‘I’m not ready for extreme.’
‘I know. We can do slow and gentle too.’ He flipped the board down on to the snow. ‘Been surfing?’
I laughed. ‘You don’t know much about London, do you? We’re not exactly beach babes in Richmond.’
He grinned. ‘So what did you do al day?’
‘We have a deer park. You can go riding. There’s the Thames if you like rowing.’
‘Spil it.’
‘I … er … shopped. I’ve got an Olympic gold in that. And I had my music, of course.’
‘Time to broaden your horizons. Take a run then slide.’
‘What?’
‘Trust me, just do it.’
Feeling more than a bit foolish, I did as he asked.
‘OK, so you lead with your right foot.’
‘You can tel that how?’
‘It’s the foot you chose to slide with. Now, I’l get you in the right stance.’ He adjusted the board and showed me where to put my feet. He put his arm around my waist and rocked me to and fro. ‘It’s about balance.’
‘This is just an excuse for you to get your hands on me.’
‘I know. Great, isn’t it?’
To my surprise, I proved much better at boarding than skiing. I fel over lots, of course, but more like the average learner than the complete idiot I was on skis.
‘Let me see you do your thing, Hot Stuff,’ I teased Zed after I felt I’d sat enough times on my butt to cal it a day.
‘OK, Short Stuff. Make yourself comfortable over there and don’t move. I’m gonna show you how it’s done. I’ve just got to go up the hil some.’
I sat in the shelter of a little cliff, watching the slope for any sign of Zed but he seemed to be taking a very long while to get to the beginning of his run.
‘Woo-ee!’
A board shot overhead and Zed landed six metres in front of me, weaving his way down the hil .
‘Show off!’ I had to laugh. I should’ve guessed he’d do that.
He took a while to trudge back up to me, board on his shoulder, but he was grinning every step of the way.
‘What d’ya think?’ he cal ed.
‘Hmm.’ I examined my nails. ‘Passable.’
‘Passable! That was perfect.’
‘You see, this other guy came by and did a somersault. I gave him a ten.’
He dumped the board and tackled me down on to the snow. ‘I want a ten too.’
‘Uh-uh. Not without a triple axel.’
‘That’s skating, you dork.’
‘My guy, he did one of those on the way back. Got maximum points.’
Zed growled into my neck. ‘I’m your guy. Admit it: there was no one else here.’
I giggled. ‘Stil can’t give you a ten for that jump.’
‘How about I try and bribe you?’ He kissed his way up my neck to my lips, taking time to hit al the right spots. ‘So? How did I do?’
Hoping his future sense was on hold for the moment, I quietly took a handful of snow. ‘Hmm, let me think. It seems to me … you stil need practice!’
Before he could react, I stuffed the snow down his neck, producing a squawk I’d not heard from him before.
‘Right, this is war.’ He rol ed me over but I scrambled free, gasping with laughter. I ran but he caught me in a few steps and lifted me off my feet.
‘It’s into the snowdrift for you.’ Finding a deep patch, he dumped me down so I was half buried.
‘Al the more ammunition!’ I made a quick snowbal and chucked it at him.
It veered in the air and came back to hit my face.
‘You cheater!’
Zed bent over with laughter at my outrage.
‘That does it! Two can play at that game.’
Remembering my egg lasso, I imagined pul ing the branch over his head down then let go. It sprang up, showering him with snow. Pleased with the effect, I brushed my hands nonchalantly together. ‘Take that!’
Zed shook the ice off his hat. ‘We should never have told you about being a savant. You’re dangerous.’
I leapt up, clapping my hands. ‘I’m dangerous—
dangerous! Woo-hoo, I’m dangerous!’
‘But not yet skil ed!’ The snow shifted from under me and I was on my back in the snowdrift with Zed kneeling over me, a threatening snowbal in hand.
‘So what was that about my snowboarding?’
I smiled. ‘Definitely a ten. No, an eleven.’
He chucked the bal aside. ‘Good. I’m glad you’ve seen reason.’
I spent some time on my own later in the day, walking in the woods at the back of the house, sorting through the memories Uriel had unlocked.
After my parents’ murderous argument—I couldn’t bear to dwel on that—my early childhood had been a chaotic nightmare of constant moves, haphazard care, and no love. It hadn’t become completely terrible until my aunt had hooked up with the drug dealing boyfriend.
What had happened to the rest of my family? I wondered. Had my mother and father no parents or grandparents, or other brothers or sisters for me to go to? It was a puzzle, and I suspected the answers would not be happy ones. At six, I’d only had a vague grasp of my circumstances, knowing I counted on two unreliable adults to look after me. It had been a horrible existence; not knowing how to make them love me, I had retreated into myself and taken smal steps against Phil the bul y who had made a project of hurting me.
I rather admired my child-self for that, even though I could have avoided some pain by keeping silent.
I strained to remember more. My name. It seemed a simple thing, one I should remember.
‘Sky, are you al right?’ Zed thought I’d brooded for long enough and had come in search of me bearing a takeaway cup.
‘I’m OK. Just thinking.’
He handed me the container. ‘You’ve done enough of that. Here, I made you hot chocolate. Not as good as the café’s, I know, but it should warm you up.’
‘Thanks. I need a chocolate hit right now.’
He took my elbow, steering me back towards the house. ‘Did you know that chocolate had special chemicals in it to make you feel happy?’
‘I don’t need an excuse for chocolate.’ I sipped, glancing at him sideways. The front of his hair where it was not covered by his hat carried a few snowflakes. His eyes were cheerful today—the pale green-blue of the river shal ows in the sunshine. ‘And you, have you been sneaking some of the same chemicals?’
‘Hmm?’
‘’Cause you look happy.’
He laughed. ‘No, not chocolate, just you. That’s what being a soulfinder is al about—you’re my happiness shot.’
No, that wasn’t right: my parents proved that having a soulfinder spel ed destruction. I was pretending to Zed that everything was OK but I just couldn’t do it—couldn’t take the risk. That crushing realization made me feel as if I’d just skied off a cliff and was stil in freefal . How was I going to tel Zed—
and his family—that after seeing what had happened to my mum and dad, I couldn’t be what they expected? When I landed with that news, everything was going to turn real y ugly. Zed was going to hate me—and I already hated myself.
I was so scared.
With that hanging over me, the Benedicts chose that evening to begin preparing their house for Christmas. I felt like the Judas at the feast. Saul and Trace disappeared up into the attic and emerged with boxes upon boxes of decorations.
‘You take this seriously, don’t you?’ I marvel ed, fingering a beautiful glass bauble with a golden angel suspended inside. That was me—trapped in a bubble of panic, unable to break free.
‘Of course, Sky,’ said Karla. ‘We col ect as we travel. My family in the Savant Net, they send me special decorations to add to it each year. It would be an insult to the giver if we did not use them.’
Zed, standing behind his mother, rol ed his eyes.
‘Mom doesn’t think one decoration enough when ten wil do. You’l think you’re standing in the Christmas department of Macy’s by the time we finish.’
No inflatable Santas for the Benedicts. Every artefact was exquisitely handmade and unique. I found a carved nativity set from South America, a string of icicle lights from Canada, and Venetian glass baubles. Part of me craved to belong to this wider family of people with the same kind of gifts, but I didn’t deserve to, not when I rejected their ways. I was going to have to say something and soon—it wasn’t fair to let them al treat me like one of them when I’d already made my decision to cut myself off from that future. But as each moment ticked by, I couldn’t find the courage to speak.