated sparsely: with only a bag to sleep in and a kneel-desk where a man was hunched over, working. "Bastian?" Rhaine said, hesitantly.

The man turned around to face the two children, looking expectant. He was young, perhaps only just turned thirty, with olive skin and curly brown hair. His eyes shone chocolate, and his brows where furrowed in a permanent frown. "Did you do it, boy?" he said. Then he saw Piper. He paused for a few moments. "That is the girl?” He asked. Rhaine nodded, clutching Piper tighter. "Good evening, Piper. My name is Bastian, I am the tribe’s chief. You will be staying with us until I say you can go.” He turned his steely gaze to Rhaine. “I will introduce her to everyone in one hour, so please be ready by then.” The boy gasped. "Of course!" He grabbed Piper’s shoulder again and brought her out of the tent with such force she was worried she might be flung into the air. "If you want me to be gentler, Boat-girl, my answer is no." Piper was so covered in bumps and bruises from being grabbed and pinched and poked that she was certain she looked more like a blueberry than a twelve-year-old girl. They scuttled silently along the outskirts of the camp, trying to avoid the gazes of the inhabitants until they came to a smaller tent tucked away in the corner. Piper hadn’t seen it at first. It was made of different material, though, one she had never seen before. And instead of spots, stripes or symbols on the side, there were rows and rows of white feathers. "Get inside quickly. There is someone who wishes to speak with you." Rhaine pushed her underneath the tent flap, and Piper tumbled inside. Unlike Bastian’s, this tent was pitch-black and seemingly empty. However, it was still somehow warm, and Piper felt comfortable despite her blindness. When she listened closely, she could hear someone else breathing. She was not alone. “Welcome, Piper Morning.” Came a voice from the darkness. Piper was unable to tell what the voice sounded like – it was rich, yet clear, deep yet melodic. It lilted and crashed like thunder and flutes and rolled deliciously around the ear like a wave. It seemed to be a patchwork of all the voices Piper had ever heard before, forged into one. But what she found unmistakable was that the voice was very, very old. She waited in silence for it to sound again. "I have known you for a long time, Piper Morning, although you do not know me.” “Who’s speaking? I want to see you.” Piper jumped as two hands reached out of the black and took hold of her own. They were calloused and wrinkled, but soft. “Please sit, and I will tell you a story.” “Who are you? How do you know who I am?” “Let me tell my story, and then I will answer your questions.” The voice was comforting, and Piper found herself succumbing to it. “Sit.”

She eased herself down, feeling around for something soft, and found a single silk cushion. Piper sat and waited for the story to begin. The voice coughed before starting: “Once - and only once - not long ago, there was a clever woman. She was brave and strong, with a sharp mind and a quick tongue. “She was an explorer, and she wanted to meet the world. As she grew, so did her ambitions. She decided she would go where no-one else had ever gone before, travel oceans, explore jungles. “But she got side-tracked, as one often does, and fell in love instead. Her husband she met in a museum, their eyes meeting across a specimen of octopus. For a time, she thought she needed nothing else, for she had her love. And not long after, they got married. It was a wonderful occasion, and although neither parent approved of it, the lovers had never been happier. They bought a house with the husband’s money - a large house on a spacious avenue and lived there for a while. “Until the clever woman discovered she was pregnant, and she finally realised that she did need something else, and that something was growing inside her. “The weeks past, and the little knot of nerves kicked and fizzed and grew until the clever woman was bursting with both anticipation and with child. Then the baby was born, and it was a girl. The clever woman finally felt complete. For many full-moons the three lived in bliss. “But the clever woman soon found herself longing for adventure once more, as much as she tried to drown it out with the love of her baby. She realised that her need for exploration was just as much a part of her as the need to brush her teeth or her hair. And combing one’s hair is not neglectful, is it? “So, early one morning, she went to the docks and she bought a great one-man boat with her husband’s money (women could not buy it themselves), and she sailed away for three days. Her boat she named The Wanderer. “Her husband did not mind - in fact, he encouraged her behaviour, for he loved seeing her come back from the sea bright-eyed and light-footed, and his daughter did not mind being left alone with her father now and again. “And so, these golden days were cherished and loved, and the clever woman truly felt as though she was complete. For she had her daughter, her husband and her boat. “With each trip to sea, she would get bolder and bolder, sailing further and further into the murky unknown, before returning home to her family. She loved watching the fish play in the water, and the way the seafoam strung stories across the crests of the waves. She’d spend hours awake at night watching the clear sea skies, mapping the stars and the constellations, noting them down in one of her many notebooks. “But one awful day, she misjudged the weather and went out with a storm coming fast. She didn’t know, she didn’t see. As it came, she kept sailing, further and further, chasing

the horizon, until she looked and saw a crashing wave coming towards her boat. “She tried to steer away, tried to save herself, but it was too late. The ship was cracked, and she was swept away. All that remained was a single plank of driftwood, and she clung to that for fear of drowning. “When next she remembered, the clever woman had been washed up on the shore of an island. A beautiful island, with sweltering skies and crystal waters, and she knew immediately this was not her home. Her home was dark and muggy, without any trees, any flowers. “First, her mind was drawn to her daughter, who she hoped was safe. But she knew she could trust her husband to take care of her: all that mattered now was getting off this island. “The clever woman began to work. She worked for hours and hours piecing together raft after raft and trying to get it to float. But the tide kept pushing it back, pushing her back, as if it did not want her to leave. The clever woman saw it was getting dark and decided to rest until morning. “That night, people came to the woman and woke her. Strange people, with different customs and different voices, and she was afraid at first. But they were kind, and she saw that they meant her no harm. She told them that she meant to travel home, but was unable to build a raft, and they told her they would help her. They took her to their settlement and gave her food to eat and a soft place to sleep. And then, they put her to bed again. “The next morning, the kind people helped her build a raft to help her home, and by evening-time it was complete. But the woman did not feel like she should leave just yet, for she had stumbled across a whole civilization of people whom she did not even know existed. “She knew she had a family back home, but her curiosity triumphed – as it often did – and she decided to stay. “For a week she lived with the kind people: eating their food, wearing their clothes and sleeping in their tents, and she learnt many things. All the experiences she recorded in three other notebooks, with lemon juice so it would be invisible to all but those who knew its contents. The kind people marvelled at this simple trick, and in return they showed her magic. “They showed her all kinds of magic: magic that could heal, magic that could harm, magic that could turn the sky purple and the oceans red, and the clever woman was spellbound. Never had she thought magic could exist until now. “The week ended, and the woman was sad to go, but knew it was vital she returned to her daughter. She decided that the moment she got home, she would tell everyone about this wonderful island and its wonderful inhabitants. The islanders agreed: for they longed to meet her people.

“So, the woman sailed home, with food supplies and clothes and messages, shaking with the excitement of her journey, quivering more at the thought of seeing her baby again.” Piper was silent. She didn’t know what to think, what to say. So much of that story felt familiar, yet so much... so much of it felt so wrong. After many minutes of silence, she finally had enough courage to speak. “Who was the clever woman?” The voice laughed, though not unkindly. “Piper Morning, the clever woman was your mother.”

12 Lora Bianca, the Truth-Teller

The girl felt as if the canvas of the tent was closing in on her, squashing her down. It was impossible. “No, you’re wrong. it was Charles Hathoway who discovered the island, he told us himself. He was the one on the shipwreck, not Mama. And he said the natives were evil. he said they tried to eat him. That’s what he told us.” “Well, what you have been told are lies.” At last the voice hardened. “Sick lies, lies that brain-wash and belittle, lies which rip humanity from human. You must not believe what you have been told, Piper Morning. The fate of my people depends on it.” The darkness was closing in, and it didn’t stop. It had its awful hands clutched around Piper’s heart, squeezing it hard. She couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. “No!” She screamed, throwing the silk cushion aside and standing again. “You’re lying! I’m not so easily fooled, although you might’ve thought differently. Who are you, anyway? Why in the world should I trust you?” “My name is Lora Bianca. I am Moon-Tribe's truth-teller.” There was the swift sound of flint clipping steel, and in an instant light was birthed in the cramped tent. The curious warmth died, the walls turned orange and the voice was finally given a face. Lora Bianca – or so she called herself – was small, with hunched shoulders and broad hips. In contrast to the starving natives, she was plump and full, with long thick hair that was grey and tied in a plait. Her face was covered in wrinkles, each expertly carved by time, that creased whenever she moved her mouth, and her eyes- Except she had no eyes. Instead, in their place were two dark sockets. Two empty sockets that seemed endless. Where were her eyeballs? All that was left were deep scars that stretched her skin and rubbed it raw. Piper had to stifle a scream. “You may find me monstrous, but my eyes were a sacrifice to the goddess Iris. I was born just three minutes after my predecessor, Moon-Tribe's last truth-teller, died, and so my eyes were ripped out in return for my future sight.” “I don't care.” “I receive visions, Piper Morning. Visions of the future. Surely you care about that. I receive messages of happenings that will change the course of history forever, and it is my duty to make them known. You see, I saw your mother coming to The Hartlands before

she arrived, and so I knew to tell my people that she was not a threat and to help her. And I saw your expedition, eight weeks ago, and I knew to tell my people to be afraid. I am here to keep my tribe safe, and ensure the future is as Iris intends.” “Stop talking.” Piper felt sick. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, desperately trying to hold it in. But it was too late, Lora Bianca opened the tent flap and Piper coughed up what was left of last night’s dinner. When she looked up next, the stares of curiosity from earlier had been replaced by stares of disgust. Piper felt her face going red. “Come back in, child.” Lora Bianca closed the flap when the girl had sat back down. “I apologise. I overwhelmed you with too much information, and it was my fault you are not strong enough to take it in. Drink from this cup, you will feel better.” “I’m not drinking your potions.” Piper managed to say weakly. “They could be poisonous.” “It is just water. Drink.” Piper did as she was told. She did feel a better after some water, even though the world was still spinning. “I hope that helped. I am sure you are hungry now, but you will just have to wait. I believe you are needed.” As if on cue, there came a commotion from outside. “Gather, people of the forest! I have an announcement to make.” It was the voice of Bastian, and the bustle of people collecting in the clearing. “Have courage, Piper Morning. They will get used to you eventually.” Lora Bianca opened the tent flap to Piper and led her gently out. Before she left, the woman tied a cotton cloth around her eyes. “It can be upsetting for some to see my wounds.” she said as an explanation. Piper let her hobble past, and meekly followed her to the main clearing of the camp. A crowd had gathered: a crowd of curious natives, all nudging and whispering and staring at the scruffy girl who made her way to the tree stump upon which Bastian stood. “As I am sure many of you have seen,” the chief began. “there is someone amongst us who is not from Moon-Tribe. She will be staying with us for a while. Lora Bianca wishes to explain some more.” He stepped down and let the truth-teller stand in his place. “Good evening, friends.” The crowd fell silent at her words. “Many four-seasons ago, I had a vision. And this vision told me of a child who would save us – and The Hartlands – from a terrible threat. At that point in time, I knew not what the threat was, but I am sure you all know today what the vision spoke of. The Boat- folk, yes.” A ripple of dread spread through the crowd. “And this child, I had been told,

would be none other than the daughter of Lillianna Morning.” The crowd was silent again. All eyes were on Piper. “She and our apprentice healer, Rhaine, will be the ones to stop the Boat-folk and their terrible schemes. Please make Piper Morning welcome, for she will be the one to save us all.” A great cheer erupted from the crowd, a cheer that can only be mustered by the truly desperate. A sickly-looking woman surged forward and planted several kisses on Piper’s forehead, and children came with sticks and pieces of fabric to give to her as modest presents. As much as Piper wanted to feel special, she was more confused than anything else. Why had she not been told of this? And what did Rhaine have to do with all of it? Why had he not told her that he knew of her mother, when he knew Piper cared so much for her? She felt rage bubbling in her belly. Piper broke free of the kisses and cheers and ran away from the centre clearing. She looked around in the crowd for Rhaine, and eventually saw his shape outlined inside one of the tents. Piper marched over, opened the flap and pushed the boy hard. “You’re a traitor!” She screamed. “You knew about my mother all this time!” Rhaine’s cheeks flushed. “I had been forbidden to tell you. Bastian said so. he said that, if you knew too soon, you might be scared away. It was not my fault; I was simply doing as I was told.” “I don’t care. You betrayed me, and I trusted you. You should’ve told me, Rhaine. And I thought we might’ve been...” the girl trailed off. She couldn’t bring herself to say that last word. “Take me home, Savage. Take me home now.” Piper had to struggle very hard not to cry. Her emotions were finally catching up to her, and she wiped away the slight wet with her finger. “I cannot let you leave; you are our only hope. Our only hope at being able to leave this forest. If your expedition does not let us out soon, we will all starve to death.” “That’s got nothing to do with me, though!” “Yes, it has: the visions state that you will help stop them.” “But what if I don’t want to help?” “You do not have a choice!” “Children, please.” Esther had come quickly to stop the argument. “I suspect you are tired. Look, Piper, I have prepared another sleeping mat for you.” The girl looked down and found a sack full of feathers to sleep on. Rhaine had evidently calmed down and looked as though he wished to apologise. But Piper wasn’t ready to forgive him just yet, so without any words, she lowered herself down onto the sack and was asleep within minutes.

13 An Escape

When Piper woke, she was surprised to see that it was still dark outside, even though the rest of the camp seemed to be up and working. Her tent was empty, with the sacks neat and arranged, and she wondered how long she had slept. This peculiar lack of light was disorientating. “Good morning, my dear.” It was Esther who spoke, emerging from somewhere behind the tent. “Morning?” Piper looked up, and sure enough the moon was still high in the sky. “Did Rhaine not tell you?” Esther chuckled. “We are in the Forest of Endless Night, which is named so for good reason: we never see any sun here, only moonlight. It can be irritating sometimes, as we never know when morning comes, but it is worth it for what we get in return. This forest is magic, and its magic protects us from the wrath of The Hartlands. It is why our camp is here and not out in the open. When the crack-in-the- land broke apart the hills, it did not break apart this forest. You have nothing to fear, Piper, because no matter what, you are safe.” “But my papa...” “I am sure your father is managing. Anyway, I believe Bastian wishes to talk with you.” Piper saw Rhaine first, standing outside the tent. He seemed eager to speak to her, but the girl pushed past him and entered alone. “Ah,” Bastian turned around from his desk. “I am glad you are up at last. I will not tolerate such laziness tomorrow, but for today you are forgiven. Come, I have matters to discuss with you two.” Piper shuffled gingerly towards the man’s desk. He offered the children a cushion each to sit on. “Lora Bianca tells me you are reluctant to believe her, so I will be brief. We are dying. And whether you like it or not you will help us survive. Lora Bianca had a vision in which you and Rhaine managed to convince your expedition to leave, and we were finally free to roam again. And yes, it is only you two that can save us, for the future must be written as Iris intends. We do not know how you will go about saving us, not yet, but I am sure the Island Spirit will help you.” “A Spirit?” Now Piper had had enough. She was tired of these stupid savages and their stupid beliefs. She couldn’t bear another hour with them. She had to escape, and time was running out.

Piper half-listened, half-drifted while Bastion droned on about plans, and expectations, and the responsibilities she would have while staying in the camp. She almost didn’t notice when Rhaine pinched her hard. “I knew you were not listening. Come on, you need to go and see Lora Bianca again. I will meet you later.” “Don’t bother,” Piper muttered and set off for the feathered tent in the corner. Lora Bianca came out to greet the girl, though Piper still had no clue how the woman knew she was coming. “Piper Morning, it is good to hear you again.” The girl grunted something in reply. “I received another vision last night. In this vision, you attempted escaping our settlement. I would just like to warn you what that would mean for us. I cannot control your actions - so please think before you do anything fatal.” “But you’re saying I can leave whenever I want?” “Piper Morning, you are not a prisoner - much as Rhaine likes making you out to be. You may leave at any time you like. But a word of warning: choose your path wisely.” With a grunt, Lora Bianca got to her feet, and helped Piper up. She led her out of the tent and through the camp until they came to a secluded spot, tucked away in the corner. “Please, go through.” The woman said, and Piper pushed her way through the ivy, which was thinner here and gave easily. Soon the woman appeared behind her, and they continued to walk into the forest. Then Lora Bianca stopped, and pointed to something. “There.” It was tree, taller and thicker than any of the others, with bark that glowed golden. Fireflies danced around its oaky bark, and moss grew up its sides. The leaves were golden, glowing too, and from them hung tiny bits of crystal. The same crystal that Charles Hathoway had given her and her father. Piper wanted to reach out and examine it closer, but Lora Bianca held up her hand to stop her. “Do not touch; that fruit is extremely dangerous. Piper Morning, this is Tessa’s tree, our most pungent proof that magic exists.” “It’s just a tree, though.” Piper mumbled. “No, it is not. This tree is the lifeblood of our civilisation. Without it, we would be nothing. At that moment, Piper’s attention was brought to a chiming coming from the camp. It sounded tinny, like a child’s toy. “What’s happening?” She asked. Lora Bianca, however, was silent. As they walked back to the ivy wall, Piper noticed

that the rest of the camp had gone silent, too, and it stopped her from asking any more questions. One by one, members of the tribe emerged from their tents and stopped what they were doing. They began to gather in the centre of the camp, lining up in order of age: young children first, then adults. The woman guard – her name was Cora, Piper remembered – stood at the front of these lines with her bell, ringing and ringing. Lora Bianca patted Piper’s shoulder, and the two left the tent to join the gathering. Piper lost sight of the blind-folded woman but managed to find her age’s line easily enough. She spotted Rhaine and considered going and standing next to him. However, someone had started to speak. “Members of Moon-Tribe,” Bastian said, “Today is that of a solemn one. Today, like every four-season, is the day that the moon is thrice-full, so we gather to remember those we have lost. This four-season, we have lost many more than we ever have before, so let us stand and pray for those passed.” The natives, one by one, departed from the line and came to the front to read out names of people who had died. Piper listened guiltily as name after name was called. “We remember Lola, Kris, Yan-Rick and Evie. We remember Leoh, Pan and baby Willah. We remember Kataline, Rosora...” It didn’t stop. The names kept coming. Piper looked over at Esther, who seemed unable to control her tears as they ran their rivers down her face. Lora Bianca, who stood at the back, stood with her lips pursed and her hands clasped together, muttering, praying, maybe. And Rhaine had his face in his hands, trying to cover up his sobs. An hour went by, and finally, the naming stopped. All who would speak had spoken, and Bastian lifted his arms into the air. The rest of the tribe copied, and Piper found herself joining, too. “We pray for those passed. We pray for those passing. We pray for those who will pass.” A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. “Now, we stand blind, and recall the spirits of the dead.” Piper scanned the gathering and saw people begin to shut their eyes and put their hands up to cover them. Silence descended again over the camp. Not a sound could be heard other than the mournful heartbeats of those around her. At that moment, Piper realised no-one could see. She realised no-one was watching. She looked around one last time, took a deep breath, expertly thread herself out of the crowd and departed the clearing as silent as a breeze. She padded up to the wall of vines that bordered the camp and tried to remember how Rhaine had got in. She remembered the crack in the wall and skirted around the edges of the tents until she came to it. She took a step in and pushed with all her strength.

14 The Beast with Eight Legs

The plants coiled around her head and clung to her neck, but she kept pushing, pushing until her legs were out, then her head, her arms. She was free! But it was so quiet. Where were all the noises? That didn’t matter, all she had to do was walk in one direction and eventually she’d find her way out. Piper took a step forward. She felt around for a tree or something to grab onto, for her eyes were not used to this darkness, and she took another step. The girl hadn’t noticed before how sharp the ground was: covered in twigs and small pebbles. The ground of Moon-Tribe's camp wasn’t this painful. Piper distracted herself by taking her mother’s notebook out of her shoulder bag. She got out a pen.

Piper Morning, adventurer Day 78 I never thought I’d be so lucky and infiltrate a savage’s camp. They tried to trick me by saying they knew my mother, but I was too quick for them and managed to escape. I know this forest is dangerous, so I’ll try not to die.

And I hope my papa’s okay, too. I wish I could see him.

After she’d put the book away, Piper walked on, somewhat reluctantly. She tried her best to shake the thoughts from her head, tried to focus just on getting out of the forest, but she couldn’t help but wonder. She didn’t believe that Lillianna had made friends with the savages, of course, but how did they know so much about her? When Lora Bianca was telling that story, she had got so many details correct that it sounded like she was telling the truth. Her parent’s eyes did meet over an octopus specimen at a museum, and her mother’s ship had been called The Wanderer, so perhaps it was true. It would’ve been difficult to guess such a thing as that. In many ways, Piper wanted to believe the savages... no, she didn’t. If she did, everything she’d been told by the expedition would have been lies, and that would cause all sorts of awful consequences. Piper just had to focus on finding her father. Except there was an annoying, scuttling sound, and the girl wasn’t able to concentrate- “Piper Morning?”

All of the girl’s blood ran from her face. Whose voice was that? The only person who knew her name was Xavier. The voice was far away, she couldn’t hear it quite clearly, but it could have been Xavier. “Piper Morning! Come to me!” “Who’s there?” The girl called. She pushed her way through the branches, closer to the voice. “I cannot see you.” “I’m here. Who are you?” “Keep walking, Piper Morning, and you will find me... here, I stand by these rocks. Oh, I can see your silhouette. closer, yes! Closer...” Piper crept forward, suddenly feeling frightened. It sounded like Xavier, maybe, but he didn’t talk like that at all. He wasn’t so confident. He wasn’t so formal. He stuttered more. As Piper got nearer, she also saw that he didn’t look like Xavier, either. He had too many segments and too many legs. “Yes. There you are.” Now that Piper was close to the voice, she knew it was not her papa’s. This voice was strangled and choking. Piper was certain this was not her father, but she walked on even so. “Who are you?” she questioned the shadow. “How do you know who I am?” “Everybody knows who you are, Piper Morning. Follow me and I will take you home.” Piper had now got so close she could feel its breath. This was not the breath of a man, though, but of something somewhat inhuman altogether. It reminded Piper of when her neighbour’s dog had attacked her once when she was small. This breath was just as aggressive - and just as stinking. Piper had to breathe out with only her mouth to avoid retching. Two sharp, black spears burst into her vision and ran themselves gently over her skin. They were cold and seemed more like spider’s legs to the girl than anything else as they began feeling her neck, her nose. “Let me smell you, girl... you smell sweeter than the rest of your family. Your clothes are so soft and clean... you are lost!” “Yes, I am. Please tell me the way out of the forest.” “Oh no, girl, you don’t want to go there... outside this forest is a dangerous place, with bad people that kill you at the first chance they get... or so I have been told. If you are lost, come with me and I will feed you.” Piper agreed, not because she believed anything the beast was saying, but if there was even a chance of her being given a meal, she would take it. She hadn’t eaten in days and food was all she could think about. “Follow my eyes...”

Piper squinted, and saw eight, glowing pinpricks appear in her vision. The pinpricks turned, and scuttled away from her, and Piper followed. “I know you’re not my father,” The beast made a noise – it could have been a laugh; it could have been something else. “and I know you’re not a human, either.” “That is right, girl.” “Then what are you?” “Why does it matter...? I am simply helping you get home.” “I’m just asking in case you want to eat me.” “Oh, no... my kind does not eat the likes of you... much to fleshy, much to soft...” “Then why are you helping me?” The beast paused, almost like it was asking itself the same question. “I will not eat you... I promise.” Then it was silent, and the two twisted onwards through the trees. “Ah, here we are. There is a log over there which you can sit on... and I will prepare the meal.” “Thank you.” Piper mumbled gratefully, not exactly meaning to. “I caught some fresh grubs this morning. Would you like to share them with me...?” Piper stuttered. “I - I don’t like grubs. Sorry.” “These are nice ones, I promise you... very fresh. I will roast them and then you’ll see how delicious they are.” “Alright,” Piper answered, giving up. “thank you.” The beast seemed satisfied and set to work. It crept quietly, picking up this and that, putting it all into a bowl. It picked everything up with its teeth, not its hands, and smears of bioluminescent spit were left on everything it touched. The beast went over to a tree trunk and stuck its head into one of its knots. It returned with five grubs in its mouth, still alive and wriggling. Piper felt a little sick. “Light a fire for me, girl.” Piper knelt down by a charred pile of leaves and looked busy, pretending to know how to do such a primitive thing as light a fire. The beast turned, looking at her. It seemed almost amused. “You do not know how...!” “No. I don’t. You’re right.” Piper stepped away from the pile and the beast went over to it instead. It used two of its eight legs and snatched a piece of flint from the ground. It

began clipping one stone against another, and a spark was made. The leaves were lit in seconds. “There. That is how you make a fire... have you learnt now?” “I think so.” Piper stoked the fire with a large stick, desperate to prove herself, and warmed her stiff hands. She recalled a festival that took place every year during wintertime back on the mainland. She and her father would take a train to the city centre to watch a large bonfire being lit by the Scientists’ Cathedral. Piper remembered the way the flames licked the sky, burning scarlet. She remembered how the smoke would wrap itself around her like a blanket, like a hug. When she breathed in, she would have to cough heartily, and it always made Xavier chuckle. The smell the beast’s fire made took her back there, standing hand-in-hand with her papa, entranced by the bonfire. “You are thinking... what is it you think of?” The beast scuttled closer to Piper, with is eight smooth legs and eyes and clipping jaws. Piper knew she should feel afraid, but there was a kindness in the beast’s movement that stopped her from running or shouting for help. Not that shouting would have saved her, anyway. “I’m thinking about my father. When I heard you in the forest, I thought he had come to get me. I thought he might’ve been worried about me.” Another thought popped into her head. “But you sounded like Papa. I’m sure I heard his voice instead of yours. How did you do it?” The beast seemed uncomfortable. “I am able to get inside other’s heads. I have always been able to do it... it seems as though I can’t control it. I can see they’re greatest fears, they’re hopes, who they miss the most, who they admire...” “And you saw my father?” “I did. I saw a great pain in your heart. You miss him. Why is it you cannot see him?” “He left me alone, and there was an earthquake. Rhaine came to fetch me. I don’t even know if he’s still alive.” And all of a sudden, without any warning, the tears came. Piper cried for a while until all that was left were her sniffles. The spider sensed her sadness, and tenderly opened her balled fist and popped a grub into her hand. It was roasted, crispy and dark brown. “I know humans dislike eating grubs, but this is all I have to offer... please eat while it is hot.”

