O’Malley waves them in one at a time, making sure they don’t jostle each other trying to get through.
I turn and stand next to Bishop, both of us looking out at woods that seem to surround us on all sides. The monsters caught Bello by surprise, but now we know they are here—and we know they can die.
Bishop glances at me. “Do we go after her?”
I want to, and I also don’t. I’m afraid to go back into those woods, which is what we have to do to find her, if she can even be found at all. I could take Bishop, Bawden and Coyotl, we could go back in…but if I do that, I’m leaving the others with fewer people who can fight.
“We’re getting everyone to a safe place first,” I say. “A room with one way in, where a couple of circle-stars can protect them. Then we’ll come for Bello.”
He nods. He doesn’t want to go back into the woods, either, but I know that he’ll do it.
O’Malley’s hand on my shoulder.
“Everyone is in. What’s going on? What happened to Bello?”
Do I tell him? Do I tell anyone who doesn’t already know? The truth might make them panic. Right now people are afraid, but they are listening to me. All that matters is getting the weak somewhere we can better protect them.
“Trust me, O’Malley. I need everyone to move fast and stay together. Help me do that.”
His blue eyes stare at me, blaze with a desperate need to know, but he pushes that need away. He crawls into the thicket tunnel.
“Visca, Coyotl, you’re next,” I say. “Then Bishop. I’ll go last.”
The words are barely out of my mouth before Bishop grabs my shoulders, turns me, and gently shoves me to the tunnel mouth.
“Go now, Em. We’ll be right behind you.”
He’ll be the last one in. He’s not going to discuss it.
I crawl into the thicket tunnel. I force myself not to rush, not to come out with new scratches. If I want everyone else to stay calm, I need to be calm myself.
The small room is lit by seven burning torches. I should have given orders not to light them until we were in the hallway. We’ve lost precious minutes and I hope we’re at Gaston’s archway before that matters. People are packed in tight. The air smells of burned cloth.
I wait for the last of our circle-stars to join us, then send Farrar and Visca through the hole in the door to make sure the hallway is clear.
It is.
One at a time, we crawl through the hole. Gaston and Spingate are up front with me. Even if it’s a straight shot, I want them at my side because they’ve been this way before.
I look back for Bishop, but can’t see him through the flames and the frightened faces. He will bring up the rear, protect us if the monsters try to chase us down.
Each second we wait is a second of torchlight wasted.
“Everyone, stay together,” I shout, loud enough to be heard even back at the end of the group. “We’re going to move fast, so don’t lose track of the person in front of you. El-Saffani, lead the way.”
The twins jog ahead a few steps. They are ready to take on any danger.
“All right,” I say, “let’s move.”
We run uphill.
Doubts grab at me almost immediately. What if the monsters aren’t only in the Garden? What if they’re in this hallway as well? What if they are hiding in the rooms we might pass, waiting to grab us? Our torches dent the darkness, they don’t chase it away—we might not see the monsters coming.
I should tell my people what I saw, so they can be on guard. I should…but still I do not. If I tell them what happened to Bello, will they panic at every flickering shadow? If I stop to explain, will we have enough light to make it to Gaston’s archway?
So many decisions to make, coming so fast, and there are no easy answers.
The hallway rushes by. Carvings move like real life as torch shadows dance across them. I see archway doors in the walls—some open, some closed—but we don’t have time to look inside. I keep us moving forward and hope for the best.
The fear I felt in the woods creeps back into my chest. Am I running to keep everyone safe, or because I am terrified of those creatures, because my wrist still feels cold where the scarred one grabbed me?
I try to push those thoughts away: I made my decision and I will see it through.
The hall reeks of fear: we are animals fleeing for our lives, no different than the wounded pig. I don’t have to tell people to keep up, because they are all sprinting as fast as they can. Our collective footsteps thunder through the hall.
Before long, the hectic pace starts to take its toll. My body begs me to rest, to breathe. The monsters could be right behind me, coal-black wrinkles and red eyes and no mouths, ready to grab me and drag me into the darkness.
El-Saffani stops. Gaston’s archway door. The stone halves are two giant fists smashed together to block our way. Our torches are all starting to flutter: we made it just in time.
Spingate slides the scepter out of her makeshift holster and goes to work.
I cup a hand to my mouth and shout to the rear of the group.