Deepest, Darkest Page 7

  Another shudder, and a grisly skull emerged from a nearby rock heap and rolled to a stop at Cole’s feet.

  “I said back in the boat,” barked Old Jim. “Move it.”

  He waited until all three children were in before giving the vessel a shove and hopping in to take the oars. In the aftermath of the earthquakes, the whole bay was rolling with frothy waves that slapped against the jagged rocks. The boat tipped and lurched, fighting against Jim as he rowed—but he managed to navigate back into open waters, and soon the currents calmed and the boat steadied. When Cole dared to glance back, the island had once again slipped behind a curtain of invisibility.

  Eleven

  By the time the cart rattled back into Endsborough, the shadows of the trees lining the road had already melted together into a prevailing dim, and hints of orange were beginning to highlight the wispy clouds above them.

  During the slow, rolling ride, Evie’s head began to dip, and finally she rested it on Tinn’s shoulder. Tinn felt his face go warm all the way out to his ears, and he couldn’t help smiling for the whole last leg of the journey.

  “Here you go,” said Old Jim, drawing the horses to a stop. “Landslides and killer waves are one thing, but I ain’t facing that mother of yours. You boys can brave her on your own.”

  Annie Burton was sitting at the kitchen table when the boys slipped through the door. She did not get up. Her expression was tight and her lips were pursed.

  “Hi, Mom,” said Tinn.

  Annie did not reply.

  “Sorry we’re late,” said Cole. “We were just—”

  “Don’t,” she cut him off. “Not one more lie.” She took a deep breath. “Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? I spoke to Raina, so I know you weren’t with Fable this afternoon. She tracked down Kull for me, so I know you weren’t at the horde, either. You weren’t anywhere in town. You weren’t out by your climbing tree or the old bridge, and you obviously haven’t been home. So before you give me one more clever story, consider—for once—just telling me the truth.”

  Tinn glanced at Cole. Cole nodded to Tinn.

  “We went looking for answers about Dad,” said Cole.

  Annie’s eyes closed. “Your father is gone,” she said. “It’s time for all of us to accept that.”

  “He’s underground,” Cole said.

  “You don’t know that,” sighed Annie, pained. “You can’t know that for sure.”

  “But I do,” Cole said. “He’s underground. And he’s alive. I am sure of it.”

  Annie was silent.

  Cole straightened and took a deep breath before continuing. “And we’re going after him.”

  Annie turned her head slowly from Cole to Tinn. “Anything to add?”

  Tinn bit his lip and lowered his eyes. “It’s true,” he said. “And other people have gone missing, too. Fable says her mom’s been dealing with disappearances from loads of different forest factions. And Chief Nudd hasn’t reported back to Hollowcliff in days. That’s not like him. Whatever took dad is taking people again, but there’s a real chance that we can find them.” He looked at his brother. “That we can find him.”

  Cole nodded. “So there it is. That’s the truth. We’re going to find Dad.”

  He waited for his mother to raise her voice—waited to be scolded, to be grounded, to be told a hundred reasons that going after their father was going to get them killed.

  Silence hung over the house for several seconds.

  “Yes,” said Annie Burton. “We are.”

  Tinn finally looked up from the carpet. “We?”

  Annie Burton crossed her arms. “Together. No more secrets. No more sneaking around.”

  “You’re not going to tell us not to?” said Cole.

  “Would it do any good?”

  Cole and Tinn exchanged another glance.

  “That’s what I thought.” Annie leaned back in her chair. “Okay,” she said. “Tell me what we know.”

  And so the boys told their mother everything. The sky outside their windows had dimmed from a pale gold to deep purple by the time the Burtons finished talking.

  “All right,” said Annie Burton at last. “Get some rest. Tomorrow we make plans to get your father back.”

  Soon after, Cole and Tinn were tucked snugly into their beds, each of them clad in clean pajamas, their foreheads recently kissed and their hair freshly ruffled. They lay quietly in the moonlight for several minutes before Tinn spoke.

