The next morning, Jacob and I crossed over to see a grand total of no one waiting for us. Neither of us was surprised, though, as we both knew the way back to the house by heart now. Well, I did. With all the time Jake and Emma spent together, I'd be surprised if he even recognized the forest around us.
We made it to the house in just a short amount of time, and almost immediately, Jacob began searching anxiously for someone - Emma, no doubt. However, before he could wander too far off, Miss Peregrine approached us.
"I must speak with you two." Of course, we went with her. She led us to the kitchen, empty of children yet still overwhelmingly full of the smell of their breakfast. Miss Peregrine leaned herself against the counter before she began speaking. "Are you two enjoying yourselves here?"
"Of course. This place is... amazing," I replied, hoping the response would be satisfactory.
"Very good," Miss Peregrine said, then adjusted her glasses before she spoke once more. "I'm aware that you and some of my wards had quite the fun day yesterday at the beach. And many lovely conversations, of course."
Jacob was the one to answer this time. "Oh, yeah. They're all real great." I nodded in agreement, though I could tell by the look in Miss Peregrine's eyes that she wasn't quite as happy.
"Is that so? Well, what sort of topics did you speak about?" I swallowed, nervous about what she was getting at with all these questions. Our conversations yesterday with the kids were still fresh in my mind, so I replied when Jacob stayed quiet.
"Well, we talked about tons of stuff. Things here, things on our side of the loop, our favorite foods, that sort of stuff."
"On your side?" Miss Peregrine echoed the words like it was a question, even though Jake and I both knew she knew perfectly well what we meant. Nonetheless, Jake and I both nodded. "Do you think it's wise to speak of such futuristic things with these children?"
"You really think of them as children?" Jacob blurted out, and we both instantly realized it was the wrong thing to say.
I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to shrink under Miss Peregrine's hard glare. "They regard themselves as children, as well, Mr. Portman," she said, her voice lowering a bit. "Do they look like anything other than that?"
"Well, no," Jake replied, looking away from her eyes. I shook my head 'no' as well, showing that I agreed with him.
"Precisely. Now, back to the original topic. Do you two think that it's wise to tell children of the past about the future?" Jake and I both shook our heads, replying with weak 'no's before Miss Peregrine continued speaking. "Well, it seems you do. Of course, I only know this because my wards are incredibly excited for it. Just last night at dinner, Hugh gave us a wonderful explanation of the twenty-first century's telecommunications technology."
I took a cautious step forward. "Is that really such a bad thing, though? I thought you were all for them learning new stuff?" She stepped toward me, leading me to step back once more, and spoke.
"It most definitely is, Miss Sanders. As an ymbryne, it is my duty to keep these children safe, right here, right now. They can never be part of your world, so why would you tell them of such things if they will never be allowed to experience them?""We're sorry, really. We didn't know," Jake replied, his voice raising in pitch a little./p
"We're sorry, really. We didn't know," Jake replied, his voice raising in pitch a little.
"I'm certain you are, but you mustn't tell them anything else. They must stay in this loop, and I'd very much appreciate it if you would keep it that way."
I nodded, though Jacob spoke once more. "Well, why?"
"Excuse me?" Miss Peregrine was surprised by his question. In all honesty, I was, too.
"Why can't they leave?" Miss Peregrine looked about ready to slap him, but I must admit, I was wondering the same thing.
"Your ignorance does not become you, Mr. Portman." Then, instead of answering, she turned and began washing a pan. I was just about ready to leave when she turned around and finally began speaking again. "They cannot stay in your world for too long, or they will - in the simplest terms - grow old and die."
I could have sworn, my mouth made a perfect 'o'. "Like, death? They won't be able to just - go back once they reenter the loop?" Miss Peregrine looked quite fed up at this point, but she answered my question regardless.
"They'll die. There is no way to reverse that." I could tell she wanted to change the topic, and in all honestly, I wanted to, as well. "I understand that it may seem that we've found a way to cheat death, but we haven't. If the children stay on your side of the loop for too long, their years will catch up to them and they'll begin aging in a matter of minutes. Within an hour or so, they'll be dust."
My heart broke. Well, it felt like it broke. "That's horrible," I murmured. Jacob shuddered.
"Indeed, it is. Some of my worst memories include these instances, you know. And I assure you both, I've been around long enough to see some terribly gruesome things. Years ago - 1985 or '86, I believe - one of my old wards, Charlotte, managed to wander out of the loop without any of the older children noticing. I was only gone to visit one of my sister ymbrynes for a day, so I never imagined anything happening. The constable found her wandering through town, and when he disliked her answers to his questions, she was sent off to a child welfare agency in London. In the two days it took for me to find her, she'd aged thirty-five years." My sad mood darkened at Miss Peregrine's story.
