Orin Wanderwood's Arc

Chapter 25 of 26

Rose took Lily down the path toward the village. Orin watched them go. His plum twig was gone, but the tree stood behind him, real. He had one true thing. He did not have a home yet. Marrow said they should walk into Copsefire and ask after a low window and an orange tree. Someone there had to remember. They went at midmorning. The road was muddy. Kate stayed at the pine chalet to rest. Marrow walked on Orin's left with the dog at her heel. The ghost girl trailed behind, quiet. Copsefire was awake. Two women at the well stopped talking when Orin passed. A man with a bucket set it down and stared. Orin's face had been on the notice for three years. The notice was struck, but the face was not forgotten. "Keep moving," Marrow said. An old woman on a stoop called out. "Wanderwood boy. That's the Wanderwood boy come back." Orin stopped. "You know my name." "I know the name." She squinted. "Your mother had a low window. Sunrise side. Orange tree by the step. Burned down the year they took you. South of the mill." Orin's breath caught. "Who took me." The woman opened her mouth. Then she looked past his shoulder and shut it. She stood up and went inside. The door latched. Marrow's hand went to her knife. "Someone doesn't want her talking." A boy in a gray sweater stepped out from the alley beside the stoop. He was not a boy. He was pale at the edges, and the dog did not react to him. Ollie. "You need to leave the road," Ollie said. "Now." "Why." "Man behind the smithy has a crossbow. He's been waiting since dawn. Word went out you were coming." Marrow already had Orin's sleeve. They cut between two sheds and came out in a small meadow tufted with wildflowers behind the last house. Orin dropped to a crouch in the grass. A bolt hit the shed wall where his shoulder had been. "Who is he," Orin whispered. "He carried you out that night," Ollie said. "He was paid to. He's been paid since to keep it quiet." "His name." Ollie's mouth went flat. "I don't know his name. I know his boots. I know he lives two streets from the church. I know he won't stop." Boots came around the shed. Marrow whistled once. The dog broke left, snarling. The boots turned after the dog. Orin and Marrow ran through the meadow into the trees. They stopped only when the village was out of sight. Orin sat down hard in the wet grass. His hands were shaking. "South of the mill," he said. "Orange tree. Burned." "You have a place now," Marrow said. "And a man who wants you dead for asking." Orin nodded. He had a direction. He had a hunter. The road home was shorter and worse than yesterday.