Of Doors and Ravens

Of Doors And Ravens

Copyright 2022 Colin Simpson
All rights reserved

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 Prologue

Alright now, settle in my dears. That’s it.

This time of day is ripe for a tale, wouldn’t you say? And I am ripe for the telling.

Draw up close now, that’s right.

This one is a tale of bravery. Of dangers and darkness. And of love. Above all else,
of love.

Now I happen to know that this tale is true. I know that because I was there. And
you were there too. Yes really, don’t look at me like that. You just don’t know it. But
you will. Soon. Just listen.

You may find that the tale is as familiar as an old lullaby, or like the vague shape
of your favorite sled under a blanket of newfallen snow. Yes, some names are
different, and some places have new names, just like in any old tale, but the root of
it, (the heart of it, now) that is true.

And you were there.

Would you like to hear it?

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 Chapter 1

The three children rounded the corner on their bikes and burst through
the red and golden October leaves, blown along on the last faint breath of
summer. It had been a long, familiar sort of day, not at all the type of day you
would expect your parents to go missing. But no one ever really suspects such a
thing, do they?
As they usually did on days like this, the children rode home from school
to their quiet home on Cedar Street. Today was Friday, and they rode with the
careless abandon of the autumn weekend beckoning before them. It would still
be a few hours before their parents came home from work, a few lovely hours all
to themselves.
As they careened around the corner and onto their street, underneath the
boughs of the sycamores, Zoey called over her shoulder to her younger sister. “I
can’t believe you would let that Dalton kid keep making fun of you like that,
Gwenny. You gotta speak up for yourself, I’m not always gonna be around to
protect you. That kid is always such a jerk!”
Gwen’s face was a stormcloud of anger and frustration as they made their
way towards their driveway, she didn’t even want to look up at her big sister. “I
don’t want to talk about it.”

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 Their younger brother Ethan came barreling up from behind. “You know
what I would’a done, Gwenny? I would’a acted like I was gonna scratch my nose
and then real fast put him in a headlock and squeeze ‘um until he quits.” Zoey
rolled her eyes at her little brother and Ethan continued, unbothered. “Dalton
would think twice about ever messing with you again, Gwen.”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it!” Gwen hu ed as she headed up the
driveway. She parked her bike and gave her kickstand a healthy kick, her ne
chestnut hair falling in a mess around her face. Walking over to the front door,
she grabbed the door handle and fumbled with the key. “You always say how
you’d just jump in and beat up whoever’s bothering you Ethan, but you’ve
never actually done anything like that. If you did, he would probably pound
you!”
“He would not, believe me, I’m way too fast.”
She continued as if he hadn’t said anything. “You don’t know what it’s
like with that Dalton kid, he’d gure out a way to make it worse no matter what
I do. Both of you just leave me alone!”
She nally got the lock to cooperate, and as she opened the door a black
dog and a gray tabby cat burst out of the door and tangled themselves in the legs
of the children.
“Hey Roxie, there’s a good girl. Hi Chevy, did you miss us buddy?”
Ethan and Zoey scratched their ears and gave them a good smothering while
Gwen stomped o into the house and away from them.

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 There were ve years of age separating the three children, each of them
like saplings planted almost exactly two and a half years apart from one another,
and despite the usual amount of bickering and slamming of doors, they usually
got along fairly well. When they weren’t teasing or purposefully annoying each
other, they were actually quite ercely protective of one another. Zoey had just
started eighth grade, with Gwen in fth, and Ethan in third.
As Zoey left the yard and walked through the front door, she felt bad for
being a bit hard on her sister. She knew it wasn’t Gwen’s fault that some kid was
picking on her. “Come on Ethan, I can hear her grumbling around in there,”
she said over her shoulder. She called to the cat and dog, who eagerly followed
them inside.
Gwen’s shoes and backpack were scattered across the middle of the front
room, and they could hear her rummaging around in the kitchen. “Ugh, there’s
nothing to eat!” came her voice from inside the cupboard. “This day is just the
worst.”
“Ethan, you wanna feed the pets and I’ll make us a snack?” Zoey o ered.
“Fine,” Ethan called. “Just not crackers and peanut butter again, ok? It’s
been like four days in a row.”
“Really Ethan?” Zoey protested. “More like two days. But whatever.
Gwen, what do you wanna do this afternoon?”
“I don’t know, nothing I guess,” Gwen grumbled, heading back to her
room and ripping o her school sweater before slamming the door behind her.
She dove onto her bed, scooping the pillows into her face and letting her

