Grandpa handled most of the explaining after the boys, Mia's cousins, were sent to bed. Anaisa turned several shades of unnatural colors ranging from bright red when she heard Denholm's name to eerily pale at the part of the story where Trace was carried off by wights.
"If it were anyone else telling me this, I would doubt their word," She closed her eyes at the end of the tale. "Where is that boy? The one that started all this?"
"Ford didn't start anything," Mia put in on a defensive impulse, but her aunt's warning look closed her mouth.
"He came here, with a map to that cursed cave, and brought with him names that were best forgotten and memories long buried." She said softly. "If it weren't for him, none of this would have happened. So I'll ask again, where is he?"
"We don't know," Seth gritted his teeth. "The blasted boy's talent for disappearing means he could be dozens of miles away by now, or right outside the window looking in."
