5. The Morning After the Night Before

Snow
*
The Morning After
*
Luciel and the others

Sylvia is in a forest again. In reality, she's never actually been in a forest herself before; children aren't allowed beyond the grounds of the orphanage (not that that stops Zack) so she's only ever seen them in pictures or on television. This particular forest must be influenced by a winter holiday brochure as it’s full of pine trees, and the snow crunches beneath her feet wherever she walks. Luciel is beside her this time, although his brightly coloured attire doesn’t really look like it is intended to be worn in these sub-zero temperatures. Apart from the crunching of the snow, the forest is silent. Luciel hasn’t spoken, and Sylvia doesn’t really have anything to say to him at the moment, so she’s left it that way. Besides, he might be stalking something, it which case he’d want to be very quiet so as not to be noticed.

Sylvia’s hands are cold. Despite wearing a warm padded coat with a hood, she forgot to put on gloves. She rubs her hands together, blows on them, and a cloud of water vapour condenses on them. Now they’re damp and cold. Sylvia wipes them on the sides of her coat and searches for pockets or some kind of hideaway for her cold hands. No pockets, no nothing. She eyes Luciel jealously. How could he not be feeling the cold whilst wearing those tropical shorts and tie-dye baggy shirt? You can see by the way it hangs off his shoulders that it’s paper thin. He looks like he’d just stepped off a beach in Hawaii, although that’s probably more to do with the sunglasses he’s wearing and the flower garland round his neck.

Sylvia hugs herself in the duffle coat as they carry on walking down the path lined with trees. No-one’s walked down this path yet, the snow is still fresh in front of them. It almost seems like a crime to disturb the forest with the cacophony of their crunching footsteps, ruining the perfect blanket of white.

Luciel stops a few steps behind Sylvia. Sylvia turns round and looks at him; he has his hands over his mouth.

“Ah…Ahh…” his voice rises in pitch and volume, his eyes grow larger. Sylvia quickly looks round, she can’t see anything that’s obviously attracting his attention, and turns back to Luciel looking to him for some kind of a hint.

“Achoo!” Luciel sneezes, loudly. The silent spell on the forest is broken as the noise reverberates throughout; birds fly from their roosts and chatter loudly in the sky, before congregating in a flock and departing for somewhere quieter. Sylvia looks up at Luciel, who is looking sheepish.

“It’s your own fault for wearing bloody shorts in the snow.” She snaps.

“Oh, someone’s being cold today,” Luciel retorts, pauses, sees Sylvia raise an eyebrow, and sighs. “No sense of humour either.”

Sylvia starts walking along the path again. She can hear the crunch of snow a few paces behind her.

“Don’t walk behind me like that;” she says, “it makes me think you’re stalking me.”

“What if I am?” Jokes Luciel. Sylvia doesn’t reply. “OK, OK,” concedes Luciel, “you’ve really got no sense of humour at the moment, I get it.” Luciel jogs up back to her side again, and they walk along in silence. Luciel’s gaze meanders all around them, until it settles on Sylvia’s arm.

“Er, Sylvia,” he says.

“Yes?” She asks.

“What happened to your hands?” Luciel says. Mildly concerned.

“What about them?” She asks.

Luciel reaches out and lifts up the empty sleeve of the duffle coat

“Well they, along with your arms, seem to have disappeared,” he says, “should I be concerned? I can always fix you up with a good doctor who…”

Sylvia’s arm emerges from under the coat and pulls the sleeve out of Luciel’s grip.

“Idiot,” she mutters, “my hands are just cold, that’s all, and I didn’t bring any gloves”

“Do you want to hold mine?” Luciel asks.

“Not after you’ve just sneezed all over them.” She says.

Luciel shrugs, pauses, and sneezes again. Sylvia eyes him menacingly. Luciel raises his hands above his head in a surrendering gesture.

“I swear that wasn’t deliberate.” He says.

Sylvia shruggs and carries on walking. They are nearly out of the woods now, the lighting is improving as the trees thin around them, giving way to shrubs and open space.

“Sylvia?” Luciel asks

“Mmm?” She replies, too lazy to form words from the cold air.

“Let’s go somewhere warmer next time.”

*

Sylvia awakes to the sound of tapping below. She is lying on the hard wooden floor, head resting against the timber boards, and the blanket on her has rearranged itself in such a way during the night that her feet are exposed, and very cold. Aching, she rolls over, places both hands on the boards and pushes herself up. The blanket slides off her into a heap.

“I warned you you’d be cold if you slept out here.” Says Luciel as he sips a mug of tea, not taking his eyes off the newspaper. Sylvia turns round and scowls at him. He glances up at her momentarily, and then goes back to reading the paper.

