The Peregrines

Chapter 40 - FINISHED

{Pic is mine, was on my Instagram (Mphfpc_fandom) until I deleted it off and my Instagram changed to Multi_Fandoms_au}

{ Edited - 1st May, 2024 }

"There's a map," Emma told me, turning her head slowly to look at the smoking house. "If it hasn't burned, that is."

I offered to assist her in locating it. We covered our faces with damp cloths and bravely entered the house through the collapsed wall. Despite the shattered windows and smoky air, we managed to navigate our way to the study with the help of Olive's hand flame. Although all the shelves had toppled over like dominoes, we pushed them out of the way and sifted through the books scattered on the floor, bending down low.

Luckily, we easily located the book - it stood out as the largest one in the library. Emma couldn't contain her excitement as she held it up. On our way out, we managed to find alcohol, Laudanum, and proper bandages for Millard. After tending to his wound, we settled down to explore the book. It resembled more of an atlas than a map, with its quilted leather cover dyed a rich burgundy colour. Each page was meticulously drawn on what appeared to be parchment. It was a truly exquisite and ancient piece, large enough to cover Emma's lap.

"It's called the Map of Days," she said. "It's got every loop ever known to exist." The page she had opened seemed to be a map of Turkey, but it didn't have any roads or borders. Instead, it was filled with small spirals that I assumed represented loops. Each spiral had a distinct symbol at its center, which matched a legend at the bottom of the page. The legend showed the symbols again, along with a list of numbers separated by dashes.

I pointed to one that read 29-3-316 / ?-?-399 and said, "What is this, some kind of code?"

Emma traced it with her finger. "This loop was the twenty-ninth of March, 316 A.D. It existed until sometime in the year 399, though the day and month are unknown."

"What happened in 399?"

She shrugged. "It doesn't say."

I reached across her and turned to a map of Greece, even more, clustered with spirals and numbers. "But what's the point of listing all these?" I said. "How would you even get to these ancient loops?"

"By leapfrogging," said Millard. "It's a highly complex and dangerous undertaking, but by leapfrogging from one loop to another—a day fifty years in the past, for instance—then you'll find you have access to a whole range of loops that have ceased to exist in the last fifty years. Should you have the wherewithal to travel to them, within those you'll find still other loops, and so on exponentially."

"That's time travel," I said, astonished. "Real-time travel."

"I suppose so, yes."

"So this place," I said, pointing to Horace's ash painting on the wall. "We wouldn't just have to figure out where it is, but when, too?"

"I'm afraid so. And if Miss Avocet is indeed being held by wights, who are notoriously adept at leapfrogging, then it's extremely likely that the place she and the other ymbrynes are being taken is somewhere in the past. That will make them all the more difficult to find, and getting there all the more dangerous. The locations of historical loops are well known to our enemies, who tend to lurk near the entrances."

"Well then," Jake said, "It's a good thing I'm coming with you."

Emma spun to look at Jake in surprise. "Oh, that's wonderful!" she cried and hugged him. "Are you certain?"

He informed her that he was exhausted. Despite our fatigue, the kids cheered and clapped. A few even hugged Jake. Enoch even shook his hand, a gesture that caught me off guard. However, when I glanced back at Emma, her smile had disappeared. I gently nudged Jake's arm and gestured towards Emma.

"What's the matter?" Jake said.

Emma shifted uncomfortably. "There's something you should know," she said, "And I'm afraid it'll make you not want to come with us."

"It won't," He assured her.

"When we leave here, this loop will close behind us. It's possible you may never be able to return to the time you came from. At least, not easily."

"There's nothing for me there," Jake said quickly. "Even if I could go back, I'm not sure I'd want to."

"You say that now. I need you to be sure." He nodded, then stood up. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"For a walk."

While Jake strolled along, I found myself gazing at the now clear sky, adorned with billions of stars. Those stars, like time travellers, made me wonder. How many of those ancient specks of light were remnants of long-gone suns? And how many were born, yet their light hadn't reached us? If all the other suns vanished tonight, how long would it take for us to realize our solitude? The sky had always held mysteries, but it was only now that I truly grasped how mysterious the earth could be.

