Small Favors

by Erin A. Craig

  “No,” I gasped, struggling to push myself up. I remembered with far too much clarity what had happened at the last trial held in Amity Falls. I could not let my twin pay for my mistakes. I’d brought these things to our town.

  But even if I was to confess my crime in front of everyone, here and now, I was not certain it would save Sam. This crowd was far too riled to listen to reason’s appeal.

  I needed to go to the source of the discontent. I needed to find the Dark Watchers and make them stop this. It was my brother’s only chance.

  I stood on trembling legs, stumbled to the back of the tent, and grabbed at Merry. “We have to get out of here. We have to get to the farm—now!”

  As if he heard me, Parson Briard cast his gaze toward us with a fiery fury. Hot spots of righteous indignation burned across his cheeks. For just a second our eyes met, and his nose wrinkled into a feral snarl. “The Devil has come to Amity Falls. And Samuel Downing has brought him here.”

  * * *

  “She was there; she was right there in the tent with us,” I cried as Merry, the Fairhopes, and I fled town, racing home. “What are we going to do?”

  “We need to get the little girl and get all of you out of town,” Ephraim said.

  I stumbled to a stop. “Leave? That’s your big plan? I thought you said you were here to fight them? To stop them. If we leave—”

  “We survive.” Ephraim cut me off with a weighted finality. “We survive to fight again another day.”

  “But…what about everyone else? The town, they—”

  “They’re all able to make their own decisions. You owe them nothing, Ellerie.”

  “We can’t leave without Sam—they’re going after him. They think he summoned the Dark Watchers here.”

  Ephraim shook his head in disgust. “They’re not demons waiting to be called upon. That’s not how they work. They just…exist here, in our world. Like water-hounds and krakens, ahools and thunderbirds, shucks and tatzelwurms. Dark Watchers aren’t things to be manipulated or controlled.” He paused, considering. “Unless, of course…”

  “What?” I asked, leaping onto his uncertainty.

  “Unless he somehow knew their names…”

  “Sam didn’t bring them here. He couldn’t have,” I insisted.

  Ephraim nodded. “Of course not. Judging by how far their darkness has spread—to the forest’s creatures, the farm animals, even all of you—they’ve been here for years, watching, waiting.”

  Merry frowned. “You really think they’ve been here that long? Simon said the summoning circle was only a few months old. And the handkerchief—”

  A roar of recognition filled my ears, and I didn’t hear the rest of what Merry said. I’d made that marker in October, long after the men in Jeb McCleary’s supply run had been killed. The wolves, or whatever animal they had begun as, had been tainted well before my bargain with Whitaker.

  Out of the stifling, suffocating haze of the revival tent, I could see that now.

  This was not my fault.

  My blood had not unwittingly brought the Dark Watchers to our town.

  I wanted to sink to the ground as relief poured through me and hollowed out all the places where dread had been. “How…how many of them are there?”

  “According to our records, two made the initial crossing from England, but they’ve increased in number. The Queen. A young girl—”

  “Abigail,” I said unhappily.

  “An older woman and two men.”

  “Five Dark Watchers?” I gasped, tallying them on my fingers.

  A sweat broke across Merry’s brow that had nothing to do with the heat of the day. “There are Dark Watchers who are men?”

  Ephraim nodded as though that should have been obvious.

  “Are you…are you all right, Merry?” Thomas stepped forward to place a hand gently on her back.

  “I thought…You only ever spoke of the Queen—the woman Ellerie and Cyrus saw. And then Judd’s daughter at the revival, she saw the little girl that Sadie has….I just thought they were all women.”

  Thomas and Ephraim exchanged concerned glances.

  “Merry?” I asked.

  “You said…you said they offer to give people things, right?”

  Ephraim waited a beat before responding. “Whatever you want, whatever you long for most.”

  She lowered her head. “Like…a chocolate cake?” Merry murmured, so quiet, I almost didn’t catch it.

  I turned to her, stunned. “Sadie’s birthday. That was you?”

  “He told me there was chocolate powder in Mr. Danforth’s storage room….”

  I placed my hand on her shoulder. “Who did?”

  She squirmed away from my touch. “God.”

  Her morning prayers in the middle of the flower field.

  I remembered her arms outstretched, palms up, reverent and beseeching.

  She’d been alone then, I was sure of it.

  But I’d also thought Abigail was nothing more than pretend.

  Her lips trembled. “I just…I need you to know…I didn’t know. I didn’t…I truly thought…”

  “Merry.” I kept my voice gentle. “What did you…what did you think you were praying for?”

  Her lashes were thick with tears. “At first, all my prayers were for good things—a strong harvest, that Papa wouldn’t be stung, that our garden would do well….I was surprised when he answered back, when I could actually hear him, but the Bible is full of moments when God talks to people. I didn’t think to question it. And…he listened to me. He really did….But then…Sadie wanted that cake so badly…That night when I went out to pray…it just sort of fell out.”

  “You asked for the cake.”

  She nodded, miserable.

  “What did God—what did he say you needed to do?”

  She looked away, guilt clouding her face.

