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48

"I promise... I won't... let anything... happen..."

Luke's words slipped out in haphazard mutterings, falling from his numb lips in-between gasps for breath. It felt like his lungs were both freezing and burning at the same time, but he couldn't give up. He had to keep going, he had to follow the path, and if he had to make the same promises over and over just to keep his head straight, then so be it.

"I promise I won't let anything happen to Val... I promise... I won't let anything happen to Tim..."

He stumbled and almost fell face first into the dirt. It felt like the small bag of provisions on his back was constantly pulling him down, as if it wanted him to fail. Maybe he should just drop the damn thing. It would certainly let him go faster...

No! That's fool talk! How far could he expect to go without food? Actually, how far was he along right now?

Luke stopped, his breath rushing out from between his chapped lips in white bursts of mist, and looked back.

He couldn't see the house anymore, so that was good. But that also meant he no longer had any way of knowing how far he had come. How long had he been walking? It felt like hours and hours, but he couldn't be sure.

The sun had just started peeking over the horizon by the time the fire finally burnt itself out, and by then the barn was nothing more than a mess of blackened support beams and piles of ash, as if a giant had decided to play a game of pick-up-sticks.

By the gods, he was so tired...

Luke rubbed his eyes and looked up at the sky, hoping to get an estimate of how long he had walked this narrow old path.

He couldn't see the sun anymore either, for it was blocked by a massive bank of clouds, stretching from one side to the other like a blanket in the sky.

Turn back. Turn back right now.

Luke hitched his pack and carried on, muttering his promises beneath his breath.

"I promise I won't let anything happen to Val... I won't let anything happen to Tim... And I won't let anything happen to Dad, either..."

Dad had been dead on his feet by the time the fire finally ended, but he didn't let himself rest until he had made sure all the surviving animals were okay. He led them, one by one, into Jitters's corral and then made sure there was enough food and water for them all. Some of the poor things had been badly burnt, so Dad had to clean their wounds as fast as possible. Luke and Tim had helped as much as they could, but for Valery it was all just too much. One moment she was standing by the fence, the next she had toppled right over in a dead faint, her hands raw and bleeding from lugging heavy buckets of water all night.

Dad picked her up, and Luke remembered the way her arms had dangled by her sides, so limp it looked like they belonged to a corpse. He carried her back to her room and tucked her into bed, and the entire time she never moved a muscle.

Is she okay? Tim had asked.

She's just tired. This night was far too big for such a small girl.

Luke had stared at his little sister, lying in that bed, so fragile, and he had asked his father what they should do. He felt restless, ill at ease, unable to calm down after all that had happened. He was still in a sort of panic mode, and just standing around with his hands empty when they had almost lost their home was almost more than he could bear. He wanted an order, something to do, something he could help with, but the answer his father gave him went in the opposite direction.

I want you boys to go to bed and try to get some sleep.

Sleep? Luke had whispered out of respect for his exhausted sister, but what he really wanted to do was shout. Dawn's about to break, Dad. What point is there in going to sleep now? We have work to do. The animals can't stay in that open corral forever.

No, they can't. That's exactly why you two need to get some shut-eye. Rest your bodies well, and I'll come wake you in a few hours, all right?

Luke knew he was lying in an instant. Dad was planning on letting them sleep the whole day away while he worked his fingers to the bone, cleaning up the mess that that monster had made. He was about to say something in that vein when Tim stepped forward.

Dad?

Yeah?

I... I swear I blew out that candle. I really did! I remember putting the lantern back on its hook and I blew it out! I didn't... I... I mean I'm sure. I think... I didn't -

Tim's tears cut clean lines through the soot and grime on his face, making the rest of him look even dirtier by contrast.

Dad had gotten down on one knee and placed his hand on Tim's head. Hey hey hey, when did I ever say it was your fault?

But I -

Timothy, stop it. Dad had ruffled Tim's hair and given him a wide smile_. I don't think it was your fault, or anybody's, so don't worry about it, okay? Go on to bed now, you could use some rest._

But-

Tim.

