“Exactly,” said Bunge with a triumphant laugh. “Only your finest snooper could steal so many without a trace.”
“Then—then what about the snaphound tracks?” Olumphia said. “You followed them all the way to the wooded vales!”
“A decoy,” said Sackby.
“Impossible,” said Clout. “The wooded vales are fifteen miles away.”
“And who’s the best runner in the Guildling Hall? Who of your guildlings can run for hours on end without trouble?” asked Nibbick Bunge.
Clout and Olumphia exchanged a worried glance.
“Please! Tell the council.”
“Kalmar Wingfeather,” Clout muttered.
“Thank you, Guildmadam and Guildmaster. You’ve left us with little doubt.” Bunge turned to the crowd. “The infractor is obviously the Grey Fang.”
“Lies!” bellowed Podo. “These boys were asleep in their beds!”
“Were they?” Bunge looked at Podo and grinned. “Don’t take my word for it, Helmer. Why don’t you ask them?”
Podo blinked. He seemed unsure that he wanted to know the answer. “Janner, is what they’re saying true?”
“Janner,” Leeli said, “tell them! Tell them Kal didn’t take all those animals. He would never do such a thing.” Leeli looked at Kalmar. “You wouldn’t, would you?”
Kalmar’s answer was a heavy sigh. He looked at Janner, pleading with his eyes, and Janner knew he was asking him not to tell them about the cloven. Why was he willing to risk so much for the monster? Why would he give up his freedom—and his mother’s freedom—for the twisted thing in the cave?
But Janner knew the answer.I saw something that scared me to death, Kal had told him.I saw myself. Kalmar was the only person in all of the Hollows who would show mercy to a cloven, because only he knew how a cloven felt: hungry, outcast, and alone.
“There must be some explanation,” Nia said.
Even if Janner told them that Kalmar had done it all for a cloven, it wouldn’t change a thing. They’d still throw Kalmar and Nia in the dungeon, and then they’d hunt down the cloven and kill it. The Hollowsfolk had been looking for a reason to rid themselves of the Grey Fang, and now they had it. The cloven didn’t matter.
“Janner,” Nia said quietly, “is it true?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Janner couldn’t meet her eyes. “Kalmar took the animals. All of them.”
“He swiped my goatlings!” someone shouted.
“And my flabbits!”
“And my seven, or possibly four, hogpiglets!” said Durbin Thistlefoot.
“Yes,” Janner said. “All of them.”
A silence fell over the great hall.
“But that’s not all,” said Bunge. His eyes raked the crowd for a moment, then he motioned to a guard near the side door. “Bring in the servant girl!”
The doors opened and Freva entered, wailing into the chest of one of the guards. When she saw Kalmar, she tore out of the guard’s arms and raced across the room at him, screaming, “What have you done?What have you done?”
She landed on Kal and beat him wildly until Janner, Podo, and Nia managed to put themselves between them. One of the guards pulled Freva away and led her to Bunge’s side.
“Shall I tell the assembly,” Bunge said in a sickly gentle voice, “or would you like to, dear?”
“Oy, I’ll tell ‘em.” Freva took a deep, trembling breath and raised her voice. “Me daughter is gone! Dead! Eaten by the Fang!”
45
The Plan
Sara closed her eyes. It was over. The dagger lay half on the floor and half across the toe of her shoe. The Maintenance Manager let go of Sara’s arm. and she waited for the pain of his chain or his fist or the sound of his voice as he shouted for his fellow managers. She thought of Borley and the others who had followed her, of all the precautions she had told them to take, and the bitter irony that it was her who had spoiled everything.
The Maintenance Manager lifted the dagger from the floor. “What’s this?”
Sara shrugged, suddenly tired from the night’s work. “It’s a dagger. What does it look like?”
“You’re Sara, right?” the boy said.
Sara’s head snapped up. “How do you know that?”