“You have red marks all over your face where you slept on the wood grain,” he remarks in an impartial fashion, “it’s quite a sight.”

“Where’d you get the paper and the tea?” Sylvia asks groggily.

“I have my sources…” Says Luciel

“Can I read the paper?” Sylvia asks

“No.” Replies Luciel abruptly.

“Why not?” She asks.

“Because Elliot has been tapping away down on the ground for half an hour waiting for you to answer him and it’s driving me insane, so you aren’t getting anything from me until you go speak with him.” Luciel says, and glances up again sternly. This doesn’t quite have the effect he was intending as Sylvia bursts out laughing.

“Alright, alright,” she says, “who was it who said I had no sense of humour though, honestly Luciel, you sound like a grumpy old man.”

“Show your elders some respect then and go tell him to shut up.” Says Luciel, still concentrating on the newspaper and pretending to be serious. Sylvia knows he’s playing along, she saw the brief smile flash across his lips. Sylvia wraps herself up in the blanket like a shawl and walks over to the edge of the platform.

“Are you trying to chop the tree down or something Elliot?” Sylvia yells. Elliot looks up and grins.

“Timber!” he yells back at her.

“Very funny…” she smirks, “what are you doing waking me up so early in the morning?”

“Aren’t you going to roll down the ladder?” He asks.

Sylvia stands there, makes a gesture to mimic deep philosophical reflection then replies.

“No, not unless you give me a good reason to.”

“Are we going to be shouting like this all morning then?” Elliot asks.

“Have you got a problem with that?” Sylvia says, raising an eyebrow.

“Not really, but I thought you might be hungry, so I brought some food, but given as you won’t ro-“ Something hits Elliot’s head. “Ouch! Hey, what was that for?” he says.

“You said you wanted me to roll down the ladder right?” challenges Sylvia, “Jeesh, you’re so fickle.”

Elliot smirks, “your one weakness, food.” and begins to climb the ladder.

Elliot and Sylvia sit cross-legged on the platform of the tree house and open the package he was carrying. A few slices of toast and an apple.

“Sorry, I couldn’t get more without Lindel noticing.” Elliot apologises, “She threw an absolute fit after last night you should have seen it. You could hear her shouting all the way from the boys' rooms, it was hilarious. Anyway, she told us not to bring any breakfast for you, but I did anyway - since you didn’t get dinner either, so I’ll just say it was a very, very late dinner if she asks - because she didn’t say anything against that-” Elliot’s rambling again. He’s probably worried Sylvia’s going to throw him off the side of the platform as soon as he finishes talking or something. “It’s probably cold by now anyway though.” He adds hastily, “Mind you that’s what you’d expect if it was fr-“

“Elliot,” Sylvia interrupts

“Yeah?” He says, anxiously.

“Thanks,” Sylvia says, smiling.

“Er, no problem,” he says, grinning his usual manic grin, there’s still a hint of nervousness in his eyes.

“Elliot, you can calm down,” says Sylvia, “I’m not going to throw you off the edge of the platform or anything.”

Elliot’s eyes widen.

“You were thinking of doing that?”

“Not really," says Sylvia casually, "I might change my mind though.” She adds as an afterthought.

“Oh, OK.” Says Elliot, not really sure how to respond to the threat, if that’s what it is. He looks around the tree house, he hasn’t been up here since the spring when all three of them hid here from Lindel. His eyes roam around the structure, taking in every last detail. They pass over the spot where Luciel is sitting, and pause for a moment or two. Luciel looks up, sees that Elliot is staring at him, and waves. Elliot's eyes remain blank, and continue their journey round the room. Sylvia watches him out of the corner of her eye.

“Weren’t you cold up here?” He asks.

“I had a blanket” Sylvia says, pointing to the pile in the corner.

“Oh, I see.” Elliot says.

There is an awkward pause. Sylvia picks up a piece of toast and puts a corner in her mouth. It’s like cardboard.

“I’ll be going then,” says Elliot, “see you around.” And he descends the ladder. Sylvia crawls over to the edge of the platform and peers over.

“Oh yeah, Sylvia?” comes Elliot’s voice from the ground.

“Mmm-hmm” mumbles Sylvia, mouth full of toast.

“Lindel wants to know whether you're planning on coming down any time soon."
Sylvia inches back towards the tree house so that only her hand is visible from the ground, and makes a rude gesture. Elliot laughs.

“Thought not… see you whenever then.” He says, and turns to walk back to the house

*

Sylvia stands up and walks back to where Luciel is sitting.

“Can I read it?” She asks.

“Read what?” he says.

