FOURTEEN
Tinn and Cole did not immediately follow the adults up the dusty street to the Roberson Hills. The forest and the town nestled into each other like puzzle pieces along that road, the route weaving in and out, following a path older than Endsborough itself. It was an old loggers’ road that dated back to the days when the town had been little more than an outpost and the mill had still been under construction.
“I have an idea,” said Tinn. “But I’m pretty sure it’s a bad one.”
“Sounds about right,” said Cole. “Bad ideas are kind of what we do. Usually my bad ideas, though, so I guess it’s your turn. What are you thinking?”
“I think we’ll get there faster if we cut through the forest,” said Tinn. “The Roberson Hills are pretty much straight north. The road goes way over to the west and then circles back, so if we cut straight up while they follow the road, then we can get there before everybody else.”
“I’m in,” said Cole. He took a deep breath. “Let’s go into the Wild Wood. Eyes out for giants. And no getting captured by shadows or anything this time. Ready?”
“Ready.”
“Ready,” said a third voice, slightly breathlessly, from behind them.
Cole and Tinn turned.
Evie was wearing a sturdy plaid dress, a pair of oversized work boots, and an eager expression. A set of plain brown journals bounced at her hip on a book strap.
“Oh. I don’t know if—” Tinn began.
“I’m coming with you,” said Evie. “Something out there attacked my dad, and I’m going to see what it was for myself. I’ve been training for this forever.”
“You’ve been training for . . . giants?” said Cole.
“I’ve got a whole section on giants.” Evie patted her journals.
Cole and Tinn exchanged glances.
“Don’t leave me out. My dad told me to stay with Uncle Jim, and then Uncle Jim told me to go stay with my dad, and so for the first time ever, nobody is here to tell me I can’t. I might not get another chance like this one. Please.”
“We’re kinda in a hurry,” said Cole.
“Great, then we’d better get going.” Evie held tight to her book strap with both hands and marched between them into the forest.
The thing about roads—even winding ones—is that they are designed for traveling. The thing about forests is that they are not. Twenty minutes later, the children were still making their way through the merciless Wild Wood. Twice they reached an impasse and had to double back to find another way around.
“Exploring the unexplored forest,” Cole grunted, “was a lot easier when we had a map and there was a trail.”
“Are you doing okay?” Tinn asked, helping pull Evie over a rock nearly as tall as she was. “We can stop for a rest if you need.”
“I’m fine,” Evie said, but Tinn could see her wince as her feet landed on the forest floor.
“I’m pretty sure we should have gotten there by now,” said Cole. He peered into the forest ahead. It showed no signs of thinning. “This bad idea of yours might have actually been a bad idea.”
“Are we lost?” said Evie.
“No,” said Tinn. “We’re not lost.”
“We might be a little bit lost,” admitted Cole.
“Well, of course we’re a little bit lost,” said Tinn. “We’re on an adventure.”
A bird screeched from somewhere nearby, and the branches beside them shook and then fell still. The forest grew quiet.
“Is there . . . is there something in that tree?” Evie whispered.
“No,” said something in the tree.
Evie froze. Tinn froze. Cole froze.
The tree, being a tree, remained more or less frozen.
“Gotcha! It’s me!” Fable stuck her head out from behind the trunk and laughed. She swung gracefully to a lower branch and then to the forest floor with a soft thump.
“Fable!” said Evie.
“Hi, friends! What are you all doing in the forest? Were you hiding? I totally found you.”
“Something’s happened,” said Tinn. “There was an attack.”
“Oh,” Fable said. The smile fell from her face and she scowled. “The forest has been acting kinda hinky and rustly today. I wonder if it’s been trying to tell me. Trees are super bad at saying stuff.”
“My dad got attacked by a giant from the forest,” said Evie. “The town is pretty worked up about it.”
“A giant?” said Fable. “I wish. We don’t have anything like that in the Wild Wood. Mama says there used to be all kinds of giant creatures in here—people giants, bird giants, funny-colored ox giants—but that was way before she was the queen. They’re all gone now. There’s moose, I guess. Moose are pretty big. Was it a moose?”
“No, not a moose,” said Cole. “Mr. Hill said it was three stories tall—or maybe six. It got a little confusing. He described it like a huge, angry person.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like that before. How tall is a story? That seems like a funny way to measure something. I’ve heard some really long ones, but some stories are pretty short, too.”
“Not like that,” said Cole. “A story, like buildings have stories.”
“I bet buildings don’t have as many stories as the forest has,” said Fable.
“Fable, no,” Cole said.
“I have stories,” Evie cut in, “about giants in the forest. Hang on, maybe this could help.” They turned toward her. She tugged one of the journals out of her book strap and riffled through the entries until she found what she was looking for. “How about this one?” She held out the page so that they could see. “They’re called kee-wakw. They’re supposed to be man-eating giants with icy hearts who roam the woods from here all the way up to Quebec.”
“Where’s Quebec?” said Tinn.
“I’m pretty sure that’s not a real place,” said Cole.
“Whoa!” Fable marveled, taking the book from Evie and flipping through the pages. “There’s giants made out of rocks and ones made out of ice. And there’s other stuff, too—here’s a page about hinkypunks. Neat! I wonder how Candlebeard is doing. Ooh, there’s pictures on some of these
