The Unready Queen, стр. 7

Evie’s father greeted Hill with a handshake.

Evie waved to Annie and the boys. “Hi, Mrs. Burton,” she said. “Hi, guys.”

“Hey, Evie,” said Cole.

“Hello, hi, howdy, hi,” said Tinn, and then immediately wished he hadn’t said anything. His tongue felt enormous.

“Lots to do today, Oliver,” Hill was saying behind them. “Lots to do! All hands on deck. We’ll be rolling up our sleeves to get that field clear. Might even recruit your little Evie by the end of the week.”

Evie giggled. “Pretty sure I wouldn’t be much help clearing a field.” She looked down at herself as if presenting evidence. Evie was small—smaller than all the other kids in her class and most of the ones several grades younger. She had been to a doctor in New Fiddleham who said she wasn’t ever going to get much taller.

“Hey, now.” Hill gave her a wink. “I’ve never been the biggest or the strongest either, kid. But I’ve always been a people person. That’s what my old man taught me. People are stronger together, he used to say. So make friends. Turn their strengths into your strength. That’s the secret. It means I get to recruit fine folks like your daddy and we both come out better for it in the end. Isn’t that right, Oliver?”

“That’s right, Mr. Hill.” Oliver nodded.

“Speaking of making friends,” Annie said, “all of you should be getting inside with the other kids now.”

“Ah, right,” said Oliver Warner. “Have a good day at school, Evie. Remember that Uncle Jim is going to be picking you up today. Your mama won’t be back from her sister’s for a few weeks yet, and I’ll be working late with Mr. Hill.”

“I remember. Love you, Daddy.”

Children were filing into the schoolhouse, and Mrs. Silva had stepped outside to greet the class and shepherd the stragglers indoors.

“Off you go, boys,” said Annie. “Have a good day, Evie.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Burton,” said Evie. “You, too!”

The bell clanged as the kids slipped inside the classroom.

“Your uncle’s Jim Warner?” Cole said, sidling up to Evie.

“My great uncle.” Evie nodded. “Yup.”

“Wait, as in OldJim?” said Tinn.

“The one with the apple orchard out by the edge of town?” added Cole.

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“I didn’t know Old Jim was your uncle!” said Cole. “How weird is that!”

Evie shrugged. “He’s pretty fun.”

“Fun?” said Tinn. “Old Jim is fun?”

“Sure. He’s got all kindsa stories about the Wild Wood. There’s tons of creepy stuff out there. You guys have no idea.”

Tinn and Cole shared a knowing glance.

“My parents usually make him stop right when he’s getting to the best parts about body parts, or gushing blood, or monsters melting people with their spit,” Evie continued, “but Mom’s been away for a few weeks and Dad’s been busy, so I’ve been spending more time at Uncle Jim’s lately, and he’s been telling all his stories extra gross, just for me. It’s been fantastic.”

“Whoa,” said Tinn.

“Nice,” said Cole.

“If you want, I’ll tell you some of the best ones during recess.”

Tinn grinned broadly as they walked up the aisle to their seats.

For the first time in a long time, Tinn felt happy. Ever since he was a baby, the story had hung over his head. Goblins tried to steal the Burton boy and replace him with a changeling, people said, but the goblins failed. The human and the monster got left together, except nobody could tell which was which—so poor Annie Burton had raised them both as brothers. One of the boys was a wicked thing. One of them was a parasite. One of them did not belong.Tinn had spent his whole life secretly worrying that he was the one. And then the answer had come.

It had been more than a month since their adventure in the Wild Wood, since Tinn had almost drowned in the murky Oddmire and nearly died in the Deep Dark. It had been more than a month since he had learned the terrible truth: that he was a goblin changeling and not a real boy at all. His whole world had been pulled out from under him—except his family had been there to catch him as he fell. His brother and mother had come back for him. They had stayed for him. Fought for him. And just like that, the nightmare had been over.

Now he was following Evie Warner up a row of beautifully boring wooden desks like none of it had ever happened. Tinn had come so close to losing everything and everybody he had known his whole life—he couldn’t help but feel a bit giddy now that everything was back to normal. Better than normal.

A year ago, he could barely speak to Evie, but now—okay, he still had trouble stringing together more than a few words without stumbling all over them. But she was saying more to him lately, and Tinn could not have been happier about that.

He slid into the desk between Evie and Cole, right at the front of the room. He and his brother usually sat toward the back, out of sight, as unnoticed as possible until the bell rang and they hurried outside. Last week, however, Evie had invited them to sit near her. She always sat at the very front because she had trouble seeing the blackboard over the other students. Evie didn’t hide herself away at the back of the room. This year, Tinn had decided to stop hiding, too.

Tinn had spent his whole life worrying that he was a freak. Somehow, finding out that it was true had made him more comfortable in his own skin than he had been when he didn’t know. He could do this. He could be a regular kid.

The inkwell at the head of his desk had been slightly overfilled, and it sloshed as Tinn clambered into his seat. A drop of rich black india ink dripped down the side of the well.

“Whoops.” Tinn wiped at the ink absently with his fingers before it