  “You trashed Cyrus’s supply room?”

  “I was only supposed to knock over some of the canisters. But…it was kind of fun, spilling flour and watching all the molasses run everywhere. I didn’t know Mr. Danforth would get so angry—or hurt Mama.” Merry blanched, looking as if she might throw up.

  I wanted to comfort her, wanted to tell her that everything was going to turn out all right, but I couldn’t. There were too many unknowns, too many uncertainties. The world seemed poised on the brink of burning out in madness. I couldn’t guarantee otherwise.

  “We’ll think of how to fix this. Somehow. After we help Sam,” I promised, pressing a kiss into her hair. “Wherever he is.”

  “It’s absurd that the townspeople think that boy is somehow controlling the Dark Watchers,” Ephraim said, bringing us back to the problem at hand.

  “But someone could be, right? You said something about the Dark Watchers’ names,” I murmured. “What—what did you mean?”

  Thomas jumped in. “It’s one of Father’s theories….The creatures the Brotherhood hunts are very much flesh and blood, but over time they’ve taken on almost a supernatural status. Stories and songs are written about them, myths and legends. Even children’s fairy tales, warning of what lurks in the night—”

  “Every story contains some fragment of truth,” Ephraim cut in. “You need to glean it from the inflated hyperbole.” He fumbled for his glasses but didn’t remove them. “Across Europe, folktales are littered with entities able to grant the dearest wishes of people’s hearts, in exchange for a little favor. When the bargains inevitably go wrong, the heroes must learn the creatures’ names to break them. That’s the grain of truth. Their true names hold great sway. If you know it, you control them.”

  “But you do, don’t you? Know the Dark Watchers’ names?” I glanced between the two men. “Right?”

  Thomas shrugged helplessly. “They’ve had many monikers over th
e years. The All-Seeing, the Unblinking. The name ‘Dark Watchers’ is just something Father and I made up.”

  I froze as his words washed over me. Realization sparked, a bit of steel striking flint. The sparks grew, kindling into a fire and driving back the darkness in my mind until I could see everything, so clearly.

  “Because things…important things…have names,” I whispered, balling my hands into fists as the world spun.

  I’d said that to Whitaker before.

  There’s a power in names, don’t you think? Once your name is given away, you can’t help but be pulled along by those who have it.

  My throat clenched, suddenly too dry, too thick.

  Whitaker hadn’t brought the Dark Watchers to Amity Falls.

  Whitaker was a Dark Watcher.

  I wanted to sink to my knees, the truth hitting me like a battering ram.

  He was one of those things. One of the monsters.

  It wasn’t possible.

  He was Whitaker.

  My Whitaker.

  The boy I’d come to trust and care for.

  The boy I’d fallen in love with.

  But deep inside, I knew.

  There were too many moments that didn’t make sense. Too many times he’d evaded telling me the whole story.

  Because the full truth would have damned him.

  “Sadie,” I murmured.

  She was back at the house, all alone, with him.

  “We…we have to get going. Right now.”

  I turned and raced down the road. The others followed, gasping, but I couldn’t slow down for them. I had to get to my little sister.

  Dust kicked up behind me. It was so hot. So dry. Our land was dying, tainted by the presence of the Dark Watchers. Tainted by him. Whitaker. His betrayal stung worse than a rattler’s bite.

  How could he have lied so easily?

  How could I not have guessed?

  As I rounded the bend and our farmhouse came into view, I wanted to cry in relief.

  Sadie was there, sitting on the porch and lazily kicking herself back and forth in a rocking chair.

  Whitaker sat on the steps nearby, fanning his face with his hat.

  He stood as he saw our return, but froze as he caught sight of me. Recognition flooded over his face, and without wasting a moment, he turned and disappeared around the side of house, heading for the forest even as Sadie protested.

  I looked back. “Ephraim, you must have some idea—what are their names?”

  “Their names?” he panted, face red and breath wheezy. “I don’t truly know. We’d hoped to learn more here—we’d hoped….There’s still time to leave all this….We can start again elsewhere.”

  I shook my head, my mind made up. “I’m not running from them. This has to end. Now.”

  “Ellerie, you can’t possibly mean to—”

  “Merry, watch after Sadie. Stay here and make sure all the windows and doors are shut and barred tight. If anyone from town comes looking for Sam…” I couldn’t complete that horrible thought. “Ephraim, Thomas…keep them safe. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Ellerie, wait!” Merry cried after me, but I was already gone.

  “Rule Number Seven: Enter not the forest deep. Beyond the Bells, the dark fiends keep.”

  Without a trace of light or luck, I plunged into the pines.

  He would find me; I was certain of it.

  Through the trees, through the Bells. Their pealing chimes filled the air, marking my passage, as telling as a stain of ink across a page.

  And suddenly he was there before me, in the middle of a small clearing at the edge of the Bells.

  Whitaker.

  Not Whitaker.

  Not even the person I’d assumed was Whitaker.

  Not even a person, truly.

  Was he?

  Despite everything I knew, I wanted to race to him.

