Ida and Clarence had landed with a hard thud at the bottom of the hole. Luckily, Mary was curled into a tight little ball on the far end and had not been hurt. She was surprised to see them, to say the least, and she blinked twice and said, “Ida?”
Ida squinted and recognized Mary Grouse, who had lived at the Institute until only two months ago when Stairway Ruth had sent her to the Master. “Mousy Grouse?” she asked.
“Don’t call me that! I hate that!” Mary whimpered.
“You’ve got bigger problems, Grouse. The Brothers are right outside.”
Clarence undid the ropes binding Mary’s hands and feet while Ida slowly crawled halfway back up the hole. She listened closely. There was nothing at first, but soon she heard a phlegmy exhale, followed by a wicked growl. The Brothers were almost on top of the hole. She dared not move. The creatures were much too large to climb down, but she had no idea what they were capable of. She muttered to herself, “Out of the frying pan and into the hole.”
The children in the trees held their breath as they watched the Brothers sniff the air and begin to circle, looking for a way down. Kevin whispered to the others, “The Brothers will break their necks for trying to escape. They’ll never make it.”
A tough girl named Genevieve whispered back, “I’ll bet you five puddings they do.”
“You’re on,” Kevin said, although he secretly hoped he would lose the bet.
Genevieve gasped. One of the Brothers had begun to dig at the entrance to the hole, his large claws scooping up the dirt as if it were sand. The other Brother saw him and quickly caught on. He was soon digging next to him.
Ida watched with horror from below as loose dirt rained down on them. A large wet patch landed on Clarence. “Ida, what is this?” He held up the slime for Ida to inspect.
She looked at it and grimaced. “That would be Brother snot.”
Clarence shrieked and wiped his hand on the dirt wall. Mary giggled, but as Ida watched the claws tearing away above her, she knew that there was nothing to laugh about.
THIRTY-NINE
Ned was irritated. They were moving at a painfully slow pace. Bruce held Mabel’s reins and led her and Josephine through the trees while Ned followed. What was the point of horses if one person had to walk? He grumbled and ground his teeth a bit, but neither Bruce nor Josephine noticed. They were engrossed in their own conversation.
“Sarah was tall for her age, which she hated,” Bruce said, “but I knew she was going to be a real beauty. Just like her mother.”
Josephine must have looked surprised, because Bruce said, “It’s hard to see now, but Alma was quite the looker in her day.”
Ned snorted. He’d known Alma Jarvis his whole life, and she was nothing but a wrinkled shrew. Then Josephine turned to him and said, “The Master’s house is just ahead.” Ned’s heart quickened. He had been so focused on their slow pace that he had almost forgotten their destination. He felt for his father’s knife and patted it for reassurance.
The forest had become strangely quiet. No birds were singing, and he felt that even the breeze had decided it could go no farther. The vegetation became sparser and sparser as they continued, and soon there were only dead trees and dirt, as if the Master’s presence had sucked the life out of everything nearby. Ned could hardly believe they were still in Gulm.
Up ahead, Bruce had stopped walking, and he helped Josephine dismount Mabel, telling her to crouch behind a dead tree. Next he went to help Ned off Thistle, but Ned leaped off nimbly before Bruce reached him.
Ned was sorry to say good-bye to his noble steed, and he stroked the stallion’s mane and said, “Time to go home, Thistle.”
“Thistle?” Bruce laughed.
“Shut up!” Ned snapped. “It’s a good name!” He slapped the horse on the rear end and Thistle immediately trotted toward home, with Mabel close on his heels.
Ned turned to see Bruce pointing at something up ahead—the Master’s manor. A quiver ran down his spine. This was where it had happened: the destruction of his father’s family, the disappearance of his aunt, Lucy, and the fight that had cost Morgan the use of one of his legs.
Bruce spoke in a low whisper. “Maybe we should wait until dark, to make sure the Brothers aren’t around.”
But Josephine shook her head. “The invitation said quite clearly that I was expected at seven o’clock.”
“She’s right,” Ned agreed. “We have to risk it.”
“How will you get in?” Josephine asked, staring at the huge iron door and moat.
“You approach the front door and announce yourself, which will cause a diversion so I can sneak around the side.”
“And what should she do once she’s in there?” Bruce wondered.
“I don’t know,” Ned said. “Make small talk, have tea, talk about her cousins. Whatever it is that relatives do when they drop in.”
“And you think the Master will just let her leave when the dinner is over, maybe walk her to the door with a pot of jam?” Bruce asked in a voice dripping with sarcasm.
Ned told Josephine, “You just have to keep him busy long enough for me to find Ida and Fargus.”
“How will I know if you’ve had enough time?”
“Eat dinner,” Ned said. “Talk about his nice house or moat or whatever, and then you get out!” His voice softened. “Don’t stay any longer than you have to, okay?”
“But what if you—”
“He’s right,” Bruce added. “No matter what Ned and I find, you have to leave there as soon as you can.”
Ned swung around. “What!? You aren’t coming with me!” He couldn’t imagine this oaf trying to swim, let alone shimmy up a wall.
“I’ve come this far. I want to help. . . .”
Ned sighed. “You can be my lookout, but that’s it. I’m not dragging any tired old bones into the manor. You’ll only slow me down.”
Bruce fought the urge to admonish the boy for being so rude. He knew it would take time for Ned to trust him. He simply nodded his head in agreement.
