فصل هفدهم

17

Brother and Sister

Mercedes stayed with Ofelia until the girl fell asleep—finally, despite her worries about her mother, despite the fear that filled the old mill like the dust of black flour.

The house was silent when Mercedes stole down the stairs. Everyone was asleep, except for the guards outside. They were watching the forest and didn’t see her kneel on the kitchen floor to wipe away the sand covering the tiles until she could lift one up. The bundle of letters she’d hidden underneath was still there, and so was the can filled with things she’d put aside for the men hiding in the forest. She was putting everything into her satchel when footsteps on the stairs made her freeze.

“It’s only me, Mercedes,” Dr. Ferreira whispered.

He came down the stairs slowly as if he were reluctant to finally do what he and Mercedes had planned to do for days.

“Are you ready?” Please say yes, Mercedes pleaded with her eyes. I can’t do this alone.

Ferreira nodded.

Mercedes led the way. She walked through the brook to hide their tracks. Moonlight seeped through the trees and turned the water into melted silver.

“This is sheer madness,” Ferreira muttered as the cold water filled his shoes. “If he finds out what we’re doing, he’ll kill us all.” Of course, they both knew who he was talking about. “But I guess you thought about that?” Had she thought of anything else?

Mercedes listened into the night. “Are you so afraid of him?”

Ferreira couldn’t help but smile. She was so beautiful. Her courage was a royal cloak around her shoulders.

“No. It’s not fear,” he replied truthfully. “At least not for my—” He fell silent the moment Mercedes pressed her finger warningly against her lips.

Something was moving in the forest.

Mercedes gave a sigh of relief when a young man emerged from behind a tree as silently as the shadows the waxing moon painted onto the mossy ground. A dark cap covered his black hair and his clothes gave away that he’d clearly been in the woods for a while. Mercedes didn’t take her eyes off him as he strode toward them through the ferns. Her brother was only a few years younger than she, but when they were children those years had made all the difference.

“Pedro!” She tenderly touched his beloved face when he stopped in front of her. Mercedes always forgot how tall he was.

Her brother gave her a long embrace. Once upon a time he had needed her protection only from the firm hand of their mother or his own recklessness, but these days it was far more dangerous to be a caring older sister. Sometimes Pedro wished that his older sister were less courageous and that she would take more care of herself. He’d even told her not to help them anymore, but Mercedes didn’t care what others told her to do or not to do. His sister made her own rules. Mercedes always had, even as a child. He loved her very much.