But I’m the one who has to be careful. I’ve got to learn to do everything with my other fingers. “It’s just lucky,” I say, “I haven’t caused more damage.”
“Well, now we know.”
I take a deep breath and nod.
He gives me a one-armed hug. “So. I’m ready if you are.”
“Okay.” I’m turning to go when a different painting catches my eye. It shows the seawall below the castle, sunlight buttering the edges of rocks and gilding the hair of a distant figure facing out over the firth.
“Hey! That’s me!”
Cole looks over my shoulder. “Think so?”
The figure is too far away to make out the features,but the painting next to it leaves no doubt. It shows me much closer, standing on the wall, shading my eyes with one hand and holding a golden chain in the other—a chain attached to a lobster!
“My God! All these mornings I was watching him, he was watching
me
!”
“I suppose I was watching you, too.”
“That’s different.” I stare hard at the painting. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
We climb down to the beach. By the water, Cole turns to me. “You don’t have to worry about Underwood. He’s all right.”
“How do you know he’s all right?”
“Well…,” Cole considers.
“And what’s he doing here? When did he get to Ravensbirk?”
“A few months ago. Does it matter?”
“I don’t know. Maybe not.”
“Maybe you should talk to him.”
The idea shakes me. But sooner or later, I’m going to have to talk to him about the painting I ruined. “Will you go with me?”
“Sure.” His hand reaches up and touches my hair, as if stroking a nervous cat. Then, slowly, he leans forward—
What is he doing?
—and kisses the top of my head! “See you tomorrow?”
I nod dumbly and watch him go.
My brain’s in a tumult as I turn toward home. Underwood’spaintings. Cole’s kiss. All right, it was on the top of my head, but still…
Up ahead, the dark rocks rise, and above them, glittering in afternoon light, the castle of glass. The top is almost blinding, as if on fire, flinging brilliant colors in all directions.
As I approach, a cloud slides over the sun, dropping the temperature and extinguishing the light show. For that moment, I see the parapet clearly and a distant figure looking out from it.
I have to shield my eyes to be sure. It’s Asa! He’s staring at me through field glasses. A shudder runs through me. First, the painter is spying on me. Now it’s my uncle. Who else is out there?
I’m being watched. I’m being watched all the time!
Chapter Nineteen
I don’t want to go where I’m going, but there it stands, towering above me. The sun’s back out, scattering rainbows and turning the castle into a prism.
A prison.
I’m grateful for this stretch of beach before the climb to the seawall. A few more minutes of freedom, sand warm between my toes. I wonder if Asa is still up there spying on me. Of course he is. I’m not going to look.
I’d rather look at the mirage the sun is making on the wet sand up ahead. The beach is a blinding shimmer. In the midst of it stands a tiny point of darkness.
Curious.
The trembling light recedes as I walk, but the object remains.
A shell! A beautiful conch shell. Turning it in my hand,I’m sure I’ve never seen one so perfect: off-white at its widest, threaded round with delicate brown lines, then turning coral as it spirals to a point. I’ve got to take this home with me!
You’re supposed to hear the ocean, aren’t you? Up to my ear. Nothing. I give it a shake and try again. What’s wrong with this thing?
I speak into it. “Hello?”
Immediately there’s an echo: “Hello…hello…”
“Hello!” I say louder.
“Hello!…Hello!…lo!…lo…”
This is kind of fun.
“How did you get here?”
“Get here…ere…ere…”
“Who’s in there?” I demand, smiling.
Silence.
Silence? Where’s the echo? “Is anybody
there
?” I give the shell a shake.
Again, no echo. What
“Well, now we know.”
I take a deep breath and nod.
He gives me a one-armed hug. “So. I’m ready if you are.”
“Okay.” I’m turning to go when a different painting catches my eye. It shows the seawall below the castle, sunlight buttering the edges of rocks and gilding the hair of a distant figure facing out over the firth.
“Hey! That’s me!”
Cole looks over my shoulder. “Think so?”
The figure is too far away to make out the features,but the painting next to it leaves no doubt. It shows me much closer, standing on the wall, shading my eyes with one hand and holding a golden chain in the other—a chain attached to a lobster!
“My God! All these mornings I was watching him, he was watching
me
!”
“I suppose I was watching you, too.”
“That’s different.” I stare hard at the painting. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
We climb down to the beach. By the water, Cole turns to me. “You don’t have to worry about Underwood. He’s all right.”
“How do you know he’s all right?”
“Well…,” Cole considers.
“And what’s he doing here? When did he get to Ravensbirk?”
“A few months ago. Does it matter?”
“I don’t know. Maybe not.”
“Maybe you should talk to him.”
The idea shakes me. But sooner or later, I’m going to have to talk to him about the painting I ruined. “Will you go with me?”
“Sure.” His hand reaches up and touches my hair, as if stroking a nervous cat. Then, slowly, he leans forward—
What is he doing?
—and kisses the top of my head! “See you tomorrow?”
I nod dumbly and watch him go.
My brain’s in a tumult as I turn toward home. Underwood’spaintings. Cole’s kiss. All right, it was on the top of my head, but still…
Up ahead, the dark rocks rise, and above them, glittering in afternoon light, the castle of glass. The top is almost blinding, as if on fire, flinging brilliant colors in all directions.
As I approach, a cloud slides over the sun, dropping the temperature and extinguishing the light show. For that moment, I see the parapet clearly and a distant figure looking out from it.
I have to shield my eyes to be sure. It’s Asa! He’s staring at me through field glasses. A shudder runs through me. First, the painter is spying on me. Now it’s my uncle. Who else is out there?
I’m being watched. I’m being watched all the time!
Chapter Nineteen
I don’t want to go where I’m going, but there it stands, towering above me. The sun’s back out, scattering rainbows and turning the castle into a prism.
A prison.
I’m grateful for this stretch of beach before the climb to the seawall. A few more minutes of freedom, sand warm between my toes. I wonder if Asa is still up there spying on me. Of course he is. I’m not going to look.
I’d rather look at the mirage the sun is making on the wet sand up ahead. The beach is a blinding shimmer. In the midst of it stands a tiny point of darkness.
Curious.
The trembling light recedes as I walk, but the object remains.
A shell! A beautiful conch shell. Turning it in my hand,I’m sure I’ve never seen one so perfect: off-white at its widest, threaded round with delicate brown lines, then turning coral as it spirals to a point. I’ve got to take this home with me!
You’re supposed to hear the ocean, aren’t you? Up to my ear. Nothing. I give it a shake and try again. What’s wrong with this thing?
I speak into it. “Hello?”
Immediately there’s an echo: “Hello…hello…”
“Hello!” I say louder.
“Hello!…Hello!…lo!…lo…”
This is kind of fun.
“How did you get here?”
“Get here…ere…ere…”
“Who’s in there?” I demand, smiling.
Silence.
Silence? Where’s the echo? “Is anybody
there
?” I give the shell a shake.
Again, no echo. What
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