The Finder

By Jenni Clarke

What would you do if the person you feared most in the world was yourself?

Gracie is the only Finder in her small town. Her finding ability has prevented her from having friends because the other children do not trust her.

Now at thirteen, she is old enough to enter the Finder Acedemy in London where she will be one Finder amongst many. Her expectations of being the same as her peers and making friends are high.

However she has a secret. Keeping the secret will make friendship difficult. Admitting the secret will destroy any chance she has of a normal life.

Gracie's solution is simple, but the consequences are not. 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jenni Clarke
• Release date: Nov 17, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215351833

Jenni Clarke

Jenni Clarke lives in a quiet corner of France where she indulges in her love of reading, writing and her forest garden. When not binging on words or plants you may see a flash of blue or pink lycra as she explores mountainous roads on her bicycle and stops to admire stunning views (not because she is out of breath.)

Book preview

Dedicated to all those who have never been found after a disaster.

May you rest in peace.

One

The last drip of energy leaves my body as I lean my head and hands against the warm metal. It’s not fair. All this way, and the gates are closed. I search the etched spiral lines and intertwined pathways, finding animal shapes and faces but no handle, latch, or button to press. I force the lump in my throat to remain where it is. I’m not going to arrive at the academy tear-stained and red-nosed. My head spins and my legs tremble.

‘Hello. Can anyone see me? Please let me in.’ My voice is swept away by a gust of wind, which stirs the trees hiding the river, and I remember the whispering sound from my last visit, eight years ago, when I was five.

The gates were open then, leading onto the wide bridge. My parents, eager to have me assessed, to prove they’d not been cheating our neighbours, strode past them without a glance. I wanted to touch and trace the patterns and to peer through the railings into the deep green river below. I wanted to see the big silver fish. Only small ones swam in the stream that flowed past our home. My wants were ignored, as usual. A stern shout had snapped my legs into action, and I ran past children who clutched their parent’s hands, pointed, and squealed in excitement. My imagination had filled in the gaps.

This time I’m alone.

There is no-one to hurry me. I could trace the patterns with my fingers or watch the fish for as long as I like. Except my body is shaking from the three-day journey and the gates are closed, so I can’t peer over the side of the bridge. Maybe I should’ve found a quicker way. I shake my head. Getting here in three days by travel-share was impressive. I sigh and remember a very different journey by air-train.

It had been a wonderful journey, despite forcing myself to remember I’d chosen to be an object-finder and nothing else. I pretended to get lost when I needed the toilet, sat still when a man left his wallet in the side of the seat near the door, and I ignored the ghosts. I had glued my five-year-old face to the window and observed the world rushing below. I remember the smooth ‘whoosh’ as we flew above animals in the fields. They munched meadow grass, glancing up at us, pretending not to be interested in the silver shimmer passing overhead, but their curiosity sprayed out like water droplets from a sprinkler.

I had imagined how different it must have been when trains ran on the ground and thundered through tunnels rather than glided over the hills. Even at five, I would’ve enjoyed the darkness and the sound of the wheels on the tracks echoing through a tunnel. I loved it when the train sped and the world became a blur, but I also wanted to slow time. I imagined living in the tiny two-level house on a hill, running through the fields of crops swaying in the wind and climbing to the top of the info poles which stretched high into the atmosphere. When we had flown across and through towns, the circular solar tubes and triangular roofs with their shiny solar panels made patterns in the green, tree-covered land. I thought about stories of when houses were built above the ground with no space for trees and grass. Buildings had touched the sky, and I had loved their name, skyscrapers. How did the people who lived and worked in those tall buildings cope with the dizzying height as they spied on the world from above? My little head had almost burst with questions, and I promised myself I would travel the world by air-train if the people at the academy said I was a finder – and not the crazy kid as the children in my town whispered.

