Jack mutely shook her head. Jill, who had been eating throughout the exchange, continued to shovel meat and potato and spinach into her mouth, seemingly content with the world.
Heavy footsteps echoed up the stairs, loudly enough to catch the attention of everyone at the table, even Jill, who chewed and swallowed as she turned to look toward the sound. The man grimaced, an expression of distaste which only deepened as another stranger walked into the room.
This man was solid, built like a windmill, sturdy and strong and aching to burn. His clothing was practical, denim trousers and a homespun shirt, both protected by a leather apron. He had a chin that could have been used to split logs, and bright, assessing eyes below the heavy slope of his brow. Most fascinating of all was the scar that ran all the way along the circumference of his neck, heavy and white and frayed like a piece of twine, like whatever had cut him had made no effort whatsoever to do it cleanly.
“Dr. Bleak,” said the first man, and sneered. “I wasn’t sure you would deign to come. Certainly not so quickly. Don’t you have some act of terrible butchery to commit?”
“Always,” said Dr. Bleak. His voice was a rumble of thunder in the distant mountains, and Jack loved it at once. He sounded like a man who had shouted his way into understanding the universe. “But we had an arrangement, you and I. Or have you forgotten?”
The first man grimaced. “I sent for you, didn’t I? I told Ivan to tell you that I remembered.”
“The things Ivan says and the things you say are sometimes dissimilar.” Dr. Bleak finally turned to look at Jack and Jill.
Jill had stopped eating. Both of them were sitting very, very still.
Dr. Bleak frowned at the red-stained potatoes on Jill’s plate. The meat was long since gone, but the signs of it remained. “I see you’ve already made your choice,” he said. “That was not a part of the arrangement.”
“I allowed the girls to select their own meals,” said the first man, sounding affronted. “It’s not my fault if she prefers her meat rare.”
“Mmm,” said Dr. Bleak noncommittally. He focused on Jill. “What’s your name, child? Don’t be afraid. I’m not here to harm you.”
“Jillian,” whispered Jill, in a squeak of a voice.
“Dr. Bleak lives outside the village,” said the first man. “He has a hovel. Rats and spiders and the like. It’s nothing compared to a castle.”
Dr. Bleak rolled his eyes. “Really? Really? You’re going to resort to petty insults? I haven’t even made my choice yet.”
“But as you’re clearly going for the one I’d be inclined to favor, I feel no shame in pleading my case,” said the first man. “Besides, look at them. A matched set! How could you begrudge me the desire to keep them both?”
“Wait,” said Jack. “What do you mean, ‘keep’ us? We’re not stray dogs. We’re very sorry we trespassed in your big creepy field, but we’re not staying here. As soon as we find a door, we’re going home.”
The first man smirked. Dr. Bleak actually looked … well, almost sad.
“The doors appear when they will,” he said. “You could be here for a very long time.”
Jack and Jill bore identical expressions of alarm. Jill spoke first.
“I have soccer practice,” she said. “I can’t miss it. They’ll cut me from the team, and then Daddy will be furious with me.”
“I’m not supposed to go outside,” said Jack. “My mother’s going to be so mad when she finds out that I did. We can’t be here for a very long time. We just can’t.”
“But you will,” said the first man. “For three days as guests in my home, and then as treasured residents, for as long as it takes to find a door back to your world. If you ever do. Not all foundlings return to the places that they ran away from, do they, Mary?”
“No, m’lord,” said Mary, in a dull, dead voice.
“The last foundling to come stumbling into the Moors was a boy with hair like fire and eyes like a winter morning,” said the first man. “Dr. Bleak and I argued over who should have his care and feeding—because we both love children, you see. They’re so lively, so energetic. They can make a house feel like a home. In the end, I won, and I promised Dr. Bleak that, in order to keep the peace, he would have the next foundling to pass through. Imagine my surprise when there were two of you! Truly the Moon provides.”
“Where is he now?” asked Jack warily.
“He found his door home,” said Dr. Bleak. “He took it.” He glared down the length of the table at the first man, like he was daring him to say something.
Instead, the first man simply laughed, shaking his head. “So dramatic! Always so dramatic. Sit down, Michel. Let me feed you. Enjoy the hospitality of my home for an evening, and perhaps you’ll see the wisdom of letting these pretty sisters stay together.”
“If you’re so set on keeping them as a matched set, honor the spirit of our agreement and let them both come home with me,” said Dr. Bleak. His next words were directed at the girls. “I can’t keep you in luxury. I have no servants, and you’ll be expected to work for your keep. But I’ll teach you how the world works, and you’ll go home wiser, if wearier. You will never be intentionally harmed beneath my roof.”
The word “never” seemed to leap out at Jack. The first man had only promised them three days. She looked across the table at Jill and found her sister sulky-eyed and pouting.
“Will you eat, Michel?” asked the first man.
“I suppose I should,” said Dr. Bleak, and dropped himself into a chair like an avalanche coming finally to rest. He looked to Mary. His eyes were kind. “Meat and bread and beer, if you would be so kind, Mary.”
“Yes, sir,” said Mary, and actually smiled as she fled the room.
The first man—the Master—raised his goblet in a mocking toast. “To the future,” he said. “It’s on its way now, whether we’re prepared or not.”
“I suppose that’s true,” said Dr. Bleak, to him, and “Eat,” he said, to Jack and Jill. “You’ll need your strength for what’s to come.
“We all will.”
6
THE FIRST NIGHT OF SAFETY
JACK AND JILL were tucked away in the same round tower room, in two small beds shaped like teardrops, with their heads at the widest point and their feet pointed toward the tapering end. The windows were barred. The door was locked. “For your protection,” Mary had said, before turning the key and sealing them in for the evening.