by Elle Scott
I close my eyes and lunge my right foot behind me, I cup the orb with both hands this time and centre myself by holding it against my hip. No hesitation, just do it. I force my right leg forward with my hands and point the orb towards the lake. I make a small grunt from the exertion but it's nothing in comparison to the energy force released from the orb. A flash of blue spirals like a horizontal tornado spinning over the surface of the frozen lake, shattering the ice as it goes. As soon as it hits the end, a thunderous crack breaks the ice completely.
I laugh and spin around to see if Miles is watching. He isn't. I can see him moving food from the pan to plates. I walk down the path and see him glance up at me. He waves with the spatula still in his hand. I point behind me, showcasing my latest orb trick of unfreezing the lake. He smiles sweetly.
~~~
It feels like I’ve slept a week but it’s still dark outside. I shuffle out of the bedroom and am surprised to see Miles sitting at the table with his laptop. The dim light that emanates from the screen is broken only by bursts of flame from the fire place. I pace the cabin and tug on my long cardigan, making sure the orb is still in my pocket.
‘Can’t sleep?’ Miles asks bemused.
I stop to face the fire mantel and reply: ‘No.’
I lift my hand and let it run fluidly along the mantel, exploring the personal items placed there years earlier. A small clock that tells me it’s four o’clock, a white porcelain owl, a faded glass bowl in the shape of a sunflower, a card. The card is black with a single white lily on the front, three simple words inscribed above it, For My Wife. I wonder what kind of man Professor Ladlow really is, or was. I take the card down to read its contents, but before I have the chance Miles stands up.
‘I have an idea,’ his cheeky grin makes me smile. He runs into the bedroom as I place the card back on the mantel. I follow him.
He's opened the cupboard and pulled out two towels. Noticing me, he reaches an arm over his head and grabs his shirt behind him, in one single motion he pulls and it's off. My breath becomes shallow and I hold it in as he walks towards me. I take a step back. His shoulder scrapes mine and the gentle breeze from his moving body feels like a kiss on my face.
‘Are you coming?’ His voice is still soft and smooth.
I move my head over my shoulder but I can't bear to look at him. I furrow my brow and feel embarrassed as I look beyond him through the window. The moon lights up the tiny waves lapping emotionless on the bank.
‘Nora?’ He steps back towards me and out of the corner of my eye I see his hand reach out to mine.
I can't fight myself any longer, I concede—I have to look at him. He stands there, patient and loyal, his eyes wide with expectation yet still delicate and undemanding. He's only five metres from me but the way he is looking at me, makes it seem like his face is an inch from mine. My chest feels like it's burning. I step forward and rest my hand in his, his smooth fingers entangle mine and he tugs at me to follow him.
We make our way to the sand bank and he drops the towels down.
‘So, Miss Ray, you can freeze and unfreeze the lake, sure, but can you warm it up?’ His eyes twinkle in the dull moonlight.
‘Can I?’ I tease.
I stand opposite him and stare as I take the orb from my pocket. I keep my gaze on him and I hold the orb out towards the lake. After only one day practice, I don’t have to exert myself at all. All I have to do is feel the blaze smoldering steady and sure inside of me. It's easier when he is near me. Out of the corner of my eye a red pulse hits the lake and surges beneath.
Instead of going towards the lake, Miles takes a step closer to me. He squints his eyes as if he is waiting for something, like he needs something from me. I don't know what I can give him, if anything at all and I feel the heat rush to my cheeks as I rely on the night to not give away my evident emotions. He reaches his hand up and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. The orb falls through my fingers and the sand cradles it's fall. Don't kiss me, don't kiss me yet!
‘I'll race you there!’ He runs towards the lake.
I tear my cardigan off, cover my orb with it, and chase after him. He's already in the lake by the time I dip my toes in to feel the heated water.
‘You gave yourself a head start!’ I splash water in his direction.
He wades in the bath-like temperature laughing at me.
‘I wonder if the salmon are alright after all this hot and cold action today,’ he teases.