  He didn’t look like I’d thought they would. He had no claws or sharp teeth. His eyes were warm and kind and most decidedly not silver. Doubt curled through my limbs as they sought to betray me.

  What if I was wrong?

  As the pine trees gave way to tall grasses and wild brambles, I paused.

  “Ellerie.”

  His tone was too casual. Too practiced. He knew I knew. His voice betrayed everything.

  He ran his tongue over the edge of his teeth, his eyes sharp and appraising. “You know.” I nodded. He pressed his lips together, his expression flat. “What gave it away?”

  “The summoning circle at the Danforths’ farm.”

  Every fiber inside me screamed for him to deny it. But he remained still.

  “That wasn’t anything more than a campfire.”

  I swayed back and forth. “It was enough to panic everyone in town.”

  “Then it served its purpose, I suppose.”

  “That was my marker, wasn’t it?”

  His head dipped once.

  “How did you get Sam’s handkerchief?”

  He shrugged. “It wasn’t hard. Just a small favor from Trinity Brewster while she visited Sadie. She wanted a new set of jacks.” He brushed his thumb over the pads of his fingers, a small twitch, like the tail of a cat. “If it makes a difference to you, I had it long before we ever met.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  His lips twisted. “No. I suppose not.”

  “How…how could you?” He said nothing. “The whole town is after Sam. They think he brought you here—summoned the devil to make all these terrible things happen.”

  His eyes stayed steadily on mine, motionless.

  “They’ll take him to the Gallows. Is that what you want?”

  “I want…” His gaze faltered. “What I want is complicated.” He took an agitated step forward as if the distance between us pained him. “I did come to this valley wanting…” He looked away, guilt ingrained in his face. “But now…I’d never hurt you. Or your family.”

  My family.

  I pictured Sadie and Merry at the farm, keeping watch at the windows.

  I pictured Sam hiding in a barn, or a shed, or a cave by the Greenswold, and prayed no one had found him yet.

  I pictured…

  My shoulders stiffened as a startling chill flooded me.

  “Mama and Papa.”

  Their names escaped in a soft, breathless hiss. Fear stabbed at my core, gutting me with ruthless efficiency as I pictured the last moment I’d seen them, tucked away in the back of the wagon together, Whitaker at the reins. He’d taken them into the forest and then…what?

  “They’re dead, aren’t they? You didn’t really take them to the city. You never left the Falls.”

  He reached out, stopping himself before he touched me. “You know I did.”

  “I don’t.”

  “I brought them there. I brought you that fabric.”

  “Fabric you stole from Letitia Briard. Or had some other stupid fool steal for you. For a favor,” I spat.

  He drew his eyebrows together, wounded. “What? No. Ellerie. No. How could you ever—”

  “What else am I to think? You ferried them up the side of the mountain out of the goodness of your heart?”

  “I did it because I lo—”

  “Don’t say it!” I snapped, cutting him off. “Don’t ever say that again.”

  “But it’s true.”

  “It can’t be. You’re lying. To me or to yourself. It doesn’t matter. I’m through believing anything you say.”

  I looked away, fighting the sudden urge to cry. This was too much. This was all too much.

  He took the last step, closing the gap between us, and grabbed my elbows. He twisted his grip, trying to force me to meet his gaze.

  “I didn’t kill your parents. Look
at me! Am I lying now?”

  I struggled against his grasp. “I don’t know.”

  “You do,” he growled, tipping my chin up.

  My treacherous fingers ached to curl around his shoulders, sink into their security, and pull him down to my lips. I dropped my hands to my sides before they could carry out their betrayal. I didn’t want to look at him. I didn’t want to look and see the face I knew so well, the face I’d grown to care for, worn like a mask over the blank vacancy of a stranger.

  But his insistence was heavy, his hold firm. I resisted as long as I could but finally gave in. When he stared down at me, his face open and clear, it was Whitaker I saw. Not a monster, just a man.

  “You’re not lying.”

  He loosened his grip, running his fingers down my arms. They touched my wrists gently, pleading.

  “Good. That’s good.”

  “But it doesn’t change anything,” I added hastily, dashing any chance he might have had for hope. “You…you’re one of them.”

  “I am.”

  “You lied about that.”

  “I didn’t lie. I just never said the truth. There’s a difference in that.”

  “Is there?”

  His eyes fell. I’d hurt him, and I knew I needed to act fast, act now, while guilt twisted at him, curling and coiling like a poisonous snake.

  “I need your help.”

  “I can get you out of the Falls,” he promised, spots of color burning his cheeks earnestly. “Your sisters too. Before…before everything falls apart.”

  “Everything has fallen apart. But I think I know how to stop it.” I touched his cheek. “Tell me her name.”

  His face fell into studied confusion. “Whose?”

  “You know who I’m talking about. The woman. Your leader, your Queen. Whatever you call her…I need her name.”

  “I can’t give that to you, Ellerie.”

  “You can.”

  He shook his head. “I want to help you—you’ve no idea how much I want to, especially…” He swallowed. “It’s my fault we’re here in the first place. If I hadn’t…If I hadn’t seen you…none of this would have happened.”