Always October (25 page)

“There are monsters down there!” he whined.

“There's going to be one more monster down there in a minute,” growled Jacob. “You'll do better to get there by climbing down than you will by falling.”

“I'd start now if I were you,” I added. “I don't know how much longer this bridge will hold, even if we don't pull out any more twigs. Ooops!” I added, pulling out another twig. “There goes one now.”

The monster groaned, then began to scramble down the bridge.

“You'll pay for this!” he roared.

My arms were trembling, and I could see the cords standing out in Jacob's neck. But I knew that neither one of us wanted to be responsible for the death of this monster. We just wanted him far away from us. Far, far away.

The creature was sliding down the bridge now, obviously aware that we might not be able to hold it much longer.

Moments later, we saw him reach bottom, let go, and splash into the river.

With a gasp, we released the twigs, not caring if the bridge fell or not. It did, writhing like a three-hundred-foot-long snake as it plummeted toward the river below.

Trembling from the effort, gasping for breath, we continued watching. After a commotion in the water we saw the monster scramble onto one of the rocks. He climbed to the top and looked up, shaking his fists at us.

Our attention was brought back to our own predicament when Sploot Fah, the half of him that was still with us, began to scream … not a sound of fear but of deep, aching loss.

“Half gone!” he wailed, gazing across to the opposite cliff.
“Half is gone!”

He flung himself down next to Jake and began to sob.

“Grampa and Mrs. McSweeney are gone, too,” I said to Jacob. The words were like acid in my mouth. “Mazrak's monsters took them. They got Keegel Farzym and Teelamun, too. They must have been following us, because they came out of the woods while you were trying to get up the bridge.”

“So now it's just us,” said Jacob bitterly. He forced himself to his hands and knees. “Unstrap LD, will you?”

I began to unwind the silk we had used to bind the baby to his back. I was nearly done when another cry from Sploot Fah made me turn. He had returned to the edge of the cliff and was gazing at the far side. “Sploot Fah gone,” he sobbed. “Gone!”

I don't know what it was that alerted me, maybe just a shift in the way he was standing, but all of a sudden I knew what he was about to do. Dropping the silk, I bolted toward him.

“Sploot Fah, don't!” I screamed.

I grabbed him just in time to keep him from leaping into the chasm.

“Let go!” he cried. “Let go! Got to get other half!”

“Not that way,” I panted, struggling to draw him back from the abyss, fearing that he might pull me over with him instead. “Your other half is still alive. If you jump and die, then
he
will be alone. You don't want that, do you? He's still with my grandfather and Mrs. McSweeney. They will all help take care of each other.”

I had wrestled him a few feet from the cliff but didn't dare let go, as I was still afraid of what he might do. He spoke no more, but his body continued to shake. I wished I could do more to help him. The only thing I could think of was to be there, letting him know he wasn't alone, just as I had done with Jake that day in the cemetery.

“Hurts,” he moaned. “Hurts in here.”

He put those odd, spadelike fingertips against his chest, and fresh tears spilled out of his enormous eyes.

“Lily,” said Jacob softly. “We need to get moving.”

I sighed. “Will you still come with us?” I asked the half Sploot Fah.

He sniffed and nodded. “Yes. Still got to help Jake protect the baby. That's the most important thing.”

“Thank you, Sploot Fah.”

“No, not Sploot Fah. Not now.”

“Then who are you?”

“Don't know. Not Sploot. Not Fah. Don't know who I am.”

“We have to call you something,” Jacob said, his voice gentle.

Our small friend paused, then said, “Call me Toozle.”

“Toozle?” I asked.

He nodded. “Toozle is word for squishy stuff left on bottom of foot after you step on a bug. Feel like toozle now, so that is what you should call me.”

“All right, er, Toozle. Will you still guide us? We still need you.”

And that was true … we did need him. But I also hoped that acting as our guide might help distract him from the terrible pain he was suffering.

The forest we passed through now seemed younger, more springlike in some ways … very different from the massive old trees we had gotten used to. Maybe that's why it didn't feel as threatening. Which was stupid. I should have realized by this point that appearance and reality were not necessarily the same thing.

We had gone maybe a half a mile when I heard something that stopped me in my tracks.

“Grampa?” I whispered.

Jake looked at me nervously.

“Didn't you hear that?” I asked.

“Hear
what
?”

“My grandfather! He's trapped. He needs my help!”

“Lily, I don't hear anything.”

“I don't care if you hear it or not! Grampa needs help and I'm going to him.”

“Trick!” cried Toozle. “Bad trick. Don't listen!”

“No, no, it's him!” I insisted as my heart flooded with indescribable relief. I turned, and with a wild cry of “I'm coming, Grampa!” I dashed into the forest.

“Lily, don't!” I heard Jake shout from behind me.

He was too late. I was already off the trail and into the woods.

Not that I would have stopped anyway.

I really should have known better, especially after what had happened to Jacob. But it was my
grandfather
calling me.