I shake my memories away and stagger over to the whispering trees. The long, leafy branches sweep the grass. The shade and soft moss behind the curtain of light green leaves looks inviting. I push a frond aside, finding a private space. My legs fold. I yank my bag from my back, shivering at the cool dampness of my t-shirt, and flop onto my stomach. An earthy scent fills my nose, and I sense many small creatures. I squeeze my eyes shut, ignoring the empty ache in my stomach, but fail to stop the lump in my throat from climbing to my eyes and pouring down my cheeks.

A shout drags me from my sorrow. Lifting my head, I see a boy, taller than me but probably my age, with two adults.

‘Stay there. I’ve got this.’ He runs forward, placing the palms of his hands onto the gate. ‘Edward Smarts,’ he says clearly and steps back. The man steps forward and ruffles the boy’s dark hair, and the woman smiles as she tucks in his white shirt. Edward laughs as the gate opens silently, and they enter the finder academy.

My name? All I had to do was say my name? I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid. I groan and use the tree trunk to pull myself up. I brush at the grass and moss on my clothes but then shrug. The green stains match the dirt and creases from sleeping on benches at the travel-share offices. I run my fingers through my hair, feeling the leaves and twigs caught in my curls. It’ll take too long to pull them all out. I take a tissue from my pocket, blow my nose, and know I’m going to make a poor impression on my first day.

Walking back to the gate, I see two flat leaf shapes within the pattern. Why didn’t I see them before? I place my palms on the metal. It glows.

‘Gracie . . .’ My voice croaks. I cough and pull my weary muscles upright. This is meant to be a happy day. It is a happy day. I’m entering the finder academy. I smile, although my cracked lips smart.

‘Gracie Hart.’ My voice is clear and strong.

The gate opens.

I hurry through onto the bridge and peer down into the green river below. I see a forest of weeds with silver fish waving their tails in patches of sunlight, but a yawn overwhelms me. It’s not as thrilling as I thought it would be, but then, I’m not five anymore.

I turn and face the path which winds through an avenue of trees and sweeps up to the left. I remember seeing the academy from that high point and drag my heavy legs up the hill. This time I prepare myself for the sight of a building above ground.

It steals my breath. I thought my imagination had exaggerated the scale of the academy over the past eight years, but I was wrong. The huge building towers over me, although I’ve yet to arrive at the entrance. I follow the path down to a set of wide stone steps leading to an archway large enough for a fat giant to waddle through. Square towers frame each side with five levels of arched windows, some with balconies. The building continues away from both sides of the entrance, the walls curving into the distance.

This place will swallow me whole. A shiver of anticipation and fear travels up my spine. No. I shake my head. Here, I’ll be safe. Here, being a finder means I’ll be the same as every other student.

Ordinary, normal Gracie.

Someone bumps my arm with their bag, mumbling an apology as they pass me and walk confidently through the dark opening. I straighten my shoulders. I can do this.

‘Hey you.’

My head snaps forward.

A tall girl with short black hair and immaculate clothes glares at me. ‘This is private property. I don’t know how you got in, but . . .’ She sighs, taking in my dishevelled appearance and tear-stained cheeks. ‘Come on, I’ll walk you back to the gate.’

‘But—’

‘I’ve a stray.’ She speaks into a band on her wrist. ‘Poor love, she looks like she belongs in an orphanage. I’ll walk her to the bridge . . . No, Gracie hasn’t arrived yet.’

‘I’m Gracie,’ I say.

She smiles at me, but her eyes show pity. ‘Yeah, right.’

‘My name is Gracie Hart. I’m an object- finder.’ I hold my hand out to her, but she flinches.

‘You’re joking, right?’

‘No.’

‘Nice try, girlie, but you’re too young. Come back in a few years.’ She puts her hand on my shoulder.

I push her away and scowl. ‘I’m almost fourteen.’

‘Are you seeing this?’ She holds her arm up, and a face flickers into the air.

‘Yes. I can confirm she is Gracie. Welcome, Gracie, and sorry for the misunderstanding.’ The face disappears. ‘Julia, bring her straight to my office.’

Julia looks away, mumbles a sorry and leads me through the stone archway and into the courtyard beyond.

