The Door in the Forest Read Online Free Page B

Byrdsong, lurching to a stop. “Home sweet home.”

    Late that night, Emily was wakened by the wind, or was it a sound within the wind? It seemed like a high, soft moaning, more like a call than a moan.
    Her grandmother had given her the bedroom at the top of the house, the Four Seasons room, just below the widow’s walk. It was a small and private place, square as a box, witha window on each wall, inviting weather from all directions, and a different season from each side. Just now, the window on the summer side was shuddering in its loose frame.
    The house, once quite grand, was so full of creaks and groans it was hard to tell where any particular sound was coming from. Seen from the front, the dirty white columns and sagging Victorian trim gave the place the look of a failed wedding cake.
    Emily didn’t mind. After her days on the road, she was glad for any roof over her head, and this one, at least, didn’t leak. It helped to remember that this had been her mother’s room once. She lay listening in the darkness. The wind, yes, but there was something besides the wind. Quietly, as if not to frighten the sound away, she slipped from bed and padded barefoot into the hall.
    Nothing.
    Almost nothing.
    She noticed a round-topped door to her left. As a small child, she used to be frightened of it and never tried to get it open. Medieval-looking, heavy and darkly studded, it warned her away. That didn’t stop her now, though it took all her strength to pull the bolt on a rusty latch. As she’d hoped, stairs led to the widow’s walk on the roof of the house. Stepping outside, she was nearly blown off balance and grabbed on to the iron railing to steady herself. It was scary out here, exposed in all directions to the wild night wind, but exciting, too. Overhead, a quarter moon scythed through a tangle of clouds. Below lay the woods, like a coverlet, and in the midst of it a ribbon of blackness. She squinted, trying to make it out. Then the ribbon began to glint as the moon broke freeof the clouds, and she realized she was looking at water, several streams surrounding a sort of island. Strange, she thought, an island in the middle of a forest. This was probably the only place in town that you could see it from. Her grandmother’s house stood on a rise of land, giving a view over the treetops.
    She heard it again, a faint call like a woman’s voice, and it was coming from the direction of the island. She strained to hear. The tall, vine-covered trees swayed like sad dancers. There! She heard it again. Could almost make out the words.
    Her breath caught in her throat. She had heard, had thought she’d heard, a voice calling
Where are you? Where are you
?
    The words were lost in the sighing of the trees.
    The whole island was moving, the curtain of vines swinging like long dresses. Just for a moment, the dresses swung aside, revealing a pale figure within the gloom. Was it an animal? Could it have been a woman? Too far away to tell.
    Emily stood leaning out over the rail, staring and staring, but the vines did not part again. Her throat ached with unshed tears and unsaid words.
    “
Mama
!” she cried out suddenly into the night. “
I’m here! I’m here
!”

Daniel didn’t want to take her, but it was hard to argue about it. The girl had been here three days, had no friends, and appeared to be mute. What would it hurt to have her come along on one of his walks?
    It was no good to say that Wesley could just as easily take her. This was a school day for him, and there was even a quiz. Name two cities on the Baltic, that sort of thing. Excuses don’t come better than that.
    To sweeten the deal, Daniel’s mother made two bag lunches and added a couple of fresh-baked brownies wrapped in wax paper. Daniel stuffed everything in his backpack, along with some rope and other supplies for his secret cave.
    Well, secret. It wasn’t really secret and wasn’t much of a cave. It went back ten or twelve feet into the rocky