"What happened then?" Jacob asked, hoping as I was that there would be a happy ending.
"She's off living with Miss Nightjar now. She and Miss Thrush take all the hard cases."
Jacob and I were both silent for a few moments, taking in all the new information we'd been given. It was beginning to get too much, really. This heaven wasn't so heavenly, it seemed. "Well, they could still leave the island within the loop, right? Would they begin aging again if they just... left the house?" I asked. Miss Peregrine frowned.
"I suppose they would, but it would hardly be the best choice. The war is still going on, and I don't even want to mention how people may react to their abilities, even if some are more obscure than others. Besides, there are other dangers out there. It is best for them to stay right here," Miss Peregrine said, though it sounded like she was only just deciding it for herself, rather than informing Jake and me about the matter.
"Wait, what other dangers?" Jacob asked, hardly missing a beat. To be frank, I was wondering the same thing, and Miss Peregrine's response was far less than satisfactory.
"Oh, it's nothing for you two to worry about. Not at the moment, anyway." The look on her face as she spoke troubled me, but though I ached to pry deeper into the subject, I remained silent. "Now, go on," she continued, "it's beautiful out this morning. Miss Bloom and Mr. Nullings are sure to waiting for you two."
I rolled my eyes at her words and followed Jake outside. I decided I'd follow him around until he found Emma, then I'd go off and explore for myself and meet the other kids. Emma was, however, out on a supply run to the village, so Jake decided to lay down under a shady tree and wait. Annoyed at his 'love-stuck-puppy' behavior, I headed off on my own.
It didn't take me too long to find myself another person to speak with. Fiona was out, tending to her garden, though it hardly needed it. She wasn't much of a conversationalist, though, only nodding or saying a few thickly-accented words. I left once Hugh came by and gave me a look that said they'd want to be alone. I didn't pry.
I wandered off again and found my way into a game of catch with Claire and Olive, who were more than happy to get my mind off the harrowing conversation I'd had with Miss Peregrine. They didn't even know they were helping, but I suppose if they knew about the conversation, they wouldn't know what to do. Nonetheless, they were having lots of fun, and so was I.
We'd been tossing the ball around for about half an hour when something tapped my shoulder. I let out a yelp before I turned around, only to see a buck-naked Millard. "Y'know, you could at least put some clothes on before you sneak up on me like that," I said with a heavy sigh, sending the girls into giggles behind me.
"Right, sorry. Once that's done, though, I would very much like to have a chat with you," Millard replied, and Olive and Claire only giggled harder. I rolled my eyes at their childish behavior - well, they were children - and nodded.
"Fine. I'll be inside in a few minutes, then." Millard smiled and headed back toward the house. I turned to face the girls who were looking up as me with giddy smiles.
"We think Millard likes you!" Claire blurted out.
Olive nodded vigorously before putting in her own two cents. "He always talks about things you said and did and how intri- intreeg- ... how interesting you are!" I rolled my eyes again, disregarding their words.
"Don't be silly. We've hardly known each other for three days. How could he like me in such a short time?" Claire and Olive both shrugged, and I turned back to look at where I'd last seen the topic of our conversation. "Besides, he hardly seems like the type to have any romantic interest in someone. He seems more like he'd be in love with his book."
Olive and Claire looked at each other, then me again. "Well, we still think he likes you. Now go, you've got a date!" Olive exclaimed excitedly.
"Oh, please, it's not a date. We're friends. We talk. It's no big deal." The girls just smiled and began tossing the ball between themselves again, so I decided it'd be best for me to head inside to meet with Millard.
It was preposterous, the idea that he liked me. I mean, it was definitely too soon to say anything. But how long had the girls been waiting for something new and exciting to tease people about? I know what sort of person I was like at their age, and if one of my friends even so much as looked at a guy, I'd tease her along with our other friends. Of course, after my dad got remarried I knew not to assume anyone's sexualities anymore, but I was young and looking for fun. I supposed this was no different. I'd let Claire and Olive have their fun, for now, at least. As soon as things got awkward, I'd put an end to it.
I had only just stepped into the house when Millard, fully clothed, appeared at the top of the stairs. "Perfect timing," I commented, a breathy laugh escaping my lips.
"Indeed," Millard replied, descending the steps towards me. "Join me in the living room?" Well, I didn't see why not.