Piper carefully inserted the thing into her mouth, and it was surprisingly good. Not delicious, but better than had been expected. She crunched her grub as she spoke. “You’re different to the beasts that I’ve met.” “How so...?” “I think you’re kinder. The other beast would’ve eaten me by now.” The spider paused. It looked like it might be about to cry – although, of course, spiders cannot cry. “I am not like them.” It spoke slowly. “I am not a beast. I am Arachnid...” The spider squinted, like it was trying to remember details from an ancient memory. “... I think my name was Halaja.” “You have a name?” “Of course I do. All Arachnids have names: they are given to us at birth. But my name was taken away from me... so now I am just ‘Spider’. The people did not like how I could see their thoughts, even though I told them I could not help it. ‘you are a thief’ they told me, ‘a thief of privacy’. I could see that I did not have long left. “But then I saw the thoughts of the King. I had had my suspicions for a while, but never had I voiced them. I meant not to, but by the time I had sensed them it was too late. I looked into his thoughts, and... and I saw what he had been doing to his waiting-maids. So, I took action. “I told the people that our King was a rapist... I thought they would support me. But instead of turning against him, they turned against me. They attacked me and took me to the King. He banished me from the cave, renounced the honour of my name, and said that if I ever went back, I would be killed.” “Then why do you live in the forest?” “I do not live in the forest. I live in the Flatlands... but the bad people came and drove me away. So now I hide here.” “That’s where I’m going, Spider.” Piper sat up. “I need to see the – I need to see the bad people. That’s why I have to leave the forest.” She locked her gaze onto one of Spider’s eight eyes. “Please help me find a way outside.” He looked hesitant. “I have not seen sunshine for many full-moons. I do not even know if I can recall the way out.” “Please.” “Alright, girl, I will help you. You are the first person I have spoken to in countless full- moons, so please promise me this: let us meet again one day soon.” “I promise.”

The beast took her from the clearing and wound her around the tree trunks until she had been lost by their complicated route out. “It should not be long before we get there... you are sure you wish to go outside?” “I’m sure – but thank you.” Spider tensed. He seemed to have noticed something. His eight eyes blinked simultaneously. “I hear someone... they are worried. They are close.” Piper stopped, too, and tried to hear what Spider could hear. She could not. “It is a boy, and he is... he is looking for you. He is coming nearer.” Piper noticed a shape moving from behind the trees. Was it Rhaine, come looking for her? And then he was there, standing right in front of her. The boy yelped and flew backwards. “What are you doing here?” He panted, hand steadying his fluttering heart. “I was running away. I don’t want to help you.” “But how did you know that this was the way back to your caravan? I was sure that we took a very complicated route to camp.” “I didn’t. It was Spider...” Piper turned to look for the beast, but he had somehow vanished. She hadn’t even heard him leave. Rhaine scuttled up to Piper, not unlike Spider himself, and carefully took her hand again. “Please come back with me. I promise you can leave – it is just that Bastian wants to give you something.” “I still don’t understand why I should help you, though.” “Because we saved your mama. Do you not remember?” “Yes, I remember, Savage, I just don’t believe you. My mother never said anything to Father about it, and she told him everything.” “Just - just come back for a while, and then you can leave. Anyway, you will only be able to get out of the forest with our help.” “I don’t need your help. I managed to find my way just fine, didn’t I?” Rhaine’s worry lines appeared again. “Yes. You did, though I don’t know how.” “I just want to see Papa.” But Rhaine did not let go. “Please, Savage. I really want to see him. I... I miss him a lot.”

“It will only take a few hours.” Piper sighed dramatically. “Alright, I’ll come with you.” she said, and Rhaine looked relieved. “You will not regret it. When you see what Bastian has, I am certain you will be very happy.” “What does he have?” “I cannot tell you. he said to keep it a secret until you arrive.” Piper said no more. She let Rhaine take her back through the forest again, through the trees, through the bushes. Over the rocks, down ditches and up hillocks. She wondered to herself why she had let herself go back to the camp. She was certain that she despised everyone living there. What she didn’t want to admit to herself was that perhaps she liked the attention. Perhaps she liked feeling special. And perhaps – for the first time ever – she felt like she had friends.

15 Tessa’s Cr ystal

The lichen curtain was even more intimidating than it had been before. Piper watched Rhaine squeeze his way through with ease and tried to copy him. The girl closed her eyes and catapulted herself into the wall, and when she opened them next, she was inside Moon-Tribes camp once again. Like last time, the camp fell silent as everyone turned to look. Piper stood up confidently, deciding to show no fear. Even though her cheeks flushed, she held her head high and spotted Esther, who was gesturing at the chief’s tent. “It is wonderful to see you again, Piper.” The woman said. “Do go inside – although, be careful: he seems a little angry.” Piper opened the tent flap and entered. Bastian was, once again, working at his desk. He did not turn around to speak to her. “Where did you go?” His voice was thunderous. “I ran away. I didn’t want to help you.” “I thought you understood that we would all die if you ran away. I thought you agreed to help.” “I didn’t promise anything.” “And on the Day of Remembrance, of all times. Shame on you.” “Savage said you had something to give me.” Piper was trying to change the subject. She didn’t want to feel Bastian’s wrath, as much as she was pretending to be nonchalant. “I will give it to you once I am certain you will not leave again.” “I won’t.” “How can I be sure? You must make an oath.” Piper was exhausted. She didn’t want to follow the tribe’s silly superstitions. Frankly, she was tired of it all and just wanted to go to sleep. “Just give it to me. Savage said you would.” “Stop calling us savages!” Bastian turned around at last, face red, spittle foaming at his mouth. Piper stepped back. She felt frightened tears collecting in her eyes - the room went blurry. Bastian massaged his temples, calming himself.

“I will thank you to show a little respect to us. Rhaine saved you from the earthquake, or do you not remember? Anyway, as much as I would like to ask someone else, I cannot. You are the only one who can help us-” “I know that.” Piper whispered. “But one child can’t save a whole island.” The tears fell at last, and the girl shook with her liquid emotion. Esther came in from outside and tried to hug her, but Piper flinched and moved away. As if in understanding, the woman crept out, bringing Bastian with her, and left Piper alone in the tent. She was trying so hard to control herself, but the rage bubbled and fumed inside her heart, fit to burst. What went from quiet tears soon became coarse shouts, and Piper couldn’t stop herself. She didn't know how long she was in there - screaming and shouting, kicking the tent, hammering the floor with clenched fists - before she stopped and sat down on the canvased floor, weeping. The tears streamed down her face, and once they had started, Piper couldn't stop them. All of this rage had been building up inside her for quite some time, waiting beneath the surface until the right moment to escape her throat. “Piper?” The girl looked up and saw the shape of Esther standing in the entranceway. “Piper, it is time to eat. Please, come with me.” As much as the girl didn’t want to leave, she was hungry and too tired to resist, so followed Esther loyally to the large fire where many sat and talked. Over the fire there was a great iron pot, boiling some water. Piper approached the pot and eagerly inspected its contents, longing for something to eat. But instead, all she found were some shrivelled leaves, bobbing forlornly at the surface. “Food is scarce, so we flavour hot water with herbs.” Esther began spooning ladlefuls of the water into two bowls, and she and Piper sat down and drank. Despite its lack of sustenance, the warmth that the water gave the girl was comforting, and she soon found herself yawning. “Please, come back to our tent and sleep. You must be exhausted.” Piper answered Esther’s question with another yawn. She went back to the tent in the corner and lay down on her sleeping mat with a grunt. She tried to keep her eyes open, but it was so hard.

*** “Boat-girl. Wake up!” The savage was back again. Piper could see his shape through her squinted eyes. After

she did not reply, Rhaine grabbed her shoulders and shook her hard. “Go away.” “Bastian wants to see you again, though I do not know why. Everyone was looking at him when you had that outburst. Just hurry, or else he will punish you.” Piper got to her feet slowly, sleepily, and managed to find her way, half-conscious, to the chief’s tent. Inside, she saw Bastian working still. She wondered if the man would talk about yesterday. For some reason, though, he seemed to have completely forgotten about it. “I thought I said I would not tolerate such laziness?” he said humourlessly “Come here; I have something to give you.” In his hands were two pieces of wrinkled paper. They were small, like the pages of a diary, and the text on them was written by hand. The handwriting was curly and reminded her of her mother’s book of stars. Unless... “This is the only proof we have that Lillianna visited us. It is a page of her diary, one that fell out by chance on the day she left. Rhaine told me you still do not believe us, so I have decided to give it all to you. I realise now how stupid it was of me not to give them to you when you first arrived; I suppose, at the time, they seemed too precious to give away. Take them, read them, and maybe then you will not be so doubtful.” Piper took the old diary pages with trembling fingers. The moment they made contact with her fingers, she could tell that it was very old, and it took the breath from her lungs. It was wonderful, seeing her mother’s handwriting again; it filled Piper with joy. She thought back to the many hours she would sit huddled with her father, reading Lillianna’s diaries and hearing of her travels, marvelling at her bravery. And now here she was again, in the middle of a forest. “Go to your tent and look at it. Though do not be long; there are jobs to be done.” Piper crept back across the camp and settled into Esther’s tent. Looking at the paper, she found herself frightened of what she was about to see. Piper unfolded the pages carefully and began to read.

Day 6 – Tuesday Weather: Fair Lillianna Morning, Adventurer.

I still can’t believe the Hartlanders exist. It seems impossible – and yet they’re healthy and happy, and completely unaware of Britton and everyone living there. But so were we of them, I suppose. The mind boggles. I wonder if there are more islands, waiting to be discovered?

This morning, we went to the Flatlands again and killed (and cooked) some more Star-ponies for breakfast. That taste of fresh meat will never go stale. At sometimes, I forget to miss the world of Britton, with its thick clouds and close quarters, but then I remember Piper and Xavier and I realise how urgently I need to return. I miss them a lot. I hope they are not too worried. After breakfast, I asked Nyssa to show me some more of their magic, and it turns out their medicine is far more advanced than ours. For them, a broken leg is like a runny nose. Their healer – I believe her name was Esther – helped me to heal the gash on my arm, without even needing a bandage. She was a fantastic woman, not much younger than me, and we became friends quickly. She has a little boy with beautiful brown hair who looks the same age as Piper. I wonder if they’ll ever meet. I hope so. Then, I was taken across the hills to see some of The Hartlands’ rock samples, which were fascinating. To be specific, there was one particular crystal, or stone, which I found, that Nyssa said was sacred to their culture. Apparently, she said, it was enchanted. She said the crystal has special properties that can both heal and harm depending on whatever magic is used. It sounds dangerous! Tonight, we are holding a remembrance service for all who have died this year. I am thrilled to be allowed to take part in the event and look forward to meeting some more people. My raft is being built as we speak, too. I do help out, but it’s obvious that they know what they’re doing, so I try to keep out of their way. With every day, I know I am closer to getting home, closer to joining our cultures, closer to seeing Piper again. I’ve never missed someone so much. Will write more tomorrow.

The second diary page fell from Piper’s grasp, and she caught it instinctively. On closer inspection, however she realised it wasn’t diary page at all, but a photograph. It was of a young woman, with chocolate-y brown skin and black hair. Humorous eyes that sparkled, and lips that seemed to never stop smiling. Lillianna Morning. The photograph was of Piper’s mother. She hadn’t seen her face in years. Photographs were expensive and Xavier had lost the only one he had when they had moved years ago. Only now did Piper realise how much she looked like Lillianna: the same hair, the same skin, the same smile. Only now did Piper feel some kind of longing: like an aching in her heart. An aching for something she’d never had. A love that she’d never experienced. Piper had somehow got something in her eye. She blinked away her tears, not noticing when they splashed onto the pages and sank into the paper. She got up slowly, so as not to buckle under her own weight, and hobbled outside of the tent. Esther was waiting outside and was shocked when Piper tumbled weakly into her arms and began to sob. The tears were ugly as they fell down her face, and Esther wiped them away with a

tender finger as Piper gulped at the air. “I know it is hard to see her again, but Bastian felt it was vital to prove to you we were being truthful. Lillianna gave that photograph to us before she left, saying she would meet us again one day.” Piper tried to say something, but her words were smothered by the sobs. For a while, the two stood in that embrace. Piper didn’t know why she wasn’t pulling away. It felt nice, having someone show love to her in this way: Xavier thought that hugs were too informal. She looked right and saw Rhaine standing near her. His expression was a mixture of anger and sadness, and Piper saw his face go red. He turned and walked away stiffly, and Piper looked up at Esther’s face. “You should probably talk to him. Seeing as you will be spending so much time together, making amends would be a good idea.” Piper nodded and followed they boy as he went across the camp and behind one of the trees bordering it. The girl peered her head around the trunk of the tree and found Rhaine rubbing his eyes hard. “Rhaine?” The boy jumped and covered his face. “Go away! You cannot see me like this.” He mopped his face and tried to wipe away the drips that were coming from his eyes. He climbed to his feet. Piper looked at him carefully and wondered why she had been so angry. It wasn’t his fault that he never told her about Lillianna, not really. Perhaps she had been too blunt. “Why are you crying?” She asked him, as gently as she could. “I am not.” Rhaine protested, crying a little harder. “I am just – I am just angry. For tens of full-moons everyone has been talking about you, saying how important you are, ever since I was six four-seasons old. And when Lora Bianca told me that I should be the one who would bring you here, I was so excited. I had heard so much about you, about what you would do. I wondered if we might be...” The boy seemed as reluctant to say the words as Piper had been. The word ‘friend’ was somewhat a taboo in Piper’s vocabulary. The many lonely years she had spent in her school had buried a word like that deep inside her. She had told herself she didn’t need friends, for they could only disappoint her. She would never let herself admit that she had always been missing someone, a person to talk to, to share everything with. So, she spent her time thinking by herself instead, and it was the reason her imagination had never faded. “And then you arrived, and I saw you with your papa, and I was so nervous. And then

I met you, and – and here we are.” Rhaine had some snot running from his nose, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. “So why are you crying?” “It’s just – you're so annoying!” Rhaine started crying again, and Piper gasped. She felt she should be angry for the boy being so rude, but instead - before she could stop herself - she realised she was laughing. “What is it?” The boy was baffled. He quickly checked to see that he had nothing on his face. “I know I’m annoying. Everyone does. Sometimes I annoy myself!” Piper kept giggling, even when she tried to stop herself. Rhaine looked at her funnily, and although it came in spurts, soon he was laughing too, hands on his stomach, cackling loudly. The two sat behind the tree trunk, and when the laughter died Piper would say something and the children would start again. The moment felt timeless, and Piper never wanted it to end. After many minutes of pushing and rough-housing, Piper remembered something. She reached into her shoulder bag and brought out the necklace of crystal that Charles Hathoway had given her. “I’m sorry for breaking your last necklace. But it's alright, because I got another one for you. I know it’s not as precious as the one before, but it’s the best I can do.” She handed the necklace over, and Rhaine blinked. His outstretched hand froze in mid- air. His sparkling eyes faded. “Where did you get that?” The boy asked. His face paled. “The leader of the expedition gave it to me. What’s wrong? Do you not like it?” “Bastian...” Rhaine snatched the necklace from Piper’s hands and, seeming to have forgotten the girl altogether, pushed passed her and sprinted to Esther. “Mother! Mother! Get Bastian!” Esther glanced at the necklace dangling in Rhaine’s hands, glanced back at Piper, and ran off to the chief’s tent. The boy’s eyes were clouded with worry, and his hands were shaking. Piper creeped from behind the trunk, confused. Bastian came out from his tent, and took the necklace from Rhaine’s hands, careful not to drop it. He inspected the crystal carefully. “It must be what caused the earthquake.” The chief thought out loud. He looked up, spotting Piper half-hiding by the tree, and called her over. The girl couldn’t tell if he was angry or just very worried. “How did you find it?” Bastian challenged her. “I don’t know,” Piper pondered, “Charles Hathoway gave it to me. I don’t want it, so

I’m giving it to Rhaine.” “No, I am asking you how you got it. This crystal is not only priceless, but more dangerous than anything else on the island.” “I don’t understand-” “Just answer the question!” A vein stood out on Bastian’s shiny forehead. Piper paused. “A few weeks after we arrived, one of the archaeologists was digging in the prairie, and came across a vein of crystal. We were all really excited, because in Britton we’ve already mined all of it, so we started digging it up. That necklace was given to me because Father is one of the heads of the operation.” Bastian took one long, deep breath. As his nostrils flared aggressively, he put his head in his hands. “How much has been dug up already?” The man asked the girl, who thought hard. “Quite a lot, I think. They’ve been working really fast.” She didn’t understand why everyone was acting so frightened. It didn’t seem at all like it mattered. “That crystal is cursed.” Bastian began. “It has been for centuries. Many four-seasons ago, Mother Ula, the matriarch of the island, had a child named Tessa. This child was both clever and kind and grew up to be a strong young woman. “Tessa was brave, and worked every day: hunting, growing and chopping wood. She made sure that her mother and her seventeen siblings were well-fed and cared for. “One fateful day, however, a monster came and attacked her family’s camp. Tessa sent her brothers and sisters, and her elderly mother, into the tent to hide, while she faced the beast. “Tessa fought hard, but her life was not to be. She struck the beast and it toppled. Though as it collapsed, it felled her, too. With a shout, Tessa was thrown to the ground, and she and the beast bled to death next to one another. “Mother Ula came from her tent to see her eldest child dead, and she was devastated. Weeping, she brought Tessa into her arms and prayed to the Island Spirit to spare her daughter. “The Island Spirit sensed Mother Ula’s love for the child, and decided to be kind. She sent her seven arms down to pluck Tessa from the arms of her mother and buried her in the ground. “The Island Spirit sent rains down onto the patch of dug earth, and soon a tree sprouted there. The tree grew thick and fast, and Mother Ula and her children nurtured it every day. “Seven four-seasons later, the tree was full-grown, and the children of Ula gathered around to marvel at its beauty. Seven days on, and the tree began to bear fruit. Not normal fruit, like cherries or cranberries, but crystal-fruit. This crystal-fruit could not be

eaten but seemed to grant good luck to whomever touched it. The siblings would pick these fruit and thread them through necklaces to give them good fortune. “The siblings found that it was not just the fruit that was made of the crystal, but the roots, too. As the tree grew, so did its roots, and one day while digging, one of the siblings found that the roots of the tree had grown so long they had curled to a stop half a mile away. The crystal roots did not look unlike veins, and they did not stop extending until the whole of the island was covered in them. “The first truth-teller (and youngest of the siblings), Adela Rostra, was sent a vision that Tessa’s soul lay sleeping in the roots of the tree. She realised that every crystal-fruit the tree produced was, in effect, a piece of Tessa’s soul. She told her siblings this, and they agreed to no longer pick the crystal-fruit; they wanted Tessa’s soul to stay in the roots, not hung in bits around their necks. “As the four-seasons passed, a forest grew around this tree, and Tessa’s siblings built their camps in this forest. The trees were just as healthy and beautiful as the first, with glistening silver bark and leaves that shone with every ray of light. In those days, everyone was happy. “Meanwhile, on the other side of the island, another tribe was growing. The Hartland’s Patriarch, Sapu, had also birthed many children, who had built their camps in the Flatlands. They saw the forest of Ula’s children, and they were jealous. Sapu’s eldest, Tabitha, did not believe in happiness. She was selfish and wanted the best for her tribe. She had heard of the luck that Tessa’s tree would grant, so she made a plan, and that night they attacked the forest and the camps within it. Many died protecting their sister’s tree, though they died proudly. “Thankfully, Tessa’s tree was not harmed, and continued to produce her crystal fruit. “But the chief of Ula’s children, Jacobus, knew that they were not protected from future attacks, so travelled seven days to the Arachnids that lived in the mountain. “He came to the mountain and asked for their help. He cried out: ‘My people are terrified. Please do whatever you can to protect us’, and the Lah told him he would use his magic to do just that. “As he had promised, King Ho-Arlah, the Lah at the time, used his magic and put a spell on Tessa’s forest. A blanket of safety was lowered over the trees, a blanket of endless night. This blanket befell the forest and protected it from both storms and earthquakes. “What Ho-Arlah did not tell Jacobus, was that in order to protect the people from attackers, he decided to put a curse on the crystal. The king thought that if Tessa’s fruit became less appealing, the people would not be in danger. “He knew that picking a crystal-fruit removed a little piece of Tessa’s soul from the roots. In return, the curse made it so that the thief who took the crystal would lose some of their soul to the tree instead.

“The longer the thief stares at the crystal, the more their soul is sucked inside. “By the time two weeks have passed, the thief will forget who they are and spend all their time trying to protect their crystal, even if it costs them their life. After all, they hold a piece of their spirit in their hand. “At last, the thief is left soulless, all but a husk of who they once were, and doomed to spend the rest of their life wandering the island, sanity a faraway dream.” “That is why we are so worried, Piper.” Esther chipped in. Her voice was stern. “We are worried for your peoples’ lives. If we do not intervene soon, they will all lose themselves to the crystal and you will never be able to go home.” “But how come digging up the crystal was what caused the earthquake?” "Because - the story says - although Tessa’s siblings were allowed to pick the trees magical fruit, they were not allowed to carve it out from Tessa’s roots. If they did, the Island Spirit would send fires and lightning storms down to ward them away. The siblings soon learnt to stay away from all but her produce.” “So, you see...” Rhaine started, worried that Piper might glare at him. When all she did was look at him with wide, wild eyes, he continued. “... That’s the only reason the Island is so angry. Your people have been digging up Tessa’s roots, and she has woken to tell you to stop.” “My father...” Piper trailed off. What would become of her papa? “It wasn’t just me who was given a necklace like this. My father was, too. Is he in danger as well?” “I am afraid so.” Suddenly all those times Piper had seen Xavier blankly staring at his necklace made sense. “You said it took only two weeks for the crystal to take over.” Piper thought, “It hasn’t yet been two weeks since the earthquake. Do you think there is still time to save Father?” Esther nodded, smiling. “Of course. But you must hurry.” Bastian looked up, and said suddenly, “But we will only help you if you promise to help us, too.” Esther pierced the man with a disapproving gaze. Piper should have known they wouldn’t be so kind. She pondered for a few moments. “Alright,” She stood up and shook hands with Bastian, who seemed baffled at the exchange. “I will help you. I will go to Charles Hathoway’s house and try to convince him to leave. And I will truly try, I swear. But only if you lead me out of the forest and help me help my father first.” Rhaine stood up, too. “So, you are saying: we go to your father and tell him about the crystal, and then we travel to the leader’s house and convince him to leave.” Rhaine looked expectantly at his mother, who did not protest.

“That is a fair deal.” Piper noticed a tiny light of excitement glow in his eyes.

*** The next morning, Piper and Rhaine were prepared for their journey. Although the natives hadn’t any food for them, they had filled two cloth pouches with enough water for a day. Esther had said there would be plenty of streams to fill up on along the way. Piper had her shoulder bag with her pens and notebooks tucked inside, and Rhaine had his knapsack full of medicines and herbs. Across his back was a Silverwood bow and a quiver of arrows, gifted to him by Bastian along with the words: “Do not let her get inside your head. Do not let her lead you astray: you have a job to do.” “Goodbye Mother, I will see you soon.” The boy gave Esther a quick hug, seemingly not embarrassed at showing affection in public. Many had gathered to watch the children leave. Esther kissed her son goodbye, and then came over and did the same to Piper. “I know you might hate us,” She whispered, “But I will always love you, Piper. Your mother was the best friend I have ever had, and I will protect you to honour her. Be brave, child of Lillianna.” She stepped away from the girl, smiling, and coughed to signal that someone was behind her. Piper turned and saw Lora Bianca waiting expectantly, blindfold over her scars. “Piper Morning, I have come to say goodbye.” The woman smiled for the first time since they had met. The skin around her mouth wrinkled, and although she had no eyes, Piper could tell they would have been shining. “I wanted to say how proud I was of you for deciding to help us, for it takes courage. I am proud of you even if your decision was influenced by a little bribery.” Humour in the form of a smirk fell lightly to her lips. “Do not let this bravery wither: nurture it, like we nurture Tessa’s tree. I sense you will need it very soon.” The teller took hold of Piper’s hand and kissed it gently. “Remember: you are loved, no matter what you think. Lora Bianca smiled once, turned and was swallowed up by the crowd who were clapping and crying all at the same time. It seemed these desperate people finally felt as though they had some hope, someone to count on, something to believe in. Piper sneaked a glance at Rhaine, who was receiving similar praise from the people around him, and he had turned bright red. At the same time as she looked at him, he looked at her, and before she could stop herself, Piper was grinning hard at her companion, and Rhaine grinned back. “Are you ready?” he said to her as he shifted his knapsack and put on some leather shoes. They were strapped, seemingly old and buckled at the side with a metal clasp, and he offered Piper a pair. She put them on obediently. “Of course I’m ready. Are you?” Piper retaliated, chuckling. She and Rhaine walked

to the edge of the clearing and onwards through the trees, waving back at the camp as they left.

