The Perilous Journey (32 page)

They searched two more empty houses before entering an unusual stone and mortar building near the center of the village. The building, which appeared to be a kind of storage facility or barn (a much larger barn than the modest one on Milligan’s farm), consisted of a single large, windowless room with high rafters. What made it unusual was the surprising number of thick wooden beams that rose up from the floor to the rafters, creating the very strange impression of a forest enclosed by walls. The beams, set at equal distances throughout the room, were studded with large iron eyehooks that must once have been used for hanging things. On the dusty floor, the footprints of Mr. Benedict and Number Two roamed among the beams from wall to wall.

Kate shone her flashlight around. “I don’t get it. Those eyehooks are all set at the same height — two feet and four feet — but why hang anything so low? You’d have to stoop to take things off a hook.”

“Maybe the villagers were really short,” Sticky said.

Kate snorted. “A village of elf people?”

“The doors and windows are regular size,” Reynie said. He knelt to inspect a couple of the eyehooks, both of which bore knotted remnants of rope. “I don’t think elves lived here.”

“I never said anything about elves,” Sticky said irritably.

“Whatever,” said Kate, “it’s still a weird place.”

“It’s remarkably sturdy,” Milligan said, shining his flashlight up into the rafters, then onto the heavy wooden door with its iron bolts and hinges. “Sturdiest building in the village by far. The roof would hold up even if the walls fell.”

Reynie stood. “I think this was a storm shelter. That’s why there are no windows. That’s why it’s so solid. There are enough beams and eyehooks to string up dozens of hammocks. If a bad storm blew in — and obviously there’ve been some bad storms around here — everyone in the village could come sleep it out.”

“A community shelter. That makes sense,” said Sticky, trying to sound agreeable, though in truth he was frustrated he hadn’t figured this out himself.

Curious though it was, the shelter was empty, and the group moved on. The next building they searched was another house, which also lacked any sign of their friends except footprints in the dust. The house after that lacked even those, and Sticky took one look at the floor and said, “Let’s not waste time here. They didn’t come into this one.” He turned to go out.

Reynie caught his arm. “Actually, Sticky, I’m pretty sure this is the place.” He pointed to the clean wooden floor. “They did come in here. And they swept.”

Kate discovered the supplies in an upstairs closet, along with the makeshift broom that Mr. Benedict and Number Two had fashioned from a stick and a bundle of twigs. The house evidently had belonged to the most prosperous villager, or else to the most ardent and skillful carpenter, for it had two well-built floors, each with several rooms whose doors and shutters still hung squarely in their frames. Mr. Benedict and Number Two must have thought it the perfect place to serve as the group’s temporary home and headquarters.

The upstairs closet lay at the end of a short hallway, and Kate stood at its partly opened door, shining her flashlight over its shelves. She had only just found the supplies and called out to the others, who’d been searching a nearby bedroom and now came running.

A doorstop prevented the closet door from opening fully, so it was with considerable bumping and squeezing that Reynie and Constance crowded in beside Kate to take a look. Milligan simply stood behind them and looked over their heads, while Sticky hung back, too embarrassed to jockey for position. (He’d made himself look quite foolish with that footprint business, he thought, and though no one had teased him — not even Constance — he felt the embarrassment keenly.)

“They must have made several trips hauling all this stuff here,” Kate said as she looked at all the supplies. The closet was a shallow one, little more than a wall of shelves, but those shelves were admirably stocked with water, canned food, nuts, dried fruit, powdered milk, and — most important — graham crackers, chocolate bars, and marshmallows for roasting over a fire. (The sight made the children’s mouths water; they hadn’t eaten anything in hours.) In addition to these provisions were two battery-powered lanterns and enough sleeping bags and extra blankets for everyone.

It seemed possible that the next clue would be hidden among the supplies, so after they had all drunk their fill of water and eaten a few hurried mouthfuls of food, they switched on the lanterns and started going through what remained in the closet. It was an irritating task, for the closet door didn’t open wide enough even to let Kate hand things out to them without bumping her elbows. When she’d done this for the third time, she suggested they take the door off its hinges to make things easier.

