A bus had dropped us in one of the older, more ramshackle areas of Gloucester. The streets were cobbled, not paved, and the houses that edged them leaned in to one another as though vying for space. Soon buildings loomed up on either side, several stories tall, so alien compared to the sprawling countryside of the farm. The only vegetation around was the occasional roadside tree, or a tangle of ivy creeping up walls to devour brick faces. Andrew was taking it all in rather dubiously.
“I don’t know if I like this,” he muttered to me, fiddling with his haversack again. “It seems as though…as though…” He trailed off, shoving his hands into his pockets and glaring at the path.
I could see what he was trying to say. With all the windows gleaming in the filtered sunlight like glassy eyes, the shabby roofs blocking out the horizon, and streetlamps papered with week-old pamphlets crying out for readers to join the war effort, it was a bit oppressive.
“Oh.” Demitra stopped so suddenly I nearly bumped into her. “I forgot to mention. You can’t stay with us.” A small finger appeared from under her shawl and pointed at Andrew.
“What? I can’t leave Evelyn with… Why not?” he stuttered.
“Because I’m not a hotel, crippled boy,” she said, with a sideways smirk at his bad leg. “However, the same can’t be said for that building over there. Relatively cheap, so I’ve heard, but it’ll do.”
“I have no money.” Andrew’s face was growing paler by the second. “Not enough to last for very long, anyway.”
“Not my problem.”
I flinched at the callousness in her tone. Balling my fists, I said, “It is your problem. He’s my friend, and I won’t abandon him. If you think—”
“Oh, spare me.” Demitra waved her hand dismissively. “Fine. He can stay with us too. But first of all, you and I need a little tête-à-tête, so he’ll have to occupy himself for a while.”
Andrew glanced at me as though I was going to argue about this too, and seemed disappointed when I said nothing. As long as he wasn’t being cast out altogether, I didn’t see anything wrong with speaking to Demitra alone; there were some things he didn’t—couldn’t—understand, and I couldn’t picture Demitra taking the time to explain everything to him too.
“I’ll go…for a walk.” Andrew sighed. “But if I don’t hear anything in an hour…”
“Then you’ll have to continue walking.” Demitra tapped her heels together, impatient. “You don’t make the rules here. I do.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, wishing I believed it.
Demitra watched him go with a smile. It wasn’t a very nice smile, however, and half of me—no, more than half—considered running right after him. Perhaps this had all been a terrible, terrible mistake.
“Don’t look so upset,” Demitra told me, setting off again down a side street. “Don’t you want to see your friends again?”
Of course I did. Her words brought the same shivers that Deio’s had, and yet…did I trust her? The obvious answer was no.
It turned out that her flat was above a former fish and chip shop. We went into the main entrance of the shop, assaulted at once by the overwhelming stench of grease. A little bell tinkled innocently as the door swung shut.
“Miss Farthing?” A man popped his head up from behind the counter. He had a wet rag in his hands and an alarming amount of dust on his face. “Your brother just came in a few minutes ago. Oh, who’s the friend?”
“This is Evelyn.” Demitra smiled at me, this time a remarkably genuine one that people usually reserved for their best friends. “She’s from London, so with the bombs and all… You don’t mind, do you, Mr Hamilton?”
“Course not, love. You’re not the type to bring in riff-raff.” Mr Hamilton beamed, exposing rows of yellow teeth. “Do me a favour, and tell your brother he had someone looking for him the other day. I forgot to tell you.”
“Did they leave a name?”
“Yeah. Farrington or something, it was.”
Demitra’s sickly sweet smile didn’t falter. “Okay.”
The second she turned her back to him, I watched it drop into a scowl.
To the back of the shop, a small door opened to reveal a steep staircase leading upwards into the flat. A musty smell overpowered the grease smell the higher we went, until I was gasping for air from this century. My arms ached from hauling my suitcase, which although small seemed to grow heavier and heavier. Finally, through another door at the top, we emerged into the flat.
I felt at once at home. Intricate, panelled wood covered every wall, stained a dark brown and covered with carvings. A fireplace containing still-smouldering wood stood at one side, opposite sash windows that looked out upon the street below, and, sandwiched between, bookcases containing volume upon volume of books and folders. The flat was void of decorative furniture and trinkets, with not a picture in sight; even the lamp, hanging from the beautifully moulded ceiling rose, was startlingly common. A shabby, rose-print settee and dilapidated occasional table were the only pieces. There was a small kitchen, almost too small to be functional, made up of a few slabs of wood over the top a couple of stained cabinets.
“Bedroom is over there,” she gestured blandly to one side. “You’ll have the settee. Andrew can…well, if he insists on staying, he can have the floor. We don’t have a bathroom, so if you need to go, you’ll have to go downstairs to the shop. No amenities, you see. Deio!”
I jumped as the familiar figure materialized from behind the fireplace.
“Evelyn.” He offered a hand, which I pretended not to notice. “Nice to see you again. Unfortunately, I shall have to be a bad host and rush off again, but duty calls.”
“Where?” Demitra frowned. “You know Madon was here a few days ago?”
“Brighton,” Deio replied, and I saw immediate recognition flicker in his sister’s face. “Shouldn’t take long. And no, I didn’t know that. Probably angry at been made a fool of again.”
Their eyes both flickered to me, then back to each other.
“It isn’t too hard,” she muttered dryly. “Be careful, okay? Don’t go closer to London than you have to, and be back in time to help me with you-know-what.”
I was a bit taken-aback by the amount concern in her tone—genuine sibling concern.
