Njinga crawled across the floor and sat down next the weeping girl. She placed a comforting arm around Paola’s shoulders, and with her free hand gently stroked the teen’s hair as she bawled and shook.
‘Look kid,’ she began softly, ‘I’ve been alive a long time, a very long time, an’ believe me, I’ve seen a lot of tragedies, an’ I’ve been through my fair share too. An’ before you say it, no, life ain’t fair. It ain’t fair at all. I’ve seen awful things happen to the best people; I’ve seen people as kind an’ generous as angels die horrible deaths after havin’ everything in their lives taken from ‘em, an’ I’ve seen terrible people, psychotic monsters who’ve sown death an’ destruction across the land, live to a ripe ol’ age an’ die peacefully in their beds. An’ what’s happened to you, to all a’ you, it ain’t fair. Y’all seem to be genuinely good kids, with kind hearts an’ a real desire to do the right thing. None of y’all deserve this; hell, not one a’ you deserve even a fraction a’ the tragedy that’s been visited on your heads. But the fact is it’s happened, an’ none a’ you can change that. Y’all just found yourselves in the wrong place at the wrong time, an’ because a’ that tragic accident y’all fell foul a’ the Huntsmen. An’ when you’ve made an enemy like that … well, I ain’t gonna candy coat it: they won’t stop comin’ for you until you’re dead. I know that this is terrifying, that this is overwhelming, an’ that you likely feel that you can’t handle it … but you can.’ She paused here and ceased stroking Paola’s hair, and instead reached down and gripped the girl’s hand, squeezing it tight. ‘You’re stronger than you know, girl,’ she hissed, staring intently at Paola, her blazing eyes driving twin beams of focused energy into the child’s teary orbs. ‘Stronger than you could ever imagine. You just need to reach deep inside yourself an’ find that strength. It’s in there, I can see it, I can feel it … I know you can get through this. I’ve seen things you kids couldn’t imagine, couldn’t possibly believe. I’ve seen the biggest, fiercest warriors break down an’ piss themselves in the face of the slightest danger, an’ I’ve seen the smallest, quietest woman survive the hell of a slave ship voyage across the Atlantic, an’ come out stronger on the other side after having lost every single thing in her life that was precious to her.
At moments when life yanks the rug out from under our feet, we can’t control what happens to us. We can control how we react to what’s happened, though. Remember, kid, there’s one thing that nobody can ever take from you, not unless you give it away yourself: your will to live, your desire to go on. The one freedom you’ll always have is the choice to either give up or go on. An’ all these years, these hundreds a’ years I’ve been alive, my choice has always been that: to go on, no matter what. So you can sit here an’ cry – which is okay for a while, because you have a loss to mourn – but once that period a’ grievin’ is over, you have a choice to make.’ At this point Njinga stood up and slammed the pistol back into its holster on her upper thigh before continuing. ‘An’ that goes for all a’ y’all,’ she said gruffly, looking at each of the teenagers in turn. ‘Take some time to grieve what you just lost … but don’t spend too much time lookin’ over your shoulders at the past. It’s gone now, that train has left the station an’ it ain’t never comin’ back. The next train is on its way, an’ you don’t wanna miss it.’ She walked over to the corner of the van in which Zakaria was sprawled out, still unconscious in his gorilla form, and she lay down next to him. ‘It’s gonna be a long night,’ she said as she curled up. ‘I suggest that y’all try get some rest.’
She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, leaving the teenagers to sit in uncomfortable silence, brooding over an uncertain and terrifying future.
PART SIX
22
WILLIAM
August 1853. A field near the MacTaggart Estate, Aberdeenshire, Scotland
‘Come on Mikey! One more time!’ Paul cried with a laugh. ‘I’m sure we’ll get it this time around!’
In his looks there remained a faint echo of the boy Paul had once been, but like the rest of his friends he had undergone substantial physical changes over the last few years. He and his identical twin Andrew now stood close to six foot in height, and although their legs remained somewhat disproportionate in strength and bulk to their upper bodies, their torsos and arms had filled out with lean, lithe muscle. While their features had looked rather pinched and severe as boys, both men’s faces had lost some of the angularity of their visages, and each now looked if not handsome, then at least not as stern. It was almost as if they had, perversely, aged in reverse; they had looked almost like old widowers as boys, but now it was as if a master sculptor had come along and smoothed out those sharp features, carved too hastily by an apprentice, and given their faces the boyishness they had always lacked.
Another oddity was that each twin seemed to have swapped a few habits with the other; Andrew’s formerly immaculate hair was now a shaggy, unkempt mop, while Paul, formerly the messy brother, spent a fair while in front of a mirror every day, making sure his long, pointy jaw was spotlessly shaven, and that not one hair on his head was out of place. Andrew, on the other hand, had
