The human girl stayed close to Tristan as he led them out of the tunnel. Susanna watched them, noticing the tight grip she had on his hand, the quick, discreet glances she kept shooting back at her. Behind her, Jack tripped along. It wasn’t like him to be so quiet, to let someone else take charge. It probably wouldn’t last very long.
The lashing rain had stopped. Now the sky hung low and angry. Susanna glanced up at it as they stepped out from beneath the arched opening to the tunnel – and promptly walked straight into the broad strength of Tristan’s back.
“Oof! Sorry,” she mumbled, bouncing back unsteadily into the path of Jack, who shifted to avoid her rather than catch her. Instead, it was Tristan who shot out an arm to prevent her falling. His grip was strong, the heat of his hand soaking through the damp woollen fabric of the cardigan she wore.
It was the first time he’d ever touched her.
Though they’d known each other for centuries, he’d never, ever touched her.
If the same thought occurred to Tristan, she couldn’t read it in his eyes. Or his face. Whatever he was thinking or feeling about discovering her here, in the real world, with him, was completely hidden.
When he was sure she had her balance, he let her go.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
Mutely, she nodded. Opened her mouth, then closed it again. What to say? Every moment, every late-night encounter they’d shared, gazing out at the wasteland, or up at the stars, watching the wraiths gather, had been shared in silence. There had been no need for words.
She needed words now. “Yes, thank you.”
“Tristan.” The girl standing beside Tristan was still clinging to him like a limpet. Something passed between them and Tristan turned back to Susanna.
“This is Dylan,” he told Susanna. “She is—”
“The soul you used to cross over,” Susanna finished for him. “I know, I saw.”
“I didn’t use her,” Tristan scowled. “We did it together.”
“So you’re a ferryman too – like him?” Dylan chipped in.
“Dylan,” Tristan said. “This is Susanna. Yes, she’s another ferryman.” Tristan’s eyes flicked over to Jack and then back to Susanna, one eyebrow raised in a silent question.
“This is Jack,” Susanna offered.
“Hi.” Dylan offered him a tentative smile and Jack gave her a brief chin jerk in response. His eyes were watchful, wary, and mostly focussed on Tristan.
Tristan dismissed Jack with the tiniest shrug of one shoulder and then turned back to Susanna, piercing her. “What are you doing here?”
Susanna startled, shocked by the question, though she supposed she should have expected it.
I came to be with you.
The words were on the tip of her tongue, but they wouldn’t come out. This wasn’t going at all like she planned. In her mind, Tristan was thrilled to see her, hugging her and smiling. He wanted to take her under his wing, show her this new world where they could actually live; where they could actually have a life.
Instead, she could feel the disapproval – disappointment? – rolling off Tristan in waves. And the frostiness from his soul was palpable. Susanna chewed on her lip.
It was Jack who answered.
“We’re stuck together,” he said, speaking fast. “Since we came back through, we can’t go more than ten metres from each other. Susanna said you’d know how to fix it.” He stared hard at Tristan. “Do you?”
“No.” Tristan shook his head. “The same thing happened to us. Every time we separate, it’s like Dylan’s dying all over again. Only this time, I feel it too.”
“You haven’t figured out how to cut it?” Jack’s temper was rising.
“No,” Tristan repeated, eyes narrowing on Jack, “I haven’t.”
Susanna’s nerves skittered to life at the power, the menace, in Tristan’s tone. But in typical Jack style, he either didn’t notice it, or blithely ignored it. He rounded on Susanna.
“You told me!” he snapped. “You told me he’d be able to help! But that was just another lie. You don’t have a clue, do you?” Jack was getting into full rant mode, but this time, Susanna didn’t feel scared. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tristan take his hand from Dylan’s and shift his body weight. Still, Jack went on. “Well, you know what? You’re the one who doesn’t belong here! If I just get rid of you—”
Whatever threat Jack had been about to deliver was silenced as Tristan grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and propelled him backwards until his shoulders smacked off the stone edge of the cliff beside the tunnel mouth.
