“I don’t know!” she yelled back, face red and tear-stained. She strode around like a caged lion, shaking. Her expression wild with disbelief. “I d-don’t know.” Her voice broke, and I ached for her, wishing I could understand and say it would be all right. The truth was, I didn’t know anymore.
I patted her shoulder, not knowing what to do.
Evelyn pulled away. “Why are Tressa’s and…and…the other t-tombst…memorials unmarked? Beatrix is the only person we know for sure is dead, and she’s the only one with a proper grave! For all w-we know, they all might actually b-be on the other side of the Boundary!” she blabbed, struggling over some of the words and hiccupping. “W-what if to win is to c-conquer our fears and s-step over? What if the t-trials are helping us? P-pushing us towards s-success?”
“Don’t be daft,” I said hesitantly. It was simply too easy. “Fred burned himself, remember? When he got too close to the Boundary?”
“Don’t say his name as if he’s gone,” Evelyn growled fiercely.
“Look, nobody’s saying he’s dead. He’s was probably forced over the Boundary, like Tressa,” Lucas decided, gesturing around to the barren landscape. Evelyn hiccupped again and started crying, but Lucas ignored her. “In under two months, half of us have disappeared, we don’t know where they are, we don’t know who’s next, we don’t know how to stop this madness. Something has to change here, because I for one don’t plan on losing. I’m getting out of here.”
“Me too,” I agreed. “We’ve lost everything, and—”
“How many times have we said this?” Evelyn interrupted bitterly, kicking a smoldering tree trunk so that chunks of ashes exploded into the air. “To be honest, I don’t care anymore. I’d rather be where Fr…he is than have to deal with these ridiculous ordeals. Like you said, no one knows how the Boundary works, and therefore nothing can ever be accomplished.”
“Or do they?” Lucas gasped, his eyes lighting up all of a sudden. He turned to me, grinning in a scared anticipation. “Why haven’t we thought of it before?”
“Because it’s suicide,” I snapped, suddenly realizing what he was suggesting and the magnitude of it. “Gosh, Lucas, don’t be an idiot!”
“I’m not, I’m not!” he insisted, turning to Evelyn for support. “Granted it’s dangerous, but then what isn’t nowadays?”
“I’m not following,” Evelyn admitted, but her interest was roused and she stopped crying.
“He wants to interrogate the Master,” I explained, waiting for her reaction.
“Go ahead then,” she replied, and my jaw dropped. “No, really, I’m done with caring. Do what you feel is right. Nothing matters now.”
“Penny, don’t you see?” Lucas turned once again, his face imploring me to understand. “You can rip, for a start, which has got to count for something. We as a trio can give up and cross the Boundary to…wherever it is people go. That would leave Him with nothing to rule over, which I’m guessing he would hate. We can bargain for information.”
“Lucas,” I retorted in amazement. “You moron. You realize that He’d probably just call our bluff? Then punish us for even asking?”
“Tressa and Avery found something,” he insisted, his smile slipping into a frown of irritation. “I intend to find it too, one way or another.”
I gestured to the crumbling ruins of the manor, still flabbergasted that a clever boy such as he would even dream of doing such a silly thing.
“Assuming it isn’t a pile of ashes?”
“I think it’s information.” Lucas shrugged stonily, crossing his arms. “And they got it from somewhere, or someone. Before you say Beatrix, she was dead long before they started getting all secretive.”
D. It was the only explanation.
“Lucas,” I began, accidentally taking a deep breath of smoky air. “There’s something I need to tell you. I should have said it long ago, but—”
I broke off in alarm as a great creaking sound echoed behind me. We whipped around, and Evelyn shrieked as a massive tree, burnt to black, began to fall straight towards us. I tried to run after the other two to safety, but realized my nightgown was snagged on a stake of wood buried deep into the ground. I yanked and tugged, but it was stuck fast.
I closed my eyes and threw my hands up over my head, waiting.
A moment later and nothing had happened, it should have hit by now. Tentatively opening one eye, I noted with shock the tree was hovering a few inches above my head, moving so slowly that it appeared to be floating.
