CHAPTER 23

They didn’t bother returning the box to its original place. It was too heavy to lift, and neither of them wanted to linger in the attic. They made their way to the mayor’s quarters and found Line lying on a couch near the edge of the pool. He was wrapped in a heavy wool blanket. At first, Marin thought he’d passed out, but then he looked up when they entered.

“How are you?” she asked.

Line pulled down the blanket and held his injured arm out in front of him. “It still hurts, but at least I soaked it for a while.”

Marin walked to the couch and held the candle over Line’s body. “Can I see?”

Line raised his arm to the light. His forearm was red and swollen, even though the wound itself looked unchanged.

“It’s not getting better,” said Marin.

“I have some lekar for you,” added Kana. He motioned Marin away, then bent down to look at the arm himself.

“Hmm,” said Kana, grimacing theatrically. “I’m afraid we’ll have to cut it off. Just in case.”

“Away with it, then,” replied Line with a smile.

Kana may have been joking, but he’d also voiced what they all were thinking. A condition like Line’s, left untreated, could quickly turn into gangrene. Everyone on the island knew about gangrene. There was a time, several sun cycles before, when woodfern had simply disappeared. This meant there was no reliable remedy against infections, leading to numerous amputations. You could still see these old-timers—elderly men and women with missing fingers, toes, even hands. Palan, the old man they’d met on the cliffs, was one of them. His left hand had been taken after a minor cut had stubbornly refused to heal.

Kana went to the pool and scrubbed his hands with the warm water. Then he walked back to Line, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small wooden container with a metal screw top. Inside were a few ounces of the bright yellow ointment. Line nodded appreciatively as Kana applied the ointment to his wound.

“Thanks,” said Line with a sigh. He leaned back in the couch and looked up at Kana. “So—did you find anything downstairs? Any treasures?”

“No,” Kana said, a little too quickly. Line raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

“I still want to barricade the door,” said Kana. “It shouldn’t be too hard. Marin, could you help me move this furniture?”

“A barricade?” said Line. He yawned loudly. “Against what? The dark? Let’s just sleep for a while.”

“I’d feel better if the door was locked,” said Kana. He couldn’t help but shake his head at the irony. He’d been horrified when Anton had bolted the windows, dreading the thought of being locked inside his bedroom. And now, here I am, wanting to lock myself up. Perfect.

Line yawned again and looked at his friend. It was as if the hot water had sapped all sense of urgency from him. “Kana, come on,” said Line. “You need to take a dip. You, too, Marin. And then, if you still want, we’ll do the barricade.”

“No, thanks,” said Marin. “I just want to sleep.”

Kana eyed the bathtub. It did look rather inviting. “Fine,” he said finally. He walked over to the pool, stripped to his undergarments, slipped into the warm water, and closed his eyes. Line was right—it felt amazing. After a few more minutes, he climbed out and took a towel from a neatly folded stack. He wiped his face, noticing how thick and luxurious the towel felt. And the mayor decided not to take these? Go figure.

Kana looked around. Line and Marin were lying on adjacent couches and seemed to be sleeping already. For a moment, he considered waking them up to barricade the door, but now the idea seemed paranoid and a little silly. After all, they weren’t in the forest. He dressed and sank into a plush couch. In a matter of seconds, Kana was fast asleep.

Several hours later, Kana awoke to his sister whispering in his ear. Marin’s terrified face was about six inches from his. She was holding a too-bright candle that trembled wildly in her hand.

“Someone’s downstairs,” she whispered.

Kana sat up. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” said Marin. “Listen.”

Neither of them spoke for almost a full minute. There was only silence. Kana was about to tell his sister to go back to sleep when they both heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps below—heavy, slow, and deliberate. Then came the grinding screech that meant someone had pulled a knife from the mantel. Moments later, the stairs began to creak.

“BLOCK THE DOOR!” shouted Kana. “LINE—WAKE UP!”

In a flash, Kana and Marin sprang to their feet, stumbled across the room, and grabbed hold of a wooden dresser that sat near the apartment door. Line joined them seconds later.

“What’s going on?” he said.

“Footsteps,” Marin replied. “We need to move this dresser. Now.”

The dresser was heavy, but it moved. Marin, Kana, and Line all gave a final push and the dresser slid into place, blocking the doorway. The footsteps grew closer, steadily moving up the stairs. A few seconds later, the footsteps stopped and the doorknob turned. Marin, Kana, and Line pushed against the dresser with their backs against it, feet out in front of them for traction. Still, the door opened a crack, perhaps a quarter of an inch, before they were able to push the dresser back into place.

“Who is it?” yelled Line. “What do you want?”

Kana could sense his and Marin’s fear. He never realized that the emotion had such a distinctive scent.

Seconds later, the door rattled in its hinges and the dresser began to slide. Whoever was on the other side of this door was tremendously strong. Kana, Line, and Marin all braced themselves against the dresser, using their legs, backs, and arms to keep it in place. It wasn’t enough. The door continued to slide open and a wet, throaty grunt came from the other side.

“Come on!” screamed Line. “Harder!”

They rallied and pushed back. A moment later, the door abruptly clicked shut, as if whoever or whatever was on the other side had given up. There was a full minute of calm. They heard their adversary breathing in deep, baritone grunts. Soon, the sound of breathing was subsumed by the scrape of a sharp blade slicing into the wood on the other side of the door. The sound continued for another moment, then stopped.

The same heavy footsteps retreated down the stairs. The house fell silent.

Kana, Marin, and Line slumped to the floor, muscles twitching with exertion. None of them stirred. They just sat there in a prolonged state of shock. Finally, Marin spoke.

“What just happened?” she asked the dark room.

The two boys were silent.

“Who was that?” asked Marin.

“More like what was that,” said Line. “Did you hear that breathing?”

“It knew we were here,” said Marin. “It came right for us.”

“Well,” said Kana, “we weren’t hiding—with the signal lamp being lit and all.”

Marin scoffed. “You think this is happening because we lit the signal lamp?”

“Stop,” said Line. “It doesn’t matter. We have a problem, because they clearly know we’re here.” Despite the warm pool, the room felt even colder now.

“They?” asked Marin. “What makes you think there’s more than one?”

Line stood up, exhaled, and shook the tension out of his arms.

“Just a guess,” he replied. “If there’s one of those things living out there, it seems logical there’d be more. Question is—what do we do now?”

Kana pulled himself up as well. He looked at the dresser. “I guess we start by opening the door.”

Marin shook her head. “Why would we do that?”

Kana turned to Line for support. “We can’t stay in here forever. Besides, I want to see the other side. You heard that carving, right?”

“Right,” said Line. “Let’s have a look.”

“Fine,” said Marin with a slight nod of her head. “Just be quick about it.”