I had never even thought about that. A surge of guilt hits my stomach—how can I not think about the consequences of such a huge action? How can I get this right? How can I do what I need to without the ripple effects of my choices?
I dig my toes into the sand and let the gentle water lap around me.
‘I hope so,’ I reply sadly.
Miles’ face drops and his eyebrows lower as he pushes closer to me, ‘I'm sorry for this burden.’
I shrug and hold my hand out to stop him getting any nearer, his chest hits my palm with passive force. He clears his throat and moves back a little bit, not much, but enough that I'm not touching him anymore.
‘I think I over did it today.’ I give a small laugh.
He gives me a look that I've seen countless times these last few days. It's full of care, full of life, I know he adores me!
‘What?’ I ask.
He smiles, lifts his face to the sky and groans. ‘You!’ he says as he lets his whole body fall under the water.
I've always had high opinions of this generous man but I've also always sensed he liked me more than I could like him back—than I dared to like him back. If I'm honest with myself, I've often had this itching deep beneath the skin, to look at him with open eyes—and I've never allowed myself to. I was happy to be lulled by Xander's charms, I guess it's easy to invest in something that you think won't hurt you too much. But Miles, I've never wanted to know why I've been too scared to think of him that way. I've never allowed myself to think of him in the way I am right now.
He resurfaces about ten metres away and spits water out his mouth like a fountain. The moonlight shimmers off the water drops on his shoulders and chest, I watch them make silver streaks over his muscles. He lays on his back and floats along the top of the lake without a care in the world. But I know I hurt him.
I lower myself in the water to hide—away from the burden, away from the world, from Miles, from the hole in my centre, from myself.
The water feels unnatural as it lines across my chin. I plunge under and let myself fall under the weight of the liquid surrounding me. I hold my breath as long as I can take it before allowing myself to rise. Miles has floated away about thirty metres from me, he is still on his back, I wonder what he is thinking about. The orb? Palladium? Me? I breaststroke my way to him. I don't know why I'm doing this, I can't swim very well. My legs frog-jump behind me as my mouth fills with water, I feel so ungraceful. If he would look at me now, he would see how awkward I am; change his mind about what he likes about me. What does he like about me anyway? Before too long, he will realise it's not enough. It never is.
Every circle of my arm feels heavier than the last, I have to take a break and I roll over to float on my back. He made this look so easy, why is my butt sinking? I push it back up but my shoulders sink and water gushes over my face. I panic and reach my hands along the surface as if to try and grasp something, anything. They fall straight through and I hold my breath as I point my toes to find the bottom of the lake. If I can at least touch it, I can jump to find air. It's too deep. I lunge myself upwards and splutter as I reach the surface. I try to go back to my breaststroke but I'm tired. I feel like I’m stuck in a nightmare. I’m compelled to run and escape from something horrifying—but all I can do is extreme slow motion. That is me, arms flailing but legs waning. Breathe, just breathe. I need air, that's all I need, but I don't know where I am. Am I above the surface or am I in the depths of the lake? The white wash from my arms desperate action rises above me. I'm sinking.
>
THIRTY-THREE
Nora
I laugh to myself, which means I must be hysterical. It’s ironic that I will die drowning. I watch my hands float upwards, they sway like inflated worms in the water around them. My fingers are wrinkled and I grimace at the memory it brings. That memory, the day before my mother left. It’s like a movie I've watched a million times in my head, played and rewound over and over again. Wondering what I said or what I did to make her leave us.
I just had to say those things about wanting to fix things with my heart and hands, and that my heart burned, ugh, why couldn’t I have just stayed quiet?
‘Don’t be silly Eleanora.’ Her last words to me ring in my ears.
She went from teaching me to swim with so much joy, to being disgusted at—what? Me? What could an innocent seven-year-old do to make her own mother leave?
I see her shining face swirling in the water above me. She laughs as I reach for her. Somehow I twist my only good memory so it taunts me. And then I realise, I’ve done this to myself. I’ve been the one to replay the memories like it actually helps me to hurt myself repeatedly. A loop of rejection and guilt and fear.
