The Missing of Moar by Bronwyn Eley - Volume 3

A young orphan and her friends find twelve skulls buried on the island they call home. When one of the skulls goes missing, Daewynn and her friends pay the price.

From Volume 3 of Tales From Netherün

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CW: Dark themes

Daewynn looked down at her hands, side by side, to the long red welt running across each palm, and thought they almost looked like a smile. Almost. She cocked her head at the pleasing way they linked up. The only thing pleasing about them.

She curled her hands shut, tears prickling in her eyes. 

Matron struck the children when she was unhappy. All the teachers did. “Displeased” was the word they used, but Daewynn wasn’t sure how to say it aloud. She hated big words.

‘Dis, disss,’ she sounded, ‘dis-plee ...’

‘Daewynn!’ Lukin shouted.

Lukin was new, only a year younger than her. His mother died in childbirth; father fell down the stairs. But Daewynn wasn’t sure how that killed a man. She fell down the stairs all the time. Her shoes were too big, cast-off from an older orphan who’d outgrown them and left when she turned of age. 

She saw more children leave on their own, rather than with a new family. Even Daewynn was considered “too old”. She’d be nine years old in a matter of weeks. On Choosing Day, most families went straight to the cribs or the playroom. 

‘Aren’t you coming?’ Lukin asked. ‘Everyone is down at the beach.’

Daewynn nodded and jogged after him in silence, sounding out that horrible word again. Dis ... plee ...

Most of the children at the orphanage had been born on the mainland, bought across the water by rowboat. 

Bought. No. Brought. Brought. 

Bought for buying, brought for bringing. Tutor Kinnel preferred striking the behind, rather than the hands, when she got things wrong. 

She’d been howling when they brought her across from the mainland. Five years old, or so she was told, with matted blonde hair and too-pink skin. Both parents killed when they “displeased” the wrong man. 

That word again. 

But she’d been spared and brought here, to the orphanage on Flatley Island, one of only a handful buildings on the entire island. It was completely flat, covered in silvergrass, all greys and greens and yellows. Northside of the island was all big cliffs and angry waters. Southside was the beach. It wasn’t a big island. She and her friends could run from one end to the other, straight across the middle, without stopping. 

Daewynn stared at the waves coming in. Where did they go? Children came here and ended up in the orphanage. The waves came, same as them, but they disappeared. What was their trick? And why couldn’t they take her too? If only the ocean were a person that could adopt her ...

‘Daewynn!’ Lukin cried again. He was crouched with Shelley and Mannu by a cluster of rocks and boulders where soil and grass met sand. ‘Quick! Come here!’

When she reached them, all gathered in a circle, Daewynn bent at the hips and frowned. ‘What are they?’

‘Skulls!’ Shelley explained with a big smile at Daewynn. The older girl was what Daewynn imagined a big sister might be like. ‘My father, before he died, helped make people better. He had a lot of drawings and charts in his office. These are human skulls.’

Daewynn frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘Here,’ Shelley smiled, digging her fingers into the mix of soil and sand, pulling one of the strange white objects free. She held it up beside Lukin’s head. ‘That’s what’s inside us! See? Eyes go here. Mouth. Nose. Brain.’

Daewynn touched her nose, giving it a wiggle, then moved her fingers to feel what was beneath. ‘Huh,’ she said finally because what else was there to say?

‘Come help us!’ Lukin waved her over. Mannu was already fingers-deep in the work alongside them.

Daewynn lifted one hand and stared at the growing welt. ‘Maybe we should leave them?’ She took a step back, looking at the sea. The sun was nearly gone and dark clouds were coming in. A cold wind was pushing into her. ‘We don’t want to miss evening meal.’ 

She didn’t want any more welts. 

But they continued to dig. Daewynn looked back over the field of swaying silvergrass, imagined hiding in it. But no matter how small the orphans were, they were always found, or so she was told. The only way to leave the island was with a family. Daewynn pictured two people, tall and smiling, come to take her home. 

