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I shrug.

‘It makes no difference, just so you know.’

I smile at that, because it is good to know. ‘Amber, my parents would be devastated if this information became public knowledge.’

‘Of course, especially because of the way it transpired.’ She squeezes my hand and catches my eye. ‘I won’t tell anyone. I swear.’ She then gives me one of her rare and beautiful smiles. Her eyes are welling with tears. ‘Could your parents get into trouble over this?’

‘I don’t think so. I hope not. They were thinking through a fog of emotions at the time.’

‘So no one’s going to take you away, are they? I mean, just let them try!’

I warm inside at her eagerness to protect me. ‘No one can take me away, Amber. At my age, legally I’m allowed to live by myself if I want.’

She reaches across the timber slatted table and pats my hand. ‘That’s a relief, but, hey, do you think this man Zavier was telling the truth?’

To ensure we have time enough to return home before dark, I start packing up and collect Shadow and Pandora from where we left them grazing. ‘That’s our goal today, Am, to find something to prove I was born in his house, like he told my parents, and hopefully not find proof the house was, or even still is, being used for some baby-smuggling business.’

We swing into our saddles and set off along the highway once more.

‘What if he’s still living there?’ Amber asks.

‘He’ll be in for a surprise, won’t he?’

She giggles, but it gets me thinking. What if he is? He could be affiliated with a big-time crime organisation! The house is in a pretty remote area.

‘Amber, you have to turn back right away. I didn’t think this through. I could be putting you in danger.’

‘You’re not doing this on your own!’ she exclaims emphatically. ‘What sort of friend do you think I am?’

‘This could get ugly.’

‘Forget it. We stick together. Where you walk, I walk. OK?’

There’s no arguing with the conviction in her voice, so I simply nod and promise myself to keep Amber out of danger.

At noon we turn off the highway into the first of a series of country roads. It’s not long before my stomach flutters at my first glimpse of the Windhaven River. This river forms the border between the two council districts Windhaven and Cedar Oakes.

It’s weird to think I’ve never been outside the valley where I was born. I must be the most sheltered sixteen-year-old that’s ever lived!

And now that we’re riding along the riverbank, the scenery changes dramatically from open farmland to hills of stunning pine forests. My mood soars. ‘It’s beautiful here,’ I murmur, vowing to see more of the world once I’ve finished school next year.

After what seems like an age, we finally locate Willow Tree Lane and,
whoa
, it’s so beautiful we both stop to stare. Lined on either side with stately poplars and scarlet oaks, this country lane has a manicured look – expensive and private. ‘This is it,’ I tell Amber.

She leans forward to give Pandora a ‘good girl’ pat. ‘Nice,’ she says, scrunching up her nose. ‘It screams “Private property” and “Keep out”, don’t you think?’

Our eyes connect and we burst into giggles for no other reason than we’re more than a little nervous. ‘You can pull out now, Amber, and I won’t blame you.’

‘Not happening,’ she says, and tugging on Pandora’s reins she takes off, click-clacking down the brick-paved lane.

I catch up, quietly relieved not to be doing this alone. We ride side by side, content to have a few silent moments with our own thoughts. A light breeze rustles the crisp autumn leaves. The lane itself is strangely pristine, devoid of dust,
debris and, amazingly, even fallen leaves. At this time of year that’s majorly remarkable. I study the trees more closely. There don’t appear to be any bare branches. The trees have not shed any leaves, almost as if time has caught them in a vacuum.

I should listen to myself! What am I thinking?

We stop at the end of the lane in front of a set of black iron gates with a silver letterbox built into one of the brick pillars. Engraved on the front in fancy calligraphy is a name:

Beyond the gates a sweeping driveway curves out of view behind leafy trees and manicured gardens. An ominous chill runs down my spine as I stare through the gates. I’m not normally superstitious. I know there are no paranormal states, but I am startled by the thought that this residence is evil. It makes me want to turn Shadow around and gallop all the way home. But I’m not ready to leave yet, not without trying to get answers.

Damn it, I’m being silly. It’s a flare of panic, that’s all. I’ll burst into a fit of laughter next. I do that when I’m nervous. I take a deep breath to pump some oxygen and sense into my brain.

A light touch on my arm makes me jump. It’s only Amber. She’s frowning. ‘Are you all right, hon?’