Part 3

Upper Hills

16 The Journey Begins

Three days had passed since they had left, Piper was tired and she felt Rhaine was, too. The girl hadn’t slept for two nights and could feel the pressure of exhaustion crushing down on her. She and Rhaine had been walking for a while now, following the swells of the hills. The camp they had set up tonight was in the crook of a hillock somewhere in the Upper Hills. Piper had told Rhaine that Xavier would be found somewhere North of the forest, seeing as the nearest coastline was by the mountain. She hoped that they would be lucky enough to find him out there somewhere, wherever that ‘where’ might be. For now, they just had to wait. Rhaine had seen something munching grass over the hills, and his face had lit up. He reached into his pocket and brought out his knife. Piper could sense the excitement in his breath: his eyes darted to the patch of shadow that was the animal. “It’s a Star-Pony.” He breathed. Carefully he crept, low in the grass, closer to the animal, stilling a grumbling form his belly as Piper’s answered in return. She hoped with all her heart the boy was doing what she thought he was doing. Almost as if he wasn’t thinking, Rhaine danced his way across the ground, light as anything, silent as a gaze. He wiped his sweating palm on his skirt, eyes not once leaving the unknowing creature as it chewed its way through blade after sun-kissed blade of grass. The sound of its teeth grinding the dew-y plant was comforting. Piper had spent too many hours in the silent confines of the forest. Rhaine took the bow from his back, selecting an arrow with his fingers and preparing the weapon to shoot and squinting one eye. He cocked, pointing it at the pony. Then he let go, and the arrow cut through the air like a knife, slicing through the skin of the creature easily. The firefly pony fell to the ground, writhing. It let out a strangled scream, squealing loudly, which made Piper cover her ears. It wasn’t that she didn’t like seeing the animal in pain, just that she didn’t like the noise. Rhaine closed his eyes and put his palms to the sky, praying. “Oh, dear Island Spirit, please forgive me for inflicting this torture on an innocent creature. I will make use of every last hair to honour its sacrifice.” He opened his eyes, licking his lips, and scrambled to the now-still body of the pony. He took out his knife again and began to skin the creature, cutting it down the middle and peeling away the excess flesh. Expertly he cut his way through the entire animal until his hands were red and his prey was in pieces.

Piper, on the other hand, had gone completely white. Never had she seen someone be so enthusiastic at dismembering a living thing. She’d eaten meat on the mainland, of course, but she wasn’t the one cutting it into slices. That had been someone else’s job. Someone who was paid to stand in a stinking room for hours, readying up pieces of meat to eat and hanging them to dry in the window. Rhaine turned to face the girl, beaming. He’d never looked so happy as he called her over and enthusiastically began handing her bits of pink meat to carry over to their makeshift fire. She sat around the crackling flames as her companion roasted some of it for their dinner. She could only think of food. “I guess you’re happy to be back in the hills?” She asked, distracted herself from her empty belly. “I am. Truly.” Rhaine looked around, taking in his surroundings, breathing in the sweet smell of the air. It had been a shock to Piper to exit the forest and find that the skies had returned to their neutral blue. That awful night of the earthquake, it had seemed, would never end, and yet it appeared as if nothing had ever happened. It didn’t stop that terrible memory of that great crack-in-the-land haunting Piper’s sleepless nights, though. “I shall be glad to go back, even so.” The boy continued. “I have never been away for more than a day.” “Wuss.” Piper teased. “I was at a boarding school when I lived in Britton, and we weren’t allowed to see our parents for whole months.” “Not allowed to see your father?” “No; not even at the end of the week. I didn’t get homesick, though, because I never get homesick.” “I cannot imagine being forbidden to see Mother.” Rhaine didn’t want to think of terrible things like that, so he was thankful when Piper leaned forward, inspecting his knapsack and the herbs he used in his medicines. “How can you make it all?” She asked. “Mother has been teaching me for many four-seasons, I suppose, and I find it easy to pick up new recipes.” “But is it magic, I mean?” “Of course. What else would it be?” The boy laughed nervously. “Well, I’m just struggling to believe it exists, really.” Piper smiled, wistfully. “I’ve imagined it being real for so long, and you keep using the word as if magic’s something ordinary.” “You really did not know it existed? What do you have instead of magic, then? Life must be very boring.”

Piper laughed. “Oh, it is! We only have machines, and other than that we have to do everything ourselves. I suppose the closest thing we have to magic is steam-birds and trains, because they run on coal – which I think is really interesting. Papa rides on one every morning to go to work.” “What’s ‘work’?" Rhaine asked. Piper looked at him seriously, and then burst out laughing again. “First organisations and now work! You know very little about Britton, don’t you, Rhaine?" The boy grinned. This was the first time she had ever said his name with any kind of affection. “Work is where you go when you need money. You go every day, bar some Sundays, and you sit in a meeting room and talk about the economy. That’s what Father does, anyway." “All we really do is hunt and trade." Rhaine admitted, going pink. There fell a silence between them, and Piper looked at him as she had many times before: as if she thought he was a little soft in the head. But then she started giggling and he did too. This went on for quite a while, until Rhaine yelped, brought his burnt meat from out of the fire and handed it to Piper, smiling. “It is a little well-done.” he said as they tucked in heartily. Before they had left Moon-Tribe's camp, Rhaine had packed a little cloth tent in his knapsack for sleeping in. So, when he and the girl had eaten their fill, they climbed inside and nestled uncomfortably next to each other, sharing breath. “Could you move over?” Piper whined. “You’re making my leg sleepy.” Rhaine grunted, and reluctantly turned onto his side. “You’re the one that’s hogging the whole thing.” He muttered, though quietly, so she wouldn’t hear. “I’m so tired... why couldn’t we just sleep under the stars like proper adventurers?” “Because - because -” Rhaine sighed. “you know why. If we slept out in the open, who could tell what kind of beasts would try to attack us?” “There aren’t as many beasts in the hills other than that wolf you showed me weeks ago. We’d be fine.” “Just be quiet and go to sleep.” Rhaine snapped, crossing his arms as he lay. The boy closed his eyes and listened to the crickets that chirped their evening choirs. It felt good to be back: back amongst the grasses and the fresh breeze, the babbling streams. Even if he was unable to go back home for a while, the open air truly made him feel like he belonged. “Thank you for helping me.” Piper said suddenly, without expecting to.

“Helping you do what?” “For saving me on the night of the earthquake. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be long dead.” Rhaine shuffled on his back to face her until their noses were almost touching. “It is alright. I had to save you, anyway, or else all those weeks I spent putting up with you would have been for nothing.” “Shut up.” Piper pushed him onto his back, scowling. “I suppose I should say thank you, as well. I was too proud to admit to your quick- thinking when we met that Jaguah. If you had not done anything, I am sure we would both be dead.” “You’re right, Rhaine. I was very clever.” “I suppose that means we have both saved each other’s lives now, does it not?” “Let’s call it quits, then.” Piper squeezed her hand out from under her stomach and offered it to Rhaine to take. “Quits.” The boy said, shaking hard.

17 Tasting the Sea

They opened each other’s eyes at the same time the next morning, laughing when they saw the other. “Good morning.” Rhaine sat up in the small space, stretching. “I shall cook some more of that meat for breakfast.” He had to manoeuvre his way out of the tent, twining himself around Piper’s feet and wiggling out of the small flap. Despite Piper’s protests last night, the girl was happy that they hadn’t slept outside. A rain had come in the night and turned the ground around the tent to mud. Once Rhaine had left, Piper sat up too, relieved to finally have more space. She stretched her bloodless limbs and took a moment before she left the safe confines of the canvas and went into the harsh light of the dawn. The sun filtered its rays through thick clouds and warmed the air even though its face could not be seen. A light breeze ran its fingers through Piper’s hair, reminding her of the many days she had spent playing. Those days seemed so long ago. The days before Rhaine, before the forest, before the photo. The photograph of Lillianna Morning was tucked carefully in Piper’s trouser pocket, and every so often, she would reach in and trace her fingers across the old paper, desperate to see her face one last time. But she knew she could not: knowing her, if she took the photo out, she would surely leave it somewhere and forget it forever. The girl found Rhaine re-lighting the fire from last night and readying the meat for cooking. “Today is probably the last day we can eat this,” The boy said, washing his hands with some spring-water. “so, eat up well. We may not get another meal for a while.” Piper sat down eagerly, mouth watering, but was sent off by Rhaine to collect some leaves for their meal. Piper trudged down the hill to get it all, scanning the endless green to see if she could spot it. There were the shoots of curlweed, sprouting just above the earth. Piper scrambled down the hill to pick it, grabbing it roughly with her fists. She couldn’t wait to eat. Running back up to the tent, Piper dropped the plant at Rhaine’s feet, who, looking at her with a slightly odd expression, deposited it into the two bowls. “You must be very hungry.” he said lightly. “Absolutely. I’m starving.” Piper grabbed her seasoned meat and tore off a large piece, spluttering as she choked on the huge chunk of gristle she’d just inhaled.

“Eat slowly.” Rhaine said, taking small nibbles from his own piece. “Savour it. Appreciating food is a rule all of us must follow. If we do not appreciate the meat we eat, the Island Spirit becomes angry.” “Why?” Piper asked, mouth full, chewing with gusto. “Because I just killed an innocent creature that did not deserve to die. I must appreciate its nutrients to make up for it.” “That’s stupid.” Piper said, not noticing when Rhaine’s mouth fell open. “At home we just eat. We don’t need to pray or anything, and it’s so much easier. You should try it.” Rhaine burst out with a hysterical “Ha!”, even though he found her remarks offensive. “You are so insensitive!” He kicked her with his bare foot, and Piper mocked pain. “Rhaine, do we have to keep walking today? I’m so bored of having to do the same things every day.” Rhaine rolled his eyes. “You tell me. Do you have any idea where your papa could be? The sooner we find him, the sooner we can start my side of the bargain.” Piper contemplated, still chewing on her gristle. “Like I said, I’m not sure. he said he was going to the coast, somewhere North, but that’s all I know. I’d say if we just keep heading in the direction of the cliffs, we’ll find him eventually.” Rhaine nodded and began gathering up the tent. Piper finished off her food, collected the bowls and washed them in the river. Together, they packed up the knapsack and dismantled the fire, putting the flint safely in Piper’s pocket. After everything was ready, the children set off, trailing down the hill and across the grasslands. The Upper Hills were very different to the prairie where Piper lived. Instead of the grass growing tall and golden-brown, it was lush and green. There were no prairie hares, only firefly ponies and small voles. The land was not flat here but blemished with hills that peppered the landscape for miles. In the distance Piper could see the great mountains, closer than she ever could before. They shot up tall into the sky, rocky and covered with a perfect blanket of snow. Even though the hills were not far from the prairie, they seemed alien to Piper. She was making the most of the views, though, by chasing small animals and pressing petals into her book of botany. At one point she forced Rhaine to race her up a particularly tall hill, making both of them very out of breath and red in the face. “Someday soon I shall die,” Rhaine panted, “And it will all be because of you. Why did you make me run up here?” The boy looked upwards and flopped down onto the grass. Piper came and lay down next to him. The sky was blue today, almost cloudless, and extended to all four corners of the

horizon. The sun shone onto the children's faces, and a breeze cooled Rhaine’s burning cheeks. He rested his head onto one side, and saw Piper staring at him intently. “I’m sorry for being so rude to you for all those weeks.” She muttered, going almost as red as him. “I think I was afraid of you, and that was why I was so awful.” “I know.” Rhaine looked at her and smiled, though sadly. “I still do not forgive you though.” Piper nodded slowly to show her understanding. “You don’t have to forgive me if you don’t want to.” she said, when suddenly she started to chuckle. “What is wrong?” Rhaine sat up. Piper couldn’t help herself; she had to take deep breaths to calm down. “I’ve never had to apologise to anyone before,” She squealed. “It sounds so fake. I always thought apologies were meant to be sincere, but it was like we were reading off a script.” Rhaine laughed a little, too. “Now that we have got that over with, shall we go and paddle in the river for a while?” The children heaved themselves up and tumbled down the hill, splashing bare-footed into the cold water. Rhaine screamed as the freezing wet enveloped his toes, and tried to run out, but was caught by Piper and they had a heated wrestling match. The boy pulled Piper’s foot out from under her by mistake, and the two of them fell backwards and went under head-first. They sat floundering for few seconds, desperate to get out. The children clambered up onto the bank of the river and played a game of ‘catch-girl’ to warm themselves up. Piper had to show Rhaine how to play it, but he picked it up quickly and they had the best game she’d ever had. Piper had never played games with anyone else before. By dusk the two of them were understandably exhausted and sat down to catch their breath under the shadow of a cloud. “Feel my heart!” Rhaine’s hand was placed firmly over his chest. “It has never beat this fast before, even when we were being chased by the Jaguah. What in Ula’s name have you done to me?” “You’re a wimp. I ran twice as hard as you and I’m not nearly as tired.” “Perhaps. But you are not the one who has been stuck inside a forest for the past few months. With a little practice, I am sure I could beat you in a race.” Piper smirked, eyes lighting up. “You’re sure?” She mocked, and Rhaine returned her smile. “I am certain.” “Fine, then. Get up, let me see you run. No, not like that. Sprint! Come on, Rhaine, don’t be a coward.” She pulled the boy up and they ran about the grass, shouting abuse

at each other as they tried to outrun the other. “You might have speed, but I have stamina.” Rhaine said smugly, jogging around her in circles. “What a pathetic excuse,” The girl pushed passed him and demonstrated. “you’re only saying that because you know I’m better.” “You are only saying that because you know you can never be as good!” The companions laughed and shrieked and spun their way Northwards, closer and closer to the coast. As night fell, and the first twinkling stars showed their faces, the children had neared the cliffs. They ran to a stop and stood still on top of a grassy mound, tasting the salt on their tongues and the sea-breezes on their faces. “I’ve only been to the seaside once: when I was little. It was when Mama was still alive, and we went together on a coach. We had iced cream and oiled potatoes, and Papa said I dropped mine, so he gave me his. I wish I could remember it.” “I have never been to the sea. Moon-Tribe likes to stay near Tessa’s tree, but I have always wanted to feel sand. Lora Bianca says it feels wonderful.” “I’m sure it does.” “Do you think your papa will have made a camp on the beach?” “Probably, but I can’t see anything from here. No,” Piper screwed her eyes close. “Actually, I can, look – can you see that black smudge on the sand? What is it?” “It looks like a rock, but it is a little too small to tell. If your papa made a camp it would be a different shape to that. He will have lit a fire by now, anyway.” They wound their way down the slope as the ground became less and less earthy. What once had been mud was replaced with sand and pebbles. They pushed through the salt bushes and beach grass, the smell of the sea stinging in their nostrils. As they neared the cliffs they broke into a run, desperate to reach the lapping waves. Then they had arrived, and Piper sprinted into the water, screaming and splashing and soaking herself through. Rhaine hang back, uncertain of whether he should follow, but was pulled in by Piper. “Stop! I cannot swim!” He shouted, and Piper let go, taking him seriously at last. “Oh. I’m sorry, I should’ve realised.” She helped him back out of the waves and they lay on the warm sand. “I’ve been able to swim since I was three. Father would take me to the Leisure Baths on his days off and I would have lessons. I can teach you, if you want.” “That would be-” Rhaine was cut short. His eyes had caught something resting on the rocks. “The black smudge.” he said and pointed to something. Piper turned around, expecting to see a camp.

But instead she saw an explorer’s caravan, much like her own. “What is that doing here?” It was small, a little smaller than the one she had lived in, but mostly the same. Its lights were off; curtains drawn; door shut, and at a glance it looked uninhabited. But the girl could see movement from through the stained-glass window. She got to her feet and marched up to it, readying herself to knock. “What are you doing, Piper?” Rhaine called after her. “Father might be inside!” She shouted back, not slowing. She walked up to the door and knocked smartly three times. A scuffling from inside told her they were not alone, and then the door was opened to reveal a squat man standing behind it. He was small and fat, with a greying combover and small round glasses. He wore a white-and-red striped shirt, unbuttoned at the top, and corduroy trousers. His outfit was a perfect likeness to Charles Hathoway’s, and although Piper could not believe what she was seeing, she recognised this man immediately. “Mr Roberts!” The girl exclaimed, dumb-founded. The little man, saying nothing, swooned a little and fainted right on the doorstep.

18 Floridel Roberts

When the little man came to, the children had dragged him back into his caravan, lit an oil-lamp and put a cold cloth to his forehead (all of which being Rhaine’s doing. Piper had wanted to tie the man up and interrogate him). Upon spotting the two dirty children inside his house, the man started, letting out a little yelp. “Science save me!” he said shakily, putting a hand to his heart. “What are you doing in my house?” Piper evaded the question. “More importantly: what are you doing alive?” She asked him, still unable to believe that the man whom she’d presumed was dead for months was now lying in front of her. The poor man tried to answer, made a noise, and burst into tears. Rhaine went over and comforted the shaking bundle of fancy cloth, patting his head as Mr Roberts wiped away his tears with a handkerchief. “Forgive me, children,” He choked. “Don’t apologise. Just tell us how come you’re still alive.” The man wasn’t in any mental state to answer, for tears continued to stream down his face. He looked like a child. “Floridel Roberts, answer the question!” “You don’t understand!” The man wailed, clutching his face. “I had no choice! he said that, if I helped him, I could go home and see my Issy again.” “Your... Issy?” Mr Roberts sniffled. “My wife, Issadora. I miss her so much, and he said that if I did what he asked of me, I could see her.” “Who are you talking about?” The man shook his head hard. “It’s too shameful. I cannot say.” Piper rolled her eyes, giving up. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Have you seen my father, Xavier Morning, anywhere? I’m sure he said he was going to the coast.” A paleness came to Mr Robert’s face. His hands – which were clasped tightly on his lap – began to shake again. “No, no I haven’t seen him. Who are you even talking about?” The man tried his best to smile blankly but failed and he broke into a grimace. He glanced away from Piper and laid his eyes to rest on the boy standing next to her.

“What is he doing here?” He asked, narrowing his eyes. A sweat broke on his forehead, giving away his fright. “This is Rhaine, a native. He and I are companions.” The man laughed, clearly not believing them. “What dear ones you are. Take that costume off, child.” Rhaine gasped, deeply hurt. “It’s not a costume!” he said, “It was my father’s! He made it himself when he was only a boy. These feathers were plucked from a sky-goose's back; they are very valuable.” The sweat trickled down Mr Robert’s face, and dripped onto his lap. “Oh no.” There was a clear quiver in his voice. “Oh no, he can’t be here. If Charles comes and sees you, he’ll punish me for sure.” The man finally got to his feet, knees knocking, and started shooing the boy out the door. “Come on, boy! Hurry! I’m expecting Dr Hathoway tomorrow; you cannot stay.” “Oh, please!” Piper wept, an outburst that surprised both Rhaine and Mr Roberts. She throbbed with mock-sadness. “Me and my friend are so tired. Can we stay one night?” The man seemed torn. He glanced once at the boy; then at the girl, and sighed hard, as if all the woes of the world were on his shoulders. “Fine. You may stay a night. One of you will have to sleep on the sofa, the other on the floor. I am not sacrificing the comforts of my own bed.” He scuttled away to his own room, and Piper and Rhaine were left alone. “Oh, and you mayn’t touch anything! It’s all very expensive, so be careful.” The two children looked at each other and hugged hard, rejoicing. "A whole night in a warm caravan!” “Even despite his kindness, he frightens me.” Rhaine murmured. “You say you thought he was dead?” “I do.” Piper checked to make sure they were alone. “I was told that he went into the forest to try and talk to the savages, and they captured him. Apparently, he never came out, so we all assumed he’d been killed and eaten.” Rhaine couldn’t help but let out a snort. “I still cannot believe you thought we did that.” “Do you think he faked his death?” “Perhaps - but why? He does not seem brave enough to do that on his own.” They were interrupted when Mr Roberts entered the room again, wearing blue silk pyjamas. He started again when he saw the children, like he’d forgotten they were there, and walked to the pump outside, muttering: “Floridel Roberts, you are too kind.” To himself all the way. Piper and Rhaine set themselves up for bed. To be friendly, Piper had let the boy have

the sofa, so she was currently lying on a bundle of blankets on the floor. Mr Roberts had come back inside now, and was heard pottering around his room, talking to himself every now and then. “Goodnight, Piper.” The boy yawned, settling down and shutting his eyes. Piper watched him thoughtfully, yawning herself. “Goodnight, Rhaine.” As the candlelight dimmed, the two children drifted off into slumber.

*** Piper was wrenched from her dreams by a clatter of something hitting the floor. Immediately she opened her sticky eyes, and groped around in the dark, looking for Rhaine. But where was he? She sat up, squinting hard, eyes adjusting. She was alone. Where had he gone? A cold draught told her that the caravan door was wide open, so, wrapping herself in blankets, Piper stood up and went to close it. She wondered if Rhaine had gone outside to clear his head, but when she went to take a look, all she could see was the sharp rocks, the gritty sand. Wet footprints had been marked in a line leading from the caravan somewhere near the beach, and Piper looked at them closely. These were not the footprints of a boy, but of a man. The sun had just started to rise and scattered its reflections across the waves. The sky was lit up with oranges and purples, and even in the dark it was beautiful. Piper clambered out of the caravan and down the rocks, following the prints. The sand was wet today, and her feet sank slightly with every step that she took. She tried to find where the footprints ended, but they seemed to continue all the way into the sea. She spotted a figure leaning over the waves, back turned, and Piper broke into a run. She slipped a little on the sand but managed to retain her balance as she skidded to a stop a few metres from the figure. She was close enough to tell now that it was Mr Roberts, and he had something in his arms. He crouched down and put a bundle of blankets into the wave, pushing it out and letting it float away. Piper caught her breath when she realised what it was. “Rhaine!” She screamed, and Mr Roberts turned around. He yelped, and flimsily tried to hold her back, but Piper pushed him out of the way. The bundle wriggled a little, and the terrified face of Rhaine appeared at one end. He seemed utterly bewildered, but spotted Piper waiting on the shore, and he woke fully. The boy struggled in his blankets but began to sink. He floundered in the water, trying to stay afloat.

Piper didn’t know what to do. The shape of Mr Roberts was lying, dazed, on the sand, so she did the only thing she could: Piper took of her socks, her shoes, and dived into the waves. The water enveloped her head snugly, and for a moment it was peaceful, until the shock of the cold hit her and Piper was forced to come up for air. The water was salty, different from the pool water in the Leisure Baths, and it made her splutter. She could see through her stinging eyes that Rhaine was slowly going under, trying his best to break free, but the tide was pulling him away and soon he would drown. Taking a breath, Piper ducked her head beneath the water again. Bubbles broke around her playfully, but this was no time to get distracted. The girl swam as quickly as she could, further and further into the water, deeper into the ocean. Current plucked at her wet shirt and tried to lead her off-course, but she pushed through, looking for the unmistakable shape of Rhaine. She came up for air again, blinded by the sun, looking for him, but saw nothing. She couldn’t bear to think what might have happened. As tears involuntarily began to merge with the seawater, Piper went under again and violently kicked herself to where she’d seen Rhaine last. The water was murky, and she couldn’t see much, but her eyes were drawn to a colourful tangle of blankets. Piper didn’t have time to go back up again; she kicked deeper, reaching out for something to grab onto. She found a limp hand amidst the mess and held onto it with all her strength. Black spots began to appear in her vision as she tried to tear away the fabric. Kicking harder than before, she dragged Rhaine’s body up to the surface, and just as she felt her heart cry out for air one last time, she broke through the skin of the water and oxygen filled her lungs. Rhaine’s head appeared above the sea a moment later, and Piper quickly drove him onto the beach, feeling weaker than ever.

19 Separation

After what felt like an eternity, the two children flopped onto the sand, and Rhaine coughed up what was left of the water in his lungs. He looked around, still woozy, and saw Piper leaning over him. “Did you – did you rescue me?” He wheezed; his eyes shiny with disbelief. Piper cried freely now, more out of relief than anything else. She wept close to the sand, desperate to hide her emotions from Rhaine. The boy sat up, breathing heavily and finally let his confusion take hold. “How did I even get there? I am sure I was in the caravan when I went to sleep.” Both of their eyes were drawn to Floridel Roberts, who was moping with his back to them. Feeling their gaze, he turned around, and began to blubber again. “I’m so sorry!” He wept and came to Rhaine to take his hand. Piper pushed it away angrily, giving the man her coldest stare. “You tried to kill him, didn’t you?” Mr Roberts didn’t try to lie. “Yes, I did. But you don’t understand – I had no choice!” “You’re a murderer.” “Well, strictly speaking, I didn’t drown the boy, so I’m not. You see, If Charles had come to my caravan and seen... him sitting on my sofa, I can’t imagine what dire punishments I’d face. I’m sure you understand.” “No, I don’t.” Piper fumed, standing face-to-face with the man, who took a step backwards. “N-no, you must. Charles knows you are missing, and if he came and saw you with me, I could tell him that I found you. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? He would be so proud of me.” Piper paused, horrified. “Charles Hathoway knows I’m missing?” “Ah - yes. I suppose he does.” He was stuttering again. “That must mean Papa went to him – it must mean he’s alive!” Piper forgot everything momentarily, rejoicing. Floridel Roberts looked uncomfortable again and took another step back. His eyes had focused on something coming down the cliff. Piper and Rhaine turned to see what he was looking at. Someone was tripping down the slope and coming towards them. “It’s Charles.” Mr Roberts grabbed both of the children by their wrists and dragged them across the sand. “Quickly, back to the caravan!” He took them to the door and

threw them hurriedly into his bedroom. “Stay in there and please do not make a sound.” Mr Roberts pleaded, before he shut the door and leaving them alone. He had crammed them underneath the desk in his room, and so there they sat, squashed up against each other, stunned. Piper scrambled over and pressed her ear against the glossy wood of the door. She heard a muttering coming from the other side. “Oh, Charles! What a... surprise. Please, do come in.” “Good morning, Floridel. Forgive me for being so early; I just couldn’t wait.” The distinctive sound of Charles Hathoway could be heard stepping inside and removing his blazer and boater. “How are you, then? Accustomed to your new life as a fugitive yet?” Mr Roberts tried to laugh, but the noise died and shrivelled up in his throat. He gurgled pathetically. “I suppose so, maybe. I mean – nothing has happened at all that’s of any interest, so I can’t say it’s been exciting.” “I see-” “Truly. Nothing has happened.” “Alright, then. But not to worry – only a week left before you can hop on that ship and leave here forever.” “And I’ll see my Issy again.” “Of course you will, chap. I shall send a letter to her in advance explaining the reasons for your return.” “You don’t think... you don’t think she’ll find me a coward?” “A coward? What gave you that idea! I think you’re very brave coming here in the first place. I’m sure she’ll understand.” Charles Hathoway chuckled, as if something about what he’d just said was funny. “Are you quite alright, Floridel?” Piper could hear the man peering at his colleague. “You seem off today. Is anything the matter?” Piper was forced to tear her ear away from the door when she heard Rhaine whispering to her. “Look, Piper! Mr Roberts has one of the pendants, too.” He crawled to her with the thing in his hands, trying his best not to look at it directly. “Do you think we should tell him that it’s dangerous? Perhaps everyone on your expedition has one of these!”

