In the centre of the grassy space was a windmill. It was made of stone and wood, with eight long canvas sails, and they were turning very slowly in the gentle breeze. The rotating sails made the rhythmic creak . . . creak . . . creak . . . that I’d heard before, mixing with the sound of waves on the rocks far below. Next to the windmill was a pool ringed with rushes, and white birds were perched beside it, dipping their beaks into the fresh water.
I walked towards the windmill, my footsteps quiet on the grass. The birds took flight as I approached, circling up into the warm air. I halted a little way from the windmill, looking up at the stone windows. “Anne?” I called quietly. My voice cracked, and I had to swallow and try again. “Anne, it’s Alex. I’m down here.”
There was a moment’s pause, then a face appeared in one of the open windows. It was Anne, and at the sight of her something tense inside me relaxed at last as a warm feeling of relief went through my body. It had been worth it.
Anne’s face was in shadow and I couldn’t read her expression as she stared down at me. “Alex?”
“Mind if I come in?” I said. “You look like you’ve got fewer patients this time.”
Anne stood for a second, then disappeared. I heard running footsteps, then the door swung open and Anne stepped out into the evening light. She was staring, and I knew she was using her lifesight, checking to see whether it was really me. “It is you,” she said. “I didn’t believe— How did . . . ?”
All the time I’d been searching for Anne I’d only looked for her presence, the sound of her voice, because that was the quickest way to identify her through the futures. I hadn’t bothered to check for what she’d looked like. Now that I thought about it, I should have been expecting it. She’d been attacked while she was sleeping, after all.
Anne was wearing a long T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. The T-shirt had once been bright pink but had faded with age, and there were holes along the seams. On the front was a picture of the Disney cast of Winnie the Pooh, all sharing a hug and waving, with Sweet Dreams written underneath the picture in cutesy lettering, decorated with yellow stars. I stared at it for a second, then burst out laughing.
Anne looked at me in confusion, then she figured it out and her expression changed to exasperation. She folded her arms, covering up the Sweet Dreams and shifting her bare feet on the stone steps. I kept laughing and she spoke loudly enough for me to hear over it. “Are you finished?”
I shook my head. Somehow it felt like the most hilarious thing I’d ever seen. I think it was relief more than anything else—I’d been so wound up that now I just couldn’t stop laughing. “That—” I managed. “That T-shirt.”
“What about my T-shirt?”
I looked at Anne. She didn’t look particularly embarrassed about being caught in her sleepwear—she just looked annoyed, and the expression on her face made me double over and crack up again.
“Could you please stop doing that?” Anne said over my laughter.
“I’m sorry,” I said, wiping my eyes. “It’s just— It looks like a nightie for a little girl.”
“I was asleep. What did you think I’d be wearing?”
“Honestly? Never thought about it.” I still had the urge to keep laughing.
“Look, I’m sorry if it doesn’t look nice, but I didn’t know I was going to be kidnapped when I was choosing what to wear to bed. It’s not like—”
I closed the distance to Anne in two quick strides and put my arms around her. Pressed against me, she felt light and underweight, as though she’d been starved. “Alex?” Anne said in surprise.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” I said quietly.
I’d expected Anne to pull away but she didn’t move. We stood there for a little while, the sails of the windmill gliding steadily by over our heads as the rays of the setting sun fell all around. From above the birds looked down curiously, watching from their perches upon the high walls.
“So what happened?” I asked Anne a little while later.
The interior of the windmill was roomy, with high ceilings and ancient iron machinery. Square windows looked out onto the ocean, and the beams of the setting sun painted gold light onto the stone walls. Anne was curled up like a mouse in a nest of old sacks she’d made for herself. I’d given her my greatcoat; she was tall enough that it fit, even if it was a little baggy. There wasn’t anything I could do about her bare feet, but she’d tucked them into her sack-bed for now. I’d finished telling Anne the shortened version of my side of the story, and now I wanted to hear hers.
“I don’t remember much of it,” Anne said in her soft voice. “After I finished talking to you that night I went home, made dinner, washed up, and went to bed. Then the next thing I knew my head was spinning, all my nerves were screaming, and I was being hit with lightning.”
“You played dead?”
“It was all I could think to do. I didn’t know what was going on, but he wasn’t trying to kill me. So I stopped moving and waited for him to get close.”
“He thought you were knocked out?”
“I nearly was,” Anne admitted. “But . . . I can take a lot more than most people think I can. I’ve been shot and stabbed and a lot worse, and it hurts, but I can fix it. Once I had the chance to brace myself, that electric spell wasn’t too bad.”
I raised my eyebrows at that. I’ve never been hit by a really powerful electric shock so I don’t know what it feels like, but I had to wonder what kind of things Anne was comparing it to if a full-power lightning spell “wasn’t too bad.” “So you stunned him and jumped through the gate?”
“I didn’t mean to. I wanted to get out the door, but when I saw it was locked I knew I wouldn’t be able to get it open in time.” Anne was briefly silent. “I knew where I was the instant I stepped through, but by then it was too late. I just ran for the bridge.”
“Why not the woods?”
“Because I tried that the first time I ran away. It doesn’t work; there isn’t enough forest before you hit the boundary. I went into the castle instead, then those Dark mages came through behind me.”
“They’re Sagash’s apprentices.”
Anne nodded. “I thought they were. The first place they checked was the forest. It gave me enough time to get into the castle and I lost them in the courtyards.”
“You did a pretty good job,” I said. “I don’t think many mages would have lasted this long here.”
Anne didn’t smile. “It’s not my first time.”
“Well,” I said, “you’re the expert. What’s the best way out?”
“The main gate. But I don’t have a key.”
I held up the fluted rod I’d taken from Darren. “You mean one of these?”
“That’s it.”
“One slight problem,” I said. “Darren and Sam stuck a squad of eight of those shadows on top of the platform.” I’d taken a few minutes to confirm it after breaking away from the three apprentices, and Ji-yeong had been telling the truth. “Don’t suppose you know a way to deal with those things?”
Anne shook her head; she looked weary. “They’re not alive, my magic can’t touch them. It was why I could never get away. There are too many and they don’t get tired or give up.”
Anne’s head was down. “Well, it might not be that bad,” I said, trying to sound cheerful. “From what I overheard, I think Sagash only lets his apprentices play with four of them each. If they’ve got their shadows there, they haven’t got them out here looking for us.”
Anne didn’t answer. “Any other ways out?” I asked.
“Maybe.” Anne shook her head. “Yeah. I don’t know exactly . . . Somewhere.” Her eyes drifted closed for half a second, then she pulled herself awake again. “What was that?”