Free Library of Souls by Ransom Riggs Page B

drat,
drat
” while the man’s breath swirled around us, merging with the murk and reducing our visibility to nothing. Within a few seconds the man, the bridge he stood on, and the banks on either side of us had all been blotted out.
    I uncovered my head (no one could see us now anyway) and said quietly, “When you said this stuff was man-made, I thought youmeant by smokestacks, not literally—”
    â€œOh, wow,” Emma said, uncovering herself. “What’s it for?”
    â€œThe vultures will murk an area to cloak their activities,” Sharon said, “and to blind their prey. Fortunately for you, I am not easily preyed upon.” And he drew his long staff from the water, passed it over our heads, and used it to tap the wooden eyeball at the bow of his boat. The eyeball began to glow like a fog lamp, piercing the murk before us. Then he returned his staff to the water and, leaning heavily on it, spun the boat in a slow circle, sweeping the water around us with his light.
    â€œBut if they’re making this,” said Emma, “then they’re peculiar, aren’t they? And if they’re peculiar, perhaps they’re friendly.”
    â€œThe pure of heart don’t end up as ditch pirates,” said Sharon, and then he stopped the turning boat as our light fixed upon another approaching vessel. “Speak of the devil.”
    We could see them clearly enough, but for now all they would see of us was a glary bloom of light. It wasn’t much of an advantage, but at least it allowed us to size them up before we had to retreat beneath the tarp. They were two men in a boat about twice the size of our own. The first man was operating a nearly silent outboard motor, and the second held a club.
    â€œIf they’re so dangerous,” I whispered, “why are we just waiting for them?”
    â€œWe’re too deep inside the Acre to escape them now, and I can most likely talk us out of this.”
    â€œAnd if you can’t?” said Emma.
    â€œYou may have to swim for it.”
    Emma glanced at the oily black water and said, “I’d rather die.”
    â€œThat’s your choice. Now, I recommend you disappear, children, and don’t move a muscle under there.”
    We drew the tarp over our heads again. A moment later, a hearty voice called out, “Ho, there, boatman!”
    â€œHo, there,” replied Sharon.
    I heard oars drag the water, and then felt a jolt as the other boat knocked against ours.
    â€œWhat’s your business here?”
    â€œMerely out for a pleasure cruise,” Sharon said lightly.
    â€œAnd a fine day for it!” the man replied, laughing.
    The second man wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “Wot’s undah the rag?” he growled, his accent nearly impenetrable.
    â€œWhat I carry on my boat is my own business.”
    â€œInnithin passes through Fever Ditch s’
our
business.”
    â€œOld ropes and bric-a-brac, if you must know,” said Sharon. “Nothing of interest.”
    â€œThen you won’t mind us having a look,” said the first man.
    â€œWhat about our arrangement? Haven’t I paid you this month?”
    â€œHen’t no arrangement nummore,” said the second. “Wights are payin’ five times the goin’ rate fer nice plump feeders. Any as lets a feeder slip away … it’s the pit, or worse.”
    â€œWhat could be worse than the pit?” said the first.
    â€œI dun inten’ t’fineout.”
    â€œNow gentlemen, be reasonable,” said Sharon. “Perhaps it’s time to renegotiate. I can offer terms competitive with anyone …”
    Feeders
. I shivered despite a clammy warmth building under the tarp from Emma’s quickly heating hands. I hoped she wouldn’t need to use them, but the men weren’t budging, and I feared the boatman’s blabber would stall them only so long. A fight would mean