Addie had been anxious when Preacher set off in search of answers. Now, almost two hours later, she paced the house, glancing out the windows, stepping onto the porch, and peering down the street. At first, Sophia would tell her to rest, find something to occupy her, not to worry about Preacher. The last few times she’d gone outside, though, she’d come back in to find Sophia standing inside the doorway, waiting for a report. Addie would say she could not see him and Sophia would deflate, only to rouse herself with assurances that Preacher was fine, he could look after himself.
Finally, as the second hour drew to a close, Addie said, “I want to go look for him.”
Sophia said nothing, which Addie knew meant she wished to say yes but knew she oughtn’t.
“I’ll be quick,” Addie said. “He’s probably down at the hall, talking to the mayor and Eleazar. I’ll find him, and then I’ll come straight back.”
Sophia nodded. Addie gathered her things and went.
* * *
Preacher was not in town. Neither was Mayor Browning nor Mr. Dobbs. As Addie learned, Preacher had been asking after them, and someone had last seen Dobbs and Browning heading into the woods, and Preacher had gone off in pursuit.
Addie followed. They’d taken the main trail out of town, which made tracking difficult. She looked for small signs—a broken twig, a boot print in damp ground—and kept her ears attuned. She was no more than a quarter mile from town when she heard Browning and Dobbs returning. She snuck into the forest to watch as they passed. Soon she saw them, trudging along, faces grim, not speaking. There was a purpling bruise on the mayor’s jaw. She stared at that, then began drawing back farther to let them pass, when she spotted something on Dobbs’s boots. They were light brown, tanned leather . . . and one was speckled red.
Addie crept hunched over through the undergrowth, until she was close enough to see the glistening specks. More on his trouser leg. Blood. There was no doubt of it.
Addie tried to inhale but couldn’t force the air into her chest. Her heart pounded too hard.
Mr. Dobbs is speckled with blood. Preacher is missing. Preacher, who dared argue against their plan. Dared suggest it was not the work of God.
She held herself still until they were gone. Then she dashed onto the path and broke into a run.
* * *
Addie tore along the path, convinced she would at any moment stumble over Preacher’s dead body. She did not, which only made her more panicked, certain it was out there in the forest, where she would not find it, where scavengers would feast—
She took deep, shuddering breaths to calm herself, then began retracing her steps along the path, slower now, searching for any sign that someone had left the path. When she reached the first fork, she heard something. She stopped, eyes squeezed shut as she listened. Then she tore down the secondary path, branches whipping her face, until—
“Addie?”
Preacher’s voice. Preacher’s footfalls, pounding along the path. Then he was there, standing in front of her. No blood to be seen.
“Addie? Are you all right? Is it Sophia? Is she—?”
“Sophia is well.” She bent, catching her breath. “All is well.”
She hiccuped a laugh. All is well? Charlie is possessed by some demon monster. All is not well. But right now, it is. Preacher is fine. Unharmed.
Preacher came over, face drawn in concern, hand resting on her arm as she found her breath.
“It’s all right,” she said. “We were only worried about you. Me and Sophia.”
“Sophia and I,” Preacher said.
Addie burst out with a real laugh then. No matter how dire the situation, he could not fail to correct her grammar, as gently as if they were at the supper table, saying grace.
When she laughed, Preacher gave a crooked smile and shook his head, murmuring an apology before saying, “Well, you’ve found me. And I did not find what I was looking for.”
“The mayor and Mr. Dobbs? I saw them a ways back. Returning to town.”
“They’ve finished their mission then,” he whispered beneath his breath.
“What mission?”
He looked startled, as if he had not meant to speak aloud. “They were out here for something. I know not what. Come. Let’s go back to town.”
As they began to walk, Addie thought about the blood on Dobbs’s boot. He had not hurt Preacher, but he had hurt something. Some animal? She recalled stories of dark magic, with animals sacrificed to the Devil.
“Perhaps we ought to find where they’ve been,” she said.
“That’s what I was trying to do.”
“No, you were trying to find where they were. I can track where they’ve been.”
He hesitated. “All right then. I don’t want to leave Sophia for long, but if we can discover what they were doing, we ought to.”