Hollow City: The Second Novel of Miss Peregrine's Peculiar Children

much easier to cooperate!” He shrugged, looked back at us. “But pride, venal pride, got the better of you. And to think, all this time we could’ve been working together toward a common good!”

“Working together?” said Emma. “You hunted us! Sent monsters to kill us!”

Damn it, I thought. Keep quiet.

Mr. White made a sad puppy-dog face. “Monsters?” he said.

“That hurts. That’s me you’re talking about, you know! Me and all my men here, before we evolved. I’ll try not to take your slight personally, though. The adolescent phase is rarely attractive, whatever the species.” He clapped his hands sharply, which made me jump.

“Now then, down to business!”

He raked us with a slow, icy stare, as if scanning our ranks for weakness. Which of us would crack first? Which would actually tell him the truth about where Miss Peregrine was?

Mr. White zeroed in on Horace. He’d recovered from his faint but was still on the floor, crouched and shaking. Mr. White took a decisive step toward him. Horace flinched at the click of his boots.

“Stand up, boy.”

Horace didn’t move.

“Someone get him up.”

A soldier yanked Horace up roughly by his arm. Horace cowered before Mr. White, his eyes on the floor.

“What’s your name, boy?”

“Huh-huh-Horace …”

“Well, Huh-Horace, you seem like someone with abundant common sense. So I’ll let you choose.”

Horace raised his head slightly. “Choose …?”

Mr. White unsheathed the knife from his belt and pointed it at the Gypsies. “Which of these men to kill first. Unless, of course, you’d like to tell me where your ymbryne is. Then no one has to die.”

Horace squeezed his eyes shut, as if he could simply wish himself away from here.

“Or,” Mr. White said, “if you’d rather not choose one of them, I’d be happy to choose one of you. Would you rather do that?”

“No!”

“Then tell me!” Mr. White thundered, his lips snarling back to reveal gleaming