Tommy stood there now, unaided and without hope. Every second felt longer when he waited for his own inevitable death he prayed would be quick. His legs couldn’t carry him anymore. Even now he wished he had kept running instead of turning back to see the fearful sight.
Bored with the deadly game of hide and seek, both assassins marched past the lifeless body of Jacob O’Malley and quickened their pace to close in on their helpless target.
16
Into the Woods
She was beautiful, graceful, and courageous, but above all, she was fast. Poppy galloped past the monsters too quickly for them to catch her and headed directly toward Tommy. The heavily armored assassin grasped at the tip of her long soft tail, only to grapple at air, unable to touch one strand of her fine hair.
Tommy shed tears of joy and showed a huge smile of relief. “I knew you wouldn’t leave, girl,” he called out to her, laughing as he used his last ounce of energy to climb up onto the saddle on her back. The glossy auburn animal bolted her way into the forests ahead, leaving the stunned and bewildered assassins behind her.
Poppy’s hooves showed no sign of slowing down. Tommy was almost asleep when they reached the forest’s depth. The monstrous assassins took flight and soared through the night sky, with their ears attentive, following every sound of Poppy’s hooves. Tommy shook at the threatening howls of the flying assassins that kept him awake.
Amidst the trees, the forest seemed like another world; one Tommy didn’t fear. So long as he was sheltered from sight, and was far from the nightmarish hunters he’d encountered, he would have settled for anywhere, including the dismal Gatesville. Though they had made good distance, he still feared the monsters would soon catch up. Poppy eventually slowed her pace to stop at a small puddle in the heart of the forest. Tommy lightly tapped her back end to get her moving again, but Poppy stood firm, unwilling to move one more inch.
“Please girl,” he said quietly, afraid the airborne assassins might hear him.
Every rapid and random sound from the forest unnerved the two survivors. The hooting of an owl startled him enough to climb off the horse and use her as cover. Peering over the saddle into the woods ahead, Tommy tiptoed around to the front of her.
“Stay,” he whispered to the horse before he hid behind one of the trees, patiently waiting for any sign of his friends.
The forest was moldy and moist. Lime scale and moss attached itself to his hands after he held onto the sticky bark. Heavy clumps of mud covered his shoes and clothes, making him dirty and miserable.
Now that Poppy was quite happy to rest at this spot and drink at the small pond of water, Tommy had no choice but to wait for her. Perhaps it was for the best, for they had managed to evade their deadly pursuers, and he and the horse both needed to recover their strength.
But their sense of security was short lived. Tommy caught a fleeting glimpse of the hairy assassin’s cloak, flying high past the forest’s gap. Fortunately for Tommy, the creature had flown too fast to notice Poppy lingering in the center of the opening. Tommy backed further into the thicket.
He thought he was safe where he loitered, until the silence of the forest was abruptly broken by a crackling noise. The snapping of small branches and twigs became clearer with every step. Even Poppy took notice, raising her head from the pond. The clatter was of human footsteps walking in single file around the circular grove where Poppy had made her temporary pit stop.
Much to Tommy’s surprise, the horse wasn’t the slightest bit alarmed, even though she seemed curious about the phantom noises. He stood firmly behind the large tree, making sure that his whole body was out of sight when he whispered and motioned to the horse to follow him into the shadows.
Ignoring him, Poppy trotted a little bit forward, tilting her long face to sniff through the air at the strong scent she picked up before lifting her tail in greeting to the new arrivals.
Tommy looked on, hidden by the dark shadows of the trees when the two figures walked into the opening. Sebastian was the first to walk into the grove. His hair was tattered by leaves and dust. Splatter marks of wet mud covered the bottom half of his ruined dinner suit, and his sizeable glasses were cracked and bent to one side. Benjamin stepped out of the shade shortly after. His face was covered in dirt patches, and his clothes were creased and shaggy.
As Tommy lurked in the shade, he noticed that the two of them were calling Peter’s name, but there was no sign of the boy behind them.
