“You are hungry. Sit down.” The dark boy gestured toward the far end of the table, his voice bored and patronizing. Fargus trudged to the other end and climbed into his chair/canoe. As soon as his bottom had touched the seat, a bell rang and several large men entered with food and drink.
There was stuffed goose and ham and pheasant. There were potatoes in various fashions—mashed, roasted, and au gratin. There were peas and beans and long cobs of sweet corn. The men poured wine for the prince and tea for Fargus, and then they added desserts to the table—pomegranate pudding and dark chocolate treacle surprise.
Fargus stared at the feast in front of him. Each one of these dishes was a favorite of his, but he didn’t trust the food. Something in this room was dangerous, and Fargus didn’t know what it was yet. Fear rose to his throat and left only bile. He knew if he took even one bite of food, he would ralph all over the table.
He looked at the silver pitcher of water sitting in the middle of the long table. One of the servants saw his wistful gaze and immediately fetched it for him. He poured a glass for Fargus, who gulped down every last drop. The glass was refilled immediately and Fargus drank it. This was repeated four times. Finally Fargus felt he was full and he sat back and crossed his arms in satisfaction.
The boy in black stared at him, bemused. He, too, had not eaten any of the feast. Instead he had watched Fargus enjoy his water. He smiled his same snarky grin and began to laugh. “I have been inviting children to dine here for years and this is the first time any of them has chosen to gorge himself on water. What is your name?” Fargus stared at him silently. “No matter, I know it already. I was just being polite. It’s Fargus.” Fargus’s eyes bulged in surprise. “Oh yes, I know everything, really. Care to test me?” Fargus looked down at his empty water glass.
The boy continued, barely missing a beat. “You are a person of few words. I like that. Everyone else comes in here and just yammers away at me while they choke themselves on my food. It is very unpleasant. You would hate it. But why waste words and time? Let’s move on to more interesting topics. I have one I think you will enjoy very much. It’s called ‘The story of the careless family who lived in a lighthouse.’ The beginning is a little boring, but I think you’ll find the end very engaging.” Fargus looked straight into the boy’s cold, black eyes and realized with horror that he was sitting with the only person in the world who knew his parents’ fate.
This pale boy dressed in black was the Master.
TWENTY-FIVE
Josephine caught up with Ned and he led her smugly out of the forest and into Gulm. Ned gave her his cap and told her to keep her head down and not draw any attention to herself. Everyone around them was busy with their own tasks. Men polished windows outside of shops, rearranged merchandise, and triple-checked cash registers. Women set up vegetable stands, and bakers kneaded dough behind flour-dusted windows.
Ned smiled and waved at several people who knew him. Josephine felt their eyes upon her, so, as instructed, she looked down at the cobblestone streets, careful to hide her face. She was relieved no one had confronted them, and just as she was about to breathe easier, someone called out to Ned, a plump woman with a face as red as exposed brick.
“Ned, oh, Neddy! I have sweet potatoes for your pa, sweet pea.” She came out from behind her vegetable stand with considerable effort and walked toward them with a paper bag in hand. “I’ve been saving them for him special. I know they’re his favorite.”
Josephine cast a nervous glance at Ned, who had plastered on a big fake smile. “Thanks, Beatrice.” He took the paper bag and started walking on, but Beatrice hit him playfully on the shoulder, almost knocking him into a fruit stand. “So when is your pa going to let me come over and cook those up for him properly?”
Ned regained his balance and peeked quickly at Josephine. Beatrice caught the look and noticed Josephine for the first time. Her eyes widened when she realized that she had never seen this girl before. Strangers were a rarity in Gulm, especially children.
“Neddy? Who is—?”
“We really have to be going, Beatrice. Thanks for the potatoes.” He tried to walk away, but Beatrice grabbed him and said, a little too loudly, “Nice seeing you, Ned. You come by later if you need anything.”
She released Ned and squeezed herself back behind her food stall, and Ned and Josephine walked away, waving casually as they went. “That was lucky,” Ned mumbled. “She’s so smitten with my father, she won’t tell anyone she saw you.” They walked out of the market and onto a broader street.
Josephine was confused. “But what about your mother?”
When he spoke, Ned’s voice was strained. “She left us a long time ago.”
There was an awkward silence until Josephine blurted, “My mother’s gone too.”
“Really?” Ned replied. He was the only child he knew who didn’t have a mother.
“She died.” Josephine wasn’t sure she had ever said that out loud before. She and her father had never spoken about her mother after she’d gone.
“What happened?” Ned asked.
“She got sick. Pneumonia.”
“Wow. That’s even worse than mine leaving.” He said this and then immediately regretted it. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. I was young. I barely remember her.”
“But you’ve still got your father, right? He must be worried sick about you,” Ned said matter-of-factly.
Josephine frowned. She wondered if her father was worried. How long had it taken him to even notice she was missing? Her deepest fear was that he was relieved she was gone. “Where are we going?” she asked, suddenly wanting to change the subject.
Ned pointed to a dark alley leading off the main street, and Josephine felt her nerve starting to waver. She could only hope that this time she was trusting the right person. This was her last chance to run away. But where in the world to?
TWENTY-SIX
The Master wore an oily, sinister grin and picked at a cold piece of goose on the table.
Fargus felt the anger rise from his center. All his life he had suppressed the hatred inside himself, hatred for the unknown man who had taken his family away. As Fargus stared at this pint-size boy, he began to see a blinding white. He jumped from his seat and raced for the Master’s throat. The servants were upon him in seconds and the Master laughed. “Ha! Well done! Exactly as I would have done it.” He dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a napkin. “We really must work on your rage, Fargus.” Fargus struggled to free himself from the two servants. “I know you are angry with me—in fact, you probably blame all of your problems on me—but let’s be honest, shall we? Why is it that my ship went adrift? Was it my fault? Or someone else’s? In fact, Fargus, wasn’t it your fault?”
Fargus stopped struggling. He knows? How could he know?
As if reading his mind, the Master said, “I told you. I know everything that happens within my domain. And anyone that looks at you can see the guilt that lurks behind those soppy brown eyes. Would you like to scream, Fargus? I mean, really scream? Why don’t you give it a go?” Fargus stared daggers at him.
The Master gave a signal to one of the servants, who grabbed a candle and brought it near. Another servant grabbed Fargus’s arm and forced him to hold out his left hand. The man holding the candle brought it closer, dipping the flame beneath Fargus’s exposed palm.
As the flame got closer, Fargus tried to ignore the pain and keep a stony expression; he was determined to defy the Master. But soon he felt as if his whole hand were on fire, and he could actually smell his flesh beginning to burn. It was unbearable.
And then he couldn’t hold it in anymore.
He opened his mouth and screamed. The sound that emerged was barely human; it was deep and guttural and could have come only from the throat of someone who hadn’t made a sound in five years. “Gggguuuaaaahhhrrrggg!” Once he started, he couldn’t stop. He was sickened that the Master knew his horrible secret but also relieved to finally be able to let it out—the years of pent-up anger and self-loathing.
The Master grinned. “I think we could do some great things together, Fargus,” he said. “We have more in common than you realize.”
Tears streamed down Fargus’s face.
“Let me put it another way. If you decide to work for me, then I shall tell you where your parents are. Sound fair?”