“Forget the hinges,” said Reynie.

“He’s got it!” cried Constance, who’d been watching his face.

“Got what?” said Milligan. He hadn’t seen Reynie stir an inch except to glance around at the other doorways.

Reynie paused, blinking — he was still unused to Constance’s keen perception — then shook his head and knelt by the doorstop. “This is the most awkwardly placed doorstop in history, don’t you think? Not to mention the only one in the house. It reminds me of that table in the hotel room — and I think it was meant to. Here, Kate, help me pry it up.”

Kate opened her Swiss Army knife and pried the doorstop loose. It turned out to be a hollow piece of wood, and tucked inside it was a note that read:

If you seek to reach us soon,

Peek beneath the town’s twin moon.

“Another riddle,” Sticky said with a grimace. “I was hoping for a map.”

“Maybe the next one’s a map,” Kate said. She read the clue again. “Or maybe there’s a secret passageway beneath this twin moon thing.”

“Or a trail that starts at that spot,” Reynie suggested.

“Whatever,” said Constance, “let’s just hurry up and find it. What
is
this twin moon?”

They all looked to Sticky, who shrugged regretfully. “I’ve never heard of a such a thing.”

“Mr. Benedict’s a twin,” Reynie said. “Maybe he’s referring to himself as ‘the town’s twin.’ But then what would the moon be?”

No one knew.

“It may be more straightforward than that,” Milligan said. “Maybe one of the buildings used to be a tavern or an inn. The Twin Moon sounds like a name for that kind of place. We should look around for an old sign, or an engraving on a door, or some other kind of symbol.” He was already heading downstairs, but halfway down he stopped and cocked his head.

The children had moved to follow him, but Milligan shot them a warning glance and laid a finger to his lips. Had his expression not frozen them in their tracks, the scuffling sound they heard now would have. Footsteps. The sound grew louder, then stopped. There was someone at the front door. Milligan took out his tranquilizer gun.

Suddenly Constance gasped. “Milligan, don’t! It’s —”

Even as she cried out the door flew open, a figure burst into the front room, and only Constance’s warning and Milligan’s quick reflexes spared the intruder a dart in the shoulder.

“— Number Two!” Constance finished.

Kate shone her flashlight down the stairs, and sure enough, there was Number Two, looking up at them from where she’d fallen onto her hands and knees. She squinted into the flashlight beam with wild, disoriented eyes.

“Constance?” she said, for it was Constance who had called out her name. “Have I — have I come
home
then? And here I…” Number Two chuckled weakly. “Here I thought… Oh, Constance, thank goodness! I was dreaming I was still on that terrible island!”

Number Two was delirious from hunger and exhaustion. Mr. Curtain hadn’t realized how much food she required, and she had deliberately not told him she needed more, for in order to convince him she would have had to explain
why.
And there was no way Number Two would reveal that she needed an enormous amount of fuel to compensate for how little she slept, because it was her near-constant wakefulness that allowed her to work away at the fastening pin in her handcuffs, hour after hour and night after night, while everyone else slept.

“Mr. Benedict kept trying to give me some of
his
food,” Number Two said as Reynie spooned cold soup into her mouth. She coughed, and most of it dribbled down her chin. “I wouldn’t take it. He had little enough. I’m afraid he was angry with me for refusing him. I hope he isn’t still angry. Is he?” She looked at Reynie with worried eyes.

“Of course not,” Reynie soothed. “He never was.”

Milligan had carried Number Two to a first-floor bedroom, easing her onto a rope bed that Kate had covered with a blanket. Her skin had lost its pale yellow hue (it looked positively waxen in the lantern light); her clothes were wrinkled and soiled; and her short-cropped red hair looked frazzled, like an old shag carpet. Even after she had eaten a bit, the poor woman was quite out of her head. The only thing Milligan felt certain about was that she had escaped while her captors were sleeping. When asked where she’d been held prisoner, Number Two had waved her hand as if shooing a fly and said, “Oh, you know, in that cave on the island.” They asked her several times, and in several different ways, but she would be no more specific than that, and after a few minutes she slipped into a fitful doze.

