‘If you swim straight ahead you’ll come to a little gravelly island in the middle of the cave. When the tide comes in, it’ll fill up with water. There’s worse places to die. When the wind hits this place right, it sounds just like music. That’s why we called it the Siren’s Cave. If I were you, I’d fill my pockets with stones, let them pull me to the bottom, and then take the biggest gulp of water you can. You’ll panic for a minute or so, and then you’ll be dead.’

‘No. No! No!’

Davey shoved him forward. ‘Goodbye, nameless boy. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry it had to end this way.’

‘Davey! Please, Davey!’

But Davey was gone.

Forest huddled in the middle of the gravel cave. He could hear glubbing and splashing all around him. This would be his tomb. Just like Alexandra and little Huck. He was going to drown.

Was there a way out? No, he’d already felt the tide rising. He couldn’t get back through that tunnel.

And he was tired. So, so tired. Tired of running. Tired of pretending. Tired of the madness. Everything he’d set out to do had blown up in his face. He made everything worse for everyone he’d ever met. It would’ve been better if he was swallowed up by the ocean. Forgotten.

Nameless.

Now, knowing he was about to drown. Knowing there was nothing else he could do to stop it . . . he let go.

Instantly there came the sound of settling gravel. Then he heard familiar breathing beside him. With the click of a lighter, a little flame appeared. It cast no light or shadow, save to reveal his face, but it was fuzzy. Weird. In and out of sight.

He lit his cigarette and puffed a cloud into the damp air.

‘Huck?’ said Forest.

‘No more pretending,’ said Huck. ‘We go to our deaths as men.’

Forest shook uncontrollably. His teeth were clenched so hard they hurt.

‘How are you here?’ said Forest.

By the light of the cigarette tip, Huck turned on him. ‘You’re about to die the same way I did. I’m here to help you. I don’t blame you. It was good you listened to your mum. It was good that you left me.’

A memory echoed around the cave. Alexandra’s voice. ‘Go, Forest!’ She was panicked, but her voice was calm. Her diving torch lit up the cave. Little Huck whimpered in the corner, eyes wide and unseeing, terrified out of his wits. ‘You can’t help him. Get out of here!’ She’d handed him the slate, brushed his cheek. ‘You’ll be fine. I love you. Don’t let your dad find you! Just go!’