The heat of the water is beginning to wane, much like my desire to have my mother back. Memories of her should be nothing but rogue waves, to shake off and keep swimming through. I have to keep swimming through. I straighten my floating hands with force and push my fingers through the vision I’ve created of her. Her face dissolves. I lock my elbows tight, and turn my palms out. Then as hard as I can, I use my remaining strength to push my arms down to rest along my body. The water makes way for me as I break through the surface and gulp in as much air as my lungs can contain. Gravity begins to pull me back down, and as I prepare to be engulfed again the pressure of two hands hit my arm pits hard.
‘I've got you!’ Miles says as he pulls my head above water and takes a better grip around my waist.
Gasping, I wrap my legs around his hips and bury my head into his neck. I'm so stupid, so stupid.
‘What were you thinking?’ He scolds me. I feel his legs pumping beneath us, their power keeping us both afloat.
I release my legs, so at least with his help I can wade too. He keeps his arms around me.
‘I just… I just wanted to be near you.’ Did I say those words? Did I mean those words?
He loosens his grip a little and I have to move my legs harder. Our knees knock. I dig my fingers into his collarbone and laugh nervously. Miles trails his hand that rests on my lower back upwards, his fingertips literally bringing shivers up my spine. I can't keep my eyes off of his. Once his hand reaches my shoulder and the other loosely around my waist, he spins me—like a waltz in the water—and brings his chest hard against my back. The tips of his fingers knead their way from my shoulder and stop strategically above my chest. I feel like I'm losing my air more now than I ever did underwater. He moves his face so it's parallel with mine and lowers his mouth to the place between my shoulder and neck, his lips press down on my skin. I'm cradled, from my waist to my neck, in warmth and a comfort and a safety I never thought I could ever have.
‘I'll bring you to shore,’ he says as he pushes me upwards.
I lay under the surface and with his strength to support me, water gushes by like it has no power over me at all.
Once we are back in shallow waters he releases me without warning. I jolt my feet to the bottom and relief hits me as my toes find the sand. I turn to face Miles and watch him as he takes a few steps backwards. I reach my hand to his and tug him closer to me. His eyes dance between mine like he's waiting for permission.
‘Miles,’ I whisper, letting myself fall into his arms. He hugs me tight and secure, like I want him to.
‘What else would I do? Let you drown?’
‘Not for that. Well yes for that, but…’ I stutter.
‘What for?’ He whispers.
I look at his face and hold his jaw in my hands, my thumbs stroke along his cheekbones. ‘Everything.’
His eyes flit to my lips and my breath hitches.
I drop my hands and lower my head and look at the water that tries to separate the minuscule gap between us. Why am I so scared?
His fingers gently pinch my chin, he lifts my face up to his. I lean in. His lips graze mine—
‘Wait… I'm sorry,’ he says pulling away from me.
My hands are left floating in the water as he walks out of the lake and grabs a towel.
‘Miles?’ I let the water drip off me as I step onto the sand bank.
He looks anxious as his hand weaves through his wet hair, for a moment I think he might come back to me but he turns towards the path.
‘Miles!’ I implore.
He pauses.
‘Don't leave me,’ I sound desperate, but I don't care.
He turns his head without looking at me, ‘I'm sorry Nora… Xander.’ He shakes his head and walks to the cabin.
Xander?
‘He was a lifetime ago,’ I say under my breath. A lump arises in my throat and the taste of metal fills my mouth.
What an idiot I am.
I march towards my cardigan and scoop it up with the remaining towel. I hang them over my arm, but when I bend down to collect my orb, it's not there. Miles couldn't have taken it, no one could have taken it. I’m frantic as I begin digging in the sand where I left it, right there where my cardigan was. My fingers comb through inches of sand to find nothing but… sand. I scan the area around me for any trace of my orb. How could it move though, without me carrying it? Two metres away, in the direction of the lake I finally spot it. On my hands and knees, I lift my gaze up over the orb to the sparkling calm lake, where not a few minutes earlier I was drowning.
