 
SOULMAKER

by Nadine Cooke

SOULMAKER

by Nadine Cooke

Copyright 2012 Nadine Cooke

Smashwords Edition

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### SOULMAKER

### Chapter 1

Ashden Jaybanks pushed the last thumbtack into the corner of the poster and stood back to consider his fate.

"You sure you want that up there?"

Ashden barely acknowledged the teacher who passed him, scowling.

"You bring it on yourself, you know that, don't you kid."

"Not for much longer," Ashden said under his breath, turning abruptly from the poster and heading down to the playground. A young redhead watching from the stairway, caught him off guard and in his effort to avoid her, he slipped sideways, lost his balance and toppled the rest of the way down.

Before she could apologise, the bony fist of Oscar Rindman reached into the heap of Ashden's body and pulled him up by the collar.

"Watch where ya lyin', Banksy. I almost stubbed a toe on you," and he kicked Ashden's ankle, smirking over his shoulder at his best mate, Mark.

Ashden remained silent, staring at what ground he could see on either side of Oscar's knuckles.

"All right, back to sleep," said Oscar, pushing him into the dirt.

"Ooh, don't cry, Banksy, don't cry," taunted Mark as they sauntered off, laughing.

"You okay there, Jaybanks?" asked the teacher reappearing with newspaper in hand.

Ashden glanced back at the boys, smoothing down his collar. He nodded, long strands of fringe falling into his eyes.

"All right then," the teacher said and disappeared.

From inside the doorway at the top of the steps, the redhead watched Ashden pick himself up and walk to class. He pulled a toy from his back pocket, squeezed it in his hand then returned it.

"Lucky Oscar missed that," she said, turning to the library. Beside the door on the pin board was Ashden's poster. Elanora Lacey stopped in front of it and shook her head, "But wait till he sees this!"

By lunchtime the inevitable happened. Oscar found the poster and Elanora saw the consequences unfold from her hideout in the bush. Oscar got him just as he was heading for his favourite place under the old fig tree at the foot of the playground, thirty metres from where Elanora crouched. Ashden was sent sprawling onto the asphalt with an expert shove from behind. Oscar towered over him waiting till a sizeable crowd gathered. And it gathered quickly. Eager onlookers. Happy to cheer on the school bully if it bought them a moment's peace.

Waving about in Oscar Rindman's fist, directly under Ashden's nose, was the poster.

Next Monday

Donate your old toys for charity

Soft animals only

Collection at Assembly

No adolescent worth his acne would let a boy sap about with anything soft and sentimental like a cuddly toy and get away with it. But no matter how many times Oscar beat this into him, Ashden never learned. Now he wanted everyone else to bring in theirs as well, with the weak excuse of donating them to charity. He was the charity, more like, and Oscar Rindman was only too willing to donate a fist full.

Elanora had observed Ashden many times from her secret hideout. She watched the way he slunk in and out of school, soft toys in tow. How he sat so peacefully between the fig's arching roots. How he never appeared to care what the other boys said or did to him, just went his own way, sometimes there, sometimes absent for days, always alone. Elanora knew about alone. Despite a stream of red hair, Elanora Lacey was seldom noticed by anyone. She was the kind of girl who blended so far into the background as to become part of it. Regardless of anything she said or did, no one ever rested their eyes on her long enough to form an opinion let alone take an interest.

Her school reports were terrible. The teachers always forgot to mark her work or if they remembered, forgot to record it. Consequently she was a "passive student who failed to complete class work and assignments." Last year she decided to stop bringing in her completed assignments and workbooks to prove them wrong. Instead she quietly folded her report cards and filed them in the bottom of her wardrobe. She had waited for her parents to ask for them, but they never did.

All of which meant that Elanora had learned how to occupy herself. Alone. And since the discovery of the perfect hideout, found while scouring the bush for her toy pony that Oscar Rindman had drop kicked, that had been easy.

She had been enchanted at first sight by the hide with its rusty panels angled like a moth eaten tent. Any supporting beams from the original shed had long since been digested by termites and what remained had slumped to the ground creating a small crawl space. Her toy pony, thanks to Oscar's kick, had been wedged in one of the many rust holes with such a look of contentment that she had taken it as a sign and crawled inside.

As the year drew to a close, Elanora found herself spending more and more time in her hideout staring out at the playground, fixated on the enormous spectre of a fig tree - The Strangler. There it stood, at the furthest edge. Six storeys high and two elephants wide. Anchored to the ground by vast multi limbed trunks descending from along its branches like extrusions of swamp mud, oozing and melting onto the encroaching asphalt. Its leaves were rubbery thick and the moment you braved its canopy it enveloped you in mystery. Though few could stand its shade. In the dark, its network of limbs and dangling roots were too much like sinew and skeleton. Looking at it for too long could trick your mind into seeing deeply buried faces screaming for release. It was safest to ignore the tree and glance only occasionally to check it hadn't moved.

An old rumour that a dog was found skewered by one of its fast descending limbs kept most people well shy of it. The fact that every so often an entirely new trunk appeared overnight, anchoring a thick branch to the ground, made the rumour all the more believable. And then there was the dead man found fifty years ago swinging from a limb, a noose of dangling roots around his neck.

If Elanora ever passed too close to it her blood pricked her skin as if clotted with iron filings and the tree magnetised her towards its dark folds. In recent months the sensation had intensified. Yet in spite of her fear, Elanora was fascinated by the sight of it and spent hours spying on it from her hideout, which was how she had also become fascinated by Ashden Jaybanks; a scab kneed year niner with the occasional air of an adult but the embarrassing obsessions of a kid. The boy with the too-big clothes and the bag of toys. But the ease with which he moved about The Strangler made her curious. Everyone else kept a respectful distance. Except Oscar of course, who had to prove he wasn't scared of anything. She wondered what could give Ashden such confidence. Unfortunately, he always hung under the fig so she could never ask, but her interest in him grew. It grew so much, that on that day when Oscar Rindman set to humiliate him once again, shaking him about like an under-stuffed toy, she snapped. Storming from her hideout, she ran directly down to that dreaded old Strangler.

_Couldn't he retaliate just a bit?_ Elanora thought, squeezing to the front of the onlookers. They hadn't made a complete ring around Ashden in case they came too close to the fig. Instead they formed a half circle at the canopy's edge, with him cornered by its curving roots like a rabbit caught in a dragon's tail. Beneath dark eyebrows, his eyes shone in the shadows. His ears were hidden by the wayward fall of his hair but every sound of the crowd washed into them.

"How come everywhere I go today, you're takin' a nap?" Oscar said, surveying the group and giving Ashden a nudge in the ribs with his shoe.

Blood shifted heavily in Elanora's face as she poked her head through the crowd.

"You want Mark to get your cuddly wuddly so you can have a little naptime, Banksy Baby?" sneered Oscar, putting his arm around his mate's shoulders. "Or would you wahva have mine?" They both sniggered as Oscar hovered his fist over Ashden's jaw. It was too easy to tease this kid. Oscar gave Mark the nod and he lunged forward to wrench the soft toy from under Ashden's arm. The crowd cheered.

Mark Findle's great paw of a hand closed around the leg of the bear and yanked it free. Oscar rushed in with a kick, stopping inches short of Ashden's ribs. He then pivoted to land a hefty kick in the guts of his bulging backpack. Ashden's hand shot out to grab it but he was too late. The violence of the kick dislodged the top flap revealing a tightly packed host of furry heads with glass eyes that stared out at the crowd. The students erupted like seagulls squabbling over scraps of his self-esteem.

"Check this out," yelled Oscar over the noise as he caught the bear Mark tossed him and drop kicked it over their heads.

"Just stop, why don't you?" said Ashden calmly, stirring up dust as he rose to his feet.

"Ooh just stop, why don't you," Oscar mimicked, crumpling the poster he was holding into a ball. He drew back his arm aiming at Ashden's face then lurched forward at the last minute to grab him by the scruff of the neck, forcing the paper wad into his mouth. "Here comes the aeroplane!" he chimed, high on adrenaline. Ashden spat it out as his body hit the ground again.

Elanora hadn't taken her eyes off Ashden's the whole time and noticed how his focus had never left the far flung toy. He kept moving his head and his look of concern seemed more to do with losing sight of it than being beaten up.

Elanora loved toys herself, but it was odd even to her to see such passion in the eyes of a teenage boy. But perhaps he would change once puberty really kicked in. Perhaps he would stop carrying them around as if they were babies but keep his soft side. _For me?_ she asked herself. Elanora rolled her eyes and left the chanting crowd to scout for Ashden's bear.

Under one of the classrooms she found it, dusted it off then hid it in the arms of the jumper tied around her waist. As the crowd surged she dived back in and pawed to the front where Ashden was on his toes, eyes searching, while Oscar demonstrated how to unbalance your opponent with a well-aimed kick to the back of the kneecaps.

"Bank-sy, Ba-by, Bank-sy, Ba-by," the students chorused, clapping in rhythm.

When Ashden was back in the dirt, Elanora eased the toy from her waist hoping to catch his eye. Ashden's eyes locked on. With a resurgence of energy he rolled towards her, plucked it from her hand, grabbed for his bag then hurled himself into the forked roots of the fig.

Blood began to pound her ears and heat her face. The heaviness in her head brought her to her knees where her hands involuntarily crawled forward in the dirt. As she reared back, her skin separated from her skull and her eyes bulged painfully. Through the distortion Elanora saw the colours behind Ashden smudge, erasing him streak by streak from the scene. There were short, diagonal blurs of tree root smeared through the brown earth that just as quickly blended into a blue uniformed shirt and, like an eraser rubbing in reverse, Ashden reappeared and the smudginess vanished.

The pounding in her ears stopped, her skin settled into its proper contours and her eyes sunk back in their sockets. She shook her head and looked around, expecting to see astonishment on everyone's faces. But there was nothing. The jeering continued as before making Elanora wonder whether she'd been mistaken. She looked back at Ashden. On his arm was a gash which she couldn't remember him receiving from Oscar. His bag was still filled with furry faces, but she was sure these ones were different. There was no mistaking that to a toy-trained eye.

The bell rang and one voice cut above the rest. "Teacher's comin'!" and the crowd scattered. Oscar gave Ashden his wait-till-next-time smirk. The interruption didn't worry him. He walked away as easily from bullying as he did from a drink at the bubblers. He even wiped his mouth in the same satisfied way.

All that remained in the playground was a dishevelled boy with a bleeding arm and a girl with a puzzled expression on her face, backing step by step away from the fig.

### Chapter 2

Ashden inspected the wound on his arm before sinking back, elbows on bent knees, head slumped. He sighed and ran his fingers through his brown hair before staring hard at his hands, closing and opening them.

"What just happened to you?" Elanora asked from a safe distance.

Ashden flinched and squinted sideways at her from under his fringe.

"I mean, I saw you...rubbed out and then I saw you come back," she persisted, clasping her hands together. Shifting her weight left then right.

His lips parted and he flicked the hair from his eyes.

"And I know Oscar didn't give you that cut."

Ashden clamped his jaw shut and covered his bleeding arm with his hand.

"And your toys. Your toys changed. Why didn't anyone else see it?" Her arms were now folded across her chest.

His face reddened and he bit his bottom lip. Stealing a glance back at the fig, he fastened the flap of his backpack, leapt to his feet and hurried, head down, right past her.

"Don't go!" she called, knotting her fingers in her hair. Should she follow? Who would really notice if she skipped class? No one was ever surprised when Ashden left. He was bullied so often that teachers had given up trying to find a solution and turned a blind eye to his random exits, figuring it was easier to ignore a problem when it wasn't there. After all, his mother didn't care so why should they? Reluctantly, she disentangled her fingers and returned to class.

The bell finally rang and all the students of Scrubstone pressed through the front gates. Laughter volleyed around the group as everyone gave their version of the "naptime" incident and it wasn't long before the stories flowed as robust as Chinese whispers. Elanora slipped between them, listening.

"Remember that time we saw him sitting up on the oval having his lunch with his best friends?" yelled Damo.

"Yeah, his stuffed friends!" roared Scotty, casting an eye on Oscar who nodded as he continued, "Two teddies and some weird red thing! I think he was having a Teddy Bear's Picnic."

"And remember we chucked rocks at him and he acted like we were shooting bullets at his precious babies? That was so funny," Mark held his belly. "And then 'e took 'em to the doctors! It's true, me dad saw 'im."

"For their shots!" added Fipsie in Oscar's direction.

"And what about when Alfie saw him at old Foly's garage sale? He was huggin' all these mangy lookin' toys like he was in love. There were actual tears in his eyes!"

"Oh yeah, he was bawlin' like a baby, that kid. And Jenny Snell was there and she said he didn't stop talking to them and patting them all the way home. 'Oh my babies, I love you, I love you'!" hooted Damo throwing his head back. Oscar gave him an approving flick on the ear.

"Plus, he's a wimp. You can't say anything to him without him goin' off for a massive sulk."

"I s'pose that's what you get when you've got a cabbage for a mother!" Mark sneered.

"Reckon he started going psycho when his Dad left," suggested Fipsie, scooting over to Oscar.

"Well, my dad racked off and that didn't make me some namby-pamby-cuddly-toy-loving-psycho-freak! And if anyone brings in a stupid fluffy toy on Monday I'm gonna rip its head off and flush it down the toilet, after I've flushed Jaybanks," finished Oscar giving Fipsie an encouraging clip over the head. And the group, still relieved that he'd found a target who wasn't them, continued home accusing Ashden of all sorts of freakishness and swearing that they personally, most definitely, did not own any fluffy toys.

Elanora stood outside Ashden's place peering up the driveway between spaces in the paling fence. The yard was a feisty mass of olive trees and assorted shrubs blocking a clear view of the house which gleamed lighthouse white and blue. On the front porch sat Ashden's mother, framed by a draping vine. She stared vacantly in the direction of school, a forgotten tea cup wrapped in her hands. A tousle of mahogany curls was piled on her head and her wrist showed several rows of silver bangles. It was difficult to be sure from that distance but Elanora thought she saw a black tattoo on her arm. Her dress may have been colourful and her skin as warm as summer sun but her face was cheerless.

Elanora shifted her gaze to the front fly screen as it squeaked open. Ashden appeared carrying a fresh cup that he exchanged for the one his mother held so absentmindedly. He smiled at her, saying something Elanora couldn't hear. Out of his three-times-too-big-for-him school uniform, and from a distance, he actually looked quite normal. Not the toy hugging social outcast or the pathetic school yard victim everyone else saw him as. He looked, if he grew up just a bit more, even fairly good looking. Elanora took a breath and repositioned for a better view between a honeysuckle and a magnolia branch, just in time to see Ashden pass a small toy to his mother before returning inside.

Breaking the silence, a low growl drifted from the side fence where two sets of eyes, camouflaged by dappled light, bore into her. Elanora's limbs tingled as she cast her eyes into the leafy darkness. A musky smell wafted on the air. The throb of growls thickened, similar to cats perhaps, but more human in their throatiness. Her scalp crawled as if The Strangler's branches dragged their skeletal tips through her hair. She looked up at Ashden's mother, alone, staring.

With her heart in her throat, she heaved her bag into the shadows. It thudded against something solid before slumping onto the other side of the palings. The growls ended with a shriek and a skittering in the foliage. Elanora strained to hear their fading footsteps.

Her heart continued to race as she slipped through the gate into the Jaybanks' garden to retrieve her bag. With so many plants Elanora was confident she wouldn't be seen, until a glance upwards showed Ashden's mother standing, staring directly at her, toy in one hand, cup dripping over the patio in the other. Her face eerily blank.

"Oh, hi Mrs Jaybanks. Sorry, just had to get my bag. See you!" and before Ashden had a chance to find her disturbing his crazy mum, Elanora rushed away thinking how surprising it was to have been noticed, especially by a woman who seemed not to notice anything at all, and how curious those sounds had been especially in light of Ashden's magical disappearance. She touched her face and closed her eyes. Why had her skin been so drawn to the fig? What was it about that old spectre of a tree?

### Chapter 3

Ashden woke from a fitful sleep with the covers kicked off and his body growing colder by the second. He rescued the doona and curled into a ball, squeezing his hands into fists, trying to feel the strength in his body. It wasn't there. He ran his fingers down his throat feeling the smallest hint of an Adam's apple and dreaded the sound his voice would make when he opened his mouth. How he hated this weakening. If only he could be done with puberty once and for all. He slid his hand through his hair, sighing, _Not long now._ Soon he'd just let it happen. Stay put long enough for it to run its course and spit him out on the other side as a man. All the backwards and forwardsing was doing his head in. And all this mad toy collecting? He needed a break. Just a break. In all honesty, even he'd find it hard not to tease a kid like him if he didn't know the truth. A teenage boy obsessed with stuffed animals? He groaned.

Ashden's breathing came easier when he saw the cheery faces of his troupe watching him from their position on top of the wardrobe. His special one clung to the edge of his pillow, staring dotingly up with round, unblinking eyes.

"Good morning," he said in his breaking voice. There was no audible reply but Ashden smiled. He pushed himself onto his elbows. The girl with the red hair! He'd almost forgotten.

He clamped his eyes shut. There was her small cream face and haze of toffee hair and it sent a warmth of familiarity through him, although he couldn't for the life of him remember having seen her before. With her thin frame and glowing hair she could have some breed of pixie, hardly a girl you would forget.

But how had she seen _him_? No one ever saw him come and go through the gateway. A tiny thrill spiralled to life in his chest. _Could she be like me?_ _Should I find out?_ he wondered.

Ashden sat up in bed, letting his unfocused gaze rest on his walls, wondering how long it would be till his mother painted them over pink or teal or amethyst. With half a smile he closed his eyes again and yawned but it wasn't long before his jaw clenched. He shifted the stack of books on his bedside table to the left revealing a small silver framed photograph. A barely there man holding the up stretched hand of a little boy on the horizon of an empty field. It sharpened his vision and his head cleared. Neatly, he shifted the stack back and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

He had had enough of keeping secrets. Since Mr Johnson disappeared there was no-one he trusted to tell. His mother could only cope with basic information nowadays and any discussion beyond food, clothing and shelter, or on a good day, colour schemes, was met with a blank stare and the ritual suggestion of a cup of tea. Someone to share his adventure with was what he needed. A thirteen year old girl wasn't exactly the partner he had in mind. Besides, hadn't he determined to give it all away? For a while? There was no question his mother needed his undivided attention if she was a chance at improving. Anyway, today he had his last round of Seeking to do and then tomorrow, maybe, he would arrange a test to prove either way if she was or wasn't one like him. "Just out of interest," he said to his bedside companion.

The incident yesterday in the playground provided the perfect cover for his absence from school today and Ashden busied himself with preparations. He took a fold of money from his drawer and put it in the bottom of his backpack. With a fair amount of head shaking, he also added a few strands of ribbon and a couple of flannelette squares. "Toughen up, princess," he said to himself, adding a drink bottle and the lamb roast sandwiches he had prepared the night before. He also grabbed a map, a bus timetable and a list of addresses. Before leaving, he took a cup of tea into his mother who was still in bed.

"Good morning Mum, here's your cuppa. Looks like a nice day outside. I'm going now, so you take care. How about some painting today, if you feel up to it?" He kissed her cheek while she mouthed what could have been goodbye; the morning ritual complete. Suddenly she turned to him wide eyed.

"It's Elanora! I know it ...Tell her... I'm sorry." Her head fell back on the pillow, her eyes glued to the ceiling.

"Sorry for what, Mum? Who's Elanora?" he whispered.

There was a long pause until his mother finally closed her lids. He sighed and adjusted her blanket. "It's all right, things will be better soon."

Ashden waited behind the magnolia tree until the last of the students had scuffed past on their way to school, then closed the gate and headed for the bus stop. He walked with his head down, assuming the position that would attract the least attention.

The mini bus arrived with a belch and he climbed aboard. Old Reg Woodburn, a volunteer at Carford Hospital, was already seated and beckoned a reluctant Ashden to join him. Reg had been working the day Ashden's mother and father rushed him in with the glass eye of a teddy bear stuck up his nose when he was two. His father had been hysterical. Reg had had to take him by the arm and walk laps of the grounds to calm him. All the while the father was inconsolable and kept insisting on finding a needle and thread, needle and thread and once that glass eye had been removed from Ashden's swollen nostril, he set to as quick as lightning sewing it back on before he even thought to give his recovering son a hug. He knew about this because it had become a story Reg Woodburn loved to tell.

Reg offered him a butterscotch.

"Thanks."

"How's your mother? She painting?" Reg asked, tucking a sweet behind his thin lips.

"She's well, Mr Woodburn. I think she'll start painting soon." The sticky sweetness of butterscotch reminded him of the week his mother painted the kitchen ten shades of sugar.

"Is she getting out and about much?"

Ashden swallowed. "Well, I think she will soon," he said, which was easier than saying that she probably never would. Ashden used to be disappointed that his mother never made it out and about until he realised how it saved her the embarrassment of knowing what an A grade target he was.

"I really must pop round to see her. I miss our afternoon cuppa's." Reg started rubbing his chin and Ashden knew he was gearing up to tell one of his good old yarns about some odd bod friend or other. "Speaking of cuppas, an old mate of mine, Dick Woodchip, played for the Carford Football Legends back in '71, wouldn't play a match if he hadn't had a triple bag, four sugar and cream tea. But this one day..."

Grateful for the assigned role as listener, Ashden let his vision blur out the window where it was soothed by the passing blend of colours.

The bus eventually lurched to a stop. Reg cut short his story with a crunch of butterscotch. "Here already? Where is it you are going today, anyway?"

"I've got an appointment with the eye specialist." Ashden rolled out his tried and tested response.

Reg squeezed past, case in hand, lolly packet on offer. "One for the road, eh? Hope it goes well, son," and off he shuffled out the door.

Ashden slid over to the window seat. He was thankful the old man had stopped coming around so often to his house. He didn't need his help and he didn't need anyone seeing his mum the way she was. That was one real benefit of quitting this craziness. He could spend every bit of energy on getting his mum better again. He could look after her properly and if she ever did start painting, then he might even get some proper conversation out of her. Maybe. He pulled out his list and added paint pots to the bottom in capital letters.

When his stop finally came, he jumped off with his map unfolded, studying its highlighted sections. His destination was only five blocks away in Wallsend Lane. He picked up his pace and began whistling at his good fortune at having heard about the place so completely by chance before it was too late. Who knew how many souls awaited him in that dead end corner of town.

### Chapter 4

Bloated blue dumpsters dotted the laneway along with a few faded cars bogged in litter. The buildings were decomposing like dead men, with awnings either shredded or half suspended from tenuous metal threads. Their flesh and bones were gradually being stripped and fed to the hungry dumpsters. Ashden shivered as he passed their gaping mouths. The shop he sought was at the end of the lane beside a chewed up driveway that divided a wild thatch of bushes and ended at an enormous tree overshadowing the property.

A series of bells jingled on a string as an alert for the owner to appear. Although no-one did. Dust and stale air settled on him as it always did in these places, making him feel sluggish. There was the usual display of worn out figurines, household goods from decades past and piles of musty books and records. Stacks of collector magazines created an isle that ushered customers to more clumps of bric-a-brac. There were racks of sagging clothes and piles of dried out footwear. Everything was drab and lifeless. Eventually he spied a jumbled row of soft toys on the side wall and his eyes locked on them.

As he drew closer his face set hard in a mask of concentration. His eyes gleamed like steel in their sockets. A sparking energy built up in his gut and behind his forehead until it reached right into his optic nerve, shooting out as fractured light from his pupils straight into the glassy eyes of the stuffed toys on the shelf. He scanned each soft face with super natural focus.

The first and second held no sign of what he was looking for.

The third and fourth, equally disappointing.

The fifth, the sixth, he still hadn't found one.

Neither the tenth nor eleventh were worth a second glance.

But the twelfth! In the twelfth he found exactly what he was looking for.

Power hummed from the heart of the toy and a weak beam of light from its scratched eyes connected with his. An arrow of sorrow shot into Ashden's heart. His hardened eyes softened with tears as he grabbed the toy from the shelf and held it to his chest. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. It wasn't that he hated the crying, it was part of the connection, but he always felt self-conscious about tears, wondering secretly whether it wasn't because he really was too weak.

With the first one tucked under his arm he scanned for another. There was a barrel in the far corner full of toys nearly hidden under an enormous spray of artificial flowers. He plucked out the flowers and picked up each toy in turn, focusing his attention on their eyes. Sadness again shot into him at the moment his gaze was returned by the being, and he clutched at another saved soul. The rest made no impact on him and he was glad.

"Hello young man," issued a crinkled female voice from behind the counter. "Found something you like?"

He jumped "Oh, yeah, I'll take these, thanks." Ashden wiped his eyes again; yes, the tears were definitely embarrassing. He kept the toys in his arms and dug for his wallet. "How much are they?"

"Love, if they mean that much to you, then how about you just take them. My gift. You look like you need some cheering up. And to be honest, it's going to take more than your pocket money to pay my bills." The old lady smiled and dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a pink hanky. She reminded him of shortbread and painted china cups. "Now you take care, young man."

"I will. Thanks."

"Hold on, love, you might like this one too." She shuffled behind a screen of purple beads into her private room and reappeared after a moment of rummaging with a faded penguin wearing a red scarf. Her hand shook slightly as she extended it, looking expectantly at Ashden. Its face was quite cute but Ashden wasn't interested in cute. He turned his back on the old lady as if inspecting the penguin in the light of the window, all the while gazing into its eyes. By the thickness of her glasses he was pretty sure he needn't have worried about privacy, but he didn't like taking chances.

"It's ok, but I'm fine with these."

The old lady's face fell and the hanky reappeared. "Oh, I thought you liked toys."

Ashden hesitated. "Yeah I do. Actually, if it's all right, I would like that one," he said. "I just feel a bit bad not paying for it."

"Oh don't worry about that," she brightened, stuffing her hanky back in her pocket. "It'll do you no good in life to feel ashamed of things," she added in a grandmotherly whisper. "Of course, this one's my favourite." She reached for an even older teddy bear sitting comfortably on an armchair behind the counter. He had well-worn tan fur with jointed limbs, a threadbare nose set high on his muzzle and a head skewed slightly to one side. But it was his eyes that drew Ashden in. Light bubbled out of his button black eyes beckoning Ashden's own inner light to connect. This old bear sang into his heart, full of joy and contentment, not a trace of sorrow. He was almost worn out with love yet more alive than Ashden had ever encountered before.

"You like him too, I see," she said, nodding approvingly. "It's silly for an old woman like me to love a teddy bear so much isn't it, love? But he's always been my sweetie. Never did have a little one myself. Oh dear, listen to me! I won't keep on. Now you have a lovely day and don't mind me and all my nonsense."

"No, not at all. He's a terrific bear. He looks like one I remember from when I was really young. Is he an antique?"

"If I say he is does that make me one too?" she hooted. "Oh love, he belonged to my mother when she was a little girl. Never let him out of her sight. When she was in the hospital towards the end, you know," she paused and Ashden nodded sympathetically. "Towards the end she passed him on to me and said 'Nory, take Edward Arthur Jameson and love him always.'" Her eyes misted over and she dabbed at them with the hanky. "So I have. Look at me, silly old fool. There I go again! Now love, you come back anytime you like. If I find any special toys I'll keep them behind the counter for you. Would you like that?"

"Yes, that'd be great. But I might not be back for a while. Thanks for showing me Edward. He is a special bear and I can tell he's really happy here with you."

Nory looked at him quizzically and smiled. Her grey curls remained motionless as she tilted her head, peering at Ashden over her glasses. Ashden nodded a polite goodbye to them both.

Once outside he breathed the fresh air, clearing the dust motes from his lungs with a few strong exhalations. Gently he placed his new charges in his bag, gave it a pat and strolled back down the lane. How lucky they were to be found on his final circuit for who knew how long.

A scuttle to his left startled him. He swung his head to look, automatically tightening his grip on the bag straps. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw a brown tail disappear behind a dumpster. He walked a little faster and his heart beat quickened. A different sound stopped him cold. A guttural rumble from the bin. Its reverberations swelled to fill his ears. He readied himself to bolt and after the next growl he did, backpack smacking with every step. Two rats sprang in front of him from one of the weather beaten shopfronts and streaked his way as if pulled by invisible strings, making him jump as they passed. There was a commotion behind him of growling, squealing and grinding in the dirt, then nothing.

Ashden didn't turn around. He kept running until every drop of adrenaline was burned up and he collapsed on someone's lawn praying that whatever beast it was wouldn't come after him out there in the open.

He lay on the grass replaying the growl in his head. It was so similar to the one he'd heard when his arm was bitten yesterday. Were they that incensed that he had touched their territory? Did they need to stalk him out here? He'd only reached a little way into the shadow and he hadn't seen sight of them for ages. It was just a dumb mistake. He looked at the cut on his arm which was developing a green tinge. _Only one more trip through the gateway, then see ya later beasts_ , he said to himself.

Comforted by the sound of a lawn mower starting up down the road, Ashden sat up and opened the backpack to inspect his new charges. The penguin he placed straight onto the grass, but the teddy and the purple cat, he patted. Carefully he tied the ribbons he had brought around their necks and wrapped them in flannelette squares. He spoke gently and gazed into their brightening eyes but drew back as he caught a glimpse in his mind's eye of how he must look to the neighbours. With a sigh, he returned them to the bag and stood up. He looked at the penguin lying vacant on the lawn then up at the door of the house he had stopped at. There was a tricycle under the carport. Giving the penguin a quick flip in the air, he set it on the doorstep before leaving with the others. A few paces down the street he stalled. He bit the corner of his mouth then jogged back to the penguin, pushed it head first into his backpack and continued on. He couldn't quite remember why, just now, but he knew there was a reason it would come in handy.

### Chapter 5

Elanora thought she might be sick as she paced the far corner of the oval waiting for Ashden to appear. That morning he had pressed a note into her hand telling her to meet him at recess. She was relieved to read _on the oval_ rather than _under the fig_ , but her stomach was now a nervous knot as the minutes passed and he hadn't appeared. She glanced over at the narrow path leading to her hideout. That morning she had set her toys into the rusty holes and wondered now whether to show Ashden or not. Would even _he_ think she was too immature? Was she, in fact, too immature? _For a gawky boy in love with teddies? Hardly!_

Her thoughts were interrupted by Ashden's approach. He was gazing at a toy monkey in his hand as he walked.

"Oh hi! I'm glad you came. You're so late I thought maybe you'd left school again. I mean...Well, I wish we had more time before the bell because I've got so many questions."

Ashden cut her off with a harsh look. Elanora closed her mouth and narrowed her eyes. He coughed to clear his throat but when he spoke his voice still caught.

"Now I know this is going to seem weird, but I'm just going to do it." He bent over his bag to open the top flap, snatching glances at her. "If you want Oscar shoving my face in the dirt then go ahead, tell everyone all about it."

"I'd never do that! Don't think I'm like them. You don't even know me," she retorted.

"Likewise," he said, pulling from his bag seven soft toys and placing them on the ground. He sat beside them, gesturing for Elanora to do the same.

"Oh they're so cute!" she fawned.

"Mmm," he stared at her, unimpressed. "Tell me which ones really stand out to you. Tell me if any of them seem...almost real."

Without hesitation, Elanora picked up the monkey, three teddies and a purple cat and gave them a hug. Ashden held his breath. Then Elanora looked backwards and forwards between the five she had chosen and the other two still lying on the grass. With confidence she gathered up the penguin with the red scarf and the skinny bear as well.

"Oh they're so adorable. I love them. So real, all of them."

Ashden exhaled loudly. "You know what? You can keep them," he said, taking back the monkey, the teddies and the purple cat but leaving her the lifeless penguin and skinny bear. "See you round," he said dismissively and left as quickly as he had come.

The heat from her cheeks steamed the tears in Elanora's eyes.

What a jerk! And I bothered to feel sorry for him? There really is something wrong with him and it isn't anything to do with toys!

She ran to her hideout. A dozen bright faces watched her return from their peepholes and once inside Elanora pulled them in, feet first. Taking a few fat leaves, she crammed them into the spy holes to shut out the playground. "There!" she fumed and sat back on the ground hugging the new arrivals under the filtering light, pouring her disappointment into them. They absorbed her hurt and responded with a faint hum.

Back in class, the bell came as a shock to Elanora and she was late leaving the front gates. That afternoon Ashden was just another stupid boy and she was back to being a nobody to anybody. Her only consolation was the toys that she was looking forward to introducing to her collection at home. She didn't see Ashden at his letterbox as she dragged her feet homeward. Or see him furrow his brow when he saw her and wrestle with some tangled thought.

"Hey!" he called.

It wasn't that Elanora ignored him. She was realistic enough to know by now that no one called out for her attention. She continued into her street where weeds crawled up the council strip to her house which loomed half renovated above the driveway. The Laceys had once been in the money but now were out of it and the unfinished mansion was now an insulting reminder of their position.