“I don’t-” Piper was looking at the pendant closely. It was swinging from a deep black ribbon and was scuffed severely all over. “That’s not Mr Robert’s. That’s my father’s!” She took the pendant and looked at the stone, shaking her head, refusing to believe it. “How can you tell?” “Look, there – when we were given them, dropped it and it broke. You can see where it chipped.” “So, that means your papa has been to this caravan. I found the pendant wedged under his desk, like it had been torn off him. Perhaps the two men fought.” “That’s unlikely; I can’t imagine two people less likely to fight with each other.” “You are sure?” “You haven’t met Father.” So, Xavier had been to the caravan, and Mr Roberts had been lying. Piper felt all the anger growing inside her, writhing and wrenching at her stomach. Perhaps the chances of Xavier being okay were slim, but she was not going to give up now. Here she had just received another clue, and she wasn’t going to let it go. Piper felt her mind clouding, being filled up with her instinct. She rose and made for the door. “Piper, no!” Rhaine exclaimed, and tried to stop her, but the girl would not be put off. She took hold of the door handle and stormed into the neighbouring room, furious. “You’re a liar, as well as a coward!” She howled, surprising both Mr Roberts and Dr Hathoway as she clattered past the antique pottery without caring when it fell to the floor and smashed. Mr Roberts took one look at the red-faced girl and immediately stood, face as white as paper. “Oh, m-my goodness! How d-did you get in, girl? Who are you?” “You’re pathetic!” Piper showed Mr Roberts the pendant in her fist, and the man looked like he was about to faint again. “When did you meet him? When did he come?” The man glanced at Dr Hathoway, bumbling stupidly. “The night of the first earthquake, I was woken by Xavier knocking on the door. He asked to stay for the night, and I said yes. Worst mistake of my life. He handed me that – he said to keep it away from him, though he didn’t say why. And then – and then-” “Oh, be quiet, you fool!” Charles Hathoway looked as though he could not believe what he was seeing, his eyes glassy with an intense blaze of either rage or fear. He surged forward and grabbed Piper by her collar. “I knew I’d find you at last. This is where you have been hiding, then?

Taken advantage of push-over Mr Roberts, have you?” “Let go of me, you monster!” Piper bit him on the hand, hard, and Charles reeled back, swearing furiously. “Child of the Ignorant!” Rhaine emerged from the bedroom, trying to be brave, although his hands were shaking. He ran to Piper and the two stood together, breathing in time. Piper had expected Charles to take one look at Rhaine and be afraid, like Mr Roberts or Xavier would have been, but instead, he only snarled. “What it that doing here?” Charles panted, holding his afflicted hand tightly. “He and I are companions, and if you are not careful, he will come at you and eat you like the savage his is.” Piper reached for Rhaine’s hand behind their backs and squeezed it gently, as a silent apology. “Make one move and he will take you by the arm and eat you until you’re all gone. And then, together, we will use your fleshy bones to make our necklaces, and you will hang around us until we die.” Her words did not have the desired effect. Charles’ eyes were sparkling with malice. “You think I believe you? You think I could be scared of that?” “Of course you are. He’s a savage.” Charles threw back his head and cackled, reminding Piper of the blood-curdling villains in her books. “Why is he not afraid?” Rhaine leaned in to whisper, but his words were too loud. “Because they’re all lies! Every single one of them!” Everyone was quiet. Even Mr Roberts, who had finally stopped swaying, listened intently. “There are no savages on this island, only natives. They aren’t cannibals, they don’t kill people and they are anything but vicious!” Rhaine had lost all of his fight, and felt his knees turning to sponge beneath him. “If you knew that, then why did you say it?” “Because fear unites. Fear gives purpose. Fear provides an enemy and brings people together. I came to this island and saw some peaceful natives, and it was the perfect excuse. We could not have made this much progress if it was not for the threat of the savages waiting on the doorstep. Everyone wants to get the job done quickly because everyone wants to go home! It was why Mr Roberts here was so useful. I knew for a long time he wanted to go back, so made a fair deal: if he faked his own death and pretended to have been killed by the savages, I would let him leave the island for good.” Mr Roberts’ eyes cleared at last, and his eyes brimmed with tears, which dripped onto his shirt.

“I was so bored.” He sniffed. “I was so bored, and so lonely. My job was to study the island’s culture, but the minute I arrived I was forbidden to do it at all. I was told it would be dangerous, that I’d be attacked. I spent days, weeks, months, sitting alone, doing nothing in my tiny caravan and I was so lonely...” Floridel Roberts broke, and fell to the floor. “I just want to see my Issy again.” His voice came in waves. “You starved hundreds of innocent people... for efficiency?” Charles smiled, though it did not reach his eyes, and looked at Piper, though there was no kindness to this stare. “Yes, I did. Because remember, Piper: what two things are the bane of the good man’s life?” The girl did not answer. As she felt the tears of Rhaine on her palm, she felt her own dripping off her nose. “I’ll answer for you, shall I? Distraction and procrastination. I really had no choice.” “Except you did. We could have joined our cultures; we could have traded. That was not the only option.” “Of course you wouldn’t understand, Savage-boy.” Dr Hathoway snapped. “My name is Rhaine, actually, and I am a person.” The boy said decidedly, took hold of Piper’s hand, and the two made for the door. Charles sprang into action and tried to stop them, but the children were quick and evaded his grasp. Rhaine tried to open the lock, but it jammed, and he shook wildly. Piper was trying to fight off Charles Hathoway, but the man was full of so much rage that she was finding it difficult to keep him away from the struggling Rhaine. She took hold of both his shoulders and pushed him hard against the wall of the caravan, sending the man flying. He crashed into a stack of books, hit his head on the stiff spines, and fell to the floor as they toppled around him. “It won’t open!” The boy shouted, twisting the key this way and that. “Push it with your shoulder!” Rhaine tried hard, but it still wouldn’t give. Piper checked to make sure that Charles was still dazed and went over to help him. With their joint force, the door clicked and finally flew open, giving the two children no time to regain their balance, and they hit the hard rocks outside. Neither of them had hurt themselves, and Rhaine got up without a scratch. However, Piper’s trouser leg had caught itself again on the doorframe again, and she’d twisted it once more. “Stupid girl.” Charles Hathoway emerged from the pile of books and grabbed hold of her leg tightly. His nails dug in hard.

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Piper twisted her head to scream at Rhaine, seeing that the boy was coming back to help her. “Go!” She shouted at him, and he hesitated, deciding what to do. “Rhaine, run!” Piper knew that Charles wouldn’t let the boy get away easily. Once he’d untangled Piper, he’d be going for her companion. As Rhaine’s instincts kicked in, he looked at Piper one last time, winked at her, and sprinted away. “No!” Charles let go of the girl and tried to follow Rhaine, but the boy was fit and fast, and outran him easily. Piper Morning watched Rhaine disappear. Charles Hathoway screamed. He stamped his foot hard against the rock, tugging at his hair. His eyes locked to Piper, grey and stormy. He unhooked her trouser leg from the doorframe and dragged her to her feet, fizzing with rage. “You’re coming with me.” He thundered, pulling her away from the caravan and the rocks. As she was dragged through the sand, she spotted the curious face of Floridel Roberts appearing in the glass of the window. He looked terrified; eyes wide behind his ridiculous glasses. I’m sorry. He mouthed to her from across the beach.

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20 Charles’ House

Charles Hathoway held the pony’s reins in his hands, chirruping to it every few minutes to keep it walking onwards. He sat in front of the small girl, her ponytail hanging loose behind her. Her bare feet swung limply on either side, deliberately kicking the legs in front. Bored, the girl began to whistle. “Keep your mouth shut." Charles didn’t turn to face her. Another hour passed, then a third and a fourth, without a word passed between them. Evening was approaching fast and had bruised the sky with dark purples and thick crimsons. The little crickets chirped happily, wedged in between the grass, and the noise of them comforted Piper. They were familiar and distracted her from her troubled mind. Then, quite unexpectantly, Charles cleared his throat and spoke. “Tell me about Lillianna Morning, girl." he said, and Piper was surprised at this strange question. She didn’t open her mouth to reply. “Answer me, insolent child.” Still, she did not say a word. “I’m simply making conversation, you ungrateful girl." “She was... kind.” The girl grumbled. Charles seemed strangely dissatisfied. “Hm," he clicked his tongue, like what she’d given him was an inadequate answer. “But what about her career? What do you know of that?" “She died studying the sea life. she was found washed up on a beach in the south – her ship had wrecked and drowned her." The man let out a loud moan, and Piper had to stop herself from laughing, it sounded so strange. “Have you bitten your tongue?" She asked. “Don’t be difficult, of course not. It was I that received the telegram declaring your Mother’s untimely demise. I was taking care of your house, you see, when it came through the letter box. You and your father were visiting his offices across the city. My, it was difficult to break the news to poor Xavier. It must’ve broken his heart in two! I suppose your unfortunate Mother just wasn’t experienced enough at sailing. Never trust a woman with a vehicle, that’s what I say. It’s a man’s job.” As he said these words, a small pinprick appeared on the horizon. The shape became

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bigger and bigger, until Piper could tell that it was a house - a large one - made with thick wooden timbers. It stood tall, at least three floors, but each one not very wide, making the whole structure look a little like an upright rectangle. Its windows were carved immaculately, and the large mahogany door glared out to the green hills, brass knocker and all. “Ah," Charles kicked his horse, and it slowed down to a trot. “at last." The horse slowed down even more, to no more than a walk. “Home.” He pulled the reigns taught, and the firefly pony stopped moving. It began to chew on the long grass, but Charles tugged harshly on the mane. “No, Persephone! Bad, foreign germs. Walk on!" The tired pony once again began to trot, until the three had reached a little gate leading into the boundaries of Dr Hathoway’s house. Inside the confines of the high picket fence was a trough of feed and only then did Charles let the firefly pony eat. “Welcome to your new home, girl. You will be sleeping on the top floor, seeing as the house isn’t designed for two people. I wonder why I’m giving you a room at all, based on your appalling behaviour, so you should think yourself lucky that I am so kind." He hitched himself off the back of the pony and took a large key from his pocket. On the key- ring was another, smaller key, made of iron. And although it seemed incredibly old, there wasn’t a speck of rust to be seen. Piper slid down and landed on the flattened grass lightly. She followed her captor gingerly to the front door, as he inserted the key and pushed it open, the old wood creaking deeply. “I must get those hinges oiled," he muttered to himself, and gestured for Piper to follow him inside. The hallway was a grand room, just as grand as any of the mainland houses. The panelled walls were decked out in perfectly matching reds and purples. A portrait of some lost ancestor hung grandly on the wall. From somewhere in the house, a little white dog appeared and began barking. It was fluffy and white, and although it was elegant, standing gracefully like a demure creature, the noise it was making suggested otherwise. “Quiet, Reginald! Quiet, boy!" Charles tried hard to silence the dog, but in vain. He gave up quickly, and simply picked it up and put it behind another door. The man turned to Piper. “Go upstairs right now. I expect you to keep quiet once in your room; I have a lot of work to do." “Why am I here?” She asked, refusing to look the man in the eyes. “You know why you are here, child. You ran off into the forest like a scoundrel, and

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you must be punished.” “But there was an earthquake!” She protested passionately, but Charles would not hear of it, and shooed her upstairs. She did as she had been told, and made her way up the rectangle-house, discovering as she ascended that the rest of the building was identical to the hall – stiff, wooden, and grand. Each room was a vague copy of the others: maybe smaller, with a higher ceiling or a rug instead of simple boards, but each with the same panelled walls and expensive paintings. When she had reached halfway to the top of the house, Piper arrived at a smaller room than the others. She was relieved to find that it was a library, filled to the brim with books of all kinds. Seeing as she suspected a prim man like Charles Hathoway wouldn’t let her outside to play, a good book to read was the next best thing. But when the girl went to take one off the shelf, eager to see the stories trapped inside, she heard a sound she knew well – it was the sound of the spine crackling. It was obvious Charles had never opened the book, since he’d never broken the spine. Greatly disappointed, Piper moved on to the next book. Then the next and the next. Upon closer inspection, she discovered that not a single one of these books had been opened once. Except for one. Piper would have missed it if it weren’t that she had knocked the adjacent book off the shelf by mistake. As she reached to pick it up, the cover of the book caught her eye. ‘a beginner’s guide to marine biology’ Was embossed on the front. It was a simple volume, with a plain cream jacket, but the spine was wrinkled, and the corners of the cover dog- eared. Piper took the book from the shelf, the one she’d knocked over left forgotten, and opened it with excitement crackling at her fingertips. She wondered why, out of all the books in the library, this one had been opened. Expecting to find some hidden secrets or magic spells, Piper was saddened to find the book incredibly boring. She sighed, absent-mindedly flipping through the book, wondering what next to do, when suddenly something fell from amidst the pages. It was a little folded up piece of paper. “Is that you stomping around upstairs?" came an agitated voice from beneath her. “I thought I told you to be quiet. Settle down now." Piper took no notice and reached down to pick up the piece of paper. It seemed old, perhaps as old as her, and was feather-soft when she touched it. “Have you gone to bed yet?" the barking voice was becoming louder. “I don’t want to waste any more of the gas on your lights." Piper’s ears pricked, hearing him coming up

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the stairs. Quick as a flash, she shut the book with a snap, slotted it back onto the shelf and bolted up the stairs, paper in hand. Each step creaked in protest with the weight of her sprint, hair flying out behind her as she tripped up the staircase. Then she reached the attic, breathing heavily. It was a small hallway, not much longer than Piper was tall, and wasn’t nearly as formal as the other rooms. Instead of panelling, the walls were bare. Instead of thick carpet, pale floorboards guided her to the door at the end. Again, this door was simple and undecorated, and Piper skidded up to it in fear of being caught by Charles. The rounded knob was made of copper and was extremely unpolished. When the girl reached out to turn it, dust came away at her fingers. Piper opened the door apprehensively, worried what she might see behind it. A rickety metal bed stood nestled underneath a sloping roof, white plastered walls cracked and slightly yellowed with neglect. But there wasn’t a tapestry to be seen, and the floor was completely uncarpeted. Whatever effort had been put into designing the rest of the house had not been put into the attic, and this relieved Piper hugely. She hadn’t been comfortable with the idea of sleeping in a room surrounded by the shadows of golden portraits and threaded battle scenes on faded cloth. A single window was set into the wall at her left, and the girl went to look out. The sash was stiff, but after a few tries she managed to lift it enough and lean out into the night. Charles Hathaway’s house lay on the other side of the Mountain forest, the hills that surrounded it were the means by which she had travelled away from her caravan. But she’d never seen the landscape from this high before. The viewpoint from the top-floor window was something she’d never expected to see. Now that night was properly veiling the island, the silhouetted mountains proved a perfect backdrop for the velvety-black trees. With a grunt, Piper forced open the sash a little higher to breathe in the frosty night air. The piney smell reminded her of the late nights she’d spent hiding in the tall grasses, fancying she was a waiting wild cat. Even now, she felt as though that part of her had been disconnected, yet it had only been one week. Piper heard a knock at the door. “I expect you to wear the nightgown that I left out for you." she turned around and took a closer look at the little bed. Sure enough, there was a creamy white dress draped over the coverlet. It was elaborately frilled around the collar and cuffs, embroidered with pink and white flowers over the front. “Hm," Charles shuffled his weight, and the floorboards creaked in protest. His footsteps retreated. Piper took no notice of the nightdress and turned to face the night once more. She wondered if Rhaine was out there, somewhere, waiting to rescue her. She hoped so.

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21 The Beast Behind the Door

Piper was woken the next morning by an angry banging on her door. “Wake up, you selfish child! There are jobs to be done.” Piper, half-asleep, got herself dressed and made her bed, tucking the piece of paper carefully under her mattress. She stumbled down the stairs, rubbing her eyes, squirming to get out of her dirty clothes. Little had she noticed, but days on the hills had caked her in mud, and the secretly welcome softness of that nightdress had reminded her of what being clean was. Expecting breakfast, Piper was disappointed when she entered the kitchen and found the table excruciatingly bare. Her stomach grumbled in disappointment. “You thought you were going to be fed, child? Oh no, while you are under my roof you will learn to work for your food.” And work she did. Piper spent the whole morning running back and forth to the river and the tanks, boiling and filtering and making sure it was clean enough to drink. Then, she went to the back of the house and clipped the grass with clumsy metal loppers. “I cannot stand living in a pigsty,” Charles Hathoway had explained to her, insisting he was ‘too old’ to do it himself. After this job had been completed, Piper was given the task of carrying salted meat to the cellar under the house. She was amazed that Dr Hathoway even had a cellar, marvelling at how expensive this luxury would have been. Struggling with the slabs of slimy meat, Piper tip-toed down the stairs. The walls of the cellar were lined with cold stone, the floor similarly decorated, and the air had a unique chill to it – the kind that is only found in cellars. She dropped the stack of meat into the ice-box nestled in the corner and tried her best to wipe her stinking hands on her trousers, disgusted. As she raced back to the staircase, her eyes fell on a little door carved on one of the walls. It was made of wood, mahogany brown, with cast iron bars across the front. A large iron keyhole tempted her closer, but try as she might, Piper could not open it. She tried to take a peek through the hole but couldn’t see a thing. However, she could hear something coming from inside. A keening noise, almost as though lamenting something. Was there an animal specimen on the other side, like a Firefly Pony or a Jaguah? Was it hungry and distressed, straining to escape? Or was there a monster instead, caught by Charles Hathoway by the light of the moon, chained to the wall for days?

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Piper knocked lightly, pressing her ear to the soft wood. “Who’s there? I won’t hurt you.” She whispered. There came a shuffling from the other side, slowly at first, then louder. It circled the room, giving Piper a sense of how large it was. Not much bigger than her attic room. The noise came closer still, until she was certain she could feel its breath. Then, all at once, the noise flew at her, banging and screaming, howling, clawing at the door. Piper jumped, yelled, and ran up the staircase, into the light, shaking. Charles Hathoway was waiting for her at the top. His face was grey, his eyes dark. “Never,” He hissed, “Touch that door again; you do not wish to know what is behind it.” As another thought came to him, he continued “And if you ever think about picking that lock, there will be the severest of consequences.” Piper tried to look nonchalant, but in truth she was a little scared. Not of Charles Hathoway, but of whatever was behind that door. As she was sent to scrub the dishes, Piper planned how she could possibly find out what was behind it, without her captor knowing.

*** Once the dishes were dried and stowed away, Piper was finally allowed to eat. Even when she had been starving on the hills, she had never looked forward to a meal this much. She felt like crying out when she was given a meagre plate of bread and salad. “Can I have some of the meat?” She mumbled. “Don’t be so ungrateful. You should be thankful I’m feeding you at all.” Piper wolfed her food quickly, scared Charles Hathoway might take it away, but still felt empty when she had licked it clean. The plate was whisked away from her the second she had finished, and she was told to go and chop some wood for the fire. By evening time, she was practically sleep-walking, and her poor clothes had been encrusted in even more dirt. Finally, Dr Hathoway told her she could go up to her room. She trudged slowly up the stairs, having to concentrate hard so as not to fall down them, and eventually reached the top. Flopping onto her bed, Piper felt her eyes beginning to close. They flew open when she suddenly remembered what had been stowed underneath her mattress. Feeling a refreshing rush of energy, Piper eased out the sheet of paper, careful not to rip it. She traced her fingers over the soft paper, trying to guess how old it really was. She slid her finger underneath and unfolded it carefully. It was a cut-out of a newspaper, a big block of text – an article. It looked like an interview. The font was one she recognised: it was an extract from her father’s favourite newspaper.

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Where were you on the night of her death? I was sitting in the living room, reading the paper. Which paper was that? The Evening Caller. I like the crossword. You have good taste. I appreciate your writing, Professor Darling. Very powerful. You are too kind, sir, but I digress. How many nights were you staying there? Just two. Did you have any connection to her? Not a lot. We were only acquaintances. Then who do you think might have done it? Perhaps her husband; I heard them arguing often.

Piper looked at the right-hand corner of the cut-out. Part of the date and been guillotined, but she managed to work out that the newspaper had been published twelve years ago. She wondered why Charles had kept it. She wondered if he knew the man being interviewed, or perhaps he knew the journalist. As her thoughts took a sinister turn, she wondered who they were speaking of in the first place. This woman who’d died, had Charles known her? For many minutes she spent poring over the tiny little slip, fabricating story after story explaining why in the world Charles Hathoway had kept such an odd news article folded up in a book. She only stopped thinking when she heard the man’s voice coming up the stairs again. Scrambling, she shoved the piece of paper under her mattress and hopped into bed, pulling the covers up high to hide the fact that she was still fully dressed. There was another knock on the door. “Go to sleep, Piper. There will be more jobs tomorrow, so get some rest or you’ll regret it.” Piper did not answer and snuggled down into her pillow. As her mind was slowly dragged into sleep, an image flashed up in her mind. It was of the old key, the second one, that hung on the key-ring with the other. She saw it in her head, and she pictured it intently. Maybe, though the chances were slim, that was the key that opened the door in the cellar. Piper waited for no longer than ten minutes, then slid out of bed, still clothed. She eased the door open and crept down the staircase, making sure not a single board creaked under her weight. She got to the floor below, the one with the library, without any mishap, and, checking to make sure no-one was there, continued her descent. She reached the second floor, then the first, and listened hard for the sounds of Charles Hathoway sleeping. She was excited to hear the deep breathing of the man coming from

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the other side of his bedroom door. She moved passed, and danced down the fourth and final staircase, breathing fully when she reached the bottom. She went over to the front door, with its grand wood and stained glass, and considered escaping there and then. She felt around on the sideboard, running her hands over the distinctive china bowl where Dr Hathoway kept the keys. Her hands closed on the iron ring. Taking them from the bowl slowly, Piper turned and opened the door leading to the cellar. There were no longer the sun’s mellow rays to guide her down the stone steps, so she fumbled in the black. She ran her hands down the walls, guiding her downwards. Left foot. Right foot. Then she reached the bottom, and began to feel around for the door, quietly. She could not afford to wake up the beast, not with Charles Hathoway sleeping just above. There, she had found the keyhole. Distinguishing the difference between the keys with her fingers, Piper slotted it in and tried to turn. She tried once. She tried three times more. It didn’t budge. She tried the other key, the one for the front door, in the frantic hope that something would happen. It didn’t. Whatever the old key opened; it wasn’t this door. Piper groaned quietly. “I’ll set you free one day, Beast.” She called as she went back to bed.

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22 An Ancient Box

The morning after was even more of a trial: Piper didn’t stop work until well into the evening. That night, she planned to look for the real key to the cellar door. Now that she knew neither of the ones on the key-ring worked, she just had to believe in luck that she would be successful. She felt as though something was tugging at her heart; eating her away; something that would only stop once she found out what was behind that door. She waited a little longer in bed this time, until she was certain that Dr Hathoway would be sleeping. Then she got out of bed again, and skirted downstairs. She assumed that the Dr would not just leave the key lying around, and the chances were, it would be somewhere hidden. She began downstairs, looking in every cupboard and under every flowerpot. She checked the floor for any loose boards and ran her fingers along the tops of paintings to see if it was hidden there. She was unsuccessful, and so moved up a floor and began her search there. Again, she was unlucky, and travelled upwards towards the library. She considered opening every single book individually to check if the key was in there but decided against it. Instead, she looked in the nooks under the bookshelves, checking in case it was under there. Once she had thoroughly looked under every shelf and in every crack of the floor, Piper moved on to neighbouring rooms. Was it in the swish indoor water-closet? Or the fancy tiled kitchen? There was one room that Piper definitely didn’t want to search, and that was Charles’ bedroom. The idea of waking up her captor frightened her, as much as she denied it. While on her journey, Piper came across a little cupboard, built into the side of the tiny living room. She wouldn’t have seen it at first, as it was hidden behind one of the tapestries. Lifting the heavy woven cloth up, Piper found a small, wooden door. It wasn’t unlocked, and Piper was excited, thinking the key might be behind it. Instead, however, all she found was a large chest, with a great padlock across the front and iron bars nailed into the wood. She inspected this box, trying to work out what might be inside. It was heavy and seemingly full to the brim with things, and she wondered why Charles Hathoway had hidden it. He obviously didn’t want her to find it. Creeping back out into the landing and grabbing the key-ring from the bowl, Piper went back into the living room and compared the size of the old key to the padlock across the chest. It seemed a perfect fit. So, this is what it opens, the girl thought as she unlocked the padlock with a clunk, and carefully removed it from its ring. She eased open the box

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lid, careful not to make a sound, and peered at its contents. In the watery darkness she could just make out piles of books. Notebooks, they looked like. She reached into the box and took out the notebook at the top of the pile. It had a black cover, and the paper inside was old and yellowed, like that newspaper cutting. She turned to a random page, squinted her eyes and tried to read some of it. The handwriting was one she recognised, but in the dim light she was unable to tell whose. She assumed it was Charles Hathoway’s, but she couldn’t be sure. Eyes sparking with renewed purpose, Piper went back up to bed and silently got under the covers, temporarily forgetting the beast that lived below her.

*** She could not have found that box at a better time; Charles Hathoway woke her the next morning calling: “Unfortunately, I must travel today, so I will be leaving you alone in the house. I hope you understand what that means.” Piper had to stifle a shout of joy. She vowed to herself to be meek and hard-working all morning, filling pails with water and scrubbing the boards until they shone. She humbly accepted her portion of leaves and bread, silencing her growling tummy, and even managed a smile at the man when he said she could go and have a break. “Do not think I am encouraging idleness, girl; I am simply rewarding your hard work for once. Do not expect it to happen again.” Piper skipped up to her room, stealing a book on bird types from the shelf. She spent an entire glorious hour devouring all the diverse kinds of toucans, ostriches and other exotic species found in the zoological museums. Piper then washed, dried and put away all the dishes, and went back outside to re-clip the grass. She had also been given the job of feeding Persephone, the Firefly Pony, and she took great enjoyment in doing so. While Piper had been trapped in Charles Hathoway’s house, she and the horse had bonded over their shared hatred of the cruel man. Piper would often sneak out during the day to feed her apples and oats, and as the animal munched greedily, Piper would tell her stories of the great hills and vast prairies, reminding the sad horse of the life she’d once had. In contrast, as much as she had tried, Piper simply couldn’t befriend Charles’ dog, Reginald. The vain animal would spend the day lounging around on the soft armchair, neatly brushed and painfully washed. Piper had made several attempts at sneaking him food as a peace offering, but the dog had simply barked and turned his head, obviously finding the girl not good enough for him. “Do not feel like you are free to do as you please.” Charles said. He dropped the dog behind the living room door again, and then swept out of the house. “I have left a list of chores for you on the table, and if a single one of them is left undone, you will be starved for three days.”

