Chapters (76)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- PROLOGUE
- PART I
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- PART II
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- PART III
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- INTERLUDE
- PART IV
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- INTERLUDE
- PART V
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- PART VI
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- INTERLUDE
- PART VII
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- PART VIII
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- EPILOGUE
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- Newsletter Sign-up
One by one they broke off, hoping to catch any new glimpse of a lead, but it was gone. There were no more tracks to follow, no path, nothing. If it were daylight, or if the weather were kinder, they might have fared better. But they had ruined it now, tromping through the forest’s understory, switching back and second-guessing themselves. Guy pulled Devon aside and lowered his voice.
“At this point, we just have to guess at a direction and stick to it. North, south, doesn’t matter. I just need a destination. The odds are against us, but making the decision matters, it’ll give the boys a goal. So give me something, Devon. Anything. Where would John Little go to hide? It doesn’t have to be right, it can be an instinct. But your instinct will at least be informed, while mine will be a blind stab.”
“Hathersage?” Devon tried, with little confidence. “John Little came from Hathersage. I don’t know if he still has any ties there, but he would know the area.”
“It’s better than nothing,” Guy nodded. “Thank you.”
Better than nothing—at this moment, Guy was the nothing. He had lost control of the situation earlier in the evening, and now could contribute nothing but guesses. This gerold was better than him. Better than nothing.
The morning sun was three fingers over the horizon when they finally settled for rest, halfway to Hathersage. Guy’s legs and back burned from riding, and his eyelids were even heavier than his arms. He bought his men a few rooms at a decent-looking waypoint called The Third Pig, even after its innkeeper offered to house them for free. They had stopped at every village and hovel along the way, waking as many people as they could, hoping for stories of a group of riders making their way in the night. They were desperate for any confirmation they were headed in the right direction, as every step they traveled was potentially putting them farther from their target. Every hour made the rescue less likely.
Guy tumbled unconscious on his way down to the straw mat, knowing he’d see Bassett shortly, in whatever fitful dreams awaited him.
Dreams of his mistakes.
Dreams of the hole …