‘Easton!’
someone calls. I think Elle.
I reach the
bottom and dig my hands into the stones to steady myself. My heart beats
quickly in my chest.
The memory of a
heart, I remind myself.
A rushing fills
my ears. A repeated crescendo of rise and crash, rolling and tumbling. I’m by
the sea. I have a flash of running on Weymouth beach. Mum chases me with a
towel. I giggle uncontrollably. It’s not a memory I’ve had before. I’m far too
young yet the memory is fresh. This isn’t Weymouth. The sea spray is cold and
harsh and stings my cheeks as I raise myself onto my elbows.
'Are you
alright, Easton?' Elle skids to a stop at my side after sliding down the slope
herself.
I can hear
Yates shouting at Teague from the top of the slope by the waves drown him out.
'I'm fine,' I
insist as I drag myself to my feet.
'What the hell
was that?' Elle shouts back up the slope. 'No warning, no asking if we want to
come with you.'
'Oh, I'm sorry,' says Teague.
'I'll leave you to rot in the next castle.'
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