Dragonstones
“I don’t know, Storm. I’ve got the kids now. I can’t just…”
“Those children are going to have to learn you’re a Draakjager one day, Somnolent.”
“Besides, tesoro, we need you.”
“We’ve got a hotspot and it’s moving. That’s a fully awakened Dragon. The Draaksteen isn’t holding it anymore, not even a little. This thing’s flitting through the Afmeting like a swallow on a hot day. People will get hurt, Somnolent.”
“Including Rachel and Timmy, Storm!”
“Who cares?”
“They’re your kids!”
There was a silence. The voice, the cold voice that sounded practically devoid of emotion, returned with poison in its tones.
“They are not my children.”
“You gave them to me.”
“I found them! I wanted to hand them over to an orphanage! But no! You had to play the fool and give up everything, leave us without a third person, just because of some good-for-nothing children!”
“They’re my children now!”
“You hate them! They’re cruel, spoilt brats! You’re not made to look after children! How would you know how it’s done? Why don’t you remind us all what happened to your mother?”
“Shut up! What do you know about love? Everyone knows what your parents did to you, you little…”
“Don’t you dare…”
“Ladies, calm down! Please!” This voice, male, heavily accented, interrupted. “Somnolent, tesoro, the bambinos won’t be hurt. I promise. But we do need you, you know we need three people to do anything, otherwise Storm and I just argue.”
“Excuse me?”
“Shadow, I would, I really would, but I can’t… I can’t… I’m the baby, anyway, you can find another Draakjager, surely…”
“There aren’t that many around these days. Somnolent, you’re Begaafd, powerful Begaafd, and a Draakjager. And you’re the only one we know. The only one with your unique talents. We really need you!”
“You can find someone else.” Nanny repeated, unmoving. There was a sigh.
“At least come with us to the Geheimboekhandel, the kids will like it.”
“I don’t want them involved in this!”
“They will be one day, Somnolent! One day, they’ll have to learn the truth!”
“Please, Somnolent. Cara mia. We need you. Please?”
“No. I’m sorry, Shadow, Storm, but the answer is no. I can’t do it. Not with the kids.”
There was a long silence.
“I can’t believe-”
“Drop it, Storm.” There was the rustle of fabric and paper. “If this is what you really want to do, cara mia, that’s alright. If you change your mind, Somnolent, tesoro, we’ll be here. The bambinos would like the Geheimboekhandel.”
“Too dangerous.”
“Nothing like a little danger to make childhood eventful.”
“Life isn’t like that anymore.”
There was another rustle of clothing. Then a whisper.
“I still love you, cara mia.”
“Mon cher. I still love you. The only problem is, Shadow, that you love everybody.”
“Including you.”
“Including me. Goodbye, Shadow. Goodbye, Storm. Good luck with your Dragon.”
There was the creak of the door opening. Then a pause.
“Just answer me one question, Somnolent.” The cold voice asked. “Did you keep your Draaksteen?”
The door slammed shut without an answer.
Rachel poked her head out from under the covers as her little brother, Timmy, did the same. For just a moment, there was silence, just the golden band of light at the bottom of the door that told them that the kitchen lights were on, and then the unmistakable sound of someone crying.
“Nanny!” Timmy called out, Rachel diving under the blankets again, afraid of being found out. “Nanny, I can’t sleep!”
There was a crash as a cup was dropped, then a moment later the door opened. Nanny looked just like she always did, sweet and smart, with a black polo-neck sweater, a grey skirt and black tights. Her nails were trimmed sensibly short on delicate hands, and she was not wearing shoes. A plait of dark brown hair fell to the small of her back, a few wayward locks falling over her face, which was heart shaped and looked young for the thirty three years she claimed, had little rosebud lips and huge, hazel brown eyes. But those eyes were puffy from crying and, despite frequently claiming she was blind as a bat without them, Nanny wasn’t wearing her glasses.
“Timmy?” Standing in the light of the little kitchen, the young woman rubbed her eyes. “What… what did you want?”
“Nanny, I can’t sleep! I want a story!”
Rachel sighed, rolling her eyes. Timmy was only six and couldn’t be expected to understand the significance of visitors in the middle of the night. But Rachel was eleven, and through the open door, she could see that there were two cups and saucers on the side, and a broken set on the floor.
“Oh… oh… okay, Timmy, I’ll tell you a story if you promise to try and sleep when I’m finished, alright?”