Her giant ridgeback, Cooper, greeted her with his ears turned out like bat wings and a smile on his grey flecked muzzle. She kissed his head as he trembled on arthritic legs. The neighbour's dog, Scrufkin, jumped his fence and danced at her feet. She scrubbed his mop of fur and threw a nearby stick. Ginger sidled up to her legs, weaving and nudging. Three more cats joined in but wandered back to the sun after their brief salutation.

Ashden leaned against her gate taken by the affectionate crowd. "Are they all yours?"

The animals turned their heads his way and Elanora reluctantly followed suit, recognising the breaking voice. Her lips stayed pursed for as long as they could, but the way Ashden was looking into the animals' faces with what seemed to be tears in his eyes, softened her. "Well, Cooper is..." she said, "and the cats. But this one just turned up a few weeks ago. He seems to like it here so I guess he's going to stay."

Ashden finally took his gaze off the animals. "Look, I just wanted to say sorry about walking off on you like that. I shouldn't have shown you all those toys. It didn't mean anything. I think you're a really sweet kid and I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"A sweet kid? You're only a couple of years older than me, you know," she said, adding _and you still carry toys around like you're four, so you can cut the sweet kid stuff!_ in her head as she rubbed Cooper's chest.

Ashden's face lost its colour. There was a prolonged silence.

Elanora snuck him a sideways glance. "It's OK. Let's forget it. Thanks for the toys. And for coming over."

Ashden nodded, his gaze crossing back to the animals. Something ticked away behind his eyes and Elanora saw his concentration.

"You like pets as well?" she asked.

"Some I do," he answered.

"I've got a goat out the back if you want to see it." She led the way up the front steps not waiting for an answer. A Siamese cat skittled behind the terracotta pots as she reached the landing. Its hackles raised and its eyes flashed at her before disappearing into the shadows. Elanora stared after it. "I'll make friends with that one yet," she said.

The sign above the front door read, "Lacey and Lacey Business Services and Accounting". Ashden glanced at it before following Elanora inside. "Lacey," he whispered to himself.

Dotted along the hallway was frame after frame of family portraits dated by their hairstyles and fashions. Mother, father and two smiling brunette daughters growing old before his eyes. "Where are you in all these?" he asked hoping his eyesight wasn't failing him completely.

Elanora brushed by, "Oh they'd had enough of all that sort of stuff by the time I came along. There's a sixteen year gap between me and my next sister."

"Sixteen years? Wow, that's a real age difference. Do you get on with them?"

Elanora shrugged and hung onto the door handle at the end of the hall. She held up her finger and mouthed "Wait there". She knocked quietly before opening the door a fraction.

"Hello Mum?"

"Who's that?" queried a stern voice buried deep behind computers and office furniture.

"It's me, Elanora. I've brought a friend over to see Nilly."

"Oh, yes. All right, Elanora, but don't make a noise and close the door behind you. We're in the middle of finishing a very important job."

"Elanora...that's weird," he muttered.

Elanora's face flushed, "They've got a lot of work on, you know," she said, easing the door shut.

"Oh, no I didn't mean that. Hey, don't worry about them, _Elanora_ ," he said, nodding towards the closed door.

She smiled a little. "My sisters were off at boarding school when I was born. I've never really lived with them," she said hoping to explain the absence of a family bond.

"Will you be boarding for any of high school?" Ashden asked.

Elanora stopped and about faced, "No, I won't be one of those lucky ones," she answered. "Too expensive."

"So when did you guys move to Scrubstone?"

Elanora looked at him, eyebrow raised. "Since always. I may be a couple of years below you but I've been at the same school as you since kindergarten."

Ashden wiped his hand over his cheeks and down. "Sorry, yeah that's right. I do remember."

Elanora sighed, "Sure."

She led him past the kitchen on their way to her room. In passing he noticed the fridge door clear except for a large school photograph of a red head in plaits sticky taped in the centre with a texta label "Love Elanora" underneath in large enough print even for his eyes to read.

Inside her room, Elanora emptied her bag, carefully positioning the tattered penguin and skinny bear in pride of place on her bedspread. Ashden hovered in the doorway. He glanced around the walls ribbed with toy stuffed shelves. "Whoa," he breathed, entering in a trance. He circled slowly on the spot, open mouthed and glassy eyed.

Oh, I know, there are a lot of them. Too many, I guess, but I can never seem to give them up." _Immature!_

"They're..."

"Yeah, everywhere. I'm due for a clean-up. But...Are you all right?"

Ashden didn't reply. He was transfixed now by the two new arrivals on her bed. The penguin and the skinny bear. The glow from his eyes almost singed the air.

"Ashden?"

His eyes gleamed into hers. "Who are you?"

"What do you mean?" she shrugged nervously, looking away. "I suppose you could say I'm a toy collector. I know I've got too many. I should stop but I can never resist. So...what's the matter?"

"We've got to talk! My place. Let's go!"

"What about the goat?"

"Come on," he said, dragging her out by the hand.

### Chapter 6

When Elanora stepped over the threshold of Ashden's neat white cottage wondering how his mother would react to seeing her again, she had to physically restrain herself from pirouetting on the spot by faking an itch on her knee. Each wall was painted a different colour and each different colour was dappled, stippled or washed with another so that being in the house was like standing in the birthplace of a rainbow. There were walls of dolton blue, crimson daubed lavender, forest green with lime stripes. If she spun, she was sure she they would blend into white.

"This is incredible," she said, scratching hard.

"It's my mum's thing. She likes to paint. She _did_ like to paint. I used to come home after school and find everything repainted. I can't tell you how many colours my room's been. The doctor said it was good therapy, but I don't see that it worked too well."

Elanora nearly danced behind him along the candy striped hallway to the kitchen. But when she passed the yellow drenched sunroom where Ashden's mother sat in a nest of cushions like an enchanted princess in a chest of jewels, Elanora grabbed Ashden's arm as a dizzy spell hit. As if she really had been spinning.

"We won't disturb her," he whispered and Elanora wondered if that was because they were planning on being really quiet or because she was catatonic and wouldn't notice if they set the house on fire. Stories about Ashden's mother ran rife at school and, looking at her so vacant faced, it was hard not to give them credit. They passed the doorway in an instant but Elanora could barely wrench her eyes from the woman as Ashden led on.

"There's so much to tell you, it's hard to know where to start," he said, pulling her into his kaleidoscopic room. "I had no idea I'd find another person like me, especially not at the same school. Especially not now!" he added, his voice smoothing out.

"First of all, I want you to meet Eskatoria." Ashden put into her hands his companion. A plush brown monkey with fur in miniature twists from years of affection. Her long arms were set wide beckoning a hug which Elanora promptly gave.

"Eskatoria is alive," began Ashden. "Not just in my imagination, or yours, but in reality."

He paused. Elanora felt light headed again.

"You're a bit different to me, but I can tell you what I am and what I know. It's only right, after all." Ashden sounded older than his fifteen years as he geared himself up. "Let me explain.

"When I was seven my dad left for work one night and never came back. There was no note, no sign that things were wrong, nothing at all. He just didn't come home. We didn't know if he ran off with someone else, was killed, kidnapped, nothing. Mum completely fell apart. Just shut down to nothing. She's never been right since," his expression clouded for a moment and Elanora wanted to say something comforting but he continued. "To be honest, I kind of coped OK, which is probably a really bad thing to say. I mean, I didn't at first. But then I started spending a lot of time in my room with Eskatoria. I guess because I was so young I turned to a toy for comfort.

"At the start she was simply that; a toy, but slowly a change came over her." He paused again as if expecting her to scoff. Elanora, however, was drinking it in. "I knew because there was light in her eyes. It was like a language and I could read it. She was thinking and responding to me and to things that happened around her. There was real thought in there.

"Another thing was that when I looked into Eski's face I could see clearly for the first time in my life. And I mean that literally because I was born with...hopeless eyes."

"Oh," she said. Elanora had heard something about Ashden's eyes. "What about glasses?"

"They don't help."

_Why am I talking about glasses?_ she thought. _He's talking about toys with brains!_

He waited but Elanora kept her lips shut.

"So Eski became my closest friend," he continued. "She can't move or anything like that, but she feels."

Elanora glanced at the monkey. "Should I see it?"

"Don't you? Here, hold her again. Look into her eyes."

Elanora stared hard. Her brow creased. "I don't see anything. But I..."

"Do you feel something?" he asked.

She closed her eyes. "I just feel love...coming back? Is that it?"

"Probably. Like I said, you are a bit different to me."

"OK, tell me the rest," she said, clasping her hands in her lap.

"Later I found a toy donkey squashed in the bottom of the wardrobe. It was one that mum used to have on her bed before Dad left. When I held it, an energy flowed out from me, connecting us. That's when I figured there was definitely something...different about me," he said sweeping a hand through his fringe in the way that he did to shield his eyes.

"Not only can I reach into them but they can reach into me and send me their feelings. What came back to me from inside this donkey was sadness. Painful sadness. I gave him back to Mum knowing she was connected to him like I was to Eski and when she held him, he was happy.

"I started looking at a whole lot of toys. Most did nothing to me. They were just cloth and stuffing, but every now and then I'd find one with a light inside it that called me with such desperation that I'd have to rescue it. I had no choice. I used to carry them around wherever I went."

"Is that why they started teasing you?" asked Elanora, before closing her lips even tighter and feeling her cheeks warm.

Ashden lost his train of thought. "Yes, I s'pose it was."

"Sorry," she said.

He laughed, "Don't worry, it worked out for the best. Anyway, a new teacher arrived at school when I was in Year 4, called Mr Johnson. Everyone thought he was a bit mad. One day he brought in a whole pile of fluffy toys and we had to vote for our three favourites. I counted three that I could see life in. They were the mangiest of them all. The scrawniest and most faded but they were alive.

"Mr Johnson called me back after the bell because I was the only one who had correctly identified them. He was even more excited when he found out I'd been raised in Scrubstone, just like him. He said he'd been hoping to find me."

Elanora scrunched up her face in concentration. "I remember him," she said. "He did the same in my class. He brought in all those toys and we had to choose."

"Let me guess, you chose all of them."

Elanora grinned. "But I wish I hadn't because I think I've missed out!"

"Maybe," said Ashden, lifting his eyebrows. "Anyway, he said I was special...chosen, I think were his words. He told me I had the ability, just like him, to see the soul inside a toy and that now my role was basically to take care of them. The ones that communicated sadness to me, he said, would never be happy unless I helped them."

Elanora shivered, "A soul."

"As for you, I'm sure you're like us but I think you might be something more. Those two toys I left you with in the playground definitely didn't have any kind of life. After you had them for just a couple of hours, they did. Your whole room is alive with them and I can tell they are all connected to you."

"Are they happy?"

Ashden nodded, "Really happy."

"That's a relief," she said, a smile on her lips. "But why is it so amazing that I have so many. Lots of people collect toys."

"Well, it's not about having a collection." Ashden tugged at the neckline of his T-shirt, "I've only ever known one living toy connected to one person. I've only got one. Mr Johnson only had one. He didn't suggest you could make more..."

" _Make_ more?" Elanora was rarely tongue tied, but at last Ashden had it double knotted.

The clatter of dinnerware came from another room.

"Wait there," he said and hurried out.

The confirmation that her toys were truly alive made perfect sense and Elanora couldn't wait to get back home to hug them all. _So that's why I've never fitted in!_ _I'm special!_ she thought. "I hope so", she sighed and threw herself backwards on Ashden's bed, letting the colours spiral into her.

Minutes later, Ashden returned with two cups of creamy hot chocolate, the perfect thing to loosen tongues. She raised herself back up, noticing how marble sleek his eyes were. He watched her over the rim of his cup. There seemed to be more he wanted to say but he drank instead.

"I think it sounds fantastic," said Elanora. "And it's just awful to think of those little soulings suffering like that alone in the world." She scooped a marshmallow out with her finger and swallowed.

"Soulings?" Ashden interrupted, looking from her to Eskatoria and back again.

"Yeah, soulings. Do they have another name? It just kind of came to me."

"Soulings." He ran the word over his tongue then smiled broadly. "That's exactly what they should be called."

Elanora blushed and swirled her hot chocolate. "You know, I'll help you collect them. Nobody likes me anyway, so it's not like I'll lose a bunch of friends if I start helping you."

Ashden chewed his lip. He put his cup on the bedside table. It shifted a book and Elanora caught a glimpse of the photo.

"It's not quite as simple as that," he said, straightening the pile.

"No, I'm sure there's a lot to it," she said. "Like, whatever happened to Mr Johnson?" she asked.

"Now that, I don't know. It was all a bit mysterious. He'd just given me instructions about where to take the... _soulings_ , which I did, then when I came back, he was gone. And that was it, I never saw him again. The other teachers said that he'd had a fall but I also heard whispers that he'd gone insane. When you're only a kid it's hard to get the truth. None of the adults gave me a decent answer and they certainly didn't pass on any information about where he was. They were a bit worried about the things he'd been telling me, I guess."

"Did you try the phonebook?"

"Of course," he said. "It was a silent number. I even ended up finding his old house but by then it was sold off to some other family. They didn't know anything. I stopped asking in the end and just got on with the job he left me to do."

"Collecting soulings?" Elanora asked, gathering her feet up under her.

"Yes." He stopped and turned away, scratching his neck. "Look, I said it wasn't simple." He stood up and circled the room, hands on his head. "You have a right to know. And I've blurted everything anyway. I don't just collect them, I take them somewhere," Ashden's eyes sparkled despite his reluctant manner.

"Somewhere where?" Elanora grabbed his arm.

"Somewhere...sort of...different."

"Where?"

He leant over and dropped his voice to a dramatic whisper, "That's the funny thing. I..."

An ear splitting scream suddenly rang out. Ashden rushed to the hall.

"Elanora, you'll have to go."

"What is it?" she asked, jumping to her feet.

Another scream. A woman.

"It's Mum. Look, I'll pick you up tomorrow before school and I'll tell you more about it." He grabbed her arm and bundled her to the front door. Elanora didn't mean to resist him but found herself weighted to the spot.

"Is she okay?"

Ashden's face was heavy. "She will be. She needs me."

His mother screamed again which broke into wrenching sobs. Elanora saw the door shut in front of her and every light in the house switch on.

### Chapter 7

Elanora walked to school by herself, her shoes and ankles wet from the moist fingered grass. The Scrubstone Community School gates opened onto a long rectangular slab of asphalt. Four timber classrooms to the right of the playground lifted their veranda skirts and stood on bare brick legs trying to avoid touching the dirt at their feet. The converted dormitory to the left functioned as the staffroom and library. It shut its eyes to all goings on, thick boards having replaced the glass thanks to one too many stray cricket balls and rocks. The teachers preferred it that way.

The old country school had once been some sort of institution way back in the distant past. There was history in this place but history bored all the students and the teachers were desperately escaping theirs, so the secrets of the school stayed boarded up behind the walls and within the rings of the great fig itself, which breathed unseen. Guardian of the gateway.

Elanora had given Ashden the benefit of the doubt all the way to the gates, but seeing him up ahead, walking past the classrooms to the Strangler, made her blood boil as if she was under its canopy herself.

"Thanks for remembering to get me," she yelled, storming over.

Ashden spun around. He squinted and raised a hand to scratch his head.

"I thought you were still home looking after your mum."

"I...I'm so sorry. I raced out of the house this morning so fast that I. I just forgot. I don't know why."

"I'll tell you why," she started, but her face grew hot and red and her hair flamed around her. A rim of tears sped along her lower lids. Elanora turned her back on him and bolted towards her hideout.

Her throat was tense and her breath hollowed out the path to her chest. She sat under the iron panels picking at her cuticles.

Ashden crouched at the entrance.

"Go away," she said.

"I'm sorry. I know I said I'd pick you up, but honestly I completely forgot. I knew I had to get to the gateway early but for some reason I messed up."

"Yeah well don't worry."

"You must have been excited to meet up," he said angling into the hideout.

_How about not sleeping a wink!_ Elanora thought and smiled without humour.

"Why did you say you could tell me why I forgot?" He was inside now, sitting opposite her on a log.

She slumped her chin into her hands. "I don't want to sound like a whinger."

"You won't," he said gently.

Elanora twisted the mane of the pony sitting in her lap. "It's not that I care, but I know I don't matter to anyone. It's not just you. I talk to people one day then they act like they don't even know me the next." She shrugged. "You at least get noticed, I get nothing. Half the time my own parents don't know that I'm there. I get my own breakfast, lunch and dinner most times."

"I know what that's like," said Ashden, patting one of her toys that reclined on a rock seat. He stared into its eyes. Alive and well. Immediately his face changed. He rubbed his jaw and spoke slowly.

"Elanora. When I look into this souling it's like I can see you better. And I think the same thing happened the other morning. I only remembered you when I looked into Eski. When I'm not with you you kind of slip my mind. Almost like the memory of you fades."

"Great!" said Elanora.

He closed his eyes and rubbed his lids with his fingers. "Elanora. Can I try something? Here, look at me."

He turned her face gently to his and stared into her eyes.

She'd never really noticed his eyes before. His irises were blue like hers but deeper and encircled by a ring of caramel. His pupils weren't black like night. They were black like a tunnel to the centre of the earth, with not a reflection to mark them. A warm scooping light entered her vision and travelled deep inside. The warmth spread and for a moment she was lit up inside and out. Seen for who she was. Seen and remembered and liked. Loneliness disappeared and her heart shed its cloak and allowed itself to stare back at the boy. In that instant she was connected to him, drawing him into her mind, her thoughts. _You are beautiful,_ whispered the light. He bundled up her hurts and drew them into himself, leaving her clear and fresh.

All too soon the light receded. "Wait," she said, but Ashden closed his eyes and the connection ended.

The smell of the bush and the earth under their feet filled the silent space between them.

"I won't forget you again," he said, opening his eyes. They gleamed.

Elanora couldn't look him in the face. She grabbed her ponytail and started plaiting it slowly.

"Will you come with me?" he asked, opening his palm to her.

She nodded.

Once outside, she took his elbow. "Did you just read my thoughts?"

He shook his head. "Just your spirit."

She opened her mouth to say something but closed it again and simply smiled showing white teeth like cloud streaks against a red sunset.

Neither could hold the other's gaze.

Elanora stood on the edge of the playground looking fearfully up at the Strangler.

"Of course this would be the way in," she said, her blood burning the front side of her body. Any closer and she would surely be sucked into its trunk, bones and all. She looked squarely at it. The trunk softened and she saw only a likeness to chocolate, smooth, comforting. Her heart beat faster, her blood now intoxicated.

"What's wrong?" Ashden asked.

"This tree. It does something to me. I've always tried to keep away."

Ashden took a step back. "Maybe we shouldn't go in. I only meant to explain more about it today, not actually go there."

His eyes searched her face and a taste of the light returned. "I really need to see it," she said. The blood heat rising. "If I'm part of that world then don't I deserve to go there?"

He smiled, "Yes, that's true. Who am I to keep you out?"

Elanora could no longer hear him over the rush of blood in her ears.

"Don't forget to keep holding your souling. As long as you've got that you can get through," said Ashden shifting his bag to the other shoulder. Elanora clutched the pony she had brought along even tighter.

"Are you ready?"

Elanora noticed his eyes were shining again. He took her hand with almost parental care and guided her towards the buttressing roots. But he needn't have offered guidance. Her body knew exactly where to go.

Behind the bulk of the trunk a figure crouched. His pockets bulged with a mixture of rocks and unripe fig fruit that he was collecting for ammunition. The approaching couple made him freeze. He still had sleep in his eyes and the appearance of someone who had slept rough. Been treated rough. He subconsciously rubbed the lump on the side of his head. Oscar Rindman pressed himself into the folds of trunk to hide.

Elanora's stomach dropped to her feet. Her blood rushed along every vessel in jubilation and for a moment her body became weightless. Exhilarated. Time faded to nothing and Elanora panicked as her body fought its proportions and condensed. Her limbs thickened and shrunk. The volume of blood swirled in her skin with no way of escape. Her memory, her thoughts began to rub away. The fierce pressure building in her veins finally washed the wasting out of her brain. Blood won and Elanora opened her eyes and blinked upon a new scene of total transformation.

### Chapter 8

She sat in a cavern the colour of whipped honey that had four winding tunnels leading away from it. The ceiling glinted with pale pink pin pricks of light clustered so tightly together they formed an iridescent screen above. The creamy walls radiated warmth, unlike rock or any earthly material. Elanora touched the surface. Her fingers left an imprint which sprang back moments later. It was velvety, like a dense mud cake or the surface of freshly scooped ice cream. Even the smell reminded Elanora of warm caramel and yet this couldn't be mistaken for a candy land of any kind.

"Are you all right?" a deep voice asked. She turned to Ashden. Instantly she wrenched her hand from his, scrambling backwards, eyes wide with alarm.

Ashden had vanished. At least, the Ashden she knew had disappeared and there in his place was a tall, muscular young man, olive skinned with tousled hair and eyes unnaturally alight. He was as far from the brow beaten boy of Scrubstone as torchlight was from the sun and yet she could see his same features, intact but perfected. His presence made her feel younger, smaller and more invisible than she had ever felt in her life.

"It's okay, it's me, don't worry. We haven't had a chance to talk much before we came so there are a few things I haven't mentioned. This place, this world is totally different to ours but I promise. It's still me. Come on. It'll be fine." He reached for her hand folding it lily like in his grip.

"But how old are you? You look like you're...a man," she said, unable to take her eyes off him.

"Not too old, I hope. I've tried to work out how long I've spent here but I don't think you age the same. There isn't an easy way to tell the passing of time. Altogether I suppose I could have been here for years, but I don't really know. All I know is that I kind of aged to this and this is what I always come back to. And when I go home I come out exactly as I left. It's taken a bit of getting used to, but I quite like it now. At least the getting older part."

_I can see why_ , she thought, raising both eyebrows. To go from downtrodden, gawky teen to glorious young man, _make that gorgeous young man_ , would be incredible.

"How come you let yourself get so beaten up at school all the time? Look at you! You're practically a man. How can you stand the way they treat you?"

"It's a choice I made. It kind of comes in handy for what I need to get done at home. How else could I get all that time off school, no questions asked?"

"At least I know why you wear such over sized clothes," she said pointing to his now snug fitting shirt and shorts.

He laughed, "Shoes are a bit tight though." Levering them off with his toes, he replaced them with a new pair waiting on a dug out shelf beside them. "That's a spare lot I use as decoys for the return trip," he said in answer to her inspection of a row of soulless stuffed toys beside the clothing. "Only you could spot the difference," he added and smiled, showing a row of perfect teeth. "Anyway, how was your trip through the gateway? The look on your face when we arrived was..."

"I don't know," she answered. "Strange, I guess. Does it always feel like you're turning into a baby? Because that's what it felt like."

"A baby? No. That's weird. First time might have just been a bit of a shock for you. Really, it's no problem. Next time you'll be fine," he added reassuringly. "I want you to look at this before we go," he said, directing her attention to the ground where she saw a diagram etched into the surface. There was a circle with a triangle inside touching at its three points. Inside the triangle were three smaller circles joined together. On the perimeter of the outer circle were three arrow points facing clockwise. She bent down and put her hand into the grooves to trace their path.

"What does it stand for?" she asked.

"It's the gateway. It marks our exit home. All we have to do to is stand in the triangle. To come in you need a souling with you, but to go back you don't. There are other symbols throughout the tunnels which are access points to other places and times. But if you go through one of those gateways, there's no knowing how it will affect your existence back home, in normal time. Instead of reappearing home the instant you left, you could come back a year, ten years, a hundred years later. You might come back the same age or fifty years older. You just don't know. Mr Johnson had a taste of it. He wouldn't tell me much, but he said it was the worst mistake of his life. I think that was why he didn't come here with me. So keep out of them. That's what I do. And that's what you're going to do."

_Thanks for the lecture_ , she thought. Lucky he was so much older now because she wouldn't have appreciated that tone had he been the Ashden of five minutes ago. "So Mr Johnson never came here with you? He just sent you on your own?"

"That's right. I've never been here with anyone else."

Elanora took a secret pleasure from that fact and wondered whether she might be a little less invisible in a place like this. But w _hy does he have to be so much older?_

The light was soft around them. Elanora caught Ashden gazing at the wall, blinking slowly, peacefully.

"Ash, what's wrong with your eyes?"

His hand came to his fringe and dragged it aside. Beneath it, his eyes were alert. "My mum used to call me that; Ash," he sighed. "In the outside world I can't read signs, can't see faces at a distance, can't track a ball easily or read fine print. I was born with defective retinas. Instead of lying flat they're bumpy which makes the picture being sent along the optic nerve break up," his eyes met hers. "That's what's wrong."

"Oh. I'm sorry. It must be hard."

He shrugged. "Well, it's a pain, but nothing you can do about it. And once again, it provides an excellent excuse for being out of school and getting my real job done. Anyway, the colour here feels really soothing. I can read for hours without a problem."

"You read in here?"

He laughed, "Come and see."

After a lengthy walk through the tunnels they arrived at a chamber. Carved out at intervals around the perimeter were rooms of various sizes and shapes. Elanora thought she detected a hum coming from them. A faint song that disappeared the moment you tried to focus on it, only to return when you stopped.

"This is extraordinary!" she said circling round to view each room. "What is this place? It's like toy heaven! Is it toy heaven? It's incredible!"

Each room had been decorated a particular theme and was the home of a whole collection of soulings. One was a jungle, with thick rope vines and paper leaves sprouting from sculptural branches. A painted waterfall on the wall reflected light as if it really did ripple into the river where elephants stood stout and proud and a tiger watched from behind cardboard foliage.

The next was a farmyard with paling fence, straw filled pen, painted lily pond, a ramp leading to a hen house and a roll of artificial turf. Farmyard toys nestled among the props enjoying a mural of open fields and hills.

There were six rooms in all; nautical, space, circus, play room. All hand crafted and exploding with colour and comfort, all filled with soulings contentedly passing the time and evidently enjoying each other's company.

Elanora skipped back to Ashden who was emptying his bag of new soulings. _Must stop skipping_ , she noted to self.

"Go and pick up one of them," he told her.

Spoilt for choice she went into the farm yard and chose the first pony she saw. It had an unexpected weight about it. The fur was firm as if supported by flesh and bone. She squeezed gently and was sure she detected a quiver of muscle. Its face was alert and bright eyed and its plush body was warm to the touch.

"It's almost like he's alive! I mean moving alive. Feel him. He's solid. It's like he's ready to prance about." Elanora laughed and galloped the pony through the air. _And less galloping!_

"I know, I know. Look out or he will!" Ashden picked up a nearby pig. "This guy could do with a serious workout." He walked it back to its place in the farm and sat down on the lawn, legs stretched, leaning back on his hands, as if enjoying the fresh country air. "This is mad isn't it?" he sighed.

Elanora sat beside him, resting the two ponies together on the grass.

"So what is this place really? Are we underground or something?"

Ashden's nostril flared as he exhaled. "I wish I knew."

"You really don't know?"

"Well it's not like I can ask anyone. I'm the only person here. I'm the only person I know who knows about it." He crossed his legs and picked at a fingernail, frowning.

"Anyway, this is what I do. I spend as much time back home as I can, going as far as I can to rescue soulings and bring them here. All I know is that when I get them here, they're happy. If they stayed out there, they'd be miserable. From what I've observed, when they get separated from the person who made them, they can never be happy. And nobody sees it. They're a soul trapped in a body that can't move. That has no way to express itself. How bad is that!"

Elanora wanted to put her arm around him. "And you do that all by yourself, for no other reason than that you want to?"

"Want to, have to. There's no difference in the end. Believe me, I've thought about it."

"So no-one makes you?"

He shook his head. "I could stop whenever I wanted."

Elanora distracted herself from wanting to hug him by looking once again around the cavern. "What about the rooms? How did they get here?"

"I made them. The soulings spend so much time here that I thought it would be good to make it interesting. Stimulating. I mean, they are alive."

"So for no other reason than that you wanted to."

He shrugged. "I guess I'm best at making things. That's the way I help." His voice trailed off and he stared down at his shoes. "Come and I'll show you some more."

"Should I find a room for my pony to stay?" she asked, gazing wistfully at her souling, Peggy.

"No, she's got you and she'll be happier with you back home. But you can leave her here while we have a look around, if you like. She'd enjoy that."

As they left the chamber, Elanora noticed a stockpile of books near the exit. She stopped and gleaned the weighty mix of titles. Classics, modern, nonfiction, poetry.

"Right, the reading," he said.

"It's a huge collection. Have you read all these?" she asked, picking up a copy of Great Expectations.

Ash nodded.

"It's a mixed lot," she said, running a finger down Dickens, Shelley, a plethora of modern writers. "Oscar would have a field day if he knew about these!" She glanced up at him to share the joke and was struck again by how tall he was. How strong.

"Come on, there's more to see."

Elanora followed Ashden further along the network of tunnels. There were no shadows anywhere as the light filtered warmly from all directions. Ahead came the gentle lap of water. Around the next turn another cavern opened up, spread with an embroidered blanket of water rippling peacefully to their feet. It was aquamarine and miniature beads of light sifted through it to surface like white stitching and lacework. At the water's edge, tiny ripples lapped against the shore which, when Elanora knelt upon it, was completely and perfectly dry, like magic sand from a toy store that repelled the presence of water.

"Is it okay to touch? Can I drink it?"

"You must drink it," he replied. "This water is all you need to live on while you're here. Try it."

Elanora scooped some into her hands. "It's still blue," she marvelled, allowing the first handful to fall in droplets back into the pool. She scooped again and drank till she was satisfied. "It's really sweet," she smiled, "like nectar."

Ashden poured the water onto his cut, "That's better."

"Magic water, hey?" she said watching the angry taint leave his arm and the wound clear. He grinned at her.

"How did you do that anyway?"

"Oh, I...put my hand somewhere I shouldn't have. My own stupid fault. Just a cut."

She nodded but saw his face blanch.

"Listen, Elanora..."

"Does it lead anywhere, this lake?" she interrupted.

"I don't know." He tugged at his hair then pulled her up from the shoreline to continue the tour.

The tunnel angled upwards and before long they arrived at another cavern. An old wooden cart was propped at the entrance with a collection of backpacks and crates stacked alongside. Inside was a stained glass ceiling giving the room a reverent, inspirational air. A closer inspection revealed that it wasn't glass at all but coloured cellophane carefully cut and fixed to the surface. The natural light from the roof made them shine in glorious colour as if the sun blazed behind. Wrapping around the room were rows of shelves dug into the cakey walls. Rings of soulings sat gazing up at the ceiling or at them.

Elanora stared suspiciously along the rows trying to catch the source of movement in the corner of her eye. She picked up one of the soulings, nearly dropping it in surprise. This warm blooded, heavy bodied bear lifted its paw and waved at her, smiling with its little stitched mouth. She swung round to face Ashden, eyes saucer wide.

"Yes, here it is a bit different," he answered with a laugh, picking up one of the soulings which squirmed in delight. "These guys have been here for a very long time. Before I came. I think, the longer they stay here the more alive they become. They kind of change."

Slowly Elanora let her eyes sweep the room and saw the gentle movements of the soulings. They couldn't walk or crawl around but they could raise an arm or turn their head. Ashden was absorbed in them; shaking paws, rubbing ears. _Maybe he would suit this place better if he still looked like the gangly Ashden_ , she thought. _But now, as he is... He really doesn't seem like the king of toyland._ Yet there he was, intent on caring for creatures that couldn't do anything for themselves. Rescuing them from loneliness, providing them with homes and entertainment. And now hanging around with a kid! _I wish I would hurry up and grow_.

They were some way through another tunnel when Elanora remembered to ask, "Your mother, Ash, what was wrong with her yesterday?"

"That? It's the shadows. The darkness," he said and his voice caught as in times past. "It was night when Dad disappeared and she still has nightmares about it. But she doesn't have to be asleep. I make sure I'm always there from the afternoon on, just in case."

"Is that why you're always going through the gateway during school? Which is why you've got the toys with you! I was wondering why you didn't just go after the bell."

"Now you know," he said. "And that's why I need to tell you something else." Ashden leant against the wall and clenched his jaw several times before continuing. "My mother really isn't well. Before I found out about you I'd made a decision."

Elanora's stomach clenched as well.

"I decided to give this a break. I need to concentrate on getting Mum better." He pushed off the wall and started heading back.

"But, now I'm here. I can help," she responded in alarm, tripping over her feet to catch him.

"It's crossed my mind. But there's more to it."

"Of course," she said slapping her arms against her sides.

"Elanora, you are new to this. I've been doing it for years. I can't give Mum all my attention because I'm always out collecting soulings or doing things to fix this place up."

"Well, I'll come by myself."

"There's one other reason I need to stop coming for a while and it applies to you too. Actually, I meant to tell you before we came, but with all that forgetting-you business it slipped my mind."

The tunnel turned sharply and with sudden force, Ashden pushed Elanora hard against the wall. Elanora shrieked and clapped her hands to her mouth.

"Stay back!" he whispered as loudly as he dared.

