“Where’d you go? Are you all right?”
He grinned weakly. “I got sick . . . in the moat . . . I didn’t want you to see.”
“Oh. Are you finished now?”
He nodded.
Ida put her arm around his shoulder and led him over to Josephine and the others. She announced to all the children, “Fargus destroyed the Master! He’s a hero!”
The children cheered and clapped for Fargus, who was mortified that he could be celebrated for doing something so horrid. Josephine and Ned couldn’t bring themselves to clap, having seen what had happened to the Master.
Ida told him, “You did okay in there. If it were me, I would’ve stabbed the Master in the eyeballs, but you did your best.” She looked down and for the first time noticed Fargus’s bandaged hand. “What happened?”
Fargus replied, “The Master . . . he . . . I burned it. That’s all.”
“Disgusting! Can I see?”
He slowly unwrapped the bandage and revealed his charred flesh. His hand looked as if it had been replaced by a melting wax replica.
“Oh, Fargus!” Josephine said with pity, tears welling in her eyes. “You must be in horrible pain.”
“It’s not so bad,” he lied. “It just hurts when the air hits it.”
Josephine remembered the gloves in her pocket. She took them out and handed them to Fargus. “Here. Take these.”
“I just need the one,” Fargus said, gladly taking the glove.
“Then you’ll look crazy,” Ida said. “Better to wear both and have people think you’re just cold.”
Fargus was in no mood to fight with her, so he put both gloves on.
“Ned, do you have—?” But Josephine didn’t finish the sentence.
A sour look had appeared on Ned’s face. “Do you smell that?”
And suddenly the others could smell it too—garbage and herbs—and as they recognized the odor, they began to panic. “The Brothers! They’re coming!” Josephine cried. She surveyed the field and the edges of the forest, waiting for the horrible grunting beasts to show themselves.
“We have nowhere to run,” Ned said.
“Stay together!” Josephine ordered. Otherwise they would be picked off one by one.
A girl screamed and pointed. Josephine saw the trees parting, and she began to scream herself as she saw both Brothers heading straight for them.
Everyone made a run for it without any thought or reason, just sprinting as fast as their legs could carry them. “No!” Josephine cried. “Stay together!”
And then she decided to run too, but Ned grabbed her arm so she couldn’t move. “What are you doing?!” she screamed.
“Wait!” he cried. “Do you see what I see?”
Josephine thought Ned had lost his mind, but when she looked back at the Brothers, she, too, saw something strange. Someone appeared to be riding one of them. “Who is that?” she asked incredulously.
“I’m not sure,” Ned said, “but . . . I think it might be . . . BRUCE!”
“Bruce?” Josephine squinted her eyes, and sure enough, she could make out the tall figure of Bruce sitting on top of one of the Brothers. And he was grinning from ear to ear.
Ned shook his head in disbelief. “That’s the most unlikely thing I’ve ever seen.”
Seeing Bruce’s blissful expression, Josephine decided there was nothing to fear. “Bruce!” she shouted, and waved.
Bruce waved back, and then suddenly a brown-haired girl in the group yelled, “Poppa!”
Ned told Josephine, “That’s Sarah, Bruce and Alma’s daughter.”
Bruce and the Brothers headed for Sarah. When they got close to her, the Brother Bruce was riding sat down and allowed Bruce to slide off his back.
Bruce ran and scooped Sarah up in his arms. “I thought I’d never see you again!” she cried.
The Brothers calmly observed the whole proceeding. They lay down in the field and one even scratched his belly.
Josephine and Ned came running, as did all the other children. They were amazed to see the Brothers being docile, but no one dared get too close to them.
Once Josephine reached Bruce, she could see that he was a mess. His face was bruised and bloodied and he had a huge scratch running down his arm.
All the children yelled at once: “Bruce! Bruce!” “What happened?” “Are you okay?” “How did you do it?” “What happened to the Brothers?”
Bruce laughed and put Sarah down. “Well, it was the darnedest thing. I was running through the forest as fast as I could, but the Brothers were gaining on me. I’m not as quick as I used to be, and I tripped and fell, and, well, I was sure I was a goner. And one of them—I call him Blacky—was just about to tear me apart, I’d say, when all of a sudden he stopped. I mean, he just stopped dead in his tracks and shook his head as if he were waking up out of a bad dream or something. And all the anger and savagery just seemed to drain out of him.
“It’s hard to describe, but all at once he reminded me of a new calf who’d lost his way. So that’s how I treated him. I pet his head a little and used a soft voice, and next thing I knew, he and the other one—I call him Smoky—were as sweet as kittens.”