“Look! It’s my horse. I wonder what she’s doing here?” Benjamin whispered back excitably to Sebastian while they carefully approached the young steed.
Without wanting to risk reentering the uncovered grove, Tommy crept from tree to tree, camouflaged by the darkness, and kept a close watch on the dangerous skies above. He waited patiently for Benjamin and Sebastian to approach the black path next to the tree he’d lingered behind. Taking one slow step, Tommy snuck onto the pathway, ultimately frightening the bewildered pair. The scare had been unintentional, causing loud screams from Benjamin and Sebastian to boom throughout the woods like a welcoming beacon to their assassins.
“Shut up! Shut up!” Tommy rasped, running toward them. His shadowed figure caused Benjamin and Sebastian to scream for their lives even more. But before he could even reveal himself in the light, Tommy found himself forced to his knees by an eight-inch dagger, lightly stroking his throat. Confused and terrified, he started to wail.
“I surrender, don’t kill me!”
Recognizing Tommy’s voice, Peter lowered his weapon and offered to help the shocked lad to his feet. Tommy rejected Peter’s hand and brushed the leaves and dirt from his knees as he tried to retain what dignity he had left in front of his peers.
“What is wrong with you?” Tommy shouted at Peter, forgetting momentarily about the assassins that scouted above.
“Quiet!” Peter snapped as he kept his gaze fixed toward the night sky.
“How did you esc—.” Sebastian started, but was cut off by Tommy’s sudden spark of bravado.
“I fought the savage beasts off. No thanks to you three.”
“Weren’t you afraid?” Sebastian asked suspiciously at Tommy’s exaggerated story.
“Me? Afraid?” Tommy laughed nervously. “I stood up to them, unlike you cowards. But two against one isn’t fair, so I had to outsmart ‘em and that’s when good ‘ol Pops came in. We outran them together, didn’t we, girl?” He petted the shiny horse on the head.
The horse turned her head and walked away from him, as if she could tell Tommy was lying.
“Where are Jacob and Luther?” Benjamin asked worriedly. Tommy finally stopped boasting when he heard Benjamin mention the names of his friends who had risked their lives to save him. For once, Tommy had nothing to say and shook his head.
“We must keep quiet. We’re not out of the woods yet,” Peter reminded them as he led them deeper along the black path beside Poppy.
“I can clearly see that,” Sebastian sighed, stepping over logs and ducking a few branches.
Tommy lagged further behind the group once they found themselves in a spacious part of the forest where an old bridge, covered in moss and fungi, lay a few feet ahead.
“Nearly there,” promised Peter. The group quietly crossed over the small bridge, observing the area around them anxiously. The moonlight singled each one of them out like a stage spotlight. Poppy suddenly stalled, refusing to go any further, which unsettled the group further. Benjamin and Tommy were busy studying the railway tracks they’d discovered ahead of them. The tracks revealed an abandoned old northern line to Birmingham, which ran through the forest. Peter took a few steps ahead of them, glancing in the opposite direction.
“What is it?” Benjamin asked.
“We’ve been followed. Quick! Gather round me. We will have to do this here,” Peter insisted, lifting a handful of what looked like purple seeds from his side pocket.
“Do what, exactly?” Sebastian asked. Then
a flickering light caught the corner of his glasses. Sebastian looked behind the group and caught sight of a horse carriage in the distance, followed closely by a line of people who called out the names of the three boys Peter had taken this far. Sebastian’s eyes grew almost to the size of the rims on his glasses when the mob’s torches drew closer.
“They’ve found us!” Sebastian cried out to the other three.
“Who are they?” asked Tommy, staring at the orangey glow that lit up the black pathway.
“What is that?” Benjamin whispered to Peter, with an anxious gulp as the multiple dark figures came into full view.
17
The Gateway
The boys were astonished when Peter wouldn’t run this time. “Leg it!” Tommy instructed Benjamin and Sebastian, ignoring Peter’s motion to stay put.