### Chapter 9

The light dimmed and a chill swept along the ground and up their legs. Elanora breathed lightly. Ashden inched forward, hand against wall. In front of them and strewn all around, were the savaged remains of soulings. Their furry skins ripped apart. Thick wads of innards, forced out of limbs, collected in clumps on the floor. The sweet smelling souling blood pooled like syrup; blood that had generated in their changing bodies. But worst were their heads. Torn and lifeless. Eyes round in fear, staring blankly at merciless enemies. Threads bared and stitches pulled. Four faces lay peeled and empty in the fading light of the tunnel.

A moan escaped Ashden's white lips. Anger flared in his eyes but when he finally turned to Elanora, there was only fear.

"Who did this?" she asked.

He shook his head. Words stuck on his tongue.

"It's okay, I can help," said Elanora gently. She took the bag that still sagged over his shoulder and began putting the souling remains into it. "Maybe we could bury them. Is that what you do here?"

Ashden stayed quiet and helped, keeping a watchful eye ahead. When the remnants were collected he leant in close and spoke in a strained voice.

"That thing I haven't told you? This is it."

Elanora nodded.

"I didn't think there was anything to worry about as long as I was careful, but there's been a change since I was here last. There's danger. I'm sorry," he shook his head again. "You'll be okay, but let's get out of this place before we talk." He looked hastily into the darkening tunnel and took her cold hand in his. "Stay close."

They walked back towards the light but, like a rainbow, the closer they approached, the further it moved illusively ahead. Behind them the darkness deepened and an unwavering note sounded like a war cry in the distance.

"There are other creatures down here," he explained urgently. "They look like animals, like your average family pet. They come and go in the distance and I rarely ever see them, but there are other ones, darker ones."

A shudder ran on icy feet up every vertebra in her spine. "Do you think it was them who killed the soulings?"

Ashden nodded. "Years ago when I first came, I ran into two of them. I know they hate soulings."

"How did your arm really get that cut?" her voice wavered.

Ashden's cry interrupted any reply, "Run!" he yelled and half dragged her away from the growls and scratching behind them. They darted through tunnels making new turns that had Elanora bewildered.

From a passage ahead the air crackled, scattering light in their direction. A high pitched chorus of yapping and screeching followed and a scruffy brown dog and ginger cat bore down on them, fangs exposed, coats bristling. Ashden dived out of their way toppling Elanora to the ground.

The animals continued at full pelt into the darkness, swallowed up out of sight but not of hearing. Blistering shrieks filled the tunnels as the combatants met. Claws, nails and teeth, bit, slashed and swiped.

Ashden drew Elanora to him.

"They looked like Ginger and Scrufkin," she said.

"They did," he admitted, lifting his chin from its protective place over her head.

"Come on, we've got to move."

"We can't leave them!" she said grabbing his shirt.

"Why else would they be here except to protect you from some threat they know about," he half shouted. "They're your animals! Come on!" He dragged her again. Lightweight as she was he had a hard time getting her to follow. The yowls in the darkness stilled. The shadows remained but didn't increase.

"Why don't you fight them?" she asked as he pulled her into the light.

"I don't fight." Ashden replied through gritted teeth. "You think I should have come down here with guns and knives? You don't know anything about it." His eyes flashed and his cheeks reddened. He turned away and rotated on the spot with his hands on his hips, exhaling loudly. "If I fight I get killed. Who looks after my mother then?" Elanora saw the muscles tense in his neck.

"See this?" He pointed at the fading scar on his arm. "One of those dark animals did this because I touched its shadow. That's what happened last time I was here. And that was my fault. I touched the shadow. I hadn't even seen a shadow down here for years. But now they're back. And they're dangerous."

A muffled whimper sounded behind them.

"We've got to go," he said.

"Wait!" she pleaded and ran back despite his protest. Not far behind limped Scrufkin on blood streaked legs. When he saw Elanora he wagged his tail.

"Hey boy, come here. It's okay. Whatever are you doing here? Oh you're so brave. Are you hurt? Oh yes you are, you poor thing." She stroked him as he licked her face. "Where's Ginger, Scruff? Is Ginger okay?"

Scrufkin stopped squirming , his ears drooped.

"Let's go back and get him!" she cried and started running again. Ashden grabbed her school shirt and Scrufkin barked furiously, blocking her way. The earnestness in his face brought her to a halt and tears burnt the back of her eyes. She picked him up and buried her nose in his fur.

"We've got to get you out of here. I don't think it'd be a good idea for them to know someone who can make soulings like you can is wandering around the tunnels. I don't know what I was thinking, bringing you here."

She stood in the passageway skinny and small. Her red hair escaping the plait, framed her face like a flimsy mane.

"Come on, we're leaving," he said.

Elanora planted both feet defiantly on the ground. "Not until you tell me everything."

Ashden wiped his brow and scanned the shadows. Briefly he met her eyes. "I need to keep you safe," he said.

Her heart stirred and her look softened but she remained steadfast.

"Okay, but I'll only tell you if you keep moving."

Elanora took a step forward as down payment for the facts. Ashden took her arm and pressed on, Scrufkin in the crook of the other arm.

"Back when I first came through the gateway and started wandering around, two of them attacked me. There was so much fur that I couldn't make out what sort of beast was pinning me down. He asked me how many soulings I'd made. Only he called them replicas."

"They talk?"

He nodded. "I told him only one. I remember the first one bawling out, 'the liar, the traitor'. I thought I was dead. The other one, some sort of wild cat, took the souling I was carrying and ripped it to shreds. 'Stay out of the shadows,' they said. Then they left. I decided to do just that."

"I can't believe that you came back here after such a scare," Elanora said.

Ashden repositioned his hold on her arm. It was gentle. "This place draws you in. I would've thought I'd stay away too, but I came out filled with purpose. I couldn't stay away. And there were the soulings to consider. But I stayed to these main areas, the ones I've shown you. Until now they've been safe. But it seems the beasts aren't happy keeping to their own part of the tunnels, they're taking over ours. We're going to have to move all the soulings back to my house till it's safe," he finished, sliding his hand down her arm to find her hand.

"That's a lot not to have told me," she said.

Scrufkin stiffened in Elanora's arm and issued a warning growl. He licked her chin, imploring her to hurry. Ashden and Elanora ran, the bestial growls growing louder as the gap between them and the darkness grew smaller. He tossed the bag of torn soulings from his shoulders into the corner.

"Hurry! Here!" he shouted and pushed Elanora so that they both sprawled into the gateway. Impulsively, Elanora scrambled out to catch Scrufkin who had leapt from her arms a second before they fell.

"I won't leave him!"

The passageway smudged over and merged into the morning sun dappling through fig leaves. Scrufkin was gone and the fearsome sounds silenced. Elanora too was gone and Ashden sat between the fig tree roots...alone.

Oscar heard a set of footsteps pound the asphalt and braved a look around the trunk that had kept him hidden. Where was Banksy Baby going so fast? Who had he been talking to a second ago? Probably just one of his stupid toys, but he wasn't so sure. He sauntered from his hiding place, hands in pockets feeling a growing confidence now that he remembered he wasn't the worst off in the whole school. Ashden Jaybanks owned that title. And with pleasure, Oscar plotted his next attack.

Adrenaline coursed through Ashden's veins on his dash home. Where was she? Why hadn't she reappeared straight after him? Surely if she had entered the gateway after him there wouldn't be too much of a time lag. Why did she have to run off after a pet? Who knew what the implications were now? The fact she hadn't reappeared was a very bad sign. There was a real chance he would never see her again, especially not if the beasts got to her before he did. And her spirit! To part from that...

"Did you forget your lunch, Ash?" his mother asked dreamily as she sat overlooking the front garden.

"Yes!" he yelled, catapulting into his room to grab Eskatoria. He thundered out, the screen door slamming in his wake. His mother watched serenely as he flew by. A scruffy dog limped down the street after him. She saw him pick it up, release it in a panic and part ways at full speed.

Ashden's mother picked up the little donkey beside her and rotated it several times, her eyebrows almost coming together from the effort of a thought. Maybe it was time for another coat of paint.

### Chapter 10

Elanora scrambled frantically out of the gateway after Scrufkin. A rush of energy drained from her. Ashden had vanished. Scrufkin had vanished. She was alone without even a souling for company and the darkness loomed menacingly ahead.

She was about to step back into the gateway when something froze her to the spot. Her shadow, densely black and unnatural, spread in front of her. And rising up to consume it was another, with edges zigzagging in every direction. Her feet wouldn't move. The inky shadows moulded around her shoes and stuck her feet fast to the floor.

"Ashden!" she screamed before her face was forced into long fur that choked and bristled her mouth.

Elanora woke in a dimly lit cavern and blinked. Weak flaming torches on the walls greased the air with their oily smell and a shadowy hedge of bodies hunched in front of the only tunnel out. Over their heads, in the distance, a brighter light shone over a low wall woven from a conglomerate of used building supplies.

She was lying on her side on a soft rug. She rubbed her face against it, vaguely aware of the texture. "Must've hit my head," she murmured and rested back into her half dream. _No, something did happen_ , she answered, coming around completely. Her eyes snapped wide and she stared about unblinking at a menagerie of malicious faces surrounding her that ground teeth and slopped drool.

"Silence!" snarled a voice. All heads lowered and tails slipped between legs.

Hard, illuminated eyes pierced the dimness and all those eyes were on Elanora. Dogs, cats, birds, exotic species, a whole collection hungry to hate. Elanora's insides melted.

"You!" spat the voice. Elanora was nudged roughly forward by a dry nose and she rose unsteadily to her knees. High on a podium sat a sleek black panther with sapphire eyes, icy and impenetrable, staring down at her full of loathing.

"The human with the power to grant not just one life, but lives in abundance!" he roared, inciting a cheer. He cast his eyes quickly over several of the larger beasts whose looks implied a thinly veiled scepticism.

His voice dropped to a threatening purr. "We know what you are. We know what you do. We have been waiting for you." The panther beamed at his followers, licking his lips with satisfaction.

A round of chatter passed through the smaller beasts. Their looks revealed hope and anticipation. A congregation awaiting a miracle.

"I don't know what you mean," Elanora squeaked.

Suddenly a miniature ball of puffed up fur charged at her, jumping at her chest, flashing tiny razor teeth.

"Don't insult me with your ignorance," the panther continued scathingly. "Would an animal such as I waste any breath on a being like you if I didn't know the truth already and have no other option? Don't make the mistake of underestimating me, child. The time for playing dumb is over for us all." There was a more confident roar from the assembly. Tails reappeared and beat the air.

A Siamese cat sidled confidently up to the panther. "You see. We have proof," Panther smiled, putting his paw on the cat's shoulder.

Elanora remembered her. The skittish cat on her front porch. A spy the whole time. _Well, the offer of friendship is off!_ she thought angrily. "What do you expect me to do?" she asked, scanning the cavern for an exit.

"Only what you were born to do. Do that, and I don't expect we'll have to hurt you." The undertone in his purr quickened her pulse. "We need you," and at this admission he winced, "to bring my children into the fold... _all_ our children," he added, glancing at the larger beasts whose eyes were on him. He glided from his platform and paced closer.

"Sadly my own flesh and blood were born with no thirst for truth or knowledge." His muscles rippled as he walked. "I only want what every parent wants for their offspring. I want them to live life to its fullest, not as dumb and thoughtless beasts."

"I don't really understand," she replied, a sweat breaking out on her forehead.

"Life! A chance at a real life!" he pounced at her, his velvety face centimeters from hers. "You hand those lifeless toys of yours life without merit or reason. Tell me why my offspring should miss out. Why they cannot see the world as it truly is, while something not even of living flesh has its eyes opened. You will give my children only what they deserve. A soul for all our offspring!" His last words thundered signaling permission to cheer.

"Zsa Zsa!" he commanded.

The Pomeranian who had snapped at her previously, puffed over and led the way through the crowd of animals with his head high. They parted as he approached and he snapped at the heels of any who were slow to fall back.

While she strained to find an escape path, Elanora noticed that most of the dogs were purebreds. Terriers, Silkies, Poodles, Alsatians, Huskies. And the cats, mostly pedigrees. She had seen their sort in her own world. Elegant animals loved till they were overblown with self-importance and arrogance.

She was ushered between the rabble to a gate fixed into the back wall. Behind it was an enclosure where a group milled about, swinging their heads low, their tails tucked, under the scrutiny of the mob. Some cowered in the furthest corner, others dared to snarl. Some didn't know whether to attack or roll over. There were sores on their lips and fur missing from their flanks. But the closer she studied them, the more bizarre their appearance became. It was as if two different species had been pulled apart then glued back together again in all sorts of weird combinations. There was the long-bodied dog with whiskers, the dog with panther ears and feline tail, a scaly legged black cat with a forked tongue lolling sideways and a big cat with four fingers on each paw instead of claws. They were monstrous combinations of Panther and other.

"These animals aren't natural," she stammered, recoiling.

"Not natural!" the panther bellowed. "This is nature at its greatest. Species joining species in perfect unity and I, father of them all. Beautiful new beings birthed into existence right in our own tunnels. And you! You look down on them? You who fawns over synthetic copies of the magnificent beasts of the world. Mere toys with their plastic eyes and molded faces. Replicas!" he roared.

"Do you blink an eye when a toy presents to the world its artificial skin in its hybrid of colour and form? No! You tuck it into your bed and caress it. Don't think I haven't seen humans and their nauseating practices. What animal has a chance at human affection, at a soul, when that right is stolen by replicas! Our history tells of generations of animals abused, harnessed and bred for humanity. Yet still we show loyalty. What payment is there now for our sacrifices? Humans spend their soul making gift on undeserving rags that know nothing of suffering. And you dare label them as cute," and he shot the word from his mouth like a poisonous dart, "but look at my children as if they were monsters!" His whiskers twitched with murderous desire.

"You will love my offspring to life or I have no use for you. Or them," she heard him add under his breath as he turned to leave. His followers dipped their heads as he passed.

They may have deferred to the panther but the beasts showed no sign of deference to his offspring. She saw their contempt quite clearly once the panther's back was turned.

"This way!" ordered the Pomeranian, snapping at her heels.

With all eyes again on her, she was led to a tunnel next to the gated enclosure. Where she thought there had been no other exits, there proved to be many, hidden by the darkness of the walls. Unlike the tunnels she had just been in with Ashden, these were tarnish hard.

Elanora was pushed inside the narrow opening and stumbled to an awaiting cell. Inside the tight space was a bucket, a fur rug and one low table supporting a bowl of brown water. A lamp glowed feebly in the corner.

"Here's your kennel princess," Zsa Zsa scoffed. He trotted out as a hulking brown bear lumbered in, turned up his nose and promptly dropped to the floor with his back to her, assuming the position of guard at the mouth of the tunnel. Zsa Zsa turned his nose up even higher at the bear and squeezed past.

Elanora stared at her surroundings, twisting the tail of her plait in shaking fingers. She touched the walls of her cell. There was no give in them, just a solidified mass that sucked light and life in rather than shining it out. A foul smell coiled through the air from the opposite wall where another narrow tunnel led off. Figuring it was unlikely to contain anything life threatening, as it seemed clear she was wanted alive for the time being, she summoned her courage and went in to investigate, considering a danger seen was less terrifying than one unseen.

The tunnel was low and winding and the foul smell choked it up. Elanora held her breath at intervals and bent over, treading slowly. After forty slow paces she entered another cavern, reeking of wet dog and unclean bedding. There was a trough of brown water on the side and dirty straw stacked in piles. Just as she wondered about its occupants, there was a creak and a crack of wood against stone and a gate opened allowing all the malformed creatures from the enclosure to be herded in. The gate bolted shut.

Now she was standing in the middle of their territory, their den. They sensed her fear and circled about, sniffing, agitated by her presence in their domain. Elanora's legs shook, her hands trembled. She backed back into the tunnel and back to her cell, away from the mutant creatures whose manic eyes chilled her blood.

She leant against the hard wall and slid to the ground expecting to be lunged at and taken by the throat. Instead, the giant bear in the passageway shifted its haunches and shook its coat, fur filling the air.

They're definitely not from my world, she thought of the offspring, and I doubt if I could love them into life even if I wanted to. Which I don't!

Elanora determined then and there not to love a soul into any of them, whatever that truly meant, no matter how much pressure the panther put on her, nor how sorry for them she felt. She wasn't about to use her powers to help that murderous panther. Besides, they're not even real animals! At least I know what a toy is! she shouted in her head. Her thoughts made a racket inside her skull as they bounced around.

Did every human have the ability to create a soul? Why could she create more?

The stench of her prison filled her lungs like something fibrous.

The minutes ticked by soundlessly but for the breath of beasts.

Coldness seeped into her skin.

Hours dragged. Hunger gnawed.

What if she never found a way out?

What if no-one came to rescue her?

What if no-one noticed she was gone?

Not even Ash.

### Chapter 11

"Barker was right. She's not the One. They'll have her eaten before the week's out and Panther cast Outer World."

"They'll want to fatten her up some first. Have you seen her bones? Poor pet."

"Ha ha! At least we'll be rid of those mutant offspring of his. Filthy mutts!"

"Imagine, two failed leaders, all because they each brought in the wrong One!"

"Shh, that old bear's waking up."

It wasn't difficult to fake sleep when her muscle tone had gone and her pulse ran slow. Elanora waited till the dogs left her cell before reaching for the semi-filled vial of blue water they had left her. It was better than the murkish brown stuff that was her usual fare, but hardly enough to repair the damage it was doing. The dogs' conversation puddled in her head. She strained it for information but there was nothing new. They didn't seem to care what she overheard anymore. She was no threat to anyone except maybe the panther.

Elanora scratched another tally mark into the wall. They didn't represent days because they were immeasurable here. They only indicated sleeps and she counted up to thirty, thirty-five, forty. Judging by the wasting of her body, whatever length of time it was, would soon prove fatal.

"Good morning Bear...Good morning Elanora," she conversed listlessly. A shudder in his coat was her only acknowledgement from the giant bear whose back was always against her.

She dipped a finger into the blue liquid and ran it over the ulcers in her mouth, dipped again then over the sores on her legs.

Zsa Zsa pranced into the cell and snapped at her knees. "You aren't in the enclosure yet! Hurry along. Panther's patience is running out with you. If you cannot change his offspring soon...let's just say, I wouldn't like to be you." He swung his head disdainfully from side to side, sneezed then pranced out again, saving a final snap for the snout of the guard bear.

Elanora took a swig of brown water and gripped the bench as her head swam. While her face was still puckered, she stumbled to the enclosure where the offspring awaited the day's session.

"What tricks are you teaching them today?" snarled a beast over the gate.

"We know time wasting when we see it!" murmured another.

"You think it's easy giving mutants a soul?" she fired back, scratchily. "Why don't I try it on one of your pups? I'm sure that'd be easier. Tell Panther you want to bring me one of your own. Tell him his are useless!"

The beasts dropped their paws from the gate and rejoined the team building the barricade, looking nervously about for the panther.

"That's right. Too scared aren't you? You better hope I am the One!" she screamed after them, slumping to the floor to catch her breath.

Over time the smirks of her guards had been replaced by scowls and threatening growls. Now there was contempt. If she didn't grant souls soon then Panther would lose face and she was meat. It was just a question of how long the panther was prepared to wait.

She sat in the centre of the enclosure, staring into the darkening cavern beyond and imagined her escape. Any idea of going over the gate was ruled out by the constant presence of guards. Even if she made it past them there were all the other animals working on the barricade to negotiate. Maybe she could make a deal with one or two to exchange a soul for their children for her freedom. That might work, but of course wasn't that as bad as granting a soul to an offspring?

The offspring hung their heads whining from their peculiar muzzle mouths.

"Go on, fetch," she said and tossed a stick which landed barely past her feet. The aging pups shuffled around her flipping the stick and displaying their tricks. Finally she looked up, granting them her attention. Their large eyes stared, whiskers quivering.

"You really want some love, don't you guys?" she said, patting their hides. "I'm afraid kindness is all I've got for you." An offspring she had named Buttercup because of a yellow patch under her chin, licked her hand and nuzzled her neck.

"And that's all you need, isn't it? Not knowledge or insight or wisdom. You are happy just as you are."

She continued the farce of training from her seat on the ground but her vision blurred and her throat hurt to swallow. The relentless clanking of tools and shifting materials bit into her head until it throbbed. She could keep up the charade no longer and stumbled back to her cell. Lying on the hard floor she rode the beat of pain under her skull. Soon it pulsed behind her eyes and although it made her nauseous, it also reminded her of another pulse that had once delved into her eyes. Ashden's connection had reached right inside her and made her glow. "You are seen. You are loved. I will never forget you." Had he said that? The recollection consumed her and bit by bit she became aware that her head was now pain free.

After another unsettled sleep, Elanora scratched her forty-first tally mark into the wall. She sat back on her knees reviewing each stroke, considering how faint they were getting. This latest one had barely made an indent. Maybe I should have been writing something deep and meaningful all this time instead of depressing tallies, she thought, for she hadn't strength enough left to write anything important now. No famous last words.

Her hair was lank and the pieces of her long plait fused together so that it hung like a knotted tail down her back. Her uniform was ragged. The brown water had sapped her of more minerals than it supplied and her skin was freckle free and preternaturally pale beneath the grime. If she didn't find a way out soon it wouldn't matter that the beasts would kill her, she was dying anyway. Her gums bled and her skin itched from daily wipe downs of the foul liquid. Any hope of escape was as faded as the tally marks. So too her ability to outwit the enemy.

After stirring from a daze with the marking stone still in her hand, Elanora crept over to the guard bear. Instead of giving her usual greeting she reached out and touched his luxuriant fur. No wonder he had once been loved. His whole body invited hugging. As her fingers sunk into his rich coat and she lost herself in the pleasure of a warm touch, the bear flinched and struck her away with his paw. She flopped back like a raggedy doll and lay there, drained. She didn't go into the enclosure that day. Nor the next. What did it matter?

Elanora finally roused herself when a plaintive whimper filtered through her numbness. One of the offspring was hurt. Drawn to the suffering she crawled into their den. It was Buttercup. There she lay, mostly wolf except for her panther black ears and cat tail, with deep gashes down her neck and across her flank. The other creatures turned miserably about in circles, keeping wary eyes on the gate. Several stepped closer only to retreat to the shadows.

"Poor Buttercup," she crooned, "Oh you poor, poor thing. What happened to you? Rest your head here." She stroked and soothed her brow and nuzzled into her yellow fur. For a moment she was transported to the warm comfort of her own bed. She imagined her soulings fur soft against her cheek and the wonderful love of another living being. She poured love into the wounded Buttercup whom she had kept for so long at a distance. Oh why did I wait so long? she thought. Here was love and friendship freely available. Here was the companion she had longed for all these wretched days.

Thus it was done.

Elanora woke with her arms still cradling Buttercup and the panther leering above her. "Well done, little Soulmaker," he said. "Well done at last."

An icy sweat broke over her skin.

"And it only took such a little push in the end," he purred and flicked his tail in a self-satisfied way as he sauntered off leaving footprints of blood. Zsa Zsa marched across and snapped at Buttercup's paws. She staggered up and limped after Panther, head down, tail dragging.

Elanora's bones were heavy. Like a body at the bottom of an emptied bath. Completely drained. She couldn't work out why her conscience gripped her. Listlessly, she dragged herself back to the dungeon, found the fur blanket and curled up on it.

### Chapter 12

One by one the creatures from the den skulked into her room. They sniffed respectfully almost drawing back when they noticed the huge bear in the doorway. Slinking low, again they crept closer. Toby pushed the water bowl forward with her muzzle. Sheckle crouched on his hind legs to lick her face while Izzie curled up at her feet. Sheckle's warm nuzzling at her neck brought a slight smile. They didn't need a soul to understand kindness.

With sudden force the bear sprang from his post and slammed his paw sideways, skittling them down the passage to their den like bowling pins. Elanora sat upright.

"Those foul beasts. No more!" the guard bear rumbled. It was the first time he had faced her. She hadn't known he could even talk. She shifted on her bed overwhelmed by the sight of so much fur.

"They weren't trying to hurt me," she said.

The guard bear searched her eyes. No animal had tried so intently to reach into her thoughts as he did. Too tired for defenses she left herself open.

The bear blinked and shook his massive head. "I am old and I am tired and a prisoner as much as you. I tell you this now because in you have a strong heart full of faith and love and you are the One."

Elanora's eyebrows furrowed. What is this bear talking about? This great lump that had ignored her, hit her and scared off the only creatures showing her any kindness? Curiosity was the perfect antidote to languishing and Elanora propped herself upright.

The bear checked the entrance to her cell and when he returned, lay down to talk face to face. His voice dropped so low that any passerby would mistake it for a grumbling snore, but when Elanora leant in she could make out every fascinating word.

"I saw what you did for that cross breed and how they tricked you into it. You gave a soul to a creature that possessed none. You truly are the One I had waited for." The fur stood to attention around his face as if his skin had shivered. "I remember my own Soulmaker. Her name was Grace," he said. "She found me in a cage with a ring in my nose, chained to the ground. She freed me from slavery to a circus master who dragged me from centre ring to cage before screaming crowds and brutal carnival workers. I owe her my life," he broke off. The past was a distant memory but it came with a sting that made his nose twitch.

"Grace cared for me, restored my health and granted me a soul. It was an awakening I will never forget. I saw the world anew. I...contemplated life for the first time. Beyond instinct and reactiveness." He cast his gaze down, his eyes troubled.

"Go on, Bear," she coaxed.

"One night there was a knock at the door but before she opened it she locked me in my room as a precaution, you understand. I was gentle with her but I owed no other human any kindness. Grace opened the door to my old master. I could hear his shouts clearly. She had taken away his livelihood; she had stolen what was his. I heard furniture falling and smelt the flow of blood. Breaking down the door took longer than I expected and I was too late to save her." Anger hardened his voice. "I should have chased him there and then, I should have crushed him in my jaws, but Grace was breathing her last and I needed to be with her."

"I'm so very sorry," whispered Elanora. She reached out her hand to touch the bear who had swiped it away only a day ago. This time he let her stroke his coat.

"My heart broke that night and all I could wish for was revenge. But I had lost my chance. By the time I was able to go on he was miles away. For days I wandered until I was drawn into the Timefold. It was a place of rest. There I met other animals who had also been granted soul life. Some, like me, had been broken. They turned to me to lead them. Together we stalked the humans who had hurt us and did what we had to do to stop them hurting others." He lifted his nose to the ceiling to keep a sudden spring of tears from leaking down his face.

"So you were their leader? What happened?"

The bear sniffed and lowered his head. "The panther came. Unlike most of us, his soul had been granted before his eyes had opened on this earth and he knew of no other existence, so he told us. He never talked about his Soulmaker. He liked to think he didn't have one. It made him feel superior. In any case, he came to us from outside full of stories about replica animals, stuffed misfits, toys that were being granted life by unsuspecting humans. There had never been toys of this kind before. Soft bodied copies of animals made in one small part of the world that, as Panther predicted, would soon cover the globe. To me they were of little concern. I saw smaller versions of myself increasing in number every year but I didn't pay it any mind. Until he told me the rest." The bear looked stricken.

"He told me I should be the one most full of hate for the replicas after what the humans did to my birth mother. He had heard this account from inmates in the zoo where he lived and the retelling of it unearthed a memory I had buried deep.

"My mother was tethered to the ground, he said, so a powerful man could shoot her for sport. But the man couldn't bring himself to shoot such a defenseless target so her throat was slit instead, as if that was nobler. It was true, what Panther said. I remembered it all. That powerful man held me in his arms right there in front of my dying mother as if he was my rescuer. My valiant father. And I did nothing. Cameras flashed and I did nothing. I should have ripped out his throat. But I stayed in his arms like a coward."

"You were only a cub!"

"I lost my chance," he growled, shaking his head.

"What Panther told me next changed everything. He said it was the mercy the man showed by not shooting my mother and saving me that turned the new toy bears into a sensation that everyone in the world wanted to own. No one was told how my mother was taken to with a knife. Only the photograph of me in his arms circulated and perpetuated the myth of his humanity. The toy bears were even named after him. Teddy. Such a disgrace!"

"No wonder you were angry. That's a terrible story," said Elanora taking his paw in her hand and scanning back through her memory on teddy bear history. Some of what he said rang true.

"My two mothers were murdered and I was a young bear full of vengeance. I led all the animals, Panther included, on a strike against the replicas."

"But why against the soulings and not the humans?"

"Soulings? Yes, I should use their name," he said, his muzzle lifted as if tracking a familiar smell.

"A Souling is a creature made in our image, so we believed we had the right to judge them. To destroy them. And we would do anything to stop them enjoying the happiness after life that we heard the humans talking about, while our own kind died without hope." He stopped and closed his eyes, his nostrils quivering. "No, Elanora. In fact, it was because they were easy to kill."

Elanora's eyebrows knitted tight but she didn't withdraw her hand.

"Then a strange creature came to our tunnels from another level who told of a powerful soulmaking child who existed in the Outer World. One who could make countless souls, not just one in a lifetime. If we could find that child then we could stop it creating soulings and make it create souls in our own offspring. What other way did we have of sharing eternity with our children?"

Elanora's eyes narrowed.

"I promised my followers this child, but I was betrayed by a boy who vowed to deliver the special one only to send me one as useless as himself. The panther used my failure to challenge for leadership. He stole my cubs and threatened to kill them if I didn't submit to him. I tried to fight, but he had amassed an army to do his bidding and I was taken prisoner. My punishment is to stay locked inside this festering part of the Timefold forever, no doubt. He wants his army to see me under his control. 'See how the Great Bear performs for his master'. He may as well have put a ring through my nose!" The bear snorted loudly.

"Where are your cubs now?"

"They are alive," the bear's face brightened. "As I said, I hated the soulings but mostly I hated the teddies. Until I met one...I was alone in my cell when an old teddy came in, scared but so brave. He had a message for me. He had found my cubs, Joey and Benbo, and led them to safety in the Outer World. He said he had to take the chance. He said he felt like family and couldn't stand by to see them treated so badly." A large tear slid down the bear's muzzle. "Like family," he sniffed.

Elanora smiled and squeezed his paw, losing her fingers between his pads. "Then why be so awful to me?"

"If you were the One I was looking for then I resented your presence. If you had only been brought to me when you were supposed to be, my own cubs could have received a soul and none of this madness would have begun. But over time, after watching you, my attitude has changed. I wanted to use you as much as the panther does. But you are kind. Your heart is gentle. You have challenged me as my teddy friend once challenged me. I have been wrong again. And now that I have seen how the panther manipulated you to bring his spawn to soul life, I fear it will happen again. I cannot allow any more of those mutants to be born anew. I have already seen the first one's initiation."

"What do you mean?" she asked anxiously.

"Your mutant beast was led straight from its den into the arena yesterday. In front of all the others it was blooded on its first souling."

Elanora looked at the floor. I did that. A wave of nausea hit her and she edged back to bed.

The bear continued in a voice as hushed as mist on a moor, "The panther's heart is a deeply hateful place, Elanora, as was mine. He is haunted by his past but instead of making it right, he digs himself deeper into his evil pit and incites others to join him. He comes up with reasons to excuse the killings. He has begun to tell his followers that by killing a replica, its human maker is now free to grant another life, maybe one for a cub of their own. Now he even thinks he works for the good of the one behind the Great Destination."

"Who's that?" she asked.

"Have you not heard of him? I thought that you might have. We know very little about your Soulmaker."

The back of her neck tingled at the thought that she too had been loved into life. But how much more did she know about that than the bear did?

There was a long silence in which the lamp flickered and the shadows danced.

"Bear?"

"Yes, child."

"What name did Grace give you?"

The bear made a choking noise and buried his face into his paws. Suddenly two wet noses poked in from the den, nostrils aquiver.

Smelling their rank presence, the bear rose to full height, lunging forcefully. Their noses withdrew in haste.

The bear softened and stared into Elanora's blue eyes. "You must be saved from this place. This time I won't miss my chance."

### Chapter 13

The snuffed out flame of the lamp was replaced by a sooty stream that snaked its way into Elanora's nostrils. She opened her eyes but the darkness permitted no sight. It had been an eternal stretch of lying in bed since her conversation with the bear. Following her creation of the soul in Panther's offspring, the beasts were an almost constant presence in her cell, monitoring her health, supplying extra vials of blue water, threatening her to get well and get back to that den. Having been tricked by him once, Elanora was suspicious of every sound and action in case the panther was behind it. Finding opportunities to converse with the bear had been limited and their feeling of being watched made them both jumpy.

The half breeds had also been creeping into her cell over the last few days dropping playthings at her feet and nosing them up to her face. Playing her own game now, she remained bed ridden, the bear keeping a watchful eye on them.

But now the acrid smoke had disturbed her and deep in the silence a faint scraping sound could be heard from under her bed. She inched her way over to where the bear lay and pushed her fingers into the reassuring silkiness of his fur but it was statically charged. He too was awake and restless. He raised his bulk and repositioned beside Elanora's bed. She held onto his coat and scanned the darkness for the enemy.

