We had our first light fall of snow in mid October. The woods looked incredible: leaves turning so many colours like the wrappers in a box of Quality Streets. Sally and Simon spent most days, fingernails ingrained with oils, bubbling over with excitement about the challenge they were facing when they painted al fresco. When they get like this, even when they try and remember, they often forget normal stuff, like their daughter’s parent-teacher consultation and when they last saw her at meal times. It can be a bit lonely—at least I now had a piano at home to keep me company. But in Richmond, their studio was in the attic; here, they were a mile away at the centre.

So it was that they missed out on the little drama of which I found myself the focus.

The Wrickenridge High gossip machine was working over-time on the Zed Benedict/Sky Bright saga. I was determined that it was just ‘going out’; Zed had his protect-Sky-and-be-her-soulfinder agenda but I refused to discuss either with him—all of which made for a stormy time. But with a boy like Zed, what did you expect? A relationship with him was never going to be plain sailing.

Tina dropped me at the corner of my street. She’d been giving me grief about Zed, not believing me when I told her that he’d been unfailingly kind to me since he’d decided to turn over a new leaf and work at persuading me we were a good idea.

‘He doesn’t kiss you on the doorstep and leave—he’s not that kind of boy-next-door,’ she insisted.

‘Well, he did.’ I was getting a bit annoyed with her now. ‘He’s much nicer than he seems.’ At least, I think he was.

‘Yeah, because he wants you.’

I fisted my hand in my hair, giving a sharp tug—an alternative to screaming. Everyone from my fellow students to the teachers was predicting some disaster to come from my relationship with Zed. They were all determined to cast him as villain and me as the clueless damsel about to get herself in distress. Nelson was perpetually worried, muttering dire warnings about what he’d do to Zed if things went wrong. I’d had coded advice from various female members of staff about not allowing myself to be pushed further than I wanted to go. I already had enough pessimistic thoughts myself; hearing them echoed by others was sapping my confidence.

‘On your own again, Sky?’ called Mrs Hoffman as I arrived back from school.

‘I expect so.’

‘Want to come in for a while? I’ve baked brownies.’

‘Thanks, but I’ve … er … got homework to do.’

‘Then I’ll bring some over.’

‘That’d be great.’

I’d got the hang of managing Mrs Hoffman now. You never went into her house unless you had a good hour to spare as it was impossible to break out of a conversation with her no matter how you wriggled like Houdini with the chains too tight. On your own territory, it was a bit easier and she always respected the demands of scholarship when offered as an excuse.

She left when I got out my text books. Munching on one of her biscuits, I went up to my bedroom to finish my history assignment.

Sky, are you OK?

After weeks of resisting, I’d finally had to admit that I could hear him in my head. Zed? I looked out of the window, half expecting his car to be on the street. Where are you?

At home. Do you want to come over?

How did you …? No wait: how are we talking like this, so far apart?

We just can. Do you want to come?

A choice between sitting at home on my own or braving Zed’s family?

Mom’s in Denver. Yves’s at some Young Einstein of the Year convention. It’s just me, Dad, and Xav.

OK, I’ll come over. You’re up by the cable car, right? I think I can find you. I started downstairs, tugging my jacket off the newel post.

No! I don’t want you out alone—it’s getting dark. I’ll come get you.

I’m not afraid of the dark.

I am. Humour me.

He shut the conversation off. I sat on the bottom step of the stairs and massaged my temples. It seemed harder to talk this way to him over a greater distance, more tiring somehow. Another thing I had to ask him about.

I heard the jeep ten minutes later. Slinging my jacket on and grabbing my keys, I ran out of the house.

‘You must have broken every traffic law to get here so fast!’

He gave me a smooth smile. ‘I was already on the way when I called in.’

‘You think that’s calling in?’ I climbed into the passenger seat and we headed off back through town. ‘You could use a cellphone like other people.’

‘The reception’s bad out here—too many mountains.’

‘That’s the only reason?’

His mouth quirked at the corners. ‘No. It brings you, well, closer.’

I’d have to think about that one. ‘Do you talk to anyone else this way?’

‘My family. We’ve the lowest phone bills in the valley.’

I laughed. ‘Can you talk to your brothers in Denver?’

He put his right arm on the back of my seat, brushing the nape of my neck in passing. ‘Why all the questions?’

‘Sorry to break it to you, Zed, but it’s not exactly normal.’

‘It is for us.’ He turned up the track running along the side of the ski lodges leading to his house. ‘I’m going to pull over.’

‘Why? What’s the matter?’

‘Nothing’s wrong. I doubt if we’ll have a chance to be alone when we arrive at the house so I just wanted to kiss you.’

I moved back a little. ‘Zed, is this real? You wanting to be with me?’

He unfastened my seat belt. ‘It most definitely is. You are everything I want. Everything I need.’

‘I still don’t understand.’

He rested his head against mine, breath warm in my ear. ‘I know you don’t. I’m trying to give you the time you need, let you get to know me enough so you trust me, trust this.’

‘And the kissing?’

He chuckled. ‘I have to admit that’s for me. I’m selfish that way.’

Zed’s dad met us outside the house, wearing work overalls and carrying a tool box; something about the way he handled himself said he knew what to do with his hands, a natural engineer. The Benedict home was a rambling clapboard lodge painted the colour of vanilla ice cream, snuggled next to the start of the cable car at the top end of town.

‘There you are, Zed.’ Mr Benedict wiped his greasy hands on a rag. ‘I saw you coming.’

For some reason, Zed looked annoyed. ‘Dad!’

‘You know we can’t control these things unless we concentrate. You forgot to shield. Sky, nice to see you again. I don’t think we were properly introduced: I’m Saul Benedict.’

Xavier came jogging round the house. ‘Hi!’

‘Not you too,’ groaned Zed.

‘Why?’

‘Dad saw Sky and me.’

Xavier held up both hands. ‘Innocent. I wasn’t anywhere near your mind, though I can guess what went on.’

‘Don’t go there,’ warned Zed.

‘What does he mean, about being “near your mind”?’ I asked suspiciously.

All three men looked awkward. I could have sworn Saul’s neck flushed.

‘Were you talking to him when we were driving?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘She knows about that?’ Saul said in a low voice. ‘How come?’

Zed shrugged. ‘It just happened. You heard what Mom said about her—she’s a bridge. It’s hard not to step over.’

A bridge? What was that?

Saul waved me to go ahead of him into the house. ‘My son talk to you in your mind, Sky?’

‘Um … maybe.’

‘You’ve not told anyone else?’

‘Well, no. It sounds a bit screwy.’

He looked relieved. ‘We prefer people not to know about it so I’d really appreciate if you kept it to yourself.’

‘Fine by me.’

‘You don’t have a problem with it?’

‘Yes, but I’m more worried when Zed seems to know what I’m thinking before I do.’ Not to mention the soulfinder thing.

Tiny lines deepened around Saul’s eyes—silent laughter. ‘Yes, we all feel that way about Zed. He never did buy the Santa-down-the-chimney story when he was small. But you learn to live with it.’

The house was very welcoming: an eclectic mixture of objects from all over the world scattered throughout the living rooms, strong on Latin America. I got the sense of a family rubbing along well together. I peeked round a corner and saw a huge amount of ski gear cluttering up the utility room.

‘Wow.’

‘Yes, we are serious about our skiing, though Zed here prefers to board,’ said Saul with a fond smile.

‘Public enemy number one,’ commented Xavier pretending to shoot his brother.

‘Boarders and skiers don’t get on?’

‘Not all the time,’ said Saul. ‘You ski?’

Zed must have read the answer in my mind. ‘You don’t?’

‘England isn’t exactly known for its powder snow.’

‘Dad, we have an emergency. Intensive lessons starting from the first fall.’

‘You bet.’ Saul gave me a businesslike nod.

‘I don’t think I’ll be very good at it.’

The three Benedicts shared a look.

Xavier gave a snort of laughter. ‘Yeah, right.’

It was weird—there were definitely things happening here that I couldn’t follow.

‘What is it you’re doing?

‘Just looking ahead, Sky,’ said Saul. ‘Come into the kitchen. Karla’s left pizza for us.’

There were more odd moments over dinner preparation. It started normally but then headed into la-la land. Saul took command of the sink and proved to be a competent salad chef. Xavier claimed that even Zed couldn’t ruin pizza so let him take charge of the oven.

‘His problem is that he sees the food already burnt and can’t be bothered to change things.’ Xavier put his feet up on an empty chair and rubbed his calf muscles. ‘How’s this one going to be?’ he called to his brother.

What did that mean?

‘This is going to be the best ever,’ Zed replied confidently, shoving the baking sheet into the stove.

‘So, Sky, how you finding school? Other students a pain in the butt, I bet?’ Xavier threw a pretzel at his younger brother.

‘It’s OK. Bit different from what I’m used to.’

‘Yeah, but Wrickenridge is way better than lots of high schools. Most kids go on to do what they want after.’

I took a handful of the snacks on the table between us. ‘What about you? I was told you’re good at slalom. Olympic standard good.’

He rolled his shoulders in a shrug. ‘Could be—but I don’t think I’ll take it that far.’

‘Is it because you can see yourself failing and can’t be bothered to change it?’

‘Ouch!’ He laughed. ‘Hey, Zed, your girl here has a mean streak. Getting back at me for ribbing you about your cooking.’

‘Good for her.’ Zed gave me an approving nod. ‘Don’t listen to any of his bull, Sky. I can cook.’

‘Yeah, like Sky can ski.’

A lemon zipped from the fruit bowl and hit Xavier squarely on the nose. I jumped in my seat. ‘What the—!’

‘Zed!’ said Saul in warning. ‘We’ve a guest.’

I was still questioning what I had just seen. ‘You’ve got, like, a poltergeist or something?’

‘Yeah, or something.’ Xavier rubbed his nose.

‘Is anyone going to explain that?’

‘Not me. What were we talking about before I was so rudely interrupted by a flying citrus?’ He chucked the lemon towards Zed but it dropped suddenly halfway back into the bowl. ‘Butthead,’ grumbled Xavier.

‘Um … we were talking about your skiing.’ I looked at Zed but he was whistling innocently as he wiped down the work surface. Too innocently.

‘Oh yeah. Well, I don’t think I’ll go the professional skier route. Got too much else I want to do with my life.’

‘I can imagine.’ But I wasn’t sure he meant it. It felt like an excuse to me.

‘I’m stopping as Colorado junior champion and retiring undefeated.’

‘And never lets us forget it,’ added Zed.

Something weird happened to the lemon at that point: it exploded.

‘Boys!’ Saul rapped on the counter.

‘Sorry,’ they intoned dutifully. Xavier got up to clean away the mess.

‘No explanation, right?’ I asked. They confused me, these Benedicts, but just at the moment I wanted to laugh.

‘Nope, not from me. He’s going to tell you.’ Xavier chucked the rag at Zed. ‘Later.’ He made a sudden dash for the stove. ‘Sheesh, Zed, you’ve let it burn! I thought you said this was going to be the best yet.’ He grabbed oven gloves and dumped a slightly blackened pizza on the side.

Zed took a sniff. ‘It is. Only singed. I’m improving.’

Xavier hit him round the head. ‘What’s the use of being a know-it-all when you can’t even cook pizza?’

‘I ask myself that every day,’ Zed replied good-humouredly, getting out the pizza slicer.

After dinner, Zed suggested we went for a walk in the woods at the side of the ski run to burn off all that melted cheese.