“I will. And you be careful too.” He turned and grabbed something from the behind the bookshelves. For a confused moment I thought I saw him slide a gun into a pocket. “Be civil. Enjoy your stay, Evelyn!”
I murmured something unintelligible, which only made them both smirk. With one last flourish as he pulled on a thin jacket, he was gone.
Demitra stood perfectly still for a moment, still frowning, then shrugged and sat down upon the settee before patting the area beside her as an afterthought. Dropping my suitcase, I obliged, ducking out of the way as she whipped off her shawl and dumped it almost on my lap.
“I suppose you want an explanation,” she remarked dully, still staring out the door. “I can give you a limited one without breaking the rules, on the one condition you don’t interrupt. What do you already know about Boundary, then, just so I don’t repeat and waste time?”
“Um.” I racked my brains. “Not much, to be honest. It was different, inside, people could do things that aren’t possible out here—Madon could torture us at will, and disappear into thin air. Beatrix could use her powers for domestic chores. Penny could Rip too, move from one place to another, and you…you could speak in our minds.”
Demitra finally wrenched her gaze from the door. I noticed her clothing beneath the shawl was surprisingly girlish and ordinary.
“Then there was the Boundary itself. It used to shock us if we touched it, but during the trials it only pulled us through to this kind of alternate place…towards the end, it was shrinking.” My throat was dry, and the words were coming out very choppy
“Layers.” She propped her feet on the table in front of us.
I stared, wondering if she was insane.
“The world is built in layers. In this layer, we’re sitting in a flat over a chip shop, but in another layer this might be open fields. In one layer, there is the Boundary you know, but in this layer, it is simply woodland.” Demitra spoke in monotone, as if reciting a speech she had presented many, many times. “Some practised people can manipulate these layers—some can even travel between them, or open spaces in gaps between layers or levels. You called these movements Rips.”
I nodded slowly, not quite comprehending.
“Dear Lord,” Demitra snapped, making me jump. She rose and walked to the window, then spun around. “Come over here. You look like a pre-schooler being briefed in quantum physics.”
I blushed furiously, not knowing what she meant. Realizing it wasn’t a compliment, I shuffled over to the window to her.
She unhooked a brooch from her dress exposing the sharp pin. “Pretend the glass represents a layer.” Demitra frowned. “Got it?” she asked patronizingly.
I nodded again, but before I had time to question anything, there was a small Rip, and she had pushed the pin through the glass so that it went straight through to the other side without causing more than the tiniest crack.
“This is what it looks like when someone practised creates a Rip. No damage, very precise.”
That made sense, at least. When Madon had used his powers, it had been so smooth and effortless, like a second nature.
I jumped as Demitra slammed her fist now against the glass, throwing all her strength behind it until spider-webbed tendrils began snaking over the fragile surface.
“This is what Penny is doing right now,” she told me, continuing to pound the window. “Penny has great strength, but has no idea what she’s doing at all. She’s been trying to force Boundary open herself, but is only succeeding in creating damage like this.”
I watched, transfixed, as the thin lines thickened and cracks spread to the corner of the window.
“There are things living in other levels. Fantastic, terrible things that we as humans cannot comprehend. As Penny weakens the barrier between the layers, they are slowly seeping through, and if we don’t stop her, the barrier may be completely destroyed.”
“Wait…Penny is doing this?” I frowned in surprise. “To the whole world?”
“Right now, it might just be affecting the West Country,” Demitra admitted. “But watch how the cracks are spreading all over the window—before long, the damage will be spreading just as rapidly. There is only one barrier per layer and once it’s gone, it’s gone… This is why we tried to get Penny out before she started causing damage like this. If she was standing here instead of you, we wouldn’t be in this situation, since none of you lot had this kind of strength.”
The window finally lost its battle and shattered. We both leapt backwards to avoid the shower of shimmering glass, staring for a few heartbeats at the shards and splinters scattered across the hardwood floor.
So perhaps if Demitra and Deio’s plan had worked, and Penny had escaped Boundary, they would have prevented her from tampering with the barriers and we would have been stuck there forever. Now, because of Madon’s success at foiling this plan, everyone needed rescuing.
“But…if we split Boundary…won’t that create more damage?” I asked, trying desperately to comprehend.
“Remember the pin,” Demitra reminded me, crouching down and letting the sparkling shards of glass run over her hands. “I know what I’m doing, and hopefully, you will too.”
She stood up suddenly, wiping a trickle of blood onto her skirt from where glass had sliced her finger.
I watched numbly, cogs turning in my brain as I fought to understand. Demitra and Deio had figured out that only Penny was capable of such damage, so that was why they’d favoured her. Madon saw it differently; Penny had been powerful, and wouldn’t have stopped until she’d freed us. Once she had escaped, that is. Now, somehow, the twins thought I would be able to help them stop her before all hell broke loose.
“You’re mistaken,” I stammered. “I can’t help you. I want my friends back more than anything, but…we tried back in Boundary. I’m completely ordinary.”
Demitra didn’t seem worried by my admission. “Then tell me, why do you think you and the other five were in Boundary in the first place? Because you were all ordinary? Do you think Deio and I are risking our necks to interfere in the lives of six ordinaries? Do you think Madon killed his own mother to protect the interests of a group of ordinary children?”
I froze at the mention of Beatrix. “Protect us? She didn’t—”
“Don’t tell me what you think you know, Evelyn.” Demitra stood up with such force that I flinched. “You don’t know anything. You only know what we wanted you to, and that wasn’t necessarily the truth.”
“Then what is the truth?”
Demitra froze as if I’d reached out and grabbed her. For a moment, she almost looked confused, then that sickly smile returned. “I have something to show you.”