Patch's Arc

Chapter 6 of 7

The giggling behind them faded into the steam. Patch pulled Bella another ten steps before her knees folded. She slid down the brick wall and sat in the soot with her legs out straight. The pacifier had fallen from its clip and dangled at her chest. Her hands shook. Her breath came in small, wet hitches. "I can't," she said. "I can't, I can't. My legs went stupid." She pressed the heel of her hand into her eye. "Sorry. That's a bad word for legs. They went numb. Same thing." Patch crouched in front of her. The hall stretched on into the dark. He could hear air moving somewhere above — a real vent, pulling up. The surface was up. They had to keep going up. He pulled the brass compass from under his cloak. The needle wobbled, then leaned steady toward the draft ahead. Good air. Not far. "Bella. Look at the needle." She didn't look. She was staring at the wet patch on her diaper and crying without sound. "They send another one," she whispered. "If I sit here. They always send another one." Patch set the sword down. He set the compass down. He took her cold hands in his paws. "Listen. The witch who made me. You know who I mean." Bella's eyes moved to his face. One nod. "She cried for a week straight," Patch said. "Snot on my ear. Tears in my stitching. She said sorry about a hundred times for getting me wet. I didn't care then. I don't care now." He squeezed her fingers. "Wet is not the problem. Sitting is the problem. Get up." She made a noise that was half laugh, half hiccup. "That's a mean pep talk." "Good. Stand." He clipped the pacifier back to her robe. He put it in her mouth himself. Her jaw locked on it. Her breathing slowed. Three breaths. Four. The shaking in her hands dropped a notch. Patch stood and held out a paw. "One step. Then another one. That's the whole plan." Bella took the paw. She got her feet under her. She swayed, caught the wall, and stayed up. "One step," she said around the pacifier. She took it. Then another. Patch walked backward in front of her, compass in one paw, her hand in the other, sword tucked under his arm. The needle held its line. The draft got stronger. Somewhere far above, through brick and pipe, he heard the flat clang of a bell. Bella heard it too. She stopped. "That's my school," she said. The pacifier fell out. She didn't catch it. "That's them. They know where I am now." Patch looked up at the ceiling. The draft on his fur turned colder. The compass needle twitched once, hard, and stuck.