But that would never happen.

‘This one’s funny,’ Lukin held his up, running a finger along the large split at the top. 

‘They all are,’ Shelley replied, angling hers so they could see, ‘some are just smaller cracks. Probably how they died.’

Shelley was nearly fourteen and knew more than the rest of them. 

‘How?’ Mannu asked, observing her skull. 

‘Nothing good,’ Shelley murmured, placing hers down and digging out another. ‘Probably killed, every one of them. Look! How odd,’ she kept digging, counting as she went, ‘ten, eleven, twelve! I can’t see any more. And just their heads, that’s interesting.’

‘Why?’ Lukin asked.

‘Well,’ Shelley started lining up the skulls in order of the size of the crack in the bone, ‘when people die, they’re usually buried. All of them. Their whole bodies, in a coffin in a graveyard. But these people ...’ She lifted one of the skulls and pressed it to her cheek. Then she made a hard cutting motion against her neck, letting the skull fall to the ground, and waved to her body. ‘What about the rest of them? Something probably hit them hard right here. BAM! Killed. Murdered.’

‘M-murdered?’ Daewynn tested the word.

‘Yeah,’ she nodded, ‘just like what happened to your parents. They were murdered, right?’

Daewynn frowned as she remembered what she’d been told. ‘I ... think so.’

Mannu shrieked, toppling sideways into Lukin. Everyone looked down at the long, slimy tentacle slithering across the sand. Brown and purple, blackened welts as large as eyes spotted along its skin, thick as a grown man’s leg.

Shelley laughed, pulling them back. ‘Careful! Give it space.’

‘Wow,’ Lukin breathed, ‘I’ve never seen one up this far.’

Daewynn had never seen asterpox in the full before, but they were easy to glimpse from the tops of the cliffs, floating just beneath the surface of the water. A dark mass moving almost too quick to see, except for when they shot one of their tentacles high out of the water. 

Almost like they were waving at her. 

The detached tentacle curled around one of the skulls and began dragging it down the beach. They all jumped up and followed it as it made its way back to its heart, that’s what they called its large body, at least. 

Would the asterpox make a good family for her? She loved the water, and she was a strong swimmer for her age. She could live with them. Daewynn wished the asterpox would come out so she could ask it, but they were shy creatures. Just like her.

‘Huh,’ Shelley said, glancing back up the beach at the line of skulls.

‘What is it?’ Daewynn asked.

‘Well,’ Shelley began, turning to watch their discovery being pulled under, ‘Asterpoxes are drawn to the nether, which is why most of them live near that wellspring in the Sunken Sea, right?’ Daewynn, Lukin and Mannu all nodded. Daewynn wished Shelley was their teacher, not Tutor Kinnel. Besides, Shelley seemed to actually like teaching, unlike him. ‘Must mean these skulls have nether in them.’

‘So they were artificers before they died?’ Lukin asked.

‘Possibly,’ Shelley crossed her arms. The skull vanished beneath the water. ‘Or something was done to the skulls after death.’

Daewynn shivered. She didn’t want to think about murder. Not if that’s what happened to her parents. What if something just as horrible happened to their skulls? 

‘Come on, let’s go,’ Daewynn said.

They ran back up the beach as the last of the sun left them, fighting their way through the silvergrass, the hardest stalks slapping against their faces, causing them to giggle and cry out in shock. 

All through evening meal, Daewynn thought about the skulls. Did they really have nether in them? Flatley Island was one of the least magical places in all of Netherün. 

Any child suddenly orphaned on the mainland was brought here ... unless they were suspected artificers or sympaths. She didn’t know what happened to those children.

Class seemed more boring than usual the next day. Daewynn wished they would teach her about skulls and nether and asterpoxes, things that were actually interesting. But all Tutor Kinnel wanted to talk about was words. What they meant, how they were spelt, when to use them.

He was horrible. 

