Small Favors

by Erin A. Craig

  The bedroom door swung open, and I darted from the parlor before he could see me and piece everything together. I was across the yard before he emerged from the confinement room, and I ducked behind the little fence separating the parsonage from absolute chaos.

  A thundering boom echoed through the hazy landscape. Another explosion? Or something even worse?

  A trio of voices sounded from around the corner, arguing over one another. I pressed myself to the fence, praying the shadows would cover me.

  “Who’s that?” one asked, spotting me.

  Rough hands grabbed at my arms, hauling me to my feet before I could flee.

  “Isn’t that one of the Downing girls?” Matthias Dodson nudged my chin, tilting me toward him for inspection. “I thought the lot of you were at the church, waiting on the parson.”

  Despite the perilous edge I was on, hope kindled within me. “Sadie and Merry are at the church?”

  Calvin Buhrman wiped a hand over his runny eyes. They were red-rimmed, irritated by the smoke, and nearly swollen shut. “Don’t even know why we need to go through this charade. We all know they did it.”

  “My sisters did nothing!” I protested. “Neither did Samuel. You have to release them! Matthias, please!” I pawed desperately at him, clutching at his cloak sleeve. My heart sank as I saw the scarlet Rules embroidered along its edge. He was dressed for Judgment.

  “We follow the Rules, now and always,” Matthias said, raising an eyebrow at the tavern owner.

  “Where’s Leland? We can’t carry this out without Leland,” Amos McCleary said, swaying unsteadily against his walking stick. It was gummy with drying blood, and I noticed a fine spray of droplets marring the Elder’s face, turning his tufts of white hair to rust. The blood wasn’t his.

  “I heard him with Winthrop Mullins a few streets over,” I said, hoping my information would grant me a bit of mercy. “They were arguing….Then there was gunfire.”

  Amos puckered his lips, as grim as an undertaker. “We have to assume him dead, then. There’s no time for speculation.” He glanced to Calvin. “Should we appoint Buhrman to take his place?”

  Matthias frowned. “That’s not how things are done.”

  “We’re past the point of doing things properly,” Amos said. “Look around. There won’t be a town left to save if we don’t act quickly.”

  “I accept,” Calvin said, jumping on the opportunity.

  “Now, just a minute—”

  “No time!” Amos cried, his eyes shining, bright and mad. “I said no time!”

  He raised his cane, and brought it down on Matthias, clocking him over the head. Matthias released his grip on me and clutched his bloodied forehead.

  “What the devil was that for, old man?”

  “I should have done that an age ago. Don’t think I don’t know all about the secret meetings you and Leland held this winter, plotting and planning behind my back. You wanted to edge me out. Usurp my position on the council.”

  Matthias snorted, gurgling blood. “You were sick.”

  “That’s no excuse!”

  “The whole town couldn’t stop to watch you die!”

  “I’m not dying now, am I?” Amos struck him again. The carved Founder Tree smashed into Matthias’s face, caving in half his jaw.

  Matthias staggered back. The heft of his cloak and the nightmarish haze of the smoke made him appear larger than he was, strange and misshapen, making me recall the drawings in Ephraim’s journals, Minotaurs and horned apes that walked upright through pine barrens, leathery wings on their backs.

  It was this monstrous shape that hurled itself upon Amos McCleary, meaty fists striking into sunken cheeks. Calvin’s eyes widened in horror as he watched the Elders pummel one another. After a moment, he shook his head and ran off.

  “What is the meaning of this?” a voice roared, momentarily stopping the fight.

  Parson Briard strode out of the burning darkness, his robes swaying behind him like a king’s coronation vestments.

  “I can’t believe my eyes. The Elders, quarreling?” He stepped forward, squinting at what was left of Matthias’s face. “That doesn’t look good, Dodson. You’ll want to have the doctor look that over. I think I saw him somewhere around the schoolyard. Parts of him, anyway.” He shrugged. “Myself, I’ve never cared for modern medicine. I think the old ways still are best. Starve a fever. Feed a cold. Put a beast out of its misery.”

  There was a single gunshot, sharp and final, and I swallowed my cry as Matthias reeled back into an ashen heap. His cloak pulled away, revealing a fallen man and nothing more.

  “That ought to cure what ails him, don’t you think?” Briard asked, smoke still wafting from his pistol.

  Amos leaned over, examining the still remains of his former friend. “What have you done?” He turned toward the parson, his fingers tight around the bloodied walking stick. “Damn you, Briard. Damn you to hell.”

  A cackle of triumph burst from Amos as he swung his cane high. I turned away in time to avoid witnessing the bloody aftermath, but it didn’t stop me from hearing it, like footsteps crunching through deep snow.

  I broke into a sprint, praying the Elder would forget about me as he satiated his bloodlust elsewhere.

  Rounding the corner, I could just make out the church’s bell tower, rising among plumes of wreckage and ruin. In the little square at the base of the hill were the stocks. There was a dark mass huddled against the pillory.

  Sam.

  Before I could run to him, two shapes broke free of the shadows, hurtling into me.

  “Ellerie? Is it really you?” Merry threw her arms around me. Her voice was rasped sharp. She’d breathed in too much of the smoke and ash.

  Sadie squeezed me, sobbing, her head buried at my waist. “We thought we’d never see you again. We thought—”

  “Are you okay? Have they hurt you?” I ran fingers over their soot-stained faces, brushing back loose, matted hair to inspect them. There was a line of red scratches down Merry’s face, and one of Sadie’s sleeves had been torn from her dress. They’d fought and struggled. I pulled them into another hug, tears falling over them.

  Merry clutched my arm. “Parson Briard wanted to put us in the stocks with Sam, but Thomas charged at him. He told us to run, to run and hide.”

  “But then there was the ball of fire,” Sadie cried, her cheeks scrunched. “And fighting, everywhere. Everyone has gone mad.”

  “I’ve seen.”

  “They’re going to kill him,” Merry said.

  “We’re going to find a way to free Sam, I swear we will.”

  I cupped her cheek, unable to stop touching my sisters. I needed physical assurance that they were here, with me, and safe.

  “Not Sam,” Merry said, pointing back to the stocks. “Thomas. And Ephraim.”

  I squinted. It had been too dark to make out before, but there were two figures secured in the stocks, not one. The heads hanging between the wooden boards had mops of brown curls, not Sam’s bright blond hair.

  “He lied,” Merry said, her lower lip trembling. “Sam. When they brought us to the square, he told the parson that the devil had been summoned to the Falls—and that the Fairhopes were it.” She let out a broken gasp. “They said the Gallows weren’t good enough. That devils need to burn. They’re building the stakes now, Sam leading them all.”

  “Sam did that?” I wanted to be shocked, to be stunned and outraged. How could our brother say such a thing? I knew he was capable of mistakes—big, horrible, awful ones—but this was beyond the pale. Lives were at stake. Innocent lives.

  I froze.

  There it was.

  Sam’s lie.

  Given at exactly the wrong moment.

  “We’re getting out of here,” I promised them. “All of us. The parsonage is still standing. I’ll bet
their stable is too. We’ll take their wagon and make for the pass. We can try to find help and…” I glanced around, barely able to register the devastation. There would be nothing left to save, come morning. “But first we have to free Thomas and Ephraim.”

  “Briard has the key,” Merry said.

  Hot bile churned in my stomach as I remembered the crunch of his skull. I could not go back down that darkened street.

  I raised my hatchet. “I’ve got something better.”

  My first strike at the stocks missed the boards and struck one of the metal hinges.

  Painful reverberations from the thwack traveled up the axe, wrenching my shoulder back as I gasped. With a cry of determination, I swung the hatchet again, chipping into the frame.

  Again and again, I unleashed my frustrations and furies onto the weathered boards.

  Splinters and bigger bits of wood rained down on the parched earth until the stocks broke apart with a groan.

