Pip and the Twilight Seekers (9 page)

Sam knew the children were no longer safe at the inn. And he knew that he himself was also in danger now. Perhaps the authorities would question him. Sure, they had found nothing in the tavern. But he knew and they knew that a cloud hovered over the Deadman’s Hand.

“To all your children,” said Floyd, and he raised his tankard aloft. “That they may one day live in peace.”

“To all our children,” came the reply, and all the glasses and tankards were raised in the silence of the Deadman’s Hand. A chink of glass and pewter resounded softly amid the crackling of the fire and outside the wind hurled the snow around the eerie streets of the empty hollow.

The door opened slowly. Snake eyes pierced the darkness of the room. Jarvis lit a candle in the fire and returned the holder to its place on the long wooden table. His nose lifted and he drew in a cloud of air. Strange, he could still smell those damn children. That whiff of youth had always stuck in his nose. But then he noticed something that wasn’t right. He returned to the candlestick, picked it up, and held it over the mantel. Where was Captain Dooley? His heart thumped back at him in response when he realized the old wooden soldier was missing. He looked down into the hearth. Perhaps he had fallen from his perch. “No, damn it, where is he?” he swore. He searched around his feet and then angrily threw the candlestick into the fire.

The three children were huddled into the corner. If they held tight he would believe they’d fled and he’d go out into the night to search for them. Wouldn’t he?

But they had not noticed that their concealment had been witnessed. Esther stepped out from the darkness of a shelf on the wall where books and papers were stacked.

“They’re here,” she said.

“It’s the boy from the inn, isn’t it? Him and his little cronies. I know it is. I can smell them.”

“The very same,” she answered. “Delivered to your door, sire.”

“Ahh, bless you, Esther. You still have your uses, eh!” Jarvis grinned and patted her head gently.

She had been there all along. Watching and waiting. In the low light she had gone unnoticed. Why had they been so careless? Pip was angry with himself. Surely by now he had learned to wander around the hollow with his eyes wide open.

Pip and Frankie were curled up with Toad almost sitting right on top of them. Pip had Captain Dooley cupped in both hands, holding on to him tight.

Jarvis threw off his cloak and began to search, cursing them as he went. “Come here, little piggies. Didn’t Mummy tell you it isn’t nice to steal other people’s toys?” It was dark but there was little space and not much to search amongst. He would have them by their throats within minutes.

“Come along, my pesky little city rats,” he pleaded. “Come to Uncle Jarvis.” He was full of excitement. Those kids had haunted his dreams for the past three months. He could not have hoped that they would walk right into his hands. It really was turning out to be the perfect evening.

“Tell me, oh dear Captain, where are the three little birds?”

Pip was too late. He heard the voice coming but he was so shocked that he was unable to do anything.

“Three little birds, nesting in the cupboard.”

Jarvis moved to the corner of the room. He placed his hook on the large doorknob and flicked it open. A nasty smile announced his delight. Their pathetic, sorrowful little eyes stared up at him. Their wizened little figures curled up in a nest like newborn rats. Shrinking further back into the corner, they shook in fright as Jarvis speared his hook into the wooden panel that formed the back of the cupboard, missing their heads by a fraction.

A bang came at the door. It was so loud that it stopped Jarvis in his tracks. He pushed the cupboard door so that it was almost shut and then he went to uncover the source of the nuisance. Horses could be heard outside and the banging quickly became louder and more persistent. Voices followed. Loud shouts. Before Jarvis had reached it, the door came inward, flying off its hinges and spinning into the space that made the parlor before ending up flat on the floor.

It was none other than Hector Stubbs.

“Jarvis. I have a warrant for your arrest.”

It was a shame that the children were huddled together with their eyes shut. It would have been a treat for them to have seen Jarvis so frightened. He was pinned into a corner with Stubbs staring into his eyes, pressing him firmly and not caring too much for weak excuses.

In the mayhem their presence had gone unnoticed and Toad had slowly pulled the cupboard door shut to
conceal their company. Captain Dooley’s mouth was held tight.

“Mister Jarvis, do you realize that dealing with the woodsfolk is an act of treason?”

“I haven’t dealt with the woodsfolk, sir, I promise. I go to the woods to look for children.”

“When I prove that you’re lying, Jarvis, I’ll make sure you swing at the gallows. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m going to ask you again, have you delivered children to the forest and taken money from the woodsfolk?”

“No, sir.”

“Mister Jarvis. You’re lying. I can see right through you. You’re hollow on the inside, do you know that? Empty-headed. You don’t think straight and I’m going to prove it.”

Jarvis tried to remain calm but he was shifting awkwardly on his seat and he was finding it impossible to keep his hands still. He fidgeted with the hem of his cloak.

“Earlier you discovered a young girl in the street. When the parents resisted, holding on to their young one, you were helped by guards, who fended away the adults.”

“Er … yes.”

“And the girl?”

“She escaped through the streets, no thanks to your guardsmen.”

“So you came away empty-handed?”

“Of course.”

“A fruitless night, you might say!”

“If you wish.”

“Don’t try make a fool out of me, Jarvis. Where are those children that you already held in your carriage? You certainly didn’t bring them to me. I suspect you thought they’d gone unnoticed.”

“I was attacked,” Jarvis claimed. “By the forest folk. They took the children from me in the early hours. I was on my way to you.”

“Strange! You never mentioned it!”

“I didn’t think I needed to. It happens a lot. I capture children and I get hijacked. It’s a dangerous occupation.”

“Oh, really? The last we spoke you said you hadn’t seen anything for months!”

Jarvis looked down, thinking hard. Damn it, he was being outsmarted. He was far more used to being the one asking the questions. It wasn’t easy the other way around.

“Now tell me, which is the correct story, Mister Jarvis? Because I have a version of my own and I think it’s better than yours. I think you have more to do with those forest freaks than you’ll admit. And I think that somewhere along the line you get more from delivering to the forest keep than you do to the city! Tell me I’m wrong!”

“Of course you’re wrong.”

“Let me remind you of something, Jarvis. You’re here to protect the children of this city. I know people don’t see you that way but you’re there to keep them from harm. I want this city to have a future. Without its children I won’t have an army to fight the forest, the city will die out altogether and those tree dwellers will take over when you and I grow old.”

Jarvis didn’t have an answer. He didn’t see it that way, and if the truth be known he wanted rid of all those children.

Unable to defend his position he was cuffed in irons and taken outside, where transport waited to take him back to the city prison. In a panic, Esther followed behind.

Silas was perched at the undergate. He kept a watchful eye over the forest keep entrance.

The prisoners were beginning to attract far too much attention. And they were becoming numerous. Edgar McCreedy had been joined by the Carraway twins and Mr. Brice’s son. When word had begun to spread that Captain Dooley was assisting Jarvis, a handful had fled into the streets to escape detection, and been caught as they moved through the city.

Perhaps there were seven or eight now. Maybe more.

It was some time since the forest keep had been home to children. It was a most unpleasant place. The bowels of the forest, deep beneath the trees: a huge underground cavern dug out by the creatures born of the woods. The walls still bore their sinister claw marks and were reminders of just what the children would have to deal with if they attempted escape. Large roots spiraled around the space like wall decorations and fibrous threads of plant life came down from above.

An argument was boiling between the elders of the forest and was overheard by the frightened children. “Leave them,” said Hogwick. “They’re too valuable alive.” But it was taking a lot to convince some of the bark demons of the forest. Long winters meant that food was not easily available and they were beginning to look at the prisoners with a different eye.

“Perhaps they will be of better use if the winter continues to leave us unfed,” came the wheezing voice of some ungodly creature who stared longingly at the little ones.