Kinnel would take them through the weekly news from the mainland, brought over by boat with their supplies, forcing each of them to read at least one pamphlet. While they read, Tutor Kinnel often sat on the windowsill, one leg over the other, cane stretched out across his lap. 

The paper rattled in Daewynn’s hands. '�"three men were taken to Lorwin Dungeon last Cinneth, where they will be in ... incar ...’

‘Incarcerated.’

‘Incarcerated,’ Daewynn repeated, ‘for a minimum of five years. They�""’

The door creaked open, and Miss Jaenkyns poked her head in. She looked after the babies. ‘Excuse me, Tutor Kinnel, but I need Lukin, Mannu and Daewynn please.’

Daewynn shot a look to Kinnel. For once she wanted nothing more than for him to tell her to stay where she was, to keep reading, but instead he said, ‘Go.’ 

Daewynn placed the paper on his desk and moved towards the door, head hung. Lukin and Mannu got up as she passed. They followed Miss Jaenkyns in silence up the winding stairwell, all the way to the top where Matron worked. Daewynn knew this path well.

They were herded into the room, where a tall and silent Shelley was already standing before Matron. The old woman’s skin was so crinkled, Daewynn thought it might crack and blow away in a stiff breeze. 

But her striking arm was as strong as ever. 

‘Line up,’ Matron instructed. They did so in silence, eyes cast low. ‘Explain yourselves.’

‘Please, Matron,’ Shelley said, ‘what have we done wrong?’

Matron heaved a breath out of her flaring nostrils. ‘You were all seen returning from the beach rather late last night. And then this morning, Miss Alenzar found these.’

Matron brought something into view, slamming it onto her desk. Hollow eyes stared across at them, sand dribbling out of the sockets and onto the fine harlow wood.

‘Do you have no respect for the dead?’ she hissed.

‘Please, Matron,’ Shelley begged, ‘they were not in the graveyard. We found them by accident! We were curious, is all.’

‘Curious?’ Matron lifted one invisible eyebrow. ‘You have been brought here by my kindness! This is not your home; this is my island. This house does not belong to you. That beach does not belong to you. The air you breathe does not belong to you. Nothing you can see or smell or taste or touch belongs to you. Do you understand?!’

‘Yes, Matron,’ they mumbled together.

She made a hacking sound and shook her head. Slowly, she lifted herself into standing. ‘You have no idea what you have done.’

‘Please, Matron,’ Daewynn begged, ‘they’re just skulls.’ 

‘One is missing,’ Matron seethed. ‘What did you do with it?’

Daewynn stared and her throat felt tight. If Matron thought they stole from her, they’d be caned. Again. 

‘We don’t have it!’ Daewynn replied, tears in her eyes. 

‘I don’t believe you. Tell me!’

‘The asterpox took it!’ Mannu cried.

‘It’s true,’ Shelley nodded, ‘took it right off the beach.’

Matron inhaled slow and deep. ‘Hands out. Now!’

Mannu whimpered, Lukin sobbed. Daewynn’s heart shrivelled in her chest. Not again. Not again! 

‘It was my fault,’ Shelley stepped forward. ‘I found the skulls, I dug them up. They didn’t even know what they were. I told them all about it.’

Matron lifted her chin, gaze fixed on Shelley. Daewynn stared at Matron’s clenched fists. Was Matron shaking? 

‘I see,’ Matron whispered. ‘Very well. The rest of you may go.’

Mannu and Lukin shot for the door.

Daewynn stared. ‘But�"’

‘Go,’ Shelley hissed. ‘Please, Daewynn, it’s alright.’

Miss Jaenkyns gave Daewynn a hard shove on the shoulder. She stumbled out of the room, door slamming behind her. Daewynn cringed, then looked back. Silence. But for how long? Any minute now, the cane would come down on�" 

‘Move,’ Miss Jaenkyns spat.

The classroom stared as they returned to their seats. Daewynn could barely feel her legs or face or hands. Her gaze drifted to the ceiling, wondering why Shelley did what she did. Protected them when they were all to blame for ... what? Digging up skulls? 

