Spring bloomed against the remnants of the hideous winter storm. Through all this adversities that passed, which seemed to be swiftly picking out lives of various people, the empire stood firmly brave and invincible. Spring has never been like this before: Trees having greener leaves than they ever had; grasses on valleys sprang into a fresh new life; rivers rushed, gently splashing against the cobbled stone boundaries of the high bridges.
But all over the palace, things were oddly different. However, they have never shown their inner weakness to the community: Servants and staffs gradually dying of unconventional disease, some were leaving for fear that they might catch the illness and lead into the same way. Even the king Elvandork had these for himself in public.
Most of the expert cooks of the king were at loss to explain how all the vegetable-bearing plants in the garden had turned to melt goblets, plates and spoons when stirred on fire. So hardly a week after that incident, one brave chef strolled down into the king’s dungeon and told what had just happened.
“Do not question me, servant,” the king said coldly. “Question the gardeners.”
But the gardeners said there was nothing to blame. All of a sudden the vegetable plantations of the palace were going crazy as unlike what were happening in the outside world. There were only seven hardworking gardeners who had served the king for almost a decade or so, and it was unheard that they were finally setting out of service the day after that. The king called them out for being so uselessly unable to explain the core of disorder around the castle.
As replacement, the king Elvandork had posted the need of another set of gardeners around the village. Some of the commercial posters read:
ESSENTIALLY WANTED:
SEVEN EXPERT GARDENERS
Inquire inside the Castle, at the office of the Executive Secretary
Only three men, who appeared to have been interested in the post, had consulted the executive secretary. They were evidently forced basing on how fearful they talked, often agitating as though the secretary would eat them. One was an old man standing on a cane: He almost looked incapacitated on the job, but he spoke very intellectually about cropping. The other guy sitting beside him was so thin, looking as though he was just a skeleton wrapped with brittle skin: His face was nearly hollow except for his balding white hairs and bulging red eyes that brilliantly shone through the light.
The last man, who was doubted to be a man, really, was chubby and squat. He was at the same height with the bronze table, apparently having so much difficulty looking up at the others, who were intensely neutral talking that they almost forgot he was there.
Zeekon, the executive secretary, was wearing a long black cloak and a feathered leather hat. After the interview, he ordered them to pack and arrive at the castle shortly after dawn the next day. And so the three applicants hesitated and scuttled out of the palace.
_________
Inside the servants’ chamber, three floors under the ground raised the hilarity of morning noise. It was dark there; the six o’clock a.m. sun was concealed behind the upper floors so that the only source of light inside was a set of sumptuous secondhand lamps nailed on the walls.
On the center was a big barrier; on either side were two semicircle wooden doors leading into separate rooms. There was a rectangular, improvised wood, at the top of the left door inscribed with wiggling words: WOMEN; on the right: MEN.
There was a lady descending the stairs from the upper floor who bolted straight into the women’s room. There, however, were messily scrambled items and possessions, broken mirror hanging on a cracked wall apparently covering a hole; huge, flat and grey stones were spread on the floor so that the ground earth was visible through every gaps. Damply chill was roaming around, leaving a slight mist on the broken mirror.
On the left corner was a line of double-decked beds, each of the linens and pillows tightly arranged and were now deserted except for one. A dark woman calmly wrapped with a thin cloak was snoring heavily; her thick brown bushy hairs sprang like a broom around her face. She seemed to be sleeping soundly as though she was tired roaming around last night.
The other woman who had entered the room had a shallow elongated face. She had short white hairs, apparently shoulder-level, and her eyes were so deep that it almost looked vacant. When she stepped into the room, she paused in front of the mirror for a moment, seized how she looked as she pulled back her hairs, and then strolled straight into the only woman awake.
“Vick! Vick!” she shouted hardly. “Oh, what do you think you are doing, Vicky? It’s almost noon! Wake up! Vick! Vick!”
But the sleeping woman did not show any sign that she heard her. She snored even loudly so that the other woman’s voice was drowned.
“Oh, don’t get the king so mad. Attitude like that isn’t allowed in the castle,” she said, shaking the woman named Vick. Vick flicked her eyes open and scanned the room for a few seconds, and met the other woman’s deep eyes. “Oh, thank goodness you’re awake now. . . . Come on, settle up and get some loads of tasks done – your duty, remember? Stand! Get dressed and go to work!”
