A Kingdom of Our Own

Chapter Sixteen - Pennies

Although they still had a good couple of hours’ worth of daylight left, neither of them had the desire to walk on any further and so they decided it would be best to make camp for the night. And as Harry pointed out, he doubted they’d be able to find a much better place to camp further down the line - a rather shaded spot, set aside from the tracks, with flat camping ground and a fresh water supply to drink from and bathe in.

It was a wise decision to do so too, because on that night there was none of the discomfort and unwanted dreams that they had been plagued with on the previous. In fact they were so knackered from the day’s events that they simply drifted off, with little effort, and slept soundly from nine that evening, until Dalton was roused at around seven the following morning.

He rolled onto his side to see Harry lying motionless in his sleeping bag beside him, his blonde hair sticking out from the from behind the sheet, and that brought him onto wonder on what it was that had woken him. His brow creased for a moment in thought and then it hit him.

That was it! He’d heard something. Something moving.

He sat up with an abrupt jerk, all of a sudden on edge and rubbed his eyes so he could examine his surroundings - and that’s when he saw the figure sitting beside the tracks. At first he thought he was just seeing things, his overactive mind playing tricks on him, but gradually his eyes widened as he realised who it was he was looking at.

Elijah was wearing jeans, a leather jacket, and hiking boots, but his motorbike was nowhere to be seen. So how had he got here? How had he found them? The list of questions he needed answers to went on and on, and he realised he wasn’t doing any good just sitting there, besides wracking his brain to death. So he rolled out of his sleeping bag, slipped on a t-shirt and padded lightly across the clearing towards his brother, his feet bare, with gravel already getting stuck in-between his toes.

As if he’d been expecting Dalton to arise at any instant, Elijah turned to face his brother who stood silently behind him and said softly, “Hi Dalton.”

Dalton nodded slightly, sat down cross-legged beside him and with an eyebrow raised, he asked, “Elijah, what are you doing here? How did you find us?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Elijah replied simply, looking into Dalton’s eyes intently, as if trying to read his emotions and thoughts at present. “All that matters right now is that I’m here.” He pulled his younger sibling into a tight hug with his one arm and kissed the top of his head, and for a short while neither said anything. Just being back together, in one and other’s embrace, was enough to satisfy them.

“I-I knew you’d find me,” Dalton eventually said shakily, his eyes glazed over – partially from high emotions and partially from tiredness. “I know you must think I’m low down and miserable for running away. Do you hate me?”

“Of course not! How could I hate my little brother? Do you think I’d be here if I did?” Elijah exclaimed, pulling him ever closer into his embrace.

“I guess not,” Dalton agreed with a shrug. “So, how have people back home reacted?”

Elijah spoke very slowly and carefully at first. He was a twelve-year-old kid, a smart one, but he knew him and he was well aware that at this moment, he was nothing but a scared little boy. He might hear his words, or he might hear what he wanted to hear, so he had to be careful.

He went on to explain that there was no officially accepted theory and that rumours and gossip had produced all sorts of wild speculation about his disappearance. One reporter who had conducted an interview with Blake had in fact claimed that Dalton had a history of psychiatric problems, and thus had given rise to theories that he’d gone nuts and run off for no apparent reason. Elijah mocked Blake’s voice as he impersonated his statement to the press: