At his back, the ocean.
The cave widened, and the battle sound of the surf was so loud it was almost silent.
Halfway to the back he began to cry.
She was gone. He was wrong, and she wasn't here. There was nothing on the ground that he could see, no candles, no lanterns, no flashlights. She wasn't here, and he had wasted all this time for nothing.
He dropped to his knees heavily.
Not here. Lilla wasn't here.
His mother and Colin were dead.
He drew up his legs and folded his arms around his calves, pushed his chin to his knee and let the tears come. He didn't care if he sounded like a baby. He didn't care.
"Aw, nuts," he sobbed. "Nuts. Goddamn."
Then he looked up and saw the shadow in the cave.
It was outlined by the last of the day's light, and it was moving toward him. Slowly. Without a sound. Its hands at its side, its head lowered.
He couldn't pull away; he was as far back against the wall as he could go, and he was so awfully tired that all he could do was shake his head. If there were words to stop the shadow he would have said them, but Lilla had all the words and he was just a kid and now he was going to be just like his mother.
The figure stopped.
It knelt before him.
It leaned close so he could see it.
"Hello, Little Matt," said Lilla with a smile, in a voice he wasn't sure was actually her own. "I sent the wind away. Can I play with you now?"
THREE
THREE