After saying this, the woman looked back and quickly walked away, her footsteps clip-clopping against the stones on the floor. And then finally, she banged the door close, and her footsteps vanished at once.
Vick scanned the back of the upper deck before she rose and sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing her eyes so they would open. She wondered what the time now was, but it was impossible to tell when you’re inside an underground room. She hesitated, and then stood as she combed her bushy hairs and fixed her clothes.
“Vicky, hurry up!” she heard the other woman shout from the stairs.
Vicky immediately gargled a mouthful of water before she scrambled onto her feet outside the room. The light was denser there, and only a partial was revealing the stairs at the far end of the corner, where she hurriedly climbed as fast as she could, panting with adversity as she ascended the landing.
The morning sun was, in fact, penetrating the widely opened windows of the hallway so that tiny particles were swarming through the sunrays. As Vick walked, several of the other servants slipped back and forth, some holding trays of bottles and goblets, others carrying bouquets of misty green flowers that were shimmering with glitters around; two men, however, were facing the wall, wiping the furniture and the posters that were hanging perfectly balanced.
“The king is angry!” said the darker man, wiping a portrait of a black horse and a knight. “The Leviota is missing!”
“W-What?” groaned Vick, startled. “I mean – it’s never been lost for ages. And now, er . . . oh goodness this is going to be a terrible day.”
“It’s terrible already!” the other man spat, turning his head swiftly at her. His neck emitted a crick. “So unless you don’t want to be kicked out of your job, you’d better hurry up.”
“Er –” Vick said.
“Go!” the darker man softly shouted. “He’s now turning gruesome at the others!”
“Er – right!” chided Vick.
She ran immediately out of the bright hallway into the dimly lit drawing room, where a set of tables and chairs strewn unattended, broken glasses everywhere on the floor. She paused for a moment, thinking about cleaning the mess herself, but then an old woman came hurrying towards the mess, holding a long threadbare mop.
“Are you mad?” the old woman scolded. “Let me fix this, attend to your own work!”
“But I – I don’t understand what’s happening!” said Vick demandingly. “The b-book – the Leviota –”
“Shut your mouth! Never ever speak about Leviota unless you want yourself get suspected as the thief,” said the old woman warningly, her voice full of power this time.
“Oh, sorry. The book, that’s what I mean to say. How – how come it’s been stolen if it’s securely protected? The Le – book, it’s guarded by the strongest security workers. It can’t be stolen. It’s impossible.”
“Well, whatever you sa
y. The king is in total wrath, anyway,” said the old woman, grabbing Vick’s shoulder. “You’re my closest friend, Victoria, I don’t want to lose you. The king wouldn’t stop roaming the castle when he lost the book. It’s his most valuable thing.”
“Er – what is our connection about the book? Why is he also angry with us?”
“Because,” the old woman explained, “he has nothing to suspect. I think he’s now on the room-keepers group; he’s squeezing the thing out of them. Probably about an hour and we’re in line to be investigated.”
“Yes,” said Vick abruptly, motioning her head in a series of quick nods. “I’ll be there on – on my work. Where will I head? Oh – right, to the children’s room.”
“Don’t just call them children!” warned the old woman again. “Call them the Prince and the Princess.”
“Sorry I forgot about that –”
“It’s your job! You ought not to forget!”
“Okay, right. It’s er – well –”
“Stop talking! Go where you’re assigned.”
Without another word, Vick hurriedly climbed the wide, golden stairs covered with fine red carpet. And as she hurried, the debris of what had just shocked her remained echoing inside her head, giving her the opportunity to think about it from a deeper phase.
The Leviota being lost has never occurred to anybody because they thought it was an impossible thing to happen. Even the king, in Vick’s mind, probably had been shocked and alarmed into his central core; for so long, he had not paid attention to the Leviota concealed on the dungeon because he had obviously been running around easily. If Vick was not wrong, there were seven hideous Cyclops guarding the Leviota – plus, a girl who was suspected to be a daughter of Medusa (who was a kind of person with a cluster of vipers as her hairs) turning thieves into stones.
When Vick arrived at the landing, she immediately clattered into the left side leading to an end door. Looking at the polished wooden door, she exhaled her woes, and turned the bronze handle.
The inside of the room was magnificently wide: All of the walls were painted with bright green so that it looked doused with splendor; the high, yellow ceiling was bearing an illuminating golden chandelier, spreading beams of consternating lights upon the few condescending furniture.