The scraping of metal against stone grew louder. Eventually it stopped and a small tapping started up.

Tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.

Elanora held her breath as the bear swiped her blanket aside. Silently, he moved the table to where he usually lay at the entrance to her cell and threw the blanket over it.

Elanora eyed it. Perhaps from a distance it might pass as his shape.

"Is this our escape?" she whispered into his ear. The bear didn't answer but he put his paw on her shoulder and smiled.

Tap, tap again.

He pushed Elanora behind him then pounded the floor with his huge paw. There was a crack and an avalanche of stony crumbs into a gaping hole. At the same moment the bear let out a bellowing yawn to mask the noise.

A single candle wavered in the settling dust down the hole, illuminating a small toffee coloured bear. He beckoned to Elanora with his free paw. She stared into her guardian's eyes, semi visible in the light.

"Go," he mouthed.

Elanora looked doubtfully at the size of the hole then at the bulk of the bear. She clutched his forepaw, "What about you?" He eased her hand away and held it in his paw before placing it over her heart. He used his claw to carefully brush some hair from her face. "Go," he repeated, as tenderly as a father.

Elanora shook her head refusing to move.

"Don't make me lose my chance, my last chance." Elanora swallowed hard and kissed his paw.

"I'll find your cubs," she promised, lowering herself into the shallow passage while one hand kept its grip on his paw.

"You find your freedom," said her friend, his eyes full of compassion.

Elanora's feet touched the bottom of the deep hole. Her eyes lingered on his face.

"She called me Jacub," he said through a film of tears. "My name is Jacub."

Elanora raised her hand from the bottom of the tunnel to touch his scarred nose.

"Thank you Jacub," she whispered, and poured her love into his heart until it hurt.

The great bear's head suddenly swung out of view at the sound of baying of dogs in the prison tunnels. Red light poured down the hole. Snarling and growling vibrated the walls.

The small bear waved the candle urgently.

"But my friend," she cried.

At that moment three teeth filled jaws squeezed down the hole so tightly that their bodies struggled to follow. They snapped inches from her upturned face. Pink tongues and spit filled her vision and she raised her hands protectively. Searing pain spliced her skin as the bear's enormous paw swiped overhead, skimming her flesh as it sought to collect the rabid jaws of the attack dogs. She heard them howl and thump on the wall of her cell. The small bear tugged at her sleeve.

"Run Elanora!" shouted Jacub. "Run!"

She stumbled after the little bear, heart throbbing in her ears, her hand bleeding.

The dug out walls fit tight around her. Wedged like this she could almost feel the savage bites of beasts at her heels. As hunched as she was, she gathered speed. Her heart froze at a thunderous roar that shook her bones. There was a splintering and groaning then the entire roof collapsed behind them. Were they through? Elanora gasped and sped up, kicking her feet spasmodically to fend off any would be attacker. Her fingers gouged into the floor to help propel her faster along the narrow tunnel. Further in they sunk, into the doughy walls. A soft light diffused about her face. Elanora's knees should have been scraping against hard stone but with relief she registered the cushiony softness of the tunnel. Ahead the little bear blew out his candle as the warm light from the walls shone through and glowed invitingly around them. They traveled along and up, around a sharp turn and down. The tunnel widened and Elanora glanced behind her. No trace of pursuit. No sound of pouring rubble.

Finally the twisting journey ended. They stepped into a bright cavern with the delicate caramel scent she remembered from so long ago. She leant against the wall with closed eyes to catch her breath. Please be all right, my friend.

### Chapter 14

The little bear smiled at Elanora. He politely waited until her eyes opened then shuffled behind her busy with a metal spoon taken from his waistcoat. He scraped at the walls, dug out lumps from the floor and collected enough plaster to patch up the hole from which they had just emerged. After smoothing over the area he brought out a bottle of brown liquid, the very same she had been drinking since her capture, took a sponge and mopped over the patch. Immediately, the honey colour walls browned like the crust of a crème brulee. The sound rang crisp and clear when the little bear tapped it for good measure with his spoon.

"There, now we can relax a little," he nodded, ambling off through the cavern further into more tunnels.

Elanora placed her hand on the seal.

The bear stopped and waited. "He will be happy now...that you live," he said.

She nodded, numbly. The weakness in her body returned. Her legs shook.

"Come," said the bear.

She followed silently as he led her through a honeycomb of tunnels into a small chamber. It had a homely glow and the bear guided her to a hollowed out bed rest.

"You need to drink and sleep," he said.

Her mind too blurred to argue, Elanora reclined on the bed, wondering where the blankets were, when her body sunk into the softness of wall, cradled and secure. The bear trotted over with a full glass of blue liquid. The healing water flowed swiftly through her. Along arteries, capillaries and back through veins, nourishing every organ. A sweet drowsiness coaxed her to sleep.

When she finally woke it was with a start. Several rounds of blinking were needed to reign in her memories. In front of her, the little bear stood offering another cup in his two paws. He had neat ears on each side of his furry head and a straight muzzle with a rectangular nose gently sniffing at the end. His arms were overly long compared to his legs and his paws were rounded, without claw or division. A seam ran right up his middle and as she followed it back to his face she noticed his two bright bead eyes set slightly askew but incredibly alert. If it weren't for his seams, a bit of worn off fur and his rounded paws, you could easily mistake him for a real bear.

A souling! Elanora sat up. She put her arms around the bear who deftly managed not to spill a drop from his cup. "Thank you so much for your help. I'm sorry I didn't thank you before."

"Don't mention it," he smiled.

"What's your name?" Elanora asked, charmed by his quaintness.

"Petsy," he answered, giving her the cup.

"Petsy, that's an interesting name," she said, before drinking and hopping off the bed.

The bear tilted his head and stared with concern at her hand. "One moment please," he said. "Let me look at that."

Elanora held it out obediently. Petsy pulled a handkerchief from his vest pocket, dipped it in the water and patted the wound. "What a nasty cut. Not to worry, this will do just the trick. No scar, you'll see."

"Stop!" Elanora withdrew her hand. She stared at the two channels already healing from the effects of the water. "I don't want them to go. Jacub..."

The bear appeared puzzled and scratched his chin.

"His paw only grazed me because he was saving me. I never want to forget." She covered the scar with her other hand and clasped it to her chest.

Petsy nodded, giving her a lopsided nod. He organised a small chair for himself and a large cushion for her and settled down at the table in the middle of the room.

"You saved me too," she added, joining him. "I'll never forget that. You're a souling, aren't you?"

"A souling. Yes."

"I'm sorry. It's a name I made up for toys, I mean creatures like you."

The little bear chuckled. "Oh no, my dear, you didn't make it up. It has been our name for a good many years."

"It has?" Elanora drank in contemplation. "Where is this place?" she finally asked.

"Why, this is the Timefold," he answered.

"That's what I thought Jacub said," she said, sliding a finger up and down the cup. "But where is it?"

Petsy patted her hand. "It is rather complicated." His face became so twisted as he thought about his answer that Elanora worried he might burst a stitch. She tried another question to put him more at ease.

"Petsy, who named you? Who was your Soulmaker?"

He rubbed a paw over his brow. "Some call me a Tiquity bear because I have been here for so long. In fact, I almost don't remember my life outside the Timefold. Petsy was the name I was born with. My Maker was a fine young woman, I can remember that. But I'm a little bit fuddled when it comes to all the details. I haven't thought about them for such a long time," he tsk tsked himself, shaking his head.

"I remember even if you don't," issued a squeaking voice from a cup sized hole in the cavern. Out popped the head of a tiny felt elephant. He was pale blue, about the size of an adult's fist, with a miniature set of tusks and an embroidered red saddle blanket on his back. He shook the sleepiness out of his head, setting the embroidery quivering.

"Oh yes, I remember it all. I don't know what's wrong with you, Petsy, that you find the simplest things so difficult to recall," the tiny elephant snorted, trotting over to Elanora's cushion.

"Who are you then?" she asked, lowering her hands for the elephant to board.

"Oh, that's Pin Pot, there's no forgetting that. A lot of squeaking and squawking for such a small creature, you'll see. Hardly anything important to say either," Petsy muttered good naturedly.

"Is that right, Petsy?" Pin Pot cried out in mock indignation. "And who told you about the girly getting all caught? And who told Jacub we'd be happy to help? Nothing to say indeed! I've been truly insulted."

"Come, come little friend, sometimes I'm just a grumpy old fellow. All right, you tell the little girl all about it. I wouldn't argue with a memory like yours," he smiled, giving the elephant a pat on the head, "although I still say I won that last round of blig jiggery and you owe me..."

Brrrt! The elephant trumpeted his loudest drowning out any talk of IOU.

"In a nutshell," Pin Pot began, "we were the first of the soulings, him and me," he pointed with his trunk. "Me first." The bear rolled his eyes, "Well, I was. And you next. Then on and on and on and on." His trunk swirled flamboyantly.

"Don't forget the nutshell or we'll be here all day," Petsy sighed.

"Our Soulmaker was the great lady herself. Lovely Maggie," he continued.

"Ah yes, Maggie," recalled the bear, nodding affectionately. "Amazing woman, she was. Overcame every obstacle in her way, and to be sure, she had her share."

"Did you say you were the first soulings?" Elanora asked.

"Yes indeed we were," said Pin Pot.

"And you've been here all this time?"

Petsy nodded, his face startled as if the realization had only just dawned. "We've been very busy," he said.

"Busy indeed! Where would all those soulings be without us? Maybe we would have liked to go strolling off and not bothering about helping the others get through," Pin Pot said.

Petsy put aside his cup and drew his paws together. "Not all of us should hurry to our destiny." He looked gravely at Pin Pot who nodded in solidarity.

Elanora's forehead creased.

"She doesn't know what we're talking about! She doesn't know a single thing!" blurted Pin Pot.

"I'm afraid I don't," Elanora admitted.

"I see," said Petsy, gravely. "Well, we shall have to explain. The Timefold is a passageway to the Great Destination to which those with souls are granted access when their bodies perish."

"When they die!" confirmed Pin Pot. "They go there when they die."

"Yes, that's right, thank you Pin Pot," said Petsy. "Dark hearted animals resent soulings being granted access to the Great Destination..."

"Let alone existing in the first place!"

"...and have always fought to keep them out. Sometimes the fighting is less, sometimes more. Pin Pot and I stay to do what little we can for those soulings who wait in the Timefold for safe passage. At first we helped people, like yourself. We showed them the way to the Great Destination and drew them maps. Once our limbs became strong and useful we carried the soulings across ourselves. When the fighting stops us, we look after them in their chambers." Petsy's eyes darkened. Pin Pot trotted over and petted his paw with his trunk.

"So, how long exactly have you been in the Timefold?" Elanora asked.

"Time is meaningless. We have aged enough to move and speak," Petsy replied.

"It's been a very long time," Pin Pot added with the telltale mark of tiredness in his voice.

"How do you know Jacub?" Elanora pressed on.

"He is an old friend," Petsy answered.

"An old friend who would want you as safe as sound. We must get you home," said Pin Pot, animated once again.

"Yes, safe and sound," nodded Petsy, rising from his seat. "Just draw your gateway symbol for us and we'll take you straight there." He took a sip of water and wiped his mouth.

Elanora rose bent backed in the room preparing to trace the symbol into the soft wall. She swayed. The blood drained from her face. Saliva rushed into her mouth tasting of rust. She could hear the soulings' voices muffled as if in a cardboard box being carried further and further away. Her vision darkened and senses dulled as if she was now in the box herself, under piling layers of earth.

### Chapter 15

Ashden hurled himself at the school gate, flinging his legs up and over the wire. She'll be all right, he repeated, I'll just go back and get her out. She's probably waiting at the fig, but his gut twisted the hope into knots. The bell still hadn't rung and the place was deserted. He took Eskatoria in hand ready to enter the gateway.

A pellet suddenly shot into the back of his head. Another smacked his cheek as he turned around to locate the assailant. Oscar Rindman and Mark Findle were in full charge, pelting him with fig tree ammo. He covered his face and made a quick calculation to see whether he could make the gateway before they got him. Hopeful, Ashden dived towards the forked roots, arms outstretched. But his feet were tagged, sending him off course. Oscar clambered over to pin him down, wrestling Ashden's arms to his sides.

"Let me go!" Ashden choked, struggling with all his weakened teenage might, but was no match for the sinewy Oscar.

"Now what do we have here?" Oscar grabbed the monkey and held it above his head. "I don't think you've introduced us to your new best friend? Oh he's a cutie, he is. I heard you having a lovely chat to him this morning right here under this tree. Who else were you talking to?"

"No one, there was no one. Get off me!" He shook his body.

"You're lying, I heard someone, a girl. Where is she?" Oscar's tone became hard.

"No one, I was just talking... to the toy," he pleaded.

"Mark, do you believe him? I don't believe him. I know what I heard."

"Here grab this!" Oscar flung Eskatoria to Mark who missed and picked her up off the dirt. "Do you think we can get Banksy Baby to talk?"

"Don't be stupid!" Ashden shouted.

Oscar's chest swelled. He shoved Ashden's head into the ground with one hand while reaching for his back pocket with the other. Ashden seized his chance and heaved Oscar's chest. There was a flailing of arms and bodies rolling about under the fig until Ashden managed to slip free and bolt to Mark. Mark threw the monkey over his head back to Oscar who was still a good catch even on his back. And with one tightening fist he squeezed Eskatoria. With the other, he grabbed her furry head, wrenching it off in a violent twist.

Ashden yelled but his body was paralysed. The roots of the fig tree straddling Oscar swelled unseen, bulging and trapping his head in its wedge. From above an overarching branch released a smooth flow of bark from its underside which poured like brown toothpaste over his chest, dividing over his sides like an external rib cage. Oscar froze, emitting one short high pitched scream as the entire top half of his body became encased in a wooden prison.

Mark Findle turned tail and ran.

Adrenaline gushed lava-like from Ashden's hands to his heels and he raced in, grabbing Oscar by the feet and pulling. He couldn't make him budge so turned to the viscous limbs and heaved at them. In their pliable state they stretched just enough for Oscar to wriggle down. His hair caught in the swollen roots and the burn of detaching strands made him howl.

"Hurry!" Ashden gasped, tugging at the wood.

Oscar finally pulled his head free from the cage where Ashden saw Eskatoria lying in pieces. He plunged his hand through the wooden ribs to snatch her free, then leapt back in time to watch the trunk swell and solidify on the ground.

It was gone.

The gateway had disappeared under the newly buttressed roots of the fig.

Oscar and Ashden stared aghast at the tree. With mechanical precision, they turned to face each other.

Oscar's face was white but the way he pumped his feet on the ground brought a stain of colour back.

"I know, I don't expect you to believe me," Ashden said.

They were a safe distance from the fig now but Oscar still looked rattled, his blond hair sticking out at odd angles and his eyes overly round. He took a few jogging steps and checked there was no-one nearby. He bounced on the balls of his feet then gave in and swung back to face Ashden. "Let me just get this straight," he said. "You want me to believe that that tree attacked me because I killed a toy in its territory? What, it's a pacifist or something?"

Ashden shrugged in agreement, wondering what had possessed him to say anything. If Oscar hadn't kept asking why as if he really wanted to know, he wouldn't have bothered. Was he expecting the guy to change?

Oscar continued, "So I'm supposed to believe you even though you're the greatest psycho in this town? You can't prove it, can you?" he asked disdainfully. "If it wasn't for what you did back there, I'd knock your teeth in right now."

"Whatever."

"You know what I think? I think that tree just sent down some branch at the wrong time. It's so old and so big, that's probably just how it grows. I was in the way. I mean look at all those roots! So, yeah, I reckon it was just coincidence. There'll be something about it on the Net for sure."

"Well go and look it up then."

Oscar stared at Ashden. The computations in his head weren't adding up and Oscar was finding it hard to remember where he and Ashden stood with each other. He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Who was with you this morning?"

Ashden spread his fingers over his face and pushed, trying to relieve the pressure behind his eyes. "It was Elanora Lacey."

"Who's that?" Oscar quizzed.

"In year seven."

"What school?"

Ashden was puzzled. "Our school; year seven."

"No she's not. As if I wouldn't know."

"Yes, with long red hair. Blue eyes."

"Nup... Sorry Banksy, crazy again! There is no girl and there is no living toy loving killer tree. But if you want me to test that theory," he added, "why don't you bring another toy in tomorrow?"

"And you can bring your friend Mark again. Couldn't leave your best mate out of it."

Oscar's eyes flashed and his fists balled. "They were right what they said about you and mental Johnson," he yelled back over his shoulder as he ran off to settle a score.

"And a thanks might be nice!" Ashden rubbed his neck and walked back down to the fig where the roots had folded over the gateway. He sat on the wood. He took Eskatoria from his pocket and stroked her broken pieces. There was no magical transportation.

Nothing.

How was he ever going to get into the tunnels again?

And Elanora.

How would she ever get out?

### Chapter 16

Ashden opened the front door after spending the morning racking his brain for a solution and was nearly bowled over by the change. A vermillion wall beside an aqua wall leading onto a hot pink wall drew him into the kitchen that his mother was busily painting orange.

"Wow," he exclaimed without the level of enthusiasm he normally displayed.

His mother smiled gently at him and dipped her brush back into the pot.

"Old Reg'll be pleased. He was asking after you the other day." He hadn't bothered to tell his mother earlier about Reg and small talk may as well occupy his mind for a while until he could get his head together.

"Reg," she paused mid stroke. "He was kind to us."

A light flashed in Ashden's head, "Did Reg know Mr Johnson, my old teacher?"

"Reg used to take you to school," she gazed off dreamily before resuming painting.

Ashden couldn't believe he'd never thought about the connection before. Reg would be sure to know what happened to Mr Johnson. He'd asked him at the time of course, but Reg had made out he didn't know anything. Had he just been trying to protect him? Perhaps Ashden's psychiatrist had got to him and warned him against allowing contact. It wasn't impossible. Ashden knew his school principal had warned everyone about Mr Johnson filling his head with crazy ideas at such a vulnerable time in his life.

"Mum, I'll be back later." He had no time to explain, not that he would be required to. Once again he left the screen door slamming in his wake.

Ashden knocked on the brick red front door of Reg and Elizabeth Woodburn's house. "Come on, come on," he muttered.

The door swung wide and Elizabeth's delighted smile welcomed him into their immaculate cross stitched home. "Why Ashden Jaybanks, how are you, my boy? Haven't you grown? Do come in, dear. Reg, look who's turned up on our door!"she called to the back rooms and out shuffled Reg.

"Ashden, good to see you again. Got the taste of butterscotch, have you?" he chortled and sat down on the couch.

"Take a seat, dear, and I'll fetch you both some tea." Mrs Woodburn headed off to the kitchen while Ashden launched into the reason for his visit.

"Mr Woodburn. I hope you don't mind me dropping by, but I wanted to ask you something."

"Of course not. Here have a butterscotch. You know, it's a coincidence you came by. I was only talking to Dr Holstearn yesterday at the hospital about Charlie Portman who used to go school with your father's best friend, ah, what's his name? Roger, yes Roger, now there's an interesting story."

Ashden clenched his teeth. "Oh really."

Mrs Woodburn popped her head in the room, "And what about some scones? I baked a fresh batch this morning."

"Um, sure. Thanks."

"And don't you sit there and listen to all Reg's stories. You'll be falling off your chair asleep before I get those scones on a plate. You hear that Reg? No stories."

Reg made a face at Ashden as she left, suitably chastised. "Sorry, lad. What did you want to see me about? Need some help with your mum?"

"Not quite, Mr Woodburn. Well, sort of. Mum said you knew my old teacher, Mr Johnson."

Reg shifted in his chair as if he couldn't quite get comfortable. He hesitated, popped a butterscotch in his mouth and answered over the click of the sweet against his teeth, "Yes, that's right."

"Then, do you know what happened to him? I tried to find out when he left but no one told me anything. I really want to get in touch with him and if you know his address I'd be really grateful if you could give it to me." He tried not to sound too frantic or pleading.

"You say you never knew what happened to him?"

"No, just rumours that he went a bit mad, or that he got hurt and had to leave."

Reg crunched his lolly thoughtfully. He rubbed his chin and took another one from the jar.

"Ashden, your teacher, Bill Johnson, hasn't had the best run of luck. People kept things quiet from you because they knew you were a bit vulnerable at that stage, what with your father disappearing like he did. Oh thank you, Elizabeth," he paused to take his cup of tea.

"Everything all right, Ashden?" she asked.

He smiled reassuringly. "Just fine," he said, sipping his tea and reaching for a scone to appease her. Only once he'd swallowed a mouthful did she leave.

"Go on," said Ash, putting the remainder of his scone on the plate and leaning in to hear more.

"Well, Bill was born here in Scrubstone. He had a younger sister who died when he was just a lad. She was found at the bottom of their staircase, neck twisted and not a breath in her poor body. On the same day that she died, Bill disappeared. He was gone for years and there was a lot of suspicion surrounding that, I can tell you. Especially seeing his father was the police Sergeant," Reg nodded dramatically.

"Then one day he turned up, out of the blue as if nothing had happened. He couldn't answer a single question about where he'd been. Not with any sense anyways. There were a lot of problems in the home after that with his father's drinking and a few too many bruises on his wife's eyes and all that talk about Bill being crazy. Not long after, his father drank himself silly and hung himself on a tree. That one in your school playground," Reg added in hushed tones. "They say young Bill saw the whole thing. If he wasn't crazy before, he sure had reason to be after that! His mother couldn't stand the gossip and she took him back to England to be with her family. Never saw him again till he turned up to teach at the school only a few years back." Reg dropped a sugar cube into his cup and stirred.

"Bill seemed all right at first but he soon started to show signs of madness. Nothing frightful, just an over the top interest in an imaginary world. Imaginary animals coming to get him, that sort of thing. Harmless, but it was a sign that it was time to retire. Time to relax."

Ashden knew exactly what the obsession was and knew there was nothing imaginary about it.

"That and the gossip round town that it was him who murdered his own sister then ran away to hide," Reg added, slurping a good deal of his tea but keeping his eyes fixed on Ashden.

"Now the poor chap did have a fall in the bathroom not long after that and broke his hip. Said he was attacked by a wild animal. He was stuck in the shower for two days before he was found and by that stage he was raving like a loon, apparently. His step sister came over from England to sort things out," Reg shook his head. "When the police came round investigating, she helped them all she could. Wanted things tidied up so she could get back home and she was no friend of her step brother. Turns out he wasn't a teacher at all. The Department was caught completely red faced on that one. They rushed right in and shut the whole story down. On top of that, his step sister told the police that he'd confessed to killing his sister and even been the one to strangle his own father with the branches of that tree! Can you believe it? There were quite a few charges he had to face before the courts, in the end. Poor fella. He went from bad to worse. I didn't follow what happened exactly, but I know they locked him up in a sanatorium so he could get the kind of care he needed. I visited him there once. Awful place."

"That's terrible. Is he still there?"Ashden asked hopefully.

"I believe so."

Ashden's eyes brimmed with hope. He straight away discounted insanity and didn't care about the fake credentials nor the accusation about him murdering his father. That fig was more than capable of that! But the murder of his sister?

"There sure was more to him than I realised. Do you really think he killed her?"

"His sister? Blast, no! I don't know what happened to that girl but it was nothing to do with Bill," said Reg without conviction. "Mind you, the way he was treated, he might as well have."

"Mmm. Thanks so much for telling me the truth at last. You know how you hear stories? Maybe I'll write a card for him, cheer him up a bit," said Ashden thinking fast, "I can send it through the post if you give me the address.

"Through the post? I thought you young people only used a computer or a mobile to get in touch."

"Oh not me, Mr Woodburn. We don't have a computer and I can't afford a mobile."

"Ah," said Reg. He put his hand to his chin and drew his papery skin down. Ashden noticed his reluctance. "Mum will be sure to want to send him a Christmas card this year now we've found out where he is. She wants to thanks everyone who helped me through. She knows it was hard. It'll make her feel like she's back in touch with the world. Might do the same for him too."

Reg clapped his hands to his knees, "I reckon you're right, young lad. There's plenty of smarts about you, that's for sure." He stood up from his chair to find the address and added with a conspiratorial touch of his nose, "Now don't bandy this about, Ashden. Remember a lot of people weren't happy with Mr Johnson and it wouldn't do to spread his whereabouts around. He needs rest not harassment."

"Absolutely, don't worry about that at all. He was good to me and I just want to say thanks," Ashden said, tapping his fingers on the tea cup.

"Elizabeth, can you bring the address book in for me, dear?" he called.

His wife entered with the book and a knowing smile. "Having a good chat?"

"Oh, yes thank you, dear. We had a bit of a catch up, didn't we Ashden?"

"None of your stories, I hope, Regie."

"Lizzie dearest, would I do that?"

After a quick scribble on a scrap of paper, the address was handed over under Elizabeth's long lasting smile. Ashden took it appreciatively.

"Thank you both very much," he said and placed the cup on the card table and almost ran to the door. "Oh and Mum started painting again, Mr Woodburn. She'll be all right now."

"I'm sure she will. You're a good son, Ashden, and she's proud of you, I know it. Take care and drop in again soon."

"Want to take a scone for Mum?" called Mrs Woodburn but his feet were already pounding the pavement.

### Chapter 17

The wrought iron gates of the Feathersden Sanatorium may have been open but were no more welcoming because of it. Oaks with gnarled trunks stood as sentinels along the fence line. Ashden recalled the old fig's deadly molten flow of wood and hurried past them, eyes down, up the gravel driveway to the equally unwelcoming front doors.

The sign on the wall indicated visiting hours were underway. The closed doors suggested otherwise. Ashden knocked but the sound disappeared into the dense timber. He jiggled the handle and bent down to peer through the arched keyhole, turning his face side on to the grain. The handle dropped heavily down onto his forehead, preventing him from straightening up before the door opened. A short uniformed woman confronted him. In one hand she gripped a ring of keys that splayed out like metallic claws ready to strike. The other was poised on the door handle ready to slam it shut in his face. Her hair was pulled back in a French roll and a stripe of gray down her part made her look older than the stripe of pink lipstick on her mouth tried to pretend.

"Yes?" her voice was as severe as her appearance.

"Hello Ma'am," said Ashden, rubbing his head. "I've come to visit my grandfather, Bill Johnson. I was told it was okay." Ashden offered a tentative smile.

"Mr Johnson does not have a grandchild."

Ashden couldn't believe his plan was shredded already. "Well, he's not my actual grandfather, he's my godfather, but we were really close and I always called him my grandpa 'cause I never had any 'cause mine died before I was born."

She looked down her nose at his chocolate box and card. She tilted her head and scanned his appearance up and down. His long shorts and collared shirt, his knobbly knees and ruddy cheeks. Ashden willed a chain of thought into her eyes; See how he would cry if you turned him away. How sad, he'd just drag his feet down the entire driveway and scuff his leather shoes all the way home. Who could do that to a young boy looking for his Grandpa?

"Young boys cannot enter without the strict supervision of their parents," she snapped and swung shut the door. Ashden wedged his foot in the frame, wincing.

"I've brought him some money from my mother because she wasn't able to get here herself. She said he needs it. She's not well herself and, well, I don't have a dad who could have brought me."

The matron had stopped listening early on in his plea. "He could use the money, I suppose." Her lashes quivered. "I'll have to check your name on our register. You said you telephoned?"

Ashden nodded and followed her to the office window inside the foyer.

"I see. Well and good." She returned the pen to her pocket. "Wait there." She started down the corridor and pushed through a swing door with her bottom and disappeared.

He drummed his fingers nervously on the lid of the chocolate box. It echoed in the emptiness of the sterile foyer. The air had the sharpness of bleach to it and he had to rub his eyes. Echoing down corridors were the atonal moanings of the insane.

Heels snapped on tiles and the matron reappeared from the doorway waving imperiously for him to join her.

"Your mother would have told you about your grandfather."

He nodded, butterflies in boots kicked against his stomach.

"If he starts talking about his fantasy world I want you to agree with him pleasantly then come straight out and tell me. It gets him all worked up and I won't put up with any nonsense. I've told him I'll ban his privileges if he bothers anyone with that rubbish."

Privileges? Ashden wondered, raising his eyebrows.

By now they were outside Room 14. The matron clicked her tongue and gave him one last stony stare. She about faced, double checked Mr Johnson through the peep window then unlocked his door with one of her claws.

"Mr Johnson, your godson is here." She spun on her heel and snapped out.

Ashden poked his head around the door noticing firstly how the walls were scabbed over with faded printouts of toys, old newspaper articles, maps and scribbled lists that curled at the corners like flakes of skin. There were books like overstuffed sandwiches wedged side by side on shelves and in the centre of the room, angled strangely on his pillow much like a poorly placed toy himself, was Mr Johnson; ghostly pale and clasping his sheets with white knuckled hands.

"It's you!" the old man wheezed.

### Chapter 18

"Wake up, wake up!" A thin stream of air and sound funneled into Elanora's ear from Pin Pot who stood stomping up and down beside her head. "We've got to get you home."

"Let her get her wits about her, Pin Pot, she just had a nasty faint. You always think we've got no time. We always have the time."

"Wake up!" he blasted once more before frowning at Petsy and stomping defiantly near her head.

"It's fine, I'm awake. Did I faint?" she asked.

"And slept! There was no stopping you, there really wasn't."

"Now, Pin Pot."

Elanora soaked up the warmth and light until they settled deep into her skin before bouncing out at the recollection of home. Of Ash.

"Jolly good. Now I do apologise for the rush, but Pin Pot assures me the tunnels are darkening and it would be best to get you on your way."

"What, they're coming here? I've got you into real danger, haven't I?"

"Oh, there's always something going on in these parts. It hasn't been safe for the longest time. We don't pay any mind to it," Petsy reassured her.

"Yes we do!" Pin Pot squeaked. "Hurry up!" He stood at the edge of a new hole they had dug while Elanora slept and pointed his trunk into it. After taking a quick swig of blue liquid offered by Petsy, she stepped in. What they had dug was a short connecting branch into an existing tunnel. Like last time, Petsy plastered up the access point behind them, daubing it with tainted water.

"These tunnels are quite safe. They lead to some of the places we need to get to in secret. The beasts don't know about them."

"Yet!" said Pin Pot.

As they walked, Elanora filled them in on her misadventures in the Timefold. They shook their heads at Ashden's failure to explain the dangers and spoke with certainty about his attempts to rescue her. "There must have been a very grave danger indeed that kept him from such a lovely young lady as you. You'll see. He has not abandoned you."

"He might've been killed. And that's why he didn't come," suggested Pin Pot.

"You're not helping," whispered Petsy.

Elanora stopped still to grapple with a thought. "Or maybe he won't even notice I've been gone. As far as he'll know I've just reappeared beside him the same second he gets back!" she slapped her palm to her forehead. "I can't believe I didn't think of that earlier."

Petsy and Pin Pot came to a halt. "Did you and your friend enter the Timefold together?" Petsy asked.

"Yes, he was holding my hand," she replied. Petsy and Pin Pot glanced worriedly at each other.

"You came in at the very same time holding hands but he left without you?" Pin Pot asked, ears flared.

"He didn't leave me on purpose, but yes. Why? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Petsy rubbed his stomach under his suddenly tight vest.

"Didn't anyone tell you?" Pin Pot blurted.

"Tell me what?"

"If you enter at the same time as another, you have to leave at the same time as the other," Petsy said as if repeating an age old warning.

"Otherwise you've blown it!"

"Pin Pot, hush!"

"What do you mean? Please just tell me what you mean!" Elanora begged.

Petsy reached out his paw and put it into her palm. "If you enter the Timefold while touching another, then you must leave in exactly the same way. Otherwise you destroy the delicate balance of things and can never go back to that time with that person ever again."

Elanora's mouth trembled. Heat flared from her heart to her fingertips. "I can't go home?"

Pin Pot stood on her shoe and wrapped his trunk around her ankle, shaking his head.

"Ever?"

Petsy put his other paw in her other hand that hung tingling at her side.

"My parents?"

Petsy and Pin Pot shook their heads. They didn't look at all like toys anymore.

"So, I've died?"

"The Timefold has its rules. It folds in all directions and every crease marks a new design."

"Like origami!" Pin Pot chimed.

Petsy nodded, "There is now a new shape created and what has been has refolded to fit."

"I do like those paper cranes..." commented Pin Pot seriously as Petsy sidestepped him to continue.

"With toys there is no changing shape. The outer world isn't wholly ours. But for you humans, that world is yours and you are important to the way it turns and the reason it exists. But when you dabble with time it is up to a greater force to smooth the creases and fold the corners before it all falls apart for everyone else."

"I don't know why you people are let loose without knowing the rules!"

"Pin Pot, please."

"I'm just saying that everything revolves around them. It's a little bit self-important, don't you think, jumping in and out of time, expecting everything to be just the way they want it even when they go off and break the rules!"

"Pin Pot, that's enough. If nobody tells you the rules, how are you supposed to know the rules?"

The two of them were so engrossed in their banter that they didn't notice Elanora's tears. Nor did they notice the steely eyes that shed those tears and the tight balled fist that wiped them away. She walked trance like towards the gateway.

The two friends exchanged another worried look and raced after her. "Don't mind Pin Pot, he's very rude and doesn't mean any of it."

"No, I'm sure I don't. And if it helps, it's not like you'll have died back home, it's just that you never existed," Pin Pot offered.

"Oh that helps!" Elanora said. "Don't worry about it. It's my own stupid fault. And you know what?" she spun around, hair whipping her shoulder. "They won't miss me anyway." And she marched ahead to wherever it was she was now going. It wasn't home, but what did it matter.

Accommodating talking animals in a Timefold was one thing, trying to get your head around never existing was another. Elanora's gut was a cyclone rising to choke her. She gritted her teeth and swallowed the debris. Four steps forward then rubber legs ready to buckle. She paced faster to pound them into action. Her vision blurred and disorientated her. The caramel walls smeared like wet clay under her feet. The soulings rushed to her side as she stumbled.

"It's going to be all right, Elanora. Stay here with us," she vaguely heard one of them say as she righted herself with their help.

"I can get home," was the last she uttered, pushing away from them and stepping into the gateway.

Lights showered around her once more. She didn't notice her stomach fall this time, cyclonic as it already was. Elanora heard the sound of children, but with her face down in the dirt and the swell of cicada calls in her ears, she couldn't identify them.

"...and bring that girl over to me!"

She lifted her head.

"Move it! Stand up here and show everyone what a liar looks like."

A young girl of maybe fourteen stood shamefaced on the veranda of the school house. The teacher buttoned up in a skirt and jacket scowled down at her. Assembled in front were nearly twenty young girls in long dresses, bunched together like a knotted sheet. The dust settled on their boots as they watched the denouncement.

"Liars are always found out, and liars are always punished. You will receive fifteen cuts Miss Sallyanne Milkthwaite, then spend the remainder of the day on the block because we don't want liars in our midst, do we girls?" There was a murmur from the knot. "Do we girls?"

"No Miss Barton," they chorused.

"Now all of you, back to work."

The girls scattered like a puffed out dandelion and Elanora crawled behind a bush to hide. Well, I certainly haven't made it home, she thought.

She rolled onto her back and a thin sheet of sweat prickled her face. Skinny gum leaves crosshatched the sky where the fat leaves of the fig should have been. There was no doubting it. The fig was nowhere to be seen.

"Now, don't move, don't even swat the flies. I'm watching you, Milkthwaite," warned Miss Barton before leaving the red-eyed girl posed like a statue on the sandstone block. She stood with her back to the bush and her face to the schoolyard Elanora recognised as her own, although newer, as if it had sprouted out of an empty paddock. Farmland rolled like turf between patches of bush, past the school gate without sign of house or road or telegraph pole. What had Scrubstone been back in the old days? Elanora racked her brain for a long forgotten fact. As far as she could remember it was an offshoot of a mining town. When the gold had disappeared the people left behind took up farming. Judging by the girl's fashion and the newness of the school she thought it must be close to the turn of the twentieth century. But if I ask, I'm going to sound like a real idiot, she thought.

The girl on the rock discreetly inspected the welts on her hands when the undergrowth rustled. Her face paled. She shut her eyes and clenched her hands in prayer.

Seeing her shaking legs from where she crouched behind some shrubs, Elanora whispered as gently as she could, "Hello."

The girl jumped and lost her footing. Which was worse? Being dragged into the bush by a bunyip or being dragged before Miss Barton for losing your balance? There wasn't time to decide but she stood stock still hoping to appease both.

"Don't panic! I'm behind you."

"Who is?" the girl asked.

"Elanora."

"I thought you were a snake. Or worse. Why are you hiding there?"

Why am I hiding, she wondered. What do I say? I can't go home. I have no home. "I've run away. I've got nowhere to go."

"So you came here? That is a most foolish thing to do. Please. I mustn't talk or Miss Barton will see and I'll be done for. Again." Sallyanne's teeth clenched as she tried not to move her lips. But she was no ventriloquist.

"What's your name?" Elanora asked.

"Sallyanne."

"How long have you got to stay there?"

"Till sun down. Then I'll be sorting laundry in the lean-to. Meet me there while the girls have supper."

"Okay. Will you be all right out here?"

"It could always be worse. Now please go before it is!" Sallyanne pleaded.

Elanora shrank back into the bush.

As dire as her situation was, she couldn't help but spin on the spot with arms outstretched, exhilarated at having actually traveled through time. She was in the past, and even that was better than being a prisoner.

### Chapter 19

The cicadas blasted their relentless call into the cool early evening like the pulse of a sleeping giant. The girls had swept inside and were chanting grace. Miss Barton presided over them although her lips never formed a single word. The yard was empty and Elanora wove stealthily to the laundry and slunk inside.

"Hello?"

"Good gracious me!" Sallyanne dropped her rag. "What's wrong with you?"

It wasn't quite the reception she expected and Elanora took a step back.

"No, I'm sorry, I mean to say, are you all right? You're in such a state. Are you starving? Have you lost your clothes? What happened to you?" her English accent was clear now that she wasn't speaking through clenched teeth. It was musical and warm.

"I guess I am a mess. I haven't seen a mirror for a while." Elanora grabbed at her matted plait. She screwed up her face. Her school uniform was worn thin, the hem had long since dropped and shredded. Her blouse was stained and she had used threads from her skirt to attach one side of it to the other in place of buttons. Her black leather shoes were scratched brown and she had no socks at all.

"Where are your parents?" Sallyanne asked.

"They're not around anymore. They died and I ran away from where I was staying." And that's not altogether a lie, she thought.

"My parents passed away too," Sallyanne said, taking Elanora's hand warmly. "Maybe this is as good a place for you as any. At least you will have food and somewhere to sleep. But we have to get your name added to the list first. Maybe we could slip you into the new group of girls that's arriving soon from Sydney without the matron noticing. It might work."

The idea of slipping unnoticed into this world too, made Elanora grimace. "I'm sure that will work," she said.

"I think it will be safest for you tonight to stay in here. After that, maybe you could use the old shed in the bush. No one ever goes there, but you seem to be perfectly brave when it comes to the bush," she shuddered. "It's really not very nice, but it will be safer than being caught by Miss Barton."

"What was it you were in trouble for today, anyway?" Elanora asked.

"Every morning before breakfast we have chores. I was supposed to help prepare the copper for wash day. Sort the clothes, a hundred other things. But this morning I had a frightful headache that kept me awake all night. I told Miss Barton and asked to be excused. She allowed me an hour in the infirmary. The problem was that she'd left her book on the shelf in there and I couldn't help myself. It's been so long since I've even held a book that I took it and started to read. Even though my head was throbbing I read page after page, it was so good. And that was when Miss Barton came back in. She said that if I had a real headache I wouldn't be able to read even the title so she called me a liar."

"And stood you in front of the whole school for a telling off then she made you stand on a rock for the rest of the day! Have you had anything to eat?"

"One of the girls sneaked me some bread."

"How's your head now?"

Sallyanne smiled, "Not the best. I'll be glad when I can get to bed. I'm sorry there's no bed for you."

"Don't worry about me. I just need to get clean!"

They both giggled at the state of her. Quietly at first, then hysterically, clutching their stomachs gasping for air, erupting again when Elanora pointed at the threaded buttonholes or her rag edged skirt, or when she lifted up her mangled orange plait. Laughter bubbled in Elanora's body like sudsy water, rinsing her clean and growing exponentially till it cascaded from her eyes in tears. Tears that streamed down her cheeks and reminded her of sadness. She teetered on the border of elation and misery. But at that moment Sallyanne embraced her in a tremendous hug, catching up one of Elanora's dangling buttons in her hair, which led to another outbreak of giggling.

"Oh my hair," Sallyanne said as they came apart, laughing. "I'm so glad you're here, Elanora."

"I think I am too," she replied.

A corseted black shadow appeared at the threshold, rising until it obscured the last ray of sunlight from the mirthful pair. Sallyanne scrambled to her feet, head bowed. Elanora took longer to stand. The wait showed on Miss Barton's face, which seemed to swell with the effort of containing her rage. She made several tilts of her head as if forcing down something thick, the way a goanna gulps at a rat.

"What is this?" she managed to regurgitate.

"I'm sorry, Miss. I saw all the girls today and hoped I might find a place to stay with you."

"Do you know this creature, Milkthwaite?" She could barely bring herself to look at Elanora.

"No Miss Barton."

"My name is Elanora Lacey, Miss."

"Why are you not with your parents?" she asked, casting a scornful eye.

"My parents are dead, Miss. I haven't got anywhere else to go." Elanora hoped she wouldn't have to supply too much detail as she didn't think her brain was quite up to the challenge.

"I am Miss Barton to you and this is The Institute for the Betterment of Girls not a society for stray cats and homeless dogs. You don't belong with us. We are a home for proper English girls, not for brazen natives."

"My parents were English, Miss Barton. From London, actually. They died when I was very young and I was left with an Australian family. They were bad people so I ran away. I want to be with good English people." She was sure she knew more about England than most girls in that era would, but about the England of the past? She guessed enough about this pompous battle-axe to know that her only chance lay in appealing to her patriotism.

Miss Barton gulped at another bulk in her throat and focused her bloated eyes on Elanora.

"I cannot abide red heads," she said. "Flaming tempers and untamable natures."

The revulsion on her face made Elanora flinch. She dipped her face, wanting to hide the comeback that formed on her lips but Miss Barton must have taken it for shame and been satisfied.

"Sleep in Milkthwaite's bed tonight and in the morning you will earn your keep by helping with morning chores. After breakfast, though, I want you gone! I see something in you that I don't much like the look of. As for you, Milkthwaite," she said boring down on Sallyanne, "finish your chores then get this girl into something acceptable. And burn that filth she is wearing." The shadow retracted.

Sallyanne leant back on the wall and let out a sigh, "I can't believe it. She's not usually that nice."

"That was nice?"

"You've no idea," said Sallyanne counting every one of her lucky stars that circled around her aching head.

### Chapter 20

"Wake up, Elanora, it's time to get up."

Elanora opened her eyes, uncertain of who might be shaking her shoulders this time. Elephants, bears, girls, past, present?

Sallyanne waited beside her bed with a folded stack of fabric, "Here, this is for you." She handed her the navy and white bundle which unfolded into a shin length dress and large white overlay similar to an apron but far more substantial. There were black lace up boots, ballooning undergarments and petticoats to struggle into, which Elanora only just managed to do after surreptitious observation of the girls banked beside her. Every time she looked up, however, the girls would lower their heads and turn away, avoiding eye contact. They huddled together, whispering, staring, speculating.

Sallyanne was pulled into a huddle leaving Elanora alone, shifting self-consciously on her tightly bound feet. There were more whispers until Sallyanne called for everyone's attention and gathered them over to her bed. Twenty pairs of eyes stared at Elanora.

"This is her. She came yesterday. Her name is Elanora Lacey and Miss Barton found us together in the laundry last night. I know some of you said you saw a girl being brought back in last night, and this is her."

"But Olive said she 'eard Miss Barton call 'er Nelly," said one of the girls and the rest nodded, clutching hands with excitement.

Sallyanne turned to Olive, "Are you sure? Could she have said Elanora do you think?"

"Well, I don't think so," answered Olive. "But I s'pose it were noisy in the kitchen. Maybe she said Elanora but they don't really sound the same, do they?"

"We need to send someone in to check," suggested Mary, at which everyone gulped.

"I wouldn't risk it, girls," said Sallyanne. Let's just assume it wasn't Nelly. After all she was sent out months ago. She'd be miles away on a sheep station right now probably. And a lot better off than all of us. Elanora is new. We need to make her welcome. She has no parents, no home. She's one of us."

Elanora smiled. The girls smiled back, disappointment evident on their faces.

Floorboards suddenly cracked underfoot. There was a mad scramble to reach the ends of beds as Miss Barton appeared looking more swollen than the night before. "New girl, come here," she ordered. Elanora hurried over. Miss Barton scowled at the plait extending like a dusty dirt track down her back. "Come with me." She swooped out of the dormitory with Elanora trailing behind.

Miss Barton led her into her office which was sparsely furnished but so clean it gleamed even in the soft light of morning. She sat at her desk squaring away the long black folds of her dress. The buttons that ran from waist to neck barely contained her and Elanora mused that all that pressure must have built up and shot out the top of her scalp as a huge, puffy explosion of hair that had to be contained in a wiry knot of pins on her head.

She took a ledger from the drawer and became absorbed in scratching down items in columns until Elanora's feet burned from standing still. "Right. Miss Lacey," she said at last, lifting her thick boned face. "What skills do you have, or have those colonials taught you nothing?"

"I can read and write and...do arithmetic." _Arithmetic! Brilliant!_

"Well and good, but can you sew, can you clean, can you cook?"

Elanora thought of sewing machines, microwaves and washing machines. "A bit. I was brought up more with learning from books."

"Learning from books! I'm sure. How old did you say you were?"

"Twelve, Miss Barton." _What's one year's difference if it buys me more sympathy?_ Elanora reasoned.

"You look older." She wrote down a number in her book. "And your parents are dead? There is no one who cares about where you are?" Miss Barton bent her elbow, gripping the pen in her hand like a hunter would his spear.

Elanora twisted the hair escaping at her temples, "No. No one."

Miss Barton dipped her pen into the ink well before scribbling some more then gulped and tilted back her full throat. "Then we shall see what becomes of you. We are a charitable institution, Lacey, but our charity does not extend to layabouts and locals. Our girls are brought to this country to help build the Empire. They are here for a better life through hard labour, not like their wayward parents. I wouldn't normally consider taking you on board, but considering your parentage, perhaps I can make an exception. As it turns out there will be a placement available for you very soon," she nodded in short sharp bursts to help force the clot down her throat. "Go now to Milkthwaite and learn the skills that will prepare you for useful employment." Miss Barton lowered her head to resume writing.

"And Lacey," she looked up with her catch wedged in her throat and a satisfied half smile, "don't get comfortable because you won't be here for very long."

Elanora walked back to the empty dormitory. While the girls were about their pre-breakfast duties, she threw herself onto Sallyanne's bed, hugging the pillow. She tried to imagine the sounds of a full class sliding back on metal chair legs, flicking pens, smacking books onto decks, the weary instructions from teachers. If only she could look out the window and see Ashden heading for the fig. Or Oscar skulking for an attack. Even that would be comforting. But there was not even a smell that reminded her of home. Under the pillow, a familiar curl of fur brushed her fingertips halting the onset of tears. She crawled her fingers further under and scooped out a golden bear, bright button eyed and smiling. She crushed it to her chest. Sallyanne's bear was alive. How she could tell, she wasn't certain. Maybe the Timefold had sharpened her senses. However it happened, Elanora could feel the life inside this bear and it sang into her heart a hum of love.

With eyes screwed shut, Olive rang the metal bell, sending its chunks of sound out like an invisible box on the ears. At assembly Elanora's face was glowing when she took her place beside Sallyanne who cast her a worried glance before attending to the front. Miss Barton stood on the veranda, tight and towering, and led the girls in the singing of God Save the King. Her voice boomed over all others, sounding much like the bell.

"Now girls, before breakfast I will introduce you to the new girl who stole her way in last night but whom I have decided will join us for a short time. A very short time, until she learns some responsibility. Elanora Lacey, come here." Elanora's face grew hot and red under an introduction that reeked of foreboding. The joy from the souling disappeared in a flush of nerves.

"Unfortunately Miss Lacey is ungrateful for my offer and thinks she can still lounge about as she pleases."

_Oh no! I was supposed to go straight to help with the jobs this morning_ , she thought. The teddy had distracted her and the beast Barton had found her out already.

"I believe it's time to cut off your ties to the past and set your eyes on the future." She brandished a fierce set of iron scissors. Elanora flinched, her teeth chewing in the bottom corner of her lip. She gazed up at the thick blades when Miss Barton yanked up her plait and her face was forced to stare at her boots. The matron flashed the blades open and shut then hacked at the base of her neck, metal chafing through strand after strand of hair. The sound sawed up and down Elanora's spine setting her teeth on edge. The tension on her head suddenly vanished and she stumbled over leaving her mane behind in Miss Barton's victorious grip. She held it up like a gutted eel then threw it at Elanora where it slipped to her feet in a lifeless strip.

"Girls, you may forward to the dining hall and you, Lacey, can go in and receive your cuts. And put that thing with the rubbish."

Elanora picked up her long plait. It lay across her hands like a burning welt. She didn't even know where the bin was. She looked blindly from side to side, not really able to think at all. It was like holding one of her limbs. She had never known life without her long hair.

"There's a place for rubbish behind Miss Barton's office," Sallyanne whispered as she passed on the way to the dining hall. "You'll be okay," she smiled and was carried in by the crowd. The girls averted their eyes as they passed.

Elanora carried her plait behind the office. The bin wasn't there so she rounded the corner, passed a closed window where finally she found a pile of rubbish. She knelt down ceremoniously to place her hair somewhere on the pile where there wasn't too much wet filth.

"Goodbye me," she said. As she got up she heard a racking cough from behind the window. She put her ear to the wood. There was another cough and wheeze. Footsteps were approaching so Elanora hurried past and headed inside to Miss Barton's office.

"We have very high expectations of our girls, Miss Lacey and if I give you an instruction it will be carried out. Your hand."

Elanora had often thought that reinstating the cane at Scrubstone would have been a great way to solve the problem of bullies like Oscar Rindman, but as she faced the first slice of pain, she couldn't wish it on anybody. The cut not only stung but beat her bones. Six on one hand, six on the other. Miss Barton's arm was strong and accurate. She savoured each wince on Elanora's face and swallowed several times to drain the saliva that flooded her mouth as if she smelt the approach of a meal.

"Don't expect breakfast. I would stand you on the stone block but I need you to learn. I need you polished and gone as soon as possible. Close the door on your way out."

Elanora's hands vibrated from the lashings but she managed to shut the door. The scar on her left hand from Jacub had awoken in fresh pain. She closed her eyes and sighed. She would find a way back. If she had gotten out of the Timefold she was sure she could get back in, even if there was no fig, no gateway and no Ashden.

The girls were still eating in the hall and the smell of food made her feel emptier than ever. Barton was back in there watching them like a hawk so there was time to investigate what lay on the other side of the window. Elanora figured the location of the room inside the building and approached quietly.

She turned the knob and peered through the crack. A young girl lay on a cot, her face ash grey. Elanora pushed the door and slipped inside, closing it gently behind her. The young girl saw her but the hopeful expression on her face died, "Who are you?" she asked.

"I'm Elanora. Who are you?"

She coughed and screwed her face up from the pain. "Nelly." Her eyes were deep set and darkly shadowed.

"I heard the girls talking about you. Olive said she thought she heard you last night. Did you come back from somewhere?"

Nelly brightened at the mention of a familiar name but paled just as quickly. "I was brought 'ere last night."

"You're sick, is Miss Barton helping you?"

She rolled her eyes, "She won't 'elp me. She's just waitin' for me to die."

"What do you mean?" Elanora knelt on the floor beside the cot and went to touch her arm that rested beneath the blanket.

"Don't!" Nelly hissed and coughed again.

"What's happened to you?"

"Tell the girls not to get 'emselves sent away. Tell 'em to run."

"Nelly, you have to tell me what happened to you," Elanora implored, as another bell clanged and footsteps jumbled along the corridor.

She looked into the girl's faded eyes, "I have to go. But listen, I'm going to come back. You stay here, I'll help you somehow," Elanora promised and rushed from the room having forgotten all about the pain in her hands.

### Chapter 21

"I've seen her. I met Nelly," gasped Elanora colliding with Sallyanne on the veranda.

"You did? Where is she?"

"She's in the room near Miss Barton's office. I heard her coughing. She looks really sick and she told me to tell you all not to get sent away. You need to run."

Sallyanne smoothed the apron on her dress and scanned the playground.

"Where are you all being sent?" Elanora asked.

"Let's not stand around here. We've got to do the washing today so we'll have plenty of time to talk safely and you can tell me all about Nelly, the poor thing." She led Elanora to an area behind the dormitory where a huge copper bowl balanced over a fire. The fire had been lit before breakfast and was slowly working up a heat. Sallyanne checked the temperature and the fire before setting off to collect dirty clothes. They were in and out of rooms and between groups of girls so they didn't get a chance to resume their conversation until they were back at the copper. Sallyanne thrashed the fire to subdue its flames before sorting the clothes.

"Tell me about Nelly," Sallyanne said.

"Like I said, she was really sick and she must have had some injuries because she wouldn't let me touch her arm. She said Miss Barton wasn't helping her get better, she was waiting for her to die, and that you all had to run instead of getting sent away. What did she mean? Where do you get sent? What is this place?"

"We are all either orphans or children from poor families who gave us up to the Institution," she began. "They sent us here to start a new life and do our bit for the Empire. They told us it would be better." She tossed a pile of garments into the water with soap flakes that she chipped off a block. Boiling water splashed onto her wrists but she didn't flinch.

"So you left everything behind? How awful."

Sallyanne grimaced and stirred the pot with a sturdy wooden paddle. "Some of the girls were taken straight off the dock by families waiting for them. I've never heard a word of what happened to them. The rest of us came here by train and then by foot. It was a really long trip."

Elanora wondered if in this era the train stopped at Carford. If that was the last station the trip by car was forty minutes so that meant it was a very decent walk indeed.

"So now we stay here learning how to be good domestic servants until we can be sent out to work on farms or in the towns or wherever we are needed."

"So you were sent out here to be slaves."

Sallyanne levered a steaming garment from the pot and Elanora was reminded of ladling a sloppy rice noodle from a giant wok. "We may leave our placement when we are twenty-one if we marry or find other employment."

"Sure sounds like child slavery to me. That's so wrong."

"Oh, Elanora, you do talk strangely. I wouldn't say we were slaves. It's better than what we would have been forced to do back in London," she stared into the water watching dresses cavort like the spirits of those she had lost. "There we would've ended up thieves or worse. They took us off the streets and gave us food and somewhere safe to sleep. I'm really thankful for that, because I saw the kind of life I would have led if I stayed. Everyone had to steal and hide and do all manner of evil. Also, if we hadn't ended up there none of us would have had a chance to go to school. Thanks to them most of the girls can read a little now. We were supposed to keep up our lessons out here but that all stopped once we got off the ship. All we do now is clean and sew and cook, not that there's ever much to cook. I suppose they don't think we'll need an education to be domestic help."

"It still doesn't sound like much to look forward to," said Elanora. Sallyanne smiled sadly into the copper.

Doing the washing was an exhausting and dangerous task. Made harder by the welts on Elanora's hands that burned like fire from the steam and hot clothes. As both were unavoidable, she spent the day biting her cheek to keep from crying. It also made it hard to keep chatting, as there was so much levering of clothes, pounding, scrubbing and rinsing.

"So why do you think Nelly was sent back?" Elanora asked.

"I don't know. Miss Barton says that we must never come back. Anyone who gets sent back is 'a shame to England and worth less than the dirt on our feet when we were scraped off the streets,'" she said in her best Barton impersonation. "One girl came back just when we arrived and Miss Barton caned her terribly then made her stay in the playground with a placard around her neck. She left her there for three days then she just disappeared."

"What had she done?"

"Brought shame to the Institution and the Empire. Apparently she stole something from her master. But, you know?" she paused from sorting to look up at Elanora, "Sometimes people don't always tell things the way they really happened."

"That's true. So we've really got to help Nelly, haven't we?" Elanora said firmly.

"Yes," Sallyanne agreed as the bell clanged for supper.

### Chapter 22

The night's inky thickness finally clogged the last cicada call. Rustling foliage from midnight creatures replaced them.

"I can't do it," whispered Sallyanne, crouching beside their dormitory.

"You can. I promise you'll be safe," said Elanora. "Here, you carry this and don't spill a drop." She handed a canister of water to her friend and saw her attention shift to keeping the contents steady. "Come on!"

Elanora and Sallyanne scurried across the playground. There was no point going back into the room as Nelly had been moved since morning. Olive had snuck past it after receiving a set of cuts from Miss Barton for opening her mouth while she chewed, and found an empty cot. There was only one place where she could be if she was still on the grounds. The shed. Nobody went near the shed because the shed was in the bush and the bush was a hellhole for snakes and spiders, evil spirits and foul breathed bunyips, so Sallyanne had tried to explain. But it wasn't the shed that had Elanora worried. Her heart seized at the thick layers of shadows surrounding them. She stilled her breathing to stop them seeping into her lungs and sucking her back to the cell.

_Calm down, they can't find you here,_ she assured herself.

Thirty metres into the scrub it stood, fresh corrugated iron roofing just losing its metallic gleam from a cold, wet winter. Elanora stared at it, drawing her breath in wonder. As she exhaled, she rested a hand upon the timber frame and gazed at the iron sheeting free of rust holes and decay, held high and proud.

Sallyanne watched her touch the shed and shivered.

"Nell?" she whispered through the cracks in the wood. "Nelly?"

Elanora poked her finger through a knot in the door and pulled, scraping up dirt as it opened. The girls smelt her sickness before discerning her shape under a grey, moth eaten blanket.

"Nelly?" they whispered, kneeling at her side.

She raised her head, her eyes blacker than the darkness. "Sallyanne?"

Sallyanne poured water into her cracked mouth and brushed the hair from her face. "It's all right Nell, we're here." She spluttered the water back up with a disconcerting gag.

"It's me again, Nelly. Elanora. I told you I'd come back."

Nelly smiled weakly. "I'm glad you came. I 'ave someone... who needs...after I've gone."

"Don't talk nonsense, Nell, you're not going anywhere." While she spoke, Nelly pushed a small dark brown bear from under the cloth.

"Oh!" Elanora cried, staring down at the worn creature. "What's his name?" she asked, stroking his head.

"Merrylamb."

"He's lovely, Nelly."

"Will you take care of 'im?" she asked, her skin a ghostly shade of alabaster.

"You can take care of him yourself when you get better." Sallyanne smoothed her forehead. "What happened to you, Nell?"

She closed her eyes as memories cut like glass. Her brow tightened. "Me master...I promise I tried m' best. I did wha' I was told...'e 'urt me. Me arm broke, but it don't 'urt no more...There was no lady on the station and I...I just couldn't..."

"There, there, it's all right now, it's all right. You didn't do anything wrong. You didn't have anyone to look after you, but we're here now," Sallyanne held her good hand as Nelly coughed thickly.

"I got sick an' I couldn't keep workin'," she continued, rasping from the effort. " 'e got worse. 'e were bad..." she closed her eyes and a tear rolled down her temple.

" 'e dragged me back to Miss Barton. 'e wants a replacement. But don't go, don't anyone go!" she gripped Sallyanne's arm and Merrylamb rolled into Elanora's lap.

Elanora picked him up, looking at Sallyanne in alarm. _A replacement. A new girl._

"Well _you_ can't stay here," Sallyanne said to Elanora.

"None of us can. That woman is a beast," Elanora replied.

"She said she'd leave me 'ere to rot. She said it weren't the first time she swept away dirt." Nelly summoned the last of her strength. "That room I were in. There's someone in the wall. She told me. That girl wi' the placard round 'er neck. She told me she put 'er body behind the wall so there weren't no room for me. That's why she moved me out 'ere; she said this place were my coffin." Nelly was saucer eyed and a gummy sweat broke out on her face.

"No, Nell, she just told you that to frighten you. There's no one there and you will be all right. This is your hospital. We can make it really nice. We can bring you food and water and with plenty of rest you'll be fine in no time," Sallyanne soothed.

Nelly coughed in great racking spasms that made both girls wince and rub their chests. Her cracked lips trembled.

"Let me see your arm," said Sallyanne lowering the covers.

Her arm was bruised with the stain of night. Deep purple puddles like mutant polka dots on her skin. Her elbow was swollen and bent at a grotesque angle. Her wrist puffed out as thick as a shin and her fingers had a greenish tinge. A foul smell came from her flesh. The girls were speechless.

Nelly coughed again, inhaling with difficulty, paling as they watched.

Sallyanne dripped a little more liquid between her lips. It drained down the cracks and out, untouched.

A sudden stillness came over them like the lowering of a shroud. The darkness diminished and a soft light appeared.

" 'e wanted 'is money's worth," Nelly whispered. "She's sellin' us all."

Nelly turned to her bear nestled safely in Elanora's arms. He gazed back at her with aching button eyes, willing her to live. The darkness became gentle and soft, embracing her face before dividing for a supernatural entry of light. Nelly's final vision of the world was Merrylamb humming her goodbye.

### Chapter 23

Elanora and Sallyanne held each other in their narrow bed waiting for morning. Neither spoke. Between them were the two bears. All four remembered Nelly. Leaving her in the shed was the hardest thing to do but what choice did they have? They had kissed her pallid cheek and said goodbye, knowing that her spirit was already free. Elanora drifted in and out of sleep thinking about the Great Destination. What was it? Who was behind it? Why did the thought of it simultaneously calm and excite her?

Sallyanne thought it best not to alarm the other girls with what Nelly had said, except to say that they should all be particularly careful of Miss Barton and give away nothing. "Pretend you don't know anything about Nelly," Sallyanne warned.

"But where'll she be buried?" asked Olive.

"I don't know," replied Sallyanne. "But I think we should have our own ceremony for her. We can find somewhere nearby. A special place where we can share all our memories of her. Lay some flowers."

"That's a great idea," agreed Elanora. "Who has something we can place there? You know, like a memento."

"I've got a pretty ribbon she used to tie in my hair," said Helen.

"An' I can pick 'er favourite flowers," suggested Mary.

"I've got somethin' she liked," said Olive and dashed over to her bed returning with a brown shrivelled marble from under her pillow.

"What is it?" asked Sallyanne.

"Nelly 'n' I filled our pockets with 'em when we arrived in Sydney. There were these 'uge trees all covered in fruit. Once we knew you could eat 'em we collected as many as we could. We did some silly things with 'em too," she grinned, "so I know she'd remember 'em."

Elanora stared in wonder. She took the fruit from Olive's hand and inspected it closely.

"It's a fig fruit," her stomach flipped and her finger tips tingled. "A fig. It's a fig!" she shouted and whirled around and around grabbing Sallyanne's hands and dancing with joy.

"What are you doing?" Sallyanne laughed.

The other girls looked about in surprise but started to relax and join in on whatever joke was being had.

"Here we go round the fig tree, the fig tree, the figgy tree, here we go round the figgy tree on a hot and dusty morning," Elanora sang, and they all joined hands in a spinning frenzy. One rhyme led to another and soon they were "all fall down."

"I hate to spoil such fun, but we must get our chores done before she notices," said Sallyanne and the merriment ended. Elanora tucked the fruit into her apron pocket but not before giving it a heartfelt kiss.

As they walked to the kitchen Sallyanne asked, "Why are you so excited about a fig?"

"It reminds me of home," she said and smiled as they headed in to prepare the stove. Sallyanne was sure she saw a flame of red illuminate the short shafts of Elanora's hair.

A group of girls lingered in the kitchen cleaning up after lunch which left no chance for Elanora and Sallyanne to discuss their next move privately, so instead Elanora asked about her bear.

"Where is your bear from?"

"Edward? My parents gave him to me as a present when I was very young. My father brought him back from a trip to Germany. He worked a lot over there."

"But I thought you're parents were...I thought the girls sent here had parents from poor backgrounds."

"Not all of us started that way. My father died and my mother couldn't pay back his business debt. They sold our house and our furniture and nearly put my mother in a debtors' prison. We had nowhere to live but the streets. Mother earned money where she could but it was never enough. Then winter came. Mother got sick and...that was that." She scrubbed harder at the stove top. "I was lucky to be found by Lord Marshfield. He was in charge of the Institute for the Betterment of Girls. He was so full of promises. He seemed really sweet, actually. Maybe he doesn't know what goes on over here," she added in a hushed voice.

"So Edward is German?"

"Yes, but he understands English perfectly well." They giggled.

"Thanks for helping with Nelly," Sallyanne said under her breath.

"It's a crime what that woman is doing. You girls have rights, you know, and I promise I'll do my best to fix it. We have to start by telling the authorities."

Sallyanne smiled at her courageous friend. "You're a really stand out girl, Elanora Lacey."

Elanora stopped wiping at crumbs, wondering what it was about those words that struck her heart. "Nobody's ever noticed me before," she said staring down at her hands.

"How could they not, you're remarkable!"

"It's true. Nobody's ever really noticed me until I came here."

Except for Ash.

