The Stolen Child (13 page)

She saw the pleading look in his eyes, but she felt
only disgust
.  
She
turned and ran, dropping down from the rooftop into the alleyway below.  
Just once she glanced across her shoulder to see him watching from above, but he did not follow.  Down in the street she found the plastic bottle, lying in a puddle.  The cap had shattered.  The last few tablets were dissolving in the rainwater.
 

Rachael
walked with her
head held low
,
as
the lights from the cars
wash
ed
over her in the darkness.  Far below her feet the trains thundered on, a low rumble reverberating upwards through her
body
.  Empty cans and crisp packets crunched beneath her heels, and she heard
shouted laughter
in the distance.

London never slept.  She had spent countless nights walking the city streets alone
like this
, and always there was the light, the movement and the
thunderous
sound.  The heat of bodies pressed together, the sudden turn of laughter to violence, the smell of vomit,
urine
and beer.  
At night the pulse of the city seemed louder, more palpable.
 
I
t was an animal thing
that grunted and howled
in the dark
.

Her feet ached.  
It had been two days since the rooftop.  Two days since she'd left Justin.  She'd been wandering aimlessly, not really caring where she went, or where she ended up.  Just the shape of the pavement beneath her heels and the sounds of the city enclosing her from every side.  Even as night fell she kept moving, trying to outpace her thoughts as the sky blackened with heavy clouds
.
 

When the park gates loomed out of the darkness, she was barely surprised at where her wandering feet had
taken
her.  Thoug
h
the streets and
apartments
of her old neighbourhood
looked altogether the same, the park seemed worse for wear.  Perhaps she simply imagined that it had not been so thoroughly strewn with glass and
dog-leavings when she had been here last.  Perhaps it was only her memory of the place that seemed brighter and cleaner than where she now stood.  
How much could it have changed, in
a little more
than a year?
 

She wandered across to the swings and sat down, hearing the familiar creak of the rubber, the groan of the metal frame as it shifted under her weight.  She tilted her head back and looked up into a starless sky.  

No, not starless.  Not entirely.  A single point of light hung suspended above her.  For a moment it seemed as if her vision was swimming, until she realised that it was drifting from side to side, coming closer, growing brighter.  She leaned forward as it fell, like a dandelion puff, but glowing like a firefly.  It was a tiny thing with no discernible form.  Just a ball of light.  
I
t came to rest in her cupped palms.  She felt only a very slight warmth.  It seemed to hover just over the skin.  
She looked up, and saw more lights begin to appear.  Hundreds, thousands, all drifting down across the sky.
 

The memory came to her so suddenly that she
felt
an overwhelming sense of vertigo.  Maybe five or six years old, she had come out into the very same park at night, only to see a thousand of the tiny drifting lights, like the one she held in her hands.  When she'd caught one to bring home, her mother had told her how nice it was.  
It was only later that she'd really heard
the way her m
um
had said the words; an adult playing along with a child
's game
.  She had never seen the little light.

That had been a long time ago.  Before the drugs and the
doctors.  Before the nights spent curled inside a blanket, screaming into the darkness.
 

She stared at the little glowing light, feeling wave after wave of memory wash over her.  It was like a river, deep and dark, and beneath that surface she knew there was something else lurking.  Something she didn't want to contemplate.

“It's a ghostlight.  They slip through, sometimes.  From the other side.”

Startled, she pulled her hands away, letting the tiny light fall.  
She looked up, and saw him standing by the gate to the park.  The hem of his coat brushed the grass.  Her
shoulders tensed.
 

"
I'm sorry.  I know you told me to stay away.  It's just... That's not a choice I get to make," Justin said.
 

"
The hell do you mean?" she said, her voice coming out as little more than a hiss.
 

"
Just what I said.  Whether you want me here or not, this is where I have to be.  I'm sorry."
 

"
You think... What... That if you just keep following me, I'll give up and pretend nothing happened?  You think you're going to show me how much you care, just by not listening when I tell you to get lost?"
 

He shook his head.

“
No.  That's not it at all.  If you don't want me around, I'll respect that.  If you tell me, right now, that you never want to see me again...
You won't.  Not ever.  But I'll be watching.  I'll be there to keep you safe.  Always.”

“
Are you sick in the head
?  Why would anyone do that?  What do you think you're
gonna prove
?”

He shrugged, helplessly.

“I made a promise.  To keep you safe, no matter what.  Even if you hate me, even if you don't want me.”

“Well, take your promise and stuff it.  You don't owe me nothing.”

He shook his head.

“It wasn't a promise I made to you.”

Curious, she studied his eyes, trying to see some sign that he was leading her on.  He seemed, as always, completely and entirely sincere.

“This is crazy,”
s
he said, shaking her head.  
Then s
he looked up at the soft little lights, drifting down
all around them.  
“I'm crazy.”

She heard his footsteps on the grass as he walked towards her, slowly, giving her time.  Time to run.  He held out a hand
to catch
one of the
tiny
lights, letting it rest in his palm.  A ghostlight, he'd called it.  When he was standing a few paces from
the swings
, he held out the ghostlight towards her.

“Rachael... I know what you're dealing with.  Believe me, I do.  Because I took the pills, and I went to the sessions, and I learned how to pretend I was normal.  Just like you
did
.  Because for years I let them tell me that the world is dull, ugly and grey.  That everything mad and impossible and beautiful could only be something I'd imagined.  That I could only be crazy, to see a world that was more than just...
Ordinary
.  It's a lie, Rachael.  It's all a lie.  There
truly
is magic in this world.”

