Page 69

CHAPTER 68

“I KNOW HOW we got to the woods.”

Holo surprises himself by saying this.

He doesn’t really want to talk to these big, official men, but obviously Wendy can’t. All she can do right now is moan. And he can tell by the look of alarm in his sister’s eyes that she hates everything about the subject.

“Please tell us,” Dunham says graciously.

Holo nods. He keeps his body pressed close against Wendy’s shins. Reassuring her. Animals like to be close to one another. They take comfort in physical presence.

He thinks back to what Wendy used to tell them every night before they went to sleep. A bedtime story, told in a warm cabin by the light of a flickering candle. And then he starts to tell the tale.

“Once upon a time, there was a man and a woman who had two children, a boy and a girl. They lived in the forest, far from anyone, and they hunted and fished for their food,” he says. “But one year, the winter was so long and dark that they ran out of things to eat. The snow fell and fell, and then it fell some more. The fish froze in the river, and even the wild animals were starving.

“So the man and the woman led the children deeper into the forest. They built them a fire, and they told them to stay there. ‘We will find food,’ they said, ‘and then we’ll come back for you.’ The boy and the girl waited for many hours. The fire burned out, and night fell. No one came for them. The children huddled together for warmth.

“And then the girl saw a flickering through the trees. At first she thought it was fire, and she almost cried for joy. But it wasn’t fire. They were being watched—by golden eyes, and tawny eyes, and eyes the color of flames.

“‘Who’s there?’ the boy asked his sister. ‘Wolves,’ whispered the girl. And she began to cry because she knew that the wolves, too, were starving, and hunger knows no mercy.

“Slowly the animals came out from behind the trees. They crept toward the children, silent as death. The boy and the girl held each other, too frightened to move. The wolves came closer and closer. They sniffed the cold fire, and they sniffed the children’s warm skin. The children closed their eyes, because they were going to be eaten.

“But then the wolves lay down beside them. They kept the children warm with their fur and their breath all night along. And in the morning, they led them to their new home.” Holo looks up at the FBI agents. “What I mean is,” he says, “they led us to Wendy.”

For a long time no one says anything. Even Wendy’s utterly silent.

Holo is confused. Hadn’t he told them exactly what they wanted?

Then he hears his sister start to laugh. Quietly at first, and then louder. Pretty soon she’s almost cackling.

“Oh, Holo, you dope,” she says. “That is a goddamn fairy tale !”

“What?” he says, not understanding.

“It’s ‘Hansel and Gretel’ meets ‘Little Red Riding Hood,’” she says. “It’s not freaking true ; it was a bedtime story! Wendy, tell him!”

Wendy, of course, doesn’t say anything. Embarrassment hotter than fire floods Holo’s cheeks. His sister is right. For as long as he can remember, he’s believed a lie.

“So where did we come from?” he asks his sister.

“Don’t ask me,” Kai says. “And if you ever find out, don’t tell me, either.”