On the far corner, merely a meter before the veiled window, was a large, queen-sized bed flowed down with thin, decorative net so that it had the very aura of sumptuousness. A girl on her nightdress was sleeping soundlessly. A pair of rabbit sleepers was lying on the shiny floorboards beside an elongated glass display of anime figurines that hadn’t looked like any anime for the untrained eye.
Just a few meters from the glass display was another bed having the same size as the other, but with darker features. Black linen with moon and stars printed on it was tightly tucked beneath the bed, and a boy with his blond hairs obscuring his face was snoring quite loudly. He seemed not to have any problems by the looks, but below the bed were a cluster of crumpled papers and unsharpened pencils, as though he had been thinking very hardly during the night.
Vick stretched her arms and yawned heavily as she was apparently charmed by the looks of the room. Then, closing her mouth and blinking twice as hard, she stepped into the lady’s bed then gently shook her.
“W-wake up, dear,” she said, sounding as lovely as she could. She shook the girl harder. “Eliezer, dear, wake up. . . . It’s almost noon . . . wake up. . . .”
The girl grunted, brushed her blond hairs backward, then popped her eyes open and recognized who had woken her.
“Ah – Mrs. Hagaire, is it not too early for you to be waking us?” the girl named Eliezer had said. “Anyway, is it still dark outside?”
Vick backed off the bed and sprang the pink veil covering the window. There appeared the sunlight, beaming as hard as it could get into Eliezer’s face.
“Mrs. Hagaire, close it!” Eliezer said, chuckling, though her voice was still hoarse. “Nah, ha ha. I’m just joking. . . . I know it’s already morning. You see? Ha ha, I really –”
“El, shut up!” the boy shouted from over his bed. “I’m still trying to sleep!”
“– want my teddy bear, oh where is my teddy bear?” Eliezer continued, as though the other boy had not talked. “Mrs. Hagaire, could you look for Hannah for me?”
“Well, of course, dear,” Vick moaned. “You can get out of bed now so you can stretch out the morning exercise.”
“Uh,” said the boy from the other bed, “do we get an exercise schedule today, Mrs. Hagaire?”
“Oh, yes, if you wish, Godfrey,” Vick retorted, smiling.
The boy called Frey jumped out of bed immediately, as though the exercise schedule was all he had been waiting for, and then he gently went to hug Vick. He was at breast level with Vick, so he probably was still young.
“I thought ten-year-old boys don’t like exercise yet,” Vick chuckled, brushing Godfrey’s head as he hugged her.
“Well,” said Godfrey, looking energetic about the thought as he backed off Vick, “I suppose I’m man enough to do what dad does.”
“Nah, don’t be so valiant, Frey,” said Eliezer, opposing. She emerged out of the darkness of the cavity below her bed holding a huge cream stuff toy on her right hand. “Dad thinks you’re weak.”
“Hey, shut up, El!” Godfrey groaned.
“Well, it’s true. . . . Ah, he said you’re like a . . . like a . . . oh, I already forgot what he said, but I’m sure he said something like you’re still baby to be working out.”
“Don’t get jealous. Just because mom didn’t give you a coat from Biligan doesn’t mean you have to oppose me.”
“I’m not opposing you, Frey!” shouted Eliezer, her brows meeting and her eyes watery. “I’m going to tell dad you’re bugging me and it’s still early in the morning!”
“No – no,” said Vick sharply.
They stopped as they looked at her.
“Er,” she said. “You father is not ready for something like that, dear. He – um – he’s meeting the elder people, and mind not to disturb them. Really important matters, see? They warned me not to get them disturbed until their business finished.”
“But Frey’s telling lies! Dad hates lies, I know it,” Eliezer complained, her voice so high-pitched she had almost sounded like a bird. “And he’s even bugging me –”
“Hey, you’re the one bugging me!”
“No, I would not have bugged you if you hadn’t pretended to be brave or –”
“Kids,” said Vick, and the two halted at once. “I don’t expect you to get angry at each other. Remember our first lesson about discipline? Discipline is . . . ?”
“Is about ‘forgive and forget’,” said Godfrey coldly. “I get, sorry, El.”
“That’s right, Frey,” said Vick, smiling at him. “And you, dear, what would you say about your brother’s apology?”
“S-sorry too, Frey,” Eliezer said. “Sorry.”