  “It doesn’t feel real,” he said. “It’s not just you and me messing around anymore. Looking for Dad used to feel like when we were kids and we went searching for pirate treasure in the cow fields. Now it feels like . . . like something else.”

  Cole nodded. “Are you afraid?” he said. “It’s okay if you’re afraid.”

  Tinn stared at the big tree outside their window for several seconds as it swayed gently under the stars. “Do you really think we’ll find him?”

  “I hope so,” said Cole. “Do you?”

  Tinn glanced across the room. His brother’s eyes sparkled in the moonlight. He hadn’t seen Cole so hopeful in months. “Of course I do.” Tinn’s throat tightened.

  And what if they did? He stared at the ceiling as crickets chirped outside. What would Tinn ever say to a man who gave up everything just to be rid of him?

  Twelve

  “Let’s go over what we know,” said Annie Burton. The boys sat on one side of the breakfast table, nibbling strips of bacon, while Annie sat on the other, a cup of dark tea cooling beside her. Between them were a small stack of blank paper and a stubby pencil. “We know there’s something lurking under the ground, stealing people and then pushing up the leftovers into a big pile of bones and garbage off the coast.”

  “We also know they pushed up Dad’s lunch box,” said Cole, “but they didn’t push up Dad. And I saw him alive in Kallra’s future-vision, so we also know he’s still out there. Most likely underground, too.”

  “Right,” said Annie. “So whatever snatched your father and all the rest of them must have some sort of secret, underground lair deep beneath the forest, and even deeper than the ocean.”

  “A lair that even the scariest creatures in the Wild Wood are afraid to get close to,” added Tinn. He slipped a piece of bacon to Chuffy, the chubby black house cat, who purred contentedly and rubbed against his leg.

  “Which is a good sign that the scariest creatures in the Wild Wood are a lot smarter than we are,” said Annie. “But if we’re doing this, then how do we get close to it?”

  “Hm,” said Cole. “We could try to tunnel down through the island to whatever is pushing the stuff up?”

  “Okay,” said Annie. She made a note on her paper. “Lots of digging. High chance of drowning, but that is one route. Any other ideas?”

  “The spriggan caves?” said Tinn.

  “Right.” She wrote it down.

  “Spriggans kill trespassers, though,” Cole said. “They already want to kill us. And we’d have to get past them in order to get to . . . well, whatever else will probably want to kill us down there.”

  Tinn nodded solemnly.

  “Any other options?” said Annie.

  “The goblins?” Cole suggested. “If we explore those tunnels on Hollowcliff, we might find one of the ones they sealed off. The ones where they dug too deep.”

  Tinn smiled.

  “See? I listen,” said Cole.

  “That does sound a little better.” Annie added it to the list. “We know the goblins, at least.”

  “But humans aren’t allowed in horde territory,” Tinn said. “Kull might be okay with it, but a lot of the rest of them would get mad if I tried bringing you in with me, and with Chief Nudd gone, they’re all on edge already. Plus, supposing I could get you into the horde, even goblins aren’t supposed to enter the sealed tunnels. They’re off-limits.”

  Annie’s brow furrowed. “So—not ideal.”

 
“The mines,” said Cole. “It’s got to be the mines.”

  It was quiet for a moment as each of them waited for one of the others to raise a counterpoint against it.

  “That boarded-up shaft looked like it went down a really long way,” said Tinn.

  Cole nodded. “It’s probably how he got down there.”

  Annie pursed her lips. She used to be a miner’s wife. She knew only too well about coal dust and toxic fumes and cave-ins—all very good reasons to stay out of condemned shafts, especially if you enjoyed things like breathing and having a heartbeat. She closed her eyes. Not used to be. She was a miner’s wife. He was still down there. He was still alive.

  “The mines it is,” she said.

  It was midday when the Burtons reconvened at the kitchen table.

  “Mr. Zervos was very understanding, all things considered,” Annie said. “I suppose it doesn’t hurt that I spent half a month’s wages stocking up on supplies.”

  “What did you tell him you were leaving for?” asked Cole.

