Before the Sky Fell

[ 7 ] Into the Void

-7-

Into the Void

Well into the journey through the forest, the wind howled through the treetops. Charlotte grimaced at the masses of heavy clouds above the canopy. Whik fit snugly between the horse's mane and Charlotte's slender body. He looks like Peter from here, she told herself, but Peter is dead.

Charlotte rode behind Marg and Henderson, holding the reins of her horse with one hand and a bucket of tempera in the other. She had made the concoction at the beach that morning. It took hours to grind the red powder pigment. She then mixed it with a dozen egg yolks to create red symbols that would allow the group to find their way back. Every so often she would dip her brush in the painting medium, try not to spill it on Whik, and mark their route on the trunks of each tree.

Charlotte's red locks fell against her chest. She knew they were constantly agitating the boy's nose by Whik's obvious jolts.

"Your hair is itching me."

Charlotte pulled her hair to the side. "Well your cape is scratching me."

"Well I need my cape!"

"And I need my hair. Do forgive me, my young lord," Charlotte said sarcastically. "Is it truly my hair, or the fact that you weren't granted your own horse?"

He must have lost attention in the conversation for a moment because his head turned to the trees. The branches rustled as a squirrel jumped from them.

"Whik, is it?" The boy nodded. "And how old are you, Whik?"

"My mother said I was nine, but I think she was wrong. I was a lot stronger than my friends who were older. And smarter, too."

Whik would have been the same age as Annabel's oldest. Her neighbor's last words echoed in her mind. Peter. Maya. Safe? Safe? None of them were safe.

Whik wiggled his body on the saddle and scratched his shoulder blade. "Do you have any children?"

Had she spoken aloud? "No," she finally admitted. "I do not."

"Why? You seem nice enough."

Charlotte grit her teeth. "It just wasn't meant to be."

"If there are no gods, then what happens when we die? Do we sleep?"

This one has questions. The leaves fell in a gentle shower around the caravan. Charlotte looked to the gaps in the trees. The split was somewhere up there, a black scar across the sky. "If you want to believe in the gods, then you believe in the gods. No one is to tell you otherwise."

"But the Elders forbid it," Whik told her. "They would say that my mother is just gone. Thomas said when we die it's like a long game of hide and find. He said it just takes a long time to find each other, but I don't think I believe him."

The Elders. They were just fancy words to describe old men who had nothing better to do than invoke ancient traditions, light candles, and talk about fate. Yet none of them had made it to the island, so the only fates they should have thought about were their own."Thomas sounds like a wise friend."

"He was my brother. And I get lonely without him. Do you ever get lonely?"

Every day. She tightened her grip on the horse's reins and guided the mare around a tree. "Everyone gets lonely, Whik."

"Why?"

Charlotte moved her hands under Whik's and felt his cold skin. "It's just how this whole thing works. Loneliness is part of it. This is a big world, Whik, and we only get to see a little part of it. Knowing that will make anyone lonely."