O-Okay...

Tim had walked past him on the way out, and that was when Luke noticed the way the clean lines on his face were almost like cracks in a mask - a dirty, filthy old mask that had been left in the attic to gather dust for decades. Well, he probably didn't look any better himself.

You too, Luke. Go get some sleep.

Okay, Dad. You'll come wake me up if you need help with anything, right?

I'll be sure to do that.

Luke had followed his brother out onto the landing, and when he turned around, Dad was kneeling over Valery's bed and kissing her on the forehead. It was in that moment, watching his father kiss his sister so tenderly while she slept that Luke knew what he had to do. He would only get one shot at it, and it would probably end in miserable failure, but this would be the last chance for all of them. He had to at least try.

Back in the present, half-delirious with exhaustion, Luke hugged his arms against his chest and watched his feet move forward. They were so numb from the cold it almost felt like they didn't belong to him. They were just taking turns by themselves, walking down this narrow little dirt road with the weeds and nettles growing in from the sides, always gaining more territory with every passing season. In some places the road was so overgrown he could barely get through without the weeds grabbing and pulling on his pants, but he couldn't give up and he couldn't turn back. Dad must have been way more tired than he was right now, but that didn't stop him from chopping down that pine tree at the edge of the forest. He watched him do it through his bedroom window, almost hypnotised. He'd swing his axe and the head would imbed itself deep into the tree's flesh, and then, after about a second, while he was still trying to wiggle it back out, the sound would finally reach the house.

Dok!!

The axe would hit the tree, a second would pass, and then the sound would arrive. It was as he sat at his desk, listening to the delayed sound of his father's diligence, that Luke had written a letter.

Dear Dad, Tim, and Vee

Please don't freak out when you see I'm gone. I'll be back as soon as possible.

Love, Luke

He chuckled, despite the gnawing ache in his limbs. That had to have been the absolute worst letter ever written in the history of Foxes, but what more was there to say?

Dad had worked for over an hour, and by the time he was done he had managed to fell three medium-sized pines. Not enough to rebuild the barn, but he'd probably use them for temporary stalls first, just so the animals would have a little bit of protection if the weather turned nasty. And speaking of nasty weather...

Luke regarded the sky with the same kind of suspicion he normally kept in reserve for the Wolf. The clouds had spread to every corner, leaving not even a single inch of blue uncovered. Even the highest peaks of the mountain were gone, vanished into the grey sky like a set of massive stone teeth biting into flesh. This was really bad. The sky doesn't just change that quickly unless there's a storm coming. The wind was picking up too, pushing against his face as if urging him to stop this foolishness and turn back.

Well he couldn't do that. Jitters might be gone, but he still had two good strong legs of his own, and even though it might take him three or even four days to reach Grovenglen on foot (if he never stopped to sleep along the way), that's exactly what he'd do, because he simply didn't have any other options.

Dad came back inside just as the sun was starting to rise, and he did the exact opposite of what he said he'd do, which was also exactly what Luke had expected him to do. He came up the stairs, walked down the landing, and passed every one of their doors without stopping to wake any of them. He just went into his room at the end of the hall and fell into his bed with a thump and a sigh. He was probably asleep even before his head hit the pillow.

That's when Luke snuck out on what was bound to be the most gruelling journey of his life. He knew he was being ridiculously stupid, but he also knew that sometimes the ridiculously stupid thing was also the right thing, the only thing. Yes, trying to make a four day journey right after running back and forth all night trying to keep the house from catching fire and getting absolutely no sleep whatsoever was indeed a moronic thing to do, but he couldn't afford to wait a single day. Banno was in the spare bedroom right now, just a hallway and a set of stairs removed from his sleeping little brother and sister. Every hour that went by was like another grain of sand sifting through a minute glass, except this minute glass didn't count down the end of your turn in some stupid kids' game. Also, Banno wasn't the only force he was racing against.