He stepped closer and reached out to take her hand.  
Gently, he pressed the ghostlight into her open palm
.

“I came here to take you away from this.  To show you
where ghostlights grow.”

She lowered her eyes, looking into the soft little light in her palm.  
Then
she raised her hand, pressed her lips together and blew out a sharp puff of air.  The tiny ball of light shot out of her hands, dancing off into the sky
like a dandelion seed
.  Watching it go, she couldn't help but smile, if only for a moment.

She turned away, unable to meet his eyes.  The rusted metal frame of the swing
groaned in protest
as she sat down again.  
A moment later, h
e took a seat beside her.  
Together they listened
to the sounds of the city, and the jumbled melody of chains and springs moving gently in the wind.
 

“I used to pretend I was flying,”
s
he said, speaking to the open air.  "There's that moment, when you get to the top of the swing, just before you come down, when it feels like it.  Like you're flying.”

She looked over at Justin.

“But I suppose you don't have to pretend.”  

She swallowed.  

“Why didn't you... You know... Show me that, before?”

“Because I was afraid you'd react...”

“Like I did?”

“Yeah.”

“So, what, you were waiting for me to be ready?  I mean, as if I'd ever be ready for that.”

“It's more than that.  The things I can do... They can be followed, by people who know how.  Like the men who are after you.”

“
Who were those guys anyhow?  And what do they want with me?”
 

“
There's a power in you, Rachael.  In your mother's blood
.  Th
ose men
want to control that power.  Make you a prisoner.  
They've come from another world, from beyond the Veil, just to find you.”
 

“
Beyond the veil?  What's that supposed to mean then?”
 

“
It means... It means other worlds.  Endless, impossible worlds that you couldn't even imagine.”
 

“
So these guys are, like, aliens or something?
”

“No,
they're
human, just like us.  
They're people who left this world a very long time ago.
”

“
How's that even possible?  I mean, we've barely got, like, rocket ships and stuff now.”
 

“
It's not like that.  I'm not talking about, y'know, other planets and stuff.  I mean worlds, like... Worlds.  Everything.  Whole universes.  Like, have you ever had a dream where you were someplace else, and everything was different?  Even simple things like gravity?”
 

“
I guess.”
 

“
Well, what if that was a real place?  What if you could go there, just by stepping through a door?  That's the kind of place they come from.”
 

“
Just by stepping through a door?”
 

“
Sort of.  It's a bit more complicated than that.”
 

“Are they the only ones?  
These guys that are following us?
”

“Maybe?”  
He shrugged.
  “I don't know.  There could be more.”

“So
with the changing,
you didn't want to be too... Loud.  I guess?”

“Right.  And it's difficult.  Beyond the
V
eil, changing is eas
ier
.  But here, in this world...  It takes so much strength to reshape yourself like that, and all of that strength has to come from somewhere.  This world is so dead to magic.  It takes everything just to turn into a tiny little bird.”

“You can turn into other things?  Bigger things?”

He nodded.

“
If there's power to draw on...
”  He turned his eyes upwards.  “Much bigger.”

“Oh.”

She looked out over the park, feeling the surreal emptiness of the place.  Her eyes settled on an old merry-go-round, the paint peeling from the rusted metal.

“Come on,”
s
he said,
as she
dropp
ed
down from the swing.
 

She grabbed the handle and began to push.  For a moment he just stared at her with a vague look of bewilderment.  Then, with a half-hearted shrug, he grabbed the other handle and t
hey pushed together
.  The dry axle resisted at first, but soon they were moving, chasing each other around the circle as the merry-go-round emitted a metallic squeal.  They
went
faster and faster, until the mo
vement
of the wheel was pulling her along.  Barely able to keep up, she ran a few more steps and then
pulled
herself
aboard
.  Justin ran with it for a little longer before jumping aboard.  Huddled in the centre, they both held tight to the bars as the world sp
u
n around them.  
S
he leaned her head back and grinned at him.  He
smiled
back, something utterly joyful bursting through from inside.  
For a moment it seemed
as if the whole world just fell away and there was only that smile.  Just for her.

The merry-go-round began to slow, and she loosened her grip.  They sat back to back, resting their heads against the post at the centre of the wheel, feet spread out in front of them.  The
wind was picking up, rattling the chains on the swings and climbing frames as dead leaves skated across the grass, making little pirouettes as they danced in spirals
.  
Every now and then the merry-go-round creaked beneath them.
 

“
Did you really come to protect me?”
 

“
To protect you
.  To bring you home.”

“And if I don't want to go to wherever this home is?”

“Then I'll be by your side, wherever you
do
want to go.”

T
hrough the bars, her hand found his.  His grip was firm and sure.

“Justin... Who are you, really?”
s
he whispered.

"I told you who I am," he said.

"
My knight in shining armour.  Right.  Except you forgot your horse and all.
"

For a while, he didn't say a word.  
She could hear the sound of his breathing, feel the slight movement of his shoulder against hers.
 

She turned away, and pulled her hand back from his.
 

“
Justin, I can't do it.  I can't believe in all this like you want me to.  This is crazy, and it don't matter how much I try to tell myself it isn't, because I know, I just know...”