I don’t care what promises I made you. Tell anyone, and you will be disposed of.
It was that voice again, the one that could be any age, any gender, or any number of people.
And now I had no doubt who it was.
The tree moved again, crashing down within a foot of my head and sending hot sparks spraying onto my bare arms. The pain meant nothing, and I was frankly just glad to be alive.
“Are you all right?” Evelyn and Lucas asked in unison, rushing back over.
“Fine,” I muttered, pulling my nightgown free with absolute ease.
“That was lucky. I was prepared to go into mourning for another person!” Lucas remarked cynically, and Evelyn gasped.
“Don’t joke!” she squealed, tears welling up again. “And besides, we don’t have to ‘go into mourning’ as you so put it. He. Isn’t. Dead.”
“I know, I’m only teasing, however inappropriately timed it may be. Penny, what was that you were going to say?”
A pile of deadly looking debris was picked up by a faint breeze just to my left, swirling around warningly. Bits of splintered wood, chunks of rubble; things much too heavy to be carried by a regular wind.
“Ah, nothing. I was just going to suggest that we take a look inside, now, and see what can be salvaged,” I shrugged lightly, and the air stilled again. “I think it should be cool enough now. That rip was powerful enough.”
“I suppose we should, better sooner rather than later.” Lucas shrugged. “Besides, He might be there and—”
“You’re not going to talk to Him.” I clenched my fists in irritation. “I’m not going to let you do something that imbecilic, especially when we need every life that’s left.”
“If you really want to, I could do the talking?” Evelyn offered gloomily, her puffy red eyes refusing to meet mine. “I don’t mind, because if it ends badly I might get reunited with Fred, whilst you two might have a shot at freedom. If such a thing even exists, of course.”
“Of course it exists!” I snapped, chilled by the idea. “Good grief, I shall have to lock the both of you in a padded room, you seem so bent on your own destruction!”
“It isn’t giving up,” Lucas argued, affronted. “It’s the exact opposite! Now stop finding fault in everything I say, and let’s go inside.”
I grumbled under my breath, but relented. Evelyn, still sniffing, followed us into the ruins.
It was tricky even getting near the front door – or, at least, where it had been. We gingerly climbed over the rubble, some of which was still smoking.
Lucas was only wearing socks and Evelyn was barefoot, and they both kept wincing as they trod on odd warm embers. The front doors lay on the ground like a drawbridge, carvings filled with dirt and tinged black in many places. A massive open archway was exposed, showing the dust-coated interior and cracked marble floor littered with pieces of stone, melted glass, and broken furniture. Chunks of blackened beams were reminders of what had once been the spectacular rafters, and I supposed that great hunk of melted metal was the chandelier. Plasterwork was gone entirely, as was most of the furniture, and the velvet drapes contributed to the largest pile of ash. The walls themselves were charred up to halfway down, the remainder dusted grey and rather unstable.
“Why would He burn down this place?” Evelyn breathed in a hushed tone, awed by the sheer extent of the damage. “It’s so sad. It feels as if the manor itself is sad.”
“I don’t think He did,” I whispered, wading
through a carpet of ashes to the stairs, which were thankfully intact. “He came and stopped the fire.” I pondered on this for a moment. “But then if He isn’t controlling the trials, who is?”
“This is precisely why we need to question Him,” Lucas repeated in a sickening know-it-all tone. “Who knows, perhaps He’s angry at them for burning down His castle and might tell.”
I chose not to answer, grinding my teeth and pushing forwards up the stairs. Gosh, why couldn’t Lucas have disappeared instead of Fred?
There was a chill coming in from where the hall used to be, carrying dust from the forest of ruins. Oh, how I longed for those days when lessons were the worst things. Well, them and the Master.
Now we were thinking of actually approaching Him for help against something even bigger.
“At least the breakfast room is okay,” I quipped, nodding towards the turret to our right. “And perhaps the boys’ bedchamber.”
