I came down to the kitchen wearing clothes much too big for me, jeans and shirt sleeves rolled up, a pair of Zed’s woolly socks on my feet instead of slippers. I was getting used to seeing my parents regard me with that shocked, disappointed expression, the one where I knew I’d let them down but they were too scared to tell me off in case I collapsed on them.

‘Hi, love, ready to come home?’ asked Simon, a touch impatiently, jingling the car keys in his palm.

Zed came up behind, giving me the silent encouragement of his presence.

‘I’d like to stay a while, please. I think they can help me.’ I reached for Zed’s hand at my back.

Sally touched the base of her throat. ‘For how long?’

I shrugged. I hated hurting them. ‘Until I know if this is going to work.’

Karla closed her eyes for a moment, feeling out to the future. She smiled when she looked at me. ‘I honestly think we can help Sky, Sally. Please trust us. We’re just a short drive away. You’ll be able to reach her in a few minutes if you’re worried about her.’

‘Love, are you sure?’ asked Simon.

‘I’m sure.’

Sally hadn’t reconciled herself yet to this separation. ‘But, darling, what can they do for you that we can’t?’

‘I don’t know. It just feels right.’

She hugged me tight. ‘OK, we’ll try it. You’ve got your boy to take care of you then?’

‘Yes, I have.’

Sally nodded. ‘I can see that. If it doesn’t work, don’t worry. We’ll just try something else and keep on going until we solve this.’

‘Thanks.’

My parents reluctantly headed back home leaving me with all nine Benedicts in their kitchen.

‘I like your parents,’ Zed said in a low voice, putting an arm around me. ‘They keep on fighting your corner, don’t they?’

‘Yes. I’m lucky to have them.’ I was very aware of our audience. I was still to meet Uriel—he was the slim dark one standing next to Will, both were eyeing me as if I was an exotic creature. Zed’s soulfinder. The least physically imposing of the Benedicts, Uriel was the one I most feared—the one who could read the past.

Karla clapped her hands. ‘Right, my little ones—’

Little ones? She was the smallest of the family by a long chalk.

‘Breakfast! Trace and Uriel—plates. Xav—knives and forks. Yves and Victor—you make the pancakes. Will—get the maple syrup.’

‘What about Zed?’ grumbled Yves, getting out a mixing bowl.

Karla smiled at us. ‘He’s got his hands full, comforting his girl, and is just where he should be. Sit down, you two.’

Zed pulled me into his lap in the breakfast nook and I sat back to enjoy the show. The most dangerous boys in Wrickenridge were completely different at home. Though Trace and Victor were grown men, they did not dare sass their mother and buckled down to the tasks with everyone else. Not having to hide their powers in front of me, I soon got used to seeing the Benedicts summon things they needed, floating it to hand. It was fascinating. I realized I could see them doing it. The power showed up to me as a white light, very faint, like a thread. I had to concentrate or I missed it. I wondered if I could do the same thing. I watched as Trace levitated an egg from the box and then, giving in to impulse, I imagined lassoing it with my own power. To my utter shock, the egg veered from his control and zoomed towards us. Zed made me duck just in time. The egg hit the wall behind us and slid to the floor.

‘Who did that?’ shrieked Karla in outrage. ‘Xav? I will not have you throwing eggs at our guest!’

Xav looked most offended. ‘It wasn’t me. Why do you always think it’s my fault?’

‘Because it usually is,’ said Will drily, as he nudged Xav from behind, making him drop the cutlery on the table.

‘Who did it?’ Karla repeated, determined to get an answer.

‘Whoever it is will have the rest of the eggs shoved down their neck,’ growled Zed, putting an arm protectively around my waist.

‘Who?’ repeated Karla, revealing that height was not needed to look scary.

‘Um … I think it was me,’ I confessed.

Zed’s jaw dropped. I discovered that astonishment was coloured glittering silver.

‘I was seeing you do stuff—and wondered if I could do it too. I lassoed the egg.’

Will guffawed, making the cutlery dance into place with a wave of his hand. They bowed to me before arranging themselves neatly.

Saul took a seat at the table. ‘You saw? What does that mean?’

I could feel my cheeks go pink. I wished I could find a button to switch off my propensity to blush. ‘Um … well, moving things—that’s like a white line. I suppose I’m sensing energy or something.’

‘She sees emotions too, Dad,’ Zed added. ‘She can tell if you’re lying.’

‘Very useful.’ Victor looked at me with a calculation I wasn’t sure I liked. He was very low emotion compared to the others, or maybe he was just better at shielding.

I turned my eyes from him. ‘Healing is blue. When Mrs Benedict dipped into the future, she sort of faded a little. I’m not sure about the rest, but I think each power has its own identity.’

What about telepathy? asked Saul.

I flinched, still not liking the feeling that someone else was in my head. ‘I can’t see that—at least, I don’t know what to look for.’

‘It takes the lowest energy of all the gifts when done close to the person you are communicating with. The signs might be too subtle to pick up.’

I rubbed my temples, remembering the pain of talking to Zed at a great distance. Where had I been when I’d done that? The warehouse?

Zed tugged me back against him. ‘Don’t think about it right now, Sky. I can tell it’s hurting you.’

‘Why can’t I remember?’

‘That’s what we’re going to find out,’ Saul said firmly. ‘But after breakfast.’

‘What about school?’ I knew Zed and Yves should have left already.

‘Family powwow—we get to skip classes.’ Yves grinned, putting the first pancake in front of me. His boffin image slipped somewhat when I saw how happy he was to cut school.

‘Like that day, back in September?’ I turned to Zed. ‘You missed a Friday.’

‘Oh that. Yeah. We were helping Trace hunt down the people who shot that family in the drugs deal.’

I remembered now how drained he’d been that Saturday when I’d met him at the ghost town on the hillside.

‘And these family powwows—you get to see what happened?’

‘Yeah, but we get results,’ said Trace, sitting down with his own plate. ‘We got the bas—’ he glanced at his mother’s frown, ‘son of a gun. He’s up for trial early next year.’

‘You mustn’t worry about us, Sky,’ Zed added, knowing my thoughts even though he didn’t have my gift for reading emotions. ‘It’s what we do.’

‘The family business,’ agreed Xav, tipping the maple syrup on to his pancake. ‘The Savant Net working as it should.’

‘And we’re proud of it,’ concluded Victor, tapping the empty space in front of him. ‘Where’s mine?’

A plate containing a freshly cooked pancake hovered in the air towards him. Zed clapped his hands over my eyes. ‘No lassoes.’

I laughed. ‘I promise—no more experiments with food.’

The mood turned sober after breakfast. Saul went out briefly to check his assistants had everything under control on the ski lift, then returned, shaking the snow off his boots.

‘We’re all set,’ he announced. ‘Let’s do this in the family room.’

Zed led me into a space at the far end of the house which doubled as a games room. Trace and Victor moved the table tennis table back while Uriel and Yves gathered floor cushions in a ring.

‘We just want you to sit with Zed,’ Saul said, taking his place opposite me.

‘What are you going to do?’ I was already feeling nervous. What had I let myself in for?

‘We’re treating this like an investigation.’ Trace sat down at my right hand. ‘Which is appropriate because we believe something’s happened to you as a result of a crime.’

‘I do feel like I’ve been brain-mugged,’ I admitted.

‘Each of us is going to use our gift to read you—nothing invasive, just a touch to sense which is the strongest lead.’ Trace flicked his eyes to Zed. ‘I’m gonna need to hold your hand if Zed will let go—I have to be in contact with my subject to allow my gift to work. I should be able to tell where you’ve been recently—before the warehouse. You don’t have to remember; if you were physically there I should be able to track you. Wonder boy here, as the seventh son, he gets to channel it all as he’s the most powerful of us.’

I swivelled to look up at Zed. ‘Is that true?’

‘Yeah, I’m like the screen to display the information. Compare the results. I can see what everyone else is seeing.’

‘And he doesn’t even need batteries,’ quipped Will, slumping down on my other side.

They were making fun of it but I could now understand some of the darkness I’d seen in Zed, the strain of the evil he had been forced to witness. It wasn’t just his own insight but everyone’s that channelled through him, meaning he saw it in all ways and in greater depth than the rest. Little wonder he had felt he was slipping in that ugliness until he found an anchor.

The second son, Uriel, the post-grad student, nudged Will aside.

‘Hi, Sky, we’ve not met properly yet. I’m the only sensible one in the family.’

‘I can see that.’

‘My gift is to read memories, anything to do with the past. I know you’re afraid I might blurt out your secrets, but you mustn’t worry: I can’t force you to show me the past, I can only open doors which you unlock.’

‘I understand.’ I drew strength from feeling the warmth of Zed’s chest against my back as I sat between his legs. ‘And if I want to keep the door closed?’

‘Then you do. But we think that you need to start building up a complete picture of everything that’s happened to you to understand what’s real and what you’ve imagined.’

I frowned. I didn’t like the sound of that.

‘It’s like music, Sky,’ Zed said. ‘Orchestrating the score one instrument at a time. You’ve been running on the melody for a while now and we think you’ve been leaving out the bass, or the foundation notes.’

‘You mean, about what happened when I was little?’

‘Yeah. It’s there.’

Dark spaces. Wonderful seams of pain and abandonment. Who had described me like that?

‘We think that when you’ve seen what’s behind all your doors, you’ll find it easier to close them on others, stop people reading you so easily. In turn, it should give you control over the more recent memories, like discovering the key pieces in a puzzle.’

That was definitely something I wanted, no matter how scared I was of the process. ‘OK, let’s sort me out.’

Mrs Benedict drew the curtains while Yves lit candles around the room with a click of his fingers—this was the guy who could make things explode, I recalled. I was relieved to see the evidence that he had his gift well under control. The candles smelt of vanilla and cinnamon. The house was very quiet. We could hear the distant sounds of people enjoying the slopes, the rumble of the cable car going over the points, the sound of the trees rustling, but in this room, this haven, all was peace. I could feel the different gifts of each Benedict brush me—just a gentle caress, nothing to alarm. Zed kept his arms looped around me, relaxed, unworried.

Xav the healer was the first to speak. ‘Sky, there’s nothing medically wrong with you—I can see no sign of mental illness, though I could feel your distress.’

Zed rubbed the nape of my neck. ‘Not crazy after all.’

‘I can’t read the future clearly,’ admitted Karla. ‘There are many possible paths leading out of this moment.’

‘But I know where she’s been recently,’ Trace said. ‘She’s been in a room in a first class hotel—satin sheets, lots of glass, you touched something made from white leather and a deep pile carpet. It is safe to say you were held somewhere before you ended up in the warehouse. If we got hold of the clothes you were wearing, I could probably tell you more.’

‘The threat’s not gone,’ said Saul, using his gift to sense the predators after us.

Will nodded. ‘I sense more than one person looking for you, Sky.’

I turned to Zed. ‘Did you get all that too?’

‘Uh-huh. I also got that the two in the warehouse were the two who shot at us in the woods that day. O’Halloran was a savant, extraordinarily good at shielding. I wondered if that was why I could feel a layer in your mind—something alien. Did you see that, Uriel?’

Uriel touched my knee comfortingly. ‘Yes, and I think I know what it is even if I don’t know how it got there. Sky, your parents are artists, aren’t they?’

I nodded.

‘You know what sometimes happens to Old Masters? Someone takes them and paints over the surface and you have to strip off a layer to get back to the original? Well, someone has done something similar to your memories.’

That felt right. ‘So what’s the original and what’s the forgery?’

‘That’s where we need to take it back to the base.’

‘Will everyone see?’ It was bad enough bringing out my past for my own eyes; I didn’t want an audience for it.

‘No, just Zed, me, and you,’ Uriel said, his colours pulsing with the gentle pink of compassion. ‘And we won’t tell anyone unless you want us to.’

I really didn’t want to do this but knew I had to.

‘Don’t be frightened,’ whispered Zed. ‘I’ll be there with you.’

‘OK. OK. So what do I do?’

Uriel smiled reassuringly. ‘Just relax and let me in.’

It started out fine. I felt him examining my memories—the ones where I met my adoptive parents and how music helped heal me. I hadn’t buried those. It was when he pushed on the door leading back that I felt fear.

Don’t fight, Zed said. He’s not going to hurt you.

But it wasn’t Uriel I was scared of: it was what lay beyond the door.

Nothing we see there will make us feel any different about you, he assured me.

I could feel waves of calm emotion coming from the other members of the Benedict family; Xav was doing something to reduce my racing pulse.

I took a deep breath. OK.

Uriel pushed the block aside and images began to stream through like a crowd rushing the turnstiles.

A cold night. Seething anger in a car.

‘I’ve had as much as I can take of this kid. She ruins everything!’ A man beating the steering wheel while a hollow-cheeked woman fixed her make-up in the mirror. She looked a bit like me but her skin was really bad, as if she’d not eaten properly for months. The layers of foundation didn’t hide the blemishes.

‘What can I do? I’m the only family she has.’ The woman made kissy noises as she patched up her blood-red lipstick.

