Alvaro cantered across the moonlit countryside to Grandpa Jacob’s farm, with Alex clinging tightly around his neck. He came to a stop by the destroyed olive grove, panting hard, and Alex alighted from his back. The smell of charred wood hung bitter and heavy in the air.
Nerves kicked around Alex’s stomach as she looked towards the bright, welcoming lights burning in the kitchen. She had momentarily forgotten about switching Grandpa Jacob’s pills. He had wanted to bundle her and Mum off to a motel, then plough into the forest — fractured foot and all — to try and stop Kiala on his own. At the time, Alex had thought she would do a better job. At the time, she had been positive she could figure everything out.
And, sure, some of it she had. But not all of it. Not enough.
And now she had to tell him she’d tricked him for nothing. The binding spell hadn’t worked. Moraika was dying. Mum wasn’t getting better. Alex couldn’t fathom how furious he was going to be, but she steeled herself. Moraika needed medicine. She was going to have to deal with whatever he threw at her.
‘I’ll wait in the barn,’ Alvaro said quietly. ‘Come and get me when you’re ready to leave.’
The kitchen was empty when Alex let herself inside. She walked quietly down the hall, stopping in the doorway to Mum’s room. Grandpa Jacob sat hunched over, his back to the door. He looked small, exhausted. In the bed, Mum was pale, her breathing laboured.
Alex bit her lip to stop from crying. It didn’t take a genius to see Mum was getting worse. She was running out of time.
Sensing someone behind him, Grandpa Jacob spun around. His face contorted into a series of different expressions that Alex couldn’t decipher. And then he heaved himself out of the chair and half-hopped, half-fell over the room, pulling Alex into a suffocating bear hug.
‘You’re okay,’ he said over and over, his voice raw and relieved.
For a moment, Alex was too shocked to do anything, but then she wrapped her arms around his broad back and clung on tight.
Later, he sat at the kitchen table and listened as Alex gave him the abbreviated version of the events from the forest. The secret garden, the elements, the tigers. Kiala appearing from the tree. The binding ritual that hadn’t worked.
When she told him about Moraika, he visibly paled and clutched at the edge of the table. Alex asked him about the medicine, if he thought it might work.
‘It’s worth a try,’ he said. ‘But I’ll have to make some more. I gave Elina the last of it.’
Alex’s heart sank. ‘How long will that take?’
‘A few hours.’
Alex just hoped Moraika could hang on that long.
Grandpa Jacob heaved himself from his chair and set about opening cupboards, collecting jars and bottles filled with some things Alex recognised and some she didn’t. ‘Why don’t you get some sleep?’ he said. ‘I’ll wake you when it’s ready.’
Sleep. The thought of falling into a dreamless slumber was heavenly. But Alex knew there was no way she could. Or would. ‘I’m not tired.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘I didn’t think I was tired last night, so imagine my surprise when I had the best night’s sleep I’d had in years.’
Alex cringed. ‘About that. I’m really sorry.’
He regarded Alex for a long moment, not saying anything. Then he sighed. ‘I’m the one who should be sorry.’
Alex frowned. ‘You should?’
‘I should have realised earlier how important you are. That it was you all along.’ He teetered on his moon boot, and flung it a disdainful look, muttering, ‘And I certainly wouldn’t be hobbling around with this cursed fractured foot if I’d known the truth about who you were.’
Alex blinked, then stared at her grandfather, incredulous. ‘Are you saying you fractured your foot on purpose to try and get Wilfred to come and spend the summer here?’
His cheeks reddened and he looked away, suddenly very busy examining labels on jars.
Alex couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing.
Grandpa Jacob gave her a sharp look. ‘It’s not exactly a laughing matter.’
‘I know, I know …’ She realised it wasn’t funny funny, but she couldn’t stop. The lengths that he had gone to seemed … well, it seemed like something just absurd and stupid enough for Alex to have tried herself. ‘How did you do it?’ she said between giggles.
He didn’t say anything for a few moments, and then he mumbled, ‘I dropped a crate of apples on it.’
This sent Alex into fresh peals of laughter.
His features softened. He started to chuckle and shook his head. ‘Possibly the most stupid thing I’ve ever done,’ he said. Then he looked down the hallway, towards the bedroom where Mum was sleeping. His shoulders slumped. ‘Maybe the second most stupid.’
Alex took a moment to wipe away the tears of laughter. ‘Why did you stop seeing Mum?’
He took a heavy breath and let it out, long and slow. ‘I suppose it was after Wilfred was born. My whole life, I’d thought my first grandson was destined to stop Kiala. To save the world. So when he came along, nothing else mattered anymore. I knew what I had to do. While Rosa was alive it didn’t matter so much. Rosa was the glue. She kept us together. Made sure we spoke on the phone. Made sure Elina came to visit. But after Rosa was gone …’ He shrugged helplessly. ‘I lost track of time, I suppose. And then one day you wake up and realise you haven’t spoken to your only daughter for ten years.’ He hung his head, shaking it slowly. ‘If I’d only known how wrong I was …’
‘If you’d known it was me all along then it would have been Mum and me invited here every summer?’ Alex asked gently. ‘You would have ignored Wilfred and Uncle Neil?’
Grandpa Jacob didn’t answer for a long moment. ‘I wish I could say no, but …’ He sighed again. ‘I’m not proud of how I’ve behaved. It was idiotic. I was just so blinded by what I thought my purpose was that I forgot about what’s actually important.’ He huffed out a breath and looked again towards the spare room. ‘All I can do is hope that she’ll forgive me.’
‘She will,’ Alex said. And she knew she was right.
‘Maybe.’ Grandpa Jacob gave Alex a small, sad smile. ‘But she needs to wake up first.’