“¿Mamá?” Bea stepped forward, lifting her little hand to Cleo’s pale cheek. “¿Que pasa?”
Her mamá didn’t reply, didn’t say anything for the duration of the visit. When Bea and her abuela left, Cleo didn’t say goodbye. This didn’t matter to Bea, nor the scrutiny of the nurses, the glassy-eyed watch of the other patients, or the screams echoing along the corridors. But the look in her mamá’s eyes lingered long after everything else had gone.
Leo
“Are you scared to be a soldier?” Christopher asked.
“No,” Leo said. “Are you?”
“Sometimes,” Christopher said. “I think you’ll be better at it than me.”
Leo, since he didn’t disagree, said nothing. He didn’t want to say that not only was he not scared, he was looking forward to it. He liked the idea of hunting, of fighting. A place he could vent his anger without getting punished. The thought of the killing disturbed him, so he didn’t think too much about that. But it was thrilling, this existence of another world. Other boys might talk excitedly into the night about Middle Earth, but that was make-believe. This was real. This was a great and glorious secret that only he and Christopher knew.
21st October
Eleven days . . .
3:33 a.m.—Leo
Leo stands on the cobbled pavement in front of King’s College and contemplates the chapel, its ancient stonework bleached by a waning moon that seems to lie cradled between the filigree turrets, as if being rocked to sleep. How Leo wishes he could sleep, if only to shut out this world for a little while.
He steps over to the low, cold stone wall and sits. He thinks of Goldie, then finds himself thinking of his first love, his brother, his best friend. Leo had been right. The night he’d finally killed the Grimm girl who’d murdered Christopher, he’d known it.
That night Leo had crept out of the flat, his parents sleeping in their respective rooms, to seek out the closest gate. Actually, not quite the closest: when he was home from school Leo didn’t use the nearest entrance to Everwhere but the most illustrious. He hurried past the plain gates of the Royal Hospital Chelsea, walking an extra fifteen minutes to the infinitely more remarkable gates of Cremorne Gardens. Leo had loved these gates—featuring four golden lion heads and flanked by three-dimensional pillars inlaid with sculpted roses and topped with ornate lamps—ever since he’d first found them while wandering the streets one night.
The gates were always locked, but the heavy chain padlock gave way when Leo pushed at precisely the right moment. That night she was the first Grimm girl he saw when he stepped through. She fought a good fight, singeing his eyebrows with a well-aimed fiery breath and fracturing his ankle, and would certainly have won against any other soldier. She was exceptional—she’d survived the Choosing, after all—and far older than him. But Leo had a singular advantage: he was fearless. He didn’t care if he lived or died. He wanted only vengeance.
It wasn’t until her final breath etched the tiny crescent moon on his arm that Leo realized who she’d been. For her breath carried the scent of his friend, as if she’d swallowed his sweat and blood, instead of extinguishing his spirit, and done so only an hour before, instead of two years ago. Leo had cried out as the mists engulfed the Grimm girl’s spirit and the ground soaked up her soul. He screamed to stop it, to seize hold of them both a moment longer. But the scent of Christopher had evaporated with her and with it any satisfaction of vengeance fulfilled. And Leo was left once more bereft, longing for his beloved brother as acutely as he had the night he’d died.
He feels it still.
Pushing Christopher and Goldie from his thoughts, Leo stands and, with one look back at the exquisite edifice of King’s College Chapel, walks away. By the time he’s reached the end of King’s Parade, they’ve returned.
7:59 a.m.—Liyana
As the Cambridge commuter train hurtles onwards towards King’s Cross, all Liyana can think of is Goldie. Her half-sister. Her white sister. Mazmo, the Slade, and even Kumiko are forgotten in the light of her. The shock of finally meeting this sister has even eclipsed the extraordinary events that led Liyana to Goldie in the first place. However, while the immediate past has faded into the background, the more distant past is starting to sharpen. Something once engulfed by mists and fog is beginning to come into view.