by John August
Indra’s eyes narrowed. “Wait, here? Like here, here? This valley, with the pine tree?”
“I think so. Maybe.” He took a step forward, surveying the meadow in front of them. “It all looks familiar, sort of the way a dream seems familiar. And it’s not just the tree and the mountains. Over there, the moraine field—” He pointed at a slope covered with massive boulders. It looked like a cliff had been smashed by a giant fist. “I feel like I’ve been there. We hid in there for a while.”
“Who? You and Katie?” asked Indra. Connor nodded. “What else do you remember?”
“There was a house. I remember knocking on the door. It swung open, like there wasn’t even a lock.”
“What was inside?”
Connor strained to remember, but came up with nothing. “Everything goes black after that. Next thing I knew, it was weeks later and I was in Canada. Katie was gone. They didn’t want me. They only wanted her.”
“Like they only want Arlo?” asked Julie. She was slowly coming up to speed. “If it’s him they’re after, maybe they’ll let us go, too.” As she said it, she deliberately didn’t make eye contact with Arlo.
Indra was offended. “You can’t be serious. We’re not going to give up Arlo. He’s our friend and fellow Ranger.”
“So are we,” said Jonas. “Yet somehow you didn’t tell us anything about what was going on. We’re here because of you, and because of him.”
“We’re not giving up Arlo,” said Connor. “We’re going to figure a way out of this together, as a patrol. No debate, no second-guessing. Understood?”
Jonas and Julie reluctantly nodded.
Wu had stayed out of the squabble. Now he pointed off to the distance, squinting. “Guys? There’s something over there.” He dug the binoculars out of the sled, focusing as he peered through them. “It’s like a little stone cabin.”
He handed them to Connor. Everyone waited for his verdict. He nodded slowly. “Yeah. That looks like the house I remember.”
The binoculars were passed down the line. When it was finally Arlo’s turn, he found himself disagreeing with both the terms house and cabin. The building in question was a circular pile of stones held together with mud. The roof was made of sagging wood and animal skins. A broken door hung askew in its frame.
This was at best a hut.
“We need to check it out,” said Wu.
Indra scoffed. “You’re kidding, right? It’s obviously a trap. It couldn’t be more of a trap if it had cheese and a giant spring. This witch, or like-a-witch, is waiting for us to go in there so she can catch us just like she caught Connor and Katie when they were little.”
“She’s right,” said Arlo. “We can’t go.” Indra was happy to have someone else speaking common sense. But then Arlo continued. “I should go alone.”
Connor dismissed that idea. “First rule of exploring: you never split the party.”
“Unless you’re sending a scout. That’s in trailcraeft.” Arlo had been reading ahead in the Field Book. “I’ll be the scout. You guys stay here and build a ward around the sled. I don’t know if it’ll protect you, but it can’t hurt.” He took off his parka and perched it atop the others on the sled.
Indra tried to talk reason. “Arlo, you’re obviously the one she wants. If you walk in there, she’s got you. Then what? We’re not any better off.”
Jonas agreed. “We need you as a bargaining chip.”
“That’s not at all what I’m saying!” snapped Indra.
Wu focused on his friend. “Arlo, you can’t go in there. If she sees you, you’re dead or worse.”
“She won’t see me.”
* * *
Arlo untied the rope from the sled. He wasn’t sure this would work, but something told him it was possible. From the moment they’d arrived in the valley, he’d felt something. A tingle on his skin. A buzz in his bones. At first, he thought it was just fear, but as the initial panic passed, the sensation only increased. The Long Woods had a vibration. Every tree, every leaf, every rock was humming.
And he was humming along with them.
He held a section of rope in his hands and began folding it back on itself, twisting and gathering the loops. Indra was the first to recognize what he was trying to do. She motioned for everyone to give him space.
Unlike the bowline or two half hitches, there didn’t seem to be an exact method for tying a knaught. It was more like art. You just kept working at it until you felt a change. Slowly, the rope became more supple, until he couldn’t quite tell one loop from another. But his fingers never lost their place. They wove in and out, pushing and tugging.
