The Ruby Moon (8 page)

Kate, Tuck, and even Bronte were waiting in the otherwise empty dining room. Despite the time that had passed since the race, Avery felt its effects, plus the fear and the run back to the castle. Her muscles throbbed, and her legs felt like jelly.

If I never run another race, it’ll still be too soon.

Kate rushed to Avery and drew her into a hard hug. “What happened?”

As she sat and poured out the story, Tuck draped his coat over her shoulders. Then Kate brought her a bowl of hot broth and more bread. Bronte nudged her cold nose under Avery’s hand so she had to pet the dog’s silky fur.

Each gesture made Avery feel better.

The group sat contemplating their next move until a scout burst in. “We need to move!” he said. “The king’s guard has fanned out searching for the mystery girl who won the race. Castle staff have been put on high alert to find her and report her to His Majesty’s people at once!”

Kendrick said, “A few servants know about the kids’ quarters. If they breathe a word of it to the wrong person, guards will ransack this side of the castle within minutes.”

“Then we need a new place to live,” Tuck said. “Now.”

“Listen carefully!” Tuck called to the kids assembled in the Great Room. “We don’t have much time! We’re in danger even as I speak!” They closed in on him in a tight circle.

Avery counted twenty-five and wondered where everyone was then realized that with the disappearances of so many of her peers, this was it.

Tuck continued urgently, “The guards could ransack this side of the castle at any moment, so we need to find new lodging immediately.”

One called out, “Is it true that they are looking for Avery?”

Another said, “Where can we go? We have no options.”

“The underworld,” Tuck said. “Take everything you can carry and move to the tunnels. No time to waste! We won’t be coming back to this part of the castle, so don’t leave anything you wish to keep.”

Kids began grabbing whatever they could carry—furniture, clothing, books, and blankets—and moving to the stairwell and the library door. Fights broke out over who owned what and who had the right to something that had belonged to someone now missing.

Avery suspected they were arguing over far more than the objects in question.

No one liked the idea of moving on such short notice—and certainly not to the castle’s underbelly. In a few hours, this side of the castle would be as empty as the winter woods—and would feel just as cold.

She hurried to the bunkroom to gather her things.

“What an eventful day!” a familiar voice trilled from the doorway.

Everyone stopped, and the room fell silent.

Ilsa glided toward Avery, arms crossed, eyes narrow. “So this is all your fault?”

Avery rolled her eyes.

Ilsa laughed, sounding hollow as the room. “You know more scouts follow you than watch the king? Ironic that you think you’re saving us from the evil queen when in reality we’re saving you from yourself. And now we move to the tunnels because of you. Where next? The dungeon?”

Avery wanted to protest, but how could she? Ilsa was right.

She was relieved when Tuck appeared, but instead of calling Ilsa out, he whispered, “Why don’t you find someplace to wait while we finish here? I’ll send someone for you when we’re done.”

With Bronte at her heels, Avery slipped across the hall into the storage room where Queen Elizabeth’s personal things had been kept. The place had been largely picked over for the kids’ store, but a few crates remained. She kicked one and bundles of handwritten letters tied with faded ribbons tumbled out.

The kids moved like a great wave of rats into the castle’s frigid underworld.

They spent the first night deep in the tunnels—away from the undesirables who occupied the catacombs—bickering and bartering over who slept where and which rooms would be used as common areas. Instead of sleeping in giant bunkrooms as they had upstairs, the kids paired up and claimed smaller spaces. When they found a room they wanted, kids tied a rope between a pair of wall sconces and hung a blanket over it to serve as a door.

With all the blankets, mattresses, and personal belongings, the tunnels quickly began to resemble the stalls Avery’s mother had dragged her to on market days.

Avery and Kate claimed an alcove off the main tunnel away from Ilsa and her friends.

Bronte and her quickly growing litter had free rein of the tunnels and were soon loudly scampering up and down the corridors, barking and nipping and rolling in the sludge.

Avery sensed she would rarely see them in this new home.

Avery—her hair in inky black knots that looked as bad as she felt—went searching for the new dining room and, more specifically, Tuck.

He appeared in a doorway, a kind smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Go ahead,” she said, holding out a pair of shears, “laugh. I know I look ridiculous.”

“What are these for?”

“Kate won’t cut my hair. Someone needs to.”

Tuck’s face contorted. “Why?”

“It’ll give me away. If I look like a boy, maybe they’ll move on. Now come on.”

Tuck shook his head, pushing Avery’s hand away. “Nobody’s gonna find us. I doubt Angelina even knows this place exists. If she does, she’s certainly not going to step foot down here.”

Avery didn’t budge.

“Fine,” Tuck said, taking the shears. “Sit.”

Avery sat and closed her eyes. She could only imagine what her hair would look like after a thirteen-year-old boy cut it.

This would be such a disappointment to my mother.

She heard the shears open and snap shut a couple of times as Tuck seemed to be practicing with them.

“Ilsa’s right, you know,” she said. “This is all my fault. I’m sorry we were forced to move here.”

“We’re here for our own safety,” he said. “Forget the race or what you said to the queen. We couldn’t stay in the kids’ quarters waiting for the next person to disappear. You understand that, right?”

Avery nodded, eyes still closed, fighting tears. “I guess.”

The shears opened and Avery tensed.

Then suddenly Tuck said, “I’m not doing this. But I’ll tell you what I will do. I’ll protect you from anyone who comes looking for you. You have my word.”

Avery turned to face him, but he left, taking the shears with him.

She dug in her pocket for a comb and attacked her tangled mess, wondering if Tuck had any idea what he had promised. It was a gallant gesture, and she was touched. She just hoped he wouldn’t be put to the test.

She suspected the queen wouldn’t give up looking for her so easily.

By the next morning, Avery knew the rest of the kids understood two things.

First, they had to be careful. If anyone else living in the tunnels discovered who they were and reported them to the king or queen, that person would become instantly rich and the kids instantly condemned.

Second, deliveries were going to be a lot tougher underground. Matches and candles would have to be smuggled down all the time. And though they’d found space for a large dining table the kids had fashioned out of driftwood, getting food from the kitchens upstairs would require creativity and work. Stragglers in the underbelly would always be threats to steal their next meal, whenever food was delivered.

Breakfast the first morning consisted of meager delicacies the kitchen staff had been able to sneak past the most persistent stragglers. Avery, Kate, Tuck, and Kendrick knew they needed to do something quickly, before mealtimes became too big an ordeal.

The four stayed at the rough-hewn table after breakfast.

“You have it?” Tuck asked Kate, who handed him a velvet pouch. “Nicely done,” he said, weighing it in his hand.

“What if no one comes?” Avery said.

“They’ll come,” Tuck said, confident as a king.

Several more minutes passed, but just as Kendrick let out a sigh, two tall men with unkempt hair, beards like untamed forests, and greasy clothes appeared in the doorway.

Tuck slipped the pouch into his pocket as he stood and extended a hand.

Both ignored it and glared, so Tuck motioned for them to sit.

They looked wary, but they sat, one grunting, “Hear you want peace in these here tunnels.”

Tuck nodded. “Don’t want any trouble. Just want to get along.”

“Who are you?” the other man growled. “Kin tell by your clothes you don’t belong down here.”

“Secret society,” Tuck said. “What do you say we agree to mind our business and you agree to mind yours?”

The men glanced at each other, mumbled something, and nodded. “You were right to come to us,” the first said, running stubby fingers through his beard.

“We kin make sure you’re left alone,” the second said, “but don’t ’spect us to do it for nothin’.”

“I’m listening,” Tuck said, casually putting his hands in his pockets. “What would be a fair price?”

“Scraps,” the second man said.

“Excuse me?”

“Offa this here table. We want what’s left when you’re finished. You gotta get food down here somehow to feed this society o’ yers. We ain’t askin’ fer much.”

Tuck squinted and spoke slowly. “You protect our food deliveries, and we give you what’s left after each meal?”

“Yessir, that’ll do us. Jes’ leave it down at the juncture yonder. I kin show ya where I’ll be.”

“And if I agree to that, you’ll shake my hand?”

“Yep.”

When they were gone, Tuck said, “And I was prepared to give them enough gold to buy a country house.”

During the first week in the underworld, Avery noticed a dark-cloaked figure—head and body bent low—move slowly through the tunnels at the same time each night.

His left foot dragged, and he carried a stick over his shoulder bearing a lantern on one end attached to a hook. Something compelled her to talk to him, but she couldn’t imagine what she would say.

Avery vowed to work up the courage to learn more about him.