A door opened further back in time. Other lips, bubblegum pink, kissing my cheek. My mummy had been Red Lips’s sister. She smelt of light perfume and had a silvery laugh. Her long fair hair brushed my tummy when she leant over to tickle me. I giggled.

The doorbell rang.

‘Stay here, poppet.’ She put up the side of the travel cot.

A rumbling voice in the corridor. Daddy. We didn’t want him to find us, did we, Mummy? Why was he here? I clutched my lop-eared rabbit tight, listening to them in the hall.

‘But you’re not my soulfinder, Ian—we both know that. Miguel is. I’m going to him and you can’t stop me!’ Mummy’s voice was ugly. She was really cross, but she was also scared. I felt scared.

‘What about the child? What about me? You can’t leave England with her!’

‘You never wanted her before—you’re just jealous!’

‘That’s not true. I’m not letting you do this.’

‘I have to be with him. You of all people should understand.’

‘Go then. But I’ll take my daughter with me.’

They were getting nearer. I whimpered. The room was red with anger and the brash gold of love. A shadowy man plucked me from my bed and hugged me to his chest. The mouse nightlight exploded—bulb fragments flying.

‘Mouse!’ I screamed.

Mummy was shaking with anger. ‘You lost Di too young—lost your soulfinder—and I’m really, really sorry, Ian. But against all the odds, I found mine after I’d given up and I have to go to him. Now just put her down!’

Daddy squeezed me tighter. He was shaking. ‘Why should I be the one left with nothing, Franny? I won’t stand for it.’ As she moved to take me back, he threw his hand towards her and my books leapt off the shelf, bombarding her.

The carpet began to smoke under his feet. I sobbed.

‘Stop it, Franny. You’ll set the whole bloody house on fire!’

‘You’re not taking her from me!’ Mummy’s temper flared and my bed went up in flames. ‘I won’t leave my baby behind.’ She reached out, tugging at my sleep suit.

The burning bed spun in the air and slammed into her, throwing her into a wall.

‘Mummy!’ I screwed my eyes shut.

I never saw them again.

Another image. Auntie Red Lips had collected me from the hospital. I was the only one to have survived the fire—miraculously floated out of the house by unseen forces and found curled up on the dew-damp grass. Now we lived in a flat. I was still cold, my dress filthy. I was tiny—my head not even reaching the door handles. There was loud music in the main room; I’d been told to keep out of the way so was hiding in the hallway.

‘Don’t look at me like that!’ It was the driver man again; he had a friend with him this time. He kicked out when I didn’t move fast enough. I scurried back, pressing myself against the wall, trying to pretend I wasn’t there. I watched as he passed the other man something and got money in exchange.

‘He cheated you,’ I whispered.

The second man stopped and knelt beside me. His breath was horrible, like fried onions. ‘What you say, little chicky?’ He seemed to find me funny.

‘He lied. He’s pleased he tricked you.’ I rocked to and fro, knowing I was going to be punished but at least He would be too.

‘Hey,’ He said, smile insincere. ‘You’re listening to my girlfriend’s little brat? What she know about anything?’

The onion man took the package out of his pocket and pressed it between thumb and finger, no longer smiling. ‘This pure?’

‘One hundred per cent. I give you my word.’

‘He’s lying,’ I said. The Man’s colours were sickly yellow.

Mr Onion held it out. ‘Thanks, chicky. I want my money back. Your word isn’t worth fifty quid.’

The man handed it back, swearing his innocence.

Next came pain.

Later, I heard Him telling the doctor how I’d fallen down the stairs and broken my arm. I was clumsy. A lie. He’d got angry with me.

Then we were back in the car. Another day. On the move again before anyone got too interested in us. Auntie Red Lips was feeling jittery. She’d been moaning, said He was about to ditch her because of me. She didn’t like me either. I saw too much, she said. Like a witch. Like her stupid, dead half-sister.

‘We could give her to the social services in Bristol, say we can’t cope.’ Auntie glared at me.

‘First rule—never let the authorities even know we exist. We’re not going back to Bristol—we’ve moved on.’ He cut up another car undertaking on the motorway.

‘Since when, Phil?’

‘Since the police busted the Cricketer’s Arms.’

I gazed out of the window at the blue sign—I saw it had a little symbol of a plane at the top. The road was going somewhere, taking off on a jumbo jet. I wished I could. I started to sing. Leaving on a jet plane …

‘That’s it!’ The man indicated, taking us off the road and into a service station. ‘We’re dumping the freak here.’

‘What!’ The woman glanced across at him in bewilderment.