  “Did you tell him you were sick?” suggested Tinn.

  “Family vacation?” said Cole.

  “I told him the truth.”

  “Wait. Really?” said Cole. “The real truth?”

  “Yes. I told him my boys were getting increasingly reckless without my supervision, and that I needed to spend some time with them as a parent before they went off without me and got themselves killed.”

  “I can see how he might have believed that,” said Tinn.

  “Fable came by while you were out,” said Cole. “I told her we wouldn’t be able to play today because we’re getting ready for the big search. She thinks you’re super awesome for going with us.”

  “That’s because I am super awesome,” said Annie. “Fable is an excellent judge of character—but maybe don’t go telling any more people about this. Okay, let’s check our supplies before it gets too late for me to run into town for anything else.” Annie plucked the stubby pencil from behind her ear. “Let’s see. Two pickaxes. Two coils of rope . . .”

  Cole picked up some rope. “Oof. This is heavy. How long is it—a hundred feet?” He slid his head into the coil so that it hung over his shoulder and across his chest like a bulky sash. “How do I look?”

  “Like you’re ready for anything,” said Tinn. “As long as the thing you need to be ready for is having rope.”

  “Two safety lanterns,” Annie continued. “Half a dozen candles. Waterproof matchboxes.” She pointed to each of the items in turn as she ticked them off on her list.

  “Ooh. Trail mix!” said Tinn. “Think fast!” He tossed a bag to Cole.

  “Is it the kind with chocolate chips?” said Cole, catching it and peeking inside.

  “Put it down.” Annie marked the trail mix off her list. “Three bags of travel provisions. One tin with half a dozen sandwiches, one large package of beef jerky.”

  “Is that enough sandwiches?” said Tinn. “Maybe we should make more sandwiches.”

  “It’s plenty of sandwiches. We’re not planning on staying underground forever.”

  “Can I have a piece of jerky before we go?” said Cole.

  “No,” said Annie. “Those are for the trip.”

  A sharp knock pulled all of their eyes to the door.

  Annie put down the list and crossed to the front of the house.

  Tinn and Cole peeked around her as she opened the door.

  Annie straightened.

  “Hi. It’s me,” said Old Jim. He shuffled his feet awkwardly on the front step, Evie at his side.

  “Mr. Warner.” Annie crossed her arms. “I see you do remember how to talk to your fellow adults after all.”

  Old Jim winced. “I take it the boys let you know my part in yesterday’s business?”

  “You mean the part where you took my children with neither my knowledge nor my permission and put them in harm’s way a hundred miles from where I could do anything to help them?”

  “Forty miles,” mumbled Old Jim. “Maybe forty-five. Tops.”

  Annie raised an eyebrow.

  “Say the thing you practiced.” Evie nudged her great uncle’s leg.

  Old Jim cleared his throat. “I owe you an apology,” he grunted. “Should’ve told you first. That’s on me.”

  “You shouldn’t have gone at all,” said Annie.

  Jim rubbed the back of his neck. “I know. I only . . . But, no. You’re right. It was downright irresponsible to take them kids marching into something dangerous that I didn’t fully understand myself.”

  Annie’s steely gaze faltered for a moment. “That’s right,” she said. “Completely irresponsible.”

  “What’s that for?” said Evie, pointing at the rope wrapped around Cole’s chest.

  “This? It’s for climbing,” Cole said. “And probably for other rope-related stuff. You never know.”

  Jim looked at the rope. He looked at Annie. His eyes narrowed. “Foolhardy, even,” he said, more slowly.

  Annie swallowed. “Indeed.” Over her shoulder, the table of supplies was just visible.

  For several long seconds, the adults locked eyes.

  “What’s happening?” Evie whispered, looking from one of them to the other.

  “Whatever it is, we’re in,” said Old Jim.

  “What? No—” Annie began to protest, but Old Jim stepped past her into the house before she could argue. Evie followed in his wake.

  “So, what’s the plan?” said Old Jim.

