As soon as they broke apart his uncle asked, “We heard the news about Barrowden. What happened? Are Doreen and the kids safe? Did they get out in time?”
“Let’s talk after we get a little farther away,” said Will, looking back at the camp. The anxiety in his uncle’s voice made it hard for him to reply calmly.
Will’s deflection undid the older man and Johnathan’s face crumpled. “They’re dead, aren’t they?”
“Sammy is safe,” said Will, his eyes downcast. “Aunt Doreen got her out in time. She shot one of the men after Sammy with your crossbow before—” He couldn’t finish the sentence. “She saved Sammy,” he said at last.
His uncle’s breath was coming in great, heaving gasps, and his next question was almost unintelligible. “And little Doug?”
Will could barely see his own feet, his eyes were so blurry. “He was really brave. He tried to protect them.”
“He was only ten,” whispered his uncle. “What kind of monsters would kill a child?” Will’s uncle sank to his knees.
A quarter of an hour passed before Johnathan Cartwright was able to stand, and when he did he started back toward the camp.
“Where are you going?” asked Will.
“I’m going to kill those bastards,” said Johnathan. “I can’t do it alone. The army is the best way I can think of.”
“Sammy needs you,” said Will. “Mom needs you. I left them alone back there.”
“They didn’t come here with you?”
Will shook his head. “They’re living at the old hermit’s cottage.”
“That’s not safe!” said his uncle, his voice rising. “The Darrowans will sweep the whole valley.”
“I need to tell you some things, Uncle Johnathan,” said Will, glancing around to see if anyone was nearby. “But not here. Come with me. Please?”
His uncle hesitated briefly, then nodded his head and followed Will away from the camp and down the road that led toward the mountain pass. They were almost to the spot that was closest to the spring when his uncle stopped. “How far do we need to go?”
Will met his eyes evenly. “I can take you to them.”
“How? It’s too late to cross the pass. There will be soldiers guarding it.”
“Magic,” answered Will. “Can you trust me?”
His uncle’s face wavered between fear and anger. “I knew it. That old man really was a warlock, wasn’t he? I don’t want anything to do with demons or black magic.”
“He wasn’t a warlock,” insisted Will. “He was a wizard, and he did teach me a little. I know enough magic to get you back. It’s a shorter walk than the one from your house to my mom’s if you’ll let me show you.”
“What did you sell for your power?” asked his uncle.
After everything he had been through, Will was beginning to lose patience. He wondered if that was why Arrogan had always been so grumpy. Every day that passed, he felt like he understood the old man better. “I didn’t sell anything. One of the fae helped me.”
“The fae?”
“Do you want to see Sammy and Mom or not?” asked Will, exasperated. “I’m not a warlock. I haven’t sold my soul, and even if I did do something stupid like that it wouldn’t have anything to do with you.” Angry, he stalked away from the road, heading toward the spring. After a moment he heard his uncle start to follow.
When they reached the spring, Will stopped. “There’s a door here. I’m going to take your hand and—”
“I don’t see a door,” protested his uncle.
“That’s why I have to take your hand,” said Will. “I’ll take you with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“We’ll be in a field. From there I’ll lead you across the field to a cave. Inside the cave is another door that you won’t be able to see. When we cross again, we’ll be back in our world, near the old man’s house,” Will explained.
“You’ve lost your mind,” said Johnathan.
Tired of explaining himself, Will grabbed his uncle’s hand and wrenched them both sideways into Faerie. He was rewarded by the sight of his uncle’s jaw going slack as the older man stared around him at the sun-drenched field.
“How did…” began his uncle.
“Come on,” urged Will, starting forward. “It’s not entirely safe here. The sooner we cross back the better.” When they entered the cave, he once again felt as though something was watching him. “It’s me,” he announced. “This is my uncle. I’m taking him to stay with Mom and Sammy.”
His uncle was uneasy, but he couldn’t help but ask, “Who are you talking to?” He froze when he heard the deep rumbling coming from all around them.
“Just stay calm,” said Will. “He just wants to make sure we are who we say we are—I think.”
Again, Will heard the sound of something large sniffing the air, and then the presence vanished. Wasting no time, he pulled his uncle forward and twisted them back, and they appeared next to the tree behind Arrogan’s garden. He felt some of the tension release from his shoulders.
“Past all those brambles and bushes is the old hermit’s house. Mom and Sammy are there,” said Will, pointing out the way for his uncle.
“Aren’t you coming with me?”
Will shook his head. “Mom will throw a fit if she sees me. I kind of left without telling her. Tell her I’m sorry.”
His uncle started to grab his wrist, but Will twisted through the congruence, taking himself away. He had no intention of getting caught up in that conversation. He’ll tell Mom I’m safe. That’s enough, he told himself.
Chapter 37
Not having a place to sleep, Will wound up reporting that evening instead of the next morning, and after briefly being sworn into the king’s service, he found himself in a large tent that was one of many. At a guess there were nearly twenty men inside, and while they were all strangers what really bothered him was the fact that there wasn’t a bed in sight.
The sergeant that had led him in handed him a bedroll. “There’s some space over there. You’ll be assigned to a squad tomorrow, but for tonight you’ll stay here.”
“Will I get a regular bed then?” asked Will.
The sergeant let loose an evil laugh. “Soldier, ain’t none of us got beds around here. Why would you be any different?” When he saw the look on Will’s face he continued, “There’s nearly eight hundred men in this camp. If this was a garrison there’d be beds, but not here. Get used to it. Whenever we eventually have to move, it’ll be worse.”
The bedroll turned out to be a piece of oilskin with a heavy wool liner sewn to one side and a separate blanket rolled up within. It also had extra strips of leather along the edges that seemed to serve no purpose. There was no pillow.
Glancing around, he saw that some of the others had a bag of some sort that they used to rest their heads on, so he asked the man next to him about it.
“That’s a kit bag. They’ll give you one tomorrow. You keep your necessaries in it, but it makes a shitty pillow too.” The soldier laughed after he said it, though Will didn’t see the humor.