  Falling to the ground, the men listed heavily, unable to stand. Thomas had been beaten badly, and his face was swollen and mottled. His eyes were glazed over, distant and unseeing, but when Merry reached out to support his weight, I saw him press his forehead to her temple, murmuring gratefully.

  Ephraim’s glasses were missing, and he squinted through the haze of smoke, his eyes raw and red.

  “You brave girl,” he said as I ducked under his arm, helping him lean on me.

  “I figured out her name, but it didn’t matter,” I said, unable to accept any credit. “It was too late.”

  “What about Sam?” Sadie asked as we made our way toward the parsonage. “We’re not going to leave him…are we?”

  Whitaker’s final words returned to me, floating in my head like a cork bobber, and I couldn’t deny their ring of truth. Sam would abandon us, turn tail and leave without a spare thought.

  But did that make it right to do the same to him?

  “I…We should…” I let out a growl of frustration. “I’ll go after him. Make your way to the parsonage. Ready the horses and search for whatever supplies we can take.”

  “We should just leave him,” Merry said, surprising me. “After the things he said about Thomas and Ephraim…You didn’t hear them, Ellerie. They were terrible and foul. And even worse…” She pressed Sadie close to her, covering her ears. “He blamed you for everything. For bringing them here. He wants to see you burn.”

  “He couldn’t have meant it.”

  Sadie whimpered. “He doesn’t know what he’s saying. Something’s not right.”

  “Obviously,” Merry scoffed. “Please come with us.”

  “He’s our brother.”

  She shook her head. “He’s no brother of mine. Not any longer.” She pulled me into a tight embrace. “Be safe, please, Ellerie.”

  I promised I would, pressing tearful kisses to her and Sadie before they stumbled off into the fiery dark.

  * * *

  I approached the square carefully, keeping beneath the blanketing shadows of the oaks, eyes darting and alert, my hatchet at the ready. All of the men looked indistinguishable from one another, and I bit my tongue to keep from calling Sam’s name.

  Their movements were efficient and purposeful. Two men stood on an assembled platform, hammering posts into place. The others brought piles of kindling and larger sticks. Some even carried full logs. It was a wonder the men bothered with kindling at all. The entire town was ablaze; little more than a spark would be needed to set their macabre bonfire alight.

  A new figure raced into the square, panting loudly. “Samuel Downing!” he barked out. “Show yourself!”

  “What do you want, Simon?” Sam asked, separating himself from the pack. He’d been holding one of the stakes.

  Of course he had.

  My brother narrowed his eyes, squinting against the haze. “Your father has been looking for you. Says you’re shirking duties here.”

  “I was with my wife, watching her give birth—to your daughter.”

  The other men stopped working, stilling to watch this unexpected confrontation play out.

  Watch.

  Sam jumped down from the platform and landed solidly on both feet. “Oh really?”

  “You son of a bitch! Couldn’t keep your hands off her, could you? How dare you even look at another man’s wife!”

  Sam smirked, fire reflecting in his eyes. “You poor simpleton. You truly don’t get it, do you?”

  A snicker rang out from the group behind Sam.

  Simon’s eyes darted wildly from Sam to the other men. “Get what?”

  “I always wondered how she managed to get it past you. Did she hide a vial of blood in the sheets on your wedding night, or were you just too stupid to look for it?”

  “What are you talking about, Downing?”

  Winthrop Mullins let out a hoot from the platform, tossing his hammer from palm to palm. In the firelight, he looked absolutely feral, a wolf circling in for the kill.

  So he had fired first.

  Poor Leland.

  “She was already pregnant when she married you,” Sam said, snorting and buckling over with laughter. “And you were too dumb to notice.”

  Simon shook his head. “That’s not true. That’s not possible. We—”

  “How’s it feel to be the town’s biggest cuckold, Simon Briard? The laughingstock of Amity Falls?”

