“I thought you were my friend!” She shoved the haze away, but it always came back.
“It’s for the good of the woods,” Bela said. He pulled her roughly toward the Master. Lenora struck him and twisted and planted her feet in the dirt, but he was much stronger than she was. She felt fire burst past her ear, and Bela exploded into flame, his hand slipping from her tangled hair.
“Let her go!” Uncle Richard bellowed, his voice strong and commanding. It did not halt or trip or crack. Lenora looked back at him. He had his cane. It was pointed directly at Bela as though it were some kind of gun. He leaned heavily on his right leg. “I have enough fire in my army to set all the woods aflame.”
“Ah,” Bela said, flames licking at his face. “But you have already lost.” And in one movement, he flung Lenora toward the Master, who lunged toward her at the same time. But Lenora, by accident, stumbled on the severed vine over which she had earlier jumped, and fell hard to the ground. Without a moment’s hesitation, she continued with the forward roll, like she and Rory had often done in their yard—a game to see who could roll the farthest. She rolled and rolled, continuously, until she was out of the way, caring nothing for the nightdress she still wore. She heard the Master scream behind her, and she launched herself to her feet and took off running toward Uncle Richard and his army. She ducked behind a tree and peered out. Bela was still on fire, and Uncle Richard aimed a continuous stream of fire at the Master. She felt a thickness settle in her throat. She tilted her head. A silver X—the same one she’d seen on Bobby’s door and her own—gleamed on the ground in front of the tree.
“Don’t hit the tree, Uncle!” Lenora said. She hurled herself out of hiding and raced toward the tree, toward the Master, toward the place where Bobby rested.
She had to see. She had to make sure.
“Lenora!” Uncle Richard shouted, and that’s when the clearing shook. Lenora looked back, and then she wished she hadn’t, because there on a large rolling platform with the wheels of a locomotive was her house.
Her house. From Texas City. Home.
She shook her head, trying to clear it. Surely this was only her imagination. But she did not have time to think more about it. The Master seized his opportunity and wrapped a bony hand around her arm. She tried to peel off his fingers, but they were like stone manacles.
He dragged her toward the tree.
“We will save the woods,” he said in a raspy voice she had never heard before.
Lenora tried to shake him off, tried to run back toward her uncle and the rolling home—her home—but she could not free herself from the iron grip of a man long dead and buried in mud.
This was all impossible.
Lenora screamed.
The limb above her burst into flames, raining sparks down on both her and the Master. The Master doubled over. Lenora saw her chance. She ducked inside the tree, where the ground was soft and wet. The mud nearly reached her knees, but she continued slogging through the sludge. The bog was larger than she’d thought—much larger. It must be some trick of the mind. It went on forever.
How would she ever find her cousin? She had almost decided on the futility of this foolish quest when she heard a whimper near her. Someone was there. She waded through more mud, trying not to notice the bits of bone that her movements uncovered.
The mud pulled at her thighs now, but she didn’t care. She reached the shadowed form in five more steps.
“Bobby?” she said.
It was a boy. He looked up at her with the same large, round, shining eyes she had seen on the boy in the portrait that hung in the hallway leading to Uncle Richard’s lab. This was Bobby. She was sure of it.
She pulled his arm. The mud pulled at her. She was sinking.
Lenora tried to remember what John had told her when he went through his obsession with quicksand. It had been annoying at the time, but now?
It would help. She remembered.
She laid flat on top of the mud, her legs squelching into the depths, and wriggled toward the tree’s opening, dragging Bobby gently along behind her. She still sank, but much slower than she had before. It was a painfully protracted escape, and she almost didn’t think she would make it. But at last she reached the entrance to the tree. She shifted, pushed Bobby out first, and crawled out after him.
“Almost there,” she whispered in his ear. A hand locked on her ankle. She looked back and saw the leering, toothless grin of the Master. The deep pits of his eyes made her dizzy.
“You think you can defeat me?” he said. “I am the Master here.”