You have no idea what you have done.

*

Henly’s cart had one smaller wheel, but Daewynn loved the way it trundled up the path, as lopsided as the man who sat at the front. She lifted one arm high and waved. He waved back, his wonky smile as big as ever.

He was the nicest adult she knew. Large and round, with a kind face and soft cheeks, Henly was the best part of her week. Every few days he would deliver a fresh barrel of milk, most of which was consumed that evening. The rest was turned into cheeses and curds, which they fed to the orphans throughout the week.  

Henly pulled his cart to a stop and tapped the seat. She scooted up and plonked down beside him, beaming when he held out the tin to her. She fished out a biscuit. Cream-filled, her favourite. Henly then reached behind, handing her his waterskin. Though this one was always filled with the milk he brought on his deliveries.

‘Quality control,’ he’d said once, taking a deep swig. She wasn’t quite sure what he meant, but she’d laughed when milk dribbled out of his mouth and into his beard.

She took a sip now and nibbled on her biscuit. 

‘What’s happened here?’ Henly waved at her hand and frowned. 

‘I upset Matron,’ Daewynn replied. 

‘Now,’ Henly grumbled, fishing into his pocket. He whipped out a small piece of cloth. It was the most beautiful handkerchief she’d ever seen, blue with purple patterns. He wrapped it around her hand and tied it off, giving her hand a pat. ‘All better, no?’

She smiled up at him. Henly would make the best father. He was kind and always had biscuits. But she was too afraid to ask him. What if he said no and felt too awkward to ever come back? 

‘So,’ he groaned, hauling himself off the cart and into the mud below, ‘what story do you have for me this week? It’s your turn.’

Daewynn turned in the seat and watched him work, unloading the first tray of filled bottles. He waddled around the cart, keeping one eye on her as she considered. Henly’s family had lived on the island for generations, and his great-great-grandfather had built the library on the mainland. They were a family of storytellers; he knew just about everything that had happened in the region �" or at least on Flatley Island. 

‘I saw an asterpox on the beach!’

Henly lowered the tray. ‘Well, now, that’s something! A whole one?’

‘No, just one tentacle. It came up the beach, right next to me. I could have touched it, but I was too surprised.’

He made a face, wiping his hands as he moved around for another tray. ‘What was it doing, I suppose?’

‘My friends and I found,’ she looked around, ‘skulls on the beach. The asterpox took one.’

‘Skulls?’ he leaned in with the word. ‘How strange.’

‘It is strange!’ she declared. ‘My friend Shelley said that they were probably murdered.’

Henly fumbled with the barrel. It struck the ground hard but didn’t break. He sighed with relief, cursed low under his breath, then chuckled. ‘Now why would your friend Shelley say such a thing?’

‘They all had big splits right here,’ she drew a finger along the top of her head, ‘and it was only their heads, buried in the sand. No bodies.’

‘You don’t say,’ Henly remarked, picking up the empty barrel that had been left for him and bringing it round. He adjusted his apron and climbed back into the seat. ‘Murder. Hasn’t been a murder on this island since ... I can’t remember when.’ He frowned. ‘How many skulls did you say?’

‘Twelve.’

Henly made a sound and leaned back. He fished out a biscuit and chucked the whole thing in his mouth. ‘Do you know,’ he sprayed some over his lap, ‘that reminds me of a story I was told growing up. About The Missing of Moar, do you know it?’

Daewynn shook her head. Henly always asked her for stories, but his were always far better. Another reason he’d make the best father. He could tuck her up every night with a new story. 

She picked up another cookie and settled in.

‘Moar,’ he said in a low voice, drawing out the vowels, ‘was what this place used to be called before some buffoon renamed it Flatley Island. So boring! People used to actually live here, you know? Hundreds and hundreds of them, my mother’s family among them. Now, this was a time when night was far darker than it is now and for some reason the nether on this island was like an angry drunkard coming home each night with his fists filled with rage.’