“My dresses!” Evelyn screamed in horror, forgetting her sorrow for one moment. “Do you really mean I shall have to wear my nightie all day, with no change of clothing?”
“Quite possibly,” I nodded, feeling buoyed by the prospect of having never to wear a corset again. “Of course, Lucas will be able to lend us some of the boys’ old outfits. If they’ve survived that is. And even if they’re smoke damaged, they would still be better than what we have now.”
“Wear Fred’s old clothes…?” Evelyn whimpered faintly, and fell with a thud on the landing, passed out cold.
“Dear lord.” Lucas rolled his eyes. “There’s not even anyone left to impress.”
“Try telling her that.” I sighed. “Wherever there’s a mirror, there’s a need to look good. It’s her motto.”
“I think I bumped my head,” Evelyn piped up in wonder, heaving herself off the floor and touching the spot tenderly. “It hurts.”
Then she burst into tears again, genuine, heartfelt tears. Her whole body shook, and we knelt next to her in alarm.
“Evelyn, it’s okay,” I lied soothingly. “You’ll be fine.”
“How do you know?” she wailed, getting up and shaking us away forcefully. “We promised if we stuck together it would be okay. If we didn’t do anything brash it would be okay. If we waited long enough, it would be okay. But it isn’t, is it? We’re all going to die.”
Before I could object – or agree – she had run away from us, crying at the top of her lungs.
“Let her go,” Lucas ordered gently as I made to chase after her. “She needs time to process what’s happened.”
“She can’t shut out on us now, though! Dear me, if we followed traditional mourning each time we lost someone, I’d be wearing black to the grave!” I chuckled a tad hysterically. “You said so yourself!”
“I think Fred meant a little bit more to her than just a friend, though,” Lucas reminded me, his tone becoming less confident at the subject of affections. “And like she said, there still might be reason to believe…”
He trailed off, eyes glazing over, and went completely still.
“Lucas? Lucas?” I waved my arm in front of his face, trying to see what he was looking at to no avail. There was nothing but a mangled mess of ruins to one side, and the same old (if not dirtied) manor to the other. “Am I missing something?”
“I might be going round the bend,” Lucas said frowning, raising a shaky finger to point at something amongst the splintered beams, “but see if you can notice something odd in that pile of wood.”
I squinted until my eyes watered, searching for the elusive detail, but alas could see nothing. Delicately, I stepped a little ways into the ruins and took a closer peak at the area he was pointing to. When I finally saw it, I was actually rather peeved at how mundane the issue was.
“An ‘R’?” I questioned, not bothering to keep the disappointment from my voice. Nothing special, nothing that could help us unwind the web – only a miniscule scratch in the largest beam that distinctly resembled an R. “You have better eyes than I thought. Now, shall we go upstairs and try to salvage something to uphold the collection of Evelyn’s wardrobe?”
“You don’t think it’s a little odd?” Lucas pressed, still staring at the letter as if it were a fascinating specimen, instead of a blemish the height of my hand. “To have a scratch that perfect? I mean, it’s so clearly an R, and how could it possibly be formed by something as wild as a fire?”
“So are you saying one of us quickly ran into the blaze and carved a random letter into a chunk of wood, just for fun?” I joked scornfully. “Please, Lucas. Stop over-analyzing things.”
“I will analyze whatever I want, however I want, thanks very much.” Lucas frowned in irritation. “And I have a gut feeling that it’s important, so I shall commit it to memory.”
“That gut feeling,” I remarked with a snort. “It couldn’t be caused by under-eating, could it? Something nasty in the gruel?”
“Shut up. Those are my boots you’re wearing, don’t forget, and it was me who saved your unworthy backside in the fire.”
“What, these are boots?” I gasped in mock surprise. “I thought they were clues. I was going to wear them, because committing to memory is old-fashioned.”
“I surrender.” Lucas sighed, not even looking at me but pushing ahead up the creaking staircase. “Because that is the worst taunt I have ever heard anyone say. It’s embarrassing to even be involved with an argument that infantile.”
I smirked to myself, not at all offended, and rather pleased to be acting like a young teenager again.
