I remember the letters on the trunk near our village and turn the pages until I find XVIII, number eighteen. One line jumps from the page, making me catch my breath: “Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade….” I drop the book, too many letters and numbers and words swirling through my head.

It's so clear to me now that I can't understand how I didn't realize it earlier. The paths were marked with numbers. And there must be a pattern to them, an order we have yet to figure out.

I am so consumed by these thoughts that I don't register another person with me until he speaks. I tuck the photo in the book and push it under my skirt so that he doesn't see it.

“Mary, are you going to die like the rest of them?” Jacob asks in his little-boy voice. “Are you going to turn and then come eat me?” He kicks his toe against the rough boards nailed to a thick branch.

I can't help but laugh as I say, “No, honey. I wasn't infected. What made you think that?” He frowns and I realize that I shouldn't have laughed. “It was Aunt Cass,” he answers. “Uncle Travis told her what happened before, when you were escaping. She said she wondered why you didn't just die when all those Unconsecrated were all over you in the house. She thinks you must be sick.” With his slight lisp Cass becomes Cath and Unconsecrated becomes Unconthecrated.

“But Uncle Travis said you fought off the Unconsecrated and that you were real brave. Is that true, Aunt Mary? Did you really fight them?” He pauses for a moment and if possible his voice becomes even smaller. “Can you teach me how to fight them too? Because they scare me.” I tug at his hand, pulling him into my lap. His lip trembles and I wrap my arms around him and squeeze. “None of us wants to be like them,” I say. “And I promise you that we will do everything we can to keep you safe.”

“I don't mean to be afraid,” he says. “But sometimes I can't help it.”

“I know, sweetheart. We're all afraid,” I tell him. And somehow holding him makes me less scared.

“You know,” I tell him after a moment, “Argos is the one who really saved me. He's the one who rescued me when I fell.”

He giggles. “I like Argos.”

“Then he's yours.”

He looks up at me with his large eyes. “Really?” I can hear the hope in his voice and it fills me with joy.

“Yes, really. You can have him—with him around you can be less scared.” He hugs me, his little fingers fierce around my neck.

I can feel the footsteps of someone approaching. “Jacob,” Cass says, “your uncle Jed is looking for you to help him prepare dinner. Do you want to go help him?”

“Aunt Cass, guess what?” he shouts, jumping from my lap. “Aunt Mary said I could have Argos to protect me from the Unconsecrated!”