### Chapter 24

Miss Gwendolyn Barton had long since abandoned Sunday School classes for the girls as, even to her, the hypocrisy of her actions stuck like spines in her throat. Consequently the girls were free to play for a few hours on a Sunday morning. Miss Barton stared out at them through the window. She couldn't wait to be rid of that red head. She added up her column of figures again and scribbled incriminating notes in the margins outlining every vile event that had transpired between Nelly and her master. It was almost worth sending that girl straight away, she thought, trained or not. But if she couldn't even scrub a potato she could damage her reputation amongst other potential clients. More importantly, it was her spirit that needed breaking. It would do no good to send such a wilful child into such an environment. And, of course, the longer this business operated successfully, the greater the repercussions for you know who. She tried to wipe her smile away with the end of her pen. Yes, only the finest workers. And the most compliant. That's how you could ask the highest price. That's how you ran a successful child slave trade. _"_ And that, Dear Gentlemen of the Board, dearest Mister Marshfield Junior and Senior, was how your lives would be made a living hell," she smirked, underlining the grand total.

She glared out the window again. The girls were grouped together outside and she didn't like it. They were down on their knees, their hands in prayer. Her throat constricted and she swallowed a wad of bile.

The girls gathered together at the edge of the playground dangerously close to the bush.

"Can't we just sit 'ere, Elanora? I don't want to get too close to...that," said Olive, nodding at the trees. In their beds late at night they whispered stories of goblins that grabbed naughty children. Long fingered, skinny legged half men who licked clean their bones and hung their skins to dry by billabongs. Their fears had worsened since Nelly's death, so much so that they didn't dare set foot on any undergrowth.

"Of course you can," said Elanora. "But there's nothing really to be afraid of." _As long as the_ _beasts don't come_ , she thought.

Elanora chose the base of the gum tree as a suitable place for Nelly's memorial as it was in the same place the Strangler had been. Where the gum ended up was a question that hovered in her mind, but she concentrated on the events at hand.

Kind words were spoken and prayers were said, then the ribbon and the flowers were placed in a small hole followed by the fig fruit Elanora had already poured her love into. Merrylamb and Edward had a front row seat on a gum tree root and watched the solemn proceedings. Elanora looked at the girls and smiled before taking a long stick and drawing a triangle set inside a circle. Inside were the three gifts for Nelly.

_Three circles_ , Elanora thought, contemplating the coincidence.

The rest of the girls knelt in respect.

"Stop it girls, get out of the dirt!" shouted Miss Barton hurtling towards them.

The girls jumped up, brushing the dust from their pinafores.

"What is this?" she demanded.

"It's just a hole, Miss Barton. We're throwing some things in it. It's a game," said Elanora.

"A game?" she squinted suspiciously at the girls who hid their eyes under the brim of their hats. "Then what were you praying for?"

"We weren't prayin' for no-one, Miss Barton," said Olive with wet eyes.

Barton picked up a scent and set her jaws. Nelly was dead in the old shed and the coincidence didn't pass her by.

"This is what I say about your game!" she shouted, snatching the contents of the hole and flinging them high into the air. "And your prayers!" She scuffed dirt into the hole as the gifts rained down on her head. She shook her fist hysterically. "Olive Pendleton, into my office. It's the cane for you for having such a filthy apron." She stormed off with a frightened Olive trailing behind.

Elanora searched frantically for the fig fruit but if it fell to the ground she couldn't find it. "The fig, the fig," she repeated numbly, blood draining from her face.

All the girls helped scour the ground for it. Nothing. The ribbon, the flowers, all landed at the base of the gum. The fruit was probably swooped upon by a bird. It definitely wasn't in the soil. She clutched for her plait. It too was gone. Everything gone. The girls mumbled apologies and hurried back to the dormitory before further punishments were doled out.

Alone. Stuck again.

She lay down in the dirt, tucked Merrylamb under her arm and closed her eyes.

"No just leave me here."

"You've been lying there all day and Miss Barton is going to come back for sure. I've seen her watching you from the window. Just come back to the room. Please."

"No."

"It's almost dark, Elanora. You've missed supper, now do come on."

Elanora sat up, "I'm not going back to my room."

Sallyanne raised her eyebrows. It had been a long day and all she could think of was sleep.

"I'll come back later."

"You're not going away are you?" Sallyanne asked, suddenly afraid.

Elanora ran her fingers through her cropped hair, "Not tonight." The smile she gave Sallyanne was taken as mild reassurance and she headed back to the dormitory.

The curved rim of the moon pressed into the sky like the halo of a sleeping angel on a vast velvet blanket. Elanora lay at the base of the gum gazing up through its leafy tips when a deeper shadow appeared, rising up from the dirt. A corseted shadow. Sinister and cruel.

"What sort of a thick headed creature are you that cannot learn even one simple lesson?"

Elanora closed her eyes. She imagined the fig, swelling and sprouting. She opened her heart with love for the plump seed pot, stroking it in her mind's eye, speaking softly to it, caressing it. Perhaps she could connect with it, find it, grow it.

"You stir up nothing but trouble here and lead my girls astray with your lax manners and insolent attitude. You are no better than a lowlife animal and it is time to break you in." Miss Barton brandished her caning rod, running it through her hands. "Or break you, in trying."

Elanora shut out the noise focussing only on the seed. She loved that seed for all the hope it offered. For its life which was so cherished. So desperately sought. She smelt the sweetness of its fruit, felt the cool of its shade, the smooth trunk with its curves and folds. Her blood began to stir.

"At least you've learnt to hold your tongue. I should never have taken you in, you ungrateful vermin," she said almost choking on her thick tongue. "A job with Mr Farner will be just what you deserve. And I'll tell him not to bother sending you back. He can toss you to the crows."

She sliced the cane through the air whacking it onto Elanora's shoulder. Pain racked her but Elanora's eyes remained firmly shut.

Please little fig, live. If I can give you a soul, let it be so.

Miss Barton coughed. Her raised arm wavered. She coughed again. Her head tightened as if the pins were poking into her scalp. She swallowed hard at the obstruction in her throat, but nothing passed. She gagged and doubled over, leaning her weight on the cane. She reached her fingers into her mound of hair and probed her scalp, feeling a round pellet under her fingertips that she couldn't shift. Brown tendrils peeped out from her puffy bun.

She put her hand to her throat trying to dislodge a clot. Her mouth opened and closed and she stamped the cane into the dirt. Brown tendrils searched like worms down her face. Eyeless. Purpose driven. Down they descended, smoothly now and swelling. She clawed at them with her hands, releasing the cane, making no sound as the tendrils grew into limbs then into trunks that pinned her to the ground. Her eyes closed and her body disappeared inside the consuming flow of bark.

Elanora's eyes remained shut as she went deeper into a trance. Her blood was on fire and if she moved it would have seared her organs and skin. All she could do was be still and send her love out into the fig.

The expanding tree flowed around her body in a tender embrace sending its shoots skyward. Not one seedling, but a fruit full of seeds vying for life and growth. As they grew they used the eucalypt as a ladder to climb higher and higher into the night. From the summit they sent down more trunks, securing their bulk, hungrily devouring the gum before they stopped. Unified by purpose and design the many trees became one. Its leaves shook once, twice, then settled into stillness.

Elanora's eyes flickered open. She gazed up at the thick leaves swaying gently in front of the angelic moon and its starry companions. The roots of the fig made a perfect V around her body. She breathed deeply and tasted the fresh night air.

How kind of Miss Barton to bring back her fig.

### Chapter 25

"Mr Johnson?" Ashden asked, his face reddening at the obvious discomfort his appearance was causing.

Mr Johnson's lips parted then shut. Ashden stepped further into the room which only sent his old teacher pressing further back into his bed, fearfully raising his sheet.

"It's all right Mr Johnson, it's only me. I came to see if you were okay. It's been such a long time and I've got a lot to tell you."

The old man blinked and lowered the sheet a fraction ready to reef it back should any blows come his way. _Perhaps it was madness, after all_ , thought Ashden.

"You're not hurt?" Mr Johnson squeaked.

"No I'm fine, I always have been."

"You still go into the Timefold?"

Ashden stopped. "The what?"

Mr Johnson's eye twitched. "The Timefold."

"You never told me what it was called." Ashden felt a flush of something close to anger but let it go. "Yes, I've spent ages there," he said.

"So you're all right then?" Mr Johnson said with unreadable eyes.

"I'm perfectly fine."

"And you came to talk? Why?" he asked, once again tugging nervously on his sheet.

"I need help and you're the only one who can help me. I got someone into trouble and now I need to save her. I don't have anyone else to turn to."

Mr Johnson sniffed the air and his entire countenance changed. He dropped the sheet from his face and his eyes brightened.

"Come here, Ash, it's marvellous to see you, my boy, simply marvellous. What a relief!" he grabbed Ashden around the shoulders in a hearty one armed hug. "Oh, I feared I'd never see you again. What a relief! Ashden, how is the Timefold? Is it safe?"

Ashden was the one to now shift uncomfortably.

"Tell me, did you meet that old bear?" he persisted, avoiding Ashden's eyes and holding his breath for the answer.

"What bear?"

"The one I warned you about before you went in?" Mr Johnson's voice rose noticeably louder.

Ashden sat on the edge of his bed. "You never mentioned a bear. You never mentioned anything much, to be honest." Again Ashden stemmed a rising irritation.

Mr Johnson paled as his mind shuffled through the memories. "Did you see _any_ of them?"

"Any of who?"

Mr Johnson glanced furtively out the window. "The animals," he whispered.

Ashden sighed. "Yes, and that's why I'm here! A friend of mine is stuck in there. In the Timefold. And I'm afraid they'll will find her."

Mr Johnson made a silent oh and closed his lips, nodding as he digested the news. A glimmer of hope lit his eyes. He pushed himself up in the bed becoming more animated. "Now tell me about your friend."

"I met her at school. Her name's Elanora and she's like us. But she's more than that. She _creates_ life in toys all the time. And not just toys, every pet she has is alive. She doesn't even know she's doing it."

Mr Johnson's mouth went dry. "Ah, a Soulmaker like that is special indeed." His face drained of colour and he gulped. "Where is she now?"

"I took her into the tunnels just for a look around but when we went to leave she jumped out of the gateway at the last second and she never came back out."

"Oh! That's very bad," Mr Johnson shook his head. His face unreadable once more.

"When I tried to get back, a guy from school started fighting me right on the gateway, under the fig," Ashden paused to take Eskatoria out of his bag, "Then he did this," and he showed him the torn pieces, "and the tree came alive and tried to kill him."

"My, that's very, very bad, although he was a dreadful boy to do such a thing." His eyes shone like wet pebbles in a dry creek bed as he took the pieces, almost greedily, from Ashden's hand. "At least there's no blood. We can stitch her back up and she'll be good as new. You said the girl has not come back out?" he asked, continuing to inspect the monkey but with half an eye on Ashden.

"Well now the worst thing is that I can't get back in because the roots have spread all over the gateway."

"No gateway? So your friend has lost her way out and we've lost our way in." Mr Johnson stuck out his bottom lip in deep thought and tugged on his ear.

"While we were in there we found soulings that the animals had attacked and totally destroyed."

"Soulings?"

"She called them soulings. The living toys. The replicas."

"Oh," he said. "No, not a good situation at all," he continued, but with the merest hint of relief in his tone. "How well does she know the Timefold?"

"Hardly at all. We were only there a few hours."

"Grim news, lad, very grim." His fingers became agitated. "Pass me that plastic tub there, will you?" he said in an almost singsong tone.

He reached in and took out a needle and thread and while they talked he sewed Eskatoria back together again.

"Ash, we've got to work on getting back to the Timefold to find out if she is alive... That's so true, it certainly is a striking garden. I'm particularly fond of the oaks. Oaks are very nice."

Ashden looked up puzzled at the sudden turn of conversation. Mr Johnson had hidden the toy under the covers and lay calmly on the bed with a blank expression on his face.

"It's almost time for lunch, Mr Johnson," she said, giving Ashden a sharp stare. "Everything all right?"

"Yes, he likes the garden. I couldn't take him for a walk, could I?"

"Absolutely not, he's not in any condition for such a thing. I think you've already stayed long enough. Say goodbye and then out you go." She spun on her heel, but before she left she turned her head, "Has he given you the money?" and stared boldly at Ashden until Mr Johnson said, "Yes, yes, a good deal."

Ashden rolled his eyes at the matron as she left. Mr Johnson nodded and tsk tsked.

"What are we going to do?" Ashden asked.

"There may be hope. Replicas only came into existence since toys were invented. Soft toys, you know the type of course. Over time they seem to grow more and more...alive, shall we say. What if we could find one dating back to those early years? Imagine its strength? It may be just what we need, combined with the power of the two of us, to open up another gateway under the fig. After all it can't be gone forever. It might just need coaxing."

Ashden's lips parted in a smile. "I may be able to help with that. But how will you get out of here? Are you allowed to leave? Can you even walk? I haven't even asked how your health is."

Mr Johnson's face wrinkled as it closed over his thoughts. A moment later it relaxed and he grinned. "Lad, I'm as fit as a fiddle, don't you worry about that. Matron thinks I'm medicated to the hilt, but I'm not," he whisked his legs out from the covers and hopped awkwardly over to the shelf. He took down a book and opened the cover revealing an assortment of pills as colourful as a candy bowl, hiding in the cut out pages. "While I'm not strictly allowed to leave," he said conspiratorially while closing the cover. "I have the means at my disposal. The only thing stopping me has been..." he sucked in his lips again and popped them out, "you."

### Chapter 26

Ashden watched the scenery blur from the train window, relieved to be out of the Sanatorium, although the antiseptic stench clung to his clothes and kept his eyes itching. Mr Johnson promised him a week and he'd be out. Of course he would need that time to organise a break out from an asylum! But if getting out was that easy, why hadn't he done it before? Why stay in a place like that if you had the means to leave? Ashden rubbed his eyes. There was something he wasn't seeing right, but what was it? Thoughts of Elanora returned, wiping Mr Johnson clear from his mind for the rest of the ride home.

There was one final detour Ashden wanted to make before going home and he hurried along the street towards it. It was the first time since leaving the Timefold that he'd had the chance to check this one place and he was as nervous now as he had been staring up the driveway of the sanatorium that morning; only more so, once he finished rubbing his eyes.

The sign Lacey and Lacey Business Services and Accounting still hung above the door. The extensions still groaned and yard was still weedy. Ashden stepped up to the door, noticing the absence of animals. It was the only change. He took a deep breath and was almost smiling when he knocked on the door.

Mrs Lacey answered looking relaxed with her hair caught up in a towel.

"Oh, hi, I'm...from down the road. Um, I was wondering if...everything was okay here?" He could barely stop himself shouting Elanora's name and running to her bedroom.

Mrs Lacey turned down the corners of her mouth and stuck her bottom lip out, unattractively. "Yes, why wouldn't it be?"

"Oh, it's just that....we don't have any power and we wondered if it was the same everywhere."

"As you can see, there are lights on and we're fine."

He shuffled his feet caught between staying and bolting, wondering how to spit out the next question. "Mrs Lacey, is your daughter home?"

"Kid, none of our daughters have been home for nearly seven years. Not to stay, anyway."

Ashden's skin froze. His tongue shaped each word as if mixing through wet cement. "Um, Mrs Lacey, I was wondering if you knew anyone called Elanora?"

She screwed up her eyes and shouted over her shoulder, "Kevin, do we know an Elanora?"

There was a rustle from the inner rooms, "Who wants to know?"

"Sorry, sir, I just wondered," said Ashden as Mr Lacey appeared in his tracksuit.

"No we don't know any Elanora's," he said. "Funny question. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason. Mum and I were just talking about people who used to live in the area. Anyway, thanks."

"Hope your power's back on soon," Mrs Lacey said as he left.

"We did know an Ellen Watersley, I think that's as close to an Elanora as I know," Mr Lacey called to his retreating back.

Ashden responded with a robotic wave as his throat set hard.

So that was it. Elanora Lacey had been wiped out of existence.

Lost in his daze, Ashden nearly tripped over a clump of weeds at the bottom of the driveway and stopped to steady himself. A rusty shape caught his eye and he looked to his left. Standing shakily was Elanora's old ridgeback. "Cooper?"

Cooper stepped forward, tail wagging low and eyes round and full.

"Come here boy," he said, meeting the dog half way and squatting to hug his neck.

"She's gone, Coop, she's gone and it's my fault. I got her into danger 'cause I didn't tell her anything. I didn't tell her a single thing!"

Cooper licked his face and positioned his head to stare eye to eye.

"I know. What did I really know _to_ tell?" Ashden rubbed Cooper's head and rose to standing. "Want to come home with me, old boy?"

Cooper's jaw opened in a doggy grin and stepped in front of Ashden to lead the way.

Consumed as he was by the reality that Elanora was gone, Ashden didn't notice his mother staring blankly at a worn and faded photograph. She stared and stared, circling her index finger round and round her temple, as the picture of her two year old son cuddling a baby on their lounge tried to tell her something important.

### Chapter 27

Blasted awake by the alarm. Leaping out of bed, another journey, another fortune to be found. The invincible hero, rescuing soulings, vanquishing the enemy, stealing from the rich in another time and another place, the perfect crimes for the perfect future for Sylvie and him. Charge! Down the hallway! No Sylvie, go back to bed, don't let Papa hear you. I'll be back with a bag of gold, then we can go, I promise, then we can go.

He hammers down the wooden staircase living a dream, each railing a spear ready to run him through if he hesitates. The foot of the stairs, she whispers at the top of her tiny lungs, "Will, Wait, wait, take me with you. Take me with you!"

" _When I get back we will go away. I'll get you away from him and you'll be safe." Slam, he's out and running, don't look back, crash, therrump, keep running don't look back. No you didn't hear anything. Just this one more trip to the Timefold, one more bag of gold...even diamonds"_

Mr Johnson woke up in a sweat. He checked the clock. 5:45. "I'm sorry," he said and wiped his eyes.

Brimming with purpose once more, years of stagnation over, he put on his old brown suit, fastened his tie and tapped down his hat. The last of his possessions fitted neatly into his beaten leather case. The last of his possessions.

He sat back on the bed and stared out the window. He cleared his throat. Yes, it was time to go. And quickly. He scrutinised the paper in his hand once more. It may not have said Certifiably Insane in those exact words, but it amounted to the same.

When charges had been brought against him, the truth he told about the Timefold had saved him from a jail cell and kept him safe from the beasts who wanted him dead. Being insane was a much safer option all round. But who knows. Maybe he was.

The grief for his dead sister had never passed. The scars from his father's abuse still hurt and the sight of his body strangled by the fig still shocked. The brokenness of his mother and her distrust of him, her vile new husband and hateful step sister, his hunger for friendships that never bore fruit. Was he crazy yet? What about the pact to betray the boy for access to the gateways? Wasn't saving his sister's life worth that? Weighing that up over and over and over could drive anyone mad. And now, outside, didn't beasts still lurk for him? They left him for dead in the shower but would they be back? Every shadow made threats. They didn't need bars to keep him locked him up. He needed the fluorescent lights and the nurses and the sentence itself to keep him safe because he knew the real reason he felt like he was going mad every day and fighting his sanity to escape his burden. Guilt.

Mr Johnson removed his hat to wipe his brow. His gaze went to the bed and the inviting hospital whites. He should stay. He had told Ashden a week but he needed more than that. He ran his hand over the top sheet, closed his eyes and counted.

New thought. Ashden had succeeded where he had failed. He delivered the right Soulmaker to the beasts. They were now satisfied and he would be free to return. He could drink from the lake and heal his mind completely then he could find a gateway back in time to save Sylvie. Mr Johnson took a green pill out of his collection, pleased he had saved enough. With his new thought and his pill, his anxiety would pass. As long as he didn't think too hard about that other girl. About Elanora.

Fifteen minutes ticked by.

Mr Johnson stood up and screwed up the letter. Indefinitely consigned to permanent psychiatric care or to stand trial for...Lies!

_If the girl is still alive I will help her. If not, I'm in the clear!_ he thought, satisfied at the rightness of this decision.

The strum of nails on his door made him start. The matron stood in the doorway, observing him. She stared with her usual hardness but it didn't have quite the effect when she was dressed in casual pants and blouse. She gestured with her head and Mr Johnson took the handle of his case firmly in hand before leading the way out of his room. She followed him out along the corridors, her note of resignation effective immediately lay on the desk and she tossed her set of metallic claws onto it as she left.

In silence they climbed into her hatchback and ground the gravel drive into tracks.

"I must say, you have surprised me, Mr Johnson," said the matron as they pulled up outside the train station. "If you hadn't softened the blow, I would have taken great insult at your deception. Insane indeed," she smiled thinly, stroking the velvet pouch poking out of her jacket pocket. "Watch yourself out there."

"And you, Matron."

As he slammed the door she yelled through her window, "It's Matilda," and floored it away from him, dark hair flailing in the wind, pink striped lips smiling.

"Oh yes William, it was worth it," he said to himself as he headed, eyes down, hat low, for the train. In a few hours Matron Matilda would be on a plane to Europe with a spoonful of his diamonds in her pocket. How clever of him to have concealed them in the framed photograph of his sister. The Timefold had yielded much profit for all the loss it had inflicted.

Mr Johnson took a deep breath, boarded the train and sat with his eyes fixed on the seat in front, wading through his muddled thoughts. Exactly which purpose would he be returning to? Which girl was he saving?

Caramel walls with black cankers consuming light and warmth. Down the tunnel, bestial muzzles snatching at him from festering patches. His sword brandished, a beast chasing his ankles. Falling against the wall, bitten and bleeding, a gateway to hide, away from danger. What was that therrump at the foot of the stairs as he left the house, nothing that wouldn't wait. No I didn't hear a thing. Save yourself, use a new gateway, there's safety in a new time and plenty of treasure to steal, you can always go home and help Sylvie later.

His head jerked him from slumber. "Forgive me," he whispered and hurried to the opening doors of the train.

Mr Johnson's heart beat noticeably fast as he walked on stiff legs to Wallsend Lane. He checked his watch and walked faster, refusing to look sideways.

The laneway was in a decrepit state with half demolished buildings and debris everywhere. The wind picked up and rattled strips of metal and flapped at awning cloths for his attention. It swept up dust and chip packets to fluster his face and it moaned as it barrelled through the huge dumpsters. He secured his hat and carried on down the street towards the second hand shop at the end, gulping down a double dose of green pills.

Chimes sounded frantically as he fought the door open in the wind. "Ooh Mr Johnson, do come in out of that horrible weather. So lovely to see you, come on through and let me take your hat," Nory greeted him warmly.

"Hello Ma'am, Ashden, sorry I'm a bit late." Mr Johnson put his case down beside the chair he was offered.

"That's all right. It's good to see you. Did everything go okay?" asked Ashden finishing his third cup of tea.

"Yes, yes. I must say it's a little strange being on the outside after so long cooped up." His hair certainly appeared to be enjoying its freedom, sprouting like mushroom clouds at his temples. He settled back into the chair and gave his legs a shake before taking the cup of tea delivered in a flurry by Nory.

"So, gentlemen, you really like my teddy bear? Ashden said you want to hear all about him. How wonderful that he's going to be featured in a book about famous teddies. And what makes you so interested in bears, Mr Johnson?"

"Well, I'm very interested in soft toys generally, but especially bears. I've been researching their origins and have become quite captivated. I've found it's often the older toys that seem better loved. Ones like yours, for example. Perhaps children today don't love soft toys as much because they have so many different playthings to choose from. They're always changing from one to the next and never love one long enough or hard enough, not enough to bring it to life in any case."

"Yes, they seem almost alive, some toys, don't they?" said Ashden quickly to cover for Mr Johnson's lapse into the truth. He smiled and gulped his tea. "Nory said her bear belonged to her mother who came to Australia back in 1911."

"Well, we do have a rare specimen then." Mr Johnson leaned over and gave the old thing a pat on the head, shivering with delight. "Why don't you tell us all about his history?"

Nory beamed at them, crossed her ankles against the old tapestry armchair and began.

"My grandfather gave this bear to my mother after he had been abroad for business. They were just becoming the latest thing in children's toys and he was lucky enough to have visited the factory where they were made."

"In Germany, by any chance? The Steiff factory? " Mr Johnson's cup rattled on the saucer.

"I believe that's right," Nory answered. "He knew his little girl would love it and she did. It meant a lot more to her later that year when her father passed away unexpectedly. But you probably don't want to hear all about my family."

"Oh yes, it makes his story more interesting. It's his family too," said Mr Johnson.

Nory smiled, "My grandmother was devastated, of course, and they had to sell everything to pay off his debts. She worked so hard for them both and it took its toll. She passed away herself from an illness and my mother was taken in by a poor girls' charity." Nory shifted uneasily and took out her hanky. She knotted it up and wrung it straight, then gave her glasses a clean before settling them back on her nose.

"Oh Mr Johnson, now I'm going to tell you something my mother never knew, but I'll only tell you if you promise it won't go in your book. It's been on my chest for years and I think this is quite the time for me to tell it, after all I couldn't tell my dear old mum. But," she said quietly, "my mother was only _told_ my grandmother died. I checked the births and deaths register and her name wasn't there. I might have thought she was just a nobody and no one noticed that she died, but I found her real death certificate dated 1927. Mr Johnson, I believe my grandmother gave my mother up to the institute herself." She dabbed her eyes with the creased hanky.

Mr Johnson put a consoling hand on her knee, "In those days, Nory, mothers wanted the best for their children and sometimes the best was to give them a chance at a life they couldn't provide. Don't think badly of her." He gave her knee a gentle pat.

"Yes, I'm sure you're right. Anyway, I won't forget the name of that charity house, The Institute for the Betterment of Girls," she sniffed. "They had rich patrons who paid for young girls to be shipped off to Australia for a better life."

"Yes, I've read about that sort of thing. They'd been doing something like it since the 1600's to places all over their Empire. But I didn't think it was happening in Australia till the 1920's," Mr Johnson said, tugging his ear.

"Oh, I can assure you it was. And very illegally. The matron who ran the school over there in Scrubstone was actually selling the girls under the orders of the Founder. My mother had some frightful stories about living there. Anyway, I haven't much mentioned my bear during all this, have I? Well he was a real comfort to Mother in those days but she had to keep him hidden because she didn't want that woman to take him away.

"Strangely enough, one day the matron just up and vanished. The police were called in then the government got involved and the whole scandal was uncovered. In effect, a child slave trade. Thankfully all the girls were put into the care of a legitimate charity group and given a fine education. My mother moved to this town and got married. My father died in the war, God bless him, and she and I worked hard together, but we got by. I know my old mum wouldn't ever have sent me away," she sighed. "And every step of the way was Edward Arthur Jameson. My old mum wouldn't let him out of her sight. She knew there was something special in him. Her best friend had told her to look after him forever because he had a life in him that was as real as her own. You know how young girls are with their toys," she smiled.

Ashden nearly choked on his own breath, "What was the name of that friend?"

"That's an easy one, love, I was named after her. Elanora."

Mr Johnson and Ashden stared at Nory. "What happened to her?" they asked in unison.

Nory took another sip of tea, a little surprised by their enthusiasm for such a trivial detail. "Well, not long after my mother was married, she moved away. She came back on and off over the years. Mother always missed her when she was gone. The last time I saw her was at Mother's funeral. She did say something strange to me, though. And I did what she said because she meant such a lot to Mother."

"What did she say?" Ashden was stuck to his armchair by the skin of his pants.

"She said... I really don't like to say, love, because it's a bit morbid."

"Go on, Nory, it's very important."

"To the story," added Mr Johnson.

"She said before I pass on, you know what I mean, I should leave Edward in my will to a particular person in Scrubstone who would look after him as well as I have. She wrote the name down on a piece of paper and I did it, I added it to my will. My solicitor knows who it is but I never wanted to know in case it jinxed me!"

By this time Ashden's jaw was hanging so far open you could have put the entire tea cup in his mouth, with saucer!

Mr Johnson looked at Ashden then back to Nory, "Do you know the name of that person, Nory?"

"Like I said, Mr Johnson, I was never inclined to know. But I do have it written down somewhere. A copy of the will," she added in a trembling voice.

"Nory, do you think you can find that document?"

"I don't know why that ..."

"Think of the intrigue in the story, Nory. What a chapter in the book! Aren't you dying to know, Ashden?"

He nodded mutely.

Nory brought out her hanky and fluttered it about. Finally she rose to her feet to fetch her Last Will and Testament from the third drawer of her kitchen cabinet.

"It's in there, on the last page," she said presenting them a thick envelope at arm's length.

Mr Johnson reached inside and rummaged, peering intently into the opening. He withdrew a stapled stack with reverential care and both he and Ashden scanned the last page for the name.

Tears sprang into Ashden's eyes and he cradled his head in his hand, shaking. It had only been over a week since he had seen her, yet here she was reaching out to him from decades past.

"Are you all right, dear?"

"Nory, we know the person named in this document," said Mr Johnson.

Nory twisted her hanky, glancing from man to boy and back again.

"Are you sure you don't want to know the name?"

"Well, I..."

Ashden looked up at her with eyes that gleamed.

"Oh all right, then," she shrugged. "I'm really not the superstitious type anyway."

Mr Johnson cleared his throat and read from the page. "I, Nory Evans, leave my antique teddy bear, Edward Arthur Jameson, to Ashden Jaybanks of Scrubstone to look after and love."

"Yes, I remember saying those words, but my solicitor added in the name, you know," Nory muttered, reaching for her tea cup.

Mr Johnson smiled and held out his arm.

"Nory, _this_ is Ashden Jaybanks."

### Chapter 28

"Oh my word," Nory repeated robotically as they sat around an old dining table sketching on a piece of butcher's paper. She had believed every word about the soulings, convinced in her heart even with the flimsiest of evidence.

"This is our gateway symbol and we know it has something to do with access. Let's think again," continued Mr Johnson. "There's a circle with arrows around the outside and three circles inside a triangle on the inside."

"What if it's an arrangement of things. Maybe the three of us could be the points of the triangle. We can put our soulings in the centre," said Ashden.

"Worth a try," Mr Johnson said, looking up. "But Ashden, I don't have a souling anymore."

"Could you use Edward?" Ashden suggested.

"Oh my word," said Nory, dabbing at her lip.

Mr Johnson's eyes fell hungrily on the bear. "What do you say, Nory?"

She nodded, uncertainly.

"Do you think we have to go back to the fig to try it?" asked Ashden.

"Probably."

"Do you mean the fig tree in my garden?" asked Nory.

"You've got a fig?" They both stared at her.

"Oh yes, she's a big one too, love. Elanora planted that seed there herself when I was born. She said that fig had a mother as special as mine."

Ashden beamed. "I say we give it a go. We've got nothing to lose by trying."

Mr Johnson grabbed the souling from the chair. "Lead the way, good woman," he said, slipping a wad of envelopes into his case, unnoticed.

As they walked down Nory's pot holed driveway, the wind was still weaving about trying to bind everything up in knots. Ashden looked about apprehensively, remembering the animal that had threatened him on his last visit to Wallsend Lane. He couldn't have heard their growl with the wind whipping as it did, which made him all the more nervous.

Nory's fig was smaller than its parent yet it towered over two backyards. The trunk was less abstract and didn't drip down at irregular places along its boughs. That was the difference between a fig planted in the ground and one germinated atop a host. One stretched its way up, the other strangled its way down.

The leaves flipped in the wind, slapping against each other making it difficult to hear. It was dark under the canopy and cool. The three of them gravitated to the same spot among the roots to stand. A hush descended as they placed their soulings in the centre.

"Shall we hold hands?" Nory suggested. Nory wished she had one hand free to dab the tears from her eyes. Instead, they trickled down her face. She sniffed and blinked them away, her face to the tree top as they took their first step around an imaginary circle.

"Wait! Don't we need three soulings in the middle?" asked Ashden.

Suddenly the wind blew a full bodied gust under the fig bringing with it a monstrous dog that barged into their formation, clamping its brutish jaws around Edward Arthur Jameson. Nory screamed, Mr Johnson grabbed Eskatoria and Ashden stared wildly about, momentarily paralysed. The scene played before him like a movie and he was sucked into the part of actor. He sprinted after the beast, legs pumping like a celluloid athlete.

Down the driveway, leaping pot holes, swerving dumpsters, chasing the beast until it jumped onto a dangling shop awning, balanced carefully, then leapt into the top window. He ran inside through the downstairs door and took the rickety stairs three at a time, his legs a blur until the beast confronted him on the landing. White foam from its gaping mouth coated Edward Arthur and dripped onto the floorboards.

Ashden clenched his fists and sought out a makeshift weapon. The dog growled so loudly even the thick cloth body of the bear in its mouth couldn't dull it. He noticed the banister railings at odd angles in their frame and yanked hard with both hands pulling one free. The animal took a step back. While fixing its eyes on Ashden, it let the bear drop to the floor. Now its jaws were ready for a new catch. Ashden swung the railing at its head. The beast shied sideways, set its shoulders and stalked closer. Ashden raised the bar like a spear this time, visualising the target, just under the jaws.

All at once the steps behind him rattled violently and Nory appeared red faced and panting. The dog lunged at Ashden while his attention was diverted and bit into his arm. Nory advanced and kicked the beast with her sensible shoes but it lashed out, grazing her shin with its teeth. Its head thrashed between the two of them, snapping and foaming until it had them backed against the wall. Ashden held the railing, hoping for one last opportunity to swing.