Two

Julia’s strides are long, but I manage to keep up. Wooden seats and large pots of brightly coloured flowers line the edges of numerous pathways. Apart from the colour of the flowers, this matches my memory exactly. On two sides, rain-smoothed stone buildings feature latticed windows in neat lines. On the other two sides, the walls are a mixture of wood and red brick, with windows dotted haphazardly, as if each part had been added at a different time. In front of me lies another square tower. The door opens, and a fair-haired woman hurries out. She glares at Julia and looks at me, eyebrows raised in surprise. Maybe I didn’t look as dirty on the wristie screen.

‘Hello, Gracie.’ She holds an elegant, clean hand towards me.

I hide mine behind my back, pretending to adjust my bag.

‘I’m Sylvie, one of the teachers here at the academy. Did you say goodbye to your parents at the gate?’

‘No. I came alone.’ I push a stray curl behind my ear and attempt to stand straight.

‘Gracie Hart.’ She taps her lip with an elegant finger. ‘Of course. No, they wouldn’t want to come here.’ She frowns. ‘I hope they learnt their lesson and you’ve not been finding for people?’ There is an edge to her voice but she is not a truth-finder.

‘It was a misunderstanding. It was my party trick.’ My stomach clenches at this twisted truth, and my thoughts drift back.

I was not aware I was different until my fourth birthday.

One of my neighbours lost their key card in our house. I remember them being upset as it was costly to replace. I frowned, trying to understand what they meant by lost. I’d never lost anything. I suppose I didn’t have much to lose. I can’t remember the neighbour’s name, but she had long grey hair pulled into a braid, and her face was creased from smiling. I didn’t like seeing her sad, so I trotted to the bathroom to get her card. Everyone in the room clapped and smiled at me when I returned, and I was given sugars wrapped in bright blue paper. It became a party game, people ‘losing’ things and me running to find them. It was fun at first, but after a while my legs were tired, and my head ached.

‘Gracie, love, once more for Mummy.’

‘Once more for Daddy.’

I found objects belonging to my parents instead of the ‘lost’ objects I’d been sent to find. The smiles and sugars stopped, and I was sent to bed. I don’t remember playing with any children, presents or food, but I guess that must have happened too.

From then, my parents proudly spoke of ‘their little finder,’ making me feel special. I was invited into everyone’s home, and securing a babysitter was not a problem for my parents anymore. They started going away more often.

My parents, blinded by their pride – and maybe the envelopes pressed into their hands – encouraged me to say yes to any requests local people made, without always checking what they wanted me to find. I was only a child. I didn’t know it was wrong.

A hungry growl echoes in the courtyard as my stomach protests its emptiness, and I blush.

‘Gracie?’ Sylvie has stepped closer, and a frown creases her face. I think she has called my name more than once.

‘Sorry.’ I straighten my sagging knees.

‘No, I’m the one who should apologise. You’ve obviously had quite a journey then were almost turned away, and now I’m questioning you in the doorway.’ She shakes her head and smiles. ‘Julia will take you to your room so you can freshen up.’ She plucks a leaf from my hair. ‘She’ll wait in your study until you're ready and then give you a little tour.’ She turns to Julia. ‘Start with the food hall.’

I don’t protest when she peels my grubby bag from my shoulder and hands it to Julia, who grimaces but doesn’t argue.

‘This way, Gracie.’ Julia pushes open the large wooden door.

I focus on my bag, which she holds away from her body, and I notice her arm is shaking with the effort. I find the energy to keep up with her long steps, but it’s a relief when she stops after we have climbed two sets of stairs.

‘This is the room you’ll share with three others.’

She steps to the side, and I walk into a square room filled with light from large windows. I walk past the sofa and study tables to peer out.

‘Two of the bedrooms are taken, but you can choose this one . . .’ She touches a wooden panel, and it swooshes sideways. ‘Or this one.’ She opens another door.

I peer in them both and choose the room with floor-to-ceiling windows opening onto a covered balcony.

