Hey guys. This chapter is more or less just a little insight into Thomas' childhood, and why he is such a 'troubled soul'. Completely my own imagination, so please, please be kind. I hope you all enjoy it, and double thanks for the continued support.
Sparki: I own nothing!
"Stop!"
Lowering himself into a crouch, Tom turned to his daughter. With a narrowed gaze, he raised a finger to his lips. Sybbie nodded solemnly, but both hands flew to her mouth. Tom held back a chuckle; he didn't want to ruin the 'hunt'. Carefully, he lowered a hand to the forest floor. The undergrowth was cold against his palm. The dying leaves felt soft, and their drying bodies brushed his fingertips. Unable to remain silent any longer, Sybbie crept forward.
"What is it, Papa?" she asked, her small voice hushed. "What can you feel?" A twig crackled underfoot, and the girl froze where she stood. With a look of apprehension in her dark eye, she gazed down at her father.
"Do you think the…," For a moment, her voice trailed off. Tom waited as she regained her breath. "Do you think the beast heard that?"
Tom smiled, but made sure to hide it before turning. He looked at the girl from over his shoulder. Had the beastie heard? he wondered.
A bark, loud and clear, shattered the morning's silence. Sybbie gave a frightened yelp, and Tom leapt to his feet. Another bark, and Sybbie practically threw herself into her father's arms.
"It's the beast!" she hissed in his ear. "Papa, it's the beast!" Peering through the trees, Tom nodded.
"Yes, it is the beastie," he agreed, and slowly lowered the girl back to earth. Placing his hands upon the girl's small shoulders, Tom looked her gravely in the eye. "But Sybbie, you've got to be brave, now. You have to face the monster. Everyone is depending on you!"
Sybbie was gazing at him, wonder-struck. "Who?" she urged, all but jumping on the spot. "Who's depending on me?" Tom raised his brows.
"Oh, everyone, my girl!" he exclaimed. Sybbie shuffled closer, her fists clenched in excitement.
"The kingdom of Dublin?" she asked, and beamed as Tom nodded. "And the wisps? Them as well?"
Tom laughed. "All of them and more!" he cried, and spun Sybbie around. "So you see, you have to be brave! You have to face the beast!" Another bark, closer this time – much, much closer – rang echoed through the forest. Tom could almost feel the animal drawing near, its strong paws striking at the dewy ground.
With her fine brows drawn into a scowl of determination, Sybbie leapt forward. With a frantic war cry, she hurtled towards the trees, with Tom following close behind. The barking grew louder, and closer, and louder, and louder, and then…
"Duck!"
Isis caught Tom in the chest, and he fell to the ground. The Labrador looked overjoyed, but after a moment, seemed to remember her role. Standing upon him, the dog growled.
"Papa!" Tom heard Sybbie's approaching footfalls. "I'll save you from the beast!" With another war cry, the little girl threw her arms around Isis' neck. The big dog barked, and with a buoyant pounce, swiftly brought the child to the ground. However, Sybbie had forgotten about slaying the monster. She lay upon the ground, laughing hysterically as Isis licked her from head to toe. Somehow managing to contain his own joy, Tom stumbled forward.
"I'll save you, M'lady!" he cried. In one moment, he scooped his daughter from the dog's embrace, and ran off through the trees.
Swinging around, Sybbie clutched at her father's neck. "Papa! The monster! The monster!"
Throwing a glance over his shoulder, Tom saw Isis, tongue lolling and tail wagging, bounding along behind them. Together, the odd trio raced through the woods. Up ahead, Tom could see forest's end.
"We're almost there!" he panted. In his arms, Sybbie laughed. "We're going to beat the monster!" she whooped. In one last, frantic burst, father and daughter fell into the sunlight. Stumbling, Tom fell upon the grass. Sybbie squealed, but rolled from his arms, unharmed. Isis, overcome by the early morning's excitement, collapsed beside Tom. He could feel the dew, cold and clean, soaking through his jacket. But he didn't care. For a moment, he lay still, his eyes closed.
