Page 60 of Emma & Edmund

"Keep them southeast, and leave the rest to me," Edmund said lowly, pushing away from the tree.

"Which way is southeast?"

Edmund looked as if he didn't know whether to laugh or sigh, but in the end, pointed against the setting sun. The way William had stomped down.

"There's a fork up the path. I'll meet you there."

William had already disappeared by the time Emma rejoined her brother. She had been in the company of every type of angry Jonathan, from feeling cheated to drunk to being a sore loser. Although this was the first time she had seen him angry over being lost, his show of stomping around and cursing bore trivial difference to other tantrums he threw.

"Finally!" He expounded when she was close. "I have been yelling for you!"

"You have been yelling, all right. Where is Mr. Tate?"

"Ah, the bastard headed off a moment ago. The dunce will get himself lost if we don't hurry."

"I believe two dunces, and one silly girl, are already lost."

Jonathan ignored her, hands on his hips and glowering at the path, as if it was the dirt's fault they had wandered so off course. After another spout of muttering and a kick of a small stone, Jonathan shoved his hands in his pockets. "Well, let's go find the man before he gets himself killed out here."

Her brother began down the path, and Emma glanced over her shoulder. Edmund was nowhere to be seen, no flutter of a shadow or crinkle of a leaf, and she found herself wishing he was still beside her. At least then, she knew they would be all right.

But, she had to remind herself, he had given her the tools to be all right anyway. While not entirely independent, there was at least a plan. And for the first time that afternoon, it was a plan made by someone who knew what they were doing.

Hurrying to catch up with Jonathan, the two walked in silence. Emma kept her eyes on the trees, knowing Edmund was somewhere within them.

She had stared at the tree line while on the Belmont property, wondering if he was there, but this time she knew he was. And she craved to be able to spot him despite his best efforts.

"There he is." Jonathan pulled Emma from her thoughts to see the fork Edmund had told her to wait for just ahead, unmarked and directions indistinguishable. Standing at their crossroads, studying the dirt as if the answer would come from the muck, was William Tate.

"There you are!" He shouted to the siblings, beckoning them with wide sweeps of his arm. "At last, there's a clue."

Her heart immediately jumped to her throat. Had William found Edmund's aid? Had he spotted Edmund?

"The ground this way looks far more used. Wouldn't it make sense that it at least led us to civilization?"

"Or whatever qualifies for that around here."

Releasing a deep sigh of relief, Emma brought a hand to her pounding heart.

Edmund had gone unseen. He could have run laps around the group and they never would have noticed. Furthermore, the fork is exactly where he had said his help would begin.

She did have to admit, though, William had a solid reason for his point. One direction did seem well-used, well-worn, and free of any debris or overgrowth. By contrast, the other, while perhaps once a traveled and clean throughway, had been left to the elements. A layer of leaves from the previous fall concealed the ground, broken sticks laid everywhere, and branches creaked closely to the trail's edge.

Yet, as she looked down both, a peculiar thing on the ground caught her attention.

A single, curled thin strip of sliced wood was placed perfectly, intentionally, right where the rustic path began to disappear under leaves. It was Edmund's guide; she was never more certain of anything in her life.

"No," she said the moment she knew what she saw, "we have to go this way."

"Emma," Jonathan began to whine, before being overtaken by William.

"Now Emma, that seems like a poor decision. Obviously, if we go-"

"Now look here," Emma burst, her thin strand of patience snapping at the slightest rebuttal, raising a pointed, accusatory finger to the men, "I was dragged into these woods, demanded to find some wayward woman, and taken halfway to Timbuktu all before you lot would even admit to being lost. And now, I know exactly where to go, and you will not deny me. Either you come with me, or I go alone and let you find your death out here. Now, what will it be?"

Had they been back at Belmont, back in London, Emma would never have gotten away with such words to such men. Her cheek might even glow red from the reprimand she could receive in the shape of a handprint. But whether it be the situation or simply that she stood before two disoriented men in desperate need of help, the only thing she did receive was bewildered looks.

"Ah," William sputtered, "well then, I - ah - I suppose we go that way. Right, Jonathan?"

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