Daewynn’s stomach flipped. ‘But I thought there was no nether here.’

‘Well,’ Henly waggled his brows, ‘not anymore. Of course, that is why we celebrate Lightgivers Eve every year, to commemorate the dark times our forebearers suffered through because of the nether. To give thanks for all the light days since it left.’ 

Daewynn nodded. She didn’t know much about the nether, but from all the stories she’d been told in the past on Lightgivers Eve, she was glad it was gone. 

Henly bit into another biscuit. ‘Word had spread to the mainland about Moar’s problems. People were scared, willing to pay anything for help. Three guesses who came to help?’

‘Artificers?’ 

‘That deserves another biscuit.’ He held them out and Daewynn fished one out with a smile. ‘Yes, Artificers came. A whole heap of them! Well, they tried everything, didn’t they? To stop the darkness, to soothe the nether. For weeks and weeks, but nothing worked.’

‘Until something did!’ Daewynn said.

He nodded. ‘Until something did. One young Artificer knew what the nether needed.’

‘What?’ Daewynn breathed, her chest about to explode.

Henly shrugged. ‘No one knows. To this day, it remains a mystery how the young man fixed Moar’s problems in a single night. But,’ his eyes darkened, but his lips quirked up, ‘the next morning, people were missing.’

Daewynn frowned. ‘How many people?’ 

‘Forty-eight!’

‘Where did they go?’ 

Henly lifted his arms. ‘Yet another mystery! Forty-eight people went missing in a single night and, at first, the people of Moar were in a state. “Surely,” they cried, “that meant the darkness was only getting worse. The nether took them, or perhaps it was the fault of the Artificers.” But the nights grew lighter almost immediately, and the nether seemed soothed finally. In fact, the nether has not been heard from since.’ He shrugged. ‘Here, at least.’

‘So, the missing people ...?’

‘Yes,’ Henly nodded, clasping his hands over his burgeoning stomach, ‘it is suspected they had something to do with this young Artificer’s miracle cure. That perhaps the nether required a sacrifice of some kind. But the people got what they wanted; they were happy. Soon the forty-eight that went missing were forgotten and time moved on, as it does. But no one ever knew for certain.’ 

He always sighed to signal the end of his story. Henly sat up and handed her one last biscuit before tucking the tin away and replacing the cork in the waterskin. Daewynn smiled and climbed down off his cart.

‘Good story, isn’t it?’ He quirked his brows. Daewynn nodded as he prepared to leave. He picked up the reins and his horse snapped to attention. ‘Who knows, perhaps your discovery has something to do with it. Maybe some of the Missing have found their way home.’

‘Mr Henly,’ she said, ‘if the missing people did have something to do with the nether going away ... and with what we found on the beach ... what would happen if something happened to one of the skulls?’

‘Happened to one?’ Henly considered, then shrugged. ‘From the stories my mother told me ... probably nothing good.’ He smiled. ‘See you next time, sweets!’

Daewynn’s head was filled with it all. The skulls, Henly’s story, Shelley’s sacrifice. She hadn’t seen her friend since yesterday. How was she meant to concentrate on anything else? Shelley studied with the older students and when Daewynn went to ask her teacher where the girl was, all she’d been told was that Shelley had been adopted.

But by who? Why didn’t she say goodbye? When did she leave? What about Matron and the cane and the skulls? 

The teacher lifted her cane in reply and Daewynn scurried away. Children didn’t just disappear. Shelley would have said goodbye, Daewynn was certain. Which meant Shelley never left.

But then what happened to her?

*

Three days later, something caused a stir among the children. A man arrived at the orphanage.

‘An artificer!’ Lukin whispered, watching the man saunter past, Lukin’s wide little eyes as wide as she’d ever seen them.

She shot him a look. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Look at his wrist,’ Lukin said. Daewynn spotted some kind of tattoo, long and curling, but she couldn’t quite make it out. ‘He’s one of them.’

‘But what is he doing here?’ Mannu mumbled.

