by S J Howland
‘How was the museum?’
Mrs King’s voice rang out of the quiet and Xander felt a smile tug at his lips as he walked into the sitting room, to find her curled up on the sofa surrounded by papers. Her hair was piled into a lop-sided bun on top of her head, precariously secured with a couple of pencils, and with wild tendrils escaping everywhere. She had a long streak of blue on her nose where she had been pushing up her glasses with an ink-stained finger, odd socks on her feet, and a warm smile on her face, just for him. She stood up, scattering papers onto the floor and enveloped him in an unexpected hug.
‘It’s funny,’ she said lightly. ‘I feel like I’ve hardly seen you lately, I’ve been working so hard. I missed you, Xand.’
Xander swallowed and hugged her back.
‘I’ve missed you too, Mum,’ he said.
Mrs King squeezed him and then pulled back with a cheerful smile.
‘I’ve got lunch cooking,’ she announced.
Xander eyed her warily.
‘Really?’ he asked, trying not to sound too sceptical.
‘I’ll just clear this up a bit – I don’t know how they all get scattered about like this,’ she said, beginning to scoop up her papers. ‘Lunch should be ready soon.’
Xander gave her what he hoped looked like an enthusiastic smile, before heading up to his bedroom. There didn’t appear to be any smoke coming from the kitchen but it still seemed wise to put off the moment of truth about whatever his mother had decided to incinerate today. He took the stairs two at a time, noticing that the lamps were back on their side tables, and then hesitated for a moment outside his bedroom door. Now that he was back, the memory of the night when shades had manifested all over his house was still very vivid and he shivered before pushing the door open.
The room was tidy, his bed neatly made, and sunshine was pouring in through the window. His school bag sat next to his desk, as if he had just dropped it there, and his blazer hung over the back of his desk chair. Everything looked utterly ordinary. Xander sat on the end of his bed and looked down at his open palm, where the pale mark from his shade-strike glistened. He shook his head.
‘Back to normal,’ he said quietly, with a wry smile.
A small head popped up from behind the bed.
‘All clear, Xander,’ it said brightly.
Xander fell sideways off the bed, landing on the floor on his hands and knees, with his mouth open in shock. The face peered cautiously around the side of bed, eyes staring curiously at him. It was Brolly.
‘You!’ Xander spluttered. ‘How are you here?’
Brolly beamed at him.
‘Tan wanted to make sure all was now well in your home, and all secure,’ he explained helpfully.
‘But how can you even cross the border?’ asked Xander, completely thrown by the sight of a brownie standing in the middle of his bedroom. ‘I didn’t think you could use the Stones.’
‘Brownies don’t need Stones, silly Xander,’ said Brolly serenely. ‘Only checking all is clear.’
Xander just stared at him. There was a small shuffling noise from the cupboard and his eyes immediately shot over that way, body tensing.
‘What was that?’
Brolly looked evasive.
‘Nothing,’ he said, but it wasn’t convincing.
Xander rolled to his feet, marched over to the cupboard and threw both doors open. On the floor, a tatty shoe in each hand, sat Spike with a guilty expression on his face; he sent a wavering smile up at Xander.
Brolly hurried forward.
‘Can explain,’ he said quickly. ‘Tan said to check and return, but we checked cupboard and found all this.’ He gestured to Xander’s untidy shoe and clothes pile as if it were a treasure trove, then clasped his hands and gazed beseechingly up at Xander. ‘Will be very quiet,’ he begged.
Spike clutched a scuffed school shoe to his chest, with wide, pleading eyes.
‘Oh, fine,’ Xander surrendered, with a roll of his eyes. ‘Just don’t let anyone hear you.’
Both brownies dived forward to hug him around the knees and then settled down in his cupboard to root through their tool bags with beatific expressions on their faces. With a wry smile, Xander swung the cupboard doors partially closed to conceal them and headed back downstairs.
There was still no smell of burning coming from the kitchen and Xander was pleasantly surprised to find that his mother had actually got a couple of baked potatoes in the oven.
‘Almost like a normal family,’ Xander said with a grin and a quick glance upstairs, where the brownies were managing to remain quiet so far.
The kitchen table was, as usual, piled up high with files, old mail and shopping that hadn’t yet been put away. Looking around as if he was seeing it for the first time, Xander could almost see Mrs Stanton pushing up her sleeves and hear her brisk voice saying, ‘it’s not going to clear itself’.
