Pip and the Twilight Seekers (10 page)

“Quiet,” said Hogwick. “I won’t hear of it. Do not give ideas to the others. Their bellies grow hungry and their minds grow weak. They will be easily influenced.”

It was true, there was unrest in the forest. Trouble in the trees was not good for the cause of the woodsfolk. The strength of their union would be their success. Disagreement would not help.

There was much talk between the forest creatures. “Hunger breeds
anger in the demons,” confided Hogwick. She was in discussion with Roach and Stixx. “We wield great power over the city with the children alive. But without them we are nothing—back to where we started. Keep your companions alert at all times. Some of our brethren are nothing but animals and think only of food and water. We must keep a careful eye over the keep. The anger of the bark demons needs to be used to our advantage. If they grow more discontent it may be the right time to make an attack and send them into the city.”

“You may be right. We must discuss it with the others,” said Roach.

Esther had neglected to inform the forest of Jarvis’s misadventure. Her time was consumed by following the guardsmen and making sure she knew where Jarvis was located. She also wanted to be the only one responsible for his escape. It was important that she won favor with her master. Captain Dooley had been stealing the limelight, telling his tales and allowing Jarvis to pick off the children. She must prove her worth and win her place again as his companion.

She found the small window at the top of the hangman’s tower, bedded her feet into the snow- trimmed ledge, and pushed her face up to the glass. Her large beak pointed downward, and she used it to scratch away at the frost. She could see something in there. Captain Dooley was no use when it came to escapes. Only she could help.

She felt sure that she could break in. Those little panes of glass would only take so much pecking before they cracked.

Jarvis sat with his head buried in his hands. Just when he had started to make some progress, his whole world had fallen apart again. Things had been perfect. With Captain Dooley by his side he had been able to pick off those children from the city and fill the forest keep. Why had he been so careless? It was his own fault, he knew.

If Captain Dooley ended up in the wrong hands those children might survive. Every last one of them. And he hated children so much that just that thought alone brought a tear to his eye.

A cracking sound came from above. He gazed toward the tall ceiling of the room where he was kept. A tiny window he hadn’t noticed was splintering glass down on him.

“What … Esther! What are you doing here?” Her beak poked through the fractured glass pane and she turned her head sideways to gaze down upon him. When she was sure it was him she disappeared again. She would return with rope and he would be out within no time at all.

The children had emerged from their hiding space inside the cupboard and were now taking a good look at Captain Dooley, although they were anxious about making use of him. That horrible little wooden face was not to be trusted, they were sure. But the truth was, Captain Dooley held no discrimination. He just blurted out the truth to whomever asked him.

No one had wanted to touch him. Or look at him. Frankie was brave enough to step up and take hold. She half expected a bite or a nip, but to start with, there was nothing from the lifeless character. At first sight, he appeared to be just what he was, a limp and lifeless puppet. But he felt Frankie’s grip around him and everything came to him in a breath. “Little Frances Duprie. Escaping the horrors of the hollow while her siblings wait in vain.”

Immediately she threw the doll to the floor in shock, her heart quickening.

“I don’t want to touch him,” she said.

Pip was emptying a tattered and torn drawstring bag of odds and ends. “Use this,” he said. Frankie picked the captain up by his hat and dropped him inside.

For the moment they sat tight in Jarvis’s hovel and discussed their plans. With all the fuss of Jarvis being captured they were sure his home would be a safe haven for now.

Toad was wandering around the room and Pip watched him bend down and take something from the floor. He held it up and shook the dust from it. It was Jarvis’s black cloak. He pulled it on and pretended to walk like Jarvis, holding his torch up to the windows and doors, and it got them all laughing, for a moment at least. But Pip could see Toad’s mind turning over. He was having serious thoughts—something to do with the cloak itself.

“No!” said Pip.

“It could work,” said Toad.

“What are you talking about?” asked Frankie.

“Follow me,” said Toad, and, taking a careful look through the window first, he stepped outside the door, pulled on the cloak, and jumped into the carriage seat, taking hold of the reins in both hands.

“Come along, my pesky little city rats. Come to Mister Jarvis,” said Toad, laughing out loud in his best Jarvis voice.

“Are you serious?” said Pip.

“How else we gonna get into that forest keep?”

“You look too short. Hang on,” said Pip, and he jumped aboard, perching on the back of the seat with his legs around Toad’s shoulders. He pulled the cloak up higher and yanked the hood over his own head.

Pip looked at Frankie. It was the most terrifying thought that any of them had ever had. But it might be the only thing that could work. It would make for an easy route into the forest and on to the keep.

“It looks OK,” said Frankie with her arms folded, “but now the legs seem too short! Wait there.” And then she took her turn and squeezed herself up to the end of Toad’s legs in the footwell as if to extend the leg area.

“Good thinking,” said Toad, and he pulled the cloak across her.

“Are we brave enough to see this through?” said Frankie.

“Are we dumb enough to let those forest gumps walk all over us? Is there a better plan?” asked Toad.

“Come on then. Giddyup, lass,” Pip whispered to the mare, and they set off with the carriage rumbling to life, Pip finding his feet with the reins and steering up out of the dip that was home to Jarvis’s hovel. He pulled the hood of the cloak well over his face, ensuring he wasn’t seen.

“Do you know where we’re going?” said Pip.

“Of course I know where I’m going,” said Toad. “I’ve lived here for twelve years. I know these streets better than old Jarvis. Just listen for my directions.”

As the carriage rolled into the city streets, Toad discreetly whispered his route to the forest. They would pass under the central bridge and around the fountain, and then through the pointed arch past the Deadman’s Hand and toward the nearby trees. Toad knew he would see the burned-out remains at the back of the inn, and he knew they would all be tempted to go straight there. To do so was to put them all in great danger and blow their cover. It would take all his willpower not to head through the door and throw his arms around his father.

In the tall wingbacked chair that was huddled to the burning embers sat the large figure of Sam. He broke the silence with loud snores.

Sam felt something shake him, and he awoke immediately. At first he stared unknowingly. He said nothing but he held his arm out and touched Toad’s face. He looked up to see that Frankie and Pip were by his side. He stared for a while and the four of them stayed silent, all looking at each other. “Is it really you, son? I thought I’d lost you!”