‘Inside!’ Tutor Kinnel snapped, sweeping one long arm in the direction of his classroom. 

Lukin groaned. ‘Nothing fun ever happens here. Now it finally does, and we have class.’

Daewynn stared after the darkly dressed man as he made his way up the flight of stairs. Had Matron invited him here? 

Was Henly’s story true and now they were all at risk of being attacked by the nether? 

Was this artificer here to help them or ...

The next morning, people were missing.

‘Daewynn!’ Tutor Kinnel nearly screeched. He slapped the doorframe. ‘Inside. Now.’

Her heart pounded and she looked for his cane. No sign of it. Yet. ‘But Tutor Kinnel, that man was �"’

‘Now!’ A proper screech this time.

Daewynn scurried inside, fear of the cane far stronger than her burning curiosity. The class passed painfully slow; Kinnel’s voice forty-eight times worse than it normally was. Daewynn fidgeted the entire time, leg bouncing and bouncing. She glanced at the window every few seconds, hoping to catch the sight of the Artificer’s back as he left the orphanage.

When class was finished, Daewynn was the first from the room. 

‘Where are you going?’ Lukin called after her as she surged up the stairs. ‘Lunchroom is that way!’

‘Be right back!’ she whispered in return, stopping only briefly to make sure no one with a cane was watching. In the clear, she hurried up the winding flight until she reached Matron’s door.

Closed, Daewynn leaned her ear against the wood as gently as possible, holding back her breath to listen.

‘�" to be sure,’ a deep voice rumbled. The Artificer. 

‘How long do we have?’ Matron asked. Daewynn frowned. Matron almost sounded afraid. 

The man scoffed. ‘You island folk have always been far too superstitious. There’s no evidence that the nether had anything to �"’

‘Do you want to get paid or not, Balkin?’ Matron snapped, sounding more like herself. ‘Hurry it up before I change my mind and call for your competition. The Division’s reputation is growing �"’

‘Fine,’ the Artificer snapped. ‘She’s a good start, but I’ll need eleven more.’

‘You’ll have them, by �"’

But there were footsteps from inside the room, growing louder. Coming straight at her! Daewynn scrambled from the door and bolted down the steps as fast as she dared. She heard the door open, and their voices were fading, but Daewynn was sure they’d seen her.

She reached the bottom of the stairwell, out of breath, and stared up at the winding stairs. Nothing. They mustn’t have seen her then. She rubbed at her face, recalling their conversation. 

She’s a good start, but I’ll need eleven more.

They couldn’t possibly ... but there had been twelve skulls in the sand. Daewynn slowed as she reached the dining hall. Did they need twelve new skulls for something? 

Daewynn staggered over to where Lukin and Mannu sat, plonking down beside them. Lukin looked up, asparagus sticking out of his mouth. ‘Yunawansem?’ he asked.

‘Not hungry,’ Daewynn replied, staring at the table. 

‘What’s wrong?’ Mannu asked, sipping at her milk. Daewynn eyed the white liquid, thinking about Henly, wishing he were here. If he knew about the story, maybe he knew more. 

Years ago, an Artificer makes the bad nether energy leave this place but only after people go missing? 

 ... ten, eleven, twelve! I can’t see any more. And just their heads, that’s interesting.

‘I don’t think Shelley was adopted,’ Daewynn said. Both Lukin and Mannu looked at their plates. None of them had seen her since Matron’s office. She protected them from the cane, but what if something worse had happened to her?  

She’s a good start, but I’ll need eleven more.

Daewynn slammed her eyes shut. No, that wasn’t possible. They weren’t going to replace the skulls with twelve new ones. Bad things happened here, but nothing like that. Bad things only happened in Lightgivers Eve stories. This was real life.

Nothing like that really happened. 

They were just stories. 

But by evening meal, Shelley wasn’t the only one missing.

‘Have you seen Mya?’ one of the little girls from another sleeping hall asked. They all looked up, shaking their heads. ‘Everyone thinks she’s runaway but ...’