‘I know, I know,’ he muttered under his breath and gathered up an armful of papers.
Ten minutes later, the table was clear, the shopping put away and Xander was laying out cutlery and plates of food. He had unearthed a large colourful bowl to put the fruit in and it brightened up the centre of the slightly battered table.
‘Lunch, Mum,’ he called.
Mrs King looked slightly surprised as she came into the kitchen, to find her plate and her son awaiting her at a neatly scrubbed table. ‘Oh, this is nice,’ she said appreciatively. ‘We should do this more often.’ She searched for the television remote, to turn off the news programme that was flickering away on the television, but then paused. ‘Oh, look. That’s Dominic Bayle. His company is funding some of our work at the university.’
Xander glanced over and saw a tall, extremely handsome man, with dark hair threaded with silver and wearing an elegant suit, standing behind a glittering steel and glass lectern. Across the bottom of the screen ran the words, ‘CEO of Infinity Inc, Dominic Bayle, opening a new marine research facility.’
‘He’s an amazing man,’ said Mrs King, cutting into her potato. ‘He runs one of the biggest global companies in the world with so many different divisions, from media to pharmaceuticals to mining, but he still finds time to support research and community outreach. I actually got to meet him once.’ Her eyes glazed slightly as she gazed at the screen, her face flushed.
Xander reached for the remote control and turned up the volume. Dominic Bayle’s voice filled the room, warm and resonant as he stared into the cameras.
‘I’m proud that Infinity continues to embrace the future, and that when we are confronted with impossible dreams, we stand together to declare, ‘Why not?’ I hope that you will all join us in our journey, as we grasp today’s possibilities and turn them into tomorrow’s realities.’
‘Such an inspiring man,’ said Mrs King, admiringly.
The camera view panned backwards as applause rang out and Xander froze, his fork partway to his mouth as the lower half of the lectern was revealed. On it was a screen showing the company name and, below it, the logo; the infinity symbol spun over and around, looping like a twisted figure of eight. Xander followed it with his eyes, with an all too vivid memory of the hunched figure in room 212, drawing this same symbol over and over again on the wall.
‘Could it be infinity, not eight?’ he wondered, under his breath.
‘What’s that?’ asked Mrs King, her eyes still glued to Dominic Bayle who was smiling and waving to the applauding crowds.
Xander shook his head and then stiffened again, this time with cold prickles running down his back like ice water and his heart pounding. The camera had been circling Bayle, looking for a different angle. Standing to one side of the lectern, holding a steel clipboard with the Infinity company logo on the front, and motionless but for his eyes alertly sweeping the crowds, was Gage. Xander heard his own breath come out unevenly as he gaped at the television screen.
The news programme moved on to a different story and Mrs King reached for the remote and flicked the televisi
on off. She paused, as she took in Xander’s shocked expression, still immobile with a forkful of potato.
‘Xander?’ she said. ‘Are you okay?’
Xander took a deep breath, smiled deliberately at his mother and ate his potato.
‘Absolutely fine,’ he said a moment later, his voice slightly muffled. ‘I think I just need to get a friend to add something to a list.’
His mother smiled vaguely at him.
‘Lists are good,’ she said, nodding her head. ‘Break things down into small steps and that’ll get you where you need to go. I use them all the time.’ She patted her pockets absently, as if she had just remembered a list tucked in there.
Xander smiled and carried on eating his lunch. There was no particular hurry. He had a feeling that he knew exactly where those steps would take him, and Haven wasn’t going anywhere.
Author's Note
As a writer, the most exciting part of publishing your book is finally getting to hear from the people for whom you wrote it – the readers. I would love to hear what you think about the world of Haven and the characters who live in it, so please leave your thoughts for me by posting a review at Amazon. Even one quick sentence is perfect, and it also really helps other readers to decide whether my book is for them. Many thanks to all of you who have done so – it is much appreciated.
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The Traveller’s Stone is the first book of a five-part series. The second book, The Lore of the Sea will be released in early 2020. Further details about the series can be found on my website.
As well as the wonderful readers, there are many other people for whose support I am immensely grateful: my husband and children – first, last and always – as well as all of the friends who have cheered and, occasionally, prodded me on and offered their time and opinions. Also, a huge thank you to the amazing Cakamura Designs who has the magical gift of seeing into my mind and then creating book covers which are a hundred times better than I imagined.