I hadn't gone more than three or four steps when I felt a surge of dizziness. Where was I? Oh, right … the Forest of the Lost. But I had just entered. All I had to do to get out was turn around and go back the way I came, right?

Um, not really. I turned, but even though I had taken so few steps, I could see no sign of the path I had just left.

Fighting a surge of panic, I walked toward where I thought I had entered. It didn't take long for me to know I had walked twice as far as I had coming
in
to the wood.

I turned and walked back. “Grampa?” I yelled. “Grampa, where are you?”

Silence … then his voice in the distance, calling for me.

I ran in the direction of the call. The forest was dark and shadowy, but enough light filtered in from the full moon for me to see where I was going. I had only run a little way when I heard him again. Only now his voice was behind me.

I turned and ran in the new direction, ran until I had to stop to catch my breath. As I stood, gasping for air, the world seemed to spin and I heard my grandfather's voice coming from two directions at once. With horror, I accepted that it was not him calling after all.

It was the forest.

That was also when I understood, deep in my gut, what a stupid, stupid thing I had done by blundering into this place.

I wondered if there was a way out, some secret trick that would let you find your way back to the path.

If not, would I wander here forever?

As despair overwhelmed me, I heard a deep sobbing not far away. Thinking it was likely another trick, but unable to resist the hope of finding someone to talk to, I headed for it. As I got closer, I dropped to my knees and crept in the direction of the sound.

Sitting beneath a tree, bathed in moonlight, was a hulking figure dressed in nothing but a pair of tattered pants. He had massive arms and bulging calf muscles. I could not see his face, for it was buried in his hands and surrounded by a shaggy mass of hair. It was easy enough to understand why he was weeping. Or was it? Was this another trick of the forest? What if the tears were only to draw some sympathetic idiot (like me) within reach of the monster's hands?

I backed away, trying to move as silently as a bubble on the wind. I failed at that, for the monster dropped his hands and looked up.

“Who's there?” he called in a deep voice.

I didn't answer. It didn't matter. His gaze fell on me almost at once. His face was like a lion's, and I realized with terror that the mass of hair was actually a mane. He stood, then leaped in my direction. I screamed and scrambled backward. It did no good. He was amazingly fast and with two more leaps had reached me.

He pinned me to the ground with one enormous hand.

I screamed again and again.

“Stop!” sobbed the monster. “Please stop! There's no need to fear. I don't want to hurt you. I just want to know if you can tell me how to get out of here.”

I shook my head, still too frightened to speak.

He burst into new sobs, his huge, hot tears falling onto my face. “Of course you can't. You're trapped, just like me. Oh, what a fool I was to enter here just because …” Suddenly he stopped, looked to his right, then cried, “Yes! Yes, I hear you! I'm coming!”

Releasing me, he bounded off among the trees.

I lay there, staring at the bits of moon I could see through the leaves, and wept bitter tears. I would never get out of this place, never see Jake or LD again. How long could I last in here? Was there food and water … or would I meet a slow death from thirst and starvation?

Rolling over, I buried my face in my hands and sobbed until exhaustion claimed me, and I fell asleep. I don't know how much time passed before I was woken by someone tapping me on the shoulder.

I
stood, staring at the spot where Lily had disappeared into the forest. And then it hit me—this was the Forest of the Lost! And my best friend had just plunged into it.

Now I was standing here with a baby, half of a monster, a talking cat, and a horrible question: should I wait in the hope that Lily might make it back out, or should I press forward?

Time was short, monsters were on our trail, and I had to get LD back to Humana.

But how could I possibly leave my friend?

Toozle was crying again, which didn't help. “Lily was good girl,” he wailed. “Now gone. Gone, gone, gone …”

“Stop!” I said. “I have to think.”

Toozle sniffled but stopped his sobbing.

I paced back and forth, wracked with uncertainty. I had to get the baby out of here. But how could I leave Lily?

Then I heard her screaming!

Luna sighed heavily and said, “Wait here.” Before I could answer, the cat trotted into the forest too!

“Better wait,” said Toozle, plopping down beside the path. “Kitty is smart.”

Worries—about time, about Luna, and most of all about Lily—gnawed at my guts like a rat chewing its way through a wall.

“I'll count to a thousand,” I said to myself. “Then I have to move on, no matter what.”

The counting was excruciating, but it gave me something to focus on. Only by the time I reached a thousand, there was still no sign of either Lily or Luna.

So I did it again, very slowly. And again.

How much time had passed? It seemed like hours, but I knew that couldn't be true. So I did some quick math in my head. Counting slowly, one number per second, getting to one thousand takes just over sixteen minutes. I knew I had been counting slowly, but maybe not slowly enough. Call it twelve minutes for each time I went to a thousand. So, thirty-six minutes.

I counted again.

And again.

Now it had been an hour. Probably the longest hour of my life.

I was trying to convince myself that we had to move on—trying, but not succeeding, because it was too hard to think of leaving Lily—when I heard her cry, “Jacob!
Jacob!
”