The Cottage in the Woods (41 page)

At last, the final witness had been exhaustively examined and cross-examined, and dragged himself, slope-shouldered and beaten, from the witness-box, and the judge retired to his chamber to consider his verdict. Minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness. A very few minutes. And then the judge resumed his exalted position and demanded silence.

Judge Slugby cleared his throat. “We have before us a case wherein no positive proof can be produced concerning the parentage of the child called by the plaintiff Mary and by the defendant Goldilocks. It is therefore the task of this court to determine what is in the best interest of the child. The plaintiff, Mrs. Shoe, argues that the child was kidnapped, and accuses the defendant, Mr. Vaughn, of locking the child up, a charge that he plainly admits to be true. The plaintiff presents a convincing case for her ability to care for the child, principally that she can provide a loving home for her among her own kind. We find the plaintiff clearly better qualified to raise the child and so rule that Mary be turned over to Mrs. Shoe immediately.”

The entire assembly sprang to their feet as one, with a deafening roar—a roar of protest from some, a roar of triumph from others. “No!” I cried into the pandemonium, as in front of me Mrs. Vaughn collapsed into her husband’s arms, and our whole team of lawyers gathered round to shield them from the frenzied crowd. I realized that I was myself gasping for breath, and felt an incipient dizziness at the edges of my consciousness. Pushing my way between bodies, I thought only that I must get to the door. I must get out!

I was being pressed further and further toward the opposition’s
table when, looking frantically about me for an opening, I saw Mother Shoe bang her large, lace-gloved fist on the tabletop and shout, “I want it
now
!” Mr. Cheater hastily put his finger to his lips in a gesture to silence her and, looking mortified, turned behind him to whisper in Mr. Babcock’s ear.

“Now!” Mother Shoe roared again, and I watched as Mr. Babcock surreptitiously slipped her a fat purse. Stunned, I tried to make sense of it. Why would Mr. Babcock pay her off when she’d gotten what she wanted? I didn’t understand just what had taken place, but the corruption was so thick I could almost smell it, and my desperation to get away was compounded by disgust and rage. Shedding all ladylike restraint, I shoved and shouted people out of my way, and, after a great deal of this, cleared myself a path to the door.

Outside, the crowd was electric with strife. I expected at any moment to see violence breaking out, but the only way to escape the crush was to go through it. I shoved and shouted some more, buffeted on every side by noise and chaos. I pushed ahead, bit by bit, until I had worked free of the worst of the crowd, and then I began to run. I must get home! Though I thought I should not be the one to break the news to the children, I wanted to set my earlier premonitions to rest, and to be with them and comfort them for as long as I could. On I ran, past Reverend Snover’s little church, and across the churchyard, taking the shortcut through the woods, gasping for air, and cursing my tight stays and the sadistic dictates of feminine fashion. Reaching the back kitchen door at last, I pounded on it until a startled Cook let me in. She stood, staring at me, along with Betsy and a handful of other female servants, who regarded me as if I carried the fate of the world in my paws.

“We lost,” I gasped. “They’ll be coming to get her.” Then I hurried past them and rushed up the back stairs and through the back hallways to the nursery. I forced myself to pause outside the nursery door to collect myself, feeling I must not break in on them breathless and panic-stricken. Precious minutes went by as I waited for my breathing to calm, then I opened the door and entered the nursery, quiet and empty as an abandoned ruin. Where were the children? Where was Nurse? I called their names, one at a time.

No answer.

No answer.

No answer.

I heard only the slight echo of my own voice reverberating from the high ceiling. I was seized with a sickening dread. Where could they be? Perhaps in the schoolroom? I dashed to the room, just next door, and immediately saw that it was empty. But something was different. The blackboard! A message was written on it, all across the bottom, in a nearly indecipherable hand.

Cold panic gripped my insides. The children had run away? Where could they be? How far could they have gotten? How desperate they must be! How utterly mistrustful of the whole adult world. I took a moment to bless the days I had allowed the illiterate Nurse into the schoolroom. Apparently, she had been doing more listening and learning than I would have guessed. My mind began to work feverishly. Gabriel was out there somewhere. What would he do if he found Goldilocks and Teddy
alone and unprotected in the woods? I tried to convince myself that it was a huge property and the chances of his finding them were slim, but my every instinct told me to hurry, that time was of the essence. I could track them by smell, but only with a slow process of continually stopping to find their scent. If only I knew which way they’d gone!

