The Fathomless Fire (2 page)

“What are you talking about?” Will said. “I don’t understand. Who sent this message?”

“No one sent it. But here it is. A stone will speak, the sky will come to earth, and a friend will fall.”

Will couldn’t make sense of the first two things the shadow had said, but the third was disturbing. A friend will fall. He thought of Rowen, her grandfather the loremaster, and Shade, the wolf, and fear shot through him like an electric shock.

“What do you mean, a friend will fall. Is someone going to die?”

The shadow sat back again in its shadow-chair.

“I know only what I’ve told you.”

“My friends were fine when I left,” Will said. “Do you know what’s happening to them?”

“I’ve told you all I can tell you. Now I’m just going to catch my breath, if you don’t mind, then I’ll be on my way.”

Will’s mouth went dry. He stared at the shadow, frustrated by the fact that it had no face. There was no
body
to look at. Which made everything it said doubtful. This could be the shadow of anyone.

“Who sent you?” Will demanded. “
Tell me
.”

“I’ve already told you, no one sent me. I’m here because it’s what must be.”

“Well, who told you a friend is going to fall?”

The shadow had no eyes, but Will had the odd feeling that if it had, it would have been rolling them in annoyance.

“
No one
told me. I serve nobody. I’m just here, simple as that, with a message for you about what will be. I’ll repeat it again if you like: a stone will speak, the sky—”

“Is that all you can say?” Will broke in, his alarm turning to anger.

“That’s all I can say.”

“Meaning you don’t know anything more, or you won’t tell me?”

The shadow sat for a moment in silence, then hoisted itself out of the shadow-armchair with a grunt of effort.

“That’s a comfortable chair. Now if you’ll excuse me—”

“No, wait. If you know more, you
have to
tell me. Are these things happening now, or are they going to happen soon…?”

“As I said, I’ve done what I came to do. I am not able to give out any further information. The laws forbid it.”

The shadow seemed to dim slightly, and Will was suddenly afraid it would disappear.

“What laws?” he asked quickly. “Please, I’m not from your world. I don’t understand.”

“The laws of Story, if you must know. I exist because of those laws. Or I suppose you could say I am one of the laws.”

“But there’s more you could tell me, isn’t there? It sounds like you know more than you’re saying.”

The shadow sighed.

“I am a shadow of things to come. Things that haven’t happened yet. My task is to bring people warnings or hints about what’s on the way. Hints that many choose to ignore, unfortunately, but that’s their problem, not mine. All I’m meant to do is to cast a shadow back from the
will be
to the
now
, and what I do is what I am. And that is all.”

“But you could say more if you wanted to, couldn’t you?”

“A shadow has no wants,” it said mechanically, as if reciting something it had repeated many times. “A shadow does not give directions, explanations or advice. A shadow is its task and nothing more.”

“But you’ve already broken the law,” Will said eagerly, the idea forming even as he spoke. “You told me what you are and what you do. So you have given me an explanation.”

The shadow went still, as if it was startled by what Will had said. Then it scratched its head slowly.

“I’ve bent the rules, haven’t I?” the shadow said in a dazed murmer. “I never did that before. It must be because I’m so far from home. I’ve never had to travel out
here
to deliver a message. This is all highly irregular and…”

“Well, you might as well go ahead and tell me more,” Will said with a shrug. “Now that you’ve already started. What difference will it make?”

The shadow didn’t answer straight away. It wavered and bobbed, as if it was being cast now by a flickering candle flame.

“I must not,” the shadow said with what sounded to Will like a note of fear in its voice. “I’m … I’m a shadow of things to come. That’s all I am. And my time is almost up. I have to…”

“Wait, please. I need to know what friend you’re talking about. Maybe there’s some way I can warn them, before it’s too late.”

The shadow grew even more dim and wavery.

“I can’t tell you what my message means or who it refers to,” the shadow said, its voice already sounding far away, “because I really do not know.” The shadow had almost faded away to nothing. “All I know is that somehow you left the story, you vanished into this … wherever this is, which has never happened before to my knowledge. And now you’re needed back in the story.”

“You mean … maybe I can change what’s going to happen?”

“I didn’t say that. But I do know that I’m here only because the story wants you back.”

“But how do I get back?”

“The same way you left,” the shadow’s voice said, but from where, Will couldn’t tell, because it had already vanished.

In a daze Will looked around his room, as if he might find the shadow still lurking somewhere. He saw the fallen lamp, picked it up and set it back on the table. Then his eyes fell on the box of old books. He remembered that just before the shadow appeared he’d been thinking about what his mother always told him when he asked for one more story at bedtime.

Don’t worry
, she would say.
The story will wait for us.

He wondered now about the story the shadow had spoken of, the one he had been a part of and wanted more than anything to return to. Would it wait for him?

I
N THE KITCHEN
things were close to a state of chaos. Dad had pots overflowing on the stove, lasagna bubbling away in the oven, and the various ingredients of a salad scattered widely over the counter.

“Well, howdy, stranger,” Dad drawled at Will over his shoulder as he chopped celery. Since they’d moved out west, Dad had been pretending he was a cowboy. The joke was already stale. “I asked you to set the table half an hour ago.”

“I was busy,” Will said, hearing the annoyance in his own voice. The shadow’s warnings and Jess’s odd behaviour were still troubling him, and he was letting it show. If Jess suspected something and told Dad, things would get a lot more difficult.

Dad stopped chopping, and stared at Will.

“What’s up with you?”

“Sorry.”

“You can set out the mashed potatoes, too. Use one of Mum’s nice bowls.”

“Have they been unpacked yet?”

“Right, never mind the nice bowls.”