Daewynn refused to eat again, going to bed hungry, desperate to know more. If this man, this Artificer, was here to take people, she had to tell someone.  

But who? 

None of their teachers could be trusted. Besides, they wouldn’t believe her. She had no evidence, just an old story told to her by�" 

Henly. He would listen! He would send for the main land authorities and tell them that children were going missing at the orphanage!

But it was only Monneth and Henly wouldn’t be back until Midneth. Did she even have two days to wait? 

Daewynn closed her eyes and breathed through her nose. There was time. It was her only option and Henly would not laugh in her face. Wouldn’t smack a cane across her flesh. Wouldn’t call her a stupid child and shove her away.

Midneth morning, she’d make this mistake of theirs right.

But the next day, Lukin wasn’t at breakfast. Daewynn dared not whisper her theory to Mannu and scare the poor girl. Daewynn was scared enough for both of them. She sat through lessons and worked through her chores hating each moment. 

Midneth morning came slower than the night dragged. Daewynn didn’t sleep a wink, staring at the ceiling and picturing the way those skulls had been split. Some so bad they were almost torn in two.

Daewynn flung herself out of bed and dressed for the day. Mannu called after her when she turned right instead of left out of their sleeping hall. What did food matter when Henly would be here any moment?

She ran for the door and heard it �" the distinct sound of cartwheels turning in the mud. Daewynn skidded to a halt, wrenched open the door and hurried down the steps. 

She froze, staring.

A middle-aged man and woman looked up from their seat, the man pulling the horse to a slow stop. ‘Woah,’ he called, reining the beast in. They both smiled at her, just like the couple she always pictured in her mind. Come to take her home.

Daewynn bit down on her lip. How could she forget? Today was Choosing Day, it happened only once a month and Daewynn grew used to ignoring it, since nobody ever chose her. People would be arriving all day and she’d be forced inside to linger with the other children on the tiny chance someone noticed her.

But Henly �" he�" 

‘Daewynn!’ Miss Jaenkyns squawked behind her. Daewynn jumped and spun to see the skinny woman pointing back towards the manor. ‘Get back inside this instant!’

‘But Henly will be �"’

‘Inside,’ she spat, ‘now!’

Daewynn wanted to throw something at Miss Jaenkyns but that would only displease Matron. Daewynn made fists, feeling the pull of the healing flesh, and made her way inside.

The hallways were busy with children running back and forth to their sleeping halls to retrieve the things they’d forgotten. Change into a better shirt, not that they had such things. Check themselves in the mirror. It was always the same, a busy, panicked mess ...

Until the doors opened. 

Daewynn made her way into the main dining hall, which had been cleared as usual. Tables and chairs pushed to the side, a small banquet at the back. She found Mannu and stood with her head cast low but her ears alert.

If Henly arrived, she had to find a way to see him. 

There were six families today, most of them looking poor enough to belong to an orphanage themselves. Most of them headed straight for the nursery.

Daewynn sighed and sunk against the wall, casting a look out the window. She leaned as far back as she could, nudged it open and leaned out, trying to see the main road in�" 

‘Daewynn!’ 

She sprung forward, scrambling upright. Matron stood close; her arms folded in front. ‘Come here,’ Matron said darkly. 

Daewynn took three steps forward. Would she take her too? Split open her skull and bury it in the sand? 

Then Matron did something she’d never seen before. She smiled. Or tried to, at the very least. ‘This is Mr and Mrs Mackersleigh,’ Matron stepped aside. The couple she’d just seen arrive were standing behind her, shoulders touching. ‘They’ve come all the way from the mainland just to meet you.’

‘Me?’ Daewynn gawked. ‘Why?’

‘Why,’ Matron chuckled, an unholy sound, ‘because they want to adopt you.’

Daewynn blinked, gaze drifting to the couple. The man smiled. ‘How old are you, dear?’

But she couldn’t remember. Not until Matron shot her a look. ‘I’m nearly nine.’