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frustration out in a long, mu ed scream. It felt good. Screaming into a pillow
can really be one of the ner things in life, she thought. After a minute or two,
she could feel her anger begin to slowly dissipate like vapor into the air as she lay
in the quiet comfort of her room. She was still frustrated, but she could feel
herself beginning to settle. Here in her room, with her pillows and stu ed
animals, this was her place of refuge. The place where she could always go when
the world was just too much.
A crow landed on the branch just outside her window. Its head tilted
quizzically, its black eyes seeming to look into her room, as if watching her.
With her face in the pillows, Gwen never even saw it.
In the living room, Ethan was running around chasing Roxie the dog
with a wild grin on his face.
Zoey was curled up on the couch, already lost in a book, her ngers
absently tugging at the frayed end of one of the many friendship bracelets she
always wore. The girl devoured a new book every few days, she just couldn’t
help herself. Tales of adventure, of space pirates and of princes saved by
princesses, of rebellion and loss, of tenderness, and betrayal. Zoey lost herself in
these tales, these shimmering worlds that came alive, that almost seemed as real
as this one. Sometimes she needed to remind herself to come back.
She looked up at her brother, whose shirt was already o and his long
blond hair streaming behind him as he bounded through the house and over
chairs in his unending game of chase.
“Ethan, go play outside.”

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 He whizzed by with the dog on his heels, pretending not to hear.
Lily made her way over to the cupboard and bent to look inside. “Gwen
was right, there’s nothing in here,” she mumbled to herself. “What I could go
for on a day like today is a nice grilled cheese sandwich.”
“Oh man, that sounds so good!” Ethan agreed as he rumbled around the
counter and back down the hall. “And some creamy tomato soup!” he called.
So he could hear her after all. Interesting.
Dreaming of soup and grilled cheese gave her an idea, one that also might
help cheer up her sister. She walked down to Gwen's closed bedroom door and
gave it a light knock. “You know what we should do, Gwenny?” she said
through the door. “We should ride our bikes over to Aunt Maura’s and see if
she’ll whip something up for us! Her sandwiches are just the best.” She knew
Gwen would usually jump at any opportunity to go over to Aunt Maura’s.
“What’cha think, Ethan?” Zoey yelled.
“About what?” came the response from down the hallway.
“Bike ride to Aunt Maura’s for snacks and sandwiches!”
“Yeah, sounds good!” he called. “Just let me feed the pets and we can go.”
After a moment, Gwen called grumpily through the door. “I thought
you had plans with your friends after school?”
“Oh!” Zoey said. “Yeah, that’s right.” She ran her hand through her long
auburn hair absent-mindedly, trying to weigh her plans.

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 Gwen thought about it for a bit, her voice quieter from behind the door.
“It’s ok if you wanna hang out with them, me and Ethan can gure out
something to do around here.”
Zoey and her friends had been planning all week on going over to
Chelsea’s house after they got out of school on Friday, but the sound of
disappointment in her sister’s voice was tugging at her. She hated to admit it,
but she really couldn’t stand leaving her upset like this.
“It’s not that big a deal Gwenny,” Zoey said, convincingly. “I can always
head to Chelsea’s after dinner.”
After a moment the door opened slightly, and Gwen’s reluctantly
hopeful face appeared. Zoey wrapped her arm around her sister’s head and gave
it a playful squeeze. “You ready, Ethan?”
“I was ready ve minutes ago,” he said, grabbing a handful of chocolate
chips on his way.
“Come on then, let’s go see Maura,” Zoey said. And with that she walked
out the front door and into the late afternoon sunlight, with Ethan streaming
out behind her.
Gwen gave the kitchen one last look, and noticed Ethan had left the open
bags of pet food out in the kitchen. She put them away with a hu and an
eye-roll, locked the door behind her, and ran out into the sunshine after her
brother and sister.

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 The Pale Stranger watched them, crouched in the bushes beside their
house, waiting to take their parents away.

