Beneath (12 page)

It would be like being only half alive.

Finn let two more days pass before he forced himself to leave. He had thought about simply going without telling anyone, but that seemed poor payment for their kindness. He told them as they sat at breakfast, then went to gather his things together, while Ian, Martha and Jess went to see to the animals.

He could hear some sort of commotion going on downstairs, but he ignored it, anxious now to be on his way, until Ashe’s voice caught his attention.

“Magnus only left a couple of days ago. Why is he back so soon?”

Finn heard a girl’s voice replying.

“Because I couldn’t come before and I wanted to see Jess. Go and fetch her out of the smokehouse or wherever she is, please, Ashe. I’ll wait upstairs for her.”

“Won’t Magnus fetch her?”

“He’s seeing to the horse first. That’s too long to wait. I haven’t seen her in ages. Please?”

“All right.”

Light footsteps ran up the stairs, and the door opened.

Finn froze, appalled. It was Freya.

The girl didn’t see him at first; he was standing at the head of the bed by the pack he’d so recently strapped up. She came in, humming under her breath, and crossed to the window.

Jess had said Freya didn’t remember anything about him or the Nykur world, but what if she was wrong? Could he sneak out past her and make a run for it?

At that moment, the girl turned round and gasped.

“What a fright! What are you doing, sneaking up like that?”

“I… I wasn’t…” Finn stammered.

Freya put a hand to her mouth.

“Oh no – I forgot. You’ve had Jess’s room, haven’t you? I’m Freya, Jess’s friend.” She eyed the pack by his hand. “I see I’ve only just come in time to meet you.”

The question of whether she remembered him seemed to be settled.

“Where are you heading? We came in the cart; we could take you as far as Kirriemuir if that’s the way you’re going. Of course, you’d have to wait until later.” She stopped and smiled. “I’m talking too much. I haven’t spoken to anyone but Magnus and my father for days. There – I’ll be quiet now and you can say something.”

She waited.

He was very good looking, Freya thought. Too thin though; but then, he’d been ill.

She waited. Was he shy, or just stupid?

“Jess often talks about you. She’ll be pleased to see you.” His hand went to his neck, and she noticed a fine scar like a red silk thread encircling it. Something about it nagged at her memory.

“I’d better go,” he was saying. He seemed nervous. He picked up the pack and started for the door.

“I’ll come down with you,” Freya said.

He touched the scar on his throat again. She wondered why he kept doing that.

In silence, they came out of Jess’s room. Finn stood back to let Freya go down the stairs first. At the bottom, he turned to the right, intending to go straight out of the front door, desperate to be away from Freya.

“Surely you’re going to say goodbye?”

He stopped reluctantly and turned to face her again.

“I already did that. I’m just going to go now. I don’t want a fuss.”

At that moment the back door was pushed violently open and Jess shot in, looking apprehensive. She glanced from Freya to Finn beyond her, read their expressions and relaxed a little.

Freya ran forward to hug her.

“You’re just in time. Your guest is trying to sneak off without saying goodbye.”

Jess looked helplessly at Finn over Freya’s shoulder.

“I’m leaving now. I have to,” he said.

Jess detached herself from Freya and went across to where Finn stood, trying to think of something she could say in front of Freya that would convey what she felt, whatever that was.

And Freya looked at the two of them standing there together as Finn touched the scar on his neck again.

And she remembered.

Freya remembered. Fragments, like pieces of a dream…

Finn clutching his throat as though it pained him… a dark haired girl smiling at her… water rushing around her, filling her mouth and nose, eyes and ears… a black horse in a bramble patch.

She shook her head, realised she had made some sort of sound. Finn and Jess stared at her.

Freya raised a finger and pointed shakily at Finn.

“I know you. I remember you. I… was with you.”

She saw the colour leave his face.

“Freya?” Jess stepped forward. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“He was there. So were you. He took me somewhere.”

Jess fought down panic.