Slime green malice emanated from the man; her colours were dark purple, with a hint of green. It made me feel sick to look at them. I looked at my grubby shorts instead.

‘You’re joking, right?’

‘Wrong. I’m leaving her here. You can either stay with her or come with me. Your choice.’

‘Bloody hell, Phil, I can’t just dump her!’

He pulled over into a space towards the rear of the car park, checking his mirrors nervously. ‘Why not? I can’t operate with her around. Some do-gooder will find her. She’ll be their problem, Jo, not ours. She’s just Franny’s mistake. She should’ve got rid of her. She’s nothing to do with you—with us.’ He leant over and kissed her, his colours a horrid yellow which signalled a big fat lie.

The woman bit her lip. ‘All right, all right, give me a moment. God, I need a drink. Won’t we be traced?’

He shrugged. ‘Car plates are false. If we don’t get out, we won’t be caught on camera. No one in England knows her. Parents died in Dublin—unless they think to check abroad, she’s nobody. Who’s gonna recognize her after all this time? She’s not even got the accent.’

‘So we leave her and someone else looks after her. She doesn’t get hurt.’ Auntie was trying to persuade herself she was doing the right thing.

‘But she will if I have to come back for her. She’s bad for us—ruining what we’ve got.’

Summoning up the courage, the woman nodded. ‘Let’s do it.’

‘We just need a chance to get clear.’ The man turned round and grabbed the front of my T-shirt. ‘Listen, freak, you be quiet, no fuss, or we’ll come back and get you. Understand?’

I nodded. I was so scared I thought I might wet myself. His lights were pulsing a violent red like just before he hit me.

He reached over and opened the door. ‘Now get out and sit over there. Don’t cause trouble.’

I unclicked my belt, used to looking after myself.

‘Are you sure about this, Phil?’ the woman whined.

He didn’t answer, just pulled the door closed. The next thing I heard was the car accelerating away.

I sat down and counted daisies.

When I opened my eyes this time, I wasn’t in a car park, but sitting in the circle of Zed arms, warm, cared for.

‘You saw that?’ I whispered, not daring to look at him.

‘Yeah. Thank God they dumped you before he killed you.’ Zed rubbed his chin lightly over the crown of my head, the hair catching in his stubble.

‘I still don’t know who I am. I don’t think they ever said a name.’

Auntie Jo, Phil, and the freak—that’s what we’d been when I was six. If my mother and father—Franny and Ian—had given me a name, I’d forgotten it. My parents had been savants; they’d killed each other because they hadn’t controlled their gifts, leaving me with a junkie as my guardian. I felt so angry with them for that betrayal.

‘A truth-teller don’t go down too well in the house of a dealer.’ Zed circled my wrists with his fingers, brushing my palms to gentle out my clenched fists. ‘I’ve seen scum like that before working for Trace and Victor. You were lucky to get out.’

As a child, I’d not understood the transaction in the passageway, but I did now. ‘I spoiled things for Phil big time—that man was his best customer. I did that more than once.’

‘And he hurt you more than once.’

I cringed, hating having so much ugly stuff exposed like this before the Benedicts. ‘I think so.’

Zed’s anger was crimson, not directed at me, but out at the one who had dared hurt me. ‘I’d like to get him, make him feel what he did to you.’

‘He was an evil man, using my aunt. She was mostly OK—but couldn’t be bothered with me. I don’t suppose they’re still together.’

‘They’re probably both dead. Drugs and dealing don’t make for long happy lives,’ said Uriel matter-of-factly.

I sagged back against Zed, exhausted and raw. I needed time to put what I’d seen in place, adjust my memories. We weren’t talking about it, but I had to come to terms with what my mum’s obsession about going to her soulfinder had done to us all. It crept like an ugly stain seeping across what I thought I had with Zed. I felt dirtied by it—threatened.

‘You’ve seen enough,’ said Zed. ‘We don’t expect you to remember everything right away.’

‘But we’ve found the foundation,’ said Uriel. ‘We can build on that.’

Looking round at the others in the room, I could tell they weren’t expecting any answers today. Victor and Trace were the most impatient for information but trying to hide it.

‘You need a break. Take the girl snowboarding, Zed,’ said Trace. ‘We’ll make sure you’re safe.’

I pushed away the grim memories with an effort. ‘By break, do you mean I should break a leg, because that’s what’s going to happen if I try to board.’

Trace laughed, the serious cop-face relaxing into a fond smile as he regarded his kid brother. ‘No, Sky, I don’t. He’ll take good care of you.’