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 Chapter 2

Aunt Maura lived less than a mile away from the children’s house, and as
they rode their bikes through their neighborhood and past the lake, they rode
with the carefree ease of youth as the afternoon sun cast long shadows out
behind them. The smell of freshly cut grass and dried leaves was all around
them, the wind carrying the sweet scent of new growth mingled with a tang of
rich autumn decay.
The kids and their parents lived in a quiet neighborhood in the small
northern Michigan town of Sturgeon Falls, and Zoey had always loved the
charming, peaceful streets of this cozy little town. She loved to look at each
house on their rides home and imagine the lives of the people inside. Growing
up here, far away from the big city and tucked up in the northern part of the
state, surrounded on three sides by the Great Lakes, it gave Zoey a sense that
they were far removed from the rest of the great wide world. You had to drive
for hours just to get to this northern town, and being surrounded by water, the
only way out was to drive all the way back down. It felt very secluded and safe,
almost too much so. Like they were hidden away up here from the rest of the
world. Kids were playing noisily in neighbors’ yards, eager to soak in every last
remaining ray of warm autumn sunshine before the last of the leaves had fallen
and the days of bitter cold began to set in.

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 They rode past the lake and down onto a dirt road to the right, where the
large oaks and maples stretched their limbs in a canopy high up above them,
reaching out to touch the ngertips of their kinfolk on the other side. The
sunlight ltered through the many-colored leaves, dappling the road and its
travelers in shifting spots of speckled light. The children had always marveled
that this was a sort of natural tunnel, almost a doorway that seemed to lead
them out of their everyday world and into a di erent, more ancient one.
They did have a particular thing for doors. Almost as if each unknown
door called to them, pulled at them to see what lay beyond it. It might be an old
closet, or a pantry, or a secret tunnel, you never knew until you opened it. And
isn’t that what childhood is all about, when you get right down to it?
They rode down the dirt road in the tunnel of trees for a few minutes,
until Ethan saw the funny little gnome hut that served as a mailbox on the right.
“There it is!” he said, as he passed Zoey and swerved onto the overgrown and
unkempt gravel driveway. They rode deeper into the woods, when all at once
the shape of a lovely stone cottage stood out against the trees.
Maura’s house was quaint, old and worn down, and the children had
always found it absolutely lovely. The roof had a bit of a wave to it, and there
was a little window that peeked out of the shingles as if the cottage was lazily
opening one eye to sneak a look at approaching visitors. The wooden door and
the windows all had rounded tops, and gray pu s of smoke seemed to always be
lazily billowing out of the gray stone chimney. The entire cottage looked as if

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long ago it had given up the ght and welcomed the green moss and lichen that
now climbed over it.
The three children hopped o their bikes without bothering to stop, as
kids of that age tend to do, letting their bikes fall to the ground as they chased
each other to the door.
They laughed and squealed at each other as they panted toward the
round doorknocker that was always the hard fought goal. Zoey had gained the
lead and let out a loud Ha! as she slowed down and reached out to grab the
doorknocker, when Gwen suddenly barrelled into her from behind with a loud
WHOMP as they both crashed into the front door.
They bounced o the door and fell to the ground, each holding their
heads or their stomachs and groaning loudly. Ethan stood over them, pointing
and laughing. Gwen knew Zoey was going to be furious, but sometimes the
satisfaction of tackling her older sister proved too tempting to resist.
Zoey lay with her eyes closed, wondering which part of her body hurt the
most and straining to catch her breath, when before she knew what was
happening she burst out laughing. “Bahahahaha!! Gwen, you chumpawump!
You nearly broke my face with that door!”
The three of them were laughing uncontrollably when the door opened
and they heard a woman’s stern voice call out “get o the ground, you dirty
wildlings, and get in here right now and give us a hug!”
The girls were getting up with sheepish grins on their faces as Ethan
jumped over them and ran into Aunt Maura’s welcoming arms. The familiar

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smell of cinnamon, warm steeping tea, and pipe smoke enveloped them as they
gave her a satisfying squeeze at the door and made their way into the cottage.
Aunt Maura was actually not really their aunt at all. She was tall, with an
easy grace and a simple, natural beauty. Her hair was silver-gray, and her green
eyes ickered mischievously whenever she smiled, as if they were lit by
candlelight. She had been a part of the children's lives since their birth, and
shared that intimate, familiar closeness with their parents that ‘family’ was the
only way to describe it.
The inside of Maura’s cottage was just as small, and shabby, and utterly
charming as the outside. There was a replace in the kitchen that always seemed
to be burning, with pots and pans hanging over the stove and dried herbs and
owers hanging from exposed wooden beams in the ceiling. There were a few
electric lamps in the house, but mostly the cottage was lit by the many
handmade candles strewn throughout the house. A little eating nook with three
chairs was o to the side by the window, which was tting because the girls had
always joked that Maura’s house could barely t more than three people at once.
Three grownups, anyway.
The walls of every room were absolutely lined with books, everywhere.
Old, worn books and newly nished paperbacks covered almost every surface of
the walls, even the cracks between stones had books jutting out of them. Over
doorways, under tables, in every corner, books pervaded the cottage and lled it
with the life and adventure of their pages.