“You’ve only just met him,” she said desperately. “You should go, Finn. You need to be on your way.”

Like an automaton, he picked up the pack again.

“No!” Freya’s voice rose. “It was him.” She was backing away now.

“Go, Finn,” said Jess sharply.

“Freya, what is it?” Magnus had come in unnoticed, and was striding to Freya’s side.

“It’s him. When… when I was lost. I couldn’t remember, but now I do. He was there. He took me somewhere.”

Magnus’s gaze followed Freya’s pointing finger. He stared at Finn as though he was seeing him for the first time.

“Magnus, she doesn’t know what she’s saying.” Jess stepped in front of him. “Just go, Finn. I’ll sort this out.” She didn’t dare turn to look at him. “It’s a mistake, Magnus, that’s all.”

Magnus turned to Freya. “Are you sure it’s him?”

She nodded, wild-eyed. “Of course I’m sure.”

Magnus pushed Jess gently out of his path.

“Fetch your father,” he said as he went past her.

“Magnus, wait.”

He paid her no attention, but confronted Finn.

“Well? You heard what she said. Do you deny it?”

“Of course he denies it!” Jess yelled. “He hasn’t done anything.”

Finn said nothing.

For three or four seconds no one moved, then Magnus drew back his fist and felled Finn with a single blow.

Jess gasped and ran to where he lay.

“Freya,” said Magnus, “go and get Ian. Now.”

Freya looked blankly at him for a few seconds, then turned and ran.

Magnus glanced down at Jess as she tried to rouse the unconscious Finn.

“What’s going on, Jess?” he asked.

She looked at him pleadingly.

“Let him go, Magnus, please. He hasn’t done anything.”

“How can you know that? Freya says he has. Why would you believe him instead of her?”

“What’s happening down here?” A new voice, sharp: Ellen coming down from her room, disturbed by the shouting. She came far enough to take in the scene in the hallway and stopped.

“What’s happened to the boy? Jess? Magnus? What’s going on?”

Before either of them could answer, the back door crashed open and Ian burst in, Martha following, her arm round the whey-faced Freya.

“Did he try to get away? Does he deny it? What has he said?” Ian demanded.

“He hasn’t said anything. He didn’t get the chance,” retorted Jess angrily.

“Why won’t you believe what I’m saying, Jess?” Freya asked, coming forward.

“You… you said you couldn’t remember anything about
what had happened.”

“I couldn’t before, but once I saw him…”

“What do you remember now?”

Freya frowned, concentrating.

“Bits and pieces. Him.” She pointed to Finn. “That mark on his neck. That’s what made me remember. There was a girl with dark hair. She was kind to me. And there was a black horse somewhere.”

Jess could almost feel Ellen’s gaze burning into her skull. She avoided looking at her grandmother.

“But where were you, Freya?” she asked. “I found you in the forest, don’t you remember?”

She watched Freya’s uncertain face, hating herself for what she was doing to her friend.

Martha put her arm round Freya again.

“We can’t decide anything like this,” she said. “Ian, Magnus, carry Finn down to the cellar and lock him in. After that, Ian, you go to Kirriemuir and fetch Arnor.”

“He’s not there,” said Magnus. “He set off for Forfar with Lachlan when we left to come here. They were going to stay the night with Lachlan’s family.”

“Even if I leave now, I won’t get back from Forfar before nightfall,” Ian said, frowning. “I’ll have to stay the night there and come back with Arnor first thing tomorrow.”

“Freya,” Martha said, “Come and sit down with me and give yourself time to think properly. See if you can remember anything else.”

“Jess, take a lamp down to the cellar,” her father said.

Mind in a whirl, she did so. Ian and Magnus carried Finn down the steep stairs and laid him on the floor.

Jess watched her father lock the cellar door and put the key back on its hook, then say a distracted goodbye to Martha before setting off for Forfar.

What could she do? What could she do? She had never felt so helpless in her life.

She was staring blankly out of the back door towards the stables when an iron grip closed on her arm.

