The Mysterious Benedict Society and the Perilous Journey

She protested loudly — much too loudly, in fact, as her hearing had been affected by the explosion. She was a bit out of her head, too, but it was clear enough that she believed you to be in danger, and that she’d gone looking for you in the tunnel only to find herself cut off (and quite battered by rocks) when the entrance blew. She insisted we leave her and go find you children. But this would have contradicted Milligan’s instructions, and we dared not risk upsetting his plans even if Number Two’s injuries hadn’t required immediate attention. She’s safely bandaged up now, though, and has fully recovered her senses. It was her idea to send Madge with a note, and — now she tells me I’m taking too long, so let me hurry on.

We’re aboard the Shortcut, a few miles out to sea. Our plan was to return immediately to the forest, but we’ve run into difficulty. The skiff’s motor was damaged on shoals as we left the bay — there was a horribly tricky tide — and the skiff is now quite noisy and painfully slow. We worry that using it might endanger you by calling attention to the bay. Milligan advised that we must be stealthy above all else. Is this still the case? Send word, Kate, and let us know what we should do!

Things to consider: Captain Noland, per Milligan’s directions, contacted the Royal Navy at dawn (mere minutes ago as I write) but their patrol boats may not arrive for some time. The captain can’t bring the Shortcut too close to the island for fear of grounding her, but in the skiff we can reach the bay shore in two hours at most. We’ll await you there or come for you as you think best — just tell us where to look!

We’re counting on Madge to find you with her sharp eyes. When you send her back, just say “frog food” and she’ll fly straight to me — I’ve been feeding her those steak bits ever since we took her aboard. Do hurry, Kate, and send your reply!

Cannonball (Joe Shooter)

The moment he finished reading, Reynie began to pace. What he really felt like doing was curling into a ball. The letter should have encouraged him, but under the circumstances it was heartbreaking. If they sent Madge right away with a reply, and if everything went exactly as hoped, the slow and noisy skiff would reach the bay just as the children arrived. But Kate was right — they would almost certainly be spotted crossing that rocky plain; the Salamander, then, would be hot on their trail, and Milligan had said the Salamander was very fast on land and water both. Even if they made it to the skiff . . . well, a damaged skiff would be easy pickings. They would be snatched up by Mr. Curtain’s crew long before they reached the Shortcut.

The others were all groaning now, having slowly come to understand what had distressed Reynie right away: there was no way out of this.

“At least Number Two is safe,” said Sticky gloomily. “That’s something, anyway.”

The others nodded but said nothing. They were all relieved Number Two was safe. Her good news was their bad news, though, for Mr. Curtain and his Ten Men, not finding her in the western woodland, would continue to circle the island. That made it even more likely the children would be intercepted before they reached the bay.

Reynie glanced down at Mr. Benedict’s sleeping face, frowned, and went back to pacing.

“Maybe we should try to hide,” said Constance. “Those patrol boats will come eventually, right? Maybe they’ll get here in time to save us.”

“We’d have to be awfully lucky,” said Kate. “I say we run for it and hope for the best. Milligan’s probably in the forest, remember. If we can just get to him, he can help us.”

Sticky was feverishly polishing his spectacles. “What do you think, Reynie? Should we run for it or hide?”

Reynie gritted his teeth. What did he think? It would be hard to hide everyone from the Ten Men for long. And even if the patrol boats arrived soon and sent their crews ashore, Reynie doubted their chances against Mr. Curtain’s group of nasties, especially since the Ten Men had the Salamander. But running? Reynie’s mind returned to the skiff. Noisy, Cannonball had said — so they couldn’t even hope to avoid detection in the heavy gray mist. And unlike Kate, Reynie didn’t count on Milligan’s being able to help them. No, hiding seemed the better option, although it was a nearly hopeless one, and although . . .

Reynie paused in his pacing. He did see one other option. He had seen it from the very beginning, in fact, but had kept shoving it aside. If it worked, it was their best chance of escape. But if it didn’t, all would be lost — and for it to work Reynie must depend upon something he felt could not be depended upon.

“Reynie?” Kate prompted. “What do you say?”

Reynie stared at the sleeping figure of Mr. Benedict. They had risked life and limb for him, had come to the ends of the earth to save him. If Mr. Benedict were awake right now, what would he have Reynie do? He felt a tugging at his sleeve. Constance was gazing up into his face.

“You should trust him,” she said.

“Trust him?” Kate repeated. “Trust who? Reynie, what’s she talking about?”

Reynie returned Constance’s gaze. He knew she was right. He knew what Mr. Benedict would have him do. The question was whether he had the courage to do it.

“Reynie?”

“Give me a pen and paper,” said Reynie, making up his mind. “I know what we need to do!”

What Shines in Darkness

Descending the mountain with the sledge was the most arduous physical challenge either of the boys had ever attempted, and if not for Kate they never would have succeeded. Her excellent eyes, her sense of balance, her gauge of distance and slope — to say nothing of her unusual strength — saved the boys from deadly tumbles more than once. And all the while the sledge had to be kept aright to spare Mr. Benedict and Constance, who struggled mightily to keep him on the sledge without falling off herself. Halfway down the mountain Reynie and Sticky were already trembling and aching from their exertions — and they were pulling downhill.

By the time they reached level ground even Kate was exhausted. Despite the cooling mist and the unfailing wind, her face radiated heat, and her leg muscles and lungs burned from their unusual strain. Gazing out through the mist across that wide rocky plain, remembering how hard crossing it had been just the night before, Kate’s shoulders drooped. She doubted the boys could make it without a long rest — probably several long rests — and there was no way she could pull the sledge alone. Still, the crossing must be attempted. She looked at Reynie and Sticky, both of them gasping and doubled over.

“We can’t rest long,” she said apologetically. “A minute or two, and then —”