Arlo closed his eyes, feeling as the fibers came alive. They started moving without being touched—but they were still under his command. The rope was heating up. He could smell it starting to scorch. So he slowed down. Took his time. A few more twists, then the final loops melted into place.
He opened his eyes. He opened his hands. There, tied in the middle of the rope, looked to be a simple overhand knot. On closer inspection, he could see tiny glimmers of light pulsing within the fibers.
He had tied a slipknaught. On purpose this time.
Indra was amazed. “How did you do that?”
“I don’t know. It’s like the rope moves through itself.”
“It must be extra-dimensional,” said Wu. “Think about it. You can’t tie a normal knot like that in three dimensions, not without having one of the ends free. But if you had four dimensions, it would be easy.” Realizing he had overstated it, he added, “Well, not easy, but possible.”
Indra agreed. “Maybe that’s why you can only tie knaughts in the Long Woods, and places close to it.”
“Same with snaplights and thunderclaps,” said Connor. “You have to bend space to do them.”
“Snaplights and thunderclaps are useful,” said Julie. She pointed at Arlo’s rope. “How’s that going to help anything?”
Arlo wiggled his fingers into the knaught, carefully pulling it open. As before, his thumbs disappeared. The space inside was shimmering like a soap bubble. He kept tugging at the edges to make the circle wider, until it was the size of a bicycle wheel. At every moment, he felt the knaught trying to squeeze itself shut. Gripping the rope tight, he stepped his right foot through the opening. His leg disappeared up to his thigh, yet he was still standing in front of them.
“Whoa,” said Jonas, speaking for the group.
Arlo stepped his left foot into the opening. It too vanished, leaving him standing with only the upper half of his body visible. “I don’t know how long this will last. You guys work on the ward.”
“What do we do if she comes?” asked Wu.
Arlo looked to Connor. “Do a thunderclap. I’ll hurry back.”
“Wait!” said Indra. “I’m going with you.”
Wu shot her a look. “You said it was a trap!”
“Which is why we can’t let him go alone. He’ll get himself killed.” She put her hands on Arlo’s shoulders, ready to step in. “Besides, if there’s something important in there, I’m more likely to know what it is.”
Arlo had to agree on that point.
He held the rope steady while Indra stepped in. It was a tight squeeze, but they both managed to fit inside. Then, with a flick, he pulled the loop over their heads. The knaught suddenly contracted as the rope fell to the ground. The fibers writhed, pulsing with energy.
Arlo and Indra had vanished.
28
THE HUT
THEY WERE THERE, BUT NOT THERE.
To their right, Wu and Julie were gathering red stones. Back at the sled, Connor and Jonas were sorting and stacking them to build the wards. Arlo and Indra could see their lips moving, but couldn’t make out what they were saying.
“Why can’t we hear them?” asked Indra.
Arlo thought back to summers swimming at the crowded pool in Philadelphia, how loud it was at the surface, and how quiet it was below. “I think it’s like we’re underwater.”
<
br /> Indra nodded—that’s how it felt. Even the air seemed thicker, bending the light so it shimmered. Her hands sparkled as if dipped in glitter. She pointed to the rope on the ground, where the knaught was glowing brightly. “Should we take it with us? In case we need it again?”
Arlo reached down to pick it up. His fingers went right through the rope. Confused, he reached for the sled. His hand swept through the frame.
The slipknaught’s enchantment had rendered them not just invisible, but intangible as well. They couldn’t touch anything, nor be touched—yet they weren’t falling through the ground to the center of the planet, so that was a plus.
Arlo thought about Cooper, stuck halfway between worlds, silently barking at things that weren’t there. Maybe death was like a slipknaught that never untied.
The thought made him shudder. He and Indra had stepped through a hole into the land of the dead. Suddenly, this didn’t seem like such a great idea.
At least he wasn’t alone.
“We should go,” said Indra. “We don’t know how long we have.” Arlo agreed. He hoped the effects would last more than a few minutes, but less than forever.