In a final frenzied attack, the dog jumped its front paws up, one on each of them barking hysterically in their faces, teeth bared and saliva slopping, confused as to who to kill first. Ashden thrust the railing at the beast's ribcage. It didn't penetrate but was enough to pitch it to the ground. It thrashed about trying to reach the bear over by the landing. Ashden swung again and belted its rump. Half the dog bent grimly sideways but didn't retaliate. Its muzzle was down; searching.

Nory shouted at the beast and kicked again. Ashden advanced to inflict another blow when he stopped.

"Edward's gone!" he shouted to Nory. Having come to the same conclusion, the beast bounded past them to the broken window and leapt out onto the awning. They watched it speed away into the bushes beside her shop. Nory and Ashden started their own search, certain that the bear must be in the room somewhere.

Under the fig, the impact of heavy paws on Mr Johnson's back flattened him to the ground, knocking the wind right out of him. He couldn't see his assailant but it dug under him with sharp nailed paws to reach Eski, growling, salivating. Mr Johnson lay there choking on his own inhalations.

Where the blazes have you been? Sobbing mother, father stands off deep set in scowl. What do you mean, only been a minute?... The Timefold had failed to return him on time... So no kidnapping, no nothing you just left? Four years gone. Your sister's a year dead, fell down the stairs, where were you? You push her? Drunken father bawling through soul beast teeth and fists balled for attack. Mother shields her remaining child, bewildered child, cut to the heart by grief. Why didn't I take her? Why didn't I go back? ...Bestial rage, father pours spirits down, beaten mother flees with grieving child who stops to see. To watch the roots binding his father's neck. I promise I'll get you back, Sylvie, I'll get you back. I'm sorry. I love you precious sister, goodbye four years late, I didn't know, but hold fast. When my courage returns I will save you through time. I will go back to save you...

The beasts demand payment and their payment is harsh. Life for life...

But it doesn't have to be that way. Help me now to do what is right.

The fig tree sent its liquefied limbs pouring around him. It nestled him in a wooden cradle that hugged his form. His stomach lurched and air rushed into his lungs, forced in by his fast descent.

Mr Johnson lifted his head dreamily and blinked till the last smudge was gone. He breathed deeply and tried unsuccessfully to push his fingers into the lush walls that lit up caramel around him. He frowned. With narrowed eyes he scanned the tunnel ahead. It had been fifty three years since his last venture and he hadn't forgotten he was under threat of death never to return without fulfilling his vow, the vow he had bungled.

He was interrupted from his thoughts when Ashden and Edward Arthur tumbled on top of him. The two young men rolled apart and stared at each other. Their staring turned to laughter and they staggered to their feet.

"Mr Johnson, I presume!"

"That's Will to you, young man!"

"Not Bill?"

"Bill? Not likely, that's an old man's name."

"You might want to rethink the wardrobe then, if you're trying to lose the 'old man' tag," Ashden said, shaking free the corner of Will's brown striped shirt until it dangled over his plaid trousers.

Will looked down and smiled. He tucked his shirt back in then ran a hand over his head.

"I gotta say, I like what you've done with your hair," said Ashden

"What about you? Looks like you've actually _got_ some hair!" Will retorted with a raised eyebrow. They both laughed, but it petered out quickly.

"So Ash, what happened to Nory?" Will asked as Ashden picked up Edward Arthur, sodden with dog drool.

"She's back there. She can't get through the gateway but I told her to wait close by." He wiped the bear on his pants.

"How did you get Edward back?"

"The dog dropped him during the fight and when it went back, it couldn't find him so it ran off. A couple of rats had dragged Edward off when they saw the danger. Once they knew we were safe they dragged him back out to us."

"The beast didn't follow you to the gateway, did it?"

Ashden shook his head. "Where's Eski?" he asked.

"Right here, somewhere." Will circled around to find her.

"Ssh, listen. Can you hear her hum?"

Will nodded, but he couldn't.

"Here she is." Ashden found Eski face down a short distance off. Satisfied by a brief scan of her eyes, he wedged her into his back pocket and handed Edward over to Will.

"So seriously, how does it feel to be back in the Timefold? You've really struck the fountain of youth, haven't you?"

"It feels a heck of a lot better than being an old codger, that's for certain. But it'll take a bit of getting used to, I should think." He held his hands out, examining his supple skin. "Yes, it's great to be back. What about you?"

"Well I almost killed my first beast as a wimpy fifteen year old, just imagine what I can do now!" He let his eyes travel to the comfort of the walls and relaxed his focus, happy to hear his voice settle into its deeper pitch. An image of Elanora formed in his mind and he allowed himself to remember her spirit before turning to Will busy pressing his fingers against the wall. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing," said Will and withdrew them.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's do what we came here to do. We're not getting any younger, you know," Ashden said.

"Speak for yourself!" Will retorted and slapped his thigh. The pills rattled under the jolt. He smiled at how relaxed he felt already. He wouldn't need a pill, he was sure. Just one drink from the blue lake.

"Got any ideas how we'll find our chambers?" Ashden asked.

"Not a clue," said Will.

While they walked, Will's fingertips still felt the pressure of cold steel from where they had touched wall. Why had it refused to give under his touch? he wondered. Why so cold?

### Chapter 29

Ash and Will found their way to the first cavern in dusky light. The warmth had seeped away and the pink lit ceiling faded to a stony grey. Ash ran his hand along the surface of the wall, its texture rough. They looked at each other in grim confirmation, both tasting dust at the back of their throats. Ash stopped short of entering his cavern. His heart beat appeared out of nowhere; reminding him to move forward, step by step.

Inside, the once brightly decorated rooms lay ransacked. Ash saw his years of work destroyed and mouldering. Even the pile of books which had kept him occupied for hundreds of hours were scattered, burnt and dirty. The destruction didn't concern him as much as the fear of finding his soulings dead in the wreckage. Clouds of mould spores billowed around them as they heaved furniture and art works from place to place. But no sign of a souling, alive or dead.

"Over here," Ash shouted, levering up the side wall of the hen house.

Will scrambled over to hold it, dropping Edward Arthur for a better grip.

Ash bent down for a closer look, sifting through layers of ragged cardboard and solidified chunks of wall. Finally he dragged out a sagging lump of plush. Will let the wall fall back and stared at the lump over Ash's shoulder.

"There's no tear in it," he observed, "Is it alive?"

Ashden used his orb like eyes and clasped the ragged toy to his chest. "She is." A smile escaped him, "And she belongs to Elanora. This is her pony, Peggy."

"That's great," Will said, "Now, can you take me to my old chamber?"

"Of course, although you might not like what you find."

In his haste, Ashden pushed Peggy into the back pocket of his jeans, dislodging Eski who was dangling by a leg. She slipped quietly to the floor, the world lying sideways in her eyes. She couldn't see them leave but could hear Ashden's footsteps growing softer and softer behind her. The light dimmed and Eski felt a stirring in her heart. Panic. In the silence, a faint hum broke through. She focused on her sense of sight, making sense of the peripheral images she wasn't capable yet of focusing on. And then she saw him. Edward Arthur. Head down and discarded on a pile of tattered cardboard, almost smiling with happiness to be with a friend.

*

The oars dipped into the malty water. It took a lot of muscle to move through the thickening liquid but at least it wasn't easy to tip. The old bear peered over the side. Not even a reflection anymore, the beautiful blue just a memory. He rowed on. Finally they reached the fluid's edge and he leapt well clear of it onto the land. His joints jarred on impact.

"Are you coming or are you just going to flap there?" Petsy asked.

"Oh yes, I'm coming, wouldn't want to miss a minute of it! You just make sure you catch me this time!" tooted Pin Pot.

"What do you mean this time? There hasn't been a single time that I haven't caught you."

"Well you just wait till you don't catch me and then you're really in for it!" he squeaked and jumped from the rim of the boat into Petsy's waiting paws.

"There Pin Pot, you live to see another day."

"Many more days like these and I'm not so sure that's a good thing!" he trumpeted, climbing onto Petsy's shoulder.

"Oh you do go on," he sighed and they walked into the tunnels in search of a Soul Seeker.

*

The air was dense with soot and the multitude of paws stirred up grit that settled into their coats and worked its ways into their eyes and ears causing much shaking of heads and pawing at faces. No one wanted to risk licking, however. They had seen too many tongues rotting from the effect.

Tearclaw held her posture erect. She showed no sign of discomfort. They hated her and she knew it, and the only way of maintaining any respect was to be brutal.

"Hold still," she snarled from her cardboard perch outside the cavern. Nine snouts turned to her, dry as dust.

"We need water," one dog whined and Tearclaw jumped down, pinning him to the ground.

"I can solve that for you right now," she growled into his face. "If any one of you makes another complaint about water then I will personally rip out your throat. That should cure your thirst."

There was a disgruntled silence and Tearclaw took her place at the head of the pack. She knew they expected her to make them search the room, but she detected a smell from within that made her hesitate. The smell of life and synthetic.

"We will take these skins back to the barricade then join the workers. Once you are back on duty you will get your precious water. Pick up your pelts and let's go."

It was distasteful enough carrying around material skins but it was better than carrying live bodies, she thought. She gestured with her snout for them to move on, when one of the cats, a Siamese, dropped to a stalking position, flicking its tail back in the direction of the room.

"Replicas," the cat warbled in its predatory trance.

With an inward sigh, Tearclaw signaled her team to seek and savage the two cloth animals she could sense were inside.

"Wait," she growled. "Don't savage. Let's return these two alive."

*

Will picked up a handful of dirty cellophane pieces from the floor of his old chamber. He let them float down like broken butterfly wings. The shelves were empty and his wagon and crates gone. He got down on his knees and ran his hand over the back wall of the bottom shelf.

"Are you looking for something?" Ash asked.

Will bumped his head on the shelf above. "No, no. Thought there was a souling under here."

"I'm sorry, Will," Ash said.

"What for? I mean, you didn't do it."

Ashden frowned. "I know you spent a lot of time designing this room. I always loved coming here, the ceiling, the colours. It was a real work of art."

Still Will said nothing, sorting through memories to find why Ash thought he was responsible for making the cathedral like room. Of course. He wiped a hand across his upper lip. He had told Ashden that he had made it. That's what he had spent his time doing down here. Well, if the boy had known the truth...

"You're soulings had changed so much, too. They were starting to move, you know."

"Were they?" Will got up off his knees.

Ash put a consoling hand on his shoulder, "I just don't get how they can be so cruel to soulings. It's not like they are ever going to be a threat to them."

Will left the cavern, tight lipped.

"It's a shame we couldn't get to the next level of the Timefold and drop down on them, you know, a surprise attack." Will said.

"How many levels are there?" asked Ash.

"I don't know. I've never been to any but this one. But once I met an animal who talked about another level," he added cautiously. "Maybe it's just a story. You can't rely on them to tell the truth."

"Let's just keep going until we find some light," said Ashden.

"Yeah, and I'd like to see the lake."

*

"I'm sure this makes twenty times," Pin Pot chattered on, "twenty times nothing is nothing. No sign, no trace. How long does she have to wait? By the sounds of him he's too spineless to come back anyway."

"Now Pin Pot, I'm sure that's not fair. You know who his father was and he was a man who let nothing stand in his way. Although I do even wonder myself how often we can keep coming here given the danger about now. Too many years of decay gets under your fur and it doesn't do anyone any good."

"That's right, just look at my trunk! No fur at all! Oh I'll be stripped back to naked soon, ooh I'll have to have pins stuck in me just to look like hair! Ah, back to being a pin cushion when I had come so far!" he lamented.

"Pin Pot, you never had fur. You're made of felt," Petsy pointed out. "And I thought you made a very good pin cushion in the old days," he added.

"Huh!" snorted Pin Pot and rounded the bend towards the gateway.

"See nothing times twenty."

"Wait a minute Pin Pot," said Petsy, bending over to examine the ground. In the dust were footprints. Pin Pot leapt down for a closer look. "Four feet! We've struck the jackpot!" he hooted and circled about with his trunk in the air.

"Four feet. That is curious."

"Curious, shmurious, let's go get 'em! This place gives me the spinnies!" said Pin Pot, trotting after the footprints. "They're not going to like the chamber when they find it."

"No," agreed Petsy. "But let's hope they're still there."

*

A short way along the next tunnel, a glow appeared in the distance. Eager for the warmth it offered, they ran towards it. It was further away than either expected and they leant against the soft walls to catch their breath, lifting their faces to the dim pink light on the ceiling. Ash felt for Peggy who had been hanging from his back pocket and plucked her out, holding her in the comforting light. Her spirit stirred.

"You don't realise how much you really need the light till it's gone, do you?" said Ash.

"Yes, I suppose you're right," Will answered, glancing up and down the passageway. "How far off the lake would you say we are?"

"We might have missed the turn," said Ash, patting Peggy before returning her to his back pocket. He froze and slapped his hands to both pockets then sidestepped about searching, scanning. "I've lost Eski!" he cried, circling with his hands on his head. "We'll have to go back. Hey, have you still got Edward?"

Suddenly the walls around them flipped open like windows on an advent calendar and an assortment of animals sprang out wielding swords, spears, sharp teeth and claws. They shouted, barked and howled, till various blades pointed at their throats. Then there was silence.

*

"I don't know why you're the one complaining, Pin Pot! As far as I can see, I'm the only one actually doing any walking," Petsy said to the small elephant on his shoulder as they followed the footprints ever further.

"They should've just stayed where they were! They don't mind putting everyone out do they? That's what I say!" Pin Pot retorted. "We could've gotten them on the boat and back to base in a moment. Now we're in for a right trek."

The shadowy tunnel started to tighten around them.

"I mean, they come in they go out, they come back in, they send us running all about. Don't they know we're trying to help here?"

"Pin Pot, be quiet," Petsy whispered sealing his paw over the end of his friend's trunk. Pin Pot's ears flared out indignantly then flattened like deflated balloons as a deep growl chilled the darkness. Petsy took a tiny dagger from the pocket of his vest and rotated to locate the stalker. They heard nothing. Black shapes moved like ghosts. Petsy backed up against the wall aiming his blade straight.

A Siamese cat dived from a shadow and latched onto his neck, sinking in her claws and biting repeatedly into his thin fur. Pin Pot darted across Petsy's shoulders and bravely stuck his trunk into her ear. He blew a tiny dart into her canal and reloaded from his saddle bag. The cat yowled and crumpled to the floor, pawing frantically at her ear. Petsy jabbed into the shadows but his arm was soon stayed by another beast locking onto his wrist while yet another one clamped down on his other arm. Pin Pot was knocked to the ground narrowly missing being struck by the dagger as it fell after a bite to the pad of Petsy's paw. Petsy turned his head from side to side to avoid another furry head spitting into his face. Within moments the souling was overcome and fell to his attackers. Petsy, on his knees, was swiftly bound.

"Take him to the barricade alive," Tearclaw shouted, "He can join the monkey and the bear."

The wounded Siamese spat as she struggled to raise herself, head tilted to one side. She slashed at Petsy as he dragged past, keener for a kill than a sacrifice.

Petsy snatched one final look at Pin Pot who hid in the shadows, so small he had gone undetected. For an instant their eyes locked and the elephant took a tentative step forward. Petsy shook his head as his body rolled and bumped at the end of the rope. Pin Pot raised his trunk and fanned out his ears before stepping safely back into shadows.

### Chapter 30

"Stand down!" a voice commanded.

The animals relaxed and divided.

A young woman walked through them, her neck gleamed with a wide metallic band, a sword flashed at her side. Ashden's eyes were absorbed into her sunlit halo of hair. The blurred sections of her face came into focus at her eyes and he saw her completely and wonderfully. She flung down her sword and rushed at him, stopping short of throwing her arms about his neck.

"Elanora?" he gasped, stepping back, struggling to see the young girl he had come to find.

"You made it," she said. Her eyes sparkled but Ashden held back from entering them, instead noticing the mere hints of freckles on her nose and cheeks, her radiance, her beauty and...her age.

"I...I'm so sorry, Elanora. I couldn't get back straight away."

She held her finger up to his racing lips. "It's okay," she smiled, "Everything's okay."

Ashden couldn't keep his eyes still. They searched her for familiar signs. Finally they rested lightly back on her face and they stood together self-consciously. Will cleared his throat.

"Oh, this is Will," said Ash. "Mr Johnson that I told you about, if you remember. He, he's...he's grown up like you," was all the sense he managed. Elanora smiled at Ash then shook Will's hand.

"So good to meet you. Wonderful to meet you." Their eyes locked and she fingered the band at her neck. One of the animals nudged her side and she broke the stare. "Please, come with me and I'll get you to safety. Thanks friends," she added, turning to the animals, "at least we know that form of attack works. Let's all go back and rest."

"Elanora, wait. I've dropped my souling," said Ashden.

"Eskatoria?"

"Yes." He smiled briefly. "She must be back in the tunnels."

"Leave her Ash. My friends will find her. It isn't safe out here. You must follow me. Now, you didn't run into a couple of soulings did you? A bear and a tiny elephant? They'll be upset if they've missed you."

"No, we haven't met up with anyone," said Will.

They walked a few steps in silence until both Ashden and Elanora began talking at the same time. They grinned and Elanora gestured for Ash to continue. "You know, I just can't believe how much you've changed since I last saw you. It's just over a week for me and yet, look at you."

She looked at her feet, "It's been a lifetime for me, Ash."

"Oh, I've got something for you," he said pulling Peggy out of his pocket.

"Peggy," she cried, crushing her beloved pony to her chest.

"Now you look like the Elanora I remember," he said.

She beamed at him, wanting him to stare into her eyes. Not yet, she told herself.

*

Tearclaw and her team arrived back at the barricade with their bounty. Piles of rock and lengths of timber stacked up high, shielded them from the sheen of light eager to escape. She looked up as she often did to see the last rebellious rays not yet contained by their arrogant barrier. The light warmed the air through which it traveled, and it drifted like mist over them, supplying their only hope of life. Where it touched the ground there was momentary softness underfoot, but the shadows dried it up and the floor hardened and cracked as before.

"Bring the prisoners to me then plug the last of those holes!" The panther shook his paw at the heavens and the escaping light. He would block any view of it. It had become like yellow bile to him and he longed for the soothing darkness.

"You heard Panther. Do it!" she barked. They stared at her from sunken, dehydrated eyes. "Move!" she threatened.

Panther glided towards them looking between Tearclaw and her group.

"Thirsty are you?" he purred. "You've worked hard, loyal ones. Rest first then you can begin the fortification. Look to the needs of your group, Tearclaw!" he hissed.

Tearclaw backed away from him, head lowered. Her underlings smirked as they passed. She would never be accepted and that was fine with her. The panther's mutant offspring needed no friend.

She walked to the pile of timber and dragged a length over to be secured ever higher on the barricade. Thirsty and thoroughly sick of the darkness, Tearclaw watched her father scrutinize the prisoners her team had caught.

"Ah, one of the famous Tiquity Bears, I do believe. So pleased you could join us after all this time." Panther swooped rhythmically from his platform to circle the battered bear and his two silent comrades. "And I see another teddy so similar," he sniffed at Edward Arthur, "but this one's not a real bear like you, I think. You are old to these parts, are you not?" he purred thoughtfully, running his glazed eyes over Petsy.

"You take on more and more the appearance of life. How fascinating." He lashed his tail before lowering into pounce position so he was eye to eye with the souling. "You want to be a real animal, don't you? Well, today you are lucky, my friend. You are a lucky bear indeed. You and your stuffed replica friends will get to know exactly what it's like to be real animals." He leapt straight over the top of Petsy who struggled in vain against his bindings, before resuming his position on the podium.

"Zsa Zsa, is the pyre ready?"

Zsa Zsa scrambled over, raising a paw to his master from the foot of the stand, "Yes Master. Almost this very moment, Master. Final touches, we've had some trouble with Horace but almost around that now."

"Enough! The scent of soft toy must fill the air. I will purify the Great Destination of these unworthy souls, making room for the true heirs of eternity. Animals."

"What about your followers? Do they know your true intention?" shouted a valiant Petsy who had managed to free himself enough to stand.

"My only intention is to destroy every last, living replica because that as long as souls are granted to toy animals, true animals miss out. All our offspring are missing out on their right to life because of your kind."

Petsy's eyes were troubled. "I'm sorry you see it that way," he said. "It is unfortunate that a human has only one soul to grant. And unknowingly at that."

Panther stared in surprise.

"But that is not your real agenda, is it Panther?" he said, looking up. "Once you have wiped us out there are other animals you will deem unworthy, are there not?"

Panther's his eyes hardened instantly.

"Do they know you believe that the Great Destination should only be for those animals whose souls were given at birth? Those without memory of their human Maker? Those just like you."

Panther swooped on Petsy, muffling his voice with his furry bulk. "Who told you this?" he hissed, low and direct.

"You believe a lie, Panther. Even your soul was granted from a human Maker," Petsy continued.

"Liar!" Panther roared.

"You convince yourself you have a better birthright, but you are as tainted as all of us," he shouted as the howls of the gathering beasts almost drowned him out.

"Any of you who can remember the human who made you will be excluded from Panther's eternity. Did you know that?" Petsy tried to shout to the hordes, but their growls were relentless.

The panther lunged at him, muscles rippling. He hissed with the sour breath stored deep in his body and his spit dripping teeth gnashed Petsy's face.

"What do you know about any of this? I would kill you now, but your slow death will be a more pleasing sacrifice."

Filtered rays escaping from the barricade fanned around him. A single slim beam lit upon his coat scorching his black fur. He released a torrent of growls into the smoky air.

"The sacrifice is ready! To the pyre!"

*

Elanora stopped in front of two marks etched into the wall. She knocked in code triggering a blade to appear which sawed down and across like a knife through bread. Crumbs of wall fell as the slice swung out and two shaggy bear heads appeared. One of them grabbed Elanora's arm and yanked her inside. Ash and Will burst in after her but found her happily buried in their embrace.

"Don't mind Joey and Benbo," Elanora said, picking a few hairs from her mouth and smiling.

Ashden surveyed the room crammed with animals, maybe fifty. On the walls were racks of nets, traps, guns and phials of darts filled with a concentrate of tainted water. There were cages stacked in a corner, chains, padlocks and torches in crates.

"There's my wagon," said Will.

"Yes, we took that from your cavern as well as some of your other supplies when we rescued your soulings after the attack," said Elanora bending down to pat Scrufkin who had just begun circling her legs.

"You didn't find anything else there, did you?" Will asked.

"Like what?" Elanora looked up.

Will tucked in his shirt, "Oh nothing."

Elanora narrowed her eyes slightly and turned her attention to Ashden.

"We've been extending a network of secret tunnels to access the Great Destination and are preparing our final battle plan. That is, we hope it will be our final battle," she added grimly. "Come and drink. I'm afraid our supplies are low as most of the water has been tainted and isn't safe to touch. Remember the lake Ashden?" she asked. "It's like acid now, brown and horrible. We travel on it by boat now because I found out it joins up all sorts of places in the Timefold and the beasts can't use it."

Will's face twisted and his eyes darted frantically. "What did you say?"

"We travel on it,"

"No. The lake, the water. What's wrong with it?" he looked down, suddenly aware of Elanora's wrist, red in his grip. She glared at him and he opened his hand.

"She said it's changed. It's like acid. Are you all right?" asked Ash, rising to his feet.

Will pushed his fingers into his trouser pocket. His eyes lost their focus and his mouth opened and shut. "Ah, yes. It's just a shock. I guess I was thinking like the old man I used to be. I was never far away from medical treatment back then...Not used to not needing it," he said with a lopsided smile.

"Yes it can be hard, adjusting," Elanora said. "Ash, what's wrong?"

Ashden had turned his back on them and was pressing his eyelids. "What? Oh, nothing much. Just that the lake's turned to acid and I don't know why and there's another new word I've never heard of before and...Did you know about this Great Destination, Will?"

"Me? Ah no. No, what is it?"

Elanora's bottom lip disappeared between her teeth before she spoke. "It's the place souls go when the body dies."

"Heaven?" queried Ash.

"I think so. Maybe. Usually just the soul passes through but for soulings, it's different. They need their whole body passed through for them. The problem is that the beasts have built a barricade blocking entry to it so right now no soul can get through."

Ashden nodded, rubbing his hand at the back of his neck. "Do people's souls go through?"

"Apparently not. There's another way in somewhere else," Elanora said. "As for the lake, everything in the Timefold is affected by the light from the Great Destination. The more they've blocked it off, the more everything has hardened. This place doesn't like the dark."

Will moved his fingers against each other like fire sticks. "Did we tell you we met Nory? And Edward Arthur?" he said.

Before Ash could return to another question about the Great Destination, Will raced on, "What a wonderful old dear she is. A real character. We couldn't have made it without her and Edward Arthur."

Elanora nodded at him, turning again to Ashden who added quietly, "We got your message in her will."

"And my letters?"

Ashden frowned and shook his head, "What letters?"

"Whatever you left behind must have gotten lost or damaged or maybe it just hasn't turned up yet. Funny thing that messing about with time," said Will, pacing the floor, inspecting the weapons and rattling his pocket.

Elanora was about to say something else when Will continued. "I messed with time once..." but he never finished his sentence and the way he stared suddenly at his feet with wild, wide eyes stopped anyone from probing.

"Did you see my parents when you got back, Ash?" she asked, as Benbo handed them all cups. Will clutched his and sculled.

Ashden sipped. Its bitterness made his lips pucker. "I did," he wiped his mouth and wished it wasn't so dry.

"How were they?"

He looked into her open face. She was so much a young woman. So beautiful. "They were fine. Happy enough, I think. But it was like you didn't ever exist," he said softly and stared at the water, like bitter tea in his cup.

"I know it seemed that way, but I did exist."

"I know, you always existed for me, I never forgot you," he blurted and this time his face burnt hot. The animals raised knowing brows to each other as they followed every word.

"Thank you, Ash," she smiled and for a moment, closed her eyes. "But I mean, when I left the Timefold I ended up way back in the past, as you found out. I met my parents when they were just children and I got to know them a little." She phrased her last words carefully.

"They said they didn't know an Elanora, they only remembered an Ellen," he frowned.

"Ellen Watersley," she nodded and her eyes dropped.

"You were Ellen Watersley? You changed your name?"

"Yes," she stood up and took the cup from him keeping her eyes averted. "I changed it when I got married."

Every animal in earshot held its breath while Ash's stomach flipped and his face flinched, but an urgent tapping at the entry way distracted them all. The code tapped out again and Elanora rushed over to slice the door open herself. A pale blue elephant staggered in and collapsed in a heap, covering his head with his ears, sobbing.

Elanora gathered him up, holding him to her ear. Wheezes, puffs and grunts gave way to Petsy, beasts and captured. She inhaled deeply and surveyed the crowd.

"We can't wait any longer. We have to strike."

A murmur ran through the animals. Elanora moved to Ashden's side, lowering her voice, "Ash, you don't have to come with us. Scrufkin will take you back to the gateway."

Ash pulled at his fringe. "No, Elanora. I'm not leaving."

"But your mother, Ash."

"I'm not leaving."

Elanora gripped her bottom lip between her teeth. "All right then. Go over the battle plan again, Benbo."

While Benbo ran through the plan of attack, Elanora's eyes lingered on Ashden. She wanted him to meet her gaze, to scoop into her and find her again. So much time had passed. Would he like what he saw?

"Did you have anything to add...Elanora?"

"Pardon? Oh, sorry, Benbo. Ah, no, I think you've covered it," she said.

"Good. Take arms, friends. We fight for the soulings! We fight for eternity!" Benbo shouted and the animals cheered.

"Here," said Elanora, handing Ashden a tranquilizer gun at the edge of the crowded room. "And thank you."

He tried to catch her eye but she wouldn't hold his gaze. The sounds of battle preparations invaded the moment.

"Elanora," he started and paused. "I know this is a stupid time to ask, but. Do you have any..."

"Children?" she finished for him and shook her head.

His throat relaxed.

"And if anything happens, your mother will be taken care of."

His face dropped but he smiled regardless.

"I mean, Ash, there is money in your mother's account. Lots of it."

"But how?" Ashden pushed the hair off his forehead again.

"I never forgot you."

"Likewise," he said. Gently, he touched a thick strand of her fiery hair, but drew back as if it burned.

"Over here, Ash. We're going," called Will from the doorway, poison filled water pistol in one hand, blade in the other.

Ashden checked the trigger on his gun and the sword at his side, smiled briefly at Elanora, then followed.

### Chapter 31

The barricade almost completely blocked the light from the Great Destination. Where glimmers shone through, Panther insisted stones be ground to fit. The beasts had worked relentlessly dragging logs and branches, any building material they could find, from the streets of the Outer World, into the Timefold. It had knit together with all the intricacy of a bird's nest until it finally reached the ceiling of the cavern.

Anticipation made Panther's whiskers twitch. He looked at the figure of Petsy from his dugout lair high in the wall. The sight of the bear reminded him of a distasteful memory and his tongue flickered in and out. The metal poles in the barricade became the bars that trapped him in the zoo all those long years ago.

As a young cat caged and miserable, he had befriended a striking female wolf. She was lithe and brimming with energy, constantly testing the confines of the concrete box that was her home. Panther admired her from his cage opposite. He longed to converse with her, hoping to see a spark of spirit in her eyes so they could be equals. The season changed and the wolf weakened. Panther fretted over her dulling coat, her rasping bark. He lay with his chin on his paws and watched the veterinarian come and go and the zoo owner shake his head. The keeper's daughter visited the wolf every day, patting and stroking her. Panther watched, waiting for the child to love the wolf enough to ignite a soul.

The weeks passed with no change. Panther felt such aching sympathy for the sickening canine. If only she could have her eyes opened and think, reason, laugh. Then she would get better and they could be together. When the child arrived the next day there was a toy bear tucked under her arm. She squeezed it so hard it nearly burst. Panther watched as the child sat under the cage playing endlessly with the toy.

Sicker and sicker the wolf became. More and more desperate the panther felt as his friend was ignored by the toy obsessed child. Eventually, the wolf breathed her last and as the child came to pat her final goodbye, Panther saw the light of life in the eyes of the toy bear. His love was dead for eternity because the child had granted a soul to a bag of stuffing over a living creature.

The panther shook his head and licked his nose. The Tiquity Bear would soon pay. But how had he known his secret thoughts? He didn't recall sharing them with any other beast. It was true, of course. With the replicas crushed and excluded from the Great Destination, Panther would move on to cleansing it from unworthy animals. Any beast who could remember their Maker had too close a bond with humans. Any beast still attached to a human could never give total allegiance to him. Death to them all! Especially that bear! And following that triumph, he would break through to another layer of the Timefold where there would be more souls to judge. And if human spirits passed through that level, so much the better. What a judge he would make of them.

Panther's followers gathered at the base of his podium. His skin flinched as even the thinnest beams of light escaping from the blockade etched char lines in his coat.

"Bring them out," he shouted.

Zsa Zsa pranced at the head of a bedraggled procession with Jacub attached to his collar by a chain secured through the nose. Both of the bear's eyes had been put out and two scars like stitches on a stuffed toy were clearly visible. Behind him dragged a string net of soulings that scuffed in the dirt as he lumbered into the ring. Petsy's vest was ripped and he lay in the centre of the frightened soulings. Eskatoria was crumpled up beside him, bearing her own scars. Petsy reached out his paw to hers and squeezed. Eski's eyes grew rounder. At her feet she could feel Edward Arthur's paw and longed for the strength to hold it.

At the panther's signal, a chimpanzee came forward to open the net, scattering the soulings on the ground. With nimble fingers he attached tight leather collars around each neck.

"So you want to be real animals?" Panther crooned. "Let us see if you are prepared to pay the price."

The chimp strung the soulings together on a lead which he tied to a well-coiffed poodle, who dragged them around and around the ring to the jeers and taunts of animals. Finally they were strung up to one of the posts jutting out from the barricade and hoisted off the ground where they hung above the pyre.

"And how do you like your collars? Comfortable? All humans insist on collars and leads and harnesses."

"And whips and sticks and boots!" yapped Zsa Zsa to the approval of Panther.

An Alsatian leaped up to set them swinging by snapping at Petsy, the last on the rope.

"You know what humans do to animals, don't you?" the panther asked with a malevolent flash in his eyes and his whiskers taut as wire. "They beat us, shoot us, enslave us. We are their machines, their sport, their entertainment. We give up our offspring to die for them so they can eat our flesh and drink our blood. Yes, they need us for everything and we have sacrificed everything for them. Are you ready to do the same? Because until you are there will never be any Great Destination for your kind!" He flicked his tail again and a beast approached to light the pyre.

"Today, your sacrifice may make you worthy of your souls. You may make the Great Destination yet," he sneered.

Tearclaw stared up at the soulings, a whine issuing from her black lips. She compared the tales of abuse by humans with those she had experienced from the beasts themselves and wondered just how bad these humans could be. Her Soulmaker was innocent of any violence, she knew that much. Tearclaw glanced across at her father noticing how the darkness had hardened him till his coat was rigid and his eyes were hardened steel. She shook herself, reassured by a softness still in her coat.