"Sure," I replied casually, then followed him as we made our way to the living room we sat in the previous day before we all went swimming. "So, what did you want to talk about?" I asked as I settled into a velvety chair.
"I recall you mentioning something about seeing Miss Peregrine's photo album, is that correct?" Millard asked, reaching under one of the cushions on the loveseat. Confused, I nodded, affirming his words. "Well, this morning I managed to swipe this from her study while she was still asleep." As he spoke, he removed his hand from the cushion, revealing the photo album in all its mysterious glory.
I leaped up from my seat at the sight of it and walked forward until I could touch it for myself. "Oh, my god! Isn't she going to, like, kill you if she finds out?"
"Well, I should hope not. I intend on returning it as soon as possible. She doesn't look at it too often, I believe." I took it from him, still in shock that he took it. It was nothing special on the outside, but I knew that on the inside it was filled with pictures that would be impossible to explain to a normal person. I sat down on the love seat and opened the book tentatively, careful not to crinkle any of the pages or photos. I barely noticed when Millard sat next to me.
We sat there, looking through the pictures quietly unless I had a question or Millard had a particularly interesting story about one of them. Most were of the children and other middle-aged ladies - ymbrynes, I supposed - but one in particular caught my eye.
"Is that Charlotte?" I asked, pointing to a picture of three women - well, two women and a little girl with a woman's face. Millard happy smile vanished as he looked at me, his brown eyes glinting with worry.
"You know about Charlotte?" he asked, and I nearly smacked myself. Of course, it was probably a sensitive subject.
"Yeah," I replied, almost in a whisper. "Miss Peregrine told Jake and me about her this morning. Right after lecturing us about talking about the future with you guys." Millard only nodded, and we both searched for words to say. I finally settled on a simple 'it's horrible what happened to her', and he replied with an equally simple 'it couldn't be helped'.
We continued looking through the pictures in silence - our previously happy mood dampened by the gravity of Charlotte's story - until I closed the book. The silence continued, growing more and more awkward until an idea came to mind. "Do you guys have a piano here?"
Millard looked up. "Well, yes, but nobody's played it in years." I stood, tucking the photo album under my arm.
"That shouldn't be much a problem, though. If the loop is as effective as it seems to be, it should still be in tune, right?" Millard thought for a moment, then nodded and rose as well.
"Come along, then." At his words, we made our way out of the living room until we found ourselves in a small room. All it fit was a piano, a bench, and a few small tables littered with books and vases of flowers. "I suppose you want to play? I've no skill at all, but Miss Peregrine was teaching Emma and Fiona for a while," Millard said as I sat on the bench. I didn't respond - instead, I rested my fingers on the ivory keys and tested a few. It was, as I expected, perfectly tuned.
So I began playing. Millard stood silently while I played a shitty rendition of the first movement of Moonlight Sonata - or, at least, what I could remember of it. When I finished, Millard clapped, though I really expected no less from him. "You don't have to do that, you know," I said, removing my hands from the piano keys and placing them onto the bench, putting my weight on them and slouching in the process.
"You were great, Kallie, really. I had no idea you could play like that," he replied, and I couldn't help but laugh a little as I stood up, swiping a piece of my cherry red hair out of my eyes.
"Of course you wouldn't, I never told you I could play. But I know what you mean - I don't look like the sort of person who would play the piano." Millard gave me a small half smile as he replied.
"You don't like the person who would do plenty of things. Like cursing, for instance. Tell me, what else can you do that one might not expect at first glance?"
I thought for a moment, but all that came to mind was hardly impressive. "I can tie a cherry stem with my tongue. And I'm really good at art - painting, especially." Millard's eyes brightened at the last part of what I said.
"Can you?" he asked. Not wanting to repeat myself aloud, I nodded. "Could you..." he trailed off, suddenly nervous. "Could you paint me?"
The request startled me. What an odd thing to ask, really. I mean surely he could...
"You can't even see yourself?" I asked, my eyes widening.
"Not since I was six years old," Millard replied, and I could almost feel my heart sink.
I gave him a sad smile and looked at the clock in the room. It was nearly time for lunch. "Well, I can't right now, seeing as it's almost lunch and I don't have the right provisions. But I'd be glad to, Millard." His smile grew at my words, and he looked like a kid running down the stairs on Christmas day.
"Thank you so much, Kallie. That would be amazing. You can do it after lunch! I know where the Headmistress keeps the painting supplies. If I tell her what we're doing I'm sure she'd be more than happy to let you use them." Just as he finished speaking, Bronwyn's voice boomed through the house, letting everyone know it was time for lunch. Noon, on the dot. That house was run tighter than a ship.