‘Xav’s got clear-up duty as I cooked so we’re free,’ he explained, holding my jacket out for me.

‘Cooked? Is that what you did?’

‘OK. Charred.’

Taking my hand, he led me out of the back door. The house had hardly any garden, just a fence before the end of a ski run and the bottom of the lift. You couldn’t see the peak of the mountain from here, only the steep slope of the forest climbing above the cable car station, firs closely packed to form a carpet. I took a breath, the air cold and dry on the back of my throat, making my skin feel tight across my face. My head felt slightly muzzy, which I put down to the altitude.

‘Up or down?’ Zed asked, gesturing to the slope.

Best to get the worst over with. ‘Up first.’

‘Good choice. I’ve a favourite place I want to show you.’

We passed under the trees. Most of the snow from a light fall earlier in the day had slid off the branches, melting away to reveal the dark green of needles and lighter shade of larch. The air was clear, brilliant like the dazzle of a crystal bringing the stars into sharp relief against the sky, pinpricks of light. We took it slowly, winding our way through the trees. A little higher and we hit snowdrifts, edging down the mountain as winter made its claim.

‘Snow doesn’t stay lower down till around Thanksgiving,’ Zed explained.

We walked on hand in hand for a few more minutes. He gently brushed my knuckles through my glove. I found it strangely sweet that this boy, reputed to be the toughest nut in Wrickenridge, seemed content to walk like this. He was intriguing in his contradictions.

Unless, of course, Tina was right and he was just being what he thought I wanted. Way to go, Sky: how to spoil a lovely moment.

The snow was now ankle-deep and my valley shoes were not doing a very good job at keeping my feet dry.

‘I should’ve thought,’ I grumbled, kicking a clump of ice off my canvas toe cap before it could melt through.

‘My sight isn’t much help for practical stuff like that—sorry. Shoulda told you to bring boots.’

He was one strange boy sometimes. ‘So, what powers do you think you have, aside from the telepathy thing?’

‘Various, but mainly I can see the future.’ He paused at a particularly beautiful spot, a clearing in the forest where the snow lay deep and pristine. ‘Wanna make an angel?’

He dropped it so casually into the conversation, I was still reeling. ‘You go ahead. Don’t let me stop you.’

He grinned as he tumbled back into the deep snow, waving his arms and legs to make an angel shape.

‘Come on—I know you’re going to.’

‘Because you can see?’

‘Nope, because I’m gonna do this.’

He sat up quickly and tugged me down beside him before I had a chance to brace.

Well, now I was here, I had to make an angel, of course. Lying on my back, looking up at the patch of stars, I tried not to let my worries about being a savant and the possible danger coming for me sour the breathtaking beauty of the forest at night. I could feel Zed beside me, waiting for me to make another step towards him.

‘So what can you see?’ I asked him.

‘Not everything and not all the time. I can’t “see” my family’s future, or only rarely. We’re too close—there’s too much interference, too many variables.’

‘Do they do the same thing?’

‘Only Mom, thankfully.’ He sat up, brushing the snow from his elbows. ‘The rest have other gifts.’

‘You’ve seen my future? In that premonition?’

He rubbed a hand over his face. ‘Maybe. But if I tell you exactly what I saw, I might either change things or be the reason it happens—I can’t know that for sure. My sight gets more precise the closer I am to an event. I only know with any certainty something is going to happen a second or two before it does. Yet it can go really wrong. That’s what happened in the raft—by interfering I helped cause what I was trying to stop.’

‘So you won’t tell me if I’m going to be a good skier?’

He shook his head and tapped my forehead. ‘No, not even that.’

‘Good, I think I’d prefer not to know.’

The breeze rustled the branches. The shadows were deepening under the trees.

‘What’s it like? How can you bear knowing so much?’ I asked softly. He was my opposite in many ways: I knew so little about myself, about the past; he knew too much about the future.