The panther saw her and shot her a scathing look. He flashed a claw and the Siamese cat scaled the barricade to a timber beam and pushed until it swung directly over the flaming pyre. The crowd murmured and a short, sharp bark repeated steadily like the slow clapping of an audience impatient for the show. Just as the barking reached a crescendo, streams of brown liquid jetted over their heads and onto the flames, dousing them to an ember. The animals swung as one to face the saboteurs. There stood two young men, one aiming a tranquilizer gun and the other wielding an enormous water pistol.

Panther hunched for attack. "Kill them!" he roared loud enough to vibrate the barricade.

Ash and Will turned and ran as the dark animals thundered towards them. The tunnel narrowed and turned, and as the beasts trampled the bottleneck, nets released from the ceiling falling heavily over them. They writhed, gnashing their teeth at the cords as fellow beasts charged over the top of them.

The first four over the net found their legs snapped in metal snares. Still more beasts came with bloodthirsty howls. Ash and Will fired shots of acidic liquid which seared their noses. Thickly coated beasts suffered only mild hair loss and continued their charge. Several birds lost vital flying feathers and plummeted to the ground. Ash aimed the tranquilizers at the largest of the oncoming animals. He had only four chances to hit his target and, as a giant Rottweiler came within biting distance, he discharged twice before finding his mark. The thickset beast slowed then tripped over its paws and slumped into a motionless mound.

Ashden finally took a deep breath. Only moments had passed and yet his lungs were bursting as if he'd been holding his breath for an hour. He tightened his fist. The battle was already turning against them. He sucked another sharp lungful of air before shouting to Will to fall back. Dark ones gave chase as Ash and Will lunged at the wall thumping out a rapid code. Ten trap doors opened and their animal friends leapt out, fully armed to take on the hoard. Will and Ash dived into one of the portholes, sealing it up behind them.

In the tunnels the animals fought bravely with teeth and claw. Panther's army fought with the hidden power of darkness in their coats fueling a hatred beyond natural reckoning. Scrufkin stared into the eyes of the pedigrees who had him cornered. His hackles were raised and his teeth bared but his heart sank against their size. In a burst of courage he leapt over the thinnest of the dogs, narrowly escaping the jaws of a Labrador. As the pack gave chase, one of Elanora's injured cats gashed the Lab's stomach as it jumped her, sending it shrieking to the ground. It gave Scrufkin just enough time to scoot sideways and disappear into a tiny doorway opened for him by one of the bears. The rest of the fighters were strewn limp and near lifeless in the cold passageways. The army were inflated by their triumph and held their heads high as they returned to the cavern anticipating praise and glory to rain upon them from their leader.

"But where are the humans?" Panther shouted at them with teeth bared and spit spraying.

"They ran away into the tunnels, Master," said one.

"Then why didn't you hunt them down? Do you have a sense of smell for nothing!" ranted Panther. He dropped to the ground and paced the floor. The soulings continued to dangle overhead like a freakish mobile.

"Gather your weapons, light the torches, kill them all!"

### Chapter 32

Elanora, Ash and Will broke into the prison cell from a secret passageway. Elanora smelt the familiar stench from the den and signaled to the boys to wait while she crept inside for a look. Two skeletal half cats lay on rotten hay. So they have never been released, she thought, and what about the other offspring and Buttercup? Long dead, most likely. She was about to leave when one of the mutants, an angular bag of bones in the straw, opened its eyes.

Elanora rushed to its side. "There now, friend," she crooned, "You are all right. I'm so sorry I left you. I wish I could have taken you with me. Hold fast Izzie," she kissed her bony muzzle. Izzie tried to lick but her tongue was shriveled to the roof of her mouth and all that came out was her putrefying breath. Elanora cradled her for the brief moment it took for her last breath to pass.

Wiping her eyes, she caught up with Ash and Will and led them out of the prison. Ash took her elbow, "Are you ok?"

She pushed her hair behind her ears and nodded, distracted by the pressure of his hand on her arm.

Beasts guarded every entrance, protecting the barricade. Only light from the burning torches illuminated the scene. Angry animals jumped about like shadow puppets and overhead, the soulings swung by their necks. Pin Pot peeked out of Elanora's pocket, "Petsy!" he trumpeted.

"Look!" said Ash and pointed to a dozen of their animal allies, tired and torn from the initial assault, cautiously approaching through one of the tunnel mouths. The enemy stood their ground. The panther leapt onto the back of a beast to lead a charge.

The animals flung nets over the beasts but no sooner were they trapped than one of their kind freed them. Elanora's animals soon found themselves herded underneath the dangling soulings with a ring of beasts around them.

Suddenly, from outside the ring, Jacub rose to full height, his nose sucking in an old, familial scent. He balanced on his back paws and Zsa Zsa, still attached to his collar, lifted clean off the ground, his skinny legs waving frantically at the end of the chain. The brass ring through the great bear's nostrils dragged down and ripped out. Blood oozed down his face but he waved his head high, bellowing mightily.

Joey and Benbo stiffened at the sound. With an explosive burst of power they barreled through the enemy circle, growling and thrashing their heads as they tossed them aside like empty piñatas. The two young bears slammed against Jacub, filling the chamber with cries of joyful reunion.

"My cubs, my cubs," Jacub moaned, swinging his head and relishing their strength at last at his side.

"Elanora!" he called into the darkness, "Elanora! Thank you, I thank you!"

The enemy encircled them, twitching. Joey and Benbo snarled.

"Why's he thanking you?" Ashden asked.

Elanora's heart thumped in her chest. "He saved my life and I did something to thank him. Not a difficult thing, compared to what he did for me...that was hard." She rubbed the scar on her hand and bit the skin inside the corner of her mouth as they watched the beasts approach the bears.

Father and sons balanced on their hind legs. Blind as he was, the great bear had lost nothing of the warrior inside. And he knew his enemy well. "Bring down the panther!" he yelled.

The two bears scanned for the slinking beast but he had vanished. Jacub sniffed the air then pointed up. "Overhead," and there was the panther, balancing on the beam over the pyre.

"Attack!" screamed the panther and the army advanced.

Panther spied his enemy below. The defeated bear, overthrown leader of the beasts, siding with the soft ones. Hatred tensed his jaw. His muscles flexed and he sprang onto Jacub's neck while his cubs were distracted. He clung on with his claws deeply embedded and his face inches from the bear's.

"I knew you would side with the human enemy. Your kind always does," he snarled, biting into his throat. Jacub's blood spilt down Panther's chin. The taste made him bite more furiously and the great bear whirled about trying to shake him off while his sons were busy defending themselves against an onslaught of cuts and slashes from the animals whose chance had come en masse.

Will watched the panther and the bear writhing in battle with a keen eye.

"Come on!" said Elanora.

"Wait!" he yelled, "it's not safe."

Ash grabbed his shoulder, "Will, we have to fight."

"I know that, I mean it's too dangerous for her," and he pushed Elanora hard into the wall, while he charged ahead with his sword aloft. Ash raced after him, checking over his shoulder at Elanora. She was on the ground, stunned but uninjured.

"Go help the others! I'll get the panther," Will commanded Ash as he fought his way to the bear.

Will slashed his weapon in every direction, cutting through a line of beasts to get closer to the bear who danced unseeing with the panther at his throat. He held back, waiting.

Ashden spied the soulings swinging over the building flames. He scrambled back to his feet, jamming the handle of his blade into the temple of an animal menacing his ankle.

"Eski!" he shouted, "I'm coming." Ashden hobbled underneath the soulings without noticing the dancers swaying his way. "Hold still!" he cried, still looking up.

Suddenly Jacub tumbled under the black load and fell, pinning Ash's legs under his bulk. Ash yelled and the panther leapt clear, disappearing into the smoke. Ashden pushed at the bear's flank but it was a dead weight.

"Will, help!" he cried out, seeing his friend a short distance away. Will looked hesitantly at the bear then at Ash. He spun quickly to catch a glimpse of Elanora before he strode, sword ready, to the bear.

Ash lay at the tail end of the bear affording Will the opportunity to speak in private. He kicked the bear's muzzle with his shoe and watched as it sagged down, torn lips trembling over dark stained teeth. The bear, in his semi consciousness, smelt another scent from the past in his nostrils. There was too much blood to be certain, but he sniffed again, trying his eyelids, out of habit, but still they refused to open.

Will put down his sword and pulled out a knife before dropping to his knees to stare into the scarred face of the once great bear.

"I'm making up for the past," he whispered huskily into his ear. "You can't spoil it for me. Elanora and Ashden must never know."

The bear snorted blood. "I too am making up for the past," he said, but his words wouldn't pass through his damaged throat.

"I never should have sent Ashden to you, I'm only glad he wasn't the one you needed."

"I regret my part in that arrangement. You have nothing to fear from me," the bear wished he could say.

"Once you're gone they'll never know what I did. I have to look after Elanora now. I will destroy your army. You will never threaten me again."

"I am not their leader. Let me help you. I owe Elanora the souls of my cubs," again, soundless.

"What are you doing there, Will? Get this bear off me!" Ash shouted.

Will glanced his way then lowered his face even closer to the bear. "What sort of beast are you not to allow a man back into the Timefold to save his sister? Instead you made me a traitor and set your beasts on me. So if I think about it, you are responsible for her death. You aren't worthy of the soul you were granted."

"Forgive me, brother," the bear wheezed inaudibly. "But do not forget how willing you were to sacrifice your own kind to bring back your sister who had already been called to the Great Destination. We saved you from doing this terrible thing to her." The bear had given up trying to talk and let the thoughts run through his head.

Will pointed the blade over the gash on the bear's neck ready to deliver the killing thrust. "My sister was the only one who loved me," he hissed and sunk the knife into his wound.

"Will, what have you done?" Elanora screamed over his shoulder.

### Chapter 33

Will withdrew the knife and swung around, black hair plastered over his crazed expression. Elanora covered Jacub with her body, crooning into his ear and stroking his matted fur.

The bear breathed in one last time the scent of his cubs and of the young woman, their Soulmaker. "Thank you, child" he exhaled in a whisper that floated away with his spirit.

"You killed him! Why?" she screamed up at Will.

"He... he was one of them, Elanora."

"Didn't you see him in chains and the panther trying to kill him? You couldn't've thought he was one of them!"

"I'm sorry," he said, beseeching her with his eyes. "Last I knew, he was their leader. Anyway, the panther had practically killed him and he was in terrible pain. At least he's not suffering."

Elanora looked from Will's blood stained hands to her fallen friend. His face had relaxed in death and her anger subsided.

"Will you get this fellow off me!" yelled Ashden again.

Will ran to his side and helped lever the bear's bulk off his legs.

"About time," he said. "What took you?"

Will was saved from answering as a final wave of attackers rolled closer.

From behind them suddenly came a fearsome growl, half cat half dog and completely menacing. They froze. Elanora's belt was yanked back and she was dragged screaming into the shadows. The animals took it as a signal to charge Ash and Will, aiming for their throats.

Elanora scrambled back to the wall on her elbows, unable to make out her attacker. "Buttercup?" she said, squinting into the shadows.

"How good it is to hear that name," Buttercup wagged her panther tail, "I've grown so used to Tearclaw," she said.

Elanora wiped the hair from her face, "Buttercup." She flung her arms around the animal. "You're alive."

Buttercup licked her face. "You're troupe are outnumbered and Panther will fight to the death," she said. "You will not win against them. I can lead you out of here to safety."

Elanora rubbed Buttercup's chest and stared into her eyes. "I can't leave. These are my friends, all of the animals and the soulings. We must reopen the Great Destination."

Buttercup nodded and stepped back from her Maker. "I owe you my soul," she said with her head bowed.

"You don't owe me anything."

"I know how you were tricked by my father," Buttercup's nose drooped to the ground.

"No, no. I loved you because I wanted to. That was an awful time for me, it's true, but..."

The offspring lifted her face and wagged her tail.

"Then, I give you my life...because I want to," she bowed again and pelted towards the fighting before another word could be spoken.

Buttercup set her sights on Zsa Zsa who was latched onto Will's hand. She wrenched him off, shaking him to the ground. When the Pomeranian saw Tearclaw he bared his pin prick teeth. Buttercup straddled him and set his fur aquiver with a roaring bark that sent him bolting into the dark.

Elanora noticed the small victory but the sheer number of beasts was overwhelming. All their actions were simply forestalling the inevitable. The Great Destination would be lost.

She scanned for Ashden, her heart racing. She saw him in the thick of it, every ounce of his being fighting for the soulings. He was brave, he was so brave. But he was being knocked to the ground as she watched by a chimp wielding a sharp wedge of timber. Just as the weapon was almost thrust into his skull, Ash deflected it with a piece of pipe that he had managed to slide out from the barricade. A slim beam of light shot into the room, searing the next beast who confronted him. It bought him time to steady himself on his feet before another attack.

"We cannot win this on our own," she said to Pin Pot who was still a lump in her pocket.

The lump nodded.

"If only I could fit through the barricade I know I'd find someone there to help us," she sighed, wringing a clutch of her hair.

Pin Pot timidly poked his head out of the pocket. His tusks quivered. Pendulous over the flames swung his old friend, Petsy. Pin Pot unfurled his trunk and tapped insistently on Elanora's neck, his ears sagging but his eyes full and round.

"You Pin Pot? You'd go?" she asked the little elephant who nodded. "How could I doubt that you would do such a heroic thing? But...you know you won't be able to come back?"

Silent for the longest time, the little blue elephant squared his shoulders as best he could.

"Now, I don't know if anyone there will help us but I do know that anytime I've cried out for help in my life, there has always been an answer. And I'm sure it comes from there," she pointed beyond the barricade. "Besides, we don't have any hope on our own."

Pin Pot stared into the once radiant chamber, and saw darkness and bloodshed.

"I'll make a good hero," he declared, setting his ears high.

Elanora beamed at him and ruffled his ear with her finger. "That's right, and you deserve to blow your own trumpet. You're the bravest souling I know."

Elanora kissed the top of his head then carried him over to the barricade, dodging teeth and claws. A chink of light shone out and she lowered him to the space. "Good bye," she said as he squeezed through the gap into the brightness.

### Chapter 34

Panther observed the battle from a ledge high on the barricade. They were not victorious yet, but close. His eyes narrowed onto Tearclaw.

"Traitor!" he hissed. What a bitter disappointment his offspring had been. Thoroughly unworthy of soul life and not a trace of noble wolf about her. He would take pleasure in denying her entry to the Great Destination. The creation of his hybrid children had held so much promise, yet in the end were a failure. But their method of creation was a secret he would die with rather than chance any of his power hungry followers making use of.

He spotted the girl on the battlefield and clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth. Almost his undoing! Panther imagined the taste of her blood mingling with Jacub's on his tongue. Her death would be as sweet as a souling sacrifice.

"To victory!" he roared.

Bolstered by their leader's confidence, the army sought their final victims. The Siamese cat approached Ash stealthily from behind. As she jiggled her rump ready to pounce, Elanora ran forward with a kick.

"Thanks," said Ash, whirling around.

But the cat leapt at Elanora's face.

Ash batted it away from her with the pipe. He then bent down and hoisted Will to his feet, who had been knocked down by a Shetland's kick.

Elanora smiled at Ash and he responded, but their smiles vanished when they saw the line of dark animals advancing. They checked up at the barricade where more gathered in formation, with Panther at the apex, roaring in victory.

All of a sudden a dust cloud billowed from the barricade, filling the chamber with a ghostly moan. Another gust blew and some of the wedges fell away allowing larger rays to streak in. More chinks toppled out and the animals dropped to all fours for balance on the trembling framework.

A deep humming swelled until it engulfed every battle cry, drying every throat. Then there was silence. The barricade bulged as if elasticised. More light rays burst forth illuminating the cavern and destabilising the wall. Elanora, Will and Ash watched from the base of the structure as if frozen. Ashden ducked under a low flying post then grabbed the others by the arm and pulled them to safety, struggling with each step on his bruised legs.

The panther inched up the barrier, his claws slipping and tail thrashing from side to side. His lungs clogged with smoke from his smoldering fur. The smell transported him to the past. To the kitten, singed and scared in the burning branches of an African tree, before strong human hands caught him as he fell. He remembered him! He remembered him, of course he did. The poacher's son who nursed him back to health and refused to give him up. The son whose side he never left. The son, his Soulmaker, who bred with the banker's daughter and produced the soft pink spawn that confined him to the cage, rejected. The pink young thing together with its cuddly toy that he tore apart to regain his position as only beloved son of his Maker.

Panther set his jaw. His back legs slid from under him and circled helplessly in the air. He could feel the scar from his Soulmaker's misaimed bullet rub against the timber as his chest slid lower and his front paws threatened to fail him.

The hum intensified, the framework bulged to breaking point and rocks jettisoned around him. They smashed into the sides of the cavern sending animals ducking for cover. Beasts were collected by shooting boulders and crushed. Huge logs blew out, fracturing walls. Brilliant light rent the smoking chamber sending rocks and timber flying. Then, like the sudden end to a tropical storm, there was calm. The barricade balanced with the most minimal support, creaking and groaning. Panther heaved himself back onto the ledge.

Now the source of the rays shone unencumbered by wooden planks and metal off cuts. A green and blue swirling surface like a satellite image of the earth stretched from floor to ceiling. Pink, orange and yellow light beams radiated from it in continual flashes. The surface stayed in tension until three figures could be seen pressing from inside, wearing the colours like a stretched out skin of latex. The rays darting from their forms touched the last of the structure but instead of scattering violently, it dissolved in a puff of phosphorescence. Beasts hovered midair, one by one falling to the ground. Motionless.

Panther glared at the approaching figures. The taste of a hundred deaths rose up his throat. Then the look in his Soulmaker's eyes returned to him. Eyes of disbelief watching as his blood streaked paw, weak from the bullet, delivered its death blow to his clean shaven neck. His Soulmaker had fallen and died the death of the weak. With a broken heart.

How he hated the life he had been granted. From those days of darkness a driving hate had fuelled him and protected him from repentance. He would stand by his crimes even now and as the figures turned to him, open hands visible and beseeching, the panther sprang from his foothold to his fate below. Light and dark energy streaming from his body. As he plummeted, he finally had wiped from his mind the one word, his name, which had haunted him since his first evil desire germinated like a seed in his heart.

"Sindisa". Saved.

Pink and citrus rays fanned out over every fallen souling toy and animal. Elanora, Ash and Will stood frozen as the figures continued towards them. Light flowed and danced over their bodies and from their outstretched hands.

Will's face was a horror. His eyes snapped wide and between his parted lips his mouth was cavernous and dry. His breath escaping in hot jets. A muscle under his eyelid twitched. The blood left his hands and feet. The figure stopped in front of him, a fanning screen from it, surrounding them both. Will collapsed to his knees.

Sylvie's eyes met his like a flare in the night, her brow and cheek bone swelling as he watched. She held out her fragile hand. "Please take me," she whispered stepping towards him gingerly from her bedroom. The dawn light made her silhouette hazy and soft but her eyes sparkled from welling tears. She had wet the bed again. Papa appeared behind her, half shielded by her door. When his eyes connected with William's, not even the dim light could hide the red sheen on his face. William bolted at once, down the staircase, straight for the front door. "Will, wait, wait, take me with you. Take me with you!" she whispered at the top of her lungs. "When I get back we will go away. I'll get you out and you'll be safe," he thought to himself as he turned the knob. "Get back here," Papa threatened, you get right back here!" "Leave him alone," Sylvie cried before the impact of her body thrown down the stairs, silenced her. William slammed the door and ran.

Will's stomach retched. "I'm so sorry," he murmured, "I'm so sorry. I knew and I didn't take you with me."

The figure bent down to take his hand and raise him to his feet. Pastel rays zigzagged between them until Will's face glowed and the shielding light dissolved.

"Sylvie," he touched her cheek and his fingers vibrated. His sister smiled and clasped his hand. The energy from the veil sunk into him and he felt lighter. Cleaner.

"Are you okay, Will?" asked Elanora. "What's happening?"

"It's fine, I'm fine. That's my sister. That's Sylvie."

Elanora looked across at Ash who was blinking into the face of the figure before him, unable to discern the features. He pressed his eyes and she noticed how light his breathing had become.

"Dad?" he mouthed. His father smiled, putting a light soaked arm on his son's shoulder. "But I don't understand."

"Ashden, I haven't had a chance to tell you," said Elanora, wringing her hands together and speaking fast. "Pin Pot and Petsy told me about your father. He was just like you. He was killed in the Timefold by a beast when he was trying to save soulings. He didn't abandon you at all."

"Dad?"

His father nodded. He raised his arm and a light beam burst forth, snapping the rope around Eskatoria's neck where she and the other soulings lay on the ground. As the beam retracted, Eskatoria came with it until she landed, limbs akimbo, in his father's hand. The little monkey adjusted her arms and legs, sat up carefully and looked over at Ash with round blinking eyes. She lifted her arms. Ash's father handed her to him.

"Thank you," said Ash, awestruck.

The third figure took position in front of Elanora. Try as she might, Elanora couldn't place the woman. The dance of colours hid many clues, but Elanora was thankful to whoever she was for the help and whispered her gratitude. The figure cradled Elanora's face in her hand then passed it over her hair. The sensation of the veil against her skin made her tingle.

"Who is she?" Ash asked, sparing a moment to take his eyes off his father.

Elanora shrugged, "I don't..." The female figure smiled and placed her hands over her heart. Elanora felt the smallest yearning being coaxed from her chest. Settling in her mind like a grain of sand in an oyster. "I don't think I know," she said.

Sylvie Johnson and Laurence Jaybanks then turned to Elanora. They stood on either side of the unknown female and took a hand each, searching Elanora's eyes with their rainbow flecked lenses.

"Thank you, and thank...thank, whoever I should thank in there," Elanora fumbled for the words as they released their hold, her face red.

Ashden's father moved back to his son and reached his hand out waiting for Ash to do the same. He then turned his hand over so that his fingers hung over Ashden's palm. At the tip of his index finger formed a perfect drop of colour from the swirling surface of his body, the film between this life and the next. The droplet swelled until its weight pulled it down to drop on Ash's palm.

He thought instantly of his mother as the refracting rainbow slid like mercury over his skin. In seconds it hardened to putty, rolling instead of sliding.

Ashden looked up but already the figures were receding.

"Wait Sylvie!" Will shouted.

The figures paused and Sylvie pressed back.

"Sylvie, I'm sorry I wanted to bring you back, I tried, I, I...but I shouldn't have, should I?" He touched the pliant mask of her face and tingled again, closing his eyes to savour the sensation. "You are where you belong," he said.

Sylvie nodded and returned his touch before withdrawing.

"I miss you Dad," Ash whispered.

"Good bye," said Elanora, waving and frowning.

The surface flowed evenly again, emanating its life giving light.

None of them said a word.

As if woken from a trance, Elanora caught sight of something in the corner of her eye and stumbled through the field of debris.

"Petsy! I'm so glad you're all right," she said, cradling him in her arms. "There's someone waiting to see you." His forehead crinkled. "He's a bit of a hero now and I'm afraid you're going to have to hear all about it for a long time to come!" she grinned.

Petsy managed a smile but his stitching and joints were close to breaking. "Not Pin Pot?" he croaked.

"That's who!" she said and carried him over to the opaline veil. "He's waiting for you inside."

"Inside? But I can't go, there's so much work to be done here."

"You have been nothing short of a hero yourself all these years. You go now and rest, enjoy, have some fun for goodness sake!"

Petsy regarded her and then the veil. On cue a tiny trunk pressed against the liquid light. Petsy chuckled.

"Go on, it's time."

Petsy took a deep breath and limped into the Great Destination. As he entered Elanora saw his fur brightened and his joints move freely.

"I'll miss you," Elanora called.

The soulings were carried into the light by injured animals. Scrufkin limped to the veil, posting a pink rabbit through it. His closeness to it warmed his blood and put a bounce in his step.

The souls of their fallen animal friends separated gracefully from their bodies and drifted to the light. Soon, hundreds of transparent forms appeared in the cavern from the tunnel mouths as if summonsed by a turning tide. They floated serenely through to the other side.

"They're beautiful," Elanora said as she and Ash stood transfixed by the ethereal procession.

Ash returned her smile and tucked the putty into his pocket. "Come on. Let's help the rest."

Elanora and Ash scoured the ground for soulings. Will was beside the veil when Ash noticed him.

"Will, stop!" he shouted.

Will pulled back his arm from swinging a souling but part of it had already touched the surface.

"That's Edward Arthur."

"Oh, is it?"

"Nory's waiting for him," Ash said.

"But wouldn't he rather...go in?"

Ash looked at the bear whose leg had started to glow from its brush with the veil.

"There's time enough for that. I think he'd be happiest right now returning to Nory. She would miss him like crazy."

"Oh, right," said Will and he tossed Edward Arthur gently against wall. Eskatoria frowned at Will and jumped from Ash's shoulder to sit with her friend, watching intently the changes working their way up his plush body.

The whole cavern was dazzlingly bright. The walls were transforming back to their familiar doughyness and the ceiling glowed a healthy pink again.

"What do we do about this one?" Ash asked as they gathered around the fallen panther.

"He's alive," Elanora said.

"I can't sense a soul in him, can either of you?" Will asked.

Ash opened the panther's eyelid to search for life. Elanora touched him but no flicker of a spirit warmed her fingers.

"Nothing."

"So he's just an ordinary animal now?" Ash asked.

"I suppose so," said Will. "The others seem to be too but we'll have to check. Those rays must have burnt out whatever soul was inside them."

Buttercup padded up beside them, standing tall over the near lifeless leader. "I will take him to the Outer World," she said. "He shouldn't be here."

Will gave Elanora a don't-trust-a-beast stare.

"No, he doesn't belong. I trust you to take care of it," she said aloud, tickling Buttercup on the yellow patch under her chin. "Let's get all these beasts back to where they belong."

### Chapter 35

"So that's the Great Destination," Ash marveled, facing the ultimate gateway, now calm and cleared of debris. "I can't believe I had no idea it was here."

"It's so beautiful. Like somebody's stirring an opal with their finger," said Elanora.

"And no more beasts," Will added.

Ash gazed at the ceiling. "You said something before about layers, Will. How many layers do you think there are in the Timefold?"

"Are you planning to stay and find out?"

Elanora caught Ashden staring at her left hand. Turning red, she passed it through her hair. While there was no ring on her finger she wanted to bury even the suggestion of it.

"I don't know about that just yet," he replied.

"So you're staying, Elanora?" asked Will.

A vivid flash of his bloodstained hand assaulted her and she stepped back. She saw his face pale, inhaled and remembered the benefit of the doubt she had agreed to apply.

"This is my home, Will. Of course I'm staying."

"Well I've got no reason to go back. No money, nowhere to stay. I certainly don't want to go back and die of old age."

"Of course," she said.

Ash glanced at her but their eyes brushed apart.

There was silence.

"You'll keep coming back won't you Ashden? After you've helped your mother?" Elanora asked.

"Someone's got to keep bringing the soulings, I suppose."

Eskatoria scampered over and scaled her way onto Ashden's shoulder, pointing urgently towards the cavern wall with both arms and a tail.

"Look at that!" Ash said, rushing over to where Edward Arthur sat clapping his paws in delight at his newfound mobility. Eski jumped up and down, humming.

"Elanora, isn't there a way you could come back? To see your parents again?" Ashden asked quietly, picking up the bear.

"They don't feel like my parents, Ash. If I went through that gateway I wouldn't end up in the same time as you anyway. We lost that chance."

"Because you went through another gateway?"

"No, because of the rule."

"What rule?"

"About if you enter together you must leave together. Touching."

"I didn't know that either. Turns out there's a lot of stuff I didn't know," he frowned, shooting hard eyes at Will. "So I couldn't have saved you anyway?"

Elanora shook her head. "No, I don't suppose you could have, and yet. You did," she said softly. "You really should go back, Ashden. Not just for your mother. You've got your whole life to live."

"I'm not a child," he retorted.

No-one spoke.

"Yeah well, I've got to give Edward back to Nory. She's still waiting," he mumbled.

Happy for the change of subject Elanora swooped on Edward. "I'm so pleased we met up again Edward Arthur Jameson. It's been a long time, hasn't it? You will give Nory a hug from me, won't you, now that you can. And tell her I said hello. I loved her like my own daughter," she added in a whisper.

Ashden looked away. The sudden image in his head of a wizened Elanora hugging old Nory was not welcome.

"Come on, no one has to go anywhere yet. We've got bagfuls of broken soulings back at our base to send through and then I think a celebration is in order," Elanora said and turned to head back through the tunnels.

"Great idea," said Will, pressing his hand against the wall and feeling it give under the pressure. He smiled.

After the first turn in the tunnel she stopped and handed Edward Arthur to Will. She bent down for a whispered word with Scrufkin while she fussed with her bootlace. "Go on," she said to all of them. "it's just my lace. Will, can you get Scrufkin back there as fast as you can? He's desperate for water. It should be clearing up by now."

Scrufkin limped on cue. Reluctantly, Will picked him up and pressed on through the tunnels.

Ash had hung back for one more look at the Great Destination. The colours cleared his eyes and helped him focus. He had a lively Edward Arthur to hand back to Nory, perhaps a letter to find from Elanora, soulings to seek and such life changing news for his mother that the prospect of returning home almost overruled his desire to stay. He closed his eyes and this time an image of Elanora formed sharp and clear; radiant, beautiful, unattainable.

Ashden pulled the putty from his pocket and flipped it over in his palm. It had hardened even more and had to it a mother-of-pearl sheen. Eskatoria swung down onto his other hand.

"We've got important things to do, the two of us," he said, pocketing the stone and dragging his fringe across his face. Eski smiled up at him, her big eyes blinking black. Happily, she swung herself to the floor and scampered after Edward Arthur.

Elanora rose from her lace tying as the monkey dashed past.

Ashden stood before her framed by the opaline colours of the Great Destination.

Neither spoke a word.

But they looked into each other's eyes at last.

###  Epilogue

Oscar Rindman stood at the base of the fig with not just his heart beating but his entire internal system pumping like an infected boil. He gripped the hammer more tightly and rubbed his thumb up and down the wooden handle, gliding on a film of sweat. In his other hand he held a long copper nail; five others poked his skin through his short's pocket. The Internet had at least come in handy for providing a means of quiet execution for the tree.

His eyes scanned it thoroughly, monitoring the slightest movement of branch or twitch of leaf. Everything was still. Not even a hint of wind to unsettle the canopy. Nimble as a cat he jumped onto one of the roots and pounded the nail deep into the trunk before springing back and scanning the fig once more. Wiping the back of his hand across his forehead, he shook his head at the craziness of his nerves. He dug into his pocket for the next copper spike and noticed a light breeze cool his skin. It was nice not to feel so clammy. He rested the head of the nail between his lips as he worked out the best spot for it to go.

Just as he was about to make another, less frantic leap onto the roots, he stopped. His eyes caught the copper glinting in the trunk. The head of the nail was twisting slowly but surely out. Oscar was transfixed by the turn, turning and although his pulse beat painfully loud in his ears, he couldn't back away.

The nail popped out and cart wheeled to the ground. He stared at the black circle left in the bark and drew closer. Mesmerised. He heard his own breathing thick against the trunk as he pressed his eye to the hole. The hammer slid from his fist and the nail in his mouth slipped to the dirt. He clutched both hands on the wooden folds and tried desperately to wrench himself away from the tree but the depths of the hole had him caught and a steady black flow of dust issued from it, streaming directly into his pupil.

Released from the fig he stumbled back, clawing frantically at his eye. An encrustation like salt crystals seared his lid. Both eyes hardened as the black dust invaded his optic nerve and swept into his brain where it eddied and lodged, forming a burnished crust around itself.

He slumped onto the dirt semi-conscious. As he came to, moments later, it was to a thunderous roar in his head. Pulsating endlessly.

"At last! At last!"

####

### Layer 2

### Coming Soon

The Lodger has moved in, settling deep into Oscar's system. Taking control. Through him it seeks revenge and attacking Ashden is key.

Ashden hands his mother the gift from his father, little realising the consequences. Memories from her ancient past resurface connecting her with horrors that will stalk them in the second layer of the Timefold.

Elanora was folded out of time. She lost her parents, so she thought. But there are others who know the truth...part of it, at least. In uncovering Elanora's ancestry and the bloodline connecting them, the Soulmakers meet an entirely new breed of children and their legendary link.

As for Will, there is something unnerving about his attentions to Elanora; secrets he still needs to hide.

And for those who lose their way in the second layer of the Timefold, a Leviathan, nesting in her own filth, awaits.

From Scrubstone to Ancient Crete. Through the layers, into the labyrinth. Elanora and Ashden face danger from every unexpected turn as they challenge an ancient abuse of soul life.

And as they challenge what they mean to each other.

Author's Note

If you enjoyed Soulmaker, please connect with me online at www.nadinecooke.com.au