“Yes, Nanny!” The little boy, blond haired and blue eyed, pulled his covers up to his chin. Nanny carefully tucked in the boy, and the knitted dragon she’d made him. She stared at the dragon for a bit before Timmy prompted her.
“A story, Nanny!”
“Oh… oh, yes. What sort of story, Timmy?”
“A story about a little boy!”
“A little boy…” The young woman was still staring at the dragon. “Well… well…”
“Come on, Nanny!” Timmy kicked his feet. Nanny’s stories were usually very good.
“Once… once apon a time…” Nanny was trying desperately to make her voice sound cheerful, but it wasn’t working. Rachel felt like sitting up and saying ‘No story tonight, you stupid little boy, can’t you see Nanny’s upset?’
“Once apon a time there was a little boy… a little boy with blond hair and blue eyes.”
Timmy giggled.
“He… he lived with his mommy and his daddy and his big sister, who all loved him very much… and… and he was six, and…”
“Go on, Nanny!”
“And he was… he was given a dragon for his birthday. His seventh birthday. And the dragon was magic, and…”
“Was it a purple dragon? The purple ones are my favourites.”
“Yes, it was a purple dragon. And the purple dragon could make it rain or make the rain stop, so the little boy could always go out to play when he wanted to and never had to do sports when he didn’t. And it was such a little dragon that it would sit in his pocket, and when he was cold the dragon could keep him warm. And one day the dragon got big enough that the little boy could ride on it’s back and they flew wherever they wanted to and had lots of adventures.”
“What sort of adventures, Nanny?”
“All sorts, Timmy. But you’ll have to wait until tomorrow. Go to sleep now.”
Nanny got to her feet, ready to leave. Rachel interrupted quickly.
“Nanny, you’re not wearing your glasses!”
The moment she said it, the woman smacked her forehead into the door. Nanny staggered a step, put one hand to her head, and then turned and smiled at Rachel.
“I’m not, am I? Blind as a bat. Silly old me.”
And then she was gone.
* * * * *
The next few days were fairly uneventful, yet something wasn’t right. Timmy came home from school crying and Nanny had to go talk to the head teacher. Rachel got teased for not having fashionable clothes and not wearing her hair the way all the other girls were, and came home and yelled at Nanny for not getting her the things she wanted.
Both times, instead of resigned patience, hugs and kisses and presents, Nanny left the room, shut her bedroom door and burst into tears.
Finally, when Rachel had come home after having to pick up all her schoolbooks from a puddle and screamed her head off at Nanny, saying that it was her fault that Rachel didn’t have any friends, the woman just collapsed to the floor and sobbed.
Rachel kept yelling for a while, but her heart wasn’t in it. Finally she stormed off to play with Timmy, who was making paper cut outs from the bills they couldn’t afford to pay. Eventually, Nanny dragged herself into her bedroom and shut the door, but Rachel could still hear her sobbing.
* * * * *
Nanny managed to drag herself out to make dinner, fish fingers and spaghetti hoops. She wasn’t wearing her glasses again, her hair was un-plaited and hadn’t been brushed in a few days, and there were ladders in her tights. Rachel kept her mouth shut. Timmy insisted on a story before bed.
“Once apon a time there was a little boy… a little boy with blond hair and blue eyes.”
Timmy giggled, as he always did.
“He… he lived with his mommy and his daddy and his big sister, who all loved him very much… and… and he was six, and…”
“Go on, Nanny!” Right on cue. Rachel dug under the covers.
“And he was… he was given a book for his birthday. His seventh birthday. And the book… and…”
Timmy scowled. “I don’t like books, Nanny! Change the story!”
Nanny wasn’t listening. She was still staring at the knitted dragon that Timmy always had close to him.
“On the front of the book… on the front of the book was a dragon. The book… the book was called… ‘The Bartering Wyrm’. It… it was a red book, with a tatty cover and gold letters. The little boy was told he mustn’t read the book, just look after it, but the boy was too curious. So… so, one night, he opened the forbidden book. And he started reading… and… and it just so happened, that there was a school teacher that the little boy didn’t like at all, not at all… and… the next day… the next day the teacher was dead.”
Timmy kicked his heels more. “Nanny! Nanny! I don’t like this story! Change the story! Change the story now!”
Nanny wasn’t listening.
“And there was a boy at school he didn’t like either, so that evening, he read some more of the book, and the next day that boy was dead too.”
“Nanny! Nanny, stop! I don’t like this story!”
