But when the man lit a cigar, Caleb wavered and the blade fell from his grip, striking the ground with a ring that echoed in the quiet street.
“Good evening,” the man called out, more in threat than in greeting. He was tall and lanky with auburn hair—not blond, as Caleb had seen it from the window. His two front teeth burst from his mouth. It was a wonder he could close the thing at all.
“I’m sorry—” Caleb was stuck in place. “I mistook you for someone else. An intruder.”
“An intruder!” the man said, chewing his cigar like a teething infant takes to a toy. “I nearly drew my pistol, but I don’t draw unless I’m shooting, and I don’t shoot unless I’m killing, and so you might glean your luck in this instance.”
Caleb’s teeth began to chatter, the frozen air cutting through the vacant part of him that had, just a moment ago, been overcome by anger—by the swelling need for retribution.
“Might I ask who you are?” the man said.
Caleb gave his name and said that he was lodging at the inn.
“I’m Arthur Benson. My aunt owns this place. I had no idea she was taking guests these days. Is he with you?” And Arthur pointed at the house.
Caleb turned to find Prentiss hugging himself in the cold. “It’s the two of us,” he said.
“I see,” Arthur said, and though he had only just begun smoking the cigar, he reached down and put it out against the side of his boot, then brushed the ash away.
“I’m sorry about the fright,” Caleb said. “I was acting out of sorts.”
“Oh, I wasn’t frightened in the slightest. Auntie, Auntie.”
Mrs. Benson, disappearing inside an enormous frock coat pulled on over her night dress, pushed Prentiss aside at the front door. “I received your telegram just yesterday,” she called out, “but I expected you at a more regular hour. Do come in.”
Caleb had never seen her move so quick, and he retreated backward as she hugged the man. Was his presence an intrusion now, or would it be rude to leave at such a moment?
“You have guests,” Arthur said.
“They’re paid up until the end of the month,” she said. “But there is always room for you, Arthur. Always room for family.”
*
An hour later they were back in the attic, both silent, but neither sleeping. Caleb could hear the quickness of Prentiss’s breathing, the way he shifted restlessly.
“I was certain it was him,” Caleb whispered. “You must believe me.”
“Get some rest.”
“You think I’m crazy.”
“Didn’t say that. Said to get some rest.”
“I know. But I—”
“Caleb.”
“You must listen—”
“What, you think I ain’t see ’em like you do?”
Caleb felt a jolt, as though a snake had hissed at him from the foot of his bed.
“What you think I be looking out at all day? In the woods. I see my brother every which way I turn, beaten and bruised, blood running down his face. I been seeing my mama ever since she been sold. I see Mrs. Etty standing right beside me like we back in those fields, like she ain’t never run off. Half the time you wake me up I think it’s Gail rousing me for lazying up a proper workday. I s’pose that boy August gon’ be outside your window for the rest of your days. That’s how them demons work. How them ghosts follow you around. Be proud you gone out and faced him straight on. Ain’t everyone brave enough for that. But you should know it ain’t gonna change nothing. You still gotta get up each morning. Still gotta settle down each night. So if you ain’t gonna get some rest for yourself, at least let me get mine.”
There was a rustling downstairs, born of who knew what, the quiet of the home acknowledging the noise.
“I’m sorry, Prentiss.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just sleep.”
*
From a distance, the men at the kettles appeared to be warlocks stirring cauldrons, sorcerers conducting rituals in a forgotten remove of the forest where no man was meant to wander. Caleb was relieving himself on a tree beyond the mill, looking back at them. The day was almost over. The boys cutting wood slowed at the height of each swing of the ax, and each man at the kettles had found a calm rhythm to his stirring. The final hour passed quickly and the men were standing out in the cold for a rest when Mr. Whitney motioned for Caleb to come with him. Caleb tapped Prentiss on the shoulder, and the three of them walked to a clearing that opened onto Whitney’s house and the farmland behind it that bore his crop.