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He slammed the door dramatically, locking it from outside. “Do not attempt to escape, Piper Morning. This door is locked, and anyway, you wouldn’t get far. The savages would attack you and you’d be eaten. Do you want to end up like Peter Hanford?” “The savages don’t eat people. You told me yourself.” “Did I? Then how do you explain the two missing people?” A malicious twinkle of humour lay at Charles’ lips. “Mr Roberts lied! And, I’m guessing, so did Peter.” “But you’re forgetting, child. I saw poor Peter Hanford get attacked by savages only a few weeks ago.” “I bet Peter is still alive, somewhere.” Dr Hathoway cackled. “Closer than you might think. I shall return in five hours.” Piper suddenly realised she was alone. Giving a great whoop of happiness, she immediately ran to the living room and went behind the tapestry, opening the box again. She prised open the lid and took out three of the notebooks. Now that there was some light in the room, she could clearly see that the notebook was bound in black leather. Slowly opening the cover to admire the treasures inside. Piper read the first few words, anticipating whatever they might say. As her eyes skated across the page, she felt her heart drop.

Day 8 – Thursday Weather: Cloudy Lillianna Morning, Adventurer.

Piper felt as though her world was tipping sideways. Why did Charles Hathoway have his mother’s notebook? She felt sick, as sick as she did in the tent with Lora Bianca but stilled her churning stomach and forced herself to carry on reading.

I have never known solitude like this. It has only been twenty-four hours, and yet I feel so alone on this vast expanse of ocean. I know I am safe, however, as the islanders made sure to build my raft strong and dependable. All I can see is crystal blue, filling up the horizon. Even The Hartlands themselves have gone misty and disappeared. My food supply seems to be endless; I have already filled up on lunch and look forward to supper. The food the islanders have given me is like nothing I have ever eaten. The meat back at home is never as

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succulent, the nuts not nearly as crisp. I must not get ahead of myself. As I wait for my safe return home, I have decided to fill all my remaining notebooks with information on the island and its people. Starting with this one: I shall write about all the species of plants I have met so far. My favourite, I suppose, would be the Island Marigold. I think it’s fascinating. Funnily enough, it looks like the marigold back home, which surprises me. It behaves similarly to plants at home, too: it photosynthesises, of course, and needs water to survive. I wonder how such an insignificant plant like that can have such an exact doppelgänger over in Britton.

Flipping through the pages frantically, Piper felt her vision going blurry. Not only the natives, but now Charles Hathoway? This horrid man had somehow got hold of tens of her others notebooks and had hidden them away behind a tapestry. Xavier had never said anything to her about Lillianna and Charles ever knowing each other. That notebook she dropped to the floor, and picked up the one underneath, which was titled: ‘Animal species of The Hartlands’. Again, it was her mother’s writing, for pages and pages. That boat journey must have been long. She looked through it for a while, then moved on to the next, then the next. All were her mother’s, all accounts of the island. Piper didn’t notice the clock ticking away, and as she devoured the notebooks, the clock soon struck five. With a jump, Piper ran to the window to check outside. She could see Charles Hathoway coming over the hills. Running back to the chest, Piper stuffed all the books back and hastily replaced the padlock. She shut the door, letting the tapestry fall in front, and rushed into the kitchen to look at the list of chores. The girl was horrified to discover that it was over three pages of scrawling writing, and she hadn’t done a single one. Piper tried to calm herself as Charles put his key in the door and came in, scowling already. “Good afternoon, Piper. I hope you have completed all the chores I gave you.” The thunder came back to his face when he looked at the list and saw it untouched. “You idle, lazy girl.” He fumed. “When I tell you to do something, I expect it to be done.” “Uh - sorry. I got distracted.” “Distracted for five hours.” Charles shouted, smacking her about the head. In his hand was the hard iron key-ring, and it carved a deep gash in Piper’s forehead. She fell to the floor, seeing stars, room spinning. “You are selfish and nothing: you are a disgrace to your father and do not deserve to be a daughter of a gentleman. Do you know how hard he worked for you? Do you know how tired he was?” “Don’t talk about Father like he’s dead.” Piper slurred, still dazed from the blow. “He’s as good as dead.” Charles cackled. He walked out of the kitchen, leaving Piper on the floor. As soon as he had left, she grabbed a cloth from the rack by the cupboard

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and wet it in the sink. The girl tried to clean her deep gash, worried it might get infected. The blood that came away was deep red, and it dripped from her cut thick and fast. She was struggling to keep her balance, and in the end collapsed on the floor again. She felt so dizzy. Everything was upside-down. Forcing herself to stand, Piper staggered up the stairs to her bedroom. She felt the room turn black as soon as her head hit the bed.

*** Piper woke a few hours later, feeling no better, but at least she could stand now. She went down the stairs, stomach growling, and found Charles tucking into some roasted rabbit at the kitchen table. “What do you want?” he said gruffly, without turning around. “I haven’t eaten today. Can I have some of the meat?” “Did you think I wouldn’t keep my promise? No, I am a man of my word. I said I’d starve you for three days, so that is what I am doing. Go back upstairs.” Piper dithered in the doorway, too weak to argue back. “Now.” Feeling completely crushed, the girl trudged back up the staircase and slept for a few more hours. When she forced her eyes open next, darkness had flooded her room. Checking the clock on the wall, Piper saw that it was the middle of the night. Listening, she assumed Charles Hathoway had gone to bed, and got to her feet. The cut on her head had scabbed, encrusted in dry blood, and Piper winced when she touched it. She could feel the tiredness eating away at her, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep if she didn’t look at those notebooks again. She went down the staircase and began flipping through notebooks at the bottom of the pile. First, she looked at ‘Rock types of The Hartlands,’ and then, ‘The Hartlands’ weather patterns’ and after that a few more. Lastly, she plucked from the chest a small, insignificant book that was tucked away in the corner. This one was not as big as the others. It was labelled: ‘The natives that live in The Hartlands’. She opened the book at its first page.

I am still not certain I should be making this volume. I suppose the privacy of the natives is paramount, of course, but seeing as I will be alone for so long, there is no harm in writing as a way to fight boredom. So here it is, anyway: an introduction to the people of The Hartlands. They live in camps on the plains – happy little settlements, made with care. They sleep in canvas tents, and hunt and forage for their food. Some may say they lead simple lives, but that is certainly not the case, for they have mastered the art of magic and it is far more advanced than anything in Britton. They can make medicine that heals wounds in minutes, and paint that makes plants grow fast and fat. They can make syrup that preserves meat for months, even when left in the open, and various potions that

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keep one awake and such. I have tried a few of these concoctions myself, but still do not truly know the full extent of their abilities. Esther is the tribe’s healer, and she has a talent for making medicine. The gash that I received during the shipwreck, she managed to heal in a matter of hours. Besides wonderful Esther, I met the tribe’s chief, Nyssa, who was a fabulous huntress, and kept me well-fed while on the island. I also met her son, Bastian, who was a rather spoilt child but very handsome. Rhaine was Esther’s son, who was not yet old enough to talk, but I can tell he shall grow up to be a sunny thing. He smiled at everyone he met, and it did not take me long to fall in love with him.

Piper snorted, despite everything, then carried on reading.

Speaking of magic, there is something else I am bursting to write about. There was a tree, buried deep in the woods, that produces fruit made of crystals. The roots of this tree were made of crystal, too, and spread across the whole island, as real as any jewel or gem. I was eager to dig some up to keep as samples, but Nyssa stopped me before I got close. She told me But I am getting ahead of myself. I shall dedicate an entire notebook to the crystal, which I shall start soon after this one.

Piper discarded what she was reading and began looking for the notebook her mother had been writing about but couldn’t find it. She had looked through all the rest, so where could it be? Maybe Lillianna had drowned before she got the chance to start it. With a gasp, Piper had another realisation: Lillianna Morning had died on her voyage back home, so why, in an old wooden chest, did Charles Hathoway have her notebooks in perfect condition? It was too much. Piper tried to go back to sleep but found it impossible. Her mind was too troubled to let dreams in, and only as dawn began to creep up the walls did the terrified child finally drift off. She dreamt she was Persephone, and Charles Hathoway was riding her across the hills. Piper bucked, trying to throw him off, to run away, but the man was too quick and kept catching up. Faster, faster. In his arms he carried the dead body of Lillianna Morning, hands a canvas of apple-red blood.

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23 Piper Fades

No-one came to wake Piper the next morning, and she slept fitfully well into the afternoon. Every so often she would rock back into consciousness, so hungry that she felt sick, so weak that her hands shook even when resting next to her head. She was too weak to stand, and when Charles Hathoway came clattering into the room, yelling at her for her laziness, she didn’t open her eyes. “Get up!” The man screeched and pulled Piper out of bed. She collapsed to the floor again, breathing heavily. “You spoilt girl. You won’t get attention from me. I said I’d starve you for three days, and so I shall: you should be thankful it is not for longer.” The girl couldn’t see; her entire vision was blurry. The pains in her stomach hadn’t lessened, and if she had had the strength, she would have been moaning in agony. Almost two weeks of malnourishment had made her weak and emotional, and when she finally got to her feet, and glanced at herself in the looking glass, the face that stared back was not one she knew. Piper Morning didn’t have those hollow cheekbones. Piper Morning didn’t have those purple bags under her eyes. With each long day, the child had lost a little more of herself, and now she felt more like a half-dead ghost than an almost thirteen-year-old girl. She settled into a routine, waking up in the morning and starting work early, spending every waking minute thinking about food. Her ribs now poked harshly through her chest, her collarbone sticking out whenever she breathed. Her captor pretended not to notice, but even he looked a little worried. After the three days of starvation were over, he sat her down in the kitchen and gave her a bowl of watery porridge. “A treat like this won’t happen again, so don’t eat like a pig – savour it.” Piper took a tentative bite, feeling a rush of strength flow back into her. She wolfed her food, stomach so small that even a meagre meal of oats filled her up. As soon as the bowl was clean, she was sent back to work. A whole week passed: one that felt like a year. She didn’t dare step out of line again, and meekly cooked, cleaned and gathered while Charles worked in his study. He would still sometimes leave the house, but never again did Piper forget to do the chores. The thought of Rhaine was still constant in Piper’s mind, but with each day she believed less and less that he was coming to get her. She still visited the chest behind the tapestry, sometimes, but now that she had read

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them all through, she didn’t feel the need to see it as much. The beast in the cellar became a distant memory, and Piper wondered if maybe she had made it all up. Charles hadn’t any more meat to store in the ice-box, and so the girl hadn’t been down there since her first encounter with the door. She didn’t have the confidence to sneak down when Charles wasn’t looking. All of Piper’s courage had been eaten, much like her strength, and now all that was left was husk, a meek little husk that only said yes. She wondered what Rhaine would think, should he see her now. The books were the only real solace Piper had. She was thankful there was such a large library, and every night she would read a different volume, forgetting herself for a few blissful hours. She’d looked at the newspaper cutting more than enough times, trying to decipher what it could mean, but with no success. Anyway, she was so tired in the evenings now that her brain wasn’t able to analyse something like that. Now, all Piper did when she had breaks was sleep. It was one of these nights that Piper was woken to the sound of a great rumble. She darted out of bed and put on her coat, knowing that sound too well: it was the sound of an earthquake. Remembering what had happened that awful night, the girl didn’t spend a second longer in the house, ran down the stairs and burst out the door. She found Dr Hathoway standing outside with his arms crossed, watching it all play out. She wondered why he didn’t look worried or trying to run for shelter. Instead he just looked bored. “What is it?” The man said irritably, “Don’t pretend you haven’t had one of these before: they happen every week.” The sky was even worse than last time: it looked like someone had cut deep into the clouds with a razor. Piper suddenly felt thankful that the forest was magical; she hadn’t realised that these earthquakes were so frequent. Rhaine had said they were caused by the Island Spirit when she was angry, yet no-one seemed to care. “Stupid weather patterns,” The man muttered when it was all over, and the two went back inside the house.

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24 Charles is Unravelled

Today, the dawn was mild – a contrast to the night before – and Piper rose early for the first time in weeks. Much like everything else, her love of the morning had vanished with her appetite for adventure. She went downstairs, expecting to find Charles working already, but the study was silent. He must still be asleep. Maybe he’d let her eat more if she showed some initiative. No matter, Piper set to work, planting some seeds in the garden and harvesting the beans and carrots for the casserole she would cook in the evening. Charles had been dismayed to learn that Piper could only cook stews and had forced her to slave away at the stove until she had mastered a few more recipes. She gardened for a while, until she was satisfied. It did occur strange, however, that Charles still wasn’t awake even when the birds had all begun to sing. Piper stalked up the house. She reached the second-to-top floor, and saw Charles’ bedroom door had been opened, the curtains drawn. Light flooded the room, and Piper peered around it for the first time. It was small, much like all the other rooms in the house, but much more luxurious than the others. The walls and floors were carpeted in thick red velvet, and the four-poster bed was glossy, with heavy curtains to keep out the cold. Charles had multiple wardrobes to keep his blazers and shirts, many of which were strewn across the floor. What was interesting was that Charles wasn’t in his bed, or rifling through his clothes, or reading a book on his velvet couch, in fact he wasn’t there at all. Piper knew something was wrong when she heard the floorboards creaking above her. She ran up the stairs, up to the attic, for Charles was in her room. She saw him at the end of the hallway, his back to her, still as ice. She wondered if he hadn’t heard her and considered calling out, but then she saw what was in his hand: a folded-up piece of newspaper cutting. “How did you find it.” He asked, all emotion gone from his voice. It was the first time Piper had ever seen him look truly frightened. “What is it?” “It’s just an interview. Nothing you should care about.” “You’re the one being interviewed, aren’t you?” “I had no choice. I couldn’t get out of it, even though I tried. They thought I was the one that received the telegram.”

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Charles turned around slowly, his eyes were red, and tears were running down his face. “Give it to me.” he said. Piper took a step backwards. “Give what?” “Give me the notebook, Piper Morning, and I may let you live.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” For once, Piper was telling the truth. She was slowly reversing, trying to get away from the lunatic man. “Your shoulder bag.” Charles looked across the room and spotted Piper’s bag hanging from a hook on the wall. Looking like an animal, he let the newspaper cutting flutter to the floor and began madly rummaging around in the girl’s belongings. “Stop that! They’re mine!” Piper shouted, and tried to fight Charles Hathoway off her things, but there was an inhuman strength that had been instilled in him, and Piper was no match for his bright-eyed instincts. It didn’t take long for Charles to pull out Piper’s own notebook from the bag. He wasn’t able to believe his eyes as he opened the book and looked through it. “This is it. It must be.” He muttered, forgetting Piper momentarily. The girl seized her opportunity and snatched up her belongings. “I’m not scared of you.” She declared, and the Dr reached into his pocket. From it he pulled a long, shiny piece of metal. A gun. “Step out of line again and I’ll put a bullet in your shin.” He said, snarling at her. “You wouldn’t.” Piper edged further backwards, then she turned and made a dash for the door. The Doctor reached out and grabbed her by the collar, causing Piper to lose her balance. He picked her up off the floor and carried her downstairs, kicking and screaming. The amount of weight that Piper had lost meant she was worryingly light, and Charles was barely red in the face when he took her down into the cellar and dropped her on the hard flagstone floor. There was only one shaft of light in the room, coming from the crack in the door, and it made Dr Hathoway look even more terrifying. “What did I do? Why do you hate me?” Piper sobbed, wiping away the snot trickling from her nose. “I don’t hate you, child. I needed you, that’s all.” Charles said softly, as if that was comforting. “I had all of Lillianna’s notebooks but one, and I guessed you would have it. You see, I thought Xavier might, at first, but after I’d searched the caravan thoroughly, I discovered I was wrong. I knew he must have had it somewhere, until I realised, he could have given it to you.” Piper sniffed hard, vowing she would keep her tears inside her. “That’s why you made you and Papa partners. It was just so you could snoop around our home.”

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“Exactly. You are a bright child. It’s why I brought you here. I thought that I could kill two birds with one stone: get all my chores done and find Lillianna’s last notebook.” “But they disintegrated years ago. Mother died at sea, along with all her possessions.” Charles laughed smugly. “Ah, that is where you are wrong. Lillianna Morning didn’t die at sea. She was still alive when she docked in Lute, bursting to meet with her association to tell them all about ‘The Hartlands’.” Somehow Piper didn’t feel surprised. Even as she swallowed some vomit that had crept up her throat, she felt relieved that her suspicions had been right. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but seeing as you’ll be dead in a while, I suppose it doesn’t matter. She hurried back to your villa, eager to see you, but was disappointed to find me there, instead. Your precious father had taken you away for a few days to see some museums and his workplace. I, his good friend, had been asked to stay in your house while you were away, making sure everything was in order. “So, there I was, reading the Caller in the parlour when your bedraggled mother came through the door, shaking. She was surprised to see me, but was polite, I suppose. Lillianna had never liked me. “I knew something was different, for she seemed eager to see me leave. I decided to insist that I stay, just one more night. I made it out that there were no more steam-birds back to Lyre, and while Lillianna went upstairs, I inspected her possessions and found piles of notebooks, filled with information about a strange island. I read about clean streams and wide horizons, things unheard of in Britton. I read about a crystal that was formed on the island. You know that we mined the last crystal reserve years ago, Piper, and I did, too. I knew I could make a fortune. I’d never have to work again! “I admit, I had been on the drink, and my mind was not quite as stable as it should have been. When she came back downstairs, I offered her a deal. I was quite reasonable, I assure you. Women are not allowed to form expeditions by themselves, you see, so I told her we’d say that we’d both found the island and split whatever riches were harvested from it. Your mother said no, of course, being a typical, infuriating woman. She said she had no plans to capitalize on the island, but to form an alliance and to trade with the people. She spoke of magic, of all things, and expected me to believe her. “But I wasn’t in the wrong. I had been down on my luck, I was poor and frankly jealous of Xavier, his stupid, happy family and perfect wife. I got violent, I didn’t mean to, and Lillianna made for the front door – but I couldn’t let her leave.” Piper was struggling to put words in her mouth. Everything she’d known had been a lie. “I wacked her about the head with a chair and beat her to death. It was quick and almost painless, really, I’m sure she hardly felt it. Then I forged a telegram, saying that dear Lillianna Morning’s ship had been found washed up on a beach somewhere, broken and empty. I gathered her bags, and papers, and took them home, burying her body

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somewhere I was certain would never be dug up. “Then, when you and your father returned, I gave them the telegram and said what a shock it had been to receive. I cannot tell you the horror on Xavier’s face. It almost made me want to laugh. “Then I faked a voyage for two weeks, hiding away in a remote place before returning, joyous. I told everyone I had found a magnificent, beautiful island, with blue skies and fresh air. I told them the people on the island were savages, and only those truly brave would be able to join me on this journey of a lifetime. I said I’d found crystal, veins of the stuff that spread across the whole island, enough to make any man rich beyond his dreams. You cannot imagine the amount of people who wanted to go. “But I had stupidly lost the notebook. I must have left it at your house when I took the body, and it was too late to go back. I just had to pray that someday I’d find it, for without it I had no idea where the crystal was.” “But my notebook’s empty!” Piper pleaded. She wasn’t lying. That notebook had been her mother’s, but not a single page had been written on. “Silly girl. The savages had given Lillianna an ink, made of a special yellow fruit, that would dry invisible and only show itself when exposed to heat. It just so happened that I had been reading by the light of a candle, and Lillianna’s writing had appeared before my eyes.” “I’ve been writing over my mother?” Piper whispered, more to herself than the detestable man. “You killed her. You stole her life from her and buried her in the ground. You took her work and passed it off as your own. You’re a fraud.” Charles smiled. “You understand, finally. Yes, I’m a fraud, and a good one, at that.” “You had no right!” “Of course I did. Lillianna was a woman, as I’ve said before. Nobody would have believed her. I did her a favour.” “You’re a cheat.” Piper said, letting her tears fall freely, “You’re the disgusting one. You’re the one who doesn’t deserve to be a gentleman.” “Maybe so. And yet here we are.” “I hate you!” Piper suddenly had enough energy to fly at the man, clawing at his face, his hair. This man had killed her mother, the only person Piper felt would understand her. Charles yelped and tried to prise the rabid girl away, but Piper’s sheer fury was enough to send him toppling. He forced her from his face and flung her against the stone walls, panting. “Goodness, you’re no better than the rest of them.” He grabbed Piper again and hit her hard on the cheek. Reaching into his pocket, he brought out a large key, one that the

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girl had not seen before. He went over to the door set into the wall and unlocked it. Piper was afraid, afraid of what might happen next. The man pushed her into the room behind the door and slammed it shut, locking it behind him. She scratched at the wood, crying to be let out. “I never liked you, even when you were a baby. Clever women are a poison to our society. You know too much, anyway.” He turned, and went up the stone stairs, heels clicking, calling out behind him. “Oh, and do say hello to your father for me.” Piper knew there was no hope of her getting out. She took a few deep breaths and put her back to the door, waiting for her eyes to adjust. She saw two shapes moving around, sticking close to the walls, never coming near her. The girl got on to her hands and knees and crawled closer, trying to decipher what they could be. The shapes shied away, but Piper was soothing and eventually they came to her. She reached out a tender hand and stroked one of them, surprised when she felt silk. The other came closer, and the girl could just about make out its shape. About the height of a man, with two legs and arms. It scuttled along the floor like a monkey, but when she looked, she was certain it had no tail. Now it was almost in front of her face, and she could smell its sour breath. Slowly, features came into focus. Two green eyes. Thin lips. Pale cheeks. A suit. Piper buckled. The beast was her father. “Papa?” she questioned the air, voice hoarse. Xavier didn’t say anything in return, but turned his back and retreated into the shadows, joining the other. Now that the girl could see better, she could tell that the other beast was someone she’d met a few times in Britton. It was Peter Hanford, Xavier’s friend. That must have been another one of Charles’ lies, another one of his sick scams. So, Peter was never attacked by a native. She bet that Charles came to visit Mr Hanford one day, saw what he had become and thought it the perfect opportunity to instil a little more fear. The glint of Peter’s necklace glowed faintly in the darkness. She crawled up to both of them, distinguishing her father out of the two, and thread her arms around Xavier’s chest, sobbing into his shoulder. Her father, emotionless, did not respond. “What’s happened to you, Papa? You’re a monster.” She choked, voice barely a whisper. The two sat, entwined, for a few moments, before Piper felt ribbon poking out of her pocket. She pulled away, taking the lump of crystal in her hand. “Two weeks,” Bastian had said. Two weeks before the soul is trapped inside the crystal forever, two weeks before it all ended. She had been so hopeful. She thought she could

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save him. She thought there would be enough time. She was too late. “I'm so sorry,” she whimpered, feeling like a failure. Now that Rhaine had abandoned her, and she had lost her papa to the crystal, she was completely alone. “I should have been kinder to you. I should have told you how grateful I am for you. I am grateful for you, Papa. I-” Piper had to wait a while before she had enough courage to say the word. “I love you.” Xavier was staring intently at the necklace. Piper tried to untwine herself from their embrace, but Xavier held fast. He seemed to have forgotten her; eyes locked onto the chipped piece, reaching out his fingers to snatch it. Piper struggled, but Xavier fought her, grabbing hold of her hand and whimpering pathetically. “Just let me-” She coaxed, having a strange, half-hearted tug-of-war. She heard the snap of expensive ribbon and fell backwards with the necklace in her hand. Xavier quickly began to panic. Shrieking, squealing, he bumbled around the room, clawing at his neck, searching for his soul. The crystal glowed dimly in the darkness, and it wasn’t long before Piper’s father spotted it once more. He flew at her again, reaching out for it, but Piper rolled over onto her tummy and clutched the necklace to her chest, hiding it from him. She turned her face to look at him, and in that moment, she saw her father – and he was an animal. Even in the black, his eyes glinted bright. His mouth was stretched taut, like a piece of elastic, his teeth bared. His face was caked in dirt and scratch-marks, his back hunched, squatting on the floor. He reached out to scratch her, to kill her, desperate for his crystal, and Piper shut her eyes, giving up at last. In that split second, for some reason, Xavier paused. He seemed conflicted and whined softly. His eyes cleared, and for a moment Piper saw through the thick mist that had encased him. For that moment, she saw her frightened father: her wonderful, nervous father. She saw him, and she knew that he was waiting for her. The moment ended. Xavier moaned and stalked to the other side of the room. Piper shut her eyes and curled up on the stone floor, clinging on to the necklace, still fully dressed.

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25 The Cellar

Piper opened her sticky eyes. She forgot momentarily where she was, but her heart dropped again as memories clustered together. The two beasts seemed to be asleep, Xavier looking like he’d forgotten about the necklace for a while. Piper slid the snapped ribbon into her pocket. The girl quietly went over to the door and tried to open it. She hoped that maybe Charles Hathoway had forgotten to lock it, or the lock itself was weak, but no matter how hard she tried it wouldn’t open. It was clear that the Dr had no intention of letting her live. Now that he had told her everything, she understood why he wanted her dead. The realisation that this was the room she would die in was terrifying. “I am Piper Morning, and I never give up,” She told herself sternly, but even the sound of her own voice sounded alien to her now. She tried to pick the lock with a twig from her pocket, but it was too thin and snapped while still in the keyhole. She’d tried everything. The girl knew what starvation felt like; she had been on the brink of it multiple times while under the care of Charles Hathoway, but at least she knew she would be fed eventually. The pain that bit into her stomach wasn’t sharp like the other times, but strong, dull, and thumping. She wondered what her father ate. She wondered if Charles would fling meat into the room for him and his friend to seize every few days. For hours Piper lay on the floor, surrounded by the chattering husk of the one person she loved, falling in and out of sleep. Peter Hanford stayed in the corner, never coming closer. What time was it? She didn’t care. She assumed it must be night by now, but it didn’t matter, either way. I don’t want to die like this, she thought weakly, Piper Morning is an adventurer. She’s brave. When Piper Morning dies, she’ll have been felled in a fight with a lion, or she'll have fallen down a great chasm while exploring. It’s not fair. She could hear the creaking of Charles Hathoway's heavy feet above her and wished him dead. She thought of what he’d be doing now, tucking into a wonderful roasted dinner. She imagined him laughing to himself, happy to have single-handedly wiped out the Mornings for good. She was surprised to hear shouting coming from above her. Piper was certain that the Dr had been alone. There was shouting and thudding, and the sound of heavy feet running in circles, running away from something. Then, there was a great thump, and all was quiet. Those are the last sounds I’ll ever hear. There was patter upon the stone steps.