“And soon… very soon… the little boy realised that he had to choose who was going to die every time he read from the book, and now he’d started, he had to read from the book every night, otherwise… otherwise it would be him that died… and if he didn’t choose… he’d die… and if he tried to burn the book or tear the book or hurt the book… it’d be like he was burning or tearing or hurting himself…”
“Nanny!” This time Rachel’s voice was added to Timmy’s. Nanny faltered, looking around like she was seeing the room for the first time.
“Nanny, what are you doing? You’re scaring Timmy!”
Those huge, brown eyes blinked twice, and then the woman smiled weakly. “Oh… I’m… I’m sorry, Timmy, I was just… Nanny’s just a little bit upset. I’m sorry I scared you.”
“I don’t want a scary book to eat me, Nanny!” You could hardly see Timmy for the blankets.
“No scary book is going to eat you, Timmy. It’s a story. A stupid, made up story.” She hugged the boy tightly. Rachel wriggled out from her bed and dove onto the pair of them, wrapping her arms around them both with a laugh.
It took her a moment to work out that Nanny was crying again.
* * * * *
They ended up sleeping in the same bed that night. And in the morning, when they awoke, there was only bread and butter for breakfast. The electricity had been cut again. Nanny shuffled around in her pyjamas for a while, looking white and drawn, without her glasses again, before she managed to pull herself together and ran a bath when the hot water was back on. Rachel and Timmy were both scrubbed down, and then shut out of the bathroom while Nanny drew another bath just for herself. The two children were perplexed. Normally Nanny was very strict about the amount of water they were allowed to use.
She stumbled out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, her hair, loose and wet, hanging down her back. Rachel, who was buttering herself a fourth slice of bread, almost fell off her chair.
“Nanny!”
The young woman turned around, her large eyes slightly sad. Rachel did fall off her chair.
“Nanny, what happened?”
“Huh?”
“Your hair! Your eyes! What happened?”
Those eyes, previously hazel brown, were now a silvery grey. And the hair slicked over her head was rich purple, streaked with white.
“Oh, I just changed the colour.”
“You dyed your hair?”
“No… I just washed the dye out. Get Timmy dressed, Rachel.”
“That’s your job.” The girl sulked. Nanny glared at her. It was the first time the woman had ever shot her an ill look, and for the first time, Rachel was every so slightly afraid.
“But I asked you to do it, Rachel. And get yourself dressed while you’re at it. Sensible clothes. We’re going out.”
“Out where?” Timmy complained, but the woman didn’t answer, just shutting the door to her bedroom. When Rachel tried the handle, it wouldn’t move.
“Why’s Nanny acting so funny?” Timmy asked. Rachel didn’t have any answers.
When they were both dressed, Rachel tried the door to Nanny’s room again. It was still locked. But Rachel knew the locks on these doors weren’t very good, and could be opened with a normal knife from the kitchen.
Nanny was sitting on the bed with her back to the door. The big chest from the bottom of the wardrobe, the chest that was wrapped in a chain and padlocked in addition to it’s own rather substantial locks, the chest that was never opened, was in the middle of the room with it’s lid thrown back. Strange clothes of every colour were thrown around the room, and Nanny, her new hair only half plaited and slowly unravelling, was wearing a weird little frilly blouse with blue ribbon bows, half off one shoulder, and a tight white bodice that laced up at the back, was turning over a number of things on her lap.
“Nanny?”
The woman started, looking up. Rachel took a step back as those weird silver eyes flashed angrily, but then a weary kind of generous patience returned.
“What is it, Rachel?” She closed the little jewellery box on her knees and got to her feet. She had little white shorts trimmed with lace that came down to her knee and long black stockings on, and the tight white bodice had a little bow on the breast.
“I… where are we going, Nanny?”
“Nowhere.” She replied, grabbing a frilled white skirt and pulling it over her head. Rachel moved a swathe of pink silk aside and sat on the bed.
“Then why are we all dressed?”
“No, Rachel, you don’t understand. We are going nowhere.”
“I still don’t understand.” Nanny began throwing dresses back into the trunk.
“Is it cold outside, Rachel? Do you think I should wear my green taffeta, or would the blue velvet be better?”
“Wear something purple, to go with your hair.” Rachel watched, fascinated, as the plait unravelled. Suddenly reminded of her unruly mane, Nanny darted to the mirror in a froth of petticoats.
“Oh, damn it. I forgot about my hair!” flicking the plait over one shoulder she attacked the ends with a big old silver handled hairbrush and started to sort out the strands. “I’m not very good at dressing myself, I haven’t done it in so long…”
“You do it every day, Nanny.”
