Chapter 6
That Gargoyle Is Smirking at Me
Holly
Wow, we kissed.
I didn’t mean to kiss him. But there was always a connection between us, however much I tried to forget him after he left. It’s like we’re part of a whole.
God, I’ve missed him so much.
But that doesn’t change the fact that he thinks I betrayed him. He’s never going to trust me again.
And really—ditto. He believes I lied about something so important. How could he believe that of me?
I thought about that kiss all night—about how the world went quiet for a second in that hut in the snow.
The way I panicked afterward. Because I’d wanted him. Right then. Right there. Terrified that if I let him go, he would vanish out of my life again.
Which he’s pretty much admitted is his plan. Get Tansy and run. I have to remember that he didn’t come back for me.
In the end, I backed off because I was scared. This new Zayne is…too much.
But just one more thing before I do my best to put that kiss from my mind—he’s been getting some practice somewhere. This new Zayne sure knows how to kiss a girl. Grrr.
We didn’t talk on the way home, but he looped his arm in mine. When we got back, the villagers were gone, searching for the children. Dad was just setting off to clear the road again, and I grabbed a sandwich and went along. I needed to be doing something.
I stayed in the village to help with the search, but we found absolutely nothing. No sign. How can twelve children just vanish? We continued until well after dark, and there was no inch of the area left to look. I was so exhausted when I got back that I needed no excuse to go straight to my bed.
And dream of old boyfriends and hot kisses.
Ugh.
When I get down to the kitchen, everyone has beaten me to it.
I hover in the doorway for a minute. Zayne is standing at the coffee machine.
He’s wearing a black shirt and black leather pants.
Who wears leather pants? Obviously, Zayne.
The shirt is stretched tight over broad shoulders, and he has a thick leather belt around his waist. And the pants… no, not going there.
I force my gaze up to his face and find him smirking at me again. Yeah, I’m staring, but he’s a little overwhelming—and I kissed him.
God. I need to forget about that for now. We need to go find out what’s happening. Maybe extend the search farther afield…
Heat from the Aga fogs the windows. Mum, Dad, Milo, and Josh are sitting around the big, scrubbed table in the middle of the kitchen.
They all look up as I enter. That thing is still sitting on Josh’s shoulder, and I swear it’s looking at me.
It’s like the gargoyles you see on churches.
It bares its teeth at me. What the fuck?
I look away; clearly, I’m now hallucinating.
I sink into the nearest empty chair. I need coffee.
Zayne places a mug in front of me. I cup my hands around it and take a sip. Cream and sugar—just as I like it.
“What’s happening?” I ask. “Is there any news?”
“Nothing,” Dad says.
Damn.
“I’ve been phoning around again,” Mum adds. “The local police station says they’ve got everyone available searching—anywhere they can think of, but nobody’s seen any sighting of a group of children.”
That’s not good. I mean, how hard would they be to miss? There are twelve of them. Twelve children. That’s everyone in the village between the ages of six and fourteen. Except Milo. Why? How? The older ones would have had more sense than to just wander off. It makes no sense.
Zayne pulls out a chair and sits down next to me. “They won’t find any trace of them,” he says to the room in general. “They went through a mirror at Silvergate.”
I clench my teeth. I can’t believe he said that. I slam my coffee down hard, so it splashes over the table, burning my hand. Ouch. But really, we need clear heads right now, and he’s not helping.
“We don’t have time for this,” I snap. “We have to get out and look for them. They must have gone further afield, and the snow covered any evidence. There’s a logical explanation. We just have to find it.”
He shakes his head. “No. You just have to accept the truth, Holly. Magic is real.”
They’re all staring at me, as if willing me to say something like, yeah, I’m now a believer.
That is not going to happen. Never. But I can feel the pressure building behind my eyes.
I look around at them all. Milo and Josh are watching with wide eyes.
Mum and Dad look…worried. That gargoyle-thing is now on the table, and I swear it’s smirking.
Suddenly, I feel so…lost. “Why are you all doing this? Can’t you see that it makes no sense? You’re never going to make me believe that magic is real.”
Mum and Dad glance at each other, worried expressions on their faces. There’s an unspoken conversation going on there; I just have no clue what they’re saying.
My dad clears his throat. “Perhaps you should try to keep an open mind, Holly.”
I don’t believe this. I really freaking don’t. What’s going on? Why can’t they see that they’re talking nonsense? “Never,” I snap. “You’ll never make me believe it.”
Zayne says, “I think she might have some sort of compulsion spell on her. Do you know anything about that?” I realize he’s asking Mum and Dad, but what the hell does he mean? Dad’s hand tightens on Mum’s. Cups rattle. No one breathes.