Zed got up and pulled me to my feet. ‘Most days, it’s a curse. I know what people are going to say—how the film will end—what the score’s going to be. My brothers don’t really understand, or don’t want to think, what it’s like. We’ve all got our own gifts to handle.’

No wonder he was having problems getting along at school. If he was always ahead of the rest, always knowing, then he would be weighed down by a terrible sense of futility, not being able to change outcomes, like the pizza burning. It made my head hurt just thinking about it. ‘This is all too weird.’

He put his arm round me, tucking me under his shoulder. ‘Yeah, I get that. But I need you to understand. You see, Sky, it’s like, I dunno, I suppose a bit like being in a lift with muzak. It’s playing away in the background but you don’t notice until you pay attention. But from time to time, I get a sudden trumpet burst of things. Scenes play out. I don’t always know the people or understand what they mean. Not until later anyway. I may try and stop things but they usually just happen in a way I didn’t anticipate. I try to block it out—I can for a time—but once I forget it comes back.’

I decided it sounded more like a curse than a gift. He’d be a little ahead of everyone when he tuned in.

Then I realized.

‘You bloody cheater!’ I elbowed him in the ribs. ‘No wonder you are unbeatable when you pitch or kick goals!’

‘Yeah, it does have that fringe benefit.’ He turned to me and smirked. ‘Helped you out, didn’t it?’

I remembered the fluke save. ‘Oh.’

‘Yeah, oh. I sacrificed my perfect goal scoring record for you.’

‘Hardly—you scored, like, twenty or something.’

‘No, really. What are people gonna remember about that match? That I scored loads or that you saved that one? I’m never gonna live it down.’

‘Idiot.’ I swatted him.

He had the gall to laugh at me. ‘That’s done it. I’ll have to distract you again before you hit me a second time.’

As he leant forward to take a kiss, he abruptly lunged, knocking me backwards. A tree trunk splintered five feet behind us. Simultaneously, I heard a report like a car backfiring.

Zed dragged me behind a fallen tree trunk and pushed me under, sheltering me with his body. He swore.

‘This isn’t supposed to be happening!’

‘Get off me! What was that?’ I tried to get up.

‘Stay down.’ He swore again, even more colourfully. ‘Someone took a shot at us. I’m getting Dad and Xav.’

I lay quiet under him, my heart pounding.

Crack! A second shot struck the trunk not far above our heads.

Zed slid off me. ‘We’ve got to move! Roll out the other side of the trunk and run for the big pine over there.’

‘Why don’t we just shout to tell them that they’re shooting at humans?’

‘He’s not hunting animals, Sky: he’s after us. Go!’

I squeezed under the trunk, scrambled up and ran. I could hear Zed just behind me—a third shot—then Zed tackled me from behind, his elbow connecting with my eye as we went down. A fourth shot hit the tree in front just level with where my head had been.

‘Damn. Sorry,’ Zed said as stars whirled. ‘Saw that one almost too late again.’

Better stunned than dead.

Yeah. But still I’m sorry. Just stay still. Dad and Xav are hunting our hunter now.

I think there’s more than one.

‘What?’ He lifted his head a fraction to look at my face. ‘How do you know?’

‘I don’t know. I just feel them there.’

Zed didn’t question my instinct and relayed the news to his father.

‘I’ve told him to be careful.’ Zed stayed over me, refusing to let me risk being in the line of fire. ‘It could be a trap to lure him out. We’ve got to get back to the house. There’s a stream just over that ridge. If we get there, we can stay hidden and circle back. OK?’

‘OK. How do we get to it?’

Zed smiled grimly. ‘You’re amazing, Sky. Most people would have lost it by now. We crawl—make like lizards. I’ll go first.’

He slithered on his belly over the ground then dropped over the ridge out of sight. I followed, trying not to think about what it would feel like to get a bullet in the back. It was too dark to see what was down there so I just had to trust him. I slipped head first down the bank, rolled and landed with my butt in icy water.

This way, said Zed.