by Andrea Engel
Finn thought she’d seen him the last time he followed her, but after looking right at him, not surprisingly she left. Perhaps I’m beyond detection after all.
Basset was on lookout. Finn hurried down the stairs and entered the kitchen. Basset’s face still carried the faint traces of Finn’s outburst. “Basset, go get four hours of shut-eye. If there had been any sign of her in the last four hours, I would have heard, correct?”
“Yes, Mr. Finn. I understand the magnitude of the situation now. I know I deserved my punishment,” Basset said with a yawn.
“Good. She’d better come today, and if it’s a colossal waste of time like it was yesterday, she won’t be happy—or anything for that matter. What was that about? The girl didn’t go anywhere. She just sat by that revolting tree, forcing me to creep about after her! I’ve just about had it. It’s a good thing we’re prepared with plans A, B, and C this time. Right, Basset?”
Basset nodded.
“It’s a shame we’ll be moving on from such a welcoming home, though. Don’t you agree?”
Finn looked over at the worn Formica kitchen table where Basset sat, slumped down with his head on the cracked surface, sound asleep. Anger reared its head for a second, but there was no energy to sustain it.
Finn pulled a chair from the other side of the table and moved it closer to the window. She usually came by on his watch, and he was glad of it. He liked leaping into action without a middleman to delay things. They had switched once, twice, and then the sun was once again at the right angle in the western sky for her to grace them with her presence.
Her blond head passed by the window, and he took an extra beat to study her in that moment. She wore jeans and a light-pink sweater. A backpack was slung over her shoulder, and she held something in her hand. He leaned in a bit farther, but it was no good. He couldn’t risk giving himself away, though he was more than a little curious about what she was holding.
He exited the Fletcher house in record time, with hardly a sound, but paused before following her into the underbrush, when he spotted a long feline tail. “She has that nasty blue cat with her,” he whispered under his breath.
The cat’s ears perked up, and its nose wiggled, sniffing the air. Finn pressed his back against the old house and waited, not moving a muscle. He’d have to use extra caution during today’s pursuit.
By now, he knew the way, having followed her through the forest before. The signal that had been so strong when he first had seen the girl returned today. He wondered why.
The girl laid the package, wrapped in blue cloth, on the ground. Finn tried to contain himself. He was so excited he practically drooled.
This is it! She’s going to show me any second, and I’ll know the way. I’ll finally know.
It was a box. She had unwrapped it and was doing something to the bottom of it. When she put it back on the cloth, she opened the lid, and he heard. Notes from a distant time…it was coming back. Not that dreaded song! It was the song his sister person always sung or hummed or whistled. It drove him right over the edge! The worst part of it? She knew and did it anyway.
The music played for a few more seconds. The willow’s branches and bright-green leaves rustled in the still air. Then, before his eyes, they all disappeared: the girl, the cat, and the box. All that remained was that gnarled old tree.
That’s how she does it! All this time I’ve been thinking there was an actual key, but this makes more sense. All I have to do is get my hands on that box, and I’m home free!
He felt the presence and heard that familiar voice. The one that had aided him regularly over the many years since that first vision in the cabin, the one where the girl had plucked something from the ground and held it out. He liked this voice much better than bossy Mr. Helpful, who’d deserted him over forty years ago.
Good to see you again, Finn. You should follow her home. Then you can get in and out with that box when everyone’s gone for the day. You can take it for your own.
Finn looked around, but other than the shuddering of a few low-lying leaves, he saw nothing. “Why didn’t you tell me if you knew the key was the box?” he demanded.
I thought about what happened when they first brought you over to the other side. Consider it a form of protection until the time was ripe. You’re most welcome.
“Thank you…I suppose. You know what they did to me was wrong, don’t you?” He listened for a moment or two, but there was no further conversation. He decided it had been his own idea to steal the box in the end.
Good idea, Finn, he congratulated himself. Why, thank you. I am quite brilliant, aren’t I?
Finn sat on the ground, readying himself to wait for hours if need be. Not ten minutes flew by, and the girl was back: right where she’d disappeared.
He heard her say, “You’re welcome.” It raised him out of his reverie. How long will I have to listen to her whine before we get going?
“Hi, Banyan,” she continued. Finn watched as she reached into her pocket.
When she uttered, “Cooperation,” he almost lost it. His hands shook and reached out as if to strangle someone. Many a blade of grass died a gruesome death on the hill that day as Finn ripped them from their roots. He saw her looking around. Could she be looking for me? If so, I bet that blue excuse for a feline tipped her off.
It was quicker following her home than to the clearing. The cat wasn’t with her, so he could stay closer. He memorized how he’d have to return to the house. Finn also jotted down her house number and the name of her street.
I’ve been waiting and planning for this my whole life, even when I didn’t know it. I will breathe the air of freedom. I can almost taste it. Once I take them down, I’ll take everything.
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
The Eyes That Stole My Heart
Sadie strolled toward home. It had been two weeks since the disaster at the dance, and she’d made it through another busy, albeit grueling, day at school. Sam was still a featured player in her semiconscious daydreams, but she found that they helped her get through the loss, rather than make her obsessive.