I had an idea then, and ran to my own chamber, grabbing the magic mirror and shook him. “Mirror! Mirror! Wake up!”

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” came the startled reply. The carnival mask popped into focus. “What is it? Is the house on fire? Get me out of here!”

“It’s the children. They’ve run away! Please, quickly, tell me where they’ve gone.”

“For Heaven’s sake, is that all? Don’t even ask me. It’s spying! You know I can’t spy on anyone! It would violate my spell!”

“Then violate it! This is an emergency. Please, Mirror, you must tell me if they’re in danger.”

“Hmph. They’re probably just hiding somewhere in the house. It’s a very big house, you know. Either that or they’re out in the forest, going down the path to the waterfall.”

“How can you say that so casually? Which is it? Every minute counts!”

“I would only be telling you my opinion.”

“What is your opinion based on?”

“Well, nothing. But everyone’s entitled to their opinion, don’t you agree?”

“Blast your opinion! Tell me the truth, for God’s sake! There’s no time to lose!”

The carnival face looked mortally offended, but he said, “Oh, very well. Here,” and showed me an image of Teddy and
Goldilocks hurrying down a wooded lane, hand in paw in the fading light, while pools of spring flooding encroached on the track on either side of them. Just beyond them lay a large white boulder that I recognized from the path to the waterfall, and in the distant background a voice—Nurse’s voice—could be heard calling, “Teddeeeeee! Teddeeeeee!” in a frenzied tone, and a jolt of fear shot through me. Her cries would draw Gabriel to them like a magnet.

“Is there a big brute of a boy chasing them?” I demanded.

“Are you asking for my opinion?” the mirror replied haughtily.

Goaded beyond endurance, I banged the mirror facedown on the bureau and rushed from the room, nearly colliding with Betsy, carrying a tray.

“Oh, miss! What is it, miss?”

“Betsy!” I gasped. “It’s the children! They’ve run away!”

Her pleasant face metamorphosed into a portrait of guilt and anguish. “Oh, miss! I don’t know what could have happened! I thought they was all sleeping when I looked in on ’em last, so I didn’t want to disturb ’em no more. It’s my fault! It’s my own fault!”

“Never mind that, Betsy. They’re headed for the waterfall. They’re in danger, and I’m going after them. You must tell everyone where we’ve gone, and send help quickly! All the male staff, and anyone else—”

“I will, miss, as fast as I can.”

“Tell them to come armed,” I said, considering briefly whether to go and get a gun myself, but, unloaded, it would be of little use to me. I chose to listen to my inner voice, which urged me not to delay.

“Quickly, Betsy! I have to go!” I cried.

With that I made my way down the stairs, then ran headlong through the hallway to a little-used side door that was closest to the path to the waterfall. Finding it unlocked and the key lying on the floor, I surmised that the children and perhaps Nurse had come this way. Making straight for the path, I knew that I must pace myself, but the fear that propelled me would not allow anything less than my utmost speed. Soon my breath began to come in ragged gulps, but still I was able to sustain myself and keep on running, my legs pumping harder and harder, automatically now, eating up the ground in front of me as each jolt sent pain into my corseted ribs. I passed the white boulder that I recognized from the first time I had come up this lane. After that one near-disastrous trip, we had never come this way again, and my thoughts of that day were overshadowed by the traumatic memory of Teddy stranded on the cliffside.

What could have possessed him to go there now? My mind refused to consider the question, but my forebodings became more acute with each passing minute. By now my feet were numb, and my lungs were on fire, burning for one deep, cool breath of air. I could no longer deny the dizziness that threatened to overcome me, or the darkness gathering at the edges of my vision. I collapsed against a tree trunk, gasping like a great fish out of water, not knowing whether I would recover or succumb.