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 On the opposite side of the kitchen there was a tiny sitting room, where a
little old sofa sat facing the replace. A basket of knitting lay next to an
extremely worn armchair that sat by the window and seemed to always catch the
few remaining rays of sunlight, no matter what time of day it was. Behind the
sitting room there was a small little bathroom with a brass tub barely big
enough to sit in. O to the right a skinny, winding set of stairs led up to Maura’s
room and the cozy spare bedroom that the children sometimes stayed in.
The books, though. It was the books that constantly drew their eyes, each
one a new, uncharted land to dive into. Often they would nd themselves
running their ngers along the spines, scanning over the titles and imagining the
stories held within. As Maura busied herself in the little kitchen, Gwen found
herself in the hallway looking over the well worn spines all along the wall, where
Narnia stood next to Dune, and Harry Potter was propped up between
Steinbeck and L’Engle. Her mind wandered pleasantly as she scanned the books
she’d seen a hundred times. Her eyes rested on an old, worn book of dull green,
with a sort of symbol or glyph on the spine. Curious, she reached up to pull it
o the shelf.
“So! What bold plans are we scheming today then, my dears?” Maura
asked the children as they made their way to the kitchen. “Come, sit down. I’ve
made you some hot soup and sandwiches.”
Gwen turned and stepped back into the kitchen, the unknown book
forgotten as her stomach roared to life. “Hey, how did you know?” Gwen asked
with a wide-eyed grin. “We, I mean, that’s why we thought to come over!”

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 If she ever stopped to think about it, Zoey was pretty sure Aunt Maura
seemed to always have food ready whenever they popped in to visit.
As if she hadn’t heard Gwen’s question, Maura continued, “Your
weekend has nally begun, come on! Tell me, what kind of trouble are you
planning to get into with your few days of freedom?”
The children laughed with her as they grabbed a fresh gingersnap o a
plate on the stove.
“I was going to go over to Chelsea’s tonight and see if Mom and Dad
would let me stay over, she’s got a bedroom up on the second oor and we like
to sneak out onto the roof late at night and look at the stars” Zoey o ered. The
children knew that Aunt Maura loved hearing about their mischief, and over
the years she had proven to be a secret keeper of the highest order.
“Gaze at the stars, eh?” Maura teased the thirteen year old. “Now you
girls wouldn’t be doing any gazing through a few neighbors’ windows too now,
would you Zoeybean? Possibly the Nielson’s and the Jackson’s across the
street?”
“Maura!” Zoey gasped in mock astonishment. “I am appalled you would
even think me worthy of something so improper!”
“Especially since you pack your binoculars every time you go to Chelsea’s
house,” Gwen teased.
“Do not!” Zoey sco ed, o ended.
“I’m gonna ride bikes and play football all weekend long with the
neighborhood kids” piped Ethan through a mouthful of his second gingersnap.

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“We’ve got a huge game of hide-and-seek going throughout the neighborhood,
an’ it’s the best when it’s just getting dark and the shadows are spookin’ out at
you!”
“Ooooh, very spooky, I love it!” Maura said. “Just after sunset when the
sky is lit up with re but the darkness is just starting to creep in, it’s the perfect
time for hiding!” Maura took a sip of her tea, and turned her attention to the
bright middle sister. “Now how about you, Gwen dear? You haven’t fessed up
to the wicked deeds you’re up to this weekend.”
Gwen turned a bit red, and looked down at her soup. “Oh not much,
Sara na is supposed to come over so we can play in my room and stay up
watching some movies and having popcorn.” There was obviously more to this
story but surprisingly, Zoey and Maura let this go without pushing any further.
Gwen and her friend had actually been working on a surveillance app using her
parents’ old iPhones – they had concocted a scheme to spy on Zoey’s
conversations in her room so they could use them to blackmail her later when
they really wanted to.
“Ooh, I just adore this weather,” Maura sighed. “Don’t you think that
this is absolutely the most gorgeous time of year? It always reminds me of the
old tales of the harvest season, of cozy res and apple cider, and of creepy ghouls
and goblins hiding in the darkness.” She couldn’t help giggling at herself.
The girls slurped their soup as Gwen slipped a quick grin at Ethan; they
always delighted in the anticipation when they knew one of Maura’s stories was
about to begin.