“I’ve been listening. Paying attention. You think you’re being pretty sneaky, but it hasn’t been hard to tell that you’re planning an escape.” Sara’s cheeks flushed. “What do you plan to do with this dagger?”
“Why should I tell you?” Sara said, looking away.
“Because,” the boy said quietly, “I want to help.”
“What?”
“Name’s Wallis. I’m sick of this place. I’m sick of the Overseer. And I want out. Several of us have been talking and waiting for the right moment to do—something. We just didn’t know what so few of us could do. But there are a lot of you, aren’t there?”
Sara nodded, still not sure what to think of the toothless boy.
“What’s the plan?” Wallis asked.
Before Sara could answer, she heard shouting on the factory floor. The boy kicked the door open and pulled Sara after him.
She saw little Borley standing near the iron-bellied machine as it rattled and roared for more coal. Two Maintenance Managers had him by either arm while another shouted at him.
“You think you can throw a hunk of coal at me and get away with it, tool?” shouted the bigger boy.
Borley looked scared. But when he saw Sara watching him from the doorway, he found his courage. He smiled up at the Maintenance Manager and nodded.
Another friend of Sara’s, a girl named Trilliane from a village in the Linnard Plains, calmly walked over to a pile of coal, picked up a piece, and threw it at the same Maintenance Manager.
“Ow!” he said, rubbing his head. “Somebody get her too!”
Four more Maintenance Managers swung down from chains and dragged her to where Borley and the others stood.
“What’s going on here?” demanded the manager.
Borley and Trilliane shrugged. The Maintenance Manager answered by unfurling his chain and whacking it on the floor. Sparks flew, and the two children jumped.
Then Grettalyn threw a piece of coal too. A moment later she was dragged over with the others, and Sara counted seventeen Maintenance Managers around them, drawn by the commotion. Meanwhile, the rest of the slaves in the factory continued their work as if nothing was happening.
“That’s the plan,” Sara said. “Get all of you in one place. Surround you. Wait for the Overseer to show up.”
“Then what?” asked Wallis.
“Then we attack.”
“What if there are Fangs?”
“I’ve been praying to the Maker that there wouldn’t be any. They haven’t been around for a while, so I figured now was as good a time as any.”
The double doors at the top of the stairs banged open. Mobrik and the Overseer appeared, but they weren’t alone. Three Fangs of Dang slithered through the door, tongues flicking and teeth bared. Sara thought for a moment that the Fangs looked strangely frightened—there was something jittery about the way they moved.
Borley, Trilliane, and Grettalyn looked at Sara with wide eyes. Borley’s hand slipped up his sleeve, where she knew his dagger was hidden.
Sara shook her head at him and mouthed the words, “Not yet.”
“What’s going on in here, tools?” shouted the Overseer. He motioned to the Fangs and they followed him and Mobrik down the steps.
She had thought it might be possible to overcome the Maintenance Managers, and even Mobrik and the Overseer. But three Fangs? Jittery or not, it was too dangerous. One bite and the children in her care would die.
“It’s over,” Sara said. “I have to stop the children from doing anything.”
“Don’t,” said Wallis. “This is the closest I’ve come in three years to getting out of this place. Let me worry about the Fangs.” He hopped onto a barrel, swung up by a chain, and disappeared into the maze of rafter
s.
The Overseer approached Borley and the others while the Fangs stood a little way beyond him, snarling at the nearest children. Everywhere Sara looked, she saw her friends looking to her for guidance. They peeked from behind counters and glanced at her while they wheeled carts. They didn’t know what to do. But neither did she.
Sara calmed her nerves and thought about it. The plan seemed to be falling apart, but it didn’t have to. Yes, there were Fangs. She had hoped that wouldn’t happen. But there was also the surprise appearance of this boy named Wallis and his friends. She wasn’t sure if the two developments balanced each other out, but it didn’t matter. Sara and her army still had the advantage of surprise. The Overseer had no idea the factory floor was full of armed children—not just armed, but armed and ready to attack. If she gave a signal to abort the mission, poor Borley, Grettalyn, and Trilliane would be punished severely. The Overseer would discover their hidden weapons too, which would probably lead to a discovery of the whole revolt.