“Oh, lovely!” said Vick joyously as she clamped her fingers together. “Now, shall we proceed to the backyard? I suppose it would be a good place to play.”
“Play!” screamed Eliezer. “I love playing. But – um – okay!”
Vick looked over to Godfrey, smiling, but Godfrey’s face was gloomy that he almost looked darkly evaded.
“What is wrong dear?” she asked sincerely.
Godfrey frowned and, for a moment, stared through the window.
“Do you expect us to enjoy playing at the backyard, Mrs. Hagaire?” he questioned authoritatively.
“What do you mean?”
“I hate the garden, there’s a lot of rats there . . . the huge ones, I mean.”
“Oh, yes . . . yes,” Vick answered, relieved of being reminded about the terrific rats. “Well, then, let’s see if you can have more fun in the playground.”
“Oh my – is it ready?” Eliezer screamed joyfully, covering her mouth as she looked astonished around.
“Yes . . . I think so,” Vi
ck replied.
“Oh, I’d love it – I really do!”
“Of course you’ll love it, dear. How about you, Godfrey, the Bravy?”
Godfrey quickly turned his head towards her.
“Bravy?”
“I mean to say: the brave one. That’s your name for my point of view.” She swallowed, apparently quite successful concealing one of her secrets. “Anyway, are we going or what?”
“I’m hungry,” said Eliezer distractingly.
Vick deeply breathed and went back into the topic, brushing her bushy brown hairs as she smiled at Eliezer, who was caressing her own stomach. Godfrey, however, slowly knocked his feet on the floor in boringness.
“Oh sure, sure, you’re hungry . . . how could I . . . easily forget?” She nodded as she wandered her eyes around the ceiling and onto the walls. “Yes, let us – er – proceed now to the dining hall. I’m sure the foods are ready for now.”
“Well, okay,” Eliezer said satisfactorily. She took her own slippers from beneath the bed, and both she and Godfrey followed Vick’s trail out of the room.
And the three of them glided silently into the narrow, high-ceilinged hallway, neither smiling nor casting any trace of noise. After a few more minutes, they reached a dead end, at which a polished bronze door firmly stood with a perfect straight slit in the middle extending towards the floor, quite ajar so that a sliver of silver light and aroma were protruded through the gap. On either side were wooden replicas of giant spoon and fork engraved with linings and letters that could not be easily distinguished.
When they halted, Vick heavily sighed and stepped forward.
“The prince and princess wishes to take their breakfast,” she announced carefully.
And from behind came a scuttling noise of footsteps and startled bearings of ‘shh’ and ‘oh’. Vick, for some measure, skipped a heartbeat; then the bronze door split open.
Standing beside the frame of the door was a man in his early thirties, wearing a black tuxedo and fitted shoes, a red ribbon was tucked on his neckline, and his hands were covered with pearly white gloves. Eliezer and Godfrey looked confused at the moment, staring over at Vick’s back, who had appeared immobile when the door had opened. But on the front view, she had made an awkward gesture on her eyes as it magnified endlessly, merely attempting to tell the man at the doorpost that he should not portray any sign about the castle’s problem or the loss of the Leviota. The man smiled broadly in return, a sign that he understood the message she was trying to convey.
Then he beamed at Vick mirthfully, looked over at Eliezer and Godfrey as he gave out a chilling smile.
“Come on, breakfast is ready, Your Highness, Your Highness,” he said as he gestured his palms towards the inside of the door.
Godfrey made a flinching movement at the sound of the words ‘Your Highness’ apparently irritated. He shook his head.
“Please,” Godfrey began, “call us whatever you like except for that ‘Your Highness’ tosh.”
The man’s smile faded as he turned pale. He gazed at Godfrey momentarily, his jaw widely opened.
“I – sure, of course,” he agreed involuntarily as he looked back at Vick, who was merely horrified.
“Shut up, Frey,” said Eliezer. “Mrs. Hagaire was calling us with that before.”
“Was,” Godfrey retorted irritatingly. “It was a ‘was’, El.”
“Oh, children, you’re so adorable,” said Vick, turning around to face them. “But” – she raised her left point finger rather warningly – “you should not talk to each other like that. Do you still remember our lesson?”
“Yeah, I get it.”
“So,” she concluded, “let’s get going then.”
Behind them, Eliezer and Godfrey distraughtly came first then managed to look calm, thought their emotions were strongly visible. Vick and the man followed after them slowly, talking about something in a voice that was barely whisper.
As they passed along the broad alley that was perfectly covered with tapestries and brilliant red carpet on the floor, Godfrey shook his head. He had always hated people calling them ‘Your Highness’ for he had never dreamed about a luxurious life. So what if their parents were the king and queen? In fact, Godfrey could clearly see the real essence of life through the hardships of the poor people. . . . He had dreamed about running in the forest and climbing the oldest resilient tree, but the reality had forbidden him from that chance.
Now for the millionth time, they entered a large room whose walls were entirely made out of glass overlooking the village around. Below a golden chandelier with twisted irons around was a grease-black rectangular table with twenty or more set of chairs on either side occupying vacancy. The large table was full of diverse victuals: strawberry cakes, pancakes with honey dripping, roasted chickens, pineapples, mangoes and red apples.
Though there had been too much food, only Eliezer and Godfrey sat silently surrounded by servants and servers who were standing perfectly still. When they were finally seated, a stout server went near them and ushered foods on their plates, then stepped back afterwards.
The man on black coat came next, but he was not there to serve them food.
“Sir, ma’am,” he said, deeply making emphasis. “Would you like to change from your nightdresses?”
“No,” said Eliezer strictly, “we’ll eat first, of course, we’re hungry.”
“You’re right, El,” Godfrey mumbled as he brushed his blonde hairs.
“Sir!” the man exclaimed. “You are not supposed to touch your hairs.”
Godfrey stubbornly gave him an impaling look then said, “And who ordered you to forbid me from touching my hairs?”
“Oh,” said the guy, embarrassed, followed by soft giggles from the other servants except Vick.
“You eat now, dear,” she said comfortingly.
__________
After the breakfast which Godfrey did not enjoy with the servers watching, Vick escorted them out of the massive dining hall, and into the wide clearing outside the Palace.
They continued walking until they finally arrived at a park with swings, slides, sandboxes, and a labyrinth hedges with human-size topiaries shaped into different animals. Eliezer immediately hurried herself into one of the slides, and Godfrey buried himself in the sandboxes; Vick, however, was sitting under an umbrella stand, watching them.
She was looking relaxed yet perplexed about the problem inside the Palace. Was the Leviota found at this time of the day? If it was, for some luck, found now, thus she could lie low and drop all of her woes, but what if it was not found? She knew deep inside that she just couldn’t afford to be terminated; there was nowhere out there to land if she lost her job – not even a family.
Vick gnawed her fingernails as she stared over at Eliezer wildly descending the slide. Vick wished for a daughter every day before, but there came a time when she was traumatized and had to pull up and stop. The debris of that lost wish began haunting her.
And now that the Leviota was lost, it seemed too possible that the king would get angry and had all of the servants replaced immediately. Her fears would have come delayed had it not been about the Leviota, and now the last good thing about her would now go wrong as well.
She turned to look over at Godfrey, but her attention was distracted by a bass cough that emerged from behind her. Slowly, Vick turned and saw a knight standing with his sword and shield on both hands; his face was concealed inside a steel head gear, with only a line of bars for him to see.
“Sir Nathaniel,” Vick uttered in a chivalrous demeanor.
The knight did now move as he spoke.
“I was under the order of King Elvandork to summon you for a very crucial questioning.”
“Q-questioning? What are you talking about, sir?”
Sheathing his sword, the knight continued, “What do I know for sure? I was just sent here to summon you without any further information given.”
So this was it, Vick thought as she swallowed.
/> And when she talked, her voice was barely audible. “Sir, yes, I – I’ll be there,” she said fearfully. Well, how much more fear would she endure in front of the king?
“King Elvandork, I forgot, has also wished me to escort you safely.”
Vick’s jaw dropped. “I . . . yes, of course, Sir Nathaniel. . . .”
Behind the sandbox, Godfrey watched them walk and enter the Palace. With his heart beating quickly, he stormed towards Eliezer and told her what he saw.
Eliezer did not give any reaction about it, as though impassive, and then she said, “Mrs. Hagaire had lots of works, Frey. She just can’t be with us all day long.”
“You’re right, but she’s been with us every day before. It’s – it’s weird that she was acting like such a cat.”
“Listen,” Eliezer said. “We don’t understand what’s happening so we better play something else . . . maybe hide-and-seek.”
“Yeah, that’s a cool suggestion, El. Okay, I’ll take hiding and you take the seeker’s job. If you found me, we’ll exchange tasks.”
Eliezer frowned but agreed. She hurriedly ran and faced the nearest hedge.
“One . . . two . . . three . . .” she chanted, and Godfrey hid behind the hedge she was facing. “. . . seven . . . eight . . . nine . . . ten! Ready or not, here I come!”
Eliezer stepped back and wandered wearily around the labyrinth of hedges, but she never saw Godfrey no matter how hard she tried to look over the narrow curves of the labyrinth of hedges.
“I can’t find you, Frey!” she thundered complainingly and tiredly.
“Keep searching, El!” came Godfrey’s voice.
Eliezer continued walking, then she began jumping happily as she saw a set of glowing butterfly-like creatures, flames emitting from their butts and their wings flapping fast. The creatures began flying, and Eliezer thought that maybe they could lead her to where Godfrey was hiding. Although it had been a long time for her following the creatures, she found herself enjoying their colors and graceful movements until they disappeared into smoke as their own flames burned them out.
“What?” she asked herself, though she knew nothing for an answer. “Where had they gone?”
The surrounding was silent. A few meters from where she was standing was already the darkness of the woodland; chills were pouring out of it so that Eliezer was quite shivering at the sight. Vines, the thickness of a man’s neck, dangled heavily from trees then falling into the mossy boulders. Between the woodland and the labyrinth was a tall barrier of shaped irons, but on the left corner was wreckage.
Eliezer tried to comfort herself by gulping and embracing herself, but there was nothing helpful about it. She felt vastly agitating with the coldness of the woodland beside, and she grew tired messily scratching her hairs.
“This isn’t a joke, Frey! Come out, show yourself!” she exclaimed feebly valiant. “I’m going to call back those creatures to eat you!”
There was no response.
She continued to scuttle the end of the labyrinth where deformed topiaries were stocked, chains strewn everywhere, and rocks and vases that were broken lay messily. There was a cracked birdfeed with its faucet missing from its place; down it was surrounded by the unused bushes that grew wildly untrimmed and tiny misty green flowers emerging from the top.
When Eliezer looked at it, she spotted the color of her favorite creature.
“They’re here,” she said to herself, quite relieved. “They found Frey.”
Two brilliantly scarlet dots were glowing from the inside of the bush, as though peeking out their butts. It looked like the fire, but it seemed to be modulated with no sound.
Eliezer slowly tiptoed beside it, grabbed a snapped cane beside the birdfeed, unleashed the bush very carefully, but what she saw sent her toppling backwards onto the ground, screaming and panting as loud as her voice would permit.
From her back, Godfrey came running towards her, patting her shoulders as he knelt on the ground. He did not understand what was happening. Once upon a time, he remembered they were playing hide-and-seek; now her sister was crying and screaming and he almost got himself deaf.
“What was it, El? Tell me!” he said alarmingly. “Tell me what happened?”
But Eliezer only screamed and cried, pointing towards the bush she had unleashed. The two scarlet dots were gone, and the cane she used was the only thing that kept the bush opened to reveal what was inside. For a few minutes, Godfrey was deciding between decisions if he would see it himself, but his sister’s scream had touched his heart.
Standing and wiping the tears from her sister’s eyes, Godfrey carefully walked; every step he took sent him nervousness and chills down his spine. He gulped and opened his eyes to see what it was.
A rotting human head, with the sculpt peeled off, bloody eyes bulging out of their sockets, teeth barred yellowish, and pinkish brains sliding out of a crack behind the head; flies, ants, and worms were busily circling inside and around it.
Godfrey almost threw up as he saw it, and the disgusting smell even sent him bad feelings crumbling on his stomach and throat. It smelled worse like a decaying rat, with a slight mixture of garbage dump and canal waters.
Like his sister, he also stumbled back but was not screaming. He rushed and crawled for a few meters and threw up his breakfast, Eliezer still crying. Godfrey looked and hugged her more comfortingly, kissing her forehead.
“It is okay, El,” he said. His face had flourished with earth and so were his hairs. “Let’s go now. . . .”
He heaved his sister on his back and he stood, taking one last glance at the bush.
The two scarlet dots reappeared at once . . . they were not dots . . . they were pupils. When Godfrey looked more closely at it and seized recognition, the bush quivered and the scarlet pupils vanished into nothingness.
CHAPTER TEN:
THE WAGON