of a sheep; its hollow head twisted upward as if pleading for help. Water cascaded through its
eye cavities. Is this what would happen to Dawn’s body? Kite shuddered at the thought of the locket she’d given Dawn hanging off her bones. She caught her breath, felt the acid rise
from her empty stomach and vomited bitter yellow mucus that seemed to tear at her guts as they contracted and she retched and retched until nothing was left inside her. Her legs were shaking as she
scrambled back up the steep path towards the entrance.
‘Are you going to help me unpack?’ Seth called.
‘I want to go home!’ Kite said, shaking her head.
Seth gnawed on his lower lip as if giving himself time to search for an appropriate response. ‘I’m exhausted, Kite. I’ve driven all this way. I think you are too,’ he
said, reaching for her face.
Kite stepped away from him so that he wouldn’t smell the sick on her breath. All she needed now was a new bout of his fretting.
‘Look how pale you are. I tell you what – let’s sleep on it and see how you feel in the morning.’
‘There’s a dead sheep in the waterfall.’ She felt icy cold again, just as she had on the Falling Day, standing outside Mr Scott’s office. ‘Frozen to the bone’
– people said that, didn’t they? That’s how that poor sheep must have felt too when it fell off the path and realized it was stranded. She wondered how long it would have taken
for it to give up bleating for help.
‘Nature can be brutal. That must have been horrible for you. I’ll move it first thing in the morning. But apart from that, what do you think?’ Seth spread his arms out to show
off the building. ‘I’ve never stayed anywhere as plush as this. Come on, Kite, give it a chance, eh?’ He took her by the shoulders and guided her through the entrance to the
kitchen.
‘Dresser . . . wood-burning stove . . . magnificent wooden table!’ Seth enthused, running his hands over the smooth light wood. ‘This will do!’
He had in his hands an instruction folder that he read from as he walked over to a dresser to the right of the stove and took out what looked like a TV remote.
‘Says that this is the key to making things work around here.’ He placed the folder on the table and took his reading glasses from his pocket.
Kite walked out of the kitchen and along a wide adjoining walkway with a plain white wall to its left and a glass wall to its right that formed the outside of the house. It was like a sort of
bridge between two rooms. Under Kite’s feet the floor was made of intermittent sandstone and glass panels, reminding her of stepping stones in a stream she’d crossed once with Dawn on a
school trip to Wales. Dawn had picked her way cautiously across and Kite had leaped from stepping stone to stone, finally landing flat on her face and getting soaked. Dawn’s Tinkerbell giggle
echoed back at her. Under the panels of glass gushed the waterfall that seemed to mirror light backwards and forward off the building. She supposed that’s why it was called Mirror Falls. The
name was fitting, Kite thought as she glanced around the glass building; the mirror that Dawn and Kite had so often been reflected in together had fallen, shattered into a million pieces.
Kite peered down through the glass stepping stones, and on the third panel she took a step backwards on to the firm stone. Under this transparent panel, one step away from her, the sheep carcass
was clearly visible. She stared at the water rushing through the skeleton. With or without the grim carcass there would never be anything peaceful about this place because it would always be moving
beneath her feet.
‘Don’t dwell on that now!’ Seth pleaded, taking her hand and dragging her through towards the living room. At the end of the indoor stepping-stone bridge, to her left there was
a glass spiral staircase winding upward to a level above the glass ceiling of the living room. She was relieved to find
eye cavities. Is this what would happen to Dawn’s body? Kite shuddered at the thought of the locket she’d given Dawn hanging off her bones. She caught her breath, felt the acid rise
from her empty stomach and vomited bitter yellow mucus that seemed to tear at her guts as they contracted and she retched and retched until nothing was left inside her. Her legs were shaking as she
scrambled back up the steep path towards the entrance.
‘Are you going to help me unpack?’ Seth called.
‘I want to go home!’ Kite said, shaking her head.
Seth gnawed on his lower lip as if giving himself time to search for an appropriate response. ‘I’m exhausted, Kite. I’ve driven all this way. I think you are too,’ he
said, reaching for her face.
Kite stepped away from him so that he wouldn’t smell the sick on her breath. All she needed now was a new bout of his fretting.
‘Look how pale you are. I tell you what – let’s sleep on it and see how you feel in the morning.’
‘There’s a dead sheep in the waterfall.’ She felt icy cold again, just as she had on the Falling Day, standing outside Mr Scott’s office. ‘Frozen to the bone’
– people said that, didn’t they? That’s how that poor sheep must have felt too when it fell off the path and realized it was stranded. She wondered how long it would have taken
for it to give up bleating for help.
‘Nature can be brutal. That must have been horrible for you. I’ll move it first thing in the morning. But apart from that, what do you think?’ Seth spread his arms out to show
off the building. ‘I’ve never stayed anywhere as plush as this. Come on, Kite, give it a chance, eh?’ He took her by the shoulders and guided her through the entrance to the
kitchen.
‘Dresser . . . wood-burning stove . . . magnificent wooden table!’ Seth enthused, running his hands over the smooth light wood. ‘This will do!’
He had in his hands an instruction folder that he read from as he walked over to a dresser to the right of the stove and took out what looked like a TV remote.
‘Says that this is the key to making things work around here.’ He placed the folder on the table and took his reading glasses from his pocket.
Kite walked out of the kitchen and along a wide adjoining walkway with a plain white wall to its left and a glass wall to its right that formed the outside of the house. It was like a sort of
bridge between two rooms. Under Kite’s feet the floor was made of intermittent sandstone and glass panels, reminding her of stepping stones in a stream she’d crossed once with Dawn on a
school trip to Wales. Dawn had picked her way cautiously across and Kite had leaped from stepping stone to stone, finally landing flat on her face and getting soaked. Dawn’s Tinkerbell giggle
echoed back at her. Under the panels of glass gushed the waterfall that seemed to mirror light backwards and forward off the building. She supposed that’s why it was called Mirror Falls. The
name was fitting, Kite thought as she glanced around the glass building; the mirror that Dawn and Kite had so often been reflected in together had fallen, shattered into a million pieces.
Kite peered down through the glass stepping stones, and on the third panel she took a step backwards on to the firm stone. Under this transparent panel, one step away from her, the sheep carcass
was clearly visible. She stared at the water rushing through the skeleton. With or without the grim carcass there would never be anything peaceful about this place because it would always be moving
beneath her feet.
‘Don’t dwell on that now!’ Seth pleaded, taking her hand and dragging her through towards the living room. At the end of the indoor stepping-stone bridge, to her left there was
a glass spiral staircase winding upward to a level above the glass ceiling of the living room. She was relieved to find
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