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“Hello?” The voice was familiar. Piper opened her eyes. It was a boy’s voice, not much older than her own, and upon hearing it a fire was sparked inside her. “Rhaine,” She croaked, dragging herself across the floor. She banged on the door with all her might, calling his name. She could hear the light sounds of the boy’s fingers on the wood. “I have the keys, Piper. Move away from the door. Do not worry, it is going to be alright.” The door was unlocked, eased open and Piper could see the faint shape of Rhaine, holding his hand out to her. “I have come to save you. I said I would.” “No, you didn’t.” Piper protested and took his hand. The boy managed to carry her up the stairs, and the two landed in a pile at the top, both exhausted. The girl’s eyes weren’t used to such harsh light, and she put up her hands to protect them. “Oh, Piper, it is really you!” Rhaine crawled up to the girl and gently pulled her hands away from her face. He gasped. “Oh, Spirits! Piper, what happened to you? You look like you have not eaten in days. Do not move, I shall fetch you something.” Piper’s eyes were still closed, but she could hear the boy rushing around the kitchen, working out where everything was. After a few minutes, he brought her another bowl of porridge, thick and oozing with milk. “Eat it, now. I promise you will feel better.” “I want... meat.” “Not just yet. We need to get your stomach used to digesting food again.” His face had gone red, and his eyes were watery. “What has that evil man done to you.” The next thing Piper remembered, she was huddled at the kitchen table, wrapped in a blanket, being spoon-fed warm oats. Rhaine was right: she did feel a little better. “Are you strong enough to talk?” the boy asked tenderly, and Piper nodded. He handed her the spoon and went to sit down opposite her. “I shall start. You were dying. Did he starve you?” Piper nodded slightly, and Rhaine went even paler. “I cannot believe it. I found you just in time. If I had been even an hour or two later, you would have...” Their conversation was interrupted by a groaning coming from the other room. The girl looked at Rhaine accusingly. “What?” he laughed. “I had no choice. I have knocked him out and tied him to the railings.” He stood up and helped Piper finish what was left of her porridge. “We must leave soon,” he said, as he took food from the shelves and put them in his satchel. “or that

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man will wake up before we have gone.” The boy helped Piper up and led her to the front door. He ran up the stairs to the attic and collected her shoulder bag and hat, and left Piper slumped at the table. She heard a faint crooning coming from the cellar and craned her neck to see what it was. The figure of her father poked its head around the door, eyes wide. He crept up to his swaddled daughter and sniffed her curiously, poking his nose in her trouser pocket. He whimpered again, as if pleading. A little of the ribbon from his necklace was poking out, and he reached out his hand to take it. Piper turned around, covering the pocket with her hand, protecting it from her papa. Rhaine came back downstairs but dropped everything when he saw Xavier crouched on the floor. Piper’s bag and books tumbled down the stairs dramatically. “You have found him!” The boy exclaimed and put his back against the wall. Slowly, he approached the man, looking surprised when Xavier did not try to attack him. “The people lost to the crystal are meant to be violent.” he said, curiously examining the docile shape of Piper’s father. The girl showed Rhaine her pocket, and he nodded in understanding when he saw the necklace. “He is like a domestic dog. You have trained him!” Piper shook her head a little, refusing to think of her father as a pet. The two were distracted momentarily by the wild, shrill scramble of nails on stone, and the blur of Peter Hanford as he raced up the cellar steps and made for the door. It had been left open, and it took only a few seconds before he had left the house and raced across the hills, becoming a spot on the horizon. “I wonder who that was.” Rhaine chuckled, finding this mad situation hysterically amusing. The two left the cosy confines of the house, Xavier following close behind. He seemed reassured, knowing that his soul was only metres away, safe in Piper’s pocket, and he made no more attempts at attacking his daughter. The night air had an edge to it, that bit into Piper’s flesh, and she was thankful for the layers of blanket that she was wearing. “I have no idea how I’m going to get you back to camp,” Rhaine thought out loud “for you are so weak. You will collapse on the way.” Silently, Piper nodded towards the sleeping Persephone. Rhaine’s eyes lit up. “Of course!” He ran up to the horse and mounted her easily. “Let me show off my Star-pony riding expertise. We would sometimes have races on them during the warmer times.” He went suddenly pink, slid off the horse and helped Piper get on instead. He piled some more food and water supplies on Persephone’s back, and got on after. He seemed baffled by her reigns. “What strange things,” he muttered, and threw them down onto the grass. Expertly, he led the sleepy horse out of the gate and into the wild, Xavier

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Morning creeping along behind them. As they trotted away, Piper turned to look back at the house, the silhouette of Charles screaming in the window.

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Part 4

The Dulcimer Basin

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26 The First Settlement

The two sat around a fire, warming themselves, eating a feast of wild berries. Xavier lurked a few metres away, watching them, too shy to come closer but too stupid to run away. Piper had filled Rhaine in on her adventures, and he had sat, enraptured, as she gave an account on everything she had discovered. “So, Lillianna did not die on her journey home? That man killed her?” “He beat her to death with a chair.” “What a disappointing way to die. Your mother deserved better.” Rhaine smiled and gestured to the sulking silhouette. “And you have found your father, as well. What an eventful few weeks!” Face softening, he reached out his hand and gently touched Piper’s shoulder. “I am truly sorry about your father, Piper. I cannot imagine what it is like seeing him in this way.” The girl had told herself she wouldn’t cry again, but she didn’t think Rhaine would laugh. He wiped her tears away with his fingers. “We tried, and that is all that matters.” “But - but there must be some way to bring him back. This can’t be it. He can’t be gone.” Rhaine’s face fell. He looked away. “I think-” The boy began. He looked at her again, and then squinted to the mountains beyond. “Unless...” He trailed off, but shook his head, like he was telling himself his thoughts were outrageous. Seeming to have a mental battle, Rhaine suddenly took Piper’s hands in his, a smile lighting up his face. “Bastian told you the story of King Ho-Arlah, the leader of the Arachnids. He was the one who cursed the crystal in the first place. I have been thinking for a while – if we went to their mountain and asked the current Lah to lift the curse, perhaps we can save your father.” “Do you think it’ll work?” “Of course not, but it is the only solution I have. It will probably take a few days to get there, if we go on horseback.” The children had tied Persephone up with a rope around the trunk of a tree. She was revelling in her new-found freedom, happily munching the thick grass. “And you think we can take Papa with us?” “I think so. Keep the necklace on you at all times, though. If he has it for very long, he

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will run away, and we might not see him again.” “It’s horrible looking at him now, when he used to be so... human. He looks more like an ape, now.” The girl mumbled. “Just try not to think about it.” Rhaine reached into the pile of berries and handed them to Piper. She stood and approached her father, who cowered in fear, but eagerly accepted the offer of food. Inspecting each one carefully, he popped them into his mouth and sucked contentedly. Then he curled up underneath the tree and fell asleep. Piper reached into her pocket and brought out the pendant, swinging it on her finger like she had done before. However, Rhaine gasped and snatched it from her. “Hey!” Piper shouted as the boy clutched it close to his chest. “Do not be so careless!” The boy said, breathing heavily. “Smashing a Lost Soul’s crystal is like reaching into your heart, pulling out your soul and letting it go. If the crystal is smashed, the soul is released, and they remain a husk forever. No purpose, just a shell – they might as well be dead.” Piper glanced at her father, sleeping soundly. She took the pendant back and stuffed it deep into her pocket, trying not to think about him or the crystal too deeply. Rhaine looked into his satchel and brought out the tent again, starting to get it ready. “I’m not sleeping another night in that tiny thing and you can’t make me.” Piper said decidedly, folding her arms. Rhaine didn’t protest, and that night the two of them slept under the stars. The sky was clear tonight, and Piper could see the constellation of the warrior woman, looking even more breath-taking in the clear, un-inhabited sky. “Where did you go, Rhaine?” She asked the quiet night. “I thought you’d forgotten me.” “Do not be ridiculous. I thought about you every day since, but I could not help you. The earthquake was too strong. The crack-in-the-land spread, badly, and it was going to enter our forest.” “I thought the forest was magically protected?” “To small things, yes, but if the island splits apart, no magic will be strong enough to stop it. I had to sneak back into the forest and help feed my tribe. We’ve lost even more of us since we left.” Piper knew what starvation felt like now, and for the first time she genuinely felt sorrow for the people in the forest “How is your mother?” She asked, tenderly. “She is fine. The hunger has finally caught her, and she grows weaker every day, but I know we will succeed in time to save her. Bastian has suffered the most, though. He has worked so hard trying to find new sources of food, that he forgot to feed himself. He is

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too weak to lead, and Lora Bianca has had to take over. Let’s hope we can get this over with quickly.” Rhaine said with a smirk, face brightening. “I have my father now, though. He may be soulless, but at least he’s with us. You may not have your mama for long.” She returned the boy's look of confusion by continuing. “There were always two sides to this deal. Rhaine, I’m sorry for being so selfish. Forget my father, I want to help you save your tribe.” “You do?” The pinkness returned to the boy’s face, and his face crumpled. “We need to make a plan. I promised I’d tell my expedition to leave. Asking Charles Hathoway about it won’t help, though, and he’s the Head. I know – Papa told me there was a new import of building supplies somewhere further North. He said there were idle men in Psalterium had agreed to come over here and build some factories. They’re digging up the crystal with machines now. Maybe, if we travelled there and showed Papa to the manager, he’d see the effect of the crystal and we could try to talk some sense into him.” “That sounds like a good idea,” speculated Rhaine, “But what are the chances that it would work? Especially if they see me – that Dr has brainwashed everyone.” “If we find the chief, we might be able to convince them to stop using these machines. How do they know where the crystal is, anyway? Even Moon-tribe does not know the location of every vein.” “You’re right. Thank goodness they don’t have-” Piper said, reaching into her shoulder bag, searching for her diary. But her hands closed on air, nothing else. She got a wave of memories, hearing the slap of leather as the book fell from her bag and hit the wood, in that split-second before Charles Hathoway pushed her into the cellar. The man had Lillianna’s diary, and she knew it wouldn’t be long until he had learnt the whereabouts of Tessa’s tree and the powers that it granted. Time was – as they say – running out quickly. They slept fitfully, and, when the sun rose, packed quickly. It did not take long for them to leave the hills behind, for now they had entered the rocky regions of the mountains. The soft grass of the hills disappeared underfoot, and Piper had to bind her bare feet in thick leaves to stop them from being pricked on the sharp pebbles. Rhaine’s feet were used to rough terrain and he strode out smugly, cushioned by tough skin. Xavier blundered mindlessly in circles, content enough to stay near his soul and explore the vicinity around it. As they neared the great mountain that bordered the upper-most point of the island, the clouds greyed, and thickened. The choking smog got stuck in their throats and made them cough. It was here that they hopped off Persephone’s back, and decided to set her free. It took a while before the horse realised what was happening, but once Rhaine had coaxed her enough she kicked back her feet, whinnied happily and galloped off over the hills.

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Pipe watched the animal leave and tried to look out beyond the ancient rocks. “I can’t see anything!” she said, frustrated. She had expected ominous, brown red-brick buildings, coughing up smoke as they tore up the earth, but all she could see was the empty plains of barren stone. “No, you can. Look!” Rhaine pointed behind them, and Piper saw what he was pointing to. It was a single, rectangular metal-plated box, nestled at the foot of the mountain. Scattered around it, like a ring of mushrooms, lay smaller brick buildings, with flat rooves and no chimneys. It seemed the only chimney at all was on top of the metal box, but for now it was dormant. The shadow of the intimidating mountain was enough to make anyone shiver, but it cast a darkness over the collection of structures and made the one lit window in the box look sinister instead of welcoming. The light coming from this one window was white, not the comforting yellow of oil-lamps. It flickered, and Rhaine stood, spell-bound. He had never seen anything like it. “What is it made of?” He breathed, transfixed. “Metal, I think.” “It’s...” The boy never finished his sentence. The two nodded at each other and began their descent, down the tricky rocks and into the basin of the mountain’s foot. The rock was smoother now, worn down by years of rainfall, but it was obvious that it wasn’t soft. Piper tripped and tumbled a little of the way, receiving a hideous gash on both her elbow and her knee. Rhaine used a few drops of syrup to mend the cuts, and Piper felt completely undermined. “You make it look so easy. I still can’t imagine having such amazing medicine at home.” “I cannot imagine having such wonderful constructions at home!” Despite Rhaine’s enthusiasm, Piper found the building extremely ugly. Lute, her city, had prided itself in being both upper-class and aesthetically pleasing. The metal box that stuck up harshly from the rocks looked like something from the deprived areas. Only the dismal places like Psalterium and glum Gittern would have an eyesore like this on their streets. Now that they were closer, the companions had to work hard to keep Xavier and themselves unseen. The basin was empty, more importantly tree-less, and so they stuck out quite obviously. Occasionally they would find a bush pocking out from a crack in the stone, and they would hide behind it, taking turns to eat and drink. Their water and food supplies were large, but not infinite, and soon Rhaine looked into his satchel, worried. “We’re running out quickly. Mother only packed enough for me, and even then, it was meagre. I was unlucky when I went hunting a few days ago. Do you think we might be able to speak with someone who could give us some food?” Piper burst out laughing. “Of course not! They hate me a lot, and you more. Whatever

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we’ve got, we need to make last. Anyway, I’m sure we can steal something when we’re there.” “Steal?” Rhaine gasped. “We cannot do that. Piper, I am appalled! It is forbidden to steal, so says the Island Spirit. We share all we have. Such an action was forbidden after the battle for Tessa’s tree.” “People steal in Lute all the time. It’s hard to stay rich in Britton, and often people are evicted and left homeless. There were thieves everywhere – on the streets, in the parks, sometimes they’d come to your door, begging. I went out to play with the homeless children, but Father forbade it. He’d call for a policeman to come and sweep them away. I’d walk past the Child House sometimes, and hear the crying coming from inside.” “Your culture is barbaric.” “I think you’re just rude.” “You called us savages!” Piper shrugged, “You’re right.” she said, “I suppose we’re both barbaric.” Admittedly, she knew that the people of Moon-tribe would never dream of locking orphaned youths in cells. They had to stop talking abruptly, for they were now close enough to hear the shouts of tired men coming from the buildings. There was a great hubbub erupting from one of the sites as they tried to cement bricks and piece together tiles, so much so that the two children and their soulless father went unnoticed. They snuck behind one of the buildings, slightly smaller than the rest. Instead of bright brick walls, these were dull and cheap. The windows were thin and rattled with the breeze. Whoever lived in the house must only have had enough money to pay for this cheap home. Hearing the arguments coming from the building site, the children squatted down and took a moment to breathe. Xavier came and lay at Piper’s feet, crooning for the crystal. She ignored him. “I wonder who we should talk to first.” Piper thought out loud. “Do you even know who the chief is?” He asked, but Piper shook her head. “I never met anyone else on the expedition, only Charles and Peter. Anyway, the people here aren’t gentlemen. They’re poor men who want better lives, even with savages living close- by. They’re people with no other choice but to work here.” “You are colonizing? But I thought the expedition was for only researching.” “Not anymore. I suppose Charles deemed it safe enough to live here, now. Sorry, Rhaine.” “It is all fine. I know we shall succeed, even if we have to try everything else first.” “I feel sorry for all these men, though. Psalterium is such an awful place, even worse

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than Gittern. People in Lute and Lyre turn their noses up at them. All they want is to make a fresh start.” “And all we want is to live side-by-side, if anything.” The boy interrupted. “You’re right.” Piper heaved herself up. “While everyone is distracted, let’s sneak into the factory and speak with the manager.” Expecting Rhaine to join her, Piper wondered why Rhaine’s face had paled. She wondered why he was looking at something behind her. The girl slowly turned around, and saw a little boy staring at them.

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27 Emmet Moon

“You’re a child!” Piper was surprised. “You are one of the Boat-folk.” Rhaine whimpered. He stood up, too, and went to hide behind Piper. The child would not say a word. He was completely speechless. In the end, his knees buckled, and he had to steady himself. He was small, a few years younger than Piper and Rhaine. His scruffy hair was a chestnut brown, his sooty face smattered with freckles. His hazel eyes were shiny, and his cheeks were rosy from hours of playing outside. His dungarees were spotted with mud- stains, days-old, and it was obvious that they hadn’t been washed in a while. The shirt that he wore underneath was more brown than white. “Why are you behind my house?” He piped up at last, voice only a squeak. Piper stuck out her chin indignantly, about to make a snide comment, but Rhaine put up his hand and softly approached the boy. “We are hiding,” he said, sounding as light as possible. “It is a game, you see, so you must not tell anyone that we are here.” “You sound funny.” The boy replied. “Are you a savage?” Rhaine winced but nodded anyway. “Yes, I am.” The scruffy boy paused, and for a moment Piper was worried he would run away, screaming. Instead, however, he beamed and stuck out his hand. Rhaine took it awkwardly. “My name is Emmet Moon, nice to meet you” he said cheerily, “and Papa said I can’t talk to you, otherwise you’d eat me, but I’m not scared. You can eat me if you want to, but I’ll eat you first.” Rhaine wasn’t sure how to respond, so laughed a little half-heartedly. “You make a good point. Perhaps I will not eat you.” Emmet looked at Piper, who was still lurking by the wall. “You don’t look like him,” He observed. “No, that’s right.” she said. “I’m from Britton, and I’m the only child on the expedition.” “No, you’re not!” Emmet laughed, “I am! Papa said so especially.” “Well, he was wrong. You’re not part of the expedition because you’re from Psalterium: you don’t count.”

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“Piper!” Rhaine said harshly, and the girl folded her arms. “Sorry.” She grumbled gruffly. “Who’s that?” The boy asked, pointed at the withered Xavier, who was clinging on to Piper’s leg. “That’s none of your business.” “He looks strange. His face is a man’s, but he acts like a monkey.” “My father is not a monkey!” Piper shouted, spraying spittle at the boy. She glanced sharply at the quiet air, and covered her mouth, worried she had been heard. Emmet glared at Piper, losing interest in her, and spoke again to Rhaine. “What do people taste like?” The look of horror on the native’s face went unregistered. “If I ask nicely, can I have some?” “Ah - no, actually. I have just eaten, and I will not eat again for a while.” Emmet drooped, disappointed. “Father said guests should always be invited back for tea. Let's go inside. I can show you my book on astrology.” Emmet took the bewildered Rhaine’s hand and led him to the front of the building. “Is your papa in there?” He asked, trying to pull free. “No, it’s just me. He’s building houses on the other side of the basin, so he won’t be back for a few hours. There’s tea, and I can boil water like a grown-up. I’ll make some for you.” He skipped up the steps to the blue front door and opened it. Piper, Rhaine and Xavier went inside quickly, careful not to be exposed for too long. They hoped no-one had spotted them. Emmet took them into the tiny kitchen, with crooked black-and-white tiles on the floor, and boiled some water in a pan. He put in too few tea leaves, and scorched the water far too hot, but Rhaine accepted it with a smile and drank determinedly. Piper wasn’t offered any tea, but she would have refused anyway. “Why are you in the Dulcimer Basin, Mr Savage?” Emmet asked, as he pottered around the kitchen, showing off. “The what?” “The Dulcimer Basin. The settlement.” Emmet said slowly, deliberately speaking to Rhaine like he was stupid. “Oh, right – yes, the basin. We have come to speak with your chief about Tessa’s crystal.” The boy yelped as he felt Piper’s foot dig deep into his own. She gave him a look. Don’t give away too much. You don’t know who he might tell. “You know about the crystal, too! I think it’s brilliant. Papa says I might even be allowed to have my own necklace once the factory is running.”

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“How lovely,” Rhaine attempted a smile. “You must feel very lucky.” “Oh, I do. I was especially chosen to be the only child on the ship, because Papa said that I was the bravest child in Britton. I’m an explorer, that’s why.” “An explorer?” Rhaine had to bite his tongue to stop himself laughing. He could feel the heat of Piper’s jealousy on his neck. “I’ve explored all over. I went down to the beach, and I found a cavern in one of the cliffs, and I was even brave enough to go inside. I bet you wouldn’t be brave enough to explore a big cavern like that.” “No, you’re right.” Rhaine drained what was left of his tea and thanked Emmet for such a delicious drink. He went over to the chipped counter and floundered at the sink until Piper went over to help him. She took his mug and washed it instead. “I’m bored,” Emmet said, “Do you want to come to the mountain foot with me? I made a camp there, and I can cook you some food.” He pointed out of the window a way away, to the base of the rocky incline, to a smudge of canvas. “Look, I even made a tent. It took a while, because I didn’t know how, but I wanted to live like one of the savages.” Piper looked at the messy little camp and shook her head. “We don’t want to come with you.” “Sorry, but I do not think we can.” Rhaine corrected. Both of the children knew that the journey there would lead them directly across the basin, leaving them in plain sight of everyone. “It is getting late, and we must go. Your chief is eager to meet us.” “My chief? I think you mean the Doctor. Anyway, it’s not even mid-day, yet. Please come with me – if you do, I’ll give you one of my stones.” Emmet reached into his pocket and brought out a painted rock. The word ‘Doctor’ set off alarm bells in Piper’s head. “We don’t want your rocks.” she said, and Emmet drooped. “But we do want to know about the Dr.” “If I tell you, will you come to my camp with me?” He asked hopefully. “Yes, we will.” “Fine, then: she’s the woman that brought us all here. She put up posters all around Psalterium, and Papa went to sign up. I haven’t met her, but I’ve heard she’s nice.” “She?” Piper breathed. A woman? A woman on an expedition? That was unheard of. She felt her skin itch with excitement. She’d only ever met one gentlewoman in her life: A frumpy old lady who was married to the Count and didn’t talk a lot. She wondered if it was the same person. “What’s her name?” “Dr Ophelia Bertrand.” Ophelia Bertrand, the woman whom Lillianna had loved so dearly: Piper’s Bonemother. From what the girl could remember, Ophelia was not a gentlewoman. She

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was the wife of a clerk and they lived in a modest flat on the outskirts of Lyre. Ophelia Bertrand was certainly no doctor; women weren’t allowed to be doctors. “Is she here now?” “I don’t know, and I don’t care. Let’s go, otherwise Papa will come back and I’ll have to start the chores again.” He took them back outside the house, but Rhaine insisted they play another game. “It is called ‘hide from the sun’,” He suggested. “And you must stay in the shadows at all times, otherwise you lose.” “That sounds boring. It’d take twice as long to get there.” “I see,” Rhaine sighed. “I knew it would be too grown-up for you.” “No, that’s not what I mean. Actually, maybe I do want to play.” He raced off behind another house, and the three followed. Xavier was exhausted, and trundled slowly behind, sniffing piteously - Piper had forgotten to feed him. They hid behind another house, making sure to stay out of the sun’s rays. Emmet tried to show them how good he was, using their own shadows to hide in. “You’re not even trying,” He complained. “The sun’s touched you three times: I was counting.” “Well, that’s because you’re better than us. Let’s keep playing and see if it’s just beginner’s luck.” They had cleverly avoided traveling directly across the basin and managed to reach Emmet’s little camp without mishap. He had pieced together some drab squares of canvas and stuck them around a log wedged in the earth. There were remnants of a clumsy campfire, and bits of twig and fabric were scattered here and there: evidence of intense imaginary battles. “Come and play with me,” Emmet said, bounding over to one of his twigs and picking it up. It had snips of wool glued over it with tree sap. “This is the mighty Dr Hathoway,” He declared, “and he has arrived in New Britton to come and defeat the Savages once and for all.” The boy picked up a handful of twigs and handed them to Rhaine. "Here, you be the savages.” Piper’s companion reluctantly knelt down and acted out a dramatic battle scene: Emmet emerging victorious, of course. Piper sulked in the tent, muttering darkly to Xavier. “Papa will be wondering where I am,” The boy said sadly, after he’d grown tired of playing. “I should probably go home. Come with me, and I’ll introduce you.” “Oh - no thank you.” Rhaine said quickly. “I am incredibly shy. Anyway, your father may not be brave enough to meet a savage like me.” “Yes, you’re right. Maybe that’s a good idea.”

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“However, we do like your camp.” Piper butted in, emerging from the tent with a forced grin. “We want to sleep here for the night.” “Why? It’s my tent, you can’t have it.” “But you’re not using it.” “That’s because I don’t want to!” “Didn’t your precious father ever teach you to share?” That was enough. Emmet’s face went red, his eyes screwed close, his bottom lip curled, and it began to wobble furiously. “Why’re you so mean?” He gulped, and Rhaine offered him a kind pat on the back to comfort him. “I’m so sorry. Piper can get a little agitated sometimes.” Whatever emotions Emmet was feeling dried up in seconds. For the first time, he properly inspected the girl, looking intently at her shirt, her muddy trousers. “You are Piper Morning!” He exclaimed, backing away, as if he’d seen a ghost. “You are dead! The savages ate you weeks ago.” Piper gasped, “What?” she shot a look at Rhaine, who seemed equally worried. “Yes, Charles Hathoway said so. He told us about Xavier and his daughter who were gobbled up in the middle of the night. He told us to be careful, because we might be next.” “But that’s not true! Neither of us are dead, just like Peter Hanford wasn’t dead.” “Or Mr Roberts?” Ventured Emmet, who looked curiously into Piper’s eyes. “Because I really want to meet him.” “None of us are dead, it’s just Charles Hathoway spreading propaganda.” “And the savages won’t eat me?” Emmet looked more disappointed than relieved as he cleared away his various twigs and toys. “No, we won’t” Rhaine chipped in, offering his help putting the child’s toys into a cloth satchel. They rustled messily around inside, coming lose as they did so, but Emmet didn’t seem to care and simply re-did the twine. “That’s disappointing, I was really looking forward to trying human. Are you sure you can’t give me a little bit?” “I can’t give you anything to eat, but if you let us sleep here for the night, I can show you some of my magic!” Rhaine suggested expectantly, and Emmet looked suitably enthusiastic. The twilight sun was blocked by the mountain, and the companions found themselves cast in shadows as Emmet left the camp to go back home. Xavier, they tied to a skeletal tree trunk with a rope around his neck, leaving him mumbling to himself and biting his nails in agitation.