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 She had always been a captivating weaver of stories. The children would
easily nd themselves lost in the worlds spun out before them, and she made it
feel as if she had truly been there, had lived through this story and was telling
them something very personal and exciting.
The sun sank lower in the pale blue sky, and the shadows lengthened as
Maura began her tale.
“There once was a place where a dark castle sat crooked and lonely on the
very top of a mountain, overlooking the land below for as far as the eye can see.
The king of this castle was known as the Lord of Shadows, and it was said that
he had been imprisoned there for many, many years. One day, Anansi the spider
decided to play a trick on the king. . .”

It was nearly dark as the children walked back in the front door, hoping
they made it home before having to hear another one of their mother’s lectures
about being out too late and not being home in time for dinner. Luckily there
was a note on the table that read, “Be back with pizza, please walk Roxie.” Zoey
and Gwen looked at each other and smiled mischievously.
“Come on Rox!” Zoey called. “Come on, let’s play outside!” They ran
out to the backyard and the dog chased them, her tail wagging frantically.
This was an evening ritual, the boundless energy of the three children
running around the open backyard and chasing the aging black mutt of a lab
around until one of them ended up tackling the others into a heap of laughter.

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 Out front they heard a car pull up and doors close. Their mother’s voice
carried out from an open window, “Hey guys, we’re home!”
“Hi Mom, hi Dad!” Zoey yelled, as Ethan dove at Roxie and missed.
Gwen bent over, red-faced and laughing as Roxie bounded forward and
snatched the dog toy from her hand. Gwen took o after her as the black lab
dodged one way and then the other, deftly swerving to elude the chasing
children and pausing every once in a while to draw them in closer, only to dart
o again in another direction.

In the dark shadows between their house and the next, the Pale Stranger
watched, hidden. His worn and tattered clothing looked out of place here, the
faded scarlets, crimsons, and lthy blacks of his suit looked old, and ancient. As
he crouched and shifted on bandy legs he giggled to himself. Underneath the
dark burgundy brim of his shabby and frayed top hat, his greasy hair ran in
snarls and knots.
He had been awaiting this moment; for the shadow of night to slowly
descend upon the peaceful neighborhood, and to conceal his deeds in darkness.

After ten minutes of running around, the children lay panting on the
grass next to Roxie, with her tongue lolling out onto the ground and her tail
giving an exhausted wag every now and again. The smell of pizza had wafted its
way out onto the porch, and their stomachs began to growl. Gwen was about to

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start getting up when Roxie’s head suddenly jumped up, focused and alert, her
ears perked up as though straining to listen. She took o running up to the
house.
Zoey and Gwen looked at each other, puzzled. They made their way up
through the porch door towards the smell of pizza when Zoey realized that the
house was unusually quiet. Usually their parents were bustling around the
house when they got home from work, getting dinner ready and changing out
of their work clothes. During their game of chase outside, they hadn’t noticed
exactly when things had gotten this quiet.
“Mom?” Ethan called, hesitantly. “Dad?” He gured they must be in the
bathroom, or back in their bedroom. They all stood silently, straining to listen
to the house. The silence began to swell, until it began to ring in their ears.
“Dad, this isn’t funny!” Gwen called, trying to sound brave. “Where are
you guys?” The house remained still, and worry began to creep into Gwen like
an uncomfortable prickling heat seeping into her skin. She looked at Zoey, and
was relieved to see that her sister seemed to be just as concerned as she was. The
pizza box lay open on the table. Some plates had been set out, but it looked as if
someone had not nished. Gwen tried to calm herself, but she just could not
shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Roxie began to whine and paw at the front door. The children ignored
her as they began to walk through the house, looking in all the rooms and
opening doors. Their parents often hid on them as a prank, and had gotten

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pretty good at it over the years. But that’s not what it felt like this time. Roxie
continued to whine.
Zoey stood in the center of the kitchen, feeling the room begin to swirl
around her. What was going on? Their parents were just here, now where were
they? Why won’t the dog shut up, already? Gwen walked over to the front door
to let Roxie out, when their old tabby cat Chevy jumped out of the closet and
ran out the front door. Roxie immediately took o , chasing the cat into the
darkness.
“Chevy, NO!” Zoey yelled, and she tore after them out the front door.
“Roxie, COME!” called Ethan from behind her as the three of them
raced after their pets into the darkening street. Roxie ignored them as she
usually did when she was o leash, but Chevy seemed to stop in the middle of
the street half a block away.
“Get outta the road, Chev! “ Zoey pleaded. “Come on, Bubba! Here
Chev! Come on, Chevy!” The black dog had caught up with Chevy and began
sni ng the ground. She immediately took o down the street, and Zoey let out
a groan of frustration. Thankfully, Chevy seemed to follow in the same
direction as the dog.
It seemed that whenever they began to get close to one of the animals, it
would take o further away from them. However, instead of running through
yards, hiding in bushes, and generally turning the chase into a chaotic animal
roundup, Roxie and Chevy seemed to almost have a destination in mind. It was
almost as if they were beckoning the three children to follow them.

