Page 29 of The Otherworld

After wandering for another ten minutes to no avail, I accept that I’ve lost the small but promising trace of Adam.

Or was it Adam?

Perhaps I imagined the footprints. Perhaps the spiderwebs had snapped some other way. Perhaps Lucius was tracking that silly squirrel the whole time.

Still, we carry on. I occasionally open Adam’s journal and tell Lucius to “find.” I check the compass to be sure I’m not going in circles. And I walk. Ever onward, I walk.

As the hours pass, the clouds above grow denser and dim the forest to a grayish-blue gloaming. It looks like rain. I draw the hood of my cloak over my head and continue scouting as best I can in the low light.

When my stomach burns with hunger, we stop for a short break under a tree. Lucius rolls around like a puppy in the grass while I unwrap a small pouch of almonds and two hard-boiled eggs. I devour most of the food but give Lucius one of the eggs because I forgive him for chasing the squirrel.

That’s when it starts to rain—big, cold drops falling hard on my shoulders. The canopy shields me from the elements, but it also makes it difficult to tell how heavily it is raining outside the forest. If the wind picks up, I’ll have to turn back.

I stand up and brush the stray pine needles off my hands.

“All right, Lucius, let’s—”

Blood.

My heart thuds when I see a streak of dark red smeared on my right hand.

I look down at the place I was sitting moments ago. At the base of the tree trunk, I see a scuffle of pine needles among my footprints. When I take a closer look, I find a few oak leaves curiously stuck together, smudged with blood.

I straighten up, my fingertips going ice cold as the rain falls faster. The birds have stopped singing, and a thin layer of fog is beginning to lift from the forest floor, shrouding the world in an eerie mist. Lucius gets a fat raindrop right in the eye and sneezes, then looks at me as if to say, Let’s go home.

“But he’s hurt,” I whisper, turning in a slow circle to reexamine the woods around me. “He’s out here somewhere, and he’s hurt…”

I glance back down at the smear of blood on my skin. A raindrop lands in my palm, sending a thin trickle of watercolor red dripping down my arm.

I haven’t been able to get a good look at the sky since I entered the forest—I have no idea how bad this rain will be. And the chickens are still out. The last thing I want to be is stranded in the woods during a thunderstorm.

But what about Adam?

He’s injured. He’s bleeding. And I can’t find him. I can’t find him…

Conflicting emotions grapple inside me, pulling me in two different directions. I would stay out here all night if it were up to me. I would scour every inch of the forest, leaving no stone unturned.

But I promised Papa I would take care of the lighthouse. I can’t break my promise.

Lucius starts heading north, his tail drooping down between his legs. I know his animal instincts are more sensible than mine. I know it’s time to head back home. So I follow him, wordless.

I was so foolish not to tell Papa about Adam Stevenson. He would have known a better way to search—he would have had maps, landmarks, and a firmer command to keep Lucius at heel. With two people searching, we might have found Adam yesterday.

But I didn’t tell Papa. Stupidly—so stupidly—I thought I could handle this myself. I was so enamored of the idea that I could rescue Adam, help Jack, and impress my father in one fell swoop. But all I’ve done is cause more harm. What if Adam dies out here? What if it’s all my fault?

My eyes are stinging with frustrated tears when I finally reach the forest’s edge. Lucius bolts across the lawn, making a beeline for the back door—his tail still between his legs.

What on earth?

I frown, stepping out of the forest just as a fierce wind blows off the sea, flattening the long grass and tugging my cloak hood off my head. That’s when I look up and see the monstrous storm in the sky.

8

Gone, Gone, Gone

JACK

The sky looks pissed off.

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