The wind suddenly blasted him in the face, pushing him back a step. He squinted through the gale, his eyes watery and burning, and saw the weeds rippling in the wind. Leaves and seeds and grains of sand blew against his body, tapping against his clothes, getting stuck in his sleeves, his socks, his hair, just about everywhere they could find purchase.

He lowered his head and pushed forward, trying not to think about how bad it would be at night. He only had one blanket, but hopefully that would be enough to -

Luke stopped and perked his ears. For a second there he thought he might've heard something. He turned in a slow circle, listening to the wind blowing through the grasslands on one side and pushing against the trees on the other, making them groan and creak. Yeah, it was probably just a noisy tree. But just in case it wasn't, Luke doubled his pace, racing against Banno, racing against the sky, racing against time itself.

"Luuuke!"

That was no bendy tree. Luke looked over his shoulder, his heart frozen solid in his chest, and saw his father turn the corner in a lumbering gait, barely able to keep himself upright, gasping for breath.

Their eyes met: a wayward son with a pack on his back and an open road stretching out before him, and a father, doubled over with his hands on his knees, his face still streaked with black soot. He must have ran the entire way...

"Luke..."

Luke shook his head.

"Luke... come here."

He shook his head again and took a step back. He felt like a tiny pup caught with his hand in the jam jar, pushed to the brink of tears just by his father's stern gaze.

"Luke, I understand what you're doing, and I am not mad at you, all right? I promise you, I am not mad. But I can't let you go on this... suicide run."

"I... I have to go, Dad. I have to." He took another step back, but Dad's strides were so much bigger than his. He was already closing the gap, coming closer and closer. Luke could actually see the minute glass running empty in his mind's eye, the grains of sand not just trickling, but cascading to the bottom.

"Why? Luke, we need you back home, now more than ever. The animals will freeze to death if we don't repair the barn. It's going to be a family project. You, me, Tim, Valery, we'll all help each other get through this."

"I know you guys need me!" Luke screamed. "That's why I'm going to Grovenglen! I can't just wait around for that goddamn Wolf to kill us all in our sleep, Dad!"

"So that's it. Luke, I was reluctant to send you out this time of year even on horseback. You honestly think you can make it on foot?"

"I will if I have to!"

"Son, just..." Dad stuck out his hands, palms up, as if trying to persuade him not to jump off a cliff. "Okay, I'll let you go, but at least wait until spring comes along."

"That's months away! We'll all be dead by then!"

"You'll be dead by tomorrow if you don't stop this foolishness!"

"I'm sorry, Dad! You trust everyone so easily, but I'm not you! I know in my heart that Wolf is evil, that's why I can't go back until I find out the truth! I'll prove it to you, then you'll have to listen to me!"

"Luke. We are both very, very tired. I can see that. And right now you're also very upset, I can see that too. I can even understand where you're coming from. I don't completely trust Banno either, but you have to look at this logically. What good will you do your family by collapsing out here in the middle of nowhere and freezing to death? If you really want to protect your brother and sister, you'll come back with me. I might not be as good a cook as Valery, but I'll make us some nice, hot soup and we can sit by the fire and warm ourselves up. And then, once you've had some sleep and gotten your strength back, you can come help me saw those pines into planks. It'll be just like when we built the house together, remember? What do you say, Luke?"

The wind rippled his clothes and pulled on his ears, and Dad looked at him with pleading eyes, begging him to turn back.

Luke understood what his father was saying. There were no lies, no tricks, no deceptions. It was all just truth and concern.

"Answer me, son."

Luke looked down the road, so thin and overgrown in places it was barely more than a dip in the earth, endlessly zigging and zagging its way to the Northwest. At the end of this road lay Grovenglen, and inside her borders was the truth he had been seeking since the day his foolish little brother decided to poke a sleeping Wolf with a stick.

"Luke, please don't make me take you back by force. I don't want to do something like that, but if you refuse to see reason, you'll leave me no choice. Come here."