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 They led them all the way down past the quieting streets of their
neighborhood, past the lake, and onto the same dirt road they had just come
from earlier that afternoon. In the cold October darkness, the canopy of trees
no longer seemed playful and welcoming. The darkened trees were now sinister,
as if the bare tree limbs were leering at them, the wind aiding the illusion with
movement. Three crows were sitting on a low branch, watching them as they
passed.
The cold nipped at the children, and they held themselves tightly as they
ran. Gwen and Ethan had never run this far in their lives, and Gwen was
beginning to wonder when this would ever end. They could barely see now, as
the dense tree cover blotted out even the stars. Ethan stopped to catch his
breath, and to listen. The sounds of the woods were all around, the rustling of
dead leaves and the crackling of old limbs in the darkness. He immediately took
o after his sisters, wanting to be anywhere other than left behind on this old,
deserted road.
Light began to peek through the woods out ahead and to their right. As
they drew closer, they could see the faint lights from Maura’s house. Zoey let
out a gasp of gratitude, and looked back over her shoulder to make sure Gwen
and Ethan were still with her. They ran down the driveway together, toward the
welcome refuge of the cottage.
When they got to the front steps, they were astonished to nd both
Roxie and Chevy on the front landing, pawing at the door.

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 “What. . . the heck. . . is your problem, you two?” Gwen panted bitterly.
She knocked on the door and bent down gasping for breath, her hands on her
knees.
No one came to the door.

22
 Chapter 3

Zoey knocked again, a thrum of worry rising up inside of her. They

waited there at the door, glancing at each other in confusion. “Zoey,” Gwen
pleaded, “What is going on? Where’s Mom and Dad? I don’t like this!”
Ethan was peppering her with questions at the same time. “What is
going on with Rox and Chev? Where is Maura, and why isn’t she answering?”
“I don’t know, you guys!” Zoey reached out and hesitantly tried the knob,
and the door slowly opened. This was not wholly unexpected, as people in small
towns all over northern Michigan rarely locked their doors. As the door swung
open, Chevy and Roxie bolted inside. The children gingerly stepped in after
them.
“Hello?” Gwen called. “Maura? Are you in here?” They strained their
ears to listen for her.
“Maybe she’s in the bathroom,” Ethan suggested.
“Maybe she already went to bed and fell asleep?” Zoey said in what she
knew was a ridiculous e ort to sound hopeful.
Ethan looked at her. “Then why are all the lights on, huh Zoey?”
Roxie started barking, which startled them all. She was barking at
something inside the cottage, but they couldn’t gure out exactly what she was
barking at. The uneasiness that had been creeping all around them was

23
threatening to wash over them and sweep them out to sea, and Zoey fought
hard to keep it at bay. Initially she had felt a small sense of relief when they had
arrived at Aunt Maura’s house. Maura was an adult, she would know what to
do. But now she was nowhere to be seen. She had vanished just as suddenly and
inexplicably as their parents had.
The house looked much as it had when they had left it earlier in the day.
In fact, the dishes were still on the table from when they had enjoyed Aunt
Maura’s soup and sandwiches. The re was burning low in the replace, and
most of the candles were still lit along the walls, their ickers casting playful
shadows across the room.
The three children stayed together; none of them wanted to be left alone
even for a minute. They checked the bathroom, but the door was open and it
was obvious that the room was empty. Roxie continued to bark at nothing,
setting their frayed nerves even more on edge.
“We gotta check upstairs,” Ethan said, trying to sound braver than he felt.
That was the last thing Zoey wanted to do. As the older sister however,
she couldn’t stand having Ethan be the brave one to take charge. Summoning
her courage, she took Gwen’s hand and said, “It’ll be alright, guys. Let’s go
check it out.”
The three of them slowly made their way up the skinny, creaky steps,
dreading what may be waiting for them. Roxie continued to bark from down
below. “Roxie, cut it out!” Gwen yelled, and it felt good. Yelling at something
frustrating and annoying felt better than being scared.