Without everyone in Mystashan, it would’ve been unthinkably worse. Even Mom and Dad weren’t bothering her as much these days. She’d overheard them whispering to each other about “giving her breathing room,” which suited her well.
She turned onto her street and nearly bumped into a tall, old man in a dark-gray hat. His eyes grew large as their gaze locked. Sadie swore they had gone from brown to blood red as he nodded and skirted past her. Goose bumps erupted on her arms and at the nape of her neck. His eyes looked familiar in some way, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
She looked over her left shoulder, hoping another glance would help her pinpoint where she’d seen him, but the street was empty. She’d only taken three, maybe four steps. Hey! He can’t be off the street this fast. Where’d he go?
Red flashes split the sky. Then it hit her. Could they have something to do with this man? An image of her music box flashed in her mind. Fear rose in her throat, and she broke out into a full-on run. She didn’t stop until she was inside her bedroom with the door closed.
Breathing hard, she climbed her stepstool. From the top, she checked every inch of the shelf where she’d left it. Before totally freaking out, she checked the other shelves in case her mom was on a dusting spree.
It can’t be gone!
After tearing her room apart, she sat on her bed, her head in her hands. She allowed big, heavy tears to plop straight down to the rug. How could I let this happen? Gramma entrusted that music box to me. I’ve let her down. I’ve let everyone down!
Looking up, Sadie thought she saw another flash of red where her music box used to be. Again the red. That man and his eyes—is he the shadow man from my nightmares? He can’t be real. No way. Not in my house anyway. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead. The gravity of the situation gripped her heart. She collapsed onto the floor and begged, Gramma…please help me. Show me a sign—it would make me
feel a whole lot better. If you know where our treasure is, can you point the way, please? I was careful. How in the world could he know about our music box?
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
It Was Plan C All Along
Finn was consumed with maniacal glee. There were plenty of nice things to steal in that house, but this was a focused mission. He’d gotten only one prize out of it, but it was the one that mattered. Now he was on his way to that appalling tree. And from there…well, he knew where from there.
He laughed to himself as he thought about his recent encounter with the girl. That was interesting timing. She’s even more disturbing close up. But nothing else matters, now that I have the key.
He had a feeling she would look for him, so he had darted behind a nearby shed until she ran in the house.
He stopped by the house to get Basset. It would have been fun to share the main event with someone, but Basset would have to stay behind to secure his return.
They headed to Banyan. He could tell that Basset was curious, but there wasn’t a moment to waste. He’d been waiting far too long.
“Basset, I’ll explain later. You’ll see. Just wait here and hold up the rear guard. If I disappear, don’t worry. It’s all according to plan A.”
Basset nodded; every strand of his salt-and-pepper hair stayed in place. “I will, Mr. Finn. Will you be gone long?”
“It’s hard to tell, but you’ll be okay. You’re a resourceful man.”
“You really think so, Mr. Finn?”
“I said it, didn’t I? Now be still while I set up, won’t you?”
Basset didn’t answer; he did as told.
Finn set the stage for the ultimate moment of his life. He opened the music box.
Thirty seconds later…
He hurled the box toward the tree. Basset’s left arm, a foot away from Finn, shot out without his asking his master’s permission. His reflexes were quick enough to grab hold of the music box until his other hand caught up. He clasped it in front of the tree, having just saved it from total annihilation.
“Thank you, Basset.”
The box fumbled in Basset’s hands after those words, but then he steadied it as Finn marched toward him.
“That’s it! That’s it! It’s been her the whole time.” Finn poked Basset repeatedly in the chest. “We need her here, unfortunately. We’ll have to retrieve her, that manipulative mutt. We must do this now. I can’t let another sun set on this.”
“What do you need me to do, Mr. Finn?”
A stick cracked across the clearing. Finn heard its echo.
“Shh! Someone’s coming. It has to be her. Time to hide, here in the…” He gestured toward the cattails.
Once they were hidden, Finn turned to Basset. “Remember, you’ll have to stay here and wait for me. She can’t know you’re here. I need her by that tree. She can escape if she’s too far away. I want to enjoy this, and you should too. You played your part in making this happen.”
Basset, his eyes filled with delight, looked at Finn and whispered, “I’m so happy for you, Mr. Finn. You’ll finally have your reward…everything you’ve ever wanted.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
Knock on Wood
Sadie wrapped her arms around Banyan and sobbed. “Banyan, please let me in. Show me what I need to do,” she pleaded. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get back. Banyan! Thelo!” she cried out. “Please.”
Nothing. Not even a cricket chirped.
“Looking for this?” The tall, old man emerged from a thick growth of cattails and held up her music box. His clothes looked a few sizes too big and as though he’d gone weeks sleeping in them. He was a dusty mess, so she couldn’t tell how much of his hair was actually gray.
“You! How could you?” She ran at him. Fists pounded, swinging away. She kicked. She yelled. But even though he was old, he was stronger, and his arms were long. He placed his right palm on the top of her head, keeping her at a distance.