The words vibrated through the trees, through the ground, through the whole world. Lenora shrank back from him. She glanced in the direction she had last seen Uncle Richard, but she could not find him anywhere. Twenty or so of his robots lay strewn about, destroyed. What had they done to him?
The Master yanked her back toward the tree. But Lenora would not have it. She would not become someone’s slave—dead or alive. She was overcome by an anger so fierce that one well-placed kick loosened his grip on her ankle. It was all she needed. She scrambled to her feet and pulled Bobby farther into the clearing. He weighed almost nothing at all, only skin and hollow bones, it seemed.
“Uncle Richard!” she shouted just before the Master was upon her again. She screamed and fought, but she could not overpower him. He pushed her down, and this time he grabbed both her ankles.
“You cannot win!” he shouted into the chaos. He wrenched her back toward the tree. The mud seemed to come alive, reaching for her limbs and curling black tendrils around them.
She scratched at the earth, and it worked temporarily; for a split second, she remained outside the dark hole long enough to see Uncle Richard launch another fireball at the center of the tree. His entire army burst into flames.
It was the last thing she remembered: fire.
66
Lenora woke minutes or hours later; she could not be sure. Her head ached. The entire clearing was on fire, and she was surprised that she could see it. She gasped, sucking hard for air, but it was too smoky. Her vision flashed with scenes from Texas City, and her courage faltered.
She could not do it again. She could not.
But she crawled on the ground, moving toward where she had seen Uncle Richard stand with his line of burning copper men.
Where was he?
The rhinoceros was the only thing left standing. It was breathing fire in a continuous stream from its wide-open mouth. Bobby was gone. Lenora wondered if Uncle Richard had saved him the moment he’d seen his son again. She had not even gotten a good look at him.
Would Uncle Richard come back for her? She doubted it. She would die here, in a fire, the way her family had done. She would be reunited with them after all.
Lenora’s arms buckled. She could crawl no farther. She gazed at the trees. They were all in flames. Crawling would do no good.
She could feel the heat from the house that had been her home, which stood burning beside her, and her insides burned right along with it. She closed her eyes.
Someone picked her up. “Lenora.”
It was her uncle. He had come back for her after all. He held her tightly and kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry,” he was saying, over and over again. And if she’d had words, she would have asked why. But her head lolled to the side, bouncing against his chest as he picked her up and tried to run as best he could. One of the copper men met him, and, in a haze, Lenora saw the robot flip back its headpiece. It was not a robot at all. It was Lloyd.
“Take her,” Uncle Richard said, and he shoved Lenora into Lloyd’s armored arms and ran back toward the burning clearing.
“Where are you going?” Lloyd called.
“To make sure it’s done,” Uncle Richard flung behind him.
“But you’ll die in there!” Lloyd shouted.
“Get her out of the woods!” was all Uncle Richard said, and Lenora felt her chest rip open with the knowledge that this might be the last time s
he saw her uncle. She forced her eyes open, though they were so hot and dry, and she watched his form growing smaller, the dark peppered hair on the top of his head standing straight up.
Lenora moaned.
“He’ll be fine,” Lloyd said. “You’ll see.”
He didn’t sound entirely convinced. Lenora closed her eyes.
When next she opened them, she was lying on the lawn of Stonewall Manor, close to the stone steps. The woods shook and crumbled, engulfed in flame.
She sat up. “No!” She could hardly breathe, even here, outside the burning woods.
Mrs. Jones took Lenora in her arms, and they both sat, watching the trees snap and pop. Lenora looked toward Lloyd, a few feet away. He had Bobby in his arms. Both were silently staring at the woods. A woman knelt beside them, leaning against a cane that looked very much like the one Uncle Richard carried. She had golden-brown eyes that reminded Lenora of Bela, and when she saw Lenora staring at the cane, she held it up and pointed it toward the woods. “This one comes equipped with water.” She patted a large barrel on the ground beside her, from which a black hose attached it to the cane. The way she said it made Lenora wonder if this was all prearranged, if this woman had known about Uncle Richard’s early-morning plans. The woman nodded toward the woods. “We can’t let that fire spread.” She and Lloyd exchanged a look.