We were all nearing the end of our lunch consisting of various finger sandwiches and fruits when Millard said something that sent all eyes onto me. "Oh, did I mention," he began nonchalantly, "that Kallie has offered to paint my portrait after we've finished eating?"
Right then, I wished that I was the invisible one. The sudden attention was too much, and I found myself sending Millard a harsh glare. "Is this true, Miss Sanders?" Miss Peregrine asked me, a small smile on her face. All it took to send the children into an excited frenzy was my nod. I supposed they were all wondering what Millard looked like. It was completely understandable, but I wished they wouldn't make such a ruckus out of it.
"I can't wait to see what he looks like!"
"When will you be done the painting?"
"I'll laugh if he looks like a girl." Enoch's comment sent everyone into small fits of laughter. I looked at Millard and shook my head, unimpressed by Enoch's words, but still letting him know that he didn't.
Before long, Millard was wearing his favorite outfit and sat in his favorite chair in the library and I had a canvas set up in front of me with a few tubes of paint. I didn't mind that there were so few - I could always mix the paints, and I didn't need giant gobs of the stuff to do so. Once Millard was comfortable, I began the painting.
I was nervous to begin, of course, as many young artists are. What scared me most was the pressure - and the hope that Millard wouldn't tire. Good portraits took time, but he said he would be fine sitting still for hours if it meant every detail would be perfect.
Soon, I was absorbed in my work. I was sure to pay extra attention to his actual features, rather than his clothes or the background, which the children must have seen at least a thousand times. I had to make the perfect browns for his eyes and darker yellows for his hair. The gentle waves in it were nearly infuriating to paint, but when I had finished, they seemed almost photo-realistic as they framed his still-drying face. His skin tone was quite tan, which I hadn't really noticed before. I supposed that even though he was invisible, the sun's rays still affected his skin, and after spending so long outside, studying everything, it would take its toll on him.
After about four hours, I had finished and was adding a few extra touches of red to the books in the background. When I finally stepped away from the canvas a bit, I took in the painting as a whole, rather than looking at each individual part like I usually did when I painted. A smile came to my face - he looked like he could be a sort of wiry football player, the sort of guy cheerleaders would swoon over. A light blush rose on my cheeks. I refused to notice it before - probably because he was naked half the time I'd known him - but he really was quite attractive.
"I've finished, you can move now," I told him, my eyes never leaving the canvas. It was the sort of thing where you think something looks so good that you're surprised that you were the one who made it. Millard rose from his chair and made his way to my side. I heard his breath catch in his throat, and I finally looked up at him to see him stroking his own face tentatively.
"I... Is that me?" he asked in a whisper, and I wasn't sure, but I could have sworn I saw his eyes grow watery.
"Yeah," I replied just as quietly, as if there was something in the room that wouldn't allow our voices to raise past a whisper. I backed up a bit to let Millard stand fully in front of the canvas and take the whole thing in. It was amazing to watch, really. To me, he was - in the nicest way - nothing special. I could see him every time I looked at him, but he hadn't seen himself in, well, nearly forever. Nobody had.
Finally, after a few quiet moments - the only sound being the ticking clock - Millard turned and engulfed me in his embrace. I was startled at first but soon wrapped my arms around his torso, returning the sudden hug. "Thank you," he whispered into my hair, which was sort of uncomfortable, but he stepped back before I could get used to it. "It's amazing, really." He wiped at his eyes, trying to rid himself of the tears forming in his eyes. "You're amazing."
I couldn't help but blush - no one had been so forward in saying that to me before, well, aside from my dad and James. "Thanks, I guess," I replied. We both stared at the painting in silence for another moment before he spoke once more.
"We should get the others. They'll want to see it, too." I nodded, and we headed off to fetch the other children and Miss Peregrine. It didn't take too long, of course. Everyone was outside enjoying the warm, late summer afternoon. As soon as Millard and I came into view, everyone stood. In next to no time, they had all found their way to the library, where my canvas was still drying.
Various gasps and murmurs of delight sounded around the room at the sight of the painting, followed by much praise for myself and many compliments to Millard. Miss Peregrine decided she would hang it in the entrance in the morning when all the paint was dry. I was sure there would be smart comments from the children for the next few days - maybe weeks. 'Your hair looks rather dashing today, Mill!' or 'my, your eyes are particularly dazzling today, Millard'. Already I was smiling at the thought.
As we were all filing out of the library, Millard turned to me once more. "Is there anything you can't do?" he asked, a small smile on his face. I grinned back.
"Yeah, I can't sing for shit."