I nod, not ready to speak just yet. She seems to sense this. ‘We know where Mr Zavier lives now, so if you want to come back another time …’

‘No, I want to do this now.’

Amber’s blonde eyebrows lift as she forces a smile to her face. ‘OK. Remember, I’m right beside you.’

We leave Shadow and Pandora tethered to the left pillar of the gate, which opens at the touch of my hand on the handle. It swings wide enough for us to walk through in single file, and closes behind us automatically.

‘Neat trick,’ Amber says.

‘The whole place is probably electronically monitored.’ I search for the eye of a surveillance camera. ‘They could be watching us now, assessing whether we’re undercover cops come to break up their black-market baby-napping ring.’

A paved footpath leads away from the main driveway to meander through a tall rainforest garden. The canopy grows thick and adds an ominous dimension that rekindles the chill that ran down my spine at the front gates. I start to feel breathless, the urge to run away kicking in, but finally the house swings into view.

‘I thought we’d never find it,’ Amber murmurs, pulling aside a moss-covered vine. She hooks her arm through mine. ‘Not bad! Sandstone, right? I like the timber veranda with the white rails. It has a colonial look, don’t you think?’ She seems unaware that I’ve not spoken yet, not moved a fraction, or even taken a breath. ‘Ebony?’

Unconsciously I step backwards and, taking notice of the pressure building inside my chest, I open my mouth. My breath rushes out in a gasp and Amber runs to my side. ‘Ebony, what’s wrong?’

‘I’ve been here before. I don’t know how I know this, I just do. And …’

‘And … ? And what?’

‘It’s the same house as in my dreams.’ I look at her and ask, ‘What does this mean, Amber? What could this mean?’ I go on to answer myself. ‘I have memories of being inside this house. I remember a red room with mushrooms, and fairies pointing wands at mice.’ I shift my eyes from the house to her. ‘How is this possible?’

She looks lost for words. ‘I don’t know. How could you remember it when you were so little?’

‘I don’t have any memory of Willow Tree Lane, the driveway or this path through the forest.’

‘Do you still want go inside?’

I nod and she whispers, ‘Wait here.’

She runs off around the side of the house. I don’t know where she’s gone, but she returns quickly, breathing fast. ‘We could be lucky.’

‘What’s going on?’

‘Well, there’s no car in the garage, no clothes drying on the outside line and no pets in the yard.’

I look at her blankly. She raises both her arms. ‘I don’t think anyone is home.’

‘Oh, OK, but we still have to be careful in case we’re wrong.’

She nods and we walk up the steps of the front veranda, where I pull on an elaborate doorbell. When no one responds, Amber tries the door handle, but it seems firmly closed. She takes a step back and looks to see if there are any open windows, and I try the door handle, just to be sure. Just like the outside gates, it opens as soon as my fingers curl around it.

‘That’s creepy,’ Amber says, both eyebrows lifting high.

I shrug. I have no idea what it means.

We walk into a pristine, white-tiled foyer, then a living room where white leather sofas sit on either side of a brick fireplace. A baby grand piano, in front of a window dressed in white curtains, completes the picture.

Beside me, Amber’s mouth hangs open. I put my knuckles under it and gently push her chin up. She smiles at me and I shrug. ‘We should hurry before someone returns.’

She nods and we start working the living room, checking bookcases, a bureau, an antique chest of drawers, but find nothing. In the adjacent kitchen the minimalist style continues, with spotless white cupboards and a black marble worktop clear of all appliances except for one of those automatic espresso machines. We rummage through the bathroom and laundry; even the study produces nothing. There’s not even dust in this place. The man who returns here occasionally either doesn’t use the facilities or is literally the cleanest person alive.

Amber moves down a hallway while I wander back into the living room to check behind paintings for a wall safe, but again I find nothing. I start to wonder if I’m going to find anything here when Amber calls out from a bedroom, ‘I found something you
have
to see.’

I walk into a white room, the only furniture a wooden rocking chair, also painted white. ‘What did you find?’

Her eyes roll up to the ceiling. Mine follow, wondering what on earth she’s on about. I see it and gasp, inadvertently bringing my hand up to cover my open mouth.

‘Well?’