Bolting in several directions, each boy left Peter to stand alone on the bridge holding Poppy. Benjamin picked a thick dark tree to hide behind. Tommy crawled inside a fallen log furthest from the bridge.
Choosing the quickest option and most subtle hiding spot, Sebastian crawled under the bridge itself.
“Spread out, we’ll have a better chance at finding them if they are in here,” echoed a policeman. A mob member accidentally dropped their torch down the side of the bridge, causing Sebastian to flinch when it landed inches away from him.
Sebastian stayed well hidden under the bridge and watched a group of men with their torches separate across the woodland like human fireflies.
Tommy could feel his beating heart pulse through his arms as he lay flat on his stomach inside the damp and smelly log. He could only see the soil of the ground through the hole he had climbed in from. He felt the movements of creepy crawlies inside the log the moment several men treaded over it.
Tommy remained like a statue until the sound of feet faded. His relief was brief. Sudden vibrations trembled beneath his body. Tommy knew the sounds that drew near were of a lonesome soul. Not human. Each footstep haunted him. Then, silence.
Out of the blue, the assassin’s massive foot slammed down a few inches from his face, directly in front of the hole in the log. They had landed. Tommy covered his mouth to keep himself from breathing too loudly the instant he saw it. The reptilian foot had razor-sharp nails protruding out of each toe, like an eagle. Its nails were almost the size of Tommy’s hands and its massive flat foot was bigger than his head and strong enough to crush it.
After a few seconds of lingering and sniffing out the residue of torch smoke around it, the sharp-toothed assassin took flight. Tommy was frozen stiff and wouldn’t have been able to move a muscle if it were not for the hand that punched through the bark to grab at his neck.
Several policemen brushed past Benjamin, carelessly overlooking the cowering child that switched trees. He’d caught a glimpse of a lonesome figure that lagged behind, cursing and mumbling to himself in a breathless state. Benjamin couldn’t help but wheeze after his eyes caught a sneak glimpse of Mr. Jennings’ feet positioned directly behind the tree that covered him.
Without hesitating, Benjamin made a dash to hide behind two trees in front of him. Mr. Jennings reached around the tree with a clawing hand, only to strike his filthy nails into the moss-covered wood before he left to regroup with the police. Now that the creepy principal was out of his sight, Benjamin carefully sneaked his way back to the bridge. He was almost there when he became startled by the gust of wind from a hurdling torch. There was no pain at first contact, for the middle of the stick was light and damp, splitting in two across his back.
Benjamin screamed in alarm, alerting everyone throughout the forest, including the assassins. He grabbed a large, damp leaf from the forest ground to put the orange sparks out, when out of nowhere, Mr. Jennings lunged at him from the top of the hill.
Benjamin darted downward, slipping and sliding his way through the trees until he gained as much distance from the horrid man as he could.
“Help!” Benjamin yelled out to his hidden friends.
Sebastian was the first to react, crawling out from under the bridge to greet him.
The mob charged toward the bridge from different directions.
“Should we hide again?” Sebastian asked, unsure of what to do next.
“Not this time,” Peter answered, arriving behind them with Tommy and leading Poppy by the reins.
“Jennings is here!” Benjamin cried to Tommy.
“Stand back,” said Peter. Guided by what looked like a real fairy that circled him in flickering light, he sprinkled a single line of purple seeds onto the moss in the middle of the bridge.
“Is that…a firefly?” Sebastian whispered to Benjamin and Tommy. Just then a screaming voice instantly drained his face of color.
“Sebastian Cain!” a woman cried in the distance, past a huge line of torches.
“Oh no! It’s them,” Sebastian cried. “My parents.” He grabbed onto Peter’s collar in a desperate plea for mercy. “You said you would take me away from them, you swore.”
Peter rested his hand on his shoulder. “I’m about to, Sebastian,” came his reassuring reply. Poppy neighed hysterically, lifting her legs in fright. Benjamin tried to hold the reins but it was no good; the horse eventually gave into her fear of the approaching fire and galloped away.
