“Can you untie my hands, please?”
“I just got out of my own hole!”
“Please?”
“Hot maggot breath! I’m on my way.”
She found the climb down quite easy, and she had no problems undoing Clarence’s ropes. As she untied him, she explained to him how to use the roots to pull himself up the tunnel, and he scurried up with much less effort than she had. As she panted and gasped for air on the climb back up, Clarence helped her with the final pull. She lay on the ground, glaring at his smiling face. He had big green eyes and was probably only seven years old.
“I don’t suppose you have any food?” she inquired.
“Sure I do. Everyone prepares sustenance for time in the holes.”
Sustenance? What kind of little kid says “sustenance”? Ida wondered.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a squashed ball of bread, dried porridge, raisins, and lint. “You can have it if you want. I won’t be needing it now.” He smiled.
Ida snatched the bizarre lump and ate it in three quick bites. She waited for it to reach her stomach and fill the overpowering void. She soon began to think a little clearer and her dizziness ceased.
“Thanks, Clarence. I’m glad I tripped over your hole.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“We should get out of here. The Brothers will be out soon, and I don’t like the look of that house.”
“That’s my home.”
“It is?” Ida was embarrassed. “It has really nice . . . gutters.”
“Thanks.”
“Are your parents there?”
“No. My parents are in Gulm, I think. I live with the Master.”
“The Master? He lives there?” Ida instinctively began speaking in whispers. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”
“I thought you knew. Everyone knows the Master lives there.”
“Was he trying to kill you?”
“No. It’s just my turn.”
“For what?”
“For the Brothers. They sleep over there.” He pointed to an ancient oak tree with an opening at the bottom. “The Master says that as long as the Brothers have children to nourish them, they can live forever.”
Ida felt sick. “That’s . . . that’s horrible. So they were going to eat us?”
“No. Not like this . . .” Clarence began to move his teeth as though he were chewing on a tough piece of beef. He stopped and continued, “The way they eat—it’s more like a plant that sucks water out of the dirt.”
“So the Brothers are the plants?”
“Precisely!” he said, excited that Ida understood.
But Ida did not feel excited. “What does it feel like?”
“It starts as a tickle in your stomach, and then it feels like ants are stinging your toes, and then your whole body shakes like this . . .” He began to twitch and convulse, with his eyes bulging and his tongue sticking out.
“Okay, okay. I get it.” Ida put her hands on his shoulders and forced him to be still. She had felt the pain he’d described at least four times over the past few days.
“Does it make you sick or anything?”
“Not sick, really. But you can’t do it too many times, or your brain turns to porridge. And then there’s the age thing.”
“What age thing?”
Suddenly the oak tree shook and a low growl crept across the field. Ida grabbed Clarence by the neck of his grimy shirt. “We’ve got to get out of here. Now!”
“Okay,” Clarence chirped. “As soon as we have the others.”
“Others?”
Clarence gestured at the field, and as Ida focused more, she could see dozens of holes spread over the land. She realized, to her dismay, that each one probably contained a child like herself or Clarence.
“If we’re going to Gulm, we have to take them, too,” Clarence said.
“Clarence, we don’t have time. The Brothers are coming!”