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They shuffled into the scruffy tent and finished off what was left of their berries, knowing that tomorrow they would have nothing to eat. Rhaine suggested asking Emmet for some food, but they decided against it. They tried to forget their stomachs and focused on the great brick factory glowing in the moonlight.

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28 Bonemother

Piper had to wake Rhaine the next morning, for he was so fatigued from their encounter that he had slept in. They left the tent even before the birds were twittering, for they wanted to eliminate the risk of being seen by the men. They found the agitated face of Emmet pressed against the upstairs window, waiting for them to arrive. Rhaine and Piper hadn’t anticipated the boy to be up this early but, as he explained to them, he just couldn’t wait. “What kind of magic do you do? Can you fly? Do you have wings?” Emmet looked at Rhaine’s back, almost as if he was expecting to find two feathery appendages attached to his back. “No, I cannot, but I can do something much more amazing.” Rhaine plucked from the ground a sharp pebble and sliced through the palm of his hand, letting the blood drip onto his toes. Emmet gasped but did not say a word as Rhaine took from his bag some herbs and spring-water, and healed his cut within a minute. “Me next! Do it to me!” He pleaded, only satisfied when Rhaine had put a little nick in his own palm. He watched in amazement as the skin closed. “Teach me, Rhaine! I want to know how to do it, too. Please.” “Sorry, Emmet, but healing can only be taught to those with years of practice. I will happily teach you the names of the herbs, though.” “Yes!” Piper had to intervene and dragged Rhaine away before he had the chance to envelop himself and get distracted. “We have to go and speak to Ophelia now,” She rolled her eyes. “We shall be back soon!” Emmet nodded and retreated back inside his house, closing the door slowly and creeping up the stairs to his room in case his Papa woke up. Piper and Rhaine checked to see that no-one was looking and sprinted into the middle of the basin. Xavier thought they were playing a game, and lolloped about beside them, not caring whether he was spotted. They reached the towering doubled doors of the building and wondered whether they should knock. “I don’t think we should,” Piper said, “I want to surprise her.” They checked to see if the door was open at all, twisted the brass knob and entered. Inside was a large hall with high ceilings and tinted windows that let in light. Beams

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supported the plastered ceiling, positioned at intervals, thick poles of cast iron that would easily knock a tooth out. The floor was oak boards, gathering dust, the dull colour of the polish showing no-one had scrubbed them in a while. Workstations dotted the floor in long queues, each an identical wooden surface with various fine-tuning tools, such as cloths and sharp picks. Along one wall was a rubber conveyor belt, dormant for now, with a hole in the wall on either side for the chunks of crystal to come out of. There was not a soul to be seen, and the children could roam freely. In the corner of this room was a tall spiral staircase, that wound up and up until it disappeared into the ceiling. Piper and Rhaine ventured up to it, feeling the chill of the metal on their hands, and began making their ascent. The patter of their feet sent soft twangs echoing throughout the hall. Up and up they went, trying to see what was at the top of the staircase, but all was black. Piper arrived first and noted that this room was built into the roof. There was a door to one side, with frosted glass hiding whatever was behind it. Rhaine and Xavier followed after her, and the three could hear someone working. It was obviously a woman’s voice. Piper felt her hands shaking as she readied her fist to knock. “Come in!” There was a slight expectancy in the tone, as if the voice had known they were coming. Piper guided Xavier over to a corner of the room, got out her pendant and gave it to him. “Wait here. I’ll get you when we’re ready.” The girl said. She opened the door sheepishly, and she and Rhaine entered. It was a light little study, with windows studding the walls, and paintings softly hung in the gaps between. The filings cabinets and paper on the desk were neat – in fact, everything was tidy and in its place. The carpet was thin but stylish, and the wallpaper patterned with blue flowers. A jug of warm lavender water infused the air with its sweet smell, that wafted up Rhaine’s nose and made him cough: he had never smelt lavender before. The only thing that wasn’t still was the woman who sat scribbling at the desk, too focused even to look up. Her half-moon glasses were balanced precariously on her nose, in danger of tipping off, behind which two brown eyes were set in pink skin. Her red nose flared in concentration, nostrils quivering with every breath. She was biting her bottom lip raw. Her hair was a mousy brown, that fell to her shoulders and hid her forehead with a limp fringe. Over her small frame she wore a blue woollen cardigan with a white shirt, and her skirt was a dark navy. On her hands where a pair of black leather gloves with a sheen that reflected her face. She looked up dreamily and jumped when she saw two dirty children standing in her doorway. “Oh my!” The woman said, flinging her quill across the room, knocking over her

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inkwell and spilling ink all over her desk. Hastily, she plucked some blue tissue paper from a box next to her paperweights and began dabbing at the spreading stain. “Good morning, Doctor Bertrand.” Rhaine said, smiling. He went up to the desk and balled his hands into to fists as greeting, an action not returned by the flabbergasted woman. Piper was equally shocked, as she hadn’t seen her Bonemother for eleven years, and couldn’t form the words in her mouth. She decided to let Rhaine talk for now and stayed in the doorway. Ophelia Bertrand, calming herself from that little episode, flicked the fringe out of her eyes and clasped her gloved hands together. She smiled demurely, however the nervousness that hid behind her eyes and clung to her fidgeting nostrils made it obvious that she was anything but. “Well, you’re not Charles Hathoway!” she said, giggling to herself - although there was a quiver in her voice. She got up from her desk and took a glance at Rhaine, with his bare chest and feathered skirt, and looked very frightened. “You’re not the savage everyone’s been talking about, are you?” She asked, staring him up and down, though there was no malice in her eyes. “Judging by who I am travelling with, probably yes. My name is Rhaine: I am Piper’s companion.” “Well, you’re certainly less cannibalistic than Charles made you out to be.” Ophelia seemed surprised at Rhaine’s ready smile and polite manners and shook hands with him gently. Then she looked at Piper, who wasn’t sure how to react. “I can’t believe it’s been this long, Piper Morning.” she said, looking like she wanted to hug the girl, but thought better of it. Instead, she returned to her seat and looked expectantly at the two. “I must say, this visit wasn’t in my calendar. Did you two make an appointment?” She was obviously joking, but Rhaine, not understanding sarcasm, jumped in and began explaining. “Actually, no, and we are deeply sorry for it. You see, we have come straight from the hills and only arrived last night, and we know you are very busy, but we have to discuss something extremely important.” “Important, eh? Hopefully more important than an ivy break-in.” The woman yawned, opening her mouth wide and showing rows of crooked teeth. “I apologise. I’ve never managed a large group like this before: I’m still trying to get my head around it.” “Women aren’t allowed to be managers, though; it’s the law.” Piper said suddenly. Ophelia’s glasses steamed up and her cheeks flushed. She mumbled “Normally you’re right, Piper, but I was an exception.”, and then set to work re-filling her inkwell from a keg in the corner.

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“That does not affect what we wish to discuss, however.” Rhaine nodded meaningfully at the girl, and she reached into her pocket. “We have come to stop you digging up Tessa’s crystal, as it will kill us all.” For the first time, Ophelia looked like she was listening. Once she had got her quill and ink set up again, she leaned forward at her desk and waited for the boy to continue. “The crystal is cursed. It has been for centuries, and we have brought proof.” Piper, who should have led in Xavier at this point, was still looking around the attic. Her father had vanished.

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29 A Betrayal

“I’d like to see this proof, please.” Dr Bertrand looked even more curious, though there was now worry in her expression. Piper frantically continued her search as Rhaine’s worry lines reappeared. “Have you lost something?” Asked Ophelia kindly, though neither child replied. Piper darted out of the office and looked around the rest of the attic, praying that she would find him. Of course, the moment he had the crystal he would run away. He didn’t love her. He was only docile with her because she had his soul, and now he’d got it back, Xavier had run away. Without any warning, Piper skidded down the spiral staircase, looking into every corner, every hideaway of the huge hall. Xavier could not be seen. Rhaine tumbled after her, the two reached the bottom and set to work looking under every workstation, even taking the time to climb onto the conveyor belt and look for him in there, but to no avail. “Could he have got outside?” “Papa can’t open doors - at least, not right now- he doesn’t know how.” Piper gestured to the two double doors that were very clearly still shut. The boy drooped, giving up at last, and then noticed something that was set into the wall. He was surprised he hadn’t seen it before. “What about that one?” It was another door, smaller, about the size of a man, made of metal, and it had been flung wide open. The companions went over to the door and crept through; in case they might frighten Xavier. Inside, this room was smaller than the hall – much smaller. It was only the size of Charles’ library, with dim lights hung in strips and a cold floor. The walls weren’t plastered, but metal-plated like the ones outside, and they meant distorted reflections of the children looked back at them as they entered. It was mostly bare, apart from a rack of lab coats, some glass goggles and a tank in the middle of the room, where a black mound sat shivering. Wedged in the corner was the chattering shape of Xavier, and Piper approached him carefully. She reached out her hand to touch him on the shoulder, but Xavier screeched and tried to bite her fingers. Piper yelled and reeled back as she soothed the welded teeth marks. Xavier was holding his pendant in his hands, trying to get his soul out. He looked so pathetic that Piper wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. She tried to remember how she got the pendant from him last time and lowered herself onto her knees. She crawled up to him slowly, stopping when he shied away, and then their faces were next to each other. She locked his gaze, and, without looking, reached

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out her hand until she could feel the pendant’s cool surface. Then she yanked it away, and Xavier wasn’t prepared to cling on to it. The moment it had left his hand he panicked, and started to hop around the room, wailing. Piper got to her feet, putting the pendant back in her pocket, and returned to Rhaine. Xavier slowed his wails now, and reluctantly returned to Piper’s side. “Goodness!” Ophelia’s voice came from behind. Her shadow was in the doorway, and she was breathing heavily under her soft cardigan. Her nostrils flared even more aggressively, and she bit her bottom lip hard to quiet them. “Here is your proof, Doctor Bertrand.” Rhaine presented Xavier to the woman, who swooned at the sight of him. “Oh, Xavier!” she said faintly. “What’s happened to you?” “This is the price you pay for digging up our crystal,” The boy continued. “It steals your soul, and soon you are left with nothing but an empty body.” “Surely not the crystal...” Ophelia reached down her shirt and pulled out a similar pendant, on a baby blue piece of ribbon. “Surely that can’t be what did that to him? We all have these, and we’re in good health.” “You won’t be for long, Ophelia.” Piper said. “You have two weeks at the most.” The lady gasped again, “We were only given these a week ago – do I still have time?” “You do if you are lucky, but you must stop digging it up.” “Oh, I will. I shall tell everyone they must pack their bags and leave-” Ophelia put her head in her hands, sighing. “But what will I do with the men that have agreed to help? They’ve put themselves into redundancy just coming here.” “We will find jobs for them to do, if you let us.” There was a twinkle in Rhaine’s eyes that looked like a modest spark of hope, as if he felt he was finally being listened to. “My people would be more than happy to share our island: in fact, it is what we have wanted since the beginning, Lillianna promised, and we agreed.” The grimace of worry that was once on Ophelia’s face vanished, and her eyes darkened. “Lillianna had nothing to do with this expedition.” “You’re wrong, though,” Piper spoke for Rhaine, who quickly realised he’d said too much. “Mama arrived in The Hartlands before anyone else in Britton, even Charles Hathoway. She documented everything, but when she returned home Charles murdered her and passed the work off as his own.” Ophelia looked baffled, chuckling to herself. “She’s beaten me to it once again,” The woman looked deeply sad for a moment, but tucked the emotion away behind her eyes. “If what you’re saying is true,” She began, “which I’m starting to believe is not the case, then I shouldn’t be here at all. I’m sorry you had to see It, anyway.” It was a few moments before Piper noticed what Ophelia was talking about. She had been too busy focusing on Xavier to notice what was inside the glass tank, and it sent a

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cold scuttle down her back. The quivering black mound was alive, it was waking up and it had eight monstrous legs.

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30 Moon-Tribe Gathers

Piper couldn’t believe it. It was Spider, from the forest. She watched as he stretched and turned to face her, eyes blinking as he too realised what was happening. “Girl...” He whispered; voice barely audible above the hum of the electric lights. He scuttled slowly over to the edge of the tank, trying to get closer to her but the glass blocked his way. Instead, Piper did the work and pressed her hands against it. “I am glad you have come, for I am nearly dead. I am glad someone can remember me, albeit if your people were the ones who I am dying for.” There was a slight edge to Spider’s voice, the first lilt of humour she had heard from the beast. “I tried to escape the forest and return home... but I was not successful. Nearing my cave, your people trapped me and put me in this container for studying-” “Spider don’t explain. Save your energy; I don’t want you to die because of me.” “But you want to know, I read your thoughts.” “The spider can talk?” The woman was shaking her head, “This day just keeps getting stranger, and it’s only the morning.” Then, without warning, she took Rhaine by the hand. He jumped, and tried to pull away, but Ophelia’s grip was tight. “I have a proposal to make you,” she said with a genuine smile. “I’m afraid Piper can’t hear it though, so can we go outside for a bit?” “Of course,” Rhaine looked back at Piper and let her Bonemother lead him out the door. “What a polite child you are. Politer even then some of the children in Britton. A perfect fit.” she said, clicking the door shut. Piper returned her attention to Spider, who was steadfastly holding his gaze. Immediately she sprang into action, using the glass and her feet to climb up the tank and release the beast. There was a padlock on top of the tank, but there was an emergency key behind some glass on the wall, and Piper used that to unlock it. She swung open the top of the tank and hitched herself up, jumping down and joining Spider at the bottom. Then she helped him use his sticky legs to climb back up the glass and get out, and then he was free. “I did not ask you to save me,” Spider said, but even so his jaws clacked in excitement. Piper grinned as she and the beast went over to the door. When she tried to open it, however it wouldn’t budge. Had her Bonemother locked it? She couldn’t see behind, but

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even when she strained her ears Piper couldn’t hear anyone outside. Ophelia and Rhaine had left, and she hadn’t noticed. Piper gave up quickly, knowing too well that trying wouldn’t help. She had been betrayed yet again, but this time at least she had company. “This soul has been lost.” Spider said as he observed Xavier. “I see you have his pendant... but Lost Souls are violent, and he is not. You have drugged him with Sleeping Willowfruit.” “I haven’t.” The girl insisted. Spider was surprised – as surprised as a beast can be. “That is not possible, girl, for Lost Souls will do all in their power to stay with their soul. If you are right, then he has exceptional willpower.” “If you’d met him, you’d know that was far from true.” Piper sat down with the wall as a back-rest and sat silent, waiting for Rhaine to return. She knew he would do anything he could to get back to her, but even so... she knew he valued his tribe more. If he’d been given the chance to save his mother in return for Piper, she knew what he would choose. In truth, she didn’t blame him. She’d put him through enough already, and a break must have sounded blissful. An idea entered her head. “Spider, can you hear Rhaine’s thoughts?” The beast paused, then shut his numerous eyes and fell quiet, leaving Piper’s heartbeat all that could be heard. “I can, yes... he is frightened. He wishes to return to you but is unable. It is cloudy there onwards: his anxiety is too thick to wade through.” Piper was exasperated. “But that’s not enough!” she said. “Listen to Ophelia.” Spider had to take more time before his eyes opened again. “Her mind is a thunderstorm, girl... I am trying to find a pebble within an ocean of sand.” At last he breathed fully, “The woman wants him – she wants your companion. She needs him or she can never be happy, never be complete.” “Can you hear any more?” “She misses her...son.” Ophelia’s only son, Cecil. He had died when he was only a baby from fever, and Piper’s Bonemother had never recovered. If Cecil hadn’t died so young, they’d be the same age. “The woman wants him,” Spider had said. He said Ophelia needed Rhaine or she could never be happy. “I am receiving more... I see a suit, a pair of scissors, a bath. The woman transforms him.” What was Ophelia doing to Rhaine?

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“She does it because he is kind. She does it because he is a ghost.” Rhaine was Piper’s age. Cecil would be Piper’s age. It had occurred peculiar how unaffected Ophelia was by seeing a native for the first time - in fact she looked pleased. She had complimented him on his manners - she had called him a perfect fit. Was she turning Rhaine into her dead son? Piper rattled the door harder now, trying to stop her Bonemother before it was too late. Her mind clouded as she focused on one thing – saving her companion. But the mists were getting thicker, and soon all she could hear was a familiar voice, as clear as bells. Rhaine is in danger. Go to him and he shall be saved. It was Spider’s voice, ringing clear in her mind. But it was only in her mind, for the beast’s mouth was not moving. Piper Morning is in danger. Got to her and she shall be saved. “Spider, what are you doing?” The girl asked, but the beast was concentrating too hard to reply. The Hartlands are in danger. Find the children and you will be saved. The girl broke away, letting the glassy sounds wash over her like waves. The Arachnids are waiting for you. Come to the Sleeping Mountain before time has run dry. Spider opened his eyes, and the mists cleared. He swooned dramatically, and Piper had to grab his abdomen and help him fall down lightly. Whatever he had just done had drained any energy left, for he seemed unable to move. “I cannot just receive thoughts...” He croaked, letting his legs lie limp. “But I can send them also. My cry for help has been heard by every beast, every bird and every person on this island, and they are coming – I can sense them.” Piper didn’t have to say a word; Spider knew how grateful she was, so instead the girl helped him into a comfortable position and sat down next to him. “I hate waiting.” “I know you do, girl. Your soul wishes to fly, like so many others, but it has been trapped in a cage and strains to get out. I can see it in your head... you are like your mother.” Piper couldn’t see the sun, but she knew that time was ticking by slowly. She and Spider’s conversation eventually dried up, so she set to work trying to calm Xavier. Being locked in this room had reminded him of his time in the cellar, and he was having a fit. The girl looked closely at the pendant, wondering if perhaps she’d be able to see his soul trapped inside. But it was clear and completely unassuming. “Spider, can you look into someone else's thoughts?” The girl asked suddenly, and the beast agreed now that he had regained some strength.

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“I want you to look into Father’s, if he even has any left. I just want to know he’s still in there, somewhere.” Spider let himself relax, and the air fell silent. “It is hard to distinguish. His mind is like an animal’s: present, primitive. He is thinking: food. Must eat food soon, or I die... but there is also something else there, something small. There is a seed in his head, waiting to grow, waiting to be nurtured... I believe that is what is left of his soul, girl. He knows you are with him and he feels safe being with you.” “He is safe.” Piper echoed, looking deep into Xavier’s eyes, waiting for a sign. “He tried to attack me once, the first time we met, but for some reason he didn’t, and I don’t know why.” “He must love you very much.” “I doubt it, Spider.” “You think you know everything girl... but you are wrong – just like when you trusted that woman and she locked you here. Do not be so quick to judge, for you can always be proved wrong. Lost Souls are violent, as I’ve said before... if your father had not loved you, you would be dead.” The girl would have said some more, if she hadn’t heard a calm click coming from the door. She snapped her head around as the door was opened. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Face pulled taut with worry. Someone Piper had expected never to see again. It was Esther – she had returned.

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31 Rhaine’s Mother

“Oh, Piper!” The woman ran to the girl and choked her with a desperate embrace. She was evidently thinner than when Piper had left, for her arms felt like they would snap if the wind changed direction. Her poor cheek bones cast huge shadows over the rest of her face, and she could tell that the woman found it hard to stand. “Where is he? Great Island Spirit, am I too late?” “I don’t think so,” Piper said, “Spider says Rhaine is still alive.” “Spider?” Esther clocked the beast that was trying to stay inconspicuous and rushed over to it. “Are you the one who sent us those thoughts?” Spider clacked his jaws, not uttering a word, but Esther knew. She kissed him lightly on the leg as a thank you. The brooding Xavier caught her eye and she gasped. “That’s my father,” Piper said quietly, and Esther gave her another hug. “I am so sorry, my darling. Remember, you are not alone: you still have Moon-tribe.” She looked at the beast, who seemed startled at how calm the woman was. “Spider, what are they doing to Rhaine?” “We don’t know.” Piper interrupted, knowing the beast would prefer to stay silent. “Ophelia, the woman who has taken him, lost her son years ago. We think she might be trying to replace Cecil with Rhaine.” “Then there is no time to waste!” “Esther, how did you get here so quickly? It took me and Rhaine days to walk.” The woman smiled “That is because we were not walking. Come,” She took Piper out of the room, across the great factory floor and out the big double doors. Gusts of wind buffeted Piper’s hair across her face, and she had to hold on to Esther in fear of being blown away. She looked and knew immediately what Esther had been referring to. They were Jaguahs – four, great Jaguahs had landed in the basin, and were sending the men running in all directions. It was such a funny image it made Piper want to laugh out loud. She looked up, and saw, cutting across the sky, the biggest Jaguah of them all. Its wings were spread majestically, longer than any man, and it landed lightly. On its back sat Bastian, and behind him was Lora Bianca. He hitched himself over the top of the beast and helped the blindfolded woman down afterwards. “Piper Morning!” She called over the waves of wind. “We meet once more!” The Jaguah spotted the scruffy girl and purred lightly. “Do you remember me, lost girl?

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I have brought my babies to help you,” Piper didn’t dare approach the huge wildcat, as she remembered clearly that it had tried to kill her. “Do not be scared, lost girl – I will not eat you. In the forest, you did not tell me that you were Piper Morning. You look very tasty still, however I have been warned.” Bastian’s cheeks were rosy, his eyes were bright, and he was smirking timidly. The man took a breath of the electric air. “A storm is coming,” He told Cora the guard, who stood to attention beside him. “We cannot stay long, for The Island grows angrier every day.” Piper spotted the shocked face of Emmet standing, frozen, by one of the Jaguahs. His little mouth hung open stupidly, not even noticing the strength of the wind. He slowly walked up to the tall figure of Bastian and stuck out a shaking hand. “My name’s Emmet Moon,” he stuttered, “nice to meet you.” Bastian looked down at the trembling boy, and grimaced. “Go home, little one, or we shall eat you.” Emmet stuck out his chin “I know that’s a lie; Rhaine told me.” The chief was startled. “You’ve talked to him – I hope you kept it a secret." “Of course I did, I’m not stupid.” The boy spotted Piper watching the exchange and popped his tongue out to waggle at her. She mirrored him, and then Emmet ran back to his house. In only a few moments his face could be seen pressed against the windowpane. He was the last of the Brittons left in the basin, for the rest of them had taken refuge in their homes, terrified of the Jaguahs and, more importantly, the natives. “Where is he, Piper?” Esther asked, looking through every window and into every room of the houses. “I don’t know. Probably in Ophelia’s house, but I have no idea where it-” Piper was going to say, “I have no idea know where it is,”, until she saw the house on the edge of the ring. It was clearly the most expensive: the bricks were a bright red, expertly laid and perfectly aligned. The door was a soft blue, identical to the blue-painted window frames, and honeysuckle grew up the side. This was a flower not indigenous to The Hartlands, so whoever owned the house must have paid for it to be transported over. This was Ophelia’s house, and Piper knew it. “It’s that one, over there. It has to be.” She and Rhaine’s mother left the group and went up the fancy wooden steps of the front porch. The door wasn’t locked, but Piper knew better than to barge in loudly. She eased it open a crack and peered inside. Like Ophelia’s study, the walls were plastered blue, and the carpet was a soft cream. Lavender hung in the air like a sleepy butterfly, making Piper feel dizzy, it was so thick. She could hear faint murmurs escaping from a room upstairs, so Piper and Esther climbed the staircase to try and track down the source of the voices. The girl noted that it was a man and a woman’s - the woman was Ophelia. The man, however, was speaking

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so quietly she couldn’t work out who it was. Through a crack in the door Piper spotted a striped blazer, a straw boater. Charles Hathoway had obviously come to pay Ophelia a visit. “And you are sure it is locked?” The man said in his low voice, and Dr Bertrand nodded. “I’m sure. I left her in the room with the spider, the one with the reinforced walls. Without that key it’s impossible to get out.” “Did you take the key with you?” “No, but -” “Then Piper will have escaped! She’s a crafty child, she’ll have got someone to help her.” “But she won’t leave without Cecil, and that I can confirm. They seem to be really close.” Cecil? Piper turned her attention to Esther, who wasn’t listening to the conversation, but to a scuffling emanating from the room next door. These feet were not heavy or clumsy like an adult’s, but soft. Each pad was careful and thought through, and Piper knew who was behind the door before she’d even seen him. Rhaine had his back to them when the entered, but the girl could tell immediately that something was wrong. His dark skin was covered with a starched shirt; his skirt had been replaced with brown corduroy trousers, held up with elastic braces. His beautiful chestnut ponytail had been sliced off, and now his hair was short. When Rhaine spotted her, he hid his face, too embarrassed to speak, sobbing silently. Piper sidled up to him and gave the boy an awkward hug, cupping his poor shorn head in her hands while Esther hovered in the doorway. Angry tears tracked down her cheeks, face bright red with fury. Rhaine cried even harder when he saw his mother, feeling ashamed, “I am so sorry,” He wept, but Esther quieted the boy and took his hands in her own. “This is not your fault,” she said, “It is theirs. They are wicked.” “I have turned my back on our culture, Mother. I am going to end up in the Badlands.” “Stop thinking that immediately: you are the bravest of all of us. When you die, I am certain the Island Spirit will personally send her arms to thank you – she would be a fool not to.” Rhaine winced when his mother blasphemed but looked grateful. “She has called me Cecil, and I am her new son. Ophelia has adopted me; Charles Hathoway said he would kill Piper if I said no.” “They’ve been working together the entire time,” Piper marvelled at herself for being so gullible: the idea of meeting a woman doctor had made her naïve. “It is the whole reason why she came here in the first place – to adopt a native and steer it away from ‘the path of ignorance’. She wants me to go back to Britton with her once her contract is finished.” “Do not be ridiculous,” Esther’s rage was dripping from her tongue. “You have already

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got a mother. How dare they take you away.” Letting go of her son’s hands, she left the room. Rhaine and Piper scrambled up, half-whispering, half-yelling at her to come back, but she was already barging into the room to confront the accomplices. Ophelia Bertrand, who had been idly sipping tea, took one look at the woman and dropped her cup. She seemed to have a habit of spilling things when she was surprised. As the hot liquid seeped into the carpet, Esther stormed up to the woman and kicked her expertly in the knee. Ophelia staggered and fell to the floor, yelling loudly, half-moon glasses knocked askew. Charles Hathoway exclaimed in surprise, and tried to run to the door, but Piper and Rhaine blocked his way. He attempted to push past the two children, but they took hold of both arms and threw him to Esther, who punched him in the jaw. The man also ended up on the floor, and Rhaine’s mother was triumphant. “You underestimated us,” she said to the dazed Ophelia, panting. “You thought you were better than us, but you were wrong. We are not the ones you should be afraid of: you should be afraid of yourselves. Never touch my son-” “Charles, don’t!” Ophelia’s wild eyes darted across the room. An ear-splitting shot rang out through the house, and Esther jerked suddenly. She lost her balance and fell against the wall, blood dripping from her stomach. Her white skin paled as she slumped on the carpet, too weak to move. It was the gun Charles had threatened Piper with, days before. The girl hadn’t thought he would actually use it. The sound of it’s awful cry lingered in the air. Rhaine ran to Esther’s side, pressing his fingers against the wound, blood mixing with tears. He muttered to her, trying to keep her conscious, but it was clear that Esther was slipping away, fast. Piper scrambled over to help them, looking in her pockets for anything to bandage the wound, but she came out empty. Charles immediately got to his feet, dragging Ophelia up too, and he left the room, putting his pistol back in his pocket. Piper flung herself at him and clawed at his leg. “Coward!” She screamed, but the man took no notice. Ophelia and Charles left the house loudly. “Use your magic!” Piper was panicking, but Rhaine had stilled. “I cannot,” he said softly. “They took my satchel.” “Then let’s go and find it!” “No. She will be dead by the time we got back.” The boy leant down and kissed his mother on the cheek. Her eyes fluttered open, focusing on him one last time. It was all a blur. Rhaine could hear his heart in his ears, his blood in his mouth. Everything was in the wrong place. He held the dripping body in his arms, tears falling fast and splashing onto

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her soft skin. It is a dream. It must be a dream. He looked at his mother’s face. Each wrinkle, each delicate blonde eyelash, each detail of her iris. Her blue eyes were cloudy, their gaze glassy. “You have been so brave, my darling,” She wheezed, lifting her hand to chuck him under the chin. Rhaine took it in his, and etched the shape of his mother’s smile into his memory. "Please do not leave me now, Mother.” He sniffed, “You are my only friend.” “Do not be so sure,” The woman indicated to Piper, who was kneeling close-by, not wanting to interrupt. “I shall wait for you, Healer of Moon-tribe.” And then she was gone.

