Skellig

Chapter 21

WE STOOD IN THE BACKYARD. WHISPER sat beneath us. We picked the bluebottles and webs out of each other’s clothes and hair. Her eyes were burning bright.

“He’s an extraordinary being,” she said.

The breeze blew and the garage creaked.

“We’ll take him out tonight,” she said.

“At dawn,” I said.

“We’ll call each other. We’ll hoot like owls. We’ll make sure we wake.”

We stared into each other.

“An extraordinary being,” she whispered.

She opened her hand and showed me the dark ball of congealed skin and bone she had brought out with her.

“What is it?” I said.

She bit her lip.

“It can’t be what I think it is,” she said. “It can’t be.”

Dad came to the back window. He stood there watching us.

“I’ll go back now,” I said. “I’ll carry on doing the garden.”

“I’ll go back to making the blackbird.”

“I’ll see you at dawn.”

“At dawn. I won’t sleep.”

She squeezed my hand, slipped out through the gate with Whisper at her heels.

I turned back into the yard. I waved at Dad. My heart was thundering. I knelt in the soil, wrenched at the weeds, sent black beetles scattering.

“He won’t die,” I whispered. “He won’t just die.”

Later, Dad came out. We drank orange juice together and sat against the house wall.

He grinned.

“You like Mina, then,” he said.

I shrugged.

“You do,” he said.

“She’s extraordinary,” I said.