  “Really! Jim—” Annie tried, but he was already crossing into the kitchen to survey the supplies.

  “We’re going to Echo Point,” said Cole, following him through the doorway. “We’re going to try to find a way down through the old tunnels.”

  “Cole!” Annie glared at him. Cole shrugged.

  “Mm.” Old Jim’s head bobbed in approval. “Good call. Folks talk about hearing things in those tunnels all the time. They’ve got to connect to something down there. We bringing anything to protect ourselves?”

  “Jim, seriously—” Annie said.

  “Mom bought us those couple of pickaxes,” said Tinn. “And some trail mix.”

  “Is it the kind with the chocolate chips?” asked Evie.

  Annie threw up her arms in exasperation. “Of course it’s the kind with the chocolate chips!” she yelled, quite a bit louder than she had intended to.

  The room quieted for a moment as Annie leaned heavily on the countertop with both hands and took several steadying breaths. “Look. I appreciate the offer, but Joseph is my family,” she said. “I can’t ask you to come with us.”

  Old Jim put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “No one asked for your help before you jumped into the bucket brigade when the stationery store caught fire, did they? They didn’t need to. Your boys didn’t need to be asked for help when they pulled my sorry butt out of the line of fire during that battle a few months back, either. You and yours might stir up more’n your share of trouble, but you never hesitate to stick your necks out for me and mine. So I’m not waiting to be asked. You’re fixing to finally find Joseph? We’re in. End of discussion. Ain’t that right, Evelyn?”

  Evie grinned.

  Annie’s shoulders sagged. “Fine,” she sighed. “You’re in.” The twins grinned.

  Before anyone could add anything, another sharp knock rattled the door.

  “Who now?” Annie made her way to the front door again.

  Fable was there, beaming merrily. “Hi, Annie Burton!” On the stoop behind her stood Raina, the indomitable Queen of the Deep Dark.

  “Fable? Raina?” said Annie. “Is everything all right?”

  “My daughter informs me that you intend to embark on a perilous journey into fathomless subterranean depths beneath my Wild Wood,” Raina said. Her voice was as cool as the autumn breeze.

  “Well.” Annie hesitated. “I wouldn’t phrase it quite like that.”

  “We are
coming with you.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I do not feel that I need to repeat myself,” said the queen. She stepped past Annie into the now increasingly crowded house. “We are ready to depart when you are.”

  Fable smiled broadly as she followed her mother inside.

  Annie blinked.

  “I think,” Tinn said softly from beside her, “we’re gonna need more sandwiches.”

  Thirteen

  Lamplight played across the rocks, casting arches of pale, flickering gold along the walls and ceiling. Heavy wooden beams had been erected every fifteen feet or so to reinforce the roof, but they slanted at odd angles, giving the passage a dizzying, twisted atmosphere. The tunnel was cool and smelled like dirt and damp. The party moved forward in relative silence, but every footstep they took echoed and fractured into a dozen muffled copies of itself, filling the tunnel with a dull, wordless susurrus as they progressed.

  “It’s through here,” said Cole.

  They had waited until nearly sundown—not that daylight would make any difference where they were going. The final whistle had blown almost an hour ago, and the last employees of the Echo Point Mining Company had finally left.

  Annie eyed the broken boards and faded warning signs as her sons led the way into an abandoned mine shaft. “Really?” she said. “You thought coming through here unsupervised was a good idea?”

  “It’s not much farther,” said Cole. “Watch your head.”

  “I don’t like it,” mumbled Old Jim. “This whole place is creepy.”

  “It’s not so bad,” Evie tried. “I mean. It’s just a hole in the ground, if you think about it.”

  “Hrmph,” Jim grunted. “Get to my age and you start thinking a lot more about winding up in a hole in the ground. I’ve never been too keen to get into one any sooner than I need to.”

  “Watch your step,” said Tinn, up ahead of them. “It slopes down.”

  Annie glanced over at Raina, who had not spoken since they crossed the property line into Echo Point. “Are you all right? You’ve been quiet.”