“Keep an eye on her,” Milligan said solemnly. “I’ll be right back.” He patted Number Two on the knee and went out.

Constance watched him go. “He sure seems grim. But isn’t it good news that she’s escaped? And didn’t he say she was going to be all right? And now we know that Mr. Benedict really is okay, so…” She turned to the others, who averted their eyes. “Hey,
you
all look grim, too. What’s going on?”

After a pause, Reynie said, “Whoever was guarding Number Two will wake up and find her gone. If it hasn’t already happened, it certainly will by morning.”

“Which means they’ll come looking for her,” Kate said.

“And find
us,
” said Sticky, who had begun to polish his spectacles.

“I see,” Constance said, rather wishing she didn’t. She made a dry, gulping sound. “Do you… do you think they’ll know to look here first?”

“Maybe not,” said Reynie. “The only footprints we’ve seen belong to Mr. Benedict and Number Two, so the Ten Men and Mr. Curtain must have caught up with them somewhere else. My guess is Number Two came back to the village because she knew there was food here — but Mr. Curtain probably doesn’t know that. If he knew they’d been here, I think we’d see signs of a search.”

Constance felt somewhat reassured. “So the Ten Men won’t necessarily know where to look.”

“They’re excellent trackers, though,” Kate said helpfully.

Constance gave a small moan and put her face into her hands.

Reynie felt like doing the same thing. The irony of their situation was pretty bitter, after all. Number Two’s escape might well have ruined her chances of being rescued — and it had put the rest of them in jeopardy, too. Whatever Milligan’s plan had been, he would have to alter it now to protect the children. Or
try
to protect them, at any rate. Reynie shivered and glanced at Sticky, who was just tucking away his polish-ing cloth.

“Sometimes I wish I wore spectacles,” he said.

“You can always use mine if you like,” said Sticky, and they exchanged feeble smiles.

Milligan soon returned with a report that he’d made a quick pass through the village to look for the “twin moon” but had met with no luck. “So here is what we’re going to do,” he said, and his tone and expression made it clear there would be no arguments this time. “I am going to search for that cave. You are going to stay here. One of you must attend Number Two at all times. If she gets her wits about her again, find out where the cave is — or where the twin moon is, for that matter. Just learn whatever you can. If I don’t locate the cave myself in a few hours, I’ll be back to check on you.”

“What if you do find it?” Kate asked.

“Then I probably won’t return before morning. If that happens, I want you to head back to the forest by the bay. Make sure you’re hidden in the trees before it gets light out. If Number Two is strong enough, bring her along; otherwise leave her here and I’ll see to her. I know you don’t like that idea,” Milligan said, seeing their disturbed expressions, “but it’s what you must do. Number Two prizes your safety every bit as much as I do. And at any rate, it’s an order.”

Still more orders followed: they could use the lanterns, but they were to keep the shutters and doors closed so the light wouldn’t be visible from outside. They must also keep a lookout — he would show them the best place — and send up a signal flare if there was any sign of danger. And if that should happen, they must all run to the storm shelter — taking time for nothing else — and bar the door until Milligan returned for them.

“The shelter can’t keep Ten Men out for long, but it should hold them off until I get back,” Milligan said. “Don’t worry, if you’re keeping a good lookout, I’ll see your signal flare in plenty of time.”

“Won’t the flare draw
their
attention, too?” Sticky asked.

“If you see Ten Men,” Milligan said, “it will mean they’re coming to check the village regardless. This way I’ll know you’re in trouble.”

The children had been frightened for some time now, but with every word Milligan spoke — even the ones he meant to be comforting — their apprehension increased. When he unexpectedly turned off the lantern, their hearts quickened, and they reached for one another in the darkness. The window shutters opened, revealing Milligan’s silhouette in the moonlit frame.

“I want to show you the lookout spot,” Milligan said, beckoning them over to the window. He pointed down the path to the west. The last building in the village was also the tallest, a sort of wooden tower with a ladder attached to its outside wall. “Two of you will take a post on top of that old grain silo. The structure is sound and the roof’s in good shape. If you’re careful, you’ll be perfectly safe.”