“Let’s go, Josephine,” Ned said. “We’re in a hurry.” He steered his horse past Bruce, one hand resting on his father’s hunting knife, but Josephine didn’t move. She wasn’t finished with Bruce.
“How could you?” she asked. “I thought you were a nice person!”
“I . . . uh . . . Alma said . . .” But he couldn’t finish. He knew there was no excuse for what he had done. And he no longer had the energy to try to recapture Josephine.
“Come on,” Ned urged again. Josephine kicked Mabel gently, and the horse followed Ned and Thistle. Josephine passed Bruce, disgust in her eyes, and had almost disappeared back into the trees when she stopped and turned around to face him once more. She decided to take a risk. “The bedroom I slept in—whose room was it?”
Bruce was surprised by the question and answered in a whisper, “Her name was Sarah.”
“Your daughter?”
He nodded, looking like a child admitting he was afraid of the dark.
“Don’t you want to know what happened to Sarah?”
“Of course I do,” he mumbled.
“Come with us, then. Ned and I are going to see the Master, to find Fargus and Ida.”
Ned whipped around. “You can’t trust him! He’s the reason your friends are with the Master in the first place!”
Josephine ignored Ned’s warning. “Will you help us, Bruce?”
As he stood there, Bruce thought of teaching Ida and Fargus to fish, just as he had done with Sarah so many years ago. Fargus had been unable to flick his wrist and kept getting tangled in the line, and Ida hadn’t had the patience to sit and wait for a bite. She’d been ready to jump into the water and grab a trout by hand. They were good kids. Bruce knew that. He had been too determined to please his wife to think for himself.
Bruce stiffened. “You’re right, Ned. You have no reason to trust me, but you’re not headed in the right direction to get to the Master’s estate. At least let me take you there.”
“He’s old and he’s a traitor!” Ned cried. “We don’t need him!”
Josephine argued, “We’ve passed this same dead log three times, Ned. We’re lost, and I have to be there by seven!”
“Why does he know the way so well? Because he works for the Master!” Ned barked.
“No,” Bruce said. “After he took my daughter, I used to go there. I thought maybe I’d get a glimpse of her, you know? Please, let me help you.” Bruce looked up at the sun to get his bearings and then set off toward the Master’s estate. Josephine nudged Mabel after him.
“I know the way just fine!” Ned protested.
Bruce and Josephine disappeared farther into the forest. Ned was completely flabbergasted. Bruce looked back and saw Josephine smiling down at him from her horse and Ned and Thistle scrambling to catch up. For the first time in years, Bruce felt as tall as a spruce.
THIRTY-EIGHT
Clarence did most of the climbing in and out of the holes while Ida herded the children together as if she were a sheepdog. She and Clarence now stood on the edge of the field, surrounded by a dozen wide-eyed, dirt-covered children. Ida did not see Fargus among them.
She announced, “All right, all of you, you’re safe now, but we have to move fast. The Brothers are about to wake up. Everyone take your neighbor’s hand. We’re going to move in a line.”
“Where are we going?” asked a small girl with orange hair.
“To Gulm.”
There was an excited whisper among the group.
“But first, has anyone here seen my friend Fargus? He’s a runt about this high, with sandy hair, and he’s as talkative as my left shoe.”
The children all nodded their heads in unison, although the orange-haired girl asked her neighbor why Ida had a talking shoe. “Where is he?” Ida asked, relieved that he had been seen, but even as she asked the question, she was afraid she knew the miserable answer. The children one by one pointed to the manor.
“Okay. Change of plans. First, we’re going to go get Fargus, and then I’ll take you to Gulm.”
“But what about Mary?” a voice in the middle asked.
“Who’s Mary?” Ida asked.
“She’s still in her hole. Over there.” The boy pointed across the field to an area a mere ten yards from the Brothers’ tree. Ida looked at the sky and saw the screaming sun emerging over the hills.
She was annoyed. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?” But she looked around at the expectant faces and knew she could not leave anyone behind, however tempting it might be. “Right. Clarence, you come with me. We’ll get Mary. The rest of you, wait here.”
A boy said, “But they’ll see us the second they come out.”
Ida looked around and saw a group of tall dead trees near the back of the manor. “I suggest you run as fast as you can to those trees. Climb them and don’t make a sound. Don’t even breathe.”
One child began to stammer in fear, “B-b-but what about . . . ?”
“Just do it. Now!” Ida grabbed Clarence’s wrist and began running toward the Brothers’ tree. As they drew closer to the entrance to Mary’s hole, a deep snort rumbled through the terrain at their feet. Ida looked over her shoulder and saw the sun threatening to douse them in gold. All she could focus on was getting to the hole. She had no idea what she would do once she got there. The ground shook again as a second snarl echoed through the dirt, across the field, and out of the empty holes, and Clarence began to stumble. Ida steadied him and pulled him along behind her. Her nostrils filled with the stench of creatures not made to walk above the earth. The first bold rays of light flickered onto the field. “This is it, Clarence.” They had only a few yards left.
“They’re coming, Ida.”
She looked over to see a black steaming head emerging from the base of the tree. It blinked at the morning air, as if it were entering the world for the first time. And then it suddenly snapped its neck toward them, the smell of young flesh pulling its head around like a leash. Ida leaped across the final few steps and dove into the slim hole. She had neglected to release Clarence’s hand and so he toppled in on top of her.
The other children watched in terror from the trees. They saw Ida and Clarence disappear just as the Brothers rose up. A lanky boy named Kevin was the only one who dared to speak. “They’re trapped.” Eleven voices told him to shush.
