The Mysterious Benedict Society

The children were stunned.

“Away?” Reynie repeated. “You mean off the island?”

Milligan produced four black cloaks — no one saw from where — and held them out. “Put these on and draw them tight. They’ll help conceal you. If we run into trouble, stay close and don’t worry. I’ll die before I let harm come to any of you.”

“Don’t worry?” Sticky said. “Don’t worry? You’re talking about dying and we’re not to worry? What’s happening, Milligan?”

“There’s little time for explanation, Sticky. I can get you to the mainland, but we must make our way to the other side of the island, and it will be slow going.”

“But why are we going?” Kate said.

“Your mission is completed.”

Reynie felt an enormous pressure lift from his shoulders. Completed! That meant he wouldn’t be tested anymore! No more worrying about failing everyone. He could leave the island without ever facing the Whisperer again. Yes, it was time to go: Just thinking of the Whisperer filled him with longing, even made him want to stay. . . .

“Completed?” Kate said. She seemed suspicious. “Does that mean Mr. Benedict has a plan now? He thinks he can stop Mr. Curtain?”

“You mustn’t worry about that, Kate,” said Milligan. “Please put the cloak on.”

Kate tossed the cloak onto the ground. “You didn’t answer my question. Does Mr. Benedict think he can stop Mr. Curtain or not?”

Milligan frowned. “It doesn’t concern you anymore, Kate. The Improvement is much too close. Mr. Benedict wants you away from here, where you can be safe.”

“I’m not budging until I get an answer,” Kate said firmly. “Can Mr. Benedict stop the Improvement or not? Tell us the truth!”

The other children were holding the cloaks in their hands, glancing back and forth from Kate to Milligan.

Milligan looked away over the water. He seemed extremely reluctant to answer. Finally he sighed. “No, children. We have no way to stop it. You’ll have to go into hiding — we all will. We’ll need to keep moving, keep ahead of the Recruiters . . . but Mr. Benedict believes he can keep you safe, and you have my word that I’ll do all I can to protect you. Please, try not to worry. Mr. Benedict will never give up. That much I can assure you. He will work tirelessly, and perhaps in time he can find a way to counteract Mr. Curtain’s messages — to clear all of our minds.”

Kate was having none of it. “What about Constance?” she demanded. “What happens to her when Mr. Curtain boosts the power all the way? She’s already hearing voices, you know!”

Milligan looked sadly at Constance. “I don’t know, child. Nobody does. I’m so sorry — you’re in danger no matter where you go.”

At this, Constance sat down on a rock and covered her face. She seemed smaller than ever now — so small the harbor breeze might catch her up like a scrap of paper and carry her away, carry her into nowhere.

It was then Reynie knew they couldn’t leave.

He shouldn’t have needed Kate to show him, he thought. His desire to save himself had kept him from seeing it at first, but at least he saw it now. He felt it in his bones, and it felt perfectly awful, but there it was: They couldn’t leave. Not just for poor Constance’s sake, but for Mr. Bloomburg, and Milligan, and the Helpers, and all the future people Mr. Curtain intended to brainsweep, not least of whom was dear Miss Perumal herself. Mr. Benedict would never ask it of him, but he must ask it of himself.

“Milligan, please tell Mr. Benedict thank you,” Reynie said. “But I’m staying.”

Kate threw her arms around him. “Oh, I hoped you would say that, Reynie! Because I’m staying, too. We have to, don’t we?”

Sticky seemed ready to cry. “You’re staying? But . . . but . . .” He turned and gazed longingly toward the mainland. He had known they would say this. And he knew they were right.

“Sticky?” said Kate.

“I suppose we don’t have much choice,” Sticky said. “We don’t have much chance, either. But we’re the only one Mr. Benedict has got.”

Milligan tried again, and then again, but the more he pressed the children, the more determined they became. Finally he gave up. “In that case, I’m to give you a message from Mr. Benedict.”

“A message?” Constance said. “Why didn’t you tell us before?”

“Mr. Benedict had a feeling you would choose to stay. ‘That is exactly the kind of children they are,’ he said. He hoped to discourage such a decision and carry you to safety. But if you adamantly refused — and only then — I was to give you the message.”

“So what is it?” Kate asked.

“He said to remind you that every single one of you is essential to the success of the team — that now more than ever, you must rely upon one another in all things.” Milligan took the cloaks back from the children. “What’s more,” he said, tucking the cloaks down the legs of his suit pants, “you must also rely upon me. Whatever develops, I’m here to help you. I’m staying on the island. When the time comes, this is the place to contact me.”

“How do we do that?” Reynie asked.

Milligan pointed back the way they had come. “Not far from here an old drainage culvert empties into the channel. It’s a good marker. To leave me a message, hide it in a dry spot within twenty paces of the culvert, and stack two stones upon it. I’ll check the place often, and meanwhile I’ll keep an eye on you as best I can.” With that,