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 As they reached the landing and looked into Maura’s room, the lights
were on and it looked as if Maura would stride back in from the next room at
any moment. The bed was made, and there were a few clothes lying on the
chair. The trunk at the foot of the bed was open, and her book was on the
nightstand. They checked the guest bedroom as well, but still there was no one
to be found. Roxie’s barking continued from downstairs.
As they made their way back down the stairs and past the rows upon
rows of books lining the walls, they turned right into the sitting room to nd
Chevy sitting against the wall, staring at the children intently. Roxie was right
behind him, and she let out one last short, sharp bark when the children walked
into the room. They looked around the room for any sign, but it looked almost
exactly as they had left it earlier. The re was still smoldering in the replace.
“Hey, look at this.” Gwen beckoned. Next to Maura’s worn old armchair
there was a book opened and facedown, as if it had been placed there in a hurry
and Maura didn’t want to lose her page. There was even a cup of tea next to the
book, and as Gwen dipped her little nger into it she felt her stomach tighten in
alarm.
“Zoey, it’s still a little warm.”
The armchair was in the back corner of the house, and as Zoey looked
towards the front of the house she tried to focus on anything that might be out
of place, any clue as to what was wrong here. The organized untidiness of the
house made her feel like things were spinning out of control, as she searched for
something to stand out among the clutter. The house looked lived in, and alive.

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 Ethan was walking along the wall of books in the back hallway when
Zoey’s eye was drawn to something, it caught on something just out of place.
One of the books on the shelf was sticking out further than all the others.
Maura’s books were not necessarily tidy or organized (at least not to the
untrained eye), but as Zoey’s gaze fell upon this book, Chevy reached up and
pawed it gently. Zoey stopped moving, and stared at Chevy with a puzzled look.
She noticed that Roxie and Chevy had both been sitting directly in front of this
book, staring at the children imploringly.
“What’s up, Zoey?” Gwen whispered. “What is it?” Almost in answer,
Roxie barked sharply directly at them, and Chevy again pawed the book that
had been sticking out.
The three children looked at each other, and then back at the animals as if
looking at a new breed of ying rabbits. What in the world was going on? Gwen
took a tentative few steps toward the animals, and peered over to look at the
book. It had been sticking out as if someone had just ipped through it, and
replaced it hastily without much thought or intention. “Hey, I think I saw this
book earlier today,” she said. It was a very old looking book, with a cover of
worn green fabric and dull gold lettering along the spine. It had been adorned
with a symbol that looked like a simple triangle underneath two circles
overlapping one another slightly.
Zoey and Ethan had come over to look at the book on the shelf as well. As
Zoey saw the writing on the spine, it somehow reminded her of something she’s
seen before. But that couldn’t be, the words weren’t in English.

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 “Fin du Monde,” she whispered as she read the words on the cover, and as
she did so the candles throughout the room all ickered and dimmed at once, as
if a strong wind outside had just sent a gust through the house. Gwen grabbed
Ethan and held him close, their hearts racing with adrenaline and uneasiness.
“What was that?” Ethan asked. “What did you do?”
“I just read the title, that’s all, I swear! I didn’t even touch it! There’s
something weird about this book, you guys,” Zoey answered, trying to get a
handle on her racing nerves. “I think we’re supposed to do something with it.”
“No! Don’t open it!” Gwen cried.
The children looked at each other, and then at the animals, as if looking
for a sign of instruction. Almost at once, Roxie nudged the book with her furry
head, and then shoved her muzzle into Zoey’s hand. She stood back and looked
at them expectantly.
The children all looked at each other, hoping one of them would nd
some other answer, some logical explanation for what was happening and what
they should do next.
Ethan shook his head and rubbed at his eyes, trying to clear his mind. He
breathed deeply and exhaled, calming his breathing, and in a moment he
opened his eyes and they were clear. He reached out and pulled the book o of
the shelf.
With that one simple movement, their rm grasp of the known world as
they knew it was suddenly shaken loose like a sail unfurled in a forceful wind.
The candles ickered again, painting the room with disorienting ickers of