I was nervous: understatement of the century. It was midnight and there I was, sneaking down the stairs of the Priest Hole, slipping silently through the door, making my way through the town, hiding in the shadows of the trees, crawling through the cairn, walking toward the harbor with Millard. When he had asked me after dinner to sneak out to speak with him by the harbor, I was more than a little confused. He hardly seemed like the type of person who would partake in such actions, but the fervorous tone in his voice was enough to get me to agree.
We made our way silently through the town, sneaking through alleys and backways until we had left it behind. As soon as I was sure the village was behind us, I finally spoke up. "Thanks for putting on some clothes. I know how inconvenient it can be sometimes."
"It's no problem." While Millard's response was meant to brush off my comment, I still supposed it was a problem. I mean, what use was being invisible if you had to wear clothes for just one person? We carried on in silence until we reached the spot where we had all gone swimming.
"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" I asked, sitting in the sand. It was chilly outside, despite the fact that it was late summer and it was hot all day. I regretted only wearing shorts and a sweatshirt, my bathing suit underneath - just in case we went swimming, for some fucking reason. Millard sat down next to me - in a much more sensible pair of pants and a dark green sweater.
"There's... er... something you should know," he started, growing a bit nervous. "This place... it isn't quite the wonderland you may think it is."
Well, that was a completely different turn than I was expecting. "What do you mean? If you're talking about the aging thing when you leave the loop, you know I already know that. We talked about Charlotte earlier, remember?" I pointed out, becoming both confused and worried about what he would say next.
"No, I know, and it's not. There's, um... I'm not quite sure how to put this, Kallie, but we - all peculiars - have this... enemy. Monsters, in the most literal sense. Emma and I have a hunch that Jacob can see them as Abe had..." Millard trailed off when he looked at me, my eyes wide and jaw slightly dropped. "I'm sorry, I must sound insane," he apologized. I shook my head, a small smile growing on my face.
"Not at all. Everything is beginning to make sense, actually. Before we left Florida to come here, Abe told me that he was killed by monsters - wights, I think he called them. They eat the souls of peculiars, right?" I was kind of proud that I remembered what Abe had told me nearly two months ago.
"Well, not quite," Millard replied. "Wights are certainly terrible, but they're more human than monster. The real monsters are the hollowgast - empty-souled, by definition. All Miss Peregrine has told me is that in 1908, many male peculiars and traitorous ymbrynes joined together in Siberia, and after a large explosion, the women died and the men became immortal monsters. That's what they were looking for in the first place - immortality."
It was quite a lot to take in. I took a deep breath before speaking again. "And I assume they're the ones who eat peculiars?" Millard nodded.
"That's how they become wights. If they intake enough souls, they become human - well, in the lightest terms. They appear human, but they're still far too corrupt to be considered so. The best way to find a wight is by looking at their eyes; they're pure white, as their name suggests." I nodded at his response, then something dawned on me.
"What does Jacob think of all this?" Millard looked away, over the calm waves caressing the shore of the beach.
"He doesn't know yet. I'm not even supposed to be telling you this - the Headmistress would have my head if she found out I've told you. It just felt wrong, not having you know and all."
I nodded, hardly paying attention as I caught sight of something over Millard's shoulder. Two figures sat in the water by a boat, speaking. I could tell just by their figures and hairstyles that it was Jake and Emma. "Well, it looks to me like Jake's about to find out." Then they kissed. "Or... not."
Millard turned to look at the sight and began laughing quietly, and I couldn't help but join in. "It's barely been a week, and they're already snogging like a married couple," Millard commented, looking back at me with a much happier look in his eyes than what had been there only a moment ago. I liked seeing him like this - happy, enjoying himself.
After a while, we sat quietly together by the beach, leaning against a wide tree by the water's edge, looking out over the water. Stars were reflected in it, making the water appear as though it wasn't there, and instead was just an expansion of the night sky. There was seldom a ripple in the water, and aside from our breathing and the wind through the trees, all was silent. Jacob and Emma's voices didn't even carry through the air toward us.
Before long my eyelids began to grow heavy, and I leaned my head on Millard's shoulder. He didn't retaliate, thank god. In fact, he - slowly - rested his head on mine. Unfortunately, our relaxed states had to come to an end, as we realized we should probably begin to head back. We both looked across the water once more to see Jake and Emma still talking, so we head off, back towards the town. This time, however, Millard lead me through the trees bordering the town, which weren't as thick as the forest, but still slightly creepy in the dark. I knew, however, that despite the fact that we'd only known each other a short time, Millard wouldn't put me in any danger. Not on purpose.