“Stop,” he snarled. “Not another word.”
“Get off me!” Jack tried to fight, to rip Tristan’s grip from his jacket, but he couldn’t. “Get your bloody hands off me!”
“You should be dead,” Tristan hissed. “Do you get that? You should be dead. And if you were really lucky you’d be across the wasteland by now. If not, you’d be one of the wraiths. Did you see them in the wasteland? Do you know what they are? They’re souls who were too stupid to keep their traps shut and do what they were told.” Pulling back, Tristan let go of Jack’s jacket.
To Susanna’s astonishment, Jack stayed exactly where he was. Even more shockingly, he stayed silent.
“You’d be a wraith, I reckon,” Tristan went on. “You’ve got that look about you. You think you know best, but guess what? In the wasteland, we know best. You’re not dead, are you?” He waited until Jack gave a tiny shake of his head. “Be grateful, then. Got it?”
Without waiting for an answer, Tristan turned his back on Jack. When Jack didn’t react, didn’t move a muscle, Susanna released the breath she’d been holding. She watched as Tristan went straight back to his soul and enfolded her in his arms.
“We don’t know how to break the soul bond, Susanna,” he said, “but the Inquisitor might.”
“The Inquisitor?” she managed to ask. “Who the hell is that?”
“It’s the reason we’re here,” Tristan replied. “It’s from the wasteland. Two days ago it cornered us, told me it was going to pass judgement on me. It’s got powers, strong ones. It had me frozen in place. I couldn’t move, couldn’t even speak unless it let me.” At that, Susanna felt icy dread grip her own gut. Anything that frightened Tristan was something to be terrified of. “It made a deal with us, told me that if we want to stay we need to undo the damage we caused crossing over. Close the hole, kill the wraith that came through.” Tristan paused. “That’s how you came through, right? You saw me go – and followed me?”
No. That was the truthful answer. No, Susanna had found a soul and convinced him to fall back into his dead body and – according to Tristan – ripped her own hole in the veil between the wasteland and the real world.
Which meant an Inquisitor thing might be hunting for her now, too.
She needed to tell Tristan. Tell him and ask for his help. He’d closed theirs; he could close hers too, or at least tell her how it was done. Susanna opened her mouth to confess, but she couldn’t do it. It just wouldn’t come out.
She didn’t want to be a burden to Tristan. She didn’t want to admit to the deceit, the manipulation she’d had to do to convince a soul to take her back. If Tristan believed she’d merely followed him through, taken the soul she had with her at the time…
That didn’t seem so bad.
That didn’t seem so devious.
Glancing back, she saw Jack was ignoring them, staring off across the countryside, fuming. Seething over his damaged pride. She turned back, gave Tristan her most winning smile, the one she reserved for the trickiest of souls.
“Yes,” she lied. “I saw you go and followed.” She took a deep breath. “I wanted a chance at life too – and so did Jack of course. He was too young to go.”
Tristan nodded – his face hard to read again.
“You said you had to kill a wraith,” Susanna continued. “That wraith?” She pointed back into the tunnel.
“No,” Dylan spoke up this time. “We think there might be more, because the gap has been open a while. One of them murdered four men in the train tunnel days ago. We saw it on the news.”
“But,” Susanna shook her head. “They could be anywhere by now. How on earth are you meant to find them?”
“We will,” Tristan said, squeezing Dylan, who had paled considerably. “We will because we have to. I can sense them if we get close, so we just have to figure out where to look.”
“Why?” Jack asked, daring to step back into the circle, although he deliberately kept his distance from Tristan. “What happens if you don’t?”
Dylan’s words were soft, haunted. “The Inquisitor will kill us both.”
Dylan’s words hit Susanna as a punch to the stomach. What had she done? Followed Tristan to the same awful fate, and doomed Jack’s life too, in the process. She couldn’t tell them the truth now – but she could learn from Tristan. And save his life in the process.
“We’ll help you,” she stuttered. “Come with us – we’ve got a car. We’ll find your wraiths and kill them together.”