like my picture?” Liyana held it up, hiding her face behind the page.
Her mummy glanced at it. “Colour inside the lines, Ana,” she said. “You’re not a baby anymore.”
Scarlet
Scarlet stared into the flames. She stood as close as she could to the fire, closer than anyone else, her gloveless hands clutching the protection rail, glowing in the firelight. She wished Bonfire Night was celebrated every day, instead of once a year. She wished her mother would light fires in their fireplace at home; she wished she was allowed to do it alone. Sometimes Scarlet found herself gazing into the empty grate, conjuring imaginary flames. Sometimes she did this so well she could feel their heat on her cheeks.
For a moment Scarlet pulled her gaze from the bonfire to her mother standing behind her. There she was, gazing intently into the fire. But, strangely, Scarlet also felt as if she weren’t there, as if she’d wandered off to find toffee apples, perhaps. The chance to watch her mother like this, unseen, to stare as long as she wanted, was rare. So she did. And as she did, Scarlet wished she could tether Ruby to the ground, to stop her taking flight.
Finally, Scarlet took a step back and reached up to slip her bare hand into her mother’s gloved one. When their fingers touched, Ruby flinched. She glanced down, frowning as if she’d thought she was alone, as if she’d forgotten her daughter was there, as if she’d forgotten she had a daughter at all.
Bea
“You flew again?” Liyana asked. “Higher than the first time?”
Bea nodded. “Above the trees, into the clouds.”
“Are you sure?” Liyana asked. “You didn’t imagine it?”
Bea scowled at the impertinent question, not dignifying it with an answer.
“But how?” Liyana persisted. “How did you do it?”
Bea shrugged. “Flying here is simple. You just have to want it enough, et voilà.” All at once she’s hovering above the ground, grinning down at us.
“You’re so lucky.” Liyana sighed, gazing up at her elevated sister. “Can you teach me?”
“I told you,” Bea said. “This place is created from thoughts, from . . . bright-white wishing, from black-edged desire. All you have to do is want to fly, and you will.”
Liyana’s frown deepened, as did Bea’s smile.
“We’re here to discover how powerful we are,” she said, rising higher. “And, once we’re able to do anything we want—in this world and the other—then we get to choose.”
Liyana tipped her head back to stare up at Bea, though she could now only see the soles of her shoes.
“Choose what?” Scarlet said, stepping forward into the clearing, her own feet bare on the moss.
Bea’s laughter tumbled down, as if she’d just emptied a bucket of water onto their heads. She rose higher still and, when she spoke again, they strained to hear, only catching occasional words they couldn’t string into comprehensible sentences.
Though she delighted in teasing her sisters, Bea looked forward to seeing them. Every morning and afternoon she ticked each dreary daylight hour off on her fingertips, and she never fought bedtime. Sometimes she’d even fall asleep before seven, in order to visit Everwhere all the sooner. But, in addition to seeing her sisters, Bea loved Everwhere because here she felt her father more vividly than anywhere else. Here was the only place she didn’t miss him, for his imprint was on every falling leaf, every drop of rain, every gust of wind. Sometimes Bea felt him watching her. Sometimes she whispered to him; sometimes he whispered back.
Sometimes Bea guiltily wished that she didn’t have sisters, that she was the only daughter for her absent father to love.
Leo
“Leave him alone!”
“Oh, yeah? And what are you going to do about it, Penury-Holmes?”
Instead of answering, Leo strode up to the captain of the rugby team, who was pinning Christopher up against the school gates, and kicked him hard in the shin.
“You little shit!” Henry Sykes shouted, dropping his grip on Christopher to clutch his leg. “You’re dead for this! You’re fucking dead!”
Leo seized Christopher’s hand and pulled him up, while expletives from Sykes’s undiminished rant scorched the air.
“You’re insane, Sykes,” Christopher said, rubbing his neck. “I heard you once bit the head off a rat.”
Now Leo reapproached Sykes, grinning. He wasn’t scared, he realized, not remotely. And the feeling, the complete absence of fear, was electrifying. He didn’t care what happened next, didn’t give a fuck. The thrill of fearlessness pulsed through him and, by the time he reached Sykes, Leo’s eyes were wide with it.