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Back The Twisted Tree
Chapters (34)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. Author’s Note
  32. Look out for The Crooked Mask
  33. Acknowledgements
  34. About the Author

I don’t say anything and she sighs. ‘I didn’t want Mormor to fill your head with the same nonsense. I didn’t want you to become like me!’

I glance at the window, where our reflections stare back at us from the glass. We look so similar. I wonder why I’ve never noticed before. I don’t know whether to be angry or feel sorry for her.

I touch her arm and her woolly jumper is heavy with fear and confusion. She found it easier to believe that she’d been hallucinating than admit that there’s magic in the world. She’s been trapped for so long, afraid to admit the truth. I am disappointed in her, but then I know how easy it is to delude yourself. I was so absorbed by self-pity that I convinced myself Stig couldn’t be interested in me. I shudder, remembering the nightmare I had, where my eyes and mouth were stitched up. If I hadn’t seen how I was, that would have been my fate – cut off from the world; sewn shut.

‘I will tell you everything, but first you have to read the journals. OK?’

Mum takes a moment. ‘OK.’

A weight I didn’t know I had been carrying lifts from my shoulders. I feel so tired. My head spins and I grip the counter to stop myself falling.

‘Are you all right, Martha? Maybe you should lie down.’

She leads me into the lounge. ‘I’ll go to the police in the morning. You can tell me where Yrsa and Olav are, and I’ll say I found them while I was walking the dog. That way you won’t have to lie when you give a statement.’

‘Thanks, Mum.’

There is so much I have to say, but I’m so tired. Tired of feeling angry and disappointed. With everything that’s happened, it doesn’t seem important. She loves me and she’s here for me now, and that’s what matters.

I stop at the sofa and take a long, blissful look at Stig. I wish I could stay by his side all night. ‘Mum, will you watch him for me, make sure he’s OK?’

‘Of course. Now into bed.’

26

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I wake to the sound of a happy house: people talking and laughing. For a moment I don’t dare open my eyes. Stig is alive. Mum is here and she knows the truth. Gandalf is fine. It’s like when I used to wake on Christmas morning and was afraid to explore the house.

In the kitchen, Stig has his back to me, eating breakfast, and Mum is at the sink. The two of them are chatting happily in Norwegian. I go to Stig and hug him around the neck, cautious of his wound even though it seems healed. He smiles at me and I grin back.