Somewhere New (Isle of Doughnut #1)

Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

ASTER

W aking up in the morning wasn’t usually the sweetest moment of my day—Lucas once likened my pre-breakfast attitude to a feral cat searching out scraps—but it wasn’t normally such a painful process served with side helpings of where the hell am I and what the flip is going on .

‘Ow.’ I stretched in a bed that wasn’t mine, every single muscle in my body fighting to be crowned achiest little bitch. ‘Ow, ow, ow.’

As I forced my limbs into an under-blanket yoga-esque routine, the details of the previous days fell into place. I’d run to Doughnut to complete my master’s and escape the hordes waiting to trample my heart. I’d gotten lost in a non-snowstorm and had been rescued by the hottest man alive. He cared for me in my helplessness, and apparently put me to bed like a child.

‘Incredible first impression, Aster,’ I groaned, gingerly sitting up. ‘Such a charmer.’

The floor was flagstones under a series of plush rugs. To avoid searing off the bottoms of my feet with extreme cold, I jumped between the assorted squares and circles. First to the bathroom for a wee, then out to the main room.

I frowned. I’d assumed Callum had slept in another bedroom last night, the door of which I’d missed in my snow-induced stupor. But no, the teeny cabin boasted one sleeping quarter. That meant I’d forced Callum to undress and feed me, and had also kicked him out of his bed.

‘Gah.’ I leapt a foot in the air when a goat head appeared around the side of the sofa, quickly followed by a goat body. I’d thought I’d imagined him in my delirium. I crouched as the pygmy goat clip-clopped across the flagstones towards me, his fur a mix of whites and blacks and browns. ‘Albert?’

He bleated, showing off a pink tongue. I took that to mean, Good morning, and welcome to the mountains.

‘Thanks, old chap.’ I scratched the wiry hair between his knobbly horns. ‘Any idea where Callum is?’

I needed to talk to him. I had a whole lot of apologies to dole out. And we had living arrangements to establish. I’d assumed Bonnie would have set me up in accommodation with enough beds, but apparently not. No way was I kicking Callum out of his room for the duration of my stay. The sofa looked comfy and Callum was bigger than me, long-ways and widthways and every other single way. He should take the largest sleeping space.

Albert butted his head into my hands, then trotted over to the rug in front of the wood burner. I peered out of the square window set over the sink, but Callum wasn’t conveniently waiting on the other side. Instead, all I could see were rolling hills and naked trees and a stream babbling by.

The alluring smell of porridge distracted me from my host-hunt. Under a tea towel, a steaming bowl of milky oats waited. It was topped with dried fruit and nuts, and honey had been drizzled liberally across it.

‘For me?’ I wondered to the empty cabin.

Another bowl sat in the sink, and a pan. They’d both been scraped clean. If the residue up the side of the pan was any indication, then Callum ate a lot. No wonder, since he needed to keep up his strength ready for rescuing lost idiots and carrying them around the island.

‘He won’t mind if I polish off his leftovers.’ I carried the bowl over to the sofa. Albert clearly shared my opinion, since he licked the bowl clean once I set it to one side.

The warm porridge loosened the last kinks in my muscles. I couldn’t even be annoyed I’d just missed Callum, since the meal he’d abandoned was still hot.

My relaxed mood lasted for approximately one hour. I busied myself while I waited for Callum to come home. I got dressed and tucked my bags into a corner of his bedroom. I made a homely posy from my stash of dried lavender and camomile, which I tucked onto the ledge above the front door. I hunted out Callum’s Wi-Fi router and messaged Lucas and Dad to reassure them I was alive and well, choosing to leave out my near brush with death.

‘Bored,’ I announced to Albert. He didn’t open his eyes, already disinterested in my antics.

I looked out the window again. No sign of Callum. I could wait until lunchtime, when he might return, but what if he’d taken sustenance so that he didn’t have to trek home midway through a long day of doing whatever the heck he did out in the mountains? Then I’d have wasted hours of perfect sunshine, hours that could have been spent exploring an untouched wilderness.

‘He’ll defo have to come home for dinner, right?’ I shouted to Albert as I skipped through to the bedroom and threw on a couple more layers under my pink fleece. The day might look bright from the comfort of the cabin, but the temperature outside couldn’t have changed too dramatically since last night. ‘We can have a proper chat then.’

Albert jumped up from his makeshift nest in front of the wood burner and stood at the door while I laced up my boots, his tail wiggling. He stamped grumpily as I stocked my backpack with essentials, but I wasn’t going to let my new sidekick’s impatience make me walk into another dangerous situation. I filled my bag with bread and fruit, grabbed a big bottle of water and a blanket from the sofa. Fingers crossed I wouldn’t get lost again, but if I did, I wouldn’t be as helpless as the first time.

