of home-baked bread before leaving the warm cabin for the chilling air outside. A few steps away I turn for a last look, but the cabin is gone. Without the proof before my eyes it’s easy to think I imagined the whole thing. Instinctively I feel the top of my finger again. No wound. No tenderness. Nothing.
What on earth is happening to me?
Ethan tugs on my arm. ‘C’mon, Isabel, we have to hurry. We can’t risk upsetting your brother. We have to be careful not to alert anyone to what we’re doing. There’re these codes, you see, that must never be broken. The first is secrecy …’
By the time we get back to the house I sadly understandwhat’s happening: I definitely am going crazy.
But we start training the very next day, straight after school, on the far side of the lake where hardly anyone goes. I’ve had all night to think about this strange other world within my mortal world, as Ethan puts it, and I have to admit it does sound a little exciting. Travelling backwards through time? Making sure the past evolves as it should? Wow.
But I’m no fool. It could still be some nasty elaborate hoax. A practical joke of the lowest degree. I wouldn’t put it past Ethan, or Matt for that matter.
Once we get right around the other side of Angel Falls Lake, it takes another twenty minutes for Ethan to be satisfied there’s no one in the area. He’s really careful about this secrecy stuff. It’s all part of their survival apparently. ‘We should really be training indoors,’ he explains. ‘Arkarian has training rooms within the mountain but I find it stifling in there when we have all this.’ He holds up his hands to the surrounding mountains and brilliant sky overhead. ‘People rarely come here anyway.’
We find a small open glen surrounded by tall woodland on three sides and the lake on the fourth. Ethan puts his bag down and, as it’s already growing chilly, decides to make a fire. Tediously he starts explaining where to get the tinder and how it must be laid first, with the smallest pieces of kindling placed gently on top in a pyramid, allowing enough space to start a flame. He goes to light the tinder, but the shredded bark he’s using is moist. The fire doesn’t start. I could have told him when he first collected the stuff not to get it from fallen timber lying on the ground, as it would have absorbed moisture, especially this high upin the hills and close to winter. Standing dead timber is best. But as he simply assumes my survival skills are nonexistent, I let him continue, knowing the fire will take a long time to start.
A few minutes later, my patience runs out. ‘Here.’ I gather some tinder of my own, exchanging it with his stuff. ‘Try this.’
In seconds a small flame is burning and soon the heavier kindling ignites. He stands back, staring into the flames. ‘You’ve done this before.’ It’s a statement.
‘Yes.’
‘Well then, let’s try something physical.’ He quickly switches into lecture mode again, this time explaining a thing or two about the art of karate.
Now I know I really should tell him, but again he hasn’t stopped to ask, assuming, I guess, that as I’m a girl, a small one at that, I wouldn’t have any physical skills. So I let him explain the basic points on stance and breathing and how important it is to control the mind. He paces through a simple self-defensive movement I learned six years ago in my first lesson. Then I throw him. His back thumps down hard on the cold ground.
‘Hey!’
‘Yes?’ I help him to his feet.
He stands back, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘You’ve done this before too.’
I nod. ‘I have a black belt.’
He’s fast getting ticked off, ego thoroughly bruised. ‘Anything else I should know?’
I do a quick mental check of the skills I’ve picked up over the years: rock climbing, abseiling, archery, fencing. I won competitions last year in both those last twosports. But I don’t say anything to Ethan. I’m not sure
What on earth is happening to me?
Ethan tugs on my arm. ‘C’mon, Isabel, we have to hurry. We can’t risk upsetting your brother. We have to be careful not to alert anyone to what we’re doing. There’re these codes, you see, that must never be broken. The first is secrecy …’
By the time we get back to the house I sadly understandwhat’s happening: I definitely am going crazy.
But we start training the very next day, straight after school, on the far side of the lake where hardly anyone goes. I’ve had all night to think about this strange other world within my mortal world, as Ethan puts it, and I have to admit it does sound a little exciting. Travelling backwards through time? Making sure the past evolves as it should? Wow.
But I’m no fool. It could still be some nasty elaborate hoax. A practical joke of the lowest degree. I wouldn’t put it past Ethan, or Matt for that matter.
Once we get right around the other side of Angel Falls Lake, it takes another twenty minutes for Ethan to be satisfied there’s no one in the area. He’s really careful about this secrecy stuff. It’s all part of their survival apparently. ‘We should really be training indoors,’ he explains. ‘Arkarian has training rooms within the mountain but I find it stifling in there when we have all this.’ He holds up his hands to the surrounding mountains and brilliant sky overhead. ‘People rarely come here anyway.’
We find a small open glen surrounded by tall woodland on three sides and the lake on the fourth. Ethan puts his bag down and, as it’s already growing chilly, decides to make a fire. Tediously he starts explaining where to get the tinder and how it must be laid first, with the smallest pieces of kindling placed gently on top in a pyramid, allowing enough space to start a flame. He goes to light the tinder, but the shredded bark he’s using is moist. The fire doesn’t start. I could have told him when he first collected the stuff not to get it from fallen timber lying on the ground, as it would have absorbed moisture, especially this high upin the hills and close to winter. Standing dead timber is best. But as he simply assumes my survival skills are nonexistent, I let him continue, knowing the fire will take a long time to start.
A few minutes later, my patience runs out. ‘Here.’ I gather some tinder of my own, exchanging it with his stuff. ‘Try this.’
In seconds a small flame is burning and soon the heavier kindling ignites. He stands back, staring into the flames. ‘You’ve done this before.’ It’s a statement.
‘Yes.’
‘Well then, let’s try something physical.’ He quickly switches into lecture mode again, this time explaining a thing or two about the art of karate.
Now I know I really should tell him, but again he hasn’t stopped to ask, assuming, I guess, that as I’m a girl, a small one at that, I wouldn’t have any physical skills. So I let him explain the basic points on stance and breathing and how important it is to control the mind. He paces through a simple self-defensive movement I learned six years ago in my first lesson. Then I throw him. His back thumps down hard on the cold ground.
‘Hey!’
‘Yes?’ I help him to his feet.
He stands back, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘You’ve done this before too.’
I nod. ‘I have a black belt.’
He’s fast getting ticked off, ego thoroughly bruised. ‘Anything else I should know?’
I do a quick mental check of the skills I’ve picked up over the years: rock climbing, abseiling, archery, fencing. I won competitions last year in both those last twosports. But I don’t say anything to Ethan. I’m not sure
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