“We need to talk now,” said Ellen. “Your father suspects what Finn really is. If Freya remembers any more, your parents are going to realise what they’ve been nursing in their own house.”

“Maybe not,” Jess said, more in hope than expectation. “Freya doesn’t remember much. If she doesn’t remember any more, maybe I can convince everyone she’s wrong.”

“Let’s hope you’re right. But what if the opposite happens, and she remembers
everything
? They will realise you knew what Finn was when they took him in.”

Jess tried not to imagine her father’s reaction if he found out. But that wasn’t her biggest concern.

“Gran, what will they do to him if they find out everything?”

Ellen was silent.

“I have to get him out of here.”

“Have some sense!” her grandmother snapped. “How could you possibly explain it to your family, to Freya, if you did that? And anyway, why would you risk so much for him?” She stared at Jess through narrowed eyes. “Has
he
enchanted
you
this time?”

“No. Don’t be ridiculous,” Jess said, trying to ignore the flush she could feel creeping up her throat. “But don’t you think enough bad things have happened to him already?”

Ellen didn’t answer.

“Surely you don’t think he deserves to die?” Jess continued.

Ellen gave a weary sigh.

“Nothing will happen to the boy until Arnor gets here. Before he does, we need to know exactly what Freya remembers. Go and make some tea and take it in to them.”

Jess took camomile tea into the sitting room where her mother and Freya sat side by side. Freya was absently chewing a thumbnail, evidently still trying to remember.

Jess gave her what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

“Have you remembered any more?” she asked, trying to look encouraging, while inwardly willing Freya’s memory to
fail her.

Freya shook her head.

“I don’t know. It’s all so confused. Just jumbled glimpses of things that don’t go together and don’t make sense.”

The next few hours passed like one of those nightmares where time slows down and walking is like wading through treacle. A meal appeared at some point, and everyone gathered in the kitchen and ate, mostly in edgy silence. All the time Jess ached to know what was happening in the cellar.

When they had finished, Jess ladled soup into a bowl and put it on a tray to take down to Finn with some bread and cheese. Magnus got up to go with her.

“It’s all right,” she said. “I can manage.”

“You’re not going down there alone,” Magnus said.

“Why not? He won’t do anything to me.”

“You don’t know that. I’m coming with you.”

Jess bit back a retort, realising she wouldn’t change his mind.

Magnus unlocked the door and went down the stairs to the cellar with a lamp, a couple of steps in front of Jess with the tray.

Finn sat hunched against the wall on the opposite side of the cellar. He watched them come down the steps.

“I brought you some food,” Jess said. It was so cold that she could see her breath hanging in the air.

“Thank you,” he said.

In the lamplight, Jess could see the bruise on his jaw where Magnus had hit him, as she crossed to where he sat.

She put the tray down and stood there looking at him, desperate to speak to him privately, willing him to look at her properly so that he would see that, but he wouldn’t look up.

“I’ll bring you some blankets,” she said.

“I’ll wait here while you get them,” Magnus said.

Jess was about to protest, then thought better of it, though she didn’t want to leave the two of them alone together.

She went quickly up to her room. Keeping an ear open in
case anyone came in unexpectedly, she scrawled a note.

I’ll be back when everyone’s asleep.

Don’t worry – I’ll get you out of here.

She folded it up small, and rolled it up in the middle of a couple of blankets.

“What have you done to her?” Magnus asked Finn in a voice he was carefully controlling.

“I didn’t hurt her, I swear. Has she remembered anything yet?”

“I’m not talking about Freya. I’m talking about Jess.”

Finn grew very still.

“What have you done to her that she would take your side against her best friend, against her family? I know you must have had a lot of time alone with her. She’s got a good heart. Did you play on her sympathy, pretend to be more ill than you were? Is that how you’ve wormed your way into her heart? I’ve seen how she looks at you. How did you make her think she loves you?”

