‘Uh, no, thank you.’ He takes a book out of the shelf, flips a few pages, then returns it to a different spot nonchalantly. My insides grit at both the blunt response and the complete disregard for my alphabetical filing system.
‘Are you looking for something in particular?’
Again, he takes a book, flips a few pages and returns it misplaced in a different spot. My smile quivers and I manage to pull my scathing glare away from the book. ‘Okay, well, do call if you need further assistance.’
When he finally moves down the aisle, I inconspicuously reorder the books he moved. This continues throughout nearly the whole shop. Each book, a new anger boils within. I do wish he would just pick something already. Finally, in the last aisle, I flare a glare over in irritation and it meets his hazel eyes, a suppressed smirk emerging on his face.
‘Sorry, it was just too funny. I couldn’t help it.’
My cheeks flush. ‘You were doing it on purpose?’
‘Well, not initially. But once I noticed… I-I just can’t believe you did it this far. We’re at the other end of the store.’
I huff, sliding the last book back in place. ‘Yes, how humorous it is to make someone’s work harder.’ These wealthy types, honestly.
‘The Great Impersonation,’ he says. I smile– the irony not lost on me. ‘E. Phillips Oppenheim. Do you know it?’
Do I know it? Of course I know it. I glance at the open book sprawled out on the retail counter.
‘I know it. But I’m sorry we don’t have it in stock,’ I say. ‘The last copy sold yesterday.’
His expression sinks. A plan hatches in the back of my mind. Take any and all opportunities. Do what you have to do, say what you have to say, my father said, and deceit is what my father knows best.
‘Although,’ I say, moving back towards the desk. ‘I do have a copy myself that you can borrow once I’ve finished. I can drop it off at your house.’ This surely won’t work. I’m coming on too strong. The boy ponders for a moment.
‘Really? I very well may take you up on that offer. That would be great,’ he says. I nod, speechless. Just how trusting is this person?
‘I’ll write down my address. Do you have a pen and paper?’
‘U-uh, yes. Of course.’ I rummage through drawers, eventually pulling a scrap of paper and fountain pen from its depths. There’s still a chance that this isn’t him, that this isn’t the person I’m meant to be looking for. The customer takes the paper and pen and writes his name down as if it’s nothing special. William Stanwood.
My jaw clenches. It’s him. This is the one.
He hands the paper to me, a gentle smile on his face. My entire body turns cold. I truly wish he wasn’t so naive.
Waking up, I stare at the wooden ceiling from the couch. I’m sure I was dreaming, but the fragments are now distorted, my memory foggy. Turning over, I watch the small snowflakes drift down to the ground outside, illuminated by the faint light of the moon.
6
The dull thuds echo throughout the silent forest. Over and over, until my arms can’t take much more. With a last pathetic swing, the wood finally splits in half, woodchips splintering as the blade forces its way through. My laugh comes out breathy and hysterical as I look over to Xander with triumph. It’s taken me days to chop through that. He sits on a large tree stump nearby, his little legs stopping just short of the ground.
‘Look, did you see? I did it,’ I say, tossing the axe to the ground. The boy looks over nonchalantly before stretching his arms to the sky.
‘What about all those?’ he says, nodding to the pile of wooden stumps behind me. As I look back, I groan. He smirks, looking over my current efforts. ‘I guess we can use just that for today. It’s really just for you anyway.’
Xander gives a small smile when I take a seat next to him.
‘The weather seems somewhat better today,’ I say. I can’t stand the silence here. A gentle breeze rattles through the forest; although soft, it still pierces through my hooded jumper. Pulling the hood up over my head, I try to block out the chill. An amused grunt comes from the boy’s direction. I can’t help but frown. ‘What?’
Xander raises his eyebrows. ‘You don’t like the cold?’
I stand again, rubbing my arms. ‘No, not particularly. Does anyone?’
He shrugs, looking away. ‘No, I guess not.’
Rubbing my arms, I glance around at the eerie trees, their canopies blanketed in thick white snow. Light scatters across the ground, the snow glinting like glass. ‘Where’s the cottage?’ I say. Xander blinks, returning to reality. Sliding off the stump, he joins me.
‘There’s a barrier. It distorts the world around it so that other demons can’t find us.’
‘Oh, okay.’ I didn’t know there were other demons around. That makes things more complicated. No point running away from one demon who can’t harm me, right into the arms of one who can.
A sharp wind roars through the forest, forcing the mass of trees into a chaotic dance, and my own steps to fumble backwards. Xander’s posture shifts, his eyes glowing a concerning red. ‘We need to go.’ He snatches my sleeve and pulls hard, moving us deeper into the forest. His pull shortly transitions to a drag. My feet stumble against logs and uneven terrain, humanly flawed compared to his own perfected footsteps and speed.
‘What’s going on?’
Xander doesn’t answer. Instead, he looks around frantically, taking small moments where he closes his eyes altogether. He’s listening. Hearing something I don’t, he jerks us in a different direction, catching me off guard. The wind roars once more but this time it bellows in my ears, deeper and more menacing.
Xander turns back to me, his mind tinkering away behind his eyes. ‘We won’t make it in time.’
‘Xander, what do you…’ The breeze swirling against my ankles alerts me to the purple mist crawling across the forest floor. It tumbles over rocks and down ledges as a thick hungry wave. I might even find it mesmerising if not for Xander’s petrified expression. My own body mimics his, a sense of dread forming at the pit of my stomach. As if to contradict the fear, the scent of sickeningly sweet candy filters through the air. The demon boy beside me cowers.
‘He’s found me,’ he stammers. ‘They’ve found me.’ I think back to the individuals Xander mentioned earlier. Are they going to take him to hell? I grab his wrist and drag him through the trees, the both of us stumbling to just shy of the clearing. The fog keeps up with us easily, eventually surrounding us. Xander clutches my arm, his claws digging hard into my skin. I wince. A rushing of scattering paws erupts close by. Xander must’ve heard them coming before I could.
‘Where’s William?’ I whisper but the boy is frozen, his gaze averted. My grip is hard as I shake him relentlessly. Nothing.
An eerie silence falls, causing my breath to catch somewhere in my throat. Xander peers behind me. A chill runs through my warm veins. I can feel their gaze on my back.
Gathering courage or conceding to fear, I turn.