‘You have your own bathroom through here.’ Julia points at a door and places my bag on the bed. ‘I’ll wait in the study area.’

I nod.

‘Oh.’ She points to a flashing band on the bedside cupboard. ‘That’s yours. A welcome gift. You can programme it to match your skin tone.’ She touches the band on her wrist, and it disappears. When she tilts her arm towards me, I can see a faint shadow. ‘Or to match your clothes.’ She touches her arm, and the band reappears, matching the blue of her skirt.

‘Thank you,’ I say. When the door closes, I fall face down onto the bed. I want to scream. Too much is new and different. I want to sleep, but my stomach won’t let me. I don’t think Julia will either. I stagger to the bathroom and laugh. It’s bigger than the main room at home. Hundreds of tiny lights sparkle in the walls and ceiling. The large bath with a screen of symbols is tempting, but my stomach says a shower will do.

My nose crinkles as I peel off my socks. I leave my clothes in a heap on the clean floor and step into the shower cubicle. It’s mirrored, and I groan. No wonder Julia thought I was a lost orphan. I’ve muddy streaks tracking down my cheeks, a tangled mass where my hair should be, and red-rimmed eyes.

I search the cubicle but see no visible controls.

‘Think, Gracie, think.’

A screen lights up with a choice of temperature and spray, and a slot opens containing a variety of soaps and shampoo.

‘Okay. So you’re voice activated but touch controlled.’ This is so far away from the basic shower room at home, and the number of choices chase around in my brain until I am dizzy with indecision. I touch the ceiling symbol for medium power and what I hope is medium temperature.

The water falls and I relax. I chose well.

I brush most of the tangles from my hair and try to smooth my clean clothes with my hands. Using my bag as a pillow on the way here was a bad idea. I shrug. I’m clean and hungry. I open the door.

‘You look . . . better.’ Julia scrunches her nose at my skirt and top and shrugs. ‘After the food hall, I’ll show you where to take your clothes for cleaning.’

‘Thanks.’

The cold rinse in the shower had restored my energy, and I’ve no problems striding alongside her. We enter a large room crowded with tables and chairs. Light pours in through enormous windows along one side. Tall etched-glass doors open onto a terraced area, where brightly coloured parasols create puddles of shade on more tables and chairs.

The buzzing chatter and clink of cutlery echoes in my ears as Julia guides me to a long white worktop inset with silver containers. As lids are lifted, delicious aromas rise in steamy clouds, and my nose quivers. Most of the food I don’t recognise. It’s colourful and smells rich with spices. Food to try another day. I look for something I can eat quickly. A thick tomato soup, cheese, and bread. The bread roll is warm in my hand, and my mouth waters. My teeth bite through the crispy crust, and a moan escapes. I’ve never tasted anything this good. I pick up the tray.

‘Outside or inside?’ Julia places another roll on my tray and smiles at me.

‘Outside.’ Crumbs escape my mouth, but I let them fall.

‘Go pick a table, and I’ll get us a drink. You want anything special?’

I swallow my mouthful of bread. ‘Something fruity and cold, please.’ My arms shake with the weight of the food-laden tray. I concentrate on placing one foot in front of the other until I reach the safety of an empty table. Soup drips down the side of the bowl as the tray tilts.

Julia grabs the edge. ‘Whoa there. Sorry, I should have carried it for you. Thought you were strong. Your bag wasn’t light.’ She places a tall ice-frosted glass next to me and sits down. ‘Why were you so dirty? Did you get off the air-train at the wrong stop and walk or something?’

My mouth is stuffed with food, so I shake my head and swallow before taking a sip of the cool liquid in the glass. Sweet apple juice with a tangy edge. I catch the last drop from the corner of my mouth and suck it off my finger.

Julia grimaces. ‘More?’

‘Please.’ I hope she’ll forget her question when she returns with another drink. She doesn’t.

‘So?’ She leans back and crosses her arms.

‘I came by travel-share. It took me three days.’ I continue to eat.

