Free Home by Shayna Krishnasamy Page B

was a crafty one. She was the first person he’d ever met who also knew what would come after . He’d felt her trying to tell him things when she’d beckoned him, but he’d closed his mind and refused to let her. Then he’d felt her stroking his cheek, although she hadn’t moved an inch. It had shocked him so much that he’d nearly opened his mind to her by accident.
    Liam didn’t think the old woman had any business touching him without her hands. That was nonsense. He had very little patience for nonsense.
    He watched over Shallah as she slept. She was even prettier when she was asleep. She didn’t have bad dreams the way he did, dreams about before and sometimes about after . Sometimes before and after got mixed up in the dream, and he didn’t know where he was. He knew he had to be careful of dreams because dreams could be confusing. Once he’d thought a dream had been telling him something about after but he’d been very, very wrong. It was upsetting to be so wrong. Dreams were sneaky things and you had to be careful of them. He’d learned that lesson.
    It was after that worried him. He was getting the feeling that terrible things were going to happen, but he couldn’t make out what they were. He didn’t know when they would start, or when they would end. They might start any minute. They might start this very night. But Liam wasn’t afraid. He couldn’t be afraid. He had to look after Shallah and make sure nothing bad happened to her, because he was in charge. It was hard work, being in charge.
    He awoke to the fog. It was thick and lay low on the land so when he got to his feet, as Shallah slept on, he couldn’t see more than a few paces in front of him. When he reached out his hand it was like reaching into a void. He thought it was like reaching into time, reaching into after . It was an odd feeling.
    They’d slept in the bed of a dry ravine at the foot of a steep cliff. Liam had chosen to stop there the night before because the way ahead was very steep – a climb for morningtime. He didn’t really understand what it meant to go around the hills, but he thought they must be nearly there. They must be approaching the eastern path. He hoped so. He’d never known how lonely it was to be in charge.
    As hunger began to curl and snarl in his belly, Liam left Shallah’s side and climbed a little way up the path. He wanted to rise above the fog and look over the way they’d come. There wasn’t much movement in the forest below. He heard a crow calling and the wind licked at his ears. The fog blotted out most of the view, making the trees seem half as tall. He was disappointed, but he didn’t budge from his perch on the boulder. He didn’t know why, but he felt it was very important that he stay there, looking out. The mist swirled around the tree trunks. The branches creaked. He began to feel a little silly. Then he caught sight of something.
    It was only a movement at the base of the trees, a glimpse out of the corner of his eye. Liam leaned forward, his hands holding tight to the rock. He could see them.
    Wolves. They came steadily on, spread out in a jagged line, each two trees apart. They kept their heads low and wove through the trunks, their eyes glittering. Not once did they pause in their steps. They were following the path Shallah and Liam had followed the day before. They’d caught their scent.
    Then, just as suddenly as they’d appeared, they were gone. The mist fell upon them again and Liam could see nothing but the upper branches of the trees they were passing beneath. He searched for them, straining to see through the shifting milky air, but it was no use.
    He felt very strange. He was breathless to share what he’d seen with Shallah, but at the same time he couldn’t make himself move. He could only stare at the place where he’d seen the wolves, every muscle in his body tense. Finally he came back to himself and slipped off the boulder. He had to show Shallah what he’d seen.