Another hose extended across the lawn; to where, Lenora did not know.
“Where’s Uncle Richard?” Lenora said.
“Still inside the woods,” Mrs. Jones said. She stroked Lenora’s hair.
Lenora eyed her cousin. He was smaller than she expected. He had been gone eight years, but he didn’t look older than twelve.
Mrs. Jones glanced at Bobby, too. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She pressed her lips together and shook her head.
“Do you think he was frozen in time?” Lenora said.
“I know nothing about that,” Mrs. Jones said. “Your uncle . . .” Her voice split down the middle.
They stared at the blazing woods for what seemed like a very long time. The air smelled acrid and sulfurous, just like the air in Texas City the day of the disaster. Lenora shuddered. When she closed her eyes, all she could see was fire.
“Perhaps we should take them inside,” Lloyd said softly.
Lenora’s throat tightened. He couldn’t be gone. He couldn’t.
Lloyd motioned to the woman. “I’ll take the hose, Nadine. You take the boy.” Nadine looked at Lloyd sadly, touched his cheek, and nodded.
Mrs. Jones pulled Lenora to her feet.
“Can you walk, love?” Mrs. Jones said.
“I think so,” Lenora said.
Nadine was a small woman, but she carried Bobby with little effort. He looked like a doll in her arms, bony and limp.
“Will he live?” Lenora said as she watched Nadine climb the steps to the porch.
“I’ve sent for the doctor,” Mrs. Jones said. It didn’t answer Lenora’s question, but it told her there was hope.
Mrs. Jones glanced back toward the woods. Lenora followed her gaze.
At that moment, the entire woods exploded with such a violent crack that no one who stood even remotely near it could hear for some minutes. Lloyd was knocked off his feet by the blast. Mrs. Jones, Nadine, and Lenora were shoved from behind. Lenora turned in what felt like slow motion. Wood and leaves rained down around her.
It was too much.
The sorrow in her heart exploded like the woods, and she ran straight for the trees, her mind a blur of thought.
Uncle Richard.
No one could stop her.
67
The heat stung Lenora’s face when she entered. The smoke made it hard to breathe. Everywhere she looked was the same: gray and hazy.
Where was he?
The woods were vast; how would she ever find him?
Deeper and deeper she ran, ignoring the warning voices in her mind. She would not go back. She would not leave him. She would not let him die.
She would do everything she could—even if it meant sacrificing herself.
He had a life now. He had Bobby.
When Lenora saw Uncle Richard, she thought it was a dream. Her lungs ached, clawing for air that did not exist.
He was facedown. She dropped to his side. “Uncle Richard!” She wanted to shake him, but she didn’t know if that would make everything worse.
The eye she could see blinked open, and he struggled to roll over onto his back, moaning. The left side of his face was badly burned. “Lenora,” he whispered. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Come on,” she said. She tried to pull him up.
“No,” he said. “Leave me. My leg. It’s twisted.”
Lenora looked at his legs, and she saw that he was talking about his right leg. His good leg. She searched around for his cane. “Where’s your cane, Uncle?” she said.
“Go, Lenora,” he said. “Please.” His head dropped back to the earth. The woods crackled around them.
“No. I won’t leave you.” She slid an arm under his neck and heaved with all her might.
“You must live.”
“Not if you die!”
“You have Bobby now. He’ll need you.”
“No, Uncle!”
Uncle Richard closed his eyes again. “Go,” he said. His voice seemed to be growing fainter. They were running out of time. Lenora could feel it in her chest, too.
“Get up!” she screamed. A tree branch above them split and crashed to the ground near Lenora’s left foot.
“Save yourself, Lenora,” Uncle Richard said. He didn’t even open his eyes. “Everything I did, I did for you.”
“I’ll never leave you!” The woods seemed to vibrate in time with Lenora’s words. Another flaming branch landed beside her hand.