‘Travel-share? On your own? Why? The academy pays for the air-train fare. Didn’t your parents know that?’

‘Probably.’ I shrug and finish my soup.

She looks at me with pity. I don’t want pity.

‘It was fine, and an experience. And . . .’ I shrug. ‘I’m here now. Are you going to show me everything?’

Julia laughs. ‘Ha, no. This place is as big as it looks. I’ll show you what you need to know for now. There’s a map on your wristie.’

I rub my arm. ‘I forgot to put it on.’

‘You don’t need it when I’m with you. I’ve been here two years.’

‘What finding do you do?’

‘Object-finding, like you.’ She stands up and takes my tray to a set of shelves in the hall. ‘Always remember to put your tray here.’ She leans close and whispers. ‘If you don’t, you’ll get kitchen duty.’

She’s lying, but I laugh. It was a joke. She takes me back to the bottom of the stairs which lead to my room. ‘Think you’ll be able to find your way to the food hall from here?’

‘Down there.’ I pointed the way we’d come. ‘Turn right, past some doors to outside, then left.’

‘You’ve a good sense of direction. That’ll help you. Some parts of the academy are easy, like this, the main building. Others don’t make sense at all. You’ll find you have to go up to go down and go left to find the room on the right of the building.’

‘Good job we’re all finders then,’ I say.

A frown flickers across her face.

‘Where are we going now?’ I ask, wondering what I’d said wrong.

‘To the object-finder teaching rooms and common room. We could go up the stairs we passed, but it’s quicker to go outside.’ She opens a door, and we walk down a short flight of steps before turning into a rose garden. Statues are hiding in the fragrant flowers.

‘Julia, can we stop? I’d like to see the statues.’

She frowns and glances at her wristie. ‘It’s better if we go straight there. It’ll be easier for you to find again if you don’t get distracted on the way.’

I shrug and walk with her. We pass through several walled gardens before turning back towards the main building. Two wide modern doors open as we approach. On the ground floor are offices but we enter a lift and ascend to the third floor.

‘These are the most important rooms for you. Here you will learn to become a proper finder.’

I run my fingers through my hair. ‘Why do we have to wait so long before coming here?’

Julia looks at me and sighs. ‘There’d be no point coming when we’re younger, would there?’ She shakes her head. ‘Our abilities need time to mature. You’ve so much to learn.’

‘But . . .’

Julia gives me the look I’ve come to know well. I thought it’d be different here.

Soon after being declared a finder, I started school with the local children, including my ‘no-longer best friend’ from the next-door building. I’d thought I looked normal, but I soon learnt looks weren’t everything. The other children treated me with an edge of fear. I don’t know what their parents had said or what they remembered from my visits to their houses. Visits when I didn’t have time to play with them because I’d been finding. Maybe they’d been scared I’d find out their secrets. I could’ve done, if I’d wanted to, but I didn’t because I’d made up my mind to be an object-finder.

However, being a finder wasn’t my only problem. When I watched their games and listened to their chatter, I was bored. I love ideas and puzzles and knowledge. I kind of soak it all up like a sponge, seemingly without any effort. When I asked questions, I was rarely satisfied with the answers. They were too simple or led to new questions.

My teachers called my curious nature disrespectful and disruptive. Sometimes I knew stuff I hadn’t yet been taught, and if I didn’t see the warning frown, I’d be sent out of the room to quieten my brain or be told to visit the head teacher. I’m sure the other children wouldn’t have noticed this peculiar trait of mine if the adults hadn’t reacted the way they did. As the years at school passed, I developed a thicker skin, telling myself I didn’t care what the other children thought of me. I learnt to hold my head high and ignore the stares and deliberate mentioning of parties I’d not been invited to.

‘Gracie?’ Julia is shaking my arm. ‘Are you okay. D’you want to go back to your room?’

‘Um, yes. No, I can find my way. Thanks.’

‘You’re asleep on your feet. Getting lost won’t help. You haven’t got your wristie.’ She tapped her arm.

‘I’m fine.’ I yawn. ‘I can always find my way home.’