I left my notebook behind. There were days and weeks ahead for studying. Today was mine. I wanted to explore as much of these mountains as I safely could and soak in the truth that I was here and it was my actual job to study flora for the next three months.

Grinning, I yanked open the cabin door and freed Albert. He did a funny run outside, full of side steps and half kicks, then turned to watch me.

It wasn’t nerves that stopped me on the threshold. Not at all. I just wanted to avoid, if at all possible, a repeat of yesterday.

‘You have to keep me safe, okay?’ I told Albert. ‘We’re a team, you and me. Albert and Aster, mountain-climbing buddies. Your job is to lead me back here if I get lost again.’

He headbutted my shins, which I took as the goat equivalent of a handshake.

Closing the cabin door, I gripped my backpack’s straps as I inhaled great lungfuls of unspoilt air. I’d visited remote places before, had done field trips to meadows and woodlands, but I’d never been anywhere like this. I could turn a full circle and the only signs of human interference were Callum’s cabin and the road leading down the mountains.

Once I’d walked for twenty minutes, I couldn’t even see those any more. Albert stuck to his side of our bargain, running and jumping alongside me as I trekked higher into the mountains. My goat-shaped security blanket.

Despite the slight fear of getting lost again, I couldn’t fight the wide smile on my face. There wasn’t an inch of this island—at least the parts ramblers couldn’t get to—that wouldn’t provide wonderful examples of wild flora for my dissertation.

The sun shone, taking the edge off the chill in the air. Once it reached the highest point in the sky, I sat beside a winding stream and shared the bread and an apple with Albert.

I couldn’t help breathing deep and even out here. I hadn’t been quiet for so long in years. There was something about this place. My mind didn’t have to race, my mouth didn’t have to convert my every thought into sound.

Perfect conditions to practise stretching my powers. Checking the surrounding hillocks despite seeing no one in hours, I made sure I was alone before sinking my hands into the lush grass in front of my crossed legs and closing my eyes.

Connecting to my powers had never come as easily as it did here. They were waiting and ready, which Dad said was always the case, but it didn’t feel that way most of the time. I should have known. When I’d made the posy at the cabin, I only had to ask once for it to protect the house before the rush of tingly power passed through my fingertips. Normally, it took three or four times to get my witchiness to wake up enough to impart magic in the general direction I was aiming for.

I wasn’t strong, not like Mum had been. Dad said she thought of her powers like a raging fire, whereas mine were more like a flower bud. Small and unassuming. Dad told me stories of how Mum made meals that healed the sick and the spells she’d chanted that called down rain in times of drought. I couldn’t do any of that. I had a connection with flowers, they listened to me, but that was about it. I could reach out into the earth and, although animals and other elements ignored me, the plants responded.

Boy, did they respond here. My powers had gone from a bud to a bursting bloom. By placing my hands on the ground and paying attention, I became aware of an almighty chorus of voices that had been singing since the dawn of time. I gasped as my awareness stretched across the island; ancient trees groaning and crisp grasses chattering and flowers trilling in harmony amongst it all.

It wasn’t all sweetness and light. I revelled in the natural melodies of the island’s flora but as they sang to me, something deeper and darker called. I thought it might have been the loch, but even there life teemed and swayed under the weight of fresh water.

No, this was something different. Smaller than the loch, but powerful. Somewhere that leached life.

I opened my eyes. It was difficult to figure out the direction of things using my powers—usually it involved a lot of trial and error—but my connection to the island was strong. I turned to the left and could feel that the dark place was somewhere over the hills.

I stood up, packing away the remnants of our picnic while Albert pranced in circles. I could tell myself I was marching towards the dark place because it was important for my dissertation, but that wasn’t the whole story. It might be interesting to find and study any areas of the island that harboured natural diseases, but my gut told me this place was something other. Despite my mission—at least the more legitimate one—being the study and identification of wild flora, I couldn’t resist checking out somewhere I suspected had sustained significant damage at the hands of humans.

Despite not actively engaging with my powers any more, I could feel them pulsing within me as I neared the dark place. Hills and twisted trees hid it from view until I walked over a summit.

‘Fuck,’ I whispered, my footsteps stalling.

It must once have been a home. Now, it was a husk.

A casual glance might not reveal the damage. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Nothing was overtly wrong, but the misted windows and wilted flower beds and pitted brickwork all screamed abandonment.

My powers called to me, begging me to connect, but I shied away. This was a dark place. The darkest. Sadness lingered here. This wreck of a home had known death and the deepest sorrow.

It wasn’t as cold as last night, so the tears falling as I stood and stared at the lonely house soaked into the collar of my fleece.