“Poppy!” Benjamin called after her. It was too late. His beloved friend had vanished into the forest.
“Benjamin! No!” Peter called. “You can’t go after her…not this time. She’ll be safe.” Peter stood firm. The pale, white-haired boy now appeared more confident and in control than all three of his peers, who were losing hope fast.
The sound of the mob grew louder, sending their noise toward the listening skies.
“There they are!” yelled another.
“Sebastian Cain! You will pay dearly for this, boy,” one man shouted from the crowd. It was none other than Viktor, followed closely by his vindictive wife Greta.
“My runaway pupils!” screamed the all too familiar and horrid voice of Mr. Jennings, pointing a bony finger at them.
“Those flying things will surely hear us now,” said Tommy, gawking up at the night sky. Just then Viktor approached the bridge accompanied by a policeman, and Peter motioned for the boys to gather behind him.
“Don’t be alarmed, young Sirs, we’re here to help,” the policeman said, taking small steps toward them. Viktor rudely pushed the officer aside, trudging across the middle of the bridge, determined to get ahold of Sebastian.
“Sebastian, come here,” he bellowed in his thick Russian accent, spitting out of rage.
“Stay put,” Peter commanded to the three boys before he crossed along the bridge to meet the imperious man.
“Move aside, you little waif,” Viktor barked for the whole mob to hear.
Peter confidently stood his ground, blocking the man’s pathway.
“How dare you defy your elder, maggot!” Viktor yelled, taking another step toward Sebastian.
Peter took out his dagger and pointed it at Viktor. The three boys stood in pure disbelief while the angry mob began shouting and banging their sticks.
In that intense moment, devilish screeches from the assassins echoed down through the trees and silenced the entire mob below, making everyone look to the skies.
“This isn’t for you to see, but you left me no choice,” Peter called back at the mob. In one straight line he spread another row of seeds onto the stone bridge and over the moss that grew on it.
The ground shook and the stone cracked, making way for weeds that started to rapidly grow. A great tree followed through the weeds. It shot up in seconds, tearing through the bridge’s rocky surface and sending shockwaves through the forest. The tree’s long, heavy branches ripped the bridge in half, separating the children from the mob.
“What on earth is this?” shouted Greta.
“Witchery!” Viktor replied, addressing the mob.
“They are the devil’s chi
ldren!” Mr. Jennings screamed hysterically, causing instant panic amongst the crowd.
“Keep back!” Peter yelled as the tree emerged beside him. Soon there wasn’t much left on Peter’s side of the bridge but a mound of broken blocks of brick and soil.
The top of the magic oak tree sprouted past the tallest tree in the forest, presenting itself to the assassins amidst the skies. Dark clouds formed and wild winds picked up, covering the crowd in dust and dead leaves.
Tommy noticed the persistent and distinctive odor first. The stench filtered through the heavens prior to their appearance. The first assassin appeared from the woodlands behind the crowd. It had used its dark magick to take on its previous disguise. No one seemed to question the odd and sudden arrival of the police Inspector.
“Inspector, thank goodness, we’ve been trying to find you since that disaster at the Royal Opera House,” Mr. Jennings cried out, almost leaping for joy at the villain’s return.
“My wife and I will be taking your entire department to court for this, Inspector,” Viktor snapped. “You’ve damaged our business reputation.”
Keeping his back to them, the Inspector calmly crossed what was left of the bridge, rudely ignoring the mob. He leaned to one side in front of the magic tree to get a glimpse of the three runaways huddled behind it.
“We meet again.” The Inspector smiled, pointing his leather-gloved hand to Tommy when Peter swiftly blocked the Inspector’s view.
“Bravo. You made it this far. But enough games. Hand them over,” he added casually.
Peter shook his head in silent disagreement.
“Think of how many lives you can save in the long run, if you would but spare these three to me now. There doesn’t have to be a war over this. There’s been too many of those already. Say, why don’t we end this one, before it begins?”
The Three Thorns Page 11
