Shadows of Sherwood by Kekla Magoon Page B

find out what had happened to her parents. They could still be alive—no, they had to be! Robyn would find them, and as soon as she did, things could go back to the way they should be.
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    CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
    Home, Sweet . . . Barracks?
    In the morning, while Key slept, Robyn quietly shared her plan with Laurel. “I’m going home,” she told her. “Like I planned. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, but—”
    â€œI’m coming with you,” Laurel said, frowning as if this was obvious.
    â€œWhat?” Robyn said. It hadn’t occurred to her that the girl would still want to come. Robyn didn’t think the idea of going to Castle District would appeal to Laurel as much, now that they had found this excellent tree house.
    â€œYou think I’m going to stay here?” Laurel whispered, hitching her chin toward Key. “With HIM?”
    â€œWell, I didn’t think—”
    â€œAnd,” Laurel said, tapping a small foot indignantly. “Do you really think I’m going to let you do something crazy like that all alone?”
    Robyn smiled, unexpectedly happy and relieved. “It’s a long walk,” she said. “We’d better get going.”

    The walk home didn’t take nearly as long in the daylight—largely because Robyn didn’t have to feel her way along. Instead the girls jogged easily through the woods, leaping stumps and dodging vines and finally relying on a tried-and-true trail.
    When they emerged onto the grass, Robyn said, “There it is. We made it.”
    â€œWhoa.” Laurel’s eyes popped open wide at the sight of the enormous home. “You live here?”
    Running across the lawn toward Loxley Manor, Robyn’s heart leaped into her throat. She couldn’t contain the blossom of hope that had bloomed inside her. The hope that her parents might be inside . . .
    But the house was dark. The back door, locked. Robyn wasn’t surprised at that. Her parents usually kept it locked unless one of them was out in the yard or the garden. What surprised her was that the locked door failed to open, even when she touched the coded pad beside the door. It should’ve recognized her prints and let her into the house.
    â€œThat’s strange,” she murmured. So instead Robyn led Laurel to the familiar spot beneath her window.
    Laurel glanced up at the sheer white wall. “You think we can climb that?” she whispered.
    â€œI do it all the time,” Robyn said, shimmying up a few feet. She glanced back. Laurel’s nimble toes curled around the corner of a stone, ready to go.
    They climbed inside. With one glance at the state of her bedroom, the excited flutter in Robyn’s throat became a lump too hard to swallow. Robyn’s canopy bed had been pulled down. Not just the ruffled canopy—the whole bedwas gone. In its place stood four metal bunk beds, space enough to sleep eight men. All her old toys and belongings were piled in a corner.
    â€œWhich bed is yours?” Laurel asked. “And where are all the other kids?”
    Robyn shook her head, disgusted. “This is
my
room. Someone took away my things.” She marched into the other half of her bedroom suite, her playroom.
    Additional bunks lined the room. Her circuit board still sat atop the bookcase, but all the wires she’d spent hours carefully arranging around the room now coiled haphazardly on top of it.
    Laurel pointed to a cardboard box on the foot of one bunk. The open box flaps revealed a pile of mottled brown uniforms, brand new and wrapped in plastic. Nott City Military Police–issue camouflage.
    The MPs had taken over her house!
    Robyn’s pulse surged in outrage. She ran into the hallway, heedless of the fact that she should take care not to be noticed.
    In her parents’ bedroom, she found the same. Twelve bunks, for the room was much larger.
    Robyn couldn’t help herself. She dashed into