All That Remains

Prologue

Nathan

Nathan used to think that parties were fun. Friends and games and using his Gift to steal extra cake. But that was the past, when Mum was still here. This party is boring, just like all the others Dad drags him to.

Grownups stand around talking, wearing fancy clothes and sipping glasses of bubbly wine.

They’re allowed fizzy drinks, even though they won’t let anyone else drink them.

Nathan was offered juice, milk or water when he and Dad arrived, stepping into the house through a pair of big double doors like they have at home.

Dad shoos him out into the garden right away, turning to one of his friends with a fake smile on his face.

There’s nothing to do in the garden, at least nothing fun.

There’s a metal frame tucked away in a corner, white netting hanging still between the goal posts, but there are no footballs.

Some swings are set up on a sunny patch of grass, but a group of girls have claimed them, taking turns to push each other and staying boringly low.

Nathan recognises most of the kids. They’re Gifted, just like he is, children of powerfully Gifted parents, baby birds waiting in the nest for testing day.

Their parents encourage them to play together, but none of them are Nathan’s real friends.

He doesn’t see his real friends much any more, not since Mum went away.

He hides his empty box of apple juice behind a pot at the edge of the patio. The pot has a little tree clipped into the shape of a ball. He wonders if it’d make a good football before a flash of motion draws his attention.

A woman in a dress covered in little yellow flowers steps out of the house with a plate.

Nathan’s mouth waters. These parties might be boring, but the cakes are always good. If he’s quick, maybe he can sneak another one without Dad noticing.

He clasps his hands behind his back, walking oh so casually across the grey slabs towards the house. Someone ruffles his hair as he slips through a forest of legs.

The cakes are beautiful. There are tiny square ones with shiny white icing and crunchy round ones made of nuts and caramel dipped in chocolate.

Rectangles of chocolate sponge sandwiched around squidgy buttercream, topped with little bits of gold that flicker like birthday candles.

Not that it’s anyone’s birthday. The cake is just here to show off.

Nathan turns away from the table, looking out across the garden like he’s trying to spy a friend. He makes a picture in his mind, painting the scene behind him with as much detail as he can, focusing on the eclairs with their stripes of pink icing.

One hand flattens out behind his back, ready.

Nathan tries not to smile when the eclair lands in his palm. If he shuffles off around the side of the house, he can enjoy his prize undisturbed.

“I said no cake.” Dad plucks the eclair from his hand, his voice gruff. “If you’re bored, go play with the Claremont girl. It’s looking likely she’ll be strong, perhaps a six or a seven. She’ll make you a good wife when you’re both grown.”

“Don’t wanna wife,” Nathan grumbles, glaring at the cake table over his shoulder.

“One day you will. Go. Another hour and we can leave.” Dad strides away, dropping the eclair onto an abandoned plate as he goes.

Nathan knows better than to go after it.

He walks across the patio, deliberately dragging his feet until Dad shoots a stern look his way.

There are a few clusters of other kids scattered around the neatly trimmed lawn. They play quietly, bodies moving carefully in tucked shirts and neat dresses. Nathan makes a face, navigating around them until he reaches a crooked apple tree at the wilder edge of the garden.

A boy he doesn’t know stands just under the spreading branches, face scrunched up in a frown. Nathan follows his gaze upwards, landing on a shiny green apple dangling from a high branch.

The boy sighs, the frown melting as his shoulders drop, sending short brown curls bouncing. A moment later, his shoulders creep back towards his ears, a crease appearing between his eyebrows.

His Gift isn’t working properly. Maybe he’s hungry? Nathan finds it hard to focus when he’s hungry. His stomach twinges in sympathy.

He focuses on the apple, taking in the rosy blush splashed across the glossy green skin. It’s harder to move than the eclair. The stalk tethering it to the branch needs a little twist before it breaks.

Nathan floats the apple gently down towards the boy, pushing it towards his chest when he doesn’t reach for it. “Go on. Take it.”

He replies through clenched teeth. “I don’t need your help.”

Nathan shrugs and lets the apple fall.

The boy stoops, quick as a flash, catching it before it hits the ground. He turns, brown eyes cold, maybe even angry. “I said I didn’t want it.”

“You said you didn’t need my help. But I saw you, your Gift wasn’t working. You’re welcome.” Nathan gives him a good glower, annoyed by his lack of gratitude.

“He isn’t Gifted. He’s a Blank. He’s useless.”

Nathan turns towards Mirabelle Claremont, all fancy in a white dress with multicoloured ribbons. She has a pink rose tucked in her hair, the same kind as the ones in the fenced off part of the garden.

He waits for the boy to correct her, but he doesn’t say anything. He looks angry, lips pressed together in a tight white line.

“Why’d he be here if he isn’t Gifted?” Nathan asks with a sneer.

“His family are Gifted. His brother is Gifted.” Mirabelle points to a boy across the garden, a bigger version of the one currently shaking with anger under the tree. “Everyone knows Will has nothing. He’s a freak.”

The boy called Will presses his lips together even harder, hands balled into fists at his side.

“He’s a freak and an embarrassment, that’s what Mum says,” Mirabelle continues, her face twisted with a sick sort of glee.

“Who would have thought one of the powerfullest Gifted families could have a kid with no Gift? It’s a wonder they didn’t put him up for adoption.

Maybe they will when he’s tested and he’s officially a Blank. He’s worthless.”

“You can’t say that.” Nathan shakes his head, his own brow furrowing at the feeling building in his chest. “My mum always says that every person has their worth, Gifted or not.”