As Will was just finishing setting out the plates and cutlery, the front doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it!” came a shout from upstairs, and a moment later Jess bounded down the stairs. Will met her at the door just as she was flinging it open.

Aunt Carrie stood on the step, smiling and holding a flat white box.

“Auntie Carrie!” Jess shouted.

“Hi, sweetie,” she said, holding the box aloft with one hand and hugging Jess tightly with her other arm. “Mmm, smells like dinner’s cooking.”

“Dad’s making lasagna and mashed potatoes,” Jess said.

“Is he?” Aunt Carrie said. “Interesting combination. Come here, Will.” She gave him a hug, too, and handed him the box. “Apple pie for dessert. In case dinner doesn’t turn out quite as planned.”

“I heard that,” Dad shouted from the kitchen. They all laughed, even Will, despite his thoughts being elsewhere. He had always liked his Dad’s lively younger sister. The fact that she lived in this town was one of the reasons Dad had decided they should move here, and Will had to admit it had been good for all of them to have her nearby. She’d made the move to a strange town a little easier, and she had the knack of bringing out the seldom-seen fun side in Will’s father. Jess loved her, too. Over the past few weeks his little sister, who had been so quiet and withdrawn since their mother died, had begun to talk more and even laughed a little again, and Will knew it was mostly thanks to Aunt Carrie. All of which made him feel somewhat less guilty about what he had to do.

“We’re going to have a great weekend, pumpkin,” Aunt Carrie said to Jess, giving her another squeeze. “You’re more than welcome to join us, Will.” Aunt Carrie was taking Jess to stay with her for a couple of days while Dad went out of town on a construction job. Dad had wanted Will to go with them, but after much discussion, and a lot of chores done without too much complaint, Will had managed to convince the adults that he would be fine on his own at home.

“Thanks,” Will said to Aunt Carrie. “I’ve got things to do here.”

He couldn’t help glancing at Jess. She was giving him that odd look again. He turned away quickly.

“Your schedule’s full, is it?” Aunt Carrie said with a wink.

“Chow’s ready, cowpokes,” Dad announced, striding to the table with the lasagna pan held on high. “Prepare to feast.”

“This looks wonderful,” Aunt Carrie said, gazing over the spread laid out on the tablecloth. “But looks can be deceiving.”

“Gee thanks, sis.”

They sat down and tucked in eagerly. As the dishes were passed around so were the funny family stories. Most of them were told by Aunt Carrie about their dad when he was a boy, and there were a few surprises.

“Did you know that your dad used to do nothing but read?”

Will and Jess shook their heads in disbelief. Dad’s bedside shelf held maybe half a dozen books, if that.

“He was such a bookworm, he rarely saw the light of day. If we did something bad our parents punished us by sending me to my room, and your dad
outside.
”

“All that changed when I got my first motorbike,” Dad said, grinning.

“No kidding,” said Aunt Carrie, rolling her eyes. “After that we hardly ever saw you.”

Will listened to the stories eagerly, and told some of his own, but he couldn’t keep from glancing at the clock on the wall, secretly willing the hands to move faster. With all the stories and the laughter, no one else paid attention to the time. Finally, Will had to speak up.

“Don’t you have to leave soon?” he asked Dad, nodding his head towards the clock.

“Oops, you’re right!” Dad shouted, jumping up from the table. “We didn’t even get to the pie.”

“We’ll bake a new one for your return,” Aunt Carrie said. “You’d better get going.”

Dad hurried to his room and came back lugging his beaten-up duffelbag. He threw on his old leather jacket, then kissed Jess and put his arm around Will.

“Be good, you two,” he said, then turned to Will. “Be safe.”

As before he gave Will an uneasy glance, as if he wanted to say something more. But instead he hurried out and a moment later they heard his truck roar away.

They had a slice of apple pie, then Will and Jess cleared the table. Aunt Carrie wanted to help, but they told her Dad had insisted they do the work themselves. Grudgingly she gave in and had a cup of coffee while Will and Jess washed up. They didn’t talk as they worked, and Will was acutely aware of the tense silence. As they were putting away the last of the dishes, Jess turned to him. In a barely audible voice she said, “Are you going tonight?”

Will shut the cutlery drawer with great care.

“I already told you,” he said, trying to keep his voice casual, “I might go for a hike tomorrow.”

Her unwavering look cut right through his lie.

“I mean, are you going
back
,” she said. “You know, back
there.
”

Will stared at her.

“How do you…?” he began in a strained whisper.

Aunt Carrie came into the kitchen with her coffee cup.

“Time to make tracks, pumpkin,” she said to Jess.

Will waited impatiently while Aunt Carrie helped Jess get her things ready. He hoped his eagerness for them to leave wasn’t too obvious, and more than that he was worried Jess would say something to Aunt Carrie. But when Jess came to the front door with her suitcase, the look she gave Will told him that she would keep his secret.

“You sure about this, Will?” Aunt Carrie asked him as he saw them off at the front door. “I don’t know if I’d want to spend the night by myself in this creaky old place.”

“I’ll be fine,” Will said, with a twinge of guilt. He wasn’t happy about lying, especially not to Aunt Carrie. If only he could tell her, it would take a lot of the weight off. He had the feeling she would actually listen. Maybe she would even be on his side about leaving. But it was too late for that now.

A few moments later Aunt Carrie’s car drove off down the street. Will let out a long breath and shut the front door. He was on his own at last.

He hurried up the stairs to his room and checked the contents of his pack one more time. He was bringing enough food and water, he thought, for at least a day or maybe two. He hoped it wouldn’t take him anywhere near that long to find the place he meant to go.