lowering his head and growling softly the way he did when there was another animal close by. Jak stopped, listening for the crunch of tiny feet or the flutter of wings, but he didn’t hear anything. “There’s nothing there, Pup.” But a shiver went down Jak’s spine, and he thought about turning back the way they’d come. He knew the land behind them, knew it well, knew every berry bush and rock cave, every wading pool, and open meadow. But this . . . this was a strange place, new and different, and even Pup seemed to think they were in the middle of a mistake.
Something moved in the grass to Jak’s left and he startled, but Pup took off after whatever it was and Jak sighed with relief. Bring us back something good for lunch, Pup, he thought hopefully, his stomach growling. He’d already eaten the pocketful of berries he’d brought with them and his body was telling him—loudly—it wanted more.
It always wanted more.
There was a thin patch of trees in front of him, light spreading through from the other side, and he hoped there was a wide-open space that got enough sun that he could warm himself for a few minutes while he waited for Pup.
But when he stepped through the brush, he came up short, his mouth falling open.
A house? A house!
And there was smoke coming from the chimney. Jak ran to it, almost slipping in his hurry to get there. He was safe! He wanted to yell with joy, his chest suddenly too full to breathe. A person! Someone to help him!
He banged on the door, a small cry of relief falling from his lips. Rescued. I’m going to be rescued. His thoughts were already tumbling all over themselves—a river of happiness flowing quickly over uneven stones, bouncing, splashing—about the stories he’d tell about how he’d survived, about how—
The door opened and a man stood there, staring down at him. He gave Jak a strange kind of smile, but Jak was too relieved to care about that. “You found it. Then it’s yours. You’ve earned it.”
Jak shook his head. He didn’t know what the man meant. He had to make him understand so he’d call his baka and Jak could go home. “Hi, Mister, I’m lost.” He swallowed, trying hard to slow his words, to think of the right ones to use. Something bad happened to me. Someone tried to kill me.
“Come in,” the man said, standing back and holding the door open. “You’re cold and it’s warm in here.”
Jak stepped through the door into the warm room, another sob of relief clawing up his throat. He swallowed it down, doing his best to stay calm so he could explain to the man what had happened to him. To the other three boys who must be skeletons under the snow by now. Their families needed to know. Jak could tell them.
“What’s your name?” the man asked.
“Jak. I need to—”
“She named you Jak? All right then.” All right then? And . . . she? Jak was suddenly confused, scared. He took a step back.
“Do you know my baka?”
The man paused. “No. By she, I meant your mother. Sorry for my assumption.”
Jak frowned, looking closer at the man. He felt scared again. What if . . . what if he’d walked into the house of the man who’d tried to kill him? He backed up another step. But . . . no. This man didn’t look familiar, and he was a lot shorter than that other man. And his voice didn’t sound the same at all. Will you die today? Another shiver moved through Jak. No, he’d never forget that voice, not until the day he died. It was deep and dark, the voice of the monster who haunted Jak’s nightmares.
“I want to go home. Can you help me?” Jak asked, his voice shaky, the collection of tears he hadn’t shed in so long suddenly filling his throat.
The man stroked his brown and gray beard for a few seconds. “There’s a war. They’re killing the children.”
Surprise made Jak’s mouth drop open. He swallowed and nodded his head. “Yes. Yes. They tried to kill me.” He didn’t know who they were, but the man had to be talking about the same people. Will you die today? The words rang through his mind, the memory as fresh as though they’d just been said.
The man nodded. “Then you’re lucky. You must be very strong to have survived something like that.”