EPILOGUE
EPILOGUE
Louisa opened her eyes, blinking as her vision adjusted to the darkness. The cave, she thought. She was still in the cave. But Julia—where had Julia gone?
She stood and crept along the cave wall, stopping when she came to the entrance. She blinked in the halflight of morning, shielding her face from the sunlight. The ground outside was charred, and as she poked at the earth with the toe of her shoe a swirl of ash rose into the wind.
She watched the ash swirling, rising, and then, as she lifted her eyes, she saw something else. It was a shadow … a shadow that seemed to grow more substantial as it spread itself over the sky. Louisa shrank back into the cave, wondering where she could hide, wondering if Peter and Julia were safe.
And then there came a light, brighter by far than the shadow, stronger than any light Louisa had seen. It was as if the sun had come to earth. And the sound, like a thousand bells, reverberating inside her head. Louisa fell back to the ground and stared, her eyes burning. She couldn’t close them, couldn’t look away from the light. The light was speaking to her, calling to her.
She stood and walked out of the cave, following the path down to the mine. It was time.