“The paper.” She says.

“What paper?” Luciel challenges.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Says Sylvia teasingly, “the paper you were just reading.”

“I wasn’t reading a paper,” says Luciel looking strangely at her, “where would I have got a paper from?”

“You said you had sources.” Sylvia protests

“Yeah, sources I can reach from a tree house in the middle of no-where.” Says Luciel sarcastically.

“But you were just…” Sylvia disputes, “You said I had to go and talk to Elliot…”

“I did,” Says Luciel the paper must have been a figment of your imagination though.” Sylvia sits down, not looking at Luciel.

“You’re just jealous of Elliot aren’t you?” She says spitefully.

“Oh yes,” Says Luciel sarcastically, “jealous of a lovesick 14-year-old who can’t form coherent sentences, yep, that’s me alright.” Sylvia turns away and walks towards the ladder.

“Oh come on, I was kidding,” Says Luciel, “I’m sure he’s got some good qualities, but he doesn’t have to make it so bloody, obvious. Especially in front of me.” He adds.

“You two have never really been on speaking term have you?” says Sylvia jokingly. Luciel raises an eyebrow.

“Well, I suppose you could say we’ve never quite seen eye-to-eye before” he says with deadpan comic timing. Sylvia starts giggling hysterically; even Luciel struggling to keep a straight face.

“I was really insulted as well; he didn’t bring me any breakfast.” Luciel adds. “What did I say earlier about respecting your elders eh? You younger kids just have no respect for us older folk now do you?” He says mockingly.

“You’re not THAT much older though are you?” Asks Sylvia curiously.

“Well, I don’t know to be precise,” muses Luciel.

“You’re around 16 or 17 though right?” Asks Sylvia.

“With an error margin of a couple of a thousand years…” Adds Luciel.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” says Sylvia laughing, “you could never be more than twenty.”

“I could be anything with the right amount of surgery and beauty products.” Says Luciel meditatively.

“Rubbish.” Says Sylvia.

“You haven’t seen the kind of transformations I’ve seen,” Luciel says smirking, “anything’s possible nowadays for the right price.”

“How about going the other way,” challenges Sylvia, “you couldn’t make yourself look, say, -17 years old.”

Luciel ponders the thought for a moment.

“No,” he says, “though I wouldn’t rule out the possibility completely just yet. Mind you,” he adds, “I don’t really see the demand for that kind of procedure taking off any time soon.”

“Me neither.” Says Sylvia. She walks over to the platform and dangles her legs over the edge.

“Don’t do that.” Says Luciel

“Why?” Asks Sylvia.

“Because I’ll have to put up with you complaining the whole day about splinters.” Says Luciel.

“I thought you’d be worried I’d fall.” Says Sylvia disappointedly

“You’re not that stupid.” Says Luciel.

“So are you ever going to be on speaking terms with Elliot then?” She asks.

“That’s entirely his call,” Says Luciel, “I’ve got no influence over it.” Sylvia starts laughing again.

“What?” Luciel says, “I was being serious.”

Sylvia stands up and walks over to the centre of the tree house, picks up the last piece of toast, and walks back to the edge of the platform.

“What about Zack?” She asks

“Do you think Zack would speak to me?” Luciel asks curiously.

“He’s always asking about you.” Sylvia says.

“Well again, it’s his choice,” says Luciel.

“I think he wants to, he’s just not sure how,” Sylvia chuckles, “I mean it is a little complicated.”

“You’re telling me…” says Luciel, “Well, if he’s the kind of person I want to talk to, he’ll find a way round it.”

“Luciel?” Asks Sylvia.

“Mmm?” He says.

“Does it ever get lonely,” She asks, “only having me to talk to?”

“Not really,” He says offhandedly, “I mean you’re always here, so if I need to talk, I just talk to you. It wouldn’t really bother me who I was talking with, so long as there was someone to talk to.” Luciel sees Sylvia’s face, it looks disappointed. “I-I mean, well no-one could replace you, I mean…” he tails off, takes a deep breath and begins again. “We have fun don’t we? I mean I don’t really know what it’d be like if it was with someone else, so I don’t really have anything to compare it to.” Luciel stops. He can’t think of anything to say. Sylvia sits there, legs over the edge of the platform, looking down at the grass. Suddenly she stands up, walks over to the ladder and begins to climb down.

“Sylvia, if it was something I said…” Luciel says anxiously.

“I’m going to Breakfast.” She says abruptly

“Huh? But…” Luciel tails off.

“I finished the last piece of toast and I’m still hungry.” Says Sylvia, “See you later.”

With that, Sylvia descends the tree house ladder, leaving behind Luciel and the apple.