He felt a small warmth nestle against his heaving chest. Peeking from beneath his eyelids, Tom gazed down at his daughter. She was grinning up at him, with a smile so wide, Tom feared it might burst forth from her face. With gentle fingers, she pushed his dark hair from his eyes.
"I love you, Papa," she sighed. Tom smiled, and placed a small kiss upon the girl's forehead.
"I love you, Sybbie," he told her. "Happy Birthday, love."
"Stop!"
I held out a hand. It shook, I noticed. I hoped – I prayed – that Gracie would not. Beneath my feet, the ice groaned. As I stood there, upon that frozen lake, my heart stopped. Just for a moment, I swear that it did.
"Tom…," Gracie's voice was small, broken, and tainted with an immovable fear. "Tom, I'm… I'm scared." Her legs, small and slender, trembled so very much, I feared she would collapse. For the briefest of moments, I wanted to scream.
"I know, Gracie," I breathed, my hand still outstretched. "I know, but... but you're going to be alright. I promise you, that I will not let anything happen to you." I chanced a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. "Especially not today," I added.
Gracie nodded, but the terror did not leave her doe-like gaze. I studied the ice beneath her boots. It was cracked and misshapen, like a broken mirror. In the silence of my mind, I marvelled at the fact it held at all. Of course, I did not voice these thoughts to my sister. I opened my lips, and noted how dry my throat had become. My tongue felt like lead in my mouth.
Fear does that to a person. With a gulp, I cleared my throat.
"Gracie," I breathed, "you have to do exactly what I say. Do you hear me?"
Gracie nodded. "Exactly what you say," she murmured, her little voice tight. I nodded, and placed one hand upon the ice. As my skin brushed the frozen water, pain shot through my arm. It was so very cold. I winced, but did not lift my hand.
Slowly, hesitantly, I pushed down. The ice creaked, but remained steady. After a moment, I pushed harder. Still, it stood firm. Looking back at my sister, I smiled.
"Okay, now, remember," I started. "Exactly as I say." Her voice now completely swallowed by fear, all Gracie could do was nod mutely. Stretching out as far as I could, I indicated a place, just to the little girl's left.
"Carefully," I reminded her. Slowly, she raised one foot. For a time, she stood, balanced on one leg. She was afraid to place her foot, so unstable was the ice. I struggled not to yell at her.
"Gracie, you need to move," I urged, my voice betraying none of my inner panic. My sister shut her eyes tight, but did as I asked. As her boot touched the frozen water, it cracked. We both froze. Gracie stared at me. I tried to remain smiling.
"Next foot," I told her, but the girl shook her head. I sighed. "Gracie, you have to trust me. You have to trust me."
She shook her head. "No!"
I raised my voice. "Grace Barrow, move now!"
Taken aback by my force, she inched her foot across the ice. I tried to block the horrendous cracking from my mind. Gracie now stood, in exactly the same position, only a little more to her left. I sighed again.
A little safer, to her left.
Inch by painful, terrifying inch, I coaxed my little sister forward. With each trembling foot she placed down, the ice gave a crack. I tried not to wince at the dreaded sound, but it was nigh impossible. The ice held, however, and I began to believe we might make it home for Gracie's birthday supper.
But then, it happened.
When she was little more than an arm's length from where I crouched, Gracie's boot fell through the ice. She let out a piercing cry, and for a moment, I was almost certain I would lose her. Without thinking, I leapt to my feet.
"STOP!"
My voice echoed through the trees, and across the frozen lake. Gracie's eyes held the manic sheen of pure terror. The ice beneath my own feet groaned threateningly. I could almost hear my sister's heart as it raced along, so loudly, I thought it might burst from her chest.
"Gracie," I began, my voice shaking. "Gracie, look at me."
But she was no longer listening. With a sobbing breath, she tried to pull free her boot. The ice cracked further.
"Tom," she whimpered, "Tom, help me! HELP ME!"
"Don't move!" I screamed, but it was too late.
With a sickening crack, the ice gave way.
"GRACIE!"
Hope you all enjoyed it : )
