CLIFF PATH
WEST, SUMMER FOREST
THE CLIFF, THE END
NOW FLY
NOWHERE
We’ll never find it, Riley thinks.Never.And there’s no way to interpret the last instruction. But there’s also nowhere else to go.
You think you’re such a clever clogs.Cousin’s voice is in her ear, clear as anything.
Riley has known for a while that she does have a demon, really. It’s Cousin, in her head. ‘Shut up, you turd,’ she mutters. That cheers her up a little.
‘Lost my manners,’ she says aloud, mimicking Cousin’s voice. ‘Were you born in a barn? Raised by wolves?’
‘Cheerio,’ Oliver says, joining in. ‘Mustn’t grumble.’
Sometimes making fun of people is the only power you have.
The climb is difficult for Oliver. He labours, breathing hard. The rocky slope crumbles like dry toast and more than once they slide, hands scraped bloody, scrabbling for a hold on the loose scree. ‘You’re doing such a good job,’ Riley tells Oliver over and over, which is true. And ‘This is the hardest part,’ which is a lie.
Eventually they stumble out of the pine-scented dark onto the ridge. The moon lights the land grey, puddles of dark in the hollows. It’s like being on the moon itself. Riley holds Oliver’s hand tight.They’re the only breathing things for miles around. Or that’s how it feels.
‘Where are we going?’ Oliver asks.
‘Up and over.’ She points. ‘We’ll be there in no time.’ The wind runs its cold fingers through her damp hair, stealing all her heat. She shivers.
‘Eat this and come on.’ Riley throws the Powerbar wrapper aside.
‘Plastic takes up to five hundred years to biodegrade,’ Oliver says, kicking a rock hard up the path ahead. It skitters, the sound echoing off the rock walls around them.
‘Don’t do that.’
‘How much further, Riley?’ They’re still on the main trail. Dawn is still a few hours away.
‘I don’t know.’
‘But how much—’
‘Quiet, Oliver.’ She can hear how mean and stretched she sounds. She had hoped they would make faster progress but Oliver is so weak.
‘I’m tired.’
‘I said be quiet.’ She’s scared that she has brought them into the wild to die – there are so many ways to die, out here.
Oliver starts to cry and Riley stops and takes him in her arms. He pushes at her with small fists.
‘Oliver Olive,’ she says, but he shakes his head. It always feels like a missing limb when Oliver is angry with her.
‘You’re a demon, Riley.’
She catches her breath and takes a moment before she speaks. ‘You need to go to the bathroom, clean your teeth, ok?’
‘I don’t want to!’ He points at her. ‘Demon!’
‘Would a demon make you clean your teeth?’
