Marrow Fen's Arc

Chapter 3 of 11

The pale thing between the trunks did not move closer, but Marrow felt the Fen tighten around them. The dog leaned against their leg, shaking. Mr. Echo held the brass device out at arm's length, watching the needle bend deeper in. Kate Bush counted her salt bag by weight in her palm. The bare footprints past the cherry led on, small and clear in the soft dirt. Marrow already knew the ground would swallow them by dusk. "We have to move," Marrow said. "The prints won't hold. And I can't drag both of you fast through this." Kate Bush looked at the trees. Mr. Echo looked at his needle. Neither of them could read a trail. Marrow could, but not while herding two strangers past deadfalls and shifting mud. The dog whined again, ears up, staring past the cherry. Marrow knelt and took the collie's face in both hands. "You came out once. You know the way back." The dog's tail thumped, one beat. Marrow tied a length of twine to the collar and pressed the other end into Kate Bush's hand. "He walks you out. Follow the needle only if he stops. Do not call for me." Kate Bush opened her mouth, then closed it. Mr. Echo nodded once and touched the brass housing. Marrow went in alone, fast, before the prints could fade. They ran low, eyes on the ground, knife loose in their hand. The trail bent around a stand of birch and opened into a hollow. Three children sat there in the dirt. Not children. Marrow saw it as they got close. A boy with white hair, hands empty at his sides. A girl in a nightdress with mud on her feet. A smaller girl, softer at the edges, like fog holding a shape. Behind them stood a boy with dark hair, faintly lit, one arm held tight against his ribs. "You're the scout," the white-haired boy said. Flat. "The prints are ours. Sort of." The girl in the nightdress said, "I found my body. I'm in it now." She lifted a foot. Real dirt fell off it. The dark-haired boy tried to speak and coughed instead. Nothing came out. Marrow crouched, breathing hard. Not the children on the board. Not yet. But something the board had never named. "I can lead you out," Marrow said. "All of you. Now, while I still know the trail." The white-haired boy looked at the smaller girl, who had not spoken. "Her too?" "Her too," Marrow said. He nodded once. "Ollie," he said, quiet, like testing it. Then louder. "Ollie. Fine. Lead." Marrow stood. The trail behind them was already softening at the edges. Marrow found it anyway, and started back, four figures behind them where there had been none. The pale thing in the trees was gone. That was worse.