One cramped breath at a time, the air flowed back into my lungs and revived me, and as my breath came more easily, I could hear something up ahead. Was I gaining on them? Surely that was Nurse’s voice! I could hear it clearly now. “Teddeeeeee! Teddeeeeee!” fading into the distance. With a fresh burst of
energy, I forced myself to my feet and lumbered, heavy-legged, down the lane, following the sound. Only a little further, I was sure. And then the cries stopped. What did that mean? Though I was overheated, I shivered with cold. The path finally came to an end at the edge of a large clearing, and I stopped, holding my side and panting. There, at one end of the clearing, was the massive cliff wall that I remembered, the waterfall, swollen with spring runoff, thundering down its rocky face with inexorable force, and filling the air with a fine spray in every direction. The lagoon shimmered with the colors of the setting sun. And there, at the foot of the cliff, stood Teddy and Goldilocks, looking like cornered rabbits. Halfway between the children and me stood Nurse.

“Don’t do it, Master Teddy!” she was pleading.

“Don’t come any closer!” Teddy warned her. “We’re going up, and we won’t come down until you all promise she doesn’t have to go!”

My heart sank. Would we all survive this day? To think that we had driven these little ones to such a desperate act!

“Teddy! Goldilocks!” I shouted. “Don’t do it! Please! You could be hurt, or worse! Come away!”

In answer, Teddy turned and gave Goldilocks a boost up to a low ledge, then pulled himself up. This was the cub I had encouraged to think for himself, to worry less about being perfectly good and obedient. How bitter now was my regret! And yet I had to admire his principles and courage.

“No, Teddy!” Nurse cried, running toward them on her short badger legs.

Goldilocks scrambled up the rough rock as if her life depended on it, and Teddy made his way deliberately after her.
Nurse could not reach the ledge where the children had begun their climb, and so searched the base of the cliff for a way up. I had just reached the rock wall myself, intending to follow the children up, when a voice some distance behind me made my fur stand on end.

“Well, ain’t this just prime!”

I had heard this voice, these very words, before. I turned, and looked upon the loathsome physiognomy of Gabriel standing at the edge of the woods, with much the same expression as the great predator I had seen in his mother. His glee at finding such fertile hunting grounds was almost palpable.

“What? Nothin’ to say?” he gloated, keeping me pinned in his gaze while he slowly knelt and picked up several large rocks.

A bolt of fear shot down my spine as his intention became clear. I looked all about for shelter, but found none. My back was to the wall. To my right raged the waterfall. To my left a dozen or more yards of exposed rock face extended to the forest. I calculated in an instant that I would stand a better chance dodging his rocks than brawling with him and his truncheon. Though I matched him in size, I feared I was no match for the kind of enraged frenzy I had witnessed in him once before. I could not hope to compete with him in fighting skill, or plain viciousness, and, being Enchanted, I believed I had no more killer instinct than any gently reared young lady. If I ran away, at least he would have to try to hit a moving target, but then nothing would remain between the dangerous brute and the children. No, I did the only thing I could: I knelt and picked up my own rocks. He would not find me an easy opponent. In my tomboy days I had insisted that Papa teach me to throw like the neighborhood boys. This service he had performed admirably,
telling me that my skills reflected on his own ability. I would not embarrass him now.

As I scrambled for my own arsenal of rocks, his first missile struck me, grazing my ear with a flash of hot pain, and making me angry. Grabbing a hefty stone, I stood, pulling my arm back, and hurled it with terrific force; it struck him on the forehead and immediately drew blood. His expression was almost comically surprised, but quickly turned to rage. He cast several more stones in rapid succession while advancing steadily toward me, all of them striking me painfully on my head and body, and I retaliated with a large rock, hitting him hard in the stomach. He bent double, and then on he came, implacably shortening the distance between us, no doubt having determined, as I had, that he could beat me in physical combat. Having already resolved that I must not run, I stood my ground and took advantage of the shorter distance between us by throwing much heavier stones, which were plentiful, and aiming at his legs. He dodged them with demonic agility, coming closer and closer to me, and then he stopped, two yards away, in a crouching position, taunting me.

“Wouldn’t you just love to wipe this smile off my face?” he said, matching his actions to his words with a smile so evil and exulting that I did take a swipe at him, claws extended, and raked the side of his face as he jumped back. His hand went to his face and came away covered with blood.