“Your mum’s dead, she can’t say anything. And you’re boring. Have fun with your freaky little friend.” Mirabelle sticks her tongue out and runs off.

Nathan feels cold all of a sudden. The threat of tears prickles behind his eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

Nathan looks up, startled. “Huh?”

“About your mum.” Will’s looking over at him, face drained of the rage it had held before.

“Oh. Thanks.”

They lapse into silence. Nathan takes a step back, away from Will and the apple tree and towards the house. He’s sure his face is all scrunched up like Will’s was. Dad would tell him off if he were here.

“Did you believe her?” Will looks at him like he’s a mouse and Nathan’s a cat about to pounce. “Your mum, I mean. When she said every person has their worth.”

“Of course. She never lies.”

“I didn’t…” Will sighs, cradling the apple close to his belly. “Thanks for saying it.”

“Mirabelle’s nasty. Takes after her mum, Dad says.

” Nathan looks at Will, his face painted with so many different emotions it’s hard to separate them.

He’s never met anyone who wears their heart so clearly on their face.

“Anyway. Mum’s right. Everyone has their worth, Gifted or not. I don’t care if you don’t have a Gift.”

“You don’t?” Will’s expression flickers through shock to disbelief. “But all the other kids…”

“I don’t care what the other kids think. There’s more to life than Gifts.” Mum used to say that all the time, usually when Dad tried to force them to go to parties like this one. “There’s more to people than whether they’re Gifted or not.”

Will looks down at the scraggly grass beneath his feet. “You can borrow mine if you want.”

“Borrow your what?”

“My mum. She says things like that too. I thought only she said… I thought she was the only one.” He looks up, his gaze colliding with Nathan’s. “I think you’d like her. You can come round to our house any time.”

“Um… thanks.”

Will tilts his head, curly brown hair slipping over his eyes. “What’s your name? You never said.”

“Oh. It’s Nathan. Nathan Warner.”

“I’m Will Savea. That’s my older brother Jonnie over there. D’you have brothers and sisters?”

“Nah. Mum always says I’m more than enough work on my own.”

“You can borrow Jonnie too, if you want. Actually, you can have him. Wanna share the apple?”

Nathan returns Will’s smile with a nod. They drop down onto the ground, side by side with their backs to the party carrying on behind them.

He’s about to ask if he should use his Gift to split the apple when Will rips it clean in two with his bare hands. “I thought you didn’t have a Gift?”

“I don’t.” Will hands Nathan’s half over and licks a smear of juice from his palm. “It’s easy. Anyone can do it. Get another one and I’ll show you.”

A few minutes later, Nathan breaks an apple in two without his Gift.

Fifteen minutes later, they have a pile of split apples before them, sticky juice running down their chins as they bite into the flesh.

Thirty minutes later, Nathan has a friend.

An hour passes, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t go find Dad to ask if they can leave. He feels almost happy, hanging around with Will. And it looks like Will feels the same, his face lit up with a smile, the earlier frowns all gone away.

It’s nice. Talking to Will lifts his spirits, makes him feel like there’s at least one more person who believes in the Nathan that exists beyond his Gift. Someone who would hang out with him because of him.

It’s nice. Not feeling alone.

When they’re sick of eating apples, they pile up the leftovers on the lawn and watch the insects come. A fat bumblebee buzzes around curiously before it flies off towards a bush covered in flowers, and a few ants scurry over the browning fruit, antennae twitching with excitement.

“Nathan, look.”

He follows the line of Will’s finger. A big black-and-white butterfly rests on the tree trunk, its wings opening and closing slowly.

They watch in silence as it lifts off, meandering through the air towards their pile of apple halves.

“Do butterflies eat fruit?” Nathan asks, not really caring about the answer.

“I think so.” Will’s voice is quiet, his face serious as they watch the butterfly land on the topmost chunk. “Oh. I guess they do.”

The butterfly feasts for a little while, unaware it’s being watched. It lurches into the air, fluttering around aimlessly before it starts flapping its way over towards them.

Will holds out his hand, his face slackening with surprise when it lands on his fingertip. The black and white markings are so intricate, up close, splotches like a checkerboard arranged along its wings.

Their eyes meet, the wonder in Will’s eyes exactly matching how Nathan feels inside.

Eventually it flutters away, taking flight from Will’s finger and flying off into the distance. Nathan feels sad to see it go, the butterfly and the wonder it brought along with it. He waves it off, feeling a little silly and then a little comforted as Will lifts his hand to join in.

The light is fading when Dad finally comes for him.

In the car on the way home, Nathan watches the houses flash past, the gaps between them widening the closer they get to home.

“Seems like you had a good afternoon in the end.” Dad slows down as they turn into their road, the car rising and falling as they drive over a speed hump.

“Yeah.” Nathan watches as the streetlights turn on, cutting through the twilight with fuzzy yellow brightness. “It was alright.”

“There’ll be another one next month. A practice session for the tests you’ll do when you're older. Perhaps you’d like to go.”

Nathan knows Dad isn’t really asking. He does this, says things like questions when he’s already made up his mind. He smothers a sigh, gravel crunching beneath the tyres as they pull onto the driveway.

“It’ll be at the Savea family’s place. I saw you with their boys. Jonnie’s alright, not as powerful as you’ll be, but powerful enough. Doesn’t look like Will has a Gift at all, not worth your time.”

The rumble of the engine cuts out. Dad clambers out of the car, trudging across the gravel to open their front door.

Nathan scrambles after him, heart lifting at the thought of seeing Will again, the memory of the butterfly perched on his finger still fresh in his mind.