THIRTY-FOUR
Vivian
‘Xander? Quick!’ A whisper coming from somewhere wakes me from my sleep.
I open my eyes and am briefly disorientated. I'm lying on a mattress not much softer than the floor, with only one rough grey blanket to keep me warm. Yet somehow, I still managed to sleep… at least a little.
I see a dark figure shuffle past the arch of my room's opening. I sit up alert, Xander shouldn't be down here at all let alone this time of night. I glance at my watch. Morning, it's five in the morning! I creep to the edge of my room and peer around into the hallway towards the first security door. Two shadows pass through the door without a sound. Adam is supposed to be on guard tonight, I wonder where he is? I smile to myself, he's probably gone to sleep. I don't know why David brought him here—he's too young, too lazy, too wholesome. He doesn't have enough broken pieces to be a fighter. My knuckles clench until they go white; my palms sting from digging my nails in. I never disagree with David, but this was a mistake, he should never have let Adam come, I feel it in me—it won't end well. Why would he risk another son’s life? Wasn’t losing Seth enough?
Without a second thought, I chase after them—running on the balls of my feet as quietly as I can. I lean against the first door and hold the handle, I'm careful not to cause it to bolt open. I push down on the handle and my sigh is louder than the door as it pops open, like the lid off a jam jar. I shift my body through the small opening and slide into the first cell on the right. I’m sheltered from the flickering flames that hang intermittent on the walls.
‘Why are you helping me so readily? Don't you work for these guys now?’ Xander asks Ross, his voice echoes off the rock wall and tunnels it's way to me, I cringe. Even though Xander is somewhere he shouldn't be, it doesn't mean he's not someone I still care about, I don't want to see him in trouble.
Ross shrugs and lifts his finger to his lips as they approach the second security door, it's already open and a familiar face peers through. Adam. He opens the door wider for them to enter. I tuck my feet as far back as possible but the long beams of steel from the cell are only inches from the cavern opening onto the path. The smooth beams carve into my back, in contrast to my hand as it leans against the rough damp wall. Sometimes when I touch the rocky walls
I feel as if I'm moulding into it—becoming stone, invisible and cold. Adam squints down the hallway, he's looking straight at me, my breath disappears into my own chest. There's no way he can see me, we only keep every second lantern on at night, it makes it easier to sleep—I'm hidden in the dark crevice of the cell. But he mustn't have seen me, because he soon ducks his head back into the room when Ross and Xander pass. I run to the door he's left ajar and press my cheek to it, I can see fragments of them inside, but most importantly I hear them.
I see half of Xander's back, his arm pointing to Adam. ‘You're Nichols’ son right?’
‘Sure,’ he whispers, going over to the doorway to David's quarters and checking that the door is closed.
‘Viv never mentioned you worked here?’ Xander moves out of my sight as he presses for information, a hint of roughness in his voice.
Adam and Ross exchange a knowing glance before Ross settles himself on a seat at the orb table. He sits opposite a pixie-like blonde girl I've not noticed before. I can only see his feet now. The only person in my view is Adam and the back of the blonde girl. His hair falls in a messy mop over his eyes, I almost want to reach out and sit him down, grab some scissors and trim away—like I used to do for Seth. I look at Adam longingly and resent him for his appearance, he makes me think too much of Seth.
‘My dad is a pathological liar. He tells my mum he's still teaching chemistry at the University but he's not been there for well over five years. I found out by accident really. I wanted to have lunch with him one day; ask him how he felt about me being with Viv, but he wasn't there and the office staff told me he left years ago.’
Adam being with me?
‘Wait, back up, you're with Viv?’ Xander asks. ‘You're what? Fifteen?’
Adam's face drops. ‘Nah, she's not interested. And I'm seventeen.’
I think back through the moments that have passed, any sign of his interest was lost on me. Although, I don't think I've been one to notice any sign from males, not in the last five years.