Read Online Library of Souls by Ransom Riggs - Free Book Online

hurts,” she said.
    â€œBut if she were free, wouldn’t she have contacted us somehow? And if
he
were involved,” I said quietly, nodding towardAddison, “wouldn’t he have mentioned it by now?”
    â€œNot if he’s sworn to secrecy. Perhaps it’s too dangerous to tell anyone, even us. If we knew Miss Peregrine’s whereabouts, and someone
knew
we knew, we might break under torture …”
    â€œAnd he wouldn’t?” I said a little too loudly, and the dog looked up at us, his cheeks ballooning and tongue flapping ridiculously as the wind caught them. “Ho, there!” he cried. “I’ve counted fifty-six fish already, though one or two might’ve been bits of half-submerged rubbish. What are you two whispering about?”
    â€œOh, nothing,” said Emma.
    â€œSomehow I doubt that,” he muttered, but his suspicion was quickly overwhelