“Merry, watch after Sadie. Stay here and make sure all the windows and doors are shut and barred tight. If anyone from town comes looking for Sam…” I couldn’t complete that horrible thought. “Ephraim, Thomas…keep them safe. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Ellerie, wait!” Merry cried after me, but I was already gone.
“Rule Number Seven: Enter not the forest deep. Beyond the Bells, the dark fiends keep.”
Without a trace of light or luck, I plunged into the pines.
He would find me; I was certain of it.
Through the trees, through the Bells. Their pealing chimes filled the air, marking my passage, as telling as a stain of ink across a page.
And suddenly he was there before me, in the middle of a small clearing at the edge of the Bells.
Whitaker.
Not Whitaker.
Not even the person I’d assumed was Whitaker.
Not even a person, truly.
Was he?
Despite everything I knew, I wanted to race to him.
He didn’t look like I’d thought they would. He had no claws or sharp teeth. His eyes were warm and kind and most decidedly not silver. Doubt curled through my limbs as they sought to betray me.
What if I was wrong?
As the pine trees gave way to tall grasses and wild brambles, I paused.
“Ellerie.”
His tone was too casual. Too practiced. He knew I knew. His voice betrayed everything.
He ran his tongue over the edge of his teeth, his eyes sharp and appraising. “You know.” I nodded. He pressed his lips together, his expression flat. “What gave it away?”
“The summoning circle at the Danforths’ farm.”
Every fiber inside me screamed for him to deny it. But he remained still.
“That wasn’t anything more than a campfire.”
I swayed back and forth. “It was enough to panic everyone in town.”
“Then it served its purpose, I suppose.”
“That was my marker, wasn’t it?”
His head dipped once.
“How did you get Sam’s handkerchief?”
He shrugged. “It wasn’t hard. Just a small favor from Trinity Brewster while she visited Sadie. She wanted a new set of jacks.” He brushed his thumb over the pads of his fingers, a small twitch, like the tail of a cat. “If it makes a difference to you, I had it long before we ever met.”
“It doesn’t.”
His lips twisted. “No. I suppose not.”
“How…how could you?” He said nothing. “The whole town is after Sam. They think he brought you here—summoned the devil to make all these terrible things happen.”
His eyes stayed steadily on mine, motionless.
“They’ll take him to the Gallows. Is that what you want?”
“I want…” His gaze faltered. “What I want is complicated.” He took an agitated step forward as if the distance between us pained him. “I did come to this valley wanting…” He looked away, guilt ingrained in his face. “But now…I’d never hurt you. Or your family.”
My family.
I pictured Sadie and Merry at the farm, keeping watch at the windows.
I pictured Sam hiding in a barn, or a shed, or a cave by the Greenswold, and prayed no one had found him yet.
I pictured…
My shoulders stiffened as a startling chill flooded me.
“Mama and Papa.”
Their names escaped in a soft, breathless hiss. Fear stabbed at my core, gutting me with ruthless efficiency as I pictured the last moment I’d seen them, tucked away in the back of the wagon together, Whitaker at the reins. He’d taken them into the forest and then…what?
“They’re dead, aren’t they? You didn’t really take them to the city. You never left the Falls.”
He reached out, stopping himself before he touched me. “You know I did.”
“I don’t.”
“I brought them there. I brought you that fabric.”
“Fabric you stole from Letitia Briard. Or had some other stupid fool steal for you. For a favor,” I spat.
He drew his eyebrows together, wounded. “What? No. Ellerie. No. How could you ever—”
“What else am I to think? You ferried them up the side of the mountain out of the goodness of your heart?”
“I did it because I lo—”
“Don’t say it!” I snapped, cutting him off. “Don’t ever say that again.”
“But it’s true.”
“It can’t be. You’re lying. To me or to yourself. It doesn’t matter. I’m through believing anything you say.”
I looked away, fighting the sudden urge to cry. This was too much. This was all too much.
He took the last step, closing the gap between us, and grabbed my elbows. He twisted his grip, trying to force me to meet his gaze.
“I didn’t kill your parents. Look at me! Am I lying now?”
I struggled against his grasp. “I don’t know.”
“You do,” he growled, tipping my chin up.
My treacherous fingers ached to curl around his shoulders, sink into their security, and pull him down to my lips. I dropped my hands to my sides before they could carry out their betrayal. I didn’t want to look at him. I didn’t want to look and see the face I knew so well, the face I’d grown to care for, worn like a mask over the blank vacancy of a stranger.
But his insistence was heavy, his hold firm. I resisted as long as I could but finally gave in. When he stared down at me, his face open and clear, it was Whitaker I saw. Not a monster, just a man.
“You’re not lying.”
He loosened his grip, running his fingers down my arms. They touched my wrists gently, pleading.
“Good. That’s good.”
“But it doesn’t change anything,” I added hastily, dashing any chance he might have had for hope. “You…you’re one of them.”
“I am.”
“You lied about that.”
“I didn’t lie. I just never said the truth. There’s a difference in that.”