Wildwood Imperium (Wildwood Chronicles 3)

“Shhh, Septimus,” said Curtis as he turned from the two dangling nets. “Those are my sisters.” He climbed into the nearby brush and began working at some unseen mechanism; soon, Elsie felt the net loosen and shake and they were lowered slowly to the ground. Before he’d gone to do the same to the other trap, Rachel shouted out to her brother as she tried to untangle herself from the grounded webbing and the other bodies:

“Don’t let them go yet, Curtis!” she yelled, pointing desperately at the other net.

Curtis popped his head out from behind a bush. “What?”

“One of them is very bad,” was the best she could do on a moment’s notice.

By the time Curtis had paused in his undoing of the ropes that held the second trap in place, Nico, Martha, Rachel, and Harry had leapt to the open space below the dangling net and readied themselves. Elsie stood up and stared at her older brother, still in disbelief at his sudden appearance, here in the Impassable Wilderness.

“Okay,” said Nico. “Lower ’em down.”

Curtis did so, apparently undoing some hefty knot on the forest floor, and the net began descending with an aching creak. Roger’s and Carol’s arms and legs, pretzeled ridiculously in the ropes, stuck out from the bulbous trap like tendrils on a sea anemone. When they’d touched the ground, Nico and Harry dove into the scrum, nabbing Roger by his arms, and held him back while Martha grabbed Carol and lifted him to safety.

“Thank you, dear,” said Carol.

Curtis tied off the anchor rope and began to walk back into the clearing when he was set upon by Elsie, who jumped on him, her arms thrown around his neck in a strangling hug. “Curtis!” she yelled. “I knew it. I knew it! I just knew we’d find you. I missed you so much. So much. But I was also so, so angry at you.”

Curtis returned the hug, wrapping his arms around his little sister. “You too, Els. I’m so sorry. So much has happened. There’s so much to tell. I don’t even know where to start.”

They were drawn away from their conversation by the impassioned objections coming from Roger Swindon, who was held fast by Martha and Nico. “Rope!” called the saboteur.

“Right, one sec,” replied Curtis, and he dove into the trees, retrieving a short length of what looked to be hand-spun rope. He rushed over to the squirming man and, within a few scant seconds, had deftly manacled his hands.

“Nice,” said Nico, impressed by the boy’s ability.

Rachel and Elsie watched their brother, agog. He seemed to be suddenly embarrassed. “It’s one of the first things you learn,” he said, by way of explanation.

“What do you mean, first things you learn?” asked Rachel.

“In Bandit Training,” said her brother. A brother who, Rachel recalled, had been given a note from their mother so that he could sit out his gym class’s mandatory presidential fitness test.

“Bandit Training?” repeated Rachel. “What are you

talking about?”

“That’s what I am, guys. That’s what I’ve been doing in here. I’m a bandit. A Wildwood bandit.”

“Cool!” shouted Elsie, letting the weird explanation wash over her. She’d never imagined she’d have a bandit for a brother. Not that that was something she’d ever expected; it was just a pleasant surprise.

“Wildwood bandit?” questioned Rachel skeptically, ever the big sister. “What’s that? Does that even exist?”

Curtis was strangely shamed by his sister’s comment, and he seemed to inwardly collapse until Carol said, “Oh, it does. They do. I did not expect to run into a band of the Wildwood bandits, but it’s a good thing we did. What’s more, one that seems to be an ally. Where are the rest of your brethren, good bandit?”

“They’re watching from the woods,” said Nico, peering into the greenery. “Why don’t they come out, your fellow bandits?”

While Curtis seemed to be heartened by the old man’s defense, his voice lost some of its previous color when he said, “Because those are just dummies. Mannequins. I made them. The Wildwood bandits are . . . gone.”

“Oh,” said Carol, frowning. “That is very strange.”

Martha stood at Carol’s side. “Are you all right?” she asked.

“Just fine, dear,” the blind man said, blinking his two wooden eyes. “We’re free, at least.”

“Yep,” said Martha, squeezing the old man by the waist. “I knew we would be.” She turned to the assembled crowd and spoke, smiling widely. “Thanks, guys,” she said.

The children, reunited with Carol and their fellow Unadoptable, swarmed one another, high-fiving and trading quick remembrances of their hair-raising ordeal in Titan Tower. Carol beamed down, unseeing, on the children, the proud godfather to an impressive brood.

Once they’d regained themselves, Rachel and Elsie quickly besieged their brother, and the long telling of his incredible story was unspooled to his disbelieving siblings. Elsie stood with her hand at her mouth the entire time, her eyes filled with tears, marveling at the extraordinary adventures her brother had experienced since they’d last seen each other, walking to school that early fall morning like they had untold mornings before. When he got to the point about the City of Moles and Prue’s quest to reunite the strange machinists to bring back the mechanical boy prince, Elsie let out a little shout. “What was his name, the other machinist you were looking for?”