Arthur hugged them tight. “What day is it?”
“Wednesday.”
The better part of a week since Charlotte had come after him. Arthur swallowed. He had to believe she was all right, wherever she was, for the children’s sake as well as his own.He’dmade it this far unscathed after only one day less since leaving the vale—although that had mostly been Ira’s doing.
Then he processed something Sasha had said. “Who’s Miss Elspeth?”
“She wears trousers.” Sasha’s eyes gleamed. “I want to be just like her.”
“She’s a stranger, kind of,” Jonas said. “But she helped Mama up the hill last week. They came looking for you together.”
Charlotte wasn’t alone. Or hadn’t been, when she’d left Seacliff. The Lord of the Wood wasn’t traveling with her, but someone was. That was something, Arthur told himself, it was, itwas, but his brain threatened to spiral into panic. He didn’t know where Charlotte was, whether she was alive, and now the children were in the forest, too—although, while that worried him, he couldn’t help but be grateful to see them.
A bandage was tied inexpertly around Jonas’s arm. Arthur examined it, worried one of the strange, translucent animals had hurt them. The bandage was rusty with dried blood.
“What’s this, duck?”
Jonas shivered. “These giant eagles chased us. One of them tried to eat Sasha.”
“I tied the bandage myself,” Sasha said proudly.
Arthur chuckled. She sounded as if she’d had a fun romp through a magical forest, with no concern for how the forest had tried to kill them. And while the eagles were terrible, they weren’t infected, or hadn’t been when he’d seen them.
“You did a marvelous job, just as Jonas did a marvelous job making sure the stormwings didn’t eat you. Can I see?”
“You don’t like blood,” Jonas said.
Arthur’s mouth twitched, but his skin prickled. “I’ve had some practice with it now.”
His mouth puckered when he untied the bandage, however. A gash in Jonas’s arm dribbled blood sluggishly.
“Do you have more bandages, duck?”
“I’ll get them.” Sasha dragged the pillowcases from Maurice’s back with difficulty. He snuffled at her hair. She kissed his nose loudly and dragged her burden to Arthur. “They’re in Jonas’s.”
Arthur had no idea which was Jonas’s, since both pillowcases were identical, but he opened one, was immediately corrected, and opened the other. The corner of his mouth turned up. Each pillowcase held a bottle of water, a change of clothes, whatever dried or cured food they’d found around the house, and a few things—like the bandages—pilfered from Charlotte’s medical supplies. Sasha’s also had a kitchen knife; Jonas’s, a pair of scissors and a ball of twine. The only things out of place were Sasha’s old rag doll, Charlotte’s favorite whistle, and one of Arthur’s novels.
He clutched it briefly and set it aside in favor of the bandages. “What’s the book for, duck?”
Jonas pinkened. “That was Sasha’s idea. In case we found you and you were scared. That’s what the whistle is for, too. In case Mama was scared.”
“And the doll, for Sasha.” Arthur wiped blood from their arm. “What about you, duck?”
They shook their head. “I didn’t think anything would make me feel better in here. Until we found you.”
Smiling crookedly, Arthur kissed their forehead. Their flush deepened, but they leaned against him when he finished rebandaging their arm.
“Let’s take a look at you, Sasha,” he said.
She was scratched and bruised but on the whole unharmed. Arthur dabbed ointment onto her scratches. With the children at his side, more or less safe and sound, a tiny flame of hope flickered to life inside him. They’d make it to the heart of the wood. They’d replant the tree, heal the forest, find Charlotte—and go home. Together.
“Right,” Arthur said, with renewed determination. “Let’s get on with it.”
“Finding Mama?” Sasha asked, trying and failing to climb back onto Maurice. Arthur lifted her and the children’s makeshift saddlebags into place, smiling. Her skinny legs splayedwide across the gelding’s back, but she gripped his mane like she’d been born sitting there.
“I hope so,” Arthur said. “Maybe we’ll stumble across her on our way. But we’re going to the heart of the wood to plant Granddad’s acorn.”
He offered Jonas a leg up, but they shook their head and clung to him. He squeezed their hand.