Walking felt normal, except every footstep was silent. As they approached the pine tree, Arlo and Indra could see the individual needles burning. Glowing red, then white, they curled up on themselves before finally crumbling into ash.
Indra tried to catch one as it fell, but it passed right through her hand.
The hut was just ahead. It sat in the middle of a riverbed, where a tiny stream of melted snow spilled across rocks. Dragonflies flitted from puddle to puddle. Animal bones and carcasses were scattered among the smooth stones, garbage tossed aside after a meal.
Indra pointed to the door. It was swinging slightly, like it had just been opened. But it could have also been the wind.
They carefully approached. There was enough of a crack between the door and the frame that Arlo could peer inside. Indra leaned on his shoulder, straining to get a look as well.
The hut was a single room with a mud floor. No windows, no real furniture, just a filthy mattress with hay poking out of it. A heavy kettle hung over the ashes of a fire. Other than the door, the only light came from a rip in the ceiling. Definitely not a cabin, Arlo thought.
Suddenly, a shape moved past. Indra gasped and tucked behind the wall. Arlo fell on his butt.
The woman had been standing in the one spot in the hut they couldn’t see. She slowly turned towards Arlo. For a moment, he was sure she saw him. But her eyes never focused on him. The slipknaught’s enchantment seemed to be working.
He carefully sat up, leaning close to the door.
The woman was no longer dressed as a Warden. Instead, she wore a dirty blue summer dress that was tattered at the edges. Despite the state of her clothes, she was undeniably beautiful: tall and strong, like the women on magazine covers. She seemed to be lit by an inner glow. Arlo felt he could watch her for hours and never look away.
She was speaking—but to whom? He was pretty sure there was no one else in the hut. Because of the enchantment, he couldn’t hear what she was saying. Not that he necessarily would have been able to understand it anyway.
Indra whispered, though she probably didn’t need to. “That thing in her hand. It’s a speakshell. I’ve read about them.” The woman brought a spiral conch to her ear, as if listening to the ocean. “They come as matched pairs. Anything you say into one gets whispered out the other, like a tin-can phone without the string.”
Arlo remembered making one, except with two plastic cups and dental floss. “She’s talking to somebody. Maybe telling them that we’re here.”
“Or getting instructions about what to do next.” As if on cue, the woman put the shell to her ear again.
“What do you think she is?” asked Arlo.
“If I had to guess, I’d say she’s a hag. It’s like a forest witch. That’s definitely not her real form.”
“How do you know?”
“Look at her feet. She’s barefoot, but her feet are completely clean. It’s all an illusion.”
Suddenly, the woman—the hag—was finished with her call. She tucked the shell into a dark nook inside the wall, then headed for the door. Arlo and Indra tucked back so she wouldn’t walk right through them.
“We need to follow her,” said Arlo.
“Wait. She’s not headed for the sled.” Indra was right. The hag was squatting over a puddle. They watched as she began pulling a net out of the water. It was much bigger than they would have imagined possible. As she tugged it up, she picked off crawdads and urchins, smashing them between rocks.
Arlo’s eyes narrowed. “I think she’s hungry.”
“Good. We have a few minutes.” Indra stepped into the hut before he could object. Arlo decided to follow her. If the enchantment wore off, at least they’d be out of sight.
The area of the hut they hadn’t seen was the most interesting. A crude shelf held various herbs and ingredients. Some of the jars were clearly from the normal world, with faded supermarket labels reading THYME or ROSEMARY. But inside were swirling beetles, spiders, or sand. Indra tried to pick one up, forgetting that her fingers couldn’t grab anything.
At the back of the hut, a cage hung from the roof by a rope. It was made of thin branches rather than wire, but in most ways resembled the home of a parrot or cockatiel. It was wrapped with a dirty cloth, except for the lowest few inches.
Arlo leaned in to look. The bottom of the cage was littered with cracked bones. They weren’t just stripped of the meat. They had been split open, the marrow sucked dry.
Suddenly, the cage shook. It swung on the rope, spinning. Arlo backed away as the cloth fell off the cage. The hut was now brightly lit.
Two wisps floated in the cage. They rammed themselves against the wooden slats, futilely trying to get at Arlo.
His panic returned, heart beating in his throat. “They can see us! We’re not invisible.”
Indra carefully approached the cage. She moved her hand along the far side. The wisps paid her no attention. “I don’t think they can really see us. But they sense you’re here. It’s like they’ve been trained to find you.”
Arlo peeked out the door. The hag was still hunched over the puddle, picking through her net. For all their fury, the wisps evidently weren’t making enough sound to attract her attention. “She was the one who sent them. That night in the forest, they were looking for me specifically.”
“I think so.” Indra looked around. “We need to keep searching. There might be—” She stopped short, unsettled.
They both felt it. Something was happening.
If the slipknaught was like being underwater, this was like surfacing. With an audible whoosh, the enchantment came to an abrupt end. They felt themselves shoved back into the ordinary world—or at least the extraordinary world of the Long Woods.
Their skin was no longer shimmering. They were visible again.
A bit dizzy, Arlo carefully made his way to the door to check on the hag. “She’s still there.”
“Let’s keep looking. Maybe we can find something useful.”
By the light of the wisps, it was clear the walls were riddled with pockets and niches. They found tin necklaces, long needles, bird skulls and marbles.
High on the wall where he couldn’t quite see, Arlo’s fingers touched something soft. Cloth. He pulled it down. It was yellow, the color of supermarket mustard. Even before he unfolded it, he knew what it was.
His uncle’s neckerchief. He recognized the dried bloodstain.
Indra took it from him. She checked the logo, confused. “It’s from Pine Mountain Company.”
“It was my uncle’s. He lent it to me. I had it at the first meeting, but then I couldn’t find it afterwards.”
It was never lost, Arlo thought. It was taken.
“But that’s impossible,” said Indra. “We never had a Yellow Patrol.”
Arlo couldn’t explain it. “He said it was his.”
On a hunch, Indra held the neckerchief near the cage. The wisps immediately frenzied, desperate to get it.
“They’re like bloodhounds,” she said. “They’re trained on the scent, or something like a scent. That’s how they sensed you even when they couldn’t see you.”
She handed him back the neckerchief. He was tucking it into his cargo pocket when—
BOOM! A thunderclap.
Arlo looked back outside. The hag was gone.
29
TOOBLE
THE WINDS HAD SHIFTED.
Smoke from the burning tree was now drifting across the valley floor. Arlo squinted, his eyes stinging. He couldn’t see the hag. He couldn’t see his friends back at the—
BOOM! Another thunderclap.
They were in trouble.
Arlo and Indra ran towards the sound. The smoke kept getting thicker, scratching their throats, burning their lungs.
Indra pulled off her neckerchief, dipping it in one of the dirty puddles. She held it to her mouth, breathing through it. She gave a thumbs-up—it helped. Arlo followed her example, plunging his own neckerchief into the muck. The wet fabric smelled like pond scum and gym socks. But it worked. He could breathe again.
They pressed onward through the smoke. As they passed the burning tree, all they could see was a glowing orange smudge. But they were close. The edge of the woods—and the patrol—had to be just ahead.
Suddenly, the wind shifted again, lifting the smoke up like a bedsheet. Surprised to find themselves suddenly exposed, Arlo and Indra dropped to the dirt, crawling behind a flat rock.
The hag stood just twenty feet away, her back to them. The fishing net was tied around her waist like a sash. Their friends huddled behind the sled. Connor shielded Julie and Jonas, warning them, “Don’t look her in the eye!” Wu kept his gaze down, but held the chili pot as a weapon.
Indra pointed to the stacked stones. “The wards are working,” she whispered. “She can’t get any closer.”
Indeed, the hag seemed to be blocked by an invisible wall. She began circling the sled, one hand feeling for cracks in the protection. As she moved, the patrol sidestepped in the opposite direction, always keeping the maximum distance from her. They were careful not to bump into the wards.