PROLOGUE
I didn't run.
I refused to run.
The figure in a black cloak, a girl, was short, much shorter than me, and didn't seem at all threatening. Well, apart from the large kitchen knife. Covered by the dark, fur-lined silk of her cloak, her face was hidden in shadow, totally obliterating any hope of guessing who she was working for. She looked about ten (although I knew looks could be deceiving), which meant there was every chance she was the apprentice of some crazy old witch who remembered who my mother was. She took another jerky step forwards, tripping on the miniature boulders that littered the pathway to the cliffs. My breath caught in my throat as she stumbled and for one precious second I believed it would be fine. Much to my annoyance, she regained her balance and slashed at me a couple of times. I dodged her as smoothly as I could in the rocky terrain.
Slowly, as not to make her suspicious, I slipped my phone out my back pocket, glancing back to see how far I was from the edge, and checking my signal whilst I was at it. Both the things I saw dismayed me. Barely eight feet from the very last tip of the ledge that leant precariously over the sea and no means of contacting Shadow. For a second, time stopped, and I could see everything, hear everything, smell everything. The salty waves crashing against the cliff face beneath me, at least the tide was in, the sea gulls cawing and squawking and fighting over who would get the last scrap of fish gut, the last ruby red fingers of the setting sun peeping out from behind orange tinted clouds. Without warning, I took a few sudden paces backwards, not looking where I was going, just praying that I hadn’t overestimated the gap between me and long drop. My foot went partway over the edge and my arms windmilled, pretending to desperately grab out for something to stop me from ‘falling’. As I had hoped, the girl dropped her weapon and came rushing forwards, hoping to take advantage of my ‘trip’ and push me of the cliff. For once, luck went my way, and the wind clawed at her cloak, dislodging the hood. A curtain of blonde hair tumbled down to hide her black eyes. I dropped all pretences of losing my balance and stood dumbfounded. My shocked voice came out hoarse and under-used, “Melanie?”
She clapped slowly, sarcastically, with her default smirk plastered over her fury of being recognised.
“Duh!! What took you so long Luke, I thought you knew me! Y’know, if it weren’t for your stupid brat of a sister, I would invite you to join me. I WAS gonna take you anyway but now you know who I am, I guess I’ll have to kill you or something.”
Melanie had grinned it in such an offhand way, as if it were a perfectly natural thing to consider, as if my life was no big deal. Hysterical giggles fought to burst through my lips, Melanie cocked her head to the side, clearly wondering if I’d gone mad. She obviously didn’t understand the humour in a tiny girl threatening a boy almost twice her size. But then again, Melanie had never seen the funny side of life, not for the ten years I’d known her before I ran away, at least. She grinned, her blood red lips pulling into an eerie parody of the one I had grown up knowing. Silently, I prayed to any god, deity or spirit whose name and purpose I could remember (I figured that it was better to be safe than sorry) to help me, to bless the twisted girl in front of me with mercy, something she had been lacking for the last decade. Obviously, they decided to ignore me, instead giving life to Melanie, who had frozen into statue at my laughter. With her talon-tipped fingernails, she reached into the massive pockets of the horrible cloak (I could recognise it now, and could easily see the various bloodstains (including a fox’s, a starling’s and of course Shadow’s blood) that decorated the hem) and elegantly drew out a small piece of neatly written on paper.
“In case you survive the fall,” explained Melanie, obviously seeing the flash of confusion that had appeared on my face as she produced the note. As I was processing her words she swiftly tucked the crumbled piece of paper into my jacket pocket, planted her palm against my chest and pushed. Before I had realised what was going on, I was falling, arms outstretched, off the cliff.
My head twisted frantically from side to side in a desperate attempt to see where I was going to land. Much to my dismay, I saw jagged rocks forcing their way out of both sea and shore alike. I had no chance. Shadow's shock of purple coloured hair made an uneven blob against the red sun-dyed sand. I could clearly see that see knew it was me. She turned, in a blind panic, to run back inside, to get some stupid spell to try and save me. I saw her return, heavy tome in hand. It was no use. Land or water, I wondered.
The tiny flame of hope that I had refused to douse all my life, even in the worst situation, flickered then died. The sand raced up to meet me. Everything went black.