The woods would fall on top of them, but she would not leave. She would not leave like she had done in Texas City.
“Get up, Uncle!” The pitch of Lenora’s voice had become a shriek. “Get up! Get out of the woods! Don’t leave me! I don’t want to be alone again! Please!”
She sank to her knees, sobs shaking her.
“Lenora.”
Lenora looked up. “Lloyd.”
Hope bloomed in her chest.
“Get out of here, Lenora.” Lloyd’s face was covered with copper armor, so his voice was muffled. Lenora didn’t hesitate this time. She ran, the bottoms of her feet burning on sparks that danced across the grass and the fallen tree limbs.
Lloyd nearly beat her out of the woods, though he was carrying Uncle Richard.
“Is the doctor here?” Lloyd shouted toward the manor’s porch. He gently set down Uncle Richard in the grass and turned his attention to the woods, which snapped and sizzled behind them. He had picked up the water gun, ready to stop the fire as soon as it touched the grounds of Stonewall Manor.
But it never did. It burned and raged inside the woods, but it never crossed the boundary line.
And before the fire was done with its burning, the trees unbent and untwisted and straightened their backs. They became like any other ordinary pine trees—tall, thin, majestic.
Alive.
Three silver birds—at least Lenora thought they were birds—fluttered into the sky and disappeared.
68
The doctor spent most of his time with Bobby.
He couldn’t find a scratch on him. He prescribed rest and nourishment—the lack of which he attributed to Bobby’s stunted growth. His lips pressed into a thin line at the declaration.
But Lenora knew it wasn’t lack of nourishment or stunted growth; it was the Master and the woods. They had preserved Bobby in time, kept him exactly as he had been the day he’d disappeared. He had not aged a day in the eight years he’d been gone. He was twelve when he’d walked into the woods for the last time, and he was twelve when he’d walked back out. Somehow. Science couldn’t explain it, but many wonders of the world could not be entirely explained with science. Some called that magic, and maybe
it was.
Uncle Richard had three broken ribs, a broken leg (the right one this time), and a battery of bruises. The left side of his face was treated for third-degree burns, and he would need more treatment as well. He refused the hospital.
Dr. Kane examined Lenora last.
“A bit of rest will do her good,” Dr. Kane said to Mrs. Jones, who hovered beside her. He was a tall, wiry, white-haired man with steely gray eyes that missed nothing. “She’s inhaled a lot of smoke, but I don’t see anything else wrong.” He lifted her arm and pointed. “The bottoms of her feet are blistered a little, and there’s a small burn here, but it’s nothing rest won’t heal.” Lenora had forgotten all about the mark of Bela’s tear. Her heart thudded. Dr. Kane looked at her with keen, intelligent eyes. “You’ll make a full recovery, I think.” He straightened and twined his hands together, rocking on the balls of his feet. “It seems as though it’s a happy ending for all.” His voice teetered at the edges, and malevolence crossed his face, but he smoothed it away easily. Lenora watched him closely. She did not trust him entirely, now that she’d seen that flicker of darkness.
She hoped he would leave.
Instead, he lingered. He said, “Your uncle found a boy he can call his son.”
“Bobby,” Lenora said. “We found him.”
“He’s been gone a very long time. Eight years.” Dr. Kane examined a fingernail.
Lenora balled up her fists. “He was trapped in the woods and—”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Mrs. Jones said, steering Dr. Kane toward Lenora’s door. “That will be all.”
The doctor hesitated at the door. “I’ll come by again tomorrow, to check up on everyone.”
Mrs. Jones nodded and said, “Thank you.” She closed the door softly and returned to Lenora’s side.
“He doesn’t believe us,” Lenora said.
“Yes, well.” Mrs. Jones smoothed the cover on Lenora’s bed. “You know how men of science are.”
“My uncle is a man of science.”
“Your uncle is . . .” Mrs. Jones seemed to search for a word. “Unusual.”
The Woods Page 21