“Not like this! Oh… pass me my little jewellery box, Rachel.” Tying off the plait, Nanny started coiling it into a tight bun. The little girl picked up the enamelled box, tracing the silver and green dragon on the top with her little finger, and opened it. She was disappointed. It seemed to mostly be full of tarnished jewellery with dark, heavy, strange looking pebbles or lumps of rock instead of jewels.
“Rachel? Give that to me, please. I didn’t say you could look inside, did I?”
She handed the box over, indifferent now that she knew the things were worthless, and watched as the woman finished off her bun with two long pins. A thick, heavy black silk choker with a stone at its centre went around her throat, as did two or three chains with stone pendants encased in little lockets. Around her head, anchoring in the bun, was a thin band that held a little stone pendant on her forehead. A ring went on every finger, and there was a bracelet on the right wrist and a band on the right upper arm. On the other, a plaited friendship bracelet of green and brown with two small stones hanging from the tassels. There was something strange about that one. Then Nanny produced a pair of mismatched earrings, and said a bad word under her breath. Nanny’s ears weren’t pierced.
She took the cap off a long, silver hatpin, took a cork out of a bottle in her top draw, and set out to remedy that.
Rachel squealed and hid her face in the pink silk, not pulling it away until Nanny had slotted the two ugly bobs into place and got to her feet again. She carried on flinging clothes into the trunk, stopping now and again to hold something up.
“What did you say I should wear, Rachel? The green or the blue?”
“Something purple!” she repeated, glancing around for a purple dress. Nanny shook her head.
“It’s too cold for the lilac satin with the white lace, and the purple taffeta and black lace is really more of a ball gown. Oh! But I’ve got the white silk muslin with the lavender trim. That’s got purple on it, and it’s nice and warm, and I can wear my hat with the white ostrich feathers. Well done, Rachel!”
Nanny hurried around, grabbing armfuls of fabric and dumping them unceremoniously into the trunk. Finally, she found the one she wanted, throwing the last few gowns in the vague direction of her travelling box.
“Oh, damn it. I forgot. This one wants a crinoline and I’ve forgotten where I put mine…” the contents of the case were all flung out again as Nanny searched for the offending object. Finally she produced a huge skirt made almost entirely, it seemed, from hoops, and pulled it over her head. Rachel watched, slightly in awe, as the dress followed. The skirt was all ruffles of fine white fabric, as was the front of the dress. The sleeves were slightly large, with purple cuffs and a purple ribbon around the waist and a purple bow at the throat. The neck was just low enough that the ugly choker could be seen and the heavy pendants pulled out to sit on top, but high enough to keep her warm. The fascination continued as a broach, the same dull, unpolished, almost dirty stone, was fastened on the lavender bow, a chain as thick as Nanny’s little finger and fastened with a clasp of, unsurprisingly, the dark stone went around her waist. From this hung half a dozen chains of varying length, each with a stone on the end, most, if not all, encased in tarnished silver and gold cases, although Nanny opened and checked each and every one. A small broach went on the front of a little white hat with extravagant white feathers, which was held in place by three hatpins, each with a stone top. White gloves went on over the rings and bracelets, and a little clasp fastened around the handle of a white umbrella of some flimsy material. A large, gaudy broach in the shape of a flower with a stone centre went on her little white fur wrap. Finally, Nanny held up two buckles with stone adornments, and flung herself down on the floor.
“I forgot my shoes!” she cried, riffling through the trunk to find a little pair of white kid leather boots. “I can’t take all this off now… Rachel, you’ll have to put them on for me.”
“Why?” Suddenly turned sulky, the little girl made a face. Nanny sighed, squeezing her skirts together and sitting on the bed.
“Because I can’t, Rachel! Please, sweetie, do you have to make such a fuss about every little thing I ask you to do?”
Rachel continued to pout. Nanny pushed the boots into her hands.
“Look, I’ve put the buckles on for you, all you have to do is put them on my feet and tighten them. It’s not hard. You aren’t telling me you can’t even put a pair of boots on?”
Inflamed by the insult to her abilities, Rachel took the shoes and flung herself down on the carpet. Soon, Nanny was able to rise to her feet and close the trunk.
“Right!” She brandished her umbrella at the door. “You and Timmy are both dressed? You’ve got your shoes on? No… go put your shoes on. And get your coat. We’re going to…” Then Nanny stopped, closed her eyes, and crumpled.