Her eyes widen. ‘Always?’

‘Can’t you?’ My tone echoes hers. We stare at each other.

‘You ever been lost, Gracie?’

‘No.’ My heart is beating fast. Please don’t let me be different again. ‘Is it not a finder thing? Knowing how to get home?’

She smiles. ‘Yeah, sort of.’ Her wristie flashes. ‘Hi, Arabells, I’m gonna be late.’

‘Can’t you send her off with the map? We’ve been waiting ages.’ I frown at the bitchy tone coming from her wristie.

‘No. I’ll tell you later.’ She turns to me. ‘I forgot. I have to take you to Sylvie’s office before you go back to your room. It’s this way.’

Three

‘I was showing Gracie around like you asked.’ Julia beckons me into the room, but I hesitate. ‘She’s registered as an object-finder. Right? I think she’s a path-finder too.’

My feet freeze in the doorway, and I wince as my nails dig into my palms. A bead of sweat rolls down between my shoulder blades.

‘And why would you think that?’ Sylvie steps forward, gently takes my arm and guides me to a chair.

‘We were in the object-finder’s building, and she looked like she was falling asleep. I asked if I should take her back to her rooms, but she said she can always find her way home. She’s never been lost.’ Julia’s voice squeaks.

‘She comes from a very small town, Julia.’ Sylvie sits on the arm of my chair. She doesn’t seem convinced.

I hold my breath in hope. I’m guessing object-finders do get lost.

‘Well.’ Julia fiddles with her beaded necklace. ‘I told her I had to bring her here and started to lead the way. I waited at every junction, and she knew which way to turn.’ Julia shook her head. ‘She doesn’t have her wristie, and she’s dead tired.’

I drag the thickening air into my lungs. I’m getting the feeling finders don’t normally choose which type of finder they will be.

‘Thank you, Julia, for your thoughtfulness. You were right to bring her to me with your observations. Please don’t share this with anyone else.’

Julia wrinkles her nose. ‘But—’

‘I’ll inform you if your hunch is correct, and you will gain the credit.’

‘Thank you, Sylvie.’ Julia grins and waves to me. ‘Bye, Gracie.’

The room is quiet, and sadly I don’t vanish into a wished-for hole.

Sylvie stands, pulls another chair close and sits down opposite me.

‘I read the notes from your assessment. You showed some inconsistencies. This is common when finding begins at a young age, but it can be a sign of more than one finding ability.’

I bite my lip.

‘Don’t look so scared, Gracie. It’s a good thing to have two specialities.’

I blink.

‘If you’re not too tired, I’d like to assess you now.’

‘Um, no. I don’t think I am. A two-finder I mean. I’ve a good sense of direction, that’s all.’

‘Gracie, what are you afraid of?’

I shake my head and tears fall.

She passes me a box of tissues. ‘We’ll leave this until tomorrow morning. Go and enjoy a good night’s sleep, but come here after you’ve eaten breakfast.’

She doesn’t offer to take me to my room. It’s not a problem.

I stand outside the door to the shared room and sigh in relief. No one’s home. The door opens at a touch, and I hurry through, pressing the privacy button on my door pad and sinking onto the bed. I kick off my shoes and wriggle out of my clothes as fast as possible before snuggling beneath the covers. My body craves sleep, but my mind is whirring.

What am I afraid of? The same thing I was afraid of at five, until I came to the academy for an assessment, and they told me I was normal. Looks like they lied. I allow memories to flow, hoping they will overpower my fear.

As soon as we got home from visiting the academy, I had run to the washroom and stood in front of the mirror. I wanted to check out this ‘normal’ girl I’d been told I was. The five-year-old girl in the mirror had hands clenched into fists. I relaxed them and shook out the pins and needles from my long fingers with their short, smoothed nails. My reflection copied every movement. I remember staring at my nails. My parents had insisted I stop biting them before we went to the academy, and they had dipped my hands in a disgusting tasting liquid. They said a finder needed nice hands. Which