She could see him from here. His brown eyes were small and narrow, like his face. His expression was one she’d never seen before, with his eyebrows high, as though his skin stretched toward his temples. There was a vague but frightening familiarity to him.
Pleading for her music box had zero effect.
“You’re going to get me in!” the man roared.
She stopped swinging. “In?” She took a breath. “In where?”
“Come now, girl. Let’s not pretend. We both know what I’m talking about.”
Sadie stood, pale and defiant. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“We’ll see about that.” He grabbed her arm hard and dragged her toward the tree.
He gripped her so tightly that she could feel the bruises forming. She kicked with all her might but couldn’t gain any traction. “No!” she screamed, but no help came.
He pushed her to the mossy ground then pinned her down with a knee to her stomach. He rubbed his hands together and opened the music box.
Immediately Gramma’s soothing, sweet song played, and Sadie became more peaceful, despite the growing pain. “No…” she cried weakly, but it was too late. The softness took hold as she and the man grew more and more transparent.
The music stopped. The darkness faded.
Sadie opened her eyes, saddened that this was how she finally had arrived in Mystashan again, with this…this wretched man. She looked at him, her eyes blazing, and immediately noticed he hadn’t changed. There was no brilliance to him like there was with everything else that came here. He was just as dull as he was in their world.
They both turned to Banyan.
“Let me in, old tree.”
“Finn, you know I will never do that.”
“Yes, I figured you wouldn’t…but she will.”
“No, I won’t!” Sadie yelled. “Never!”
Finn pulled his sawback knife from his ankle holster. In an instant Sadie knew what he planned to do.
He hacked away at Banyan’s branches. Golden sap trickled out, a drop here and a few more drops from every wound.
“No!” screamed Sadie. “You can’t.” Tears streamed from her eyes.
Finn viciously stabbed Banyan over and over. He laughed as he stripped the tree of his bark and golden, shimmering leaves.
More and more sap ran freely.
Sadie heard Banyan’s screams inside her mind.
“Stop! Please stop. You’re hurting him!
“Let me in this minute, girl!”
When Sadie hesitated, Finn sank the knife into Banyan’s trunk hilt deep.
“Okay,” she said through choking sobs. “Okay, just stop. I’ll do it.”
“No, Sadie. You cannot.” Banyan’s voice was raspy and weak.
Sadie looked at the sap pouring from Banyan’s eyes and couldn’t take one more second of it.
“I’m sorry, Banyan,” she said. “I can’t let him hurt you anymore.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
Tied up in Knots
As Finn maneuvered Sadie onto the shore of Saponi Straime, the water tunnel rose. He noticed the silence immediately. The signal had been there, leading him to her, and now it was no longer there at all. It cut out once the water rose.
Holding on to Sadie’s arm was a lot like steering a car. Twist it, and the whole body moved.
“That’s more like it!” Finn laughed in her face. Overjoyed, he turned and waved to the tree. “See you later, ol’ friend. If you’re still able to see, that is…”
Sadie tried to run to Banyan, but Finn caught and held her arm, harder this time, and dragged her through the tunnel.
She sobbed uncontrollably, yammering on and on, screaming.
“You monster. How could you hurt Banyan? How could—”
Finn dropped the rock he used. Ah, silence. Finally. I thought she’d never shut up.
He hauled her unconscious body to a small grove of trees. With a handful of vines, he tied her to a sturdy oak.
Finn stood up tall. It was his best posture in
decades. He felt like howling his victory to the winds, but this was meant to be a surprise visit.
He backed up and surveyed the area. There was light up ahead, but here it was difficult to see through the tree’s shadows at night. He could tell that Sadie hadn’t moved. She was out cold, and the vines were more than secure. “Don’t go anywhere. I might still need you for this or that.” Finn bent over and whispered in her ear, “Piece of advice: if you have anything to do—inside your head, I mean—I wouldn’t wait until later. Soon there won’t be any later.”
He crept through the woods with care, hiding behind trees. A quarter moon at its zenith spared a thin light, but another, fuller moon rose ahead, enabling him to see his forward path. As he drew closer, he saw more clearly. He headed toward a barely remembered village.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
The Reunion
Rose opened the door to the stranger. There was something familiar about the man who stood before her. She studied his face but looked away before it became intrusive. She noticed it was etched much deeper than her own, as if he’d spent all his time in the sun, yet he was pale.
“Hello. Can I help you?”
“What, Rose? You don’t remember me? Don’t you recognize your own flesh and blood?”
Rose’s smile changed to confusion as she attempted to process his words. Family? They were all gone…her parents, and Finn, her twin brother. She could remember the night they’d told her he was dead as if it were yesterday. Rose looked long and hard at the man’s weathered face. Then she saw it…in his eyes.
“It’s impossible,” she exclaimed. “My brother passed away a very long time ago.”
Finn made a grand bow, dipping at the knees then returning to his full height; he was only a few inches taller than she was. “Nope. Didn’t die. They must have lied to you, Rose. Still here. Still going strong.” Finn offered her a strange smile.
It was then she saw the truth. It really was her beloved twin brother! She swayed on her feet a little. Holding on to the door for support, she burst out her welcome.