‘Do you like to garden?’ Mrs Mackersleigh asked. ‘Cook? Weave?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Daewynn replied, ‘but I’m sure I would.’

‘Any injuries we should know about?’ Mr Mackersleigh asked. ‘Illnesses?’ 

Daewynn shook her head. But this couldn’t be real, surely? Maybe she was still dreaming. Any minute she would wake up and hear Henly outside. She’d go to him and�"

Henly! But her friends! Matron was taking them and burying their skulls. 

The couple smiled up at Matron. ‘She’s just as you described her,’ Mrs Mackersleigh remarked. ‘Could she come with us today?’

‘Of course,’ Matron cooed, ‘if you’ve brought the money?’

Mr Mackersleigh fished a purse out of his front vest pocket and handed it over. Matron poked around it in and closed it with a smile. ‘Wonderful.’ She spun on Daewynn. ‘Well, sweet girl, it looks like today is your happy day! Go pack your things, you’ll leave right away.’

‘But ... ’ Daewynn glanced out the window.

‘But, what?’ Matron said coldly. ‘Don’t be rude to your new family, Daewynn. You don’t want to displease them, do you?’

Daewynn stilled. There was that word again. “Displease”. Still, one word was louder. Family. Her new family. Four years in the orphanage and she’d never once been chosen. It was what every child here wanted. To escape. To belong to someone. 

But these people weren’t just in her head, like all the other times. They were real, had to be, if Matron was talking to them. Which meant she wasn’t dreaming. These people wanted her to be part of their family.

But ...

‘Where is Lukin?’ Daewynn whispered.

Matron’s brows shot up. ‘Your little friend was adopted earlier this week. Don’t you remember?’

Daewynn gaped. A lie! No one had come to adopt. 

‘No,’ she replied.

Matron chuckled and gazed up at the couple. ‘It’s been such a busy week here. The children are all in a bit of shock, I think! We’ve had eight adoptions this week already. A record for us.’

Daewynn frowned. Were there really eight children missing already? 

‘How wonderful,’ the woman replied with a beaming smile. ‘Soon to be nine, I hope?’

Daewynn eyed the couple. They wanted her. They chose her. This might be her only chance. If she stayed to speak with Henly, if she told him what was happening, and he went to get the authorities ... she’d have to speak with them. She’d be taken to the mainland and held for questioning. She knew that much.

The couple would not wait for her. They wouldn’t want her. They would take one of the other children who wasn’t involved, one who hadn’t displeased them, or Matron, or the authorities. One who wasn’t a troublemaker. 

Would the orphanage even remain open once Henly told everyone what was going on here? What would happen to the children then? 

Maybe it was already too late. Eight children were already missing. Perhaps the Artificer had already done what he came here to do.

Soon the forty-eight that went missing were forgotten and time moved on, as it does.

A whinny skittered in through the open window. The distinct sound of wheels on dirt. Daewynn glanced out into the yard, heart fluttering. Henly’s cart wobbled into view; he was whistling. Here. Her chance. Run out and tell him what was happening, beg for his help to stop Matron and the Artificer from taking any more of her friends.

‘Daewynn?’ Mrs Mackersleigh leaned down to see her face. ‘Our neighbours have three young children about your age, and several horses. I’m sure they’d be happy to teach you how to ride one.’

‘Already set your bedroom up,’ Mr Mackersleigh added, ‘with a few new toys for you to play with, course. Would you like to come home with us?’

A family of her own. Her own bedroom. Toys and horses and friends ...

Henly cut off his whistling. Daewynn gazed out the window again, staring at her friend as he lowered himself from the cart and looked around. Waiting for her? She should be perched on his seat with a cookie and a story right about now.

Only ... 

Daewynn closed her mouth and looked up into the eyes of her new family. It was either stay or go. Stay and help her friends or go with her new family and start the life she deserved. 

Daewynn took a deep breath and nodded. ‘I would like that very much.’