I saw the kids huddling together in small groups, full of excitement as they discussed and schemed about the future, a first for all of them. I made my way back to Emma, who was deeply engrossed in her huge book. Miss Peregrine sat beside her, pecking at the map every now and then.

"I'm sure," Jake said over my shoulder.

She smiled at him. "I'm glad."

"There's just one thing I have to do before I go."

* * *

Jake exited the loop, with Emma, Olive, and Millard trailing behind. Half an hour later, they made it back just in time for Bronwyn's brother's funeral. We laid Victor to rest, but Bronwyn decided to move his entire bed outside with him still in it. With all the kids gathered on the lawn, she lovingly tucked him in, giving him one final kiss on the forehead.

The boys carried his bed corners like pallbearers and escorted him down into the bomb-made crater. After we all climbed out, Enoch stayed behind, placing a clay man delicately on the boy's chest.

"This is my very best man," he said. "To keep you company." Enoch gently pressed down the clay man as it tried to sit up. The man then turned on his side, placing one arm beneath his head, and appeared to drift off to sleep.

After filling the crater, Fiona covered the raw soil with shrubs and vines to start growing them. Meanwhile, as the rest of us packed for the journey, Adam returned to his usual spot, this time marking Victor's grave.

After bidding farewell to their home, the children collected mementos like fragments of brick and flowers from the garden, treating them as precious forget-me-nots. We embarked on a final journey across the island, traversing the smoky, burnt woods and the marshy bog marked by bomb craters.

Descending through the quaint town enveloped in peat smoke, we encountered weary townsfolk lingering on porches and in doorways. They appeared so exhausted and stunned that they scarcely acknowledged the peculiar-looking children parading past them.

We were calm yet filled with anticipation. Despite the children not having slept, you wouldn't have guessed it by looking at them. It was September 4th, and after a long period of stillness, the days were finally in motion once more. Some of them believed they could sense the change; their breath felt deeper, and their blood rushed through their veins quickly. They felt more alive, more present. And I felt the same way too.

"Happy September 4th, guys!" I said as we strolled side by side, trying to lift the kids' spirits after the recent sad and scary events that had taken place in the last few hours.

I often reminisce about the days when my memories were fragmented, dreaming of a flawless life and thinking we were all just ordinary people with unique quirks. However, everything changed when I ventured outside my comfort zone and faced the harsh reality. The truths I uncovered shattered my trust in those who cared for me, leading me to yearn for a glimpse into the lives of everyday people, hoping to learn their ways and blend in seamlessly one day.

It's amazing how I failed to see the simplicity of things, and how ordinary the real world truly is. I never thought I would miss home at this moment. As we prepared to set sail at dawn, marking a new chapter in my life, I couldn't help but think of all the memories I was leaving behind. It wasn't just a weight I was shedding, but a tangible burden I would carry with me.

My old life seemed as distant as my now-bombed home. Our cages were shattered, leaving eleven peculiar children and a peculiar bird to squeeze into three rowboats, leaving behind much of what we held dear. Emma proposed that someone give a speech to mark the beginning of our journey, but none of us were prepared with words.

Instead, Enoch raised Miss Peregrine's cage and she let out a piercing screech. In response, we let out a cry of our own, a mix of triumph and sorrow, acknowledging both what we had lost and what we hoped to find.

Hugh and I were the first to row the boat. Enoch patiently waited at the bow for his turn, while Emma, wearing a sunhat, admired the disappearing island. The sea stretched out like rippled glass in front of us. Despite the warm day, a refreshing breeze blew from the water, making me want to row for hours.

It was hard to believe such tranquillity existed in a world at war. In the other boat, I noticed Bronwyn waving and capturing a moment with Miss Peregrine's camera. I couldn't help but smile back.

We didn't bring any of the old photo albums along with us; perhaps this could be the very first photo in a completely new one. It felt odd to imagine that someday I might have my own collection of aged photos to proudly present to skeptical grandchildren or to those under my care if I decide to become a ymbryne—and my own incredible tales to share.

After capturing the moment, Bronwyn gently lowered the camera and gestured with her arm, directing our attention towards something in the distance. Against the backdrop of the rising sun, a fleet of battleships silently sailed, creating a striking contrast with their dark silhouette.

We rowed faster.