  Simon’s jaw hardened as he fought back tears. He stepped away to leave, the men’s mirth turning ugly and jeering.

  Then Simon paused, his face twitching with a tic of rage. As he spun back toward Samuel, he removed something from the back of his trousers and hurled it into the darkness.

  The hatchet flew through the air, spinning in tight circles around itself, glittering and bright and reflecting the flames of our ruined town.

  It struck Sam square in his chest, lodging deep with a wet, pulpy thwack.

  Sam looked down at the handle, blinking in confusion, before falling to his knees. His body trembled once, then fell forward and moved no more.

  I did feel the moment when he passed, a pair of scissors snipping the tenuous thread connecting us, rendering it impossible to repair.

  “Sam,” I whispered, careful even in my grief to avoid being noticed.

  Winthrop jumped off the scaffolding and flipped my brother over. I turned away.

  “He’s dead,” he announced. Winthrop shot an uneasy look toward Simon. “You really killed him.”

  “Good. Only one more to go,” Simon said, turning on his heel and running off into the night.

  I drew a sharp breath, understanding his words.

  Rebecca.

  “Rebecca!” I cried, arriving at the parsonage. I’d run all the way, taking every shortcut I could. I had no idea if I’d managed to beat Simon back. Part of me had feared I was going to stumble straight into a bloodbath, but I’d pressed ahead, painful stitches stabbing at my sides. I’d already lost too many things I cared about. My heart couldn’t hold another regret.

  Letitia was nowhere to be found when I burst into the confinement room.

  Rebecca lay on the bed, the room heavy with the metallic taste of blood, but she was alive and well.

  “Ellerie!” she exclaimed, looking up from the small bundle in her arms.

  A moment of uneasiness passed between us. I waited for her eyes to harden, for a scowl to form.

  But she smiled.

  “Do you…do you want to see her?” Rebecca pulled back the quilt, revealing the smallest, most perfect profile I could imagine.

  I reached out, wanting to trace the curve of her chubby cheek, but noticed my fingers were caked with grime and soot, and with a trace of remorse, I pulled them away from my niece.

  “We have to get out of here,” I said. “Simon found out about Sam and—”


  “I know,” she said, her face falling. “I’ve never seen him so angry. He left—to talk to Samuel, I guess, and—”

  “Sam’s dead,” I said, unable to pad the blow. “Simon killed him. And he’s on his way to you.”

  Rebecca tightened her hold on the baby, bringing the bundle closer to her chest. “We’ll hide. The Briards have a root cellar. We can lock it from the inside.”

  “We’re leaving. Now. The town is caving in on itself. We have to get out of here before we’re all swept up in it. My sisters have a wagon ready. You’re coming with us. Both of you.”

  She glanced down at the bloodied bedsheets. “But—”

  “We’ll take every precaution we can, but we have to go,” I said, grabbing at spare quilts and sheets, anything to help pad the back of the wagon. “Now.”

  * * *

  The smoke from Amity Falls blanketed the whole of God’s Grasp, embracing the valley in a dark, lingering handshake, and making the trail to the pass almost impossible to spot.

  Sadie and I were at the buckboard of our stolen wagon, with me holding the reins. Merry was in the back, tending to Ephraim, Thomas, and Rebecca, and cooing to the baby girl.

  “What about the wolves?” Sadie asked as we reached the end of the wheat field. The pines loomed ahead of us, peering down like grim sentinels.

  “We’ll be safer in here than back there,” I reasoned with as much confidence as I could muster. I didn’t know how long it would take for the creatures of the forest to return to their usual states, their usual sizes, now that the Dark Watchers were gone, or if they ever would. Perhaps they’d all have to die before new life could return to this land.

  After a pause, I nudged the mares forward.

  Once in the sheltering arms of the woods, we dared to light the lanterns. With all the chaos in the streets, our flight from town had gone unnoticed, but I hadn’t wanted to draw any attention to ourselves as we’d made our way across the fields.

  The lanterns shone brightly, casting the shadows aside.