“Oh, dear gods…” She pressed her white-gloved hands against her face. “What the hell am I doing? This is ridiculous. I’m going to get us all killed…”
Someone rapped on the front door. They both froze. There was some muffled voices outside the flat, and then someone rung the bell. Rachel stared at Nanny. She wasn’t moving, just staring at the entrance to their home.
Then there was a schnick, and a creak as the door was sprung open. Nanny was on her feet in an instant, striding forward with her umbrella held like a sword.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing…”
There were two men in the doorway. One had long blond hair, round glasses and a pure white suit with a hat and long coat. The other, the one in front, had a handsome face, dark eyes, and a red coat with a swirling cape on his shoulders. Nanny’s eyes went wide, her umbrella lowered, and with a muffled cry of “Oh, Jesus!” she fell forward.
Quicker than Rachel would have believed possible, he darted forward and caught her. Rachel stared, halfway between surprise and disgust, as Nanny clung to him and sobbed. The dark eyed man made soothing noises and stroked her cheek, holding her very close. Somewhere in and among the choking sobs Rachel caught snatches of sentences, like “How did you…?” and “Why are you…?” and “Oh, god, what have I…?”
“Shhh, tesoro, it’s okay.” The man lifted her up, as though she was nothing more than a couple of bits and pieces tucked into ruffles and ruffles of white silk, and put her down on the sofa, kneeling by her head. Her face streaked with tears, Nanny twisted her fingers in his sleeve and wouldn’t let go.
“O-Oh… Shadow, I…”
“It’s okay, cara mia. I guess I know you too well, huh? I knew you’d come through for us.”
“What? No…” Nanny tried to push herself upright. “No! I’m not… I won’t…”
And then, much to Rachel’s disgust, the strange man in red wrapped one arm around Nanny’s waist, dragged her against his chest and kissed her.
The other man, the one all in pale, snorted, and all of a sudden Rachel was struck by the thought that actually, for a man, he was pretty funny looking. Actually… he was probably a girl. Not a pretty girl, but his face was heart shaped, a fact not helped by round, rimless glasses, and he was tall and willowy.
“When you’re finished with this ridiculous charade, I’ll put the kettle on, shall I?”
The dark haired man broke off and, furthering Rachel’s dislike of him, giggled. To her surprise, Nanny did the same.
“Tea would be lovely, Storm, tesoro.”
“Don’t call me that.” She snarled. It definitely was a girl, or rather a woman, from the voice.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, there’s no electricity…” Nanny tried to get up, but the dark haired man pulled her back, kissing her on the mouth, before helping her onto her feet in one smooth movement. The pale woman snorted again.
“Then we had best just be getting on with it. Your trunk’s packed?”
“Oh, yes…” Nanny glanced back towards her room, but the dark haired man steered her away.
“We’ll come back for it. Lets get on with this… we think the Dragon might be onto us. It certainly seems to be tracking us, and we’ve got a marginally – very marginally – better chance if we’re on ground we know.”
“As well as anyone can know the Geheimboekhandel.” The pale woman added, with a slightly sour tone. “And this better be reunion high-jinks – I’m being reminded of exactly why I disliked working with you both in the first place.”
“What about Rachel and Timmy?” Nanny burst out, suddenly. The man in red turned, seeing Rachel for the first time.
“They’re coming with us. Safer that way.”
“But where are we going?” Timmy asked, cocking his head to one side in confusion.
“Nowhere.” Nanny and the dark haired man replied simultaneously, then giggled. Rachel made a face and stamped her foot.
“You keep saying that! But you also keep saying that we’ve got to put our shoes on and go out! Where are we going?”
“Stupid girl.” The pale woman shot Rachel a look of disgust. “Don’t you realise that ‘nowhere’ can be a place?”
* * * * *
Looking back, neither of the children was quite sure how they ended up at the Geheimboekhandel.
The pale haired woman had slammed the door shut, fiddled with the handle a bit (Although Rachel was pretty sure she’d seen the woman press a ring on her finger against the handle, a ring set with the same ugly stone as all of Nanny’s jewellery, she couldn’t quite see what difference this would make), and then flung it open again. The hallway hadn’t looked any different, but for some reason the woman had run through the door and started down the stairs going as fast as she could, and the dark haired man had followed her, holding Nanny’s hand, and Nanny had followed holding Rachel’s hand, and Rachel had clung to Timmy’s sleeve, and it had almost seemed like they were going to fall down the stairs together but somehow they didn’t and she couldn’t really be sure their feet were touching the floor and at one point she looked up and could have sworn she saw some strange figure running up the underside of the stairs above them except that couldn’t be and she couldn’t remember a lot of what she’d seen and all of a sudden…
… And all of a sudden there they were, stood in the Geheimboekhandel.