“I didn’t… she doesn’t!” said Finn, trying to salvage the situation for Jess. “You know I was about to leave. I don’t mean her any harm. I don’t mean any of you any harm.”

“It’s a bit late to be saying that, don’t you think? We’ll see what Arnor says, but I don’t think you should be expecting to walk up these steps again.”

When Jess got back to the cellar, neither Finn nor Magnus seemed to have moved. She put the blankets down beside Finn and went back upstairs without trying to talk to him again, Magnus close behind her. She managed not to look back as she heard the key turning and the click as Magnus put it back on its hook.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur and Jess was
relieved to head up to bed with Freya. She said goodnight, then lay wide-eyed in the darkness waiting until it was safe to go to Finn.

Jess woke with a start, horrified to find that she had slept. She wanted to leap straight out of bed and run down to the cellar, but she forced herself to lie still.

The bar of moonlight that came through the crack in the shutters had moved almost halfway across the room, so she must have slept for at least a couple of hours. From the sound of Freya’s breathing, she was fast asleep.

Jess slid out of bed, reaching for a shawl to tie round her shoulders. Stepping around the creaky floorboards, she eased the door open and listened. Nothing. She crept down the stairs.

She went to the kitchen first, to light a candle. It would be pitch dark in the cellar; she wanted to be able to see Finn.

At the cellar door Jess stopped to listen again, but the house slept quietly around her. She took down the key. If anyone found her now, there could be no pretending. She went in and pulled the door closed behind her. The light from the candle didn’t quite reach the bottom of the stairs.

“Finn?” she whispered loudly. “It’s me.”

There was some sort of movement from below, but no reply. Perhaps he was asleep. She went on down the stairs.

When she reached the bottom step she saw him sitting where he had been before, the blankets bundled round him.

“You shouldn’t be down here,” he said softly. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“That doesn’t matter. Come on.” She held a hand out to him. “This is your chance to get away. If you’re here when Arnor arrives, I don’t know what will happen to you. You have to go now.”

“But if they find you helped me to escape…”

“My gran asked me earlier if you’d enchanted me. If the
worst comes to the worst, I’ll say that you did. Now come on. It’s freezing down here.”

He took her hand and she helped him stiffly to his feet.

“Bring the blanket – it’s freezing outside,” she told him.

“There’s no way I can thank you for this,” said Finn.

“Just don’t get caught,” Jess replied.

They crept up the cellar stairs and through the kitchen to the back door. Unlocked as usual, it opened noiselessly.

Jess and Finn looked at each other.

“I don’t know what to say,” Jess murmured.

“Just say goodbye.”

“Not like this.”

They stared into each other’s eyes.

“Please,” Jess said. “Please wait for me at the pool. I’ll get away somehow. Please. I might never see you again otherwise. Please.”

“No. You mustn’t. They’ll know it was you who helped me.”

“I don’t care! You have to wait – I’ll bring you some supplies. You need food, a knife, a tinderbox… it’s too risky to get them just now, but I’ll bring them tomorrow.” She tried to pretend that it wasn’t just an excuse.

“All right. I’ll wait until noon.”

“I’ll be there. Now go!” she said, and watched him disappear into the darkness.

Jess swallowed her porridge the next morning as if it were ashes. She didn’t suggest taking food down to Finn in the cellar, of course, and thankfully nor did anyone else.

As soon as possible, she sneaked upstairs for her jacket and a satchel and stuck her knife in a pocket. When she crept down again the kitchen was empty, and she grabbed some bread and cheese and a tinderbox, then went straight to the barn. She was in there for just long enough to reach down a threadbare old jacket of her father’s that had hung there for months.

She peered cautiously round the barn door. Luck was on
her side: no one was in sight. Without stopping to think, she went into the woods at a trot.

At first, Jess thought Finn hadn’t waited after all. She reached Roseroot Pool and stood in the open, expecting him to step out from between the trees, but there was no sign of him. She looked around. The bramble thicket at the eastern end was bare of leaves now, a bleak, thorny tangle.