The Twins of Darkwood: Tales of Darkwood, Book 2 by Stacey Upton Bracey

Author:Stacey Upton Bracey [Upton Bracey, Stacey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: EWP Publications
Published: 2022-03-10T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Gert was angry that stepmother was not back with food. “She’s a liar,” she said to her brother. “She said she would be back yesterday. She’s gone and left us for good. And now it’s snowed again, and it’s twice as hard to find food in the snow.”

Harold looked up at his sister with his golden slanting eyes and cocked his head as if hearing something she couldn’t hear. “She’s tied to us now. She’ll be back.” He smiled and nodded, as if he had gotten silent confirmation from afar.

“You don’t know that.” Gert hated it when Harold got that far-off look that didn’t include her. She kicked him in the shin, so he’d look at her. “I found your dumb cat carving you made for HER. How come you didn’t carve anything for me?”

“You’d just throw it at me if I made you something.”

“Wouldn’t.”

“Would.” He stiff armed her as she came at him swinging. His arms were much longer than Gert’s, and her forehead fit comfortably into his palm. He was happy he had found this new tactic; it was much easier than trying to fight with Gert. She was so much quicker than he was, with tough little fists. Gert backed off after a moment. Her face was inflamed red, the same way that father’s face got before he would beat them. Harold took a step back from her and waited to see what she would do next.

With clenched fists, Gert puffed in and out, pinning her brother with angry eyes. He said nothing, just watched her with his quiet regard. Like a damn stupid tree, the way he just stood there.

Harold continued to stay unmoving. Gert’s breathing calmed after a while, and a wily look washed over her face. He liked that look even less than he had liked her anger.

“I’m going to go gather some mushrooms,” she said, and smiled.

Food always cheered Harold up. “Iff’n there’s eggs, we could have an omelet.”

“The mushrooms aren’t for you. They’re special. For when stepmother comes back.”

This turn puzzled Harold. He was sure Gert didn’t like stepmother very much, certainly not enough to get her special mushrooms. He kept thinking about the eggs, though. “We could have an omelet with no ‘srooms all the same.”

Gert nodded. “We could. You go see if there are eggs, and if the goats have milk today. I’ll be back soon and make you that omelet.”

“And bread on a stick, too?” Harold asked, a plaintive sound in his voice. “I could hold the twisty breads over the fire for you.”

Gert sighed, then nodded. She went to the special hiding place that only she and Harold knew about. A hidey-hole next to their beds that they’d dug up from the floor and covered with their straw beds. Gert kept a supply of food there for the hungry times when father punished them with missing meals. The hiding place held a few sharp knives Harold had stolen over the years. She saw he’d recently added a hand axe, too.

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