Prologue

I was eleven when my sister Jessica died.

It was not my first bereavement, or my most upsetting. My father had passed away when I was only three; my eldest brother Jonathon was gone; and just eight weeks before my best friend and cousin, Rosie, had caught a fever and left her parents childless. Death is very common in our city. But this death, Jessica’s death, is the most relevant to my story.

I was sitting on the old tattered rug in our main room, which served as kitchen, dining room, living room and my bedroom all in one. I had been the baby of the whole family since Rosie’s death, and while my mother, aunt and uncle all cooked they also fussed over me, feeding me scraps and chattering to me about school. My mother was noticeably anxious though, that it had been dark outside for a while and the twins were still not back from whatever antics they had been enjoying all day. Jessica was a wild, unpredictable girl, always getting into trouble, and though Rachel was quieter and more nervous, she almost always followed Jess on whatever adventures she conjured up.

The door almost flew open, hitting against the kitchen counter, and one of the girls ran into the house, panting heavily. I could never tell my sisters apart.

My mother turned with a start. “Jessica!” she exclaimed. “Where’s Rachel?”

“It’s Rachel, mum.” She was corrected. It betrayed my mother’s worry, her getting confused like that. She was by far the best at telling one twin from the other, but they were strikingly identical – more so than any other twins I had met – and even fooled their own mother sometimes.

“I’m so sorry, mum.” Rachel almost whispered. “I’m sorry. I tried to – you know what she’s like – never would listen, to anyone. She’s so brave.”

My mum’s grip tightened on the kitchen counter. “What is it, Rachel? What is it, love? Is Jess alright?”

Rachel was in tears by now. “She’s dead. A Beast. She wanted to show her bravery. I tried to stop her going, but she was so set on the idea. And I just couldn’t stop her.”

My mother had gone very pale. “Oh God.” Was all she said. My aunt put an arm around her.

Jessica stopped crying suddenly. “If you wanted, I could go back, try to get the body.”

“No!” mother cried. “Those bastards have taken two of my children already. They will not take any more. Not tonight, at any rate.”

And she retired to the back bedroom to cry for the rest of the night.