Chapter 87
CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN
Ellery
When we emerged from Ryker’s portal, I spun as I searched the trees for any sign of Mouse. There had been some sightings of him since the war, but only by the poltergeists. He hadn’t tried to engage with any other amsirah.
The poltergeists wouldn’t lie to me about seeing him, but it had been so long since I had that I couldn’t believe Mouse was okay until I hugged him again.
Shadows swirled around the woods as the trees swayed. Their dancing created movement where there was none and caused my heart to leap with hope, but Mouse didn’t materialize.
When the duke and his men raided our encampment in the forest, Mouse had fled. He’d never resided in the encampment with us, but I was sure he’d had a hiding place nearby.
All those men and women storming the forest had probably petrified him. Like the rodent he’d been nicknamed after, he’d gone to ground after their invasion.
Or at least that’s what I’d hoped for. I couldn’t think about him being caught and killed or destroyed by some forest monster since he was last spotted.
I told myself he’d come out when he was ready. Had the time finally come?
Most of the sightings of Mouse were recent, which meant he’d probably started emerging from his safe spot more. He would have to venture out for food and water, but Mouse was resilient and clever; he probably hadn’t traveled far for either.
The joy of possibly seeing Mouse again eclipsed the horror of what we’d left behind. I’d never say the duke deserved a quick end, or anything less than what he’d endured, but I would have preferred not to see his hand waving through the air or the bloody stump of his shoulder socket.
I shuddered at the memory. Hopefully, it was the last bad one I’d have to experience from the war and the aristocrats.
A rustle in the underbrush drew my attention a second before Mouse crawled out of a fallen tree with a hollow center. He was already on his feet when I stepped toward him.
Before I could move any further, Mouse sprinted toward me and launched himself. The impact of his weight rocked me back, but I didn’t care. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and we clung to each other.
Sobs of joy and laughter burst from me before I registered that I was going to cry. This past month had been an extremely emotional time, but I’d managed to keep my tears mostly in check since breaking down in the city of the dead.
Now, as intense relief and love filled me, I had no control over anything while I rocked back and forth with Mouse in my arms. I didn’t care that he was filthy and smelled like one of the forest creatures; I was just happy to hold him again.
He’d grown and lost weight since I last saw him. His head now fit perfectly beneath my chin, while the delicate bones of his hips and collarbone pressed against me. The dirty, torn clothes he wore weren’t suitable for the winter, but he’d survived.
I hated the idea of him just surviving, scared and alone in the forest. It broke my heart, and more tears spilled free for this beautiful, broken boy who’d seen far too much cruelty and death. I could love him, but I could never change him.
Farley and a dozen other poltergeists drifted through the trees. They stopped moving to hover ten feet away while watching us.
It wasn’t often they looked moved by anything, but their red eyes were softer as they gazed at us. I’d never let that fool me into believing they were over their bloodlust.
The poltergeists would always be dangerous. They hadn’t continued their killing spree by attacking innocent amsirah traveling through the woods, but they had resumed terrorizing them.
When I asked Farley why they stopped killing, even though they technically didn’t have to, he explained that the amsirah would stop traveling through the woods if they slaughtered them. He said they preferred to at least have amsirah to scare, even if they couldn’t stab them.
While his words were a little reassuring, I wasn’t sure that logic would keep all the poltergeists at bay. However, I wasn’t going to take their fun away, and while they weren’t killing the villagers, any remaining guards were fair game.
Eventually, Mouse eased his grip enough that I could lean back to look down at him. Cradling his dirty face in my palms, I lifted it to see his beautiful brown eyes. They shone with tears as he grinned at me.
“Will you come inside the manor for a little bit?” I asked. “I’ll find you some better-fitting, warmer clothes.”
“I’m sure some of Billy’s clothes will fit him,” Ruby offered.
When Mouse looked hesitant, I whispered, “Please.”
Finally, the boy nodded. I wanted to believe there was a chance I could talk him into staying, but I’d never tame the wild child.
Mouse’s home was in the woods; he was as much a part of it as the gargoyles. I hated having him out there alone, but the poltergeists and gargoyles would look out for him, and I suspected the forest did too.
“Come on,” I said as I draped my arm around his thin shoulders. “I’ll make your favorite dinner.”
Mouse grinned at me. I knew his favorite thing to eat was roasted turkey, potatoes, and gravy; thankfully, we had all those supplies at the manor.
“Have you encountered any more guards?” Ryker asked.
I paused to look over my shoulder as the poltergeists sagged a little. “No,” Farley muttered; if he’d been a petulant child, he would have kicked the ground. “Either they’re hiding, or we killed all the ones in the woods.”
“Good job on that,” Scarlet said with false cheeriness and both thumbs raised.
“Yeah,” they mumbled, disappointment radiating from them.
“I’m sure you’ll find someone who deserves to be killed again soon,” Scarlet assured them.
I stifled a chuckle when the poltergeists perked up a little.
“You really think so?” Farley asked eagerly.
“I do, but don’t kill anyone who doesn’t deserve it.” Scarlet waved her finger at them. “You can scare the shit out of them, but don’t kill them.”
The poltergeists deflated again. “We know, we know,” they muttered.
“But we’re really good at scaring the shit out of them,” a female said. “Last week, I made a guy crap his pants so much that a turd fell out while he was running!”
“That’s nothing,” Farley said. “I made one—”
Unwilling to hear their glory stories about shit, I guided Mouse out of the woods.
“We’ll see you soon!” I called back to the battling specters who were growing increasingly louder with their tales of smelly triumph. “Thank you for helping us find him!”
“Anytime, Lery,” Farley called.