I turn my head slowly to look at Zayne. “What are you talking about?” But he’s not looking at me; he’s still looking at Mum and Dad. They turn to each other.
“We have to tell her, Paul,” my mum says.
“Tell me what?” I swallow. I have a feeling it’s not something I want to hear and probably not something I’m going to believe anyway, the way this morning is going.
“We can’t,” Dad says. “We promised. What if—”
“It’s been so long,” my mum interrupts. “We don’t even know if Laura is alive. And now the children are missing, and you know it has to have something to do with what happened to Laura. It has to.”
Laura? Who the hell is Laura? “Mum, Dad, what’s going on?”
My mum clasps her hands together on the table and leans a little closer toward me. I have to resist the urge to put my hands over my ears. My heart is pounding.
“You’re not our biological daughter,” she says.
My brain blanks. The words hang there, heavy and impossible, and the air just…drops out of the room.
I can hear my own pulse in my ears.
“That’s not funny,” I whisper, but it comes out cracked, like the words have been frozen solid inside me.
And the look on Mum’s face—God, her face—makes my stomach twist. She’s serious. Heat floods up my neck, then drains away just as fast, leaving me hollow and cold.
“Twenty years ago,” my dad begins, “on the night of the solstice, we brought our baby daughter home from the hospital. We were going to name her Laura. She was only a day old. That night we fell asleep, feeling everything was wonderful. We’d always wanted a daughter.
We woke in the early hours of the morning, and she was gone. ”
“We got up and searched,” Mum continues. “And we found a trail of holly through the snow. It led to the old shepherd’s hut between here and Silvergate.”
My brain stops at that. That’s where I was with Zayne yesterday. I know I said I hadn’t been there before, but I had a feeling. My mind just won’t work, my thoughts tangled, and I blink a couple of times trying to clear my head.
“There was a woman sitting on the wall outside, holding a baby,” Mum says. “But it wasn’t Laura. It was you. You were clearly a newborn, but you were beautiful with silver eyes and silver hair, and you had a piece of holly clutched in your hand.”
She goes quiet, lost in the memory. Dad puts a hand on her arm, and she almost jumps, then gives herself a little shake.
“The woman looked so like you. She was crying. She said she was sorry. She had no choice. She’d taken Laura and would bring her up as her own and love her.
And could we please try and do the same for you?
She said that she’d had no choice. That if she kept you, then evil people would harm you.
She begged us to look after you. She said if we did as she asked, Laura would be safe.
If we told anyone… Then she handed you to me and disappeared inside the hut. ”
“I followed her,” Dad continues, “but she was gone. Just vanished. We were devastated. We’d lost our baby, but at the same time, there you were…”
I’m not their child.
The thought slices through me, sharp as the winter air. A clean wound, no blood yet. Just the shock of it. It lands, cold and sharp: they’re telling the truth. My whole life has been a lie.
My fingers are tingling, and there’s a ringing in my ears.
“You must have hated me.” My voice is small, whispered.
“Never,” my mum says fiercely. “We never hated you. We never blamed you. It was hard at first—obviously it was hard—we’d lost our baby.
But we had to hope she was being looked after.
And you were there, and you needed to be cared for, and you were so good, such a perfect child.
We never forgot Laura, and we hope somewhere that she is thriving and loved.
But we came to love you dearly, as much as if you were our own. ”
I push my chair back and get up. The room tilts. I grab the edge of the table, fingers slipping on the wood. Zayne’s hand lands on my arm, warm, grounding—but it only makes the rest of me feel colder. I look down at him, but I have zero clue what to say. I’m lost.
I blink away a tear. Another wells up and slides down my cheek. I want to scream. Cry. Something. But all that comes out is this horrible, shaky laugh.
But then my shoulders stiffen. I take a gulp of air.
“What has this got to do with the missing children?” I say.
“What has it got to do with magic?” I search my mind for an explanation.
“Obviously, she was just some troubled woman. You should have gone to the police. You should have...” I take a deep gulp of air.
“It doesn’t mean anything. It certainly doesn’t mean that magic is real. ”
Then I drag my arm free and scrape the chair back. I stare at them all for a second, whirl around, and run out of the room. Then out of the front door and into the snow. My feet slow as the thought whirls in my head.
My whole life is a lie.
The words echo inside my skull until they don’t mean anything anymore.
Snow stings my face as I stumble on. If I keep moving, maybe the world will stop spinning. I wrap my arms around myself and cling to the one truth I know for sure—magic isn’t real.
It can’t be real.