27
light and shadow. A pale light shone through the empty space on the bookshelf
where the book had been, and Zoey heard an audible click as a small section of
the bookshelf swung slightly inwards, as if on a hinge. The children looked at
each other in silent astonishment. Carefully, Zoey pushed the bookshelf and it
slowly swung open, revealing a dark tunnel of rugged, damp rock. The door
continued to open, and they realized they were looking into a sort of rocky cave
that led upwards toward a pale, cloudy sky. A loud, rushing noise was churning
outside the cave, and a cool wind was blowing a distinct briny, dank breeze
throughout the tunnel.
Before the children could understand what was happening, Roxie and
Chevy sped o through the bookshelf, scampering through the cave and
disappearing out of the entrance.
“Roxie, No!” Ethan shouted after her and took o through the cave,
leaving Zoey and Gwen no choice but to chase after their little brother. They
scrambled through the rough, jagged cave, having to choose their footing
carefully as the jutting outcroppings were slick and wet. The loud roaring sound
was almost deafening as it reverberated through the cave, growing louder as they
approached the entrance. Zoey looked up and saw Ethan reach the cave’s
opening and immediately stop dead in his tracks, his dark gure silhouetted
against the pale sky. Already tired and breathing heavily, Zoey and Gwen caught
up to him at the entrance of the cave, and the three of them stared in stunned
silence as the loud rush of noise crashed around their ears, overwhelming them.

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The three of them stood there, breathless, unable to comprehend the sight that
met them at the entrance of the cave.
Before them was a coastline, stretching for miles upon miles and rising up
into green mist-covered mountains to their right. The seashore of dark, wet sand
was broken by beautiful outcroppings of jagged rock, which were being
relentlessly pounded by the waves of this unknown ocean. The children stood
trans xed, breathing in the salty air of the sea and staring o along the coast,
unsure how to accept this scene as part of the known world they had just come
from. It had just been dark as they ran through their neighborhood on their way
here, and they were relatively sure that there wasn’t usually an ocean in the
forest behind Maura’s house.
The thought of Roxie and Chevy running wild in this wide-open
landscape suddenly snapped Zoey back from her daze. She looked around
frantically, searching for the big black dog and the gray tabby cat. She called
their names, but the wind and the pounding surf whipped her words away from
her as soon as they escaped her mouth. Where could they have gone? Her heart
was thumping in her chest, when suddenly Ethan shot out of the cave and onto
the beach.
Zoey jumped after him and grabbed his sweatshirt from behind. “Ethan,
no! Where do you think you’re going?” She yelled, her anger belying her fear
that she might lose her brother just as easily as she had lost both of her parents,
and now their pets as well.

29
 “The footprints, Zoey!” Ethan yelled back over the pounding surf. “We
gotta follow the footprints! It’s our only chance to nd ‘em, we can’t lose Roxie
and Chev too!” Zoey and Gwen looked down and saw the tracks left by the dog
and cat, leading up into the tall waving grass at the top of the beach. The
children ran after them, keeping a close eye on where the tracks were leading
them.
Once they were in the long, dry beach grass they completely lost sight of
the animal tracks. The land rose up to a small ridge, and they ran as fast as they
could toward the top to see if the dog and cat were somewhere on the other
side. As they reached the top of the ridge, they looked over and saw that they
were on the edge of a small coastal village. Stopping to catch their breath, they
stared at the bustling little town before them. There were streets anked by cozy
buildings of aged cedar shake, with windswept coastal evergreen trees growing
in stubborn beautiful poses as they made their stand against the coastal winds.
Pu s of smoke billowed from crooked, twisting chimney pipes, as horses and
people milled about the streets.
“Where are we?” whispered Gwen, with a mixture of awe and fear.
“This is the town of Grim’s End, on the southwestern coast of Fin du
Monde,” said a voice. The three of them jumped in surprise and quickly looked
around, but to their confusion there was no one there; the voice seemed to
come from the land itself. There was a swish of grass at their feet, and Chevy the
old gray cat walked up to them and rubbed his ank against Zoey’s leg as if he
had simply been waiting for them all along. He dug his toes into the sand, and

30
stretched himself out as if just awakening from a nap. As he straightened up to
look at them, he said “We were hoping you would never have to see this place.”
The children’s mouths dropped open in disbelief. It just couldn’t be
possible. They looked at each other and back at the cat; he was looking back up
at them with his ears turned sideways in annoyance.
“You heard me correctly, Miss Zoey, Miss Gwen, and Master Ethan,”
Chevy said in response to their shocked silence. “We are now standing on a
beach, on the coast of Fin du Monde, and there will be time for your questions
later. Right now, we need to get moving if we have any hope of nding your
parents.”
As he looked over his shoulder, Roxie rumbled out of the tall grass with
her nose intently sni ng the ground. She ran a quick circle around them before
running o again in the direction of the town. After a few steps she stopped,
turned around and gave them an imploring look of concern mixed with canine
desperation. She let out a sharp bark that sounded suspiciously like “Come!”,
and the children followed after her, bewildered.

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