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32 The Crack-in-the-Land

The boy had always wondered what it would be like to see a dead body. He’d been to many funerals; he’d seen the wooden box be lowered into the ground countless times. He even visited his own father’s grave sometimes. He knew what death was, he’d just never known it to be so real, so instant, so utterly painful. Piper left the house without a word. She spotted Lora Bianca waiting with Bastian, and she called to her from across the basin. The woman somehow could sense something was wrong and hurried over to her. “What is it, Piper Morning?” She asked, voice taut with tension. “Esther - she-” Piper couldn’t bring herself to say the words. She broke down into tears, trying to talk but only gurgles came out. “Take me to her.” Lora Bianca gave Piper an arm to take, and the two went back inside the house. Rhaine and his mother’s corpse were where they had left them, but the boy’s tears had dried and now he sat in silence, staring at the wall. Moon-tribe’s teller fumbled over to Rhaine and grabbed his hand tightly. “Your mother was so proud of you, child. She loved you more than anyone: more than her sister, more than your father.” “Why does it matter?” he said, moving only his mouth. “Only a truly wicked soul could kill someone so pure and kind,” The old woman said, and finally Rhaine turned to look at her. “You must help us, or Esther will have died for nothing. Come, you may mourn later.” She helped Rhaine up and handed him to Piper. “I shall stay here and treat her body,” The girl helped her companion down the stairs and out the door. The wind had grown stronger and was now accompanied by deep black clouds that choked the sky and rain that pattered on the stone of the basin. Charles Hathoway and Ophelia Bertrand were dumb-struck, not expecting to see so many natives in one place. Bastian, Spider, Cora, Kirun and the Jaguahs formed a line, ready to fight to the death. Charles took his pistol from his pocket, cocked it, and aimed at Moon-tribe's chief. However, the weapon was knocked out of his hand by Rhaine from behind. Piper caught the gun in mid-air and the two ran back to the line of natives. “You do not frighten us!” Bastian shouted, working hard to be louder than the wind. “We will be oppressed no longer! We will either share, or you will die!” Ophelia tried to hide slightly behind the large frame of Dr Hathoway. “We don’t want

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to hurt you!” She called, pushing her glasses further up her face, brushing her fringe out of her eyes. “Cecil! I’m sorry, my dear, for being such a terrible mother.” “My name is not Cecil!” Rhaine shouted calmly. “I am Rhaine, Moon-tribe's healer.” All of a sudden, a cry was heard coming from Emmet’s house. The little boy opened the door and began waving from his porch. “Papa!” He screamed. “Something’s wrong with him!” Emmet was bowled over by a tall figure on all fours, foaming. It was a broad man with brown hair and a beard smudged with soot. His mouth hung open, showing a set of yellow teeth, and in his hand he held a chunk of crystal, that was either all the colours in the world – or none at all. The man blundered through the crowd of Jaguahs but slowed when he came to Xavier. The two sized each other up, and, deciding they were safe, began chasing the other around the crowd. Members of the expedition were appearing at doorsteps now, overcoming their fear of the natives, too curious not to listen in. Men leant on fences, craning their necks to see what the commotion was about. Piper spotted a few men laugh when they saw Emmet’s father looks so foolish – she didn’t blame them. They didn’t know what had really happened. “Thief!” Charles said, glaring at the chunk in the man’s hand. “That crystal was for qualified personnel only!” “Charles, he doesn’t look very well.” Ophelia stole a glance at Rhaine and Piper, remembering the warnings they’d given her. “I think the crystal is cursed.” she said shakily. “What?” The man snapped, “Why in the world do you think that?” “Just look at them!” Ophelia indicated towards the two men. “It must be. I’m just saying, I think we should be careful.” “Do you not care about your position, Dr Bertrand?” Charles looked unaffected by Ophelia’s words. “No, I’m -” “I could send you packing, if I wanted to. Do you even remember the reason why you are here?” “Yes, Charles.” “So you could adopt a savage. I took a huge risk, letting a woman join the expedition, so you had better not waste it.” “I know.” Ophelia’s face had gone the shade of an apple as she fidgeted with her cardigan buttons. “And not just that, but you will marry me as well.”

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Piper looked at Rhaine, whose face was blank. He obviously didn’t know what marriage was, and, looking around, it seemed as if none of the natives did, either. “Charles, I don’t want to talk about it here.” Ophelia was mortified. She let her eyes skit around the crowd, worried they might be judging her. She jumped as the man reached down and took hold of her small hands. She gasped, tried to pull away, but the man was stronger and came away with a black leather glove in his own hand. Ophelia tried to shield her bare fingers, but it was too late. Everyone saw. Her hands were covered with nasty red welts, replacing what should be soft skin. “This woman is a murderer!” Charles announced to the growing crowd, ignoring the pleas from the woman behind him. “These are the hands of a killer,” he yanked the other glove off, and Ophelia stuffed her hands in her pockets, desperately trying to hide the scars. “What are you doing, Charles?” The woman’s face had gone from red to parchment- white in only a matter of seconds. “I thought we – you said we were friends.” “Two years ago, distraught due to the loss of her son, Ophelia Bertrand set fire to her husband’s bed. As the fires raged, she tripped and fell into the flames, burning both her hands permanently. You ask yourself: how come a gentlewoman has no husband? I’ll tell you why: because she killed him.” “It’s not true! I tried to get him out, I put my hands in the fire to save him. I wasn’t thinking,” Dr Bertrand stared at her scars, disgusted. “Earnest was awful. It was an arranged marriage and I hated him. He’d leave me alone in the house for weeks, not letting me out in case another man tried to take advantage of me.” “But you admit you tried to kill him?” “Hypocrite!” Piper yelled, “You say it’s bad that she killed someone, then admit that you murdered my mother!” Charles mocked shock, “Oh, please, child, don’t be ridiculous.” Unexpectedly, Spider clacked his jaws and spoke in his rasping whisper. “You are a manipulator,” he said, voice riding on the wind. “You went inside her head and planted the seed. You turned her against her only love: a fellow mother – the mother of Piper Morning – until she had only you left. Now that her love is dead, you wish to take her and steal her riches.” Ophelia’s mouth fell open as she stared, horror-stricken, at the man she thought she’d known. “And it’s true that you killed Lillianna?” “No, as I said.” Charles replied smoothly. “She died at sea.” Dr Bertrand backed away from the man, as if touching him would infect her with an awful disease. She turned around to run inside her house just at the moment that Lora Binaca was hobbling out of it.

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“Who are you?” She asked, numb with shock. “People of Moon-tribe!” The teller cried, taking no notice of the swooning Ophelia. “I have received another vision. Get on the Jaguahs’ backs, quickly!” Immediately the natives became animated. One by one, they mounted the wildcats and took off, beasts spreading their wings wide. The largest Jaguah came to Piper and bowed deeply. “You may ride on me, lost children.” He purred, and Rhaine had to try extremely hard not to freeze again. However, before they had the chance to fly upwards, there was a great rumbling in the earth, and the children fell to their knees. They heard an ear-splitting crack coming from one of the mountains, and, as if in a nightmare, the peak split in half. Looking at the horizon, Rhaine gasped and pointed to something in the distance. “It’s the crack-in-the-land!” He shouted, and the two scrambled up to the Jaguah. But, to their dismay, found he had already alighted, and had joined his children among the clouds. Men were spotting the crack-in-the-land and were frantically running into their houses – as if they thought it would save them. Charles and Ophelia were also panicking. The only person who wasn’t moving was Emmet, who watched the huge crack come closer at an alarming rate. “Emmet!” Rhaine called, but the boy didn’t look like he could hear them. In a matter of seconds, the crack-in-the-land had entered the basin, breaking through everything in its midst, coming closer to the ring of houses with every passing moment. Rhaine and Piper sprinted over to the boy, and tried to get him to move, but he was so terrified that he couldn’t even blink. “I’m not scared,” He quivered, before the crack cut across the ring, clean as a knife. The force of the crack-in-the-land sent Piper, Rhaine and Emmet toppling. The boy was flung forward and lost his balance, tripping into the hole. “No!” Rhaine crawled, on his hands and knees, to the place where Emmet had disappeared. To his relief, he found the boy clinging on for his life. Trying not to look into the chasm below, Rhaine reached down his arms and grabbed hold of Emmet’s, and with Piper’s help the two of them brought the boy out, shaking from head to toe. He clung to Rhaine like a monkey, and the boy had to prise his fingers away one by one. The moment he was free, though, Emmet nodded to the native and then went to join everyone else in the safety of his home. The children were breathing heavily, but at least they knew everyone was safe. Piper grinned at the boy. “That was-” For a moment, the girl’s feet were placed firmly on the stone, and the next she was tumbling through the air with Rhaine. The children went head-first into the chasm, into the black, screaming. Piper reached out her hands to find something, anything to hold

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onto, and grabbed hold of a piece of rock jutting out of the side. She came to a halt, nails scraping against the rock, feet supporting her. If she let go now, she’d fall into the crack- in-the-land and never be seen again. Remembering her companion, Piper looked down and saw Rhaine dangling from a tiny piece of stone, hanging on with both hands. Looking up, Piper saw the great silhouette of Charles Hathoway, snarling down at them. “Clever women are a poison to our society, Piper Morning,” He sneered. “I did my duty and have removed this poison for good.” Piper reached up one arm, trying to claw at him, but he was too high up. The polish on his boots reflected a flash of lightning and made her squint. Charles looked down at his feet and picked something up. “Oh, look at this. I think you dropped something.” In his hand was Xavier’s pendant. “You say it’s cursed, hm? You think Xavier’s soul is inside?” Piper steadfastly remained silent, praying to science that she wouldn’t slip and fall. Furthermore, she just had to trust that Rhaine was still alive. “Well, I wonder what happens if I let go. Will it fall into the earth forever?” If the crystal is smashed, the soul is released, and they remain a husk forever. No purpose, just a shell – they might as well be dead. “That looked like it frightened you. Should I do it, Piper Morning?” He squatted on the edge of the chasm, and dangled the necklace in her face, mocking her. Piper didn’t break her gaze as it swung from side to side in front of her face. “You’ll have no-one left, after that. No-one left besides that disgusting savage.” The man cackled, leaning lower. Piper could feel his hot breath on her face. “You may be too big-headed to notice,” she hissed, “but it sounds like you’ve even fooled yourself. The Hartlanders are better than you’ll ever be, and just because they talk differently and believe in gods instead of science doesn’t mean you’re any better. That disgusting savage is even braver than me. His name’s Rhaine, and he’s my friend.” The girl shifted her weight onto one arm, reached up and yanked hard on the necklace. Charles’ face contorted aggressively, into a mixture of terror and bewilderment, and he teetered. Then, like a pebble falling from a wall, he reached out to grab at her, lost his balance and plummeted into the depths below.

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33 Queen Haylah

For a while, they could hear the rush of wind and the echoes of a cry, but then there was silence. The girl looked down at Rhaine, who beamed back at her. Her friend hooked his leg on another sharp rock and swung himself up, and together they helped each other out. Piper stayed clinging on to her father’s necklace, even when they lay panting under the soft pitter-patter of the rain, safe from falling to their deaths. Slowly, faces appeared at the windows again, and Moon-tribe descended from the clouds on the backs of the Jaguahs. From behind one of the houses came Spider, scuttling sheepishly on his eight legs. “I am a coward, girl...” he said, but Piper laughed. “No, you’re not. Thank you for confronting Charles earlier.” She could hear the Jaguah being scolded by Lora Bianca, and he reluctantly padded up to them. “My sincerest apologies for abandoning you, lost children,” He growled, baring his teeth in what could have been a smile. “You do not need to apologise,” Rhaine said, amused. “You are too kind, Healer,” The wildcat bowed again, and prowled away to join its babies. Amidst the crowd, Bastian caught Piper’s eye and nodded at her, keeping his solemn expression. The girl returned his modest praise and nodded back. “I said you would do well, Piper Morning.” Came the voice of Lora Bianca. She had removed her blindfold to prevent the material from being wettened by her tears. “And you, Rhaine,” She addressed the boy, who went pink. “Your mother asked me that, if anything were to happen to her, I would become your guardian. Until you are twenty four-seasons old, you shall live in my tent and train with me.” Piper left Rhaine with the teller and went off to find her Bonemother. Ophelia was sat huddled on the bottom stair, gloves clasped firmly in her hands, hair falling over her face. She wiped her eyes with her cardigan sleeve when she saw Piper in the doorway. “I was meant to protect you,” The woman said huskily, not making eye contact with the girl. “I should have made Lillianna proud, not betrayed her like this.” Piper, pushing her resentment deep down inside herself, went and sat next to the doctor and gave her a hug. She was enveloped in the warm smell of flower petals as the woman finally relaxed, “I suppose it doesn’t matter: you’ve turned out just fine.” Ophelia said quietly.

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“Charles Hathoway manipulated you, Ophelia. Just like he manipulated Papa, and the newspapers, and Mr Roberts.” “He’s alive?” Piper chuckled, “He should have left on a ship a few days ago. He wants to see his wife again.” “If only I could say the same for Earnest.” Ophelia sniffed, letting a few more tears escape. Piper touched the woman’s hands lightly but pulled away when she flinched at the pain. “I think you’re quite brave,” The girl said. “You took matters into your own hands, and now look at you. You’re a doctor – better yet, the first woman from Britton to travel to The Hartlands.” “I think you’ve already claimed that title, girl.” Ophelia said cheerfully, “But I’m glad you think that, even so. Just don’t follow my example! Murder is definitely not the way to deal with your problems.” The crowd outside all gasped collectively, and Piper and her Bonemother hurried to the window to see what was happening. A great hole was opening in the mountain, and from it came hundreds of huge... spiders! Each one was the same size as a man. Ophelia spotted these beasts and fainted. Leaving her Bonemother be, Piper ran outside and went to join Rhaine, who was watching the beasts in amazement. The girl wondered where Spider was and saw him lurking in the shadows of one of the houses. He obviously didn’t want the beasts to see him. Leading the procession of spiders was a very beautiful woman, whom, at first glance, looked entirely normal. But as she got closer, Piper could see four, hairy, spider’s legs protruding from her back. She wore a dress made of animal skin, and her hair fell thick and black in a plait down her shoulder. On her head she wore a crown of ivy, willow and dead bugs. “People of the Boat-folk!” She announced, speaking perfect English. “I am Haylah, Lah of Arachnids! All bow.” The natives, star-struck, bent expertly, including Rhaine. The Brittish, however, didn’t know what to do and so awkwardly copied the Hartlanders. “The Island Spirit has been stilled at last. Which one of you has calmed her?” Lora Bianca surged to the front of the crowd and held up Piper’s hand. “She is our hero, Haylah. Piper Morning has saved us.” Rhine lent over to whisper into Piper’s ear, “The leader of the Arachnids always looks human, in order for us to connect better with them.” Haylah looked indifferently at the girl, with her scruffy hair and filthy face. “We are forever in your debt,” The spider sounded completely unsympathetic, but her words were kindly meant, and Piper nodded in thanks. “It wasn’t just me, though.” The girl indicated to Rhaine. “It’s both of us who deserve

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thanks.” Haylah’s eyes glided over to the boy wearing the shirt and corduroys. “In that case, we are indebted to you also, child. As a reward for your acts, each of you may receive one wish. Name it, and, within reason, we shall give it to you.” The children looked at each other, sparks of excitement kindling on their tongues. Rhaine spoke first. He stepped forward and bowed, a hint of a grin on his lips. “Great Lah,” He began, “my wish is big, but absolutely necessary. I want you to undo Ho-arlah's spells. Sapu’s tribe merged with ours centuries ago, and there is no longer a threat to our forest.” On his words, a ripple of offense spread through the crowd of spiders, all looking up at their leader as if worried she might explode. The Lah pondered for a few moments, and then returned her soft gaze. “Very well,” she said, “I shall grant it. My ancestor, Ho-arlah, was doing what he thought best for your people. Now, one thousand and seventy-seven four-seasons later, I shall do the same.” She shut her eyes, lifted her hands, and within seconds the air had a different taste to it. The storm cleared, letting sunshine through the clouds, and Rhaine’s heart quickened. “Light has been returned to the Forest of Endless Night. The protective spell has been lifted. Furthermore, Tessa’s crystal is no longer cursed. That does not mean The Island Spirit allows it to be mined, however.” There was silence, and then a cheer erupted in the crowd of natives. Rhaine punched the air and hugged Piper tightly. “Your turn!” He whispered, and the girl copied her friend. “Great Lah,” she said. “my wish isn’t big. In fact, it’s really small. I want you to give Spider his name back.” The girl turned and beckoned Spider over, who scuttled along on shaking legs. “You,” Haylah said darkly, but Piper shook her head. “He was unfairly trialled. Spider meant no harm, and I think the years alone in the forest has taught him to control his ability.” “It has.” Spider murmured, and, rolling her eyes, Haylah put her hand to her heart. “If that is what you wish, Piper Morning, then I shall grant it. I hereby remove the banishment of this member of my court and wish him a prosperous soul in my kingdom under the name Halaja.” Spider clacked his jaws again, blinked each eye individually, and sunk into his legs. “Thank you, my queen.” He stammered, unable to hold his happiness. “You are remarkable, girl... thank you.” The beast readied himself and went to join the other spiders, merging with the crowd. The hubbub of arachnids turned and retreated back into the mountain, and as the entry

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to their cave faded away, Piper and Rhaine hugged again. “You’re magic,” the girl declared, and Rhaine laughed. “Thank you for helping me,” he said, but Piper shook her head. “No, thank you for helping me.” She looked over her shoulder and was thrilled to see – a slightly confused – Xavier Morning get up from the floor and brush himself down. He quickly buttoned his shirt, absolutely mortified at his immodesty. She detached herself from Rhaine and surprised him from behind by giving him another tight hug. “Oh, hello, Piper.” The man said distantly, looking around him. “Where are we? I’m sure I’m meant to be at Mr Robert’s house.” Emmet’s father dropped the piece of crystal he was holding and looked similarly bewildered. “Papa!” Emmet called and shook his hand vigorously. “Ophelia?” Xavier spotted the small woman watching them from the porch. “What are you doing here?” “It’s hard to explain, Xavier. Maybe another time.” “I suppose we’re leaving, then.” Piper said, feeling both sad and happy at the same time. Dr Bertrand shrugged. “I don’t know, actually. I hope so.” “What are you talking about?” The girl said, “Now that Charles is dead, you’re the manager of the expedition.” Ophelia gasped, “My goodness, I hadn’t thought of that.” “Charles is... what?” Xavier frowned as Piper took his hand and introduced him to the natives. She had to help him stand, as he was so scared that they might eat him but found good company in Bastian. The two started up a conversation on the weather, both ecstatic to have found someone just as earnest. “We should go home,” Lora Bianca suggested gently, and Rhaine nodded. “Your mother’s body is ready. We can have a funeral as soon as we get back.” The boy wiped his wet eyes and smiled as best he could. “Piper,” He began, “Have you ever ridden on a Jaguah?”

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Epilogue

Light poked through the canopy of leaves, a perfect mirage of glassy colours. It lit up the drab trees and woke the slumbering animals that had lost hope in light every returning. The forest looks brand new, Piper thought to herself as she stood in the circle surrounding Esther’s coffin. A deep hole had been dug just outside of the camp, in an empty patch of ground that saw the sun every day. Rhaine and Bastian together helped lift the wooden box into the hole, and then stood back as the boy threw in various things to remember. “I give you my satchel, Mother,” he said as he threw in his sturdy bag. “you made it for me on my eleventh four-season, and I have used it every day.” From his hand he then scattered some flower petals and herbs. “I give you ingredients, Mother, so that you can make medicine even in Eden.” Lastly, he reached up his hand and pulled a few hairs from his newly shaved head, and dropped them in, too. “I give you a part of me, Mother, so we may be together until I join you.” Bastian put his hand on Rhaine’s shoulder. “Moon-tribe, please add whatever you want to Esther’s grave. We will fill it in soon.” Piper stepped forward, along with a few other natives, and brought out a pen. This was the pen she had used to write in her journal every day since she’d arrived. “Thank you, Esther.” The girl whispered. “Please have my pen: it’s my most precious possession, after my notebook. I wish I could give that to you, but Charles hid it somewhere. I probably won’t ever get it back.” She dropped the antique nib into the grave along with other keepsakes that people had decided to put in. “I hope you meet Mama again, Esther. If you do, please tell her about me. Tell her I haven’t forgotten her.” The strongest members of Moon-tribe then set to work throwing the earth back in, and one by one the natives drifted away. Rhaine, however, stayed adamantly by the grave, waiting until it was completely filled. Piper wandered over and stood next to him. “So, what happens now?” The girl asked. “We carry on. The island is healing itself slowly, and eventually it will be impossible to tell that anything happened.” “But you won’t forget us?” Rhaine chuckled, “How could I forget you, Piper Morning? Because of you, I almost died – multiple times!” “I always saved you though.”

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“Don’t take all the credit. I saved you more.” “What about when you nearly drowned? You’d be a goner without me.” “You are forgetting the first earthquake.” “Shut up.” Piper’s eyes glinted as she smiled at the boy. “You looked so funny, huddled under that old coat. You looked like a snail.” “I hate you!” She pushed him, and the two children were soon in a heated battle of play-fight, though they were shushed by Bastian who told them that they should be more respectful at Rhaine’s own mother’s funeral. “She would not have wanted everyone to be sad,” The boy thought out loud. “She told me that, when she died, she wanted us all to have a party to remember her.” “You’ll have to have that party without us, then,” Piper could hear the faint tinkle of a bell coming from the beach outside the forest. She and Rhaine raced each other through the trees, slowing only when they had entered the prairie once again. Rhaine whooped freely without any fear of being hunted down or spotted. The two children turned to each other and hugged one last time. “You’re my first friend, Rhaine,” Piper whispered, voice catching in her throat, trying to stop the tears that had found their way into her eyes. “And you are mine.” The boy plucked a white feather from his skirt and pressed it into his friend’s palm. “Until we meet again, Piper Morning.” Reluctantly, Piper trudged down the hill and found Ophelia, Xavier and all the members of the expedition readying themselves for departure. The ship that had brought all the men from Psalterium hadn’t yet left, and they were using that to get home. Xavier was having a conversation with Peter Hanford, who had been found wandering the hills the night that the crystal had been uncursed. He had no recollection of where he had been, but everyone agreed that he was lucky to be alive. “Are you ready to go, Piper?” Her father asked her as they walked up the gangplank and entered the ship. “Of course not,” She replied, looking back at the endless fields, the fresh air, the thick forests. The mountains were blue in the distance, the sky almost swallowing them up, but she could still see the pinprick that once was Emmet’s house. With a jolt, the ship was off, coughing up black smoke, slicing through the calm waves. Piper looked down, leaning over the side of the boat to see Rhaine in the distance, an ant among the tall grass. He was waving to her, calling something out, though the girl couldn’t hear what. “Goodbye, Rhaine! I’ll miss you!” Piper yelled at the top of her lungs.

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