Jane Doe and the Cradle of All Worlds by Jeremy Lachlan

Author:Jeremy Lachlan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook
Publisher: Hardie Grant Egmont
Published: 2018-06-07T16:00:00+00:00

THE HALL OF A THOUSAND FACES

She’s watching me when I wake up, cat-like hazel eyes fixed on mine. I sit up straight, clear my throat, wipe away the drool trailing down my chin. I’m not sure how long I’ve slept, how far we’ve travelled, but Hickory’s asleep again. The bounty hunter’s still hauling the cage, sweat shining on his shoulders under every passing candle. I wonder if I squirmed much in my sleep. Could the girl tell I was drowning with my parents, about to be taken by the tentacled monsters with white-fire eyes? Did I cry out with Dad when Mum disappeared? Did I make a noise when the dream shifted, when it became something more, and I went flying through those flooded corridors of the Manor, down that waterfall into the cold, black whirlpool?

Let go. Mum’s voice came to me again, but I still can’t figure out why.

‘Hello,’ I say to the girl. Maybe I’ve spoken too quietly. Maybe she speaks a different language. All she does is narrow those eyes a fraction. I lean a little closer, speak slowly. ‘My name’s Jane Doe. What’s yours? Uh. Your name? Do you – can you understand me?’

Nothing.

I reckon she’s about my age. I can see bits of dark hair beneath her scarf. She doesn’t look frightened at all. Wary, yes, but not scared. And her eyes really are flat out –

‘Pretty.’

The word just pops out, and Hickory’s woken up just in time to hear it. He turns over, chuckling like a damn monkey. I don’t even know if monkeys chuckle because I’ve only ever read about them in books, but if they do I bet this is what they sound like. I tell him to shut up, and he does – right away – but not because of me. The bounty hunter’s watching us.

Nobody says a word for the next billion hours or so. I get pins and needles down my arms because they’ve been tied behind my back for such a long time. My skin isn’t numb anymore. All my cuts and bruises ache again. I count doors to pass the time. Dream up escape scenarios. Grand exhibitions of strength and bravery, things that would impress the girl and show her I’m the kind of almost-woman who always takes control. She’s still watching me.

‘Don’t think she likes you,’ Hickory mutters, and I think he’s right. I’m me, after all. Jane Creepy-Eyed Doe. What I need is a hat or something. One that says Not a monster, just misunderstood. I could wear it all the time. People like hats, right?

When the cage finally stops again I figure the bounty hunter’s having another rest, but he just stands to the side and gestures at the archway ahead. The room beyond is long, slightly wider than the corridor we’re in now, and the walls are covered in carved stone faces, floor to ceiling. Horned faces. Fanged faces. Screaming, snarling, laughing faces. The bounty hunter holds a finger to his lips, steps right up to the archway.

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