Sara thought about Janner Igiby, riding into the night on the Overseer’s carriage. She wanted that for these children. They may not make it far into Dugtown before the Fangs caught them, but she was sure at leastsome of them would escape. And the rest would know a few moments of freedom. If Janner’s escape had kindled her hope, then maybe what she was about to do would kindle even more in the rest of the slaves, and eventually the Overseer and his wretched factory would be no more.
Sara took a deep breath, clutched the dagger in both hands, and screamed, “Now!”
46
Freva’s Accusation
At Freva’s pronouncement, every soul in the hall gasped. They clamored for justice and Fang blood. The room shook with the outrage of Hollowsfolk. Kalmar whimpered and hid behind Nia. Even Clout and Olumphia looked at him with shock.
“Kal, what are they talking about?” Janner shouted over the din.
Kalmar shook his head in a panic. He tried to talk but the muzzle made his words unintelligible.
“This is going to get out of hand, and fast,” Podo said under his breath. He stood and bellowed, “WHAT PROOF HAVE YE? LET THE WOMAN SPEAK!”
Bunge blew a horn and calmed the crowd. The people quieted, but they simmered on the verge of a boil.
“Freva, have you the strength to speak?” Bunge put his arm around her and patted her shoulder. Freva buried her face in his chest and shook her head. “It’s all right, lass. Many of you know Freva’s been employed at Chimney Hill these last months, living in their guest quarters and raising her daughter—in the vicinity of the Fang.” The crowd seethed again. “Just this morning, not an hour after we arrested the dog and its brother, she found her daughter’s bed empty and footprints in the snow! We tracked it from Olliver’s coop to the monster’s den. We can only assume that among the bones in the cave were the remains,” Bunge’s voice cracked, “of her daughter.”
Janner leapt to his feet. “That’s a lie! He would never do that! I followed him to the coop and straight to the cave. We never set foot inside Freva’s house!”
“Then you snuck out with the Fang?” Bunge asked.
“Yes. Well, no, not exactly,” Janner stammered. “I followed his tracks to Olliver’s coop.”
“And those tracks led past Freva’s quarters?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then how do you know the Fang didn’t slip inside and steal the child first? Did you notice if he had already been to the cave that night?”
Janner had no answer. Hehadn’t paid attention to the tracks on the way to the cave; his mind had been elsewhere. He knew Kal hadn’t taken Bonnie—but he was too flustered to sort it out, especially with all the eyes watching him. All he could do was look at Kalmar.
“Sit down, boy,” said Bunge with a wave of his hand. “The council has already taken this evidence into consideration. We’ve decided that, given the brutal nature of the Fang’s crimes, it will be treated like every other Fang that has crossed our borders to kill and destroy our people.”
“Execute it!” someone shouted, and the rest of the Hollowsfolk took up the cry. “Execute it! Execute it!”
Freva wiped her nose and joined them: “Execute it!”
“Janner, what are they talking about?” Nia asked.
“It wasn’t him, I know it. They’re setting us up or something. Kalmar, tell her! It wasn’t you.”
Kalmar cringed at the voices screaming hatred at him. The crowd was on its feet, chanting, “Execute it! Execute it!” Those who had weapons shook them in the air.
The guards posted in front of the Wingfeathers cast nervous glances from Bunge to the crowd to each other. If something didn’t happen soon, the Hollowsfolk would riot and carry out the sentence themselves.
47
The Fingerless Glove
When Sara Cobbler gave the signal, a hundred and twenty-two children drew weapons and screamed. They charged the center of the factory where the Maintenance Managers, the Overseer, Mobrik, and three Fangs of Dang stood in confusion.
Wallis and four other boys dropped from the ceiling onto the Fangs. Wallis swung his chain around one Fang’s neck and pulled with all his might while the other four boys attacked with pipes and fists.
The Maintenance Managers who had seized Borley, Grettalyn, and Trilliane held up their hands and backed away from the many sharp points of steel aimed at them. Children who knew nothing of Sara Cobbler and her army saw what was happening, grabbed forks and swords from their workstations, and joined the revolt.
The Overseer cracked his whip and shouted orders at his Maintenance Managers. Mobrik’s eyes shot in every direction, looking for a way out, but Sara’s army advanced too quickly. In seconds, Mobrik and the Overseer disappeared beneath a pile of their own slaves.
Sara rushed toward the remaining Maintenance Managers and shouted, “Drop your chains! Drop them or we’ll attack!”
One of the bullies sneered and advanced on Sara, but Borley appeared and stood between them with his dagger raised. The manager laughed and shoved the little boy out of the way, but five other children placed the points of their weapons against the manager’s neck.
Sara smiled. “I warned you.”
The manager dropped his chain and raised his hands just as the last of the Fangs fell with a papery scream. Wallis’s arms were scratched and bleeding, but he and his friends clapped each other on the back and laughed with amazement that they were still alive. Mobrik and the Overseer both struggled against the throng around them until Sara spotted the whip on the floor and ordered the children to tie up the Overseer with it.
“Tie up the ridgerunner, too,” she said, then turned to the Maintenance Managers. “Are you with us, or do we need to find another use for your chains?”
Most of them stood with Wallis and his friends. The few who didn’t were wrapped in their own chains and placed on the floor with Mobrik and the Overseer.
It was over.
Sara stepped past the decaying Fangs and climbed the stairs to the platform where the Overseer had stood so many times to watch his slaves do his bidding. She looked out over the factory floor, now strangely still and empty of its captives.
Borley took Sara’s hand. “It worked, Sara Cobbler.”
Sara smiled at him. “Yes, Borley, it did.”
“Can I go home now?” Borley asked.
Sara’s smile fell. The truth was, she doubted Borley still had a home. Sara didn’t even know ifshe had a home. Who knew what had happened on the outside all these months? There could be an army of Fangs on the other side of the door waiting to snatch them up. “I don’t know.” She stroked his hair. “But I know we’re getting out of this place. Come on.”
Sara led the children down the long hallway and paused at the double doors that led to the main room where the Overseer’s carriage had unloaded each of them over the years. She hadn’t seen the room since the night she’d helped Janner escape. She motioned for the throng of children clogging the hall behind her to keep quiet so she c
ould listen. When she was sure it was safe, she pushed through the doors and led the children out of the darkness and into the light.
Thick beams of sunlight angled through high windows and lit the floor. The children held their hands up to the light as if it were the first time they’d ever seen it. The moment of awe was quickly broken, however, by squeals of delight and celebration. The children of the Fork Factory danced and ran and tumbled across the floor. They found water in a trough against the wall and splashed it on their faces, rubbing the soot away and meeting each other, in a way, for the very first time.
Sara leaned against the wall by the doors and smiled. It brought her great pleasure to stand apart from them and see their joy, and she was content to be the last thing from their minds.
Then the door to the hallway cracked open, and a hand wearing a fingerless glove slipped out and yanked her back inside. The jubilation of the other children was so loud that none of them heard Sara scream.
48
The Chumply Amendment
As the Hollowsfolk chanted for Kalmar’s death and his family huddled around him, there came a commotion from the back of the room. The crowd parted and someone pushed forward, interrupting enough of the chant that it fell apart and was replaced by shouts of annoyance. Janner spotted a top hat and after it a shiny bald head.
Bonifer Squoon and Oskar N. Reteep made their way through the crowd and approached Nibbick Bunge. Bonifer wore his suit coat with long tails and a bowtie. Oskar was dressed in a scarf and a fur coat and carried a thick leather satchel over one shoulder.
“What’s the meaning of this?” shouted Nibbick Bunge. “Outsiders aren’t allowed a voice in the council.”
The Monster in the Hollows Page 26