Andrew was surprised to find Victoria still in the cave. He’d left her unchained and with the entrance open for two whole days. Looking back, he knew that he did that on purpose. He wanted her to leave. Because if he came back to find her gone, maybe he could pretend the problem was over, and his life will go back to where it was before all this happened.

It didn’t take long for Victoria to shatter those naive notions.

“I can’t leave without Constantia,” was her answer when asked why she didn’t just leave. “And I haven’t yet decided whether or not to kill you in your sleep.”

“I would prefer it if you didn’t,” Andrew said as he held out the basket of food hooked to his arm. “How about a trade? My life for a sweet roll?”

Victoria snatched the basket over and began digging into its contents. “One will hardly do,” she muttered as she bit into the side of a muffin. “Maybe a hundred, or a thousand.” She pulled open the top of a milk bottle and gulped it. Then she sat down and stuck her feet out towards Andrew.

He asked, “You haven’t changed your bandages?”

“I don’t know how,” Victoria answered. She finished off the milk and tossed the empty bottle to him. “Besides, shouldn’t it be the captor’s responsibility to make sure his captives are alive? That’s always what happens in Constantia’s books, anyway.”

Andrew picked up the bottle and went back down to the beach. There was a sharp wind coming from the north, full of a salty, harsh coldness that seemed to come from the frozen depths of the sea. Andrew had to fight to keep his balance as he climbed back up the stone steps to the cave.

Victoria was deep inside, munching on a triangle of cheese. When Andrew sat down in front of her, she put her feet up into his lap without prompting.

“Is your sister a writer?” Andrew asked as he unwrapped and examined Victoria’s feet. The cuts had started to heal, but keeping them wrapped up for two days was not good. Her skin is all white and puckered. Any longer and the skin will have started to go on the wrong side of soft.

“She was a reader,” Victoria said. “I think her favorite author was Aragon Dragon, or something.”

“Did you mean Dragonia?” Andrew asked. But Victoria wasn’t paying any attention to him. She was looking at her feet too, and her cheeks took on a similar shade of white. She put aside the cheese she was eating. “Is… are they… going to be alright?” she asked, pointing with a shaking finger.

“Your feet?” Andrew said. “Oh, they’re going to be fine. It’s your toenails I’m more worried about.”

“What… what about my toenails?”

“They’re going to fall off.”

When he didn’t hear anything, Andrew looked up. Victoria’s eyes were brimming over and her lips quivered. She looked so scared Andrew felt a wave of guilt wash over him.

“I was joking,” he said. “Sorry. That was in poor taste, I know. But I was trying to be funny.”

He ducked as cheese flew over his head.

Once Victoria was full and her dressings redone, Andrew asked her about her home.

“Why?” she asked, her mouth again full of food. “An orphanage is hardly a place to boast about.”

They were both sitting near the entrance of the cave, looking out. Andrew kept his gaze above, watching the balls of grey clouds tumbling across the sky. It seemed the storm was going to hit the island sooner than any of them thought. And it wasn’t going to be a storm, but a typhoon. He remembered his boat on the beach. He would need to get it to shelter, or risk losing it to the winds.

“And we need wood for a fire, a proper door to block out the rain. Then there’s food, warm clothing, and of course some emergency medication.”

“What are you talking about?”

Andrew realized he’d been thinking out loud. “I was just… listing.”

Victoria rolled her eyes. “I understood that part. Why are you listing?”

“Storms coming,” Andrew said. “Aren’t you the one who said it was my responsibility to look after you?”

“Yes,” said Victoria. “Just as it’s your responsibility that I get home safe.”

“You should get some rest,” Andrew said. “I’ll be back tomorrow with more food.” He stood, looked at her briefly then added, “And some fresh clothes. You shouldn’t have to wear the same things for so long. That was an oversight, I apologize.”

Still perched on her flat rock, Victoria watched him carefully, her eyes teasing. “Is this the first time you’ve kidnapped someone?”

“Well…” Andrew was about to defend himself but changed his mind. “Yes, actually. We don’t have a habit of keeping subjects long before transmuting them.”

“What changed this time?”

Behind him, Andrew could feel the wind growing stronger. It whistled across the mouth of the cavern, chilling the air as it squeezed through. Turning, he could see the ocean darkening in color. Usually blue, today it was almost black, the tops peaked with foamy grey.

“I think it’s because I’m trying to do the right thing,” he said, “after too long a time doing what might not be.”

Victoria’s laugh was biting, as was the cold creeping into the cave. “You couldn’t have come to that decision before meeting us?”

“I will return you to your home,” Andrew said. “I promise you this.”

The smile on Victoria’s lips vanished completely. “You promised us you’d take us both back by sunrise.”

Andrew thought about what to say to that. It was true. He did. He said it to Victoria but his words counted both sisters.

But that wasn’t possible anymore. Because one of the sisters was as good as dead.

“And that was before I really knew you,” he said. “I would never lie to you now.”

Victoria stood. She hobbled over. The orange light of dusk caught her eyes as she leaned towards Andrew. “What changed?” she demanded. “What made you do things differently?”

“I ask myself the same thing,” Andrew said as he took a step back. “Before, I thought it was because I had come to know you better, but then I find out you’re more famous than you seem.”

Victoria stopped approaching. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“There’s a detective in town who had been looking for you.”

A peculiar look crossed Victoria’s face then. “What detective?” she asked.

“He had a photo of you and your sister,” Andrew said. He described all that he remembered from it, the school uniforms, the way the sisters were slung over each other.

Victoria stopped him mid-sentence. “How do you know the photo was of us? That was - I mean, that seemed like an old photo.”

“Your hair was different and you were wearing nicer clothes,” Andrew agreed, “but I recognized your eyes.”

“My eyes?” Victoria took another step forward. Andrew inched back. The wind was at his back now, ruffling his cloak. “Dear me. This is the last place I’d expect hearing a confession.”

“The detective seemed to know what he was doing,” Andrew said. “Tall and dark-looking. Likes to smoke. Do you know him?”

“No,” Victoria said, tapping her chin. “I didn’t think we were important enough for anyone to go looking.” She fell silent then, and gazed past Andrew at the sea. Her eyes grew distant. It was like she was trying to recall any information about this dark detective, but after a while she seemed to have hit a wall. “I’m cold,” she finally announced, then hobbled back into the cave. “Do you mind making me a fire? The nights are getting frightfully cold.”

Andrew thought about leaving, but he felt sorry for Victoria. No doubt, he’d made some past memories resurface with all his talking, and judging by her responses, she could have done without the reminder that her life was immeasurably better before she met him.

“I just need some wood,” he said, turning from the outside to give her a smile.

That was when he saw her running at him, a rock clutched in her fist.