I try to put words together that make sense, but no
words can make sense of this. The high ceiling is painted red, with small clusters of brown mushrooms and fairies standing around them pointing sparkling wands at inquisitive little mice.

‘It’s exactly how I remember it,’ I whisper, ‘right down to the very same shade of red sky.’ It’s a memory that is definitely mine. And the only way I could have imprinted it in my mind is if I was lying on my back when looking at it.

The way babies do when they lie in their cots to go to sleep.

Dazed and disoriented, I wake from a deep sleep with the sound of someone calling my name from a great distance. ‘
Jordan!
Come on, kiddo, wake up.’

It’s a nurse. And each time she calls me she drags me further from the …
dream
? Is that what it was?

‘Listen, Jordan, I know you can hear me. You’ve been sleeping for thirty-six hours. It’s time, kiddo.’

OK, I get it. I have to check out of the dream and into reality, and this nurse is my ticket. It’s lucky for me she’s so persistent it’s hard to resist, because resisting is something I’m usually good at.

‘Hey, Jordan, I want you to come back now, please.’

That’s not a nurse. That’s Lillie!

‘Your housemates have been asking about you. They want to visit as soon as you’re well enough …’ She pauses and I know I should say something, but her voice is so easy to listen to, and there’s something else pulling my thoughts in another direction – the image of a beautiful girl with amazing violet eyes.

‘You have the will to survive.’ Lillie sniffs. ‘You’ve proven it more times than any young man should have to, more
times than you’ve been given credit for,’ she tags on kindly, ‘but this time you’re going to have to dig deeper than ever before to show me you can breathe on your own.’

What’s this? I’m not breathing on my own? I feel the bulky cylinder between my lips for the first time and begin to splutter and gag as I try to push it out.

‘Hold on!’ the sharper voice of the nurse wails, as she pulls the tubing out of my mouth. That feels better. I take a huge gulping breath and open my eyes.

It’s worth the effort to see Lillie smiling down at me. ‘Welcome back to earth, Jordan Blake.’

‘Huh? What did you … ?’
Ease up, she’s only joking
. So why does her reference to earth shake me up? It’s the dream I had, parts of it are still so vivid, still rolling through my head like a movie I can’t switch off.

The nurse takes my vitals and, while she buzzes around me, the dream spills out like a confession that has to be told. Between sucking on little chips of ice Lillie keeps popping into my mouth, I tell her as much as I can recall. Some details are fuzzy, like the angels’ names, but the intensity of their eyes, and the deal I agreed to, return in perfect clarity.

Lillie is riveted. Occasionally the nurse grunts as if she’s heard it all before. Her reaction is mildly comforting, but not enough to stop me freaking out.

‘That dream has really shaken you up.’

I shrug my shoulders and wince as pain spears through my chest from front to back and straight down my middle.

The nurse runs over. ‘Hold on, Jordan. You’re recovering remarkably well. Dr Mac is extremely pleased with you, but
your injuries are extensive.’ She places a remote in my hand. ‘Press this for pain. It’s morphine.’

I toss it away and she frowns. ‘It could put me back in the dream, and I don’t want to go there again.’

‘I’ll have a word with the doctor,’ she says. ‘There are other painkillers that go easy on the hallucinations.’ She collects her bits and pieces on a trolley and pushes it out of the room.

‘Lillie, do you think it really was the morphine that gave me the dream?’

Lillie helps me sip water from a bent straw. ‘It’s possible. Try to put it out of your head, Jordan. Conserve your energy for getting better. Your doctor said you’ll have to stay in hospital for a couple of weeks,’ she says, trying to distract me by changing the subject, ‘with physiotherapy for a few weeks afterwards. I’ve already spoken to your house-mates about covering your chores. Oh, and I’ll be speaking with your principal tomorrow to organise worksheets for next semester.’

I start to tell her how unnecessary that’ll be, but she shoots me down. ‘Even though your internal injuries are healing remarkably fast, you may still need time off school. Don’t expect to recover overnight, Jordan.’ She pats my hand sympathetically while I stifle a yawn. I didn’t know conversation could be so exhausting. Lillie notices and gets up to leave.

I grab her arm. ‘No, don’t go. It’s the meds, that’s all.’ I don’t want to sleep in case I slip back into the dream.