3. Cold / Tower

3. Cold / Tower

He couldn't see the end of the stairs. It was darker than he was comfortable with and the stone of the walls was old. It crumbled beneath his hands when he fell against one of them. They shouldn't be there, but he knew that if his sister didn't want to leave they would be awake all night. She had wanted to explore, so here they were. She had told him she would go and investigate on her own if he didn't want to come with her, but he couldn't let her go all by herself – there were monsters in the dark and ghosts in the tower. She might need him.

So he did what every younger brother did when trying to persuade their older sibling. He whined.

“Ann-nnieeeeee. Are we there yet?”

“Almost, Toby, stop complaining!”

Toby huffed and wrapped his arms around himself as the wind rushed down the stairs, making him shiver.

“But I'm cold!”

Annie turned to face him, two steps above of him, taller than she normally was, eyes bright in the surrounding darkness.

“Look. I just want to reach the top of the stairs, ok? If you're still cold by the time we get up there, I'll give you my coat and we'll go home.”

He used his smallest voice, “Promise?”

She put a hand on her heart and the other palm out between them. Like they used to.

“Promise.”

He put his hand to hers and gave a small smile. She might be old enough to have boyfriends (and kiss them, yuck) and be more interested in make-up and shopping than cartoons and playing pretend, but she was still his older sister. Besides, she promised. She would never break a promise.
She was always the adventurous one. When they were younger, she had told him that her secret wish when she blew out her candles was to become a spy. She would be great at it, too. She loved exploring and playing detective. She was really good, too, even Daddy said so. No, wait, Dad. Annie said he was getting too old to call him Daddy.

Dad said she could grow up to be a private eye – not like a real eye, it means detective – or part of MI5 and call herself Jane Bond! But Annie said she would call herself AnneMarie Truman, because no one would doubt someone with the word “truth” in their name. And because it sounded grown-up.

Toby wasn't so sure. But Toby didn't want to be a spy. He wanted to be one of those people that worked on TV. Not the actors, because then everybody would see him and he didn't like the idea of that, but maybe filming them. Dad let him use the video camera sometimes and said he was good at “getting the shots”, whatever that meant. Mummy said that if his marks were good he might be able to go to a different school one day, where they teach how to use the camera properly and make films and craft things like the Space Rangers had. The Space Rangers were his favourite show. They saved the world using their Space Powers and still handed in their homework on time. Annie would make a great Space Ranger.

Annie said he should follow his heart. But his heart didn't speak, it only beat. Should he play the drums?
The wind blew down on them again. He shivered and almost tripped.
It was way past his bedtime and if Mummy found out where they had gone they would be in a lot of trouble. And he really was cold.
“How much longer?”
“I can see the end of the stairs. Come on, Tobaby, where's that sense of adventure?”

He frowned at her, but she didn't turn around to see.

“I'm cold,” he repeated, “And don't call me that. I'm not a baby, I'm seven.”

She was right, they were almost at the top, there was moonlight coming down now. It glinted off one of her earrings.
She started walking faster and faster until she was running.
“Race you to the top!”Challenge accepted, he thought.
He ran after her, trying to keep up, but her legs were longer.
“No fair!” he shouted after her, “You started before me!”
All he got from her was a laugh.

“Come on, Toby, you can do it! You're my little brother! You're Toby! You can do anything!”

So he pushed himself harder, ran faster, reached the top.
He still got there after she did.

She was standing in the doorway, looking out, blocking his view, as well as his way.

“I let you win.”

She laughed again, “Very gracious of you, young sir.”

She bowed at him, then did a curtsy.
“That was redundant.” he said, pleased at being able to use this new word. He'd found it in a book in class, and Miss Johnson had said it was good word to ask about.
She smiled at him and held her hand out.
“Shall we step onto the tower? You never know what sort of magic happens during a full moon.”

He had been about to clasp her hand, but he turned to her wide eyed instead, “Full moon? The werewolves are out!”

“Not on the tower. The magic keeps them out.”

Toby wasn't convinced. Werewolves were strong. Though magic was stronger. She still held her hand out to him. He was unconvinced, but curious.

“What magic?”

“The magic of the tower! Haven't you heard the stories?”

He took her hand, “I've hears the stories about the ghosts. And the monsters. But no magic.”

They stepped out into the night on the tower.
It was beautiful. The night was dark, though the stars and the moon were out (and it was a full moon too, though he couldn't find any werewolves) and Toby could see the village lights to the right.
“Can you see the stars?” Annie whispered.
“Yes.” he whispered back, starting to count the ones above the forest.

“That's the magic. The stars protect you from everything bad when you're up here. They look out for you.”

She let his hand go and started walking around the edge of the tower. Clockwise, he noticed, but she probably wasn't doing it on purpose. He followed her.

“See the way they flicker?”

“Yeah.”

“That's because they're sending magic down to us.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Magic, light, love and inspiration. You know how sometimes Mum says the inspiration particles aren't hitting her today? That's because she hasn't been outside.”

It made sense. Mummy wrote books for a living. Toby had thought that meant she lived to write, but then she had explained it meant that she wrote books for money. Though she did love writing. Toby wasn't sure why.
“And when something isn't alright or you feel ill, people say you look peaky. Why? Because you haven't got the light and love from the stars. Even during the day.”
She had a point. But it was freezing out here, even colder than it had been on the stairs.
“Annie?”

“Mmm?” She was staring out at the village with a strange look in her eyes, almost sad.

He shuffled closer to her, “Can I have your coat?”

“Oh, of course! I forgot.”
She took her coat off and gave it to him. It was as warm as she was and smelled like the bubblegum perfume spray that Auntie Millie had given her for Christmas.
“Thanks.”
They stayed there in silence for a while, Annie staring off into the distance again, Toby staring up at the stars, wondering how they got there and if they really did flicker because of magic and love.

“We should go home,” said Annie, suddenly.
“Why?”

She gave him one of those looks that said, I'm your sister, don't argue, I'm older, “Because you should have been in bed hours ago, and we have school in the morning.”

“Oh,” he deflated, “alright.”

They slowly made their way back down the stairs. Before they got to the bottom, Toby had a thought.

“Wait! If the magic only works on top of the tower, what if the werewolves attack us once we get outside?”

Annie smiled at him again, “We won't. The magic is in us now. Werewolves will never bother us. That's why I brought you here, so the stars would protect you.”
He gave her a quick hug as they walked under an arch, out of the building.

“You're my favourite sister.”

“I'm your only sister!”

“Yeah, that too.”
She was his favourite, though, despite being the only one. She knew so much about cool things.

She hit him on the arm, “Silly boy.”
“Can we come back sometime?”

By themselves again, without the parents knowing, at night, without her girly, giggling friends and her stupid boyfriend.

“Any time you want.”
He put one hand over his heart and his other palm out between them.

“Promise?”

She mirrored him, her palm warm against his. Like they used to. An unbreakable vow.

“Promise.”