If she’d had to liken it to something, it would have been an old, mad wizard’s library. They were stood in the centre of what she wanted to describe as a clearing – shelves radiating out around them, shelves that reached to twice as high as the pale woman, the tallest of them all. They were filled to overflowing with books – shiny new books, huge leather wrapped tomes, magazines, dog eared paperbacks, school books, library books, bundles of paper and parchment tied together with string, random pages, newspapers, picture books… so many books that they bulged out of the shelves, and even more books had been piled sideways on top of them, and there were even piles of books on the floor and some just scattered where they’d fallen. Here and there were stepladders on wheels, and although there was no lamps or light bulbs (The ceiling was a matt black so deep and consuming that could just as well not be a ceiling at all, since there was no way to tell how high it might be) there was a general vague, soft, dusty golden light.
Nanny turned round and knelt in front of the two children.
“Listen.” Her voice was low and calm, but serious. “The Geheimboekhandel is dangerous. It might not look like it, but you can get lost very, very easily. Stay close to us, stay where there’s light, don’t touch the books if you can help it, don’t try and crawl through the back of the bookcases, if you find a place where all the books have fallen off the shelf turn around and run as fast as you can, and if you meet anyone else don’t tell them their name or why you’re here, just smile and stay completely silent. Unless they’re a librarian – you can tell if they’re a librarian because they’ll already know your name, and mine, and if they give you a book say ‘thank you’ and keep it… and if you’re scared and lost you can ask them to take you home and they will. Just in case we get separated…” And here she slipped of a glove and took off one of her rings, and undid the clasp on one of her necklaces. “These will get you home. Timmy…” She put the ring, which had been for her smallest finger, on his, where it only just went past the knuckle and stuck. “His name is Taemmorghh. And Rachel…” She fastened the clasp and dropped it around Rachel’s neck, tucking it inside her clothes. “His name is Raismmiell. If you get lost, or afraid…” She put her hands on their shoulders, looking at them both with utter seriousness. “Hold the stone tightly, say their name, say ‘take me home’, think hard about the flat, and start running as fast as you can. If it doesn’t work – sometimes it doesn’t, I don’t know why – find somewhere to hide for a few minutes and then try it again. Don’t ever – ever – say their names unless you’re trying to get home and say ‘take me home’ strait away afterwards. If you like, you can always try shouting ‘Librarian!’ and one might find you and take you home, but then again someone else might so again, keep silent until they call you by your name and run away if you get scared. Do you understand?”
The pair of them nodded, a little shell-shocked. Nanny smiled, standing up.
“Right! Let’s find us a dragon!”
“A dragon?” Timmy’s eyes opened wide, glittering with excitement. “A real dragon? With claws and wings and scales?”
“Ce, tesoro, a real dragon.” The dark haired man smiled down at the little boy. “With claws and wings and scales.”
“And breathing fire?”
“Maybe fire. We don’t know yet.” He replied with a shrug and a smile. Rachel pouted.
“Who are you?” She blurted out rudely. The pale haired woman scowled, but the man in red laughed and squatted down to her level.
“Forgive me, tesoro, we haven’t been introduced. My name is Shadow, and my very solemn friend there is Storm. What’s your name?”
“I’m Rachel and he’s Timmy.” She replied stubbornly, folding her arms. “But who are you?”
“They’re old friends of Nanny’s.” A worried look on her face, Nanny interrupted them quickly. Storm snorted loudly.
“Nanny? Is that what you’re calling yourself these days? And I thought you couldn’t get any lower than ‘Somnolent’.”
“Somnolent…” Timmy repeated, with a wondering voice. Rachel scowled.
“It sounds like medicine.”
“It means ‘something that makes you sleep’.” Nanny replied, sounding anxious. “It… well, it’s my name. ‘Nanny’ isn’t my real name.”
“Oh…” Rachel fingered the grubby chain around her neck, not at all happy with its ugly weight around her throat. When the others weren’t looking, she slipped the pendant off and tucked it into her raincoat pocket. She wanted to just throw it away, but the way Nanny had handled it so carefully made her think that maybe it was a bit important, and she’d get into trouble for loosing it. And it had a name… Raismmiell. Raismmiell… it wasn’t a pretty name, but it rolled in her head like a plume of smoke and she couldn’t let go of it.