Our suspicions were confirmed; though the breakfast room remained intact, along with the boys’ chamber and two empty rooms, the girls’ chamber had been completely obliterated as we thought. It was now nothing more than a pile of smoking rubble, hidden under the splintered remains of what had once been the roof and the attic.
“Heavens,” I breathed, thinking only that this wouldn’t help Evelyn’s mood whatsoever. “I fear we’ll have to be borrowing from you, Lucas, after all – this doesn’t look good for our wardrobes.”
“There’s a pile of clothing just over there,” he replied quietly, pointing to where a lonely sleeve was fluttering in a slight breeze.
“Tressa,” I remembered sadly. “They must belong to her.”
Deciding that it would be better than forcing Evelyn into a shirt and trousers, I ducked under a beam and crawled through the jungle, occasionally hissing in pain as my flesh made contact with a still-burning ember or particularly sharp splinter of wood or glass. My nightie snagged on a nail and ripped up to my thigh, exposing the most skin I had ever seen, but I kept going.
Underneath the bricks and shingles, it was possible to see the shattered remains of our life. The blackened duvet of someone’s bed, an ornate chunk of a vanity, porcelain remnants of a washbowl. And, miraculously untouched by the flames, a couple of Tressa’s old day dresses.
I quickly cleared the rubble aside and sifted through to find as many as I could which were still wearable. It turned out that only a few fitted that criteria, as many had their sleeves burned off, torn, or were trapped underneath bricks. I didn’t understand why this was so, and was at first suspicious. But on closer examination there wasn’t anything untoward apart from the fact they were undamaged. This must have been D’s doing. I was thankful as we at least had something to wear.
“Three,” I announced when I was safely back in the corridor with Lucas again. “We can make do with that until…”
Until what? Until we got out, or died?
“Two,” he corrected upon further inspection. “This one is burned on the back, see?”
Lucas held the soft yellow dress up so that I could see the strange black mark that someone had branded onto the bodice.
D.
“It says ‘D’ on it!” I shouted, panicked, before I could think.
“I suppose it does,” Lucas affirmed wryly, a small smile creeping up the sides of his mouth. “But please don’t show favoritism towards lett
ers. If you refuse to acknowledge R, then what makes D so special?”
“Because…” I stuttered. Because my crazy, vindictive, possibly psychic ex-pen pal is called D!
“Exactly. Two letters in five minutes, there’s got to be a pattern here.” Lucas frowned, excited by the prospect of a puzzle he might actually be able to solve. “Keep an eye out; they’ve not been obvious, and if we miss one, it might not solve.” I rolled my eyes and threw the faulty gown into the mess, folding the other two over my arm.
We made our way to the boys’ bedchamber.
I stood for a moment looking around the room and thinking. “So for sleeping arrangements, shall we drag two spare bedding sets into one of the unused rooms?” I suggested, deciding that someone had to take care of domestics before we got too carried away with puzzles.
Lucas agreed, clearly having not thought of such matters. I dumped the dresses in the corner, and we spent the next few minutes gathering the duvets and pillows from Fred and Avery’s abandoned beds to take into the closest empty room, not trusting ourselves to speak.
I had never been in the boys’ chamber, and even after all that had happened it still felt terribly scandalous. I had once wondered what kinds of interesting, new things it held, and now I was inside it looked disappointingly ordinary.
The layout was exactly the same as ours had been, despite the room being slightly smaller and a different shape, with the vanity tables being replaced by small desks and the color scheme more neutral than pastel.
We heaved the linen down the hallway into the first undamaged room, halfway between the chamber and the partially burnt common room.
Evelyn was inside, curled up next to a moldy lace curtain and letting the open window blow in a cold air, as if to blow her problems away. It was the same room Avery had complained about her and Fred in, and my stomach twisted uncomfortably.
“Hey,” I called, but she didn’t look up. “I’ve found some extra dresses we can change into! And we’re setting up temporary beds here until we figure something else out.”
“Super,” she shrugged flatly, not seeming to care as much as I had expected.
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