“What does he want with them?” I asked, more confused than ever. “Just to use their shadows, but for what? What is the point of all this?”
“No one knows,” Lochlan said. “The boys have created this space for themselves. Most of them have never even seen the shadow king. They don’t really care much about him.” He pointed upward. “They cut the branches so sun would shine through. They made this place into a home for themselves.”
“Mm,” I said.
A boar sat on a spit over the fire, roasting, a few boys rotating it. “How do they get food?”
“They hunt. Another thing they taught themselves. These boys are resourceful. It doesn’t hurt that the pirate lord has given them countless supplies over the years. Hunting tools, pots, pans, clothes, shoes, needles and thread, tents. It’s amazing.”
Mal stood in the distance with a group of boys who were jumping on his back, tugging on his sleeves, laughing and playing while Mal faked being a monster.
I laughed.
“He’s done a lot too,” Lochlan said, nodding at Mal. “He’s taught the boys about structure, organization. They did well, but they didn’t have a lot of routines in place, didn’t have specific roles. Mal’s worked with them to implement that. He’s mentored some of them into being quite the leaders.”
“He’s good at planning.” My youngest brother flipped a boy over his head. “At leading.” I looked up at Lochlan. “You think he’ll come around?”
Lochlan roped me into him and planted a kiss on the top of my head. “Of course he will. C’mon, let me show you where you all can sleep.”
Chapter Fifty
Fires dotted the campsite that night, and Bartholomew entertained all the boys with his songs about the shadow court. He stood, strumming his banjo and singing, the fire illuminating the puckered scars across his face.
“He woke up covered in mud
The trees around him silent and still
He was determined to escape the jungle prison
So he spent his days roaming the land
Searching for his shadow
He stumbled upon it on a night so fine
And caught it in his grasp
But the slippery shadow darted away
Leaving the boy all alone
Every time he tried
It escaped through his grasp
Until he finally got a bright idea
That shadow would be his at last
He pounced on it and sewed its foot
Right to the bottom of his shoe
He escaped the island
And lived to tell the tale
His shadow and his body reunited once again.”