louder. “I’m not! You all can scram-flutter to your next roost like spooked pigeons now that you’ve been found, but I’m going no place!”
Antigone let go of Cyrus, put her face in her hands, and moaned. “We’re moving again, aren’t we?”
Cyrus looked at Nolan. Nolan nodded. “A long retreat becomes a long defeat.”
Rupert Greeves raged back into the room. Cyrus stood up, watching his Keeper, waiting. Rupert held his hands over his head, and then turned, raising a fist to punch the wall, He dropped it to his side instead, clenching and unclenching his fingers. He swore loudly, hooked a chair with his toe, and flicked it up into his hands.
“Rupert …,” Arachne said coolly.
“That one’s always been wobbly,” Llewellyn said.
Rupert Greeves turned, yelling, and the chair spun through the air into the fireplace. Ash and splinters exploded out over the hearth. A cloud of gray rolled slowly over the floor.
Breathing hard, hands on his hips, Rupert faced the group.
“Well,” he said, “they’re gone, and I don’t know how. With enemies all around, they’ll tear Ashtown down from the inside. Phoenix and Radu can pick through the ruins. And they know where we are, which means those fool Brendanites will know, and Bellamy will have eyes on them, which means he will know, and that’s just as good as giving Phoenix an engraved invitation.” He turned in a slow circle and then looked at Llewellyn. “I could eat.”
The room was silent.
Llewellyn cleared his throat. “I have a whole summer larder of smoked meat. Fish, deer, elk, bird. Cheeses, too.”
“Clever you,” Rupert said. “Beer?”
Llewellyn grinned.
“Do we need a new plan?” Antigone asked. “Or do we just keep recruiting and … running?”
“I have a new plan,” Rupert said. “I have a dozen new plans and more brewing. What I don’t have is a full stomach.”
Cyrus ate on the lodge roof, seated on the accumulated mulch of needles and cones and branches compressed by time and weather. Antigone sat on his left. Dan on his right. Five minutes earlier, Dennis Gilly, still in his short shorts and tall socks, had wandered out of the lodge door below them with a loaded paper plate in his hands. He had looked around for a grub buddy, but the Smiths had chewed silently and unnoticed above him. He’d gone back inside.
“How’s Mom?” Antigone asked. She was picking at a small pile of oily smoked salmon.
“Tired,” Dan said. He rolled his big right shoulder like it hurt. Then he stretched his muscled arm across his chest. “Sad. Asleep, I hope. It’s strange, I was so scrawny and small and blond when we last saw her. I’m completely different now, and I notice every single change when she looks at me. It’s like I’ve switched bodies.”
Cyrus understood, even though his body had merelygrown. Dan’s body had been overhauled from toes to nose—his hair had darkened, his eyes changed along with what they sometimes saw, and his underfed surfer physique was long gone. He looked more like a professional fighter now. His heart still tried to explode whenever he had serious visions, but Arachne’s flesh-weaving touch had helped with that. It hurt him, but it hadn’t been able to kill him.
Antigone set her plate beside her. “Why is Mom sad?”
“Why wouldn’t she be?” Dan asked. “Think about it. For her, it’s like Dad died two months ago. She was trying to swim after him and she passes out. We were a family when she fell asleep. Homework. Sports. Fishing. That stupid little garden she made us weed. Then she wakes up and the last thing she remembers is swimming. Dad’s really gone, I’m completely different, Cyrus is grown up, and Antigone had no mother to dress her or teach her girl stuff, and on top of that we’re all caught up in Dad’s old world and people are trying to kill us.”
“I did okay,” Antigone said.
“Sure,” said Dan. “But that’s not the point. Mom lost more than we did, and
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