Luke turned back to his father, the greatest, strongest, best Fox he knew, and although it broke his heart to do so, he shook his head. "I'm sorry, Dad, but _I'm_the one who doesn't have a choice. Please let me go."

"I can't do that."

"Please?"

"No."

Another gust of wind swept across the road, carrying a hazy cloud of dandelion seeds between them. They floated through the air, held aloft by their little fuzzy 'hats', as Valery was fond of calling them. They snagged in the grass and piled up against the rocks in drifts before being carried away again in clumps of white, breaking apart, getting stuck together again, floating, floating, always floating, completely at the mercy of the uncaring wind.

Luke threw down his bag and ran away as fast as he could, his fists pumping, his legs aching, his breath tearing through his chest.

"Luke!"

He didn't look back. All he could see was the road in front of him and the countless dandelion seeds wafting above it. All he could hear was the frantic beating of his heart and the rhythmic thud of his feet slapping against the ground.

Because the day was so bleak, he never even saw his father's shadow loom over him until it was too late. One moment he was running for all he was worth, the next he was ploughing through the dirt with a massive weight digging into his back.

"Stop it!" He heard Dad yell in his ear, his hands pressed down firmly against his shoulders and his knee pushing painfully into the small of his back. "Just stop it, Luke! Stop it!"

Luke's face had scraped against the ground as he fell. He could taste the blood on his lips and feel the sand on his tongue, but he didn't care about any of that.

"Let me up!" he yelled, thrashing against his father's grip.

"No! Not until you come to your senses!"

"Let me up! Let me up! Let me -"

Something clean and white landed on the road right in front of his nose. At first he thought it was another dandelion seed, but it was too shiny for that. He watched with dawning horror as it deformed and melted away, leaving behind only a wet spot in the dirt.

It was a snowflake.

Luke craned his neck and looked up at the sky. There were thousands upon thousands of tiny white specks floating down from the grey sky, just like the ash he had seen falling above their barn in the first rays of morning light.

They landed in the road and on the grass, in the trees and between the rocks, everywhere. He could even feel them melting on his head; tiny spots of freezing cold seeping into his fur.

Lying on the ground with his father pinning him down and the snow blowing in his face and the mountain looking on in contempt, he felt like the smallest, most useless, pitiful excuse for a Fox that had ever lived.

"It's too late..." he whispered, watching the snowflakes pile on top of each other, not giving the first ones a chance to melt. "I'm too late..."

"Now do you understand?" Dad asked. He didn't sound angry or victorious, just tired. "Come on, get up."

Dad pulled him to his feet and brushed the dirt off his shoulders with hard sweeps of his hand. Luke didn't fight it. What point was there in fighting anymore? He had failed. It was over.

"Luke?"

Luke couldn't look his father in the eye, so he looked down at his feet instead. There was already a small drift of snow forming against his shoes, and even more blowing in from the side, swirling through the air, obscuring his vision. Soon, everything would be covered.

He had failed.

"Hey, come on, don't be like that," Dad said and gave him a mock punch on the shoulder. "Or do you intend to stand there and sulk until you turn into a snowfox?"

Luke didn't move, not even to shake his head. He couldn't stop thinking about how he wouldn't be able to keep his promises. He couldn't stop thinking about how Jitters had screamed in the middle of the night. And most of all...

He couldn't stop thinking about how he and his entire family would be stuck inside the house with that monster until spring.

That's if they even make it till spring...

Dad shifted about and scratched his neck, looking decidedly uncomfortable. "Luke, listen, I'm sorry I tackled you like that, but we really, really need to go, and I mean right now. Neither of us will be getting anywhere if we lose all our toes to frostbite, am I right?"

Luke nodded sadly.

"Okay then, let's go. If you're tired I can carry you for a little while, but -"

"No, I'm not tired," Luke said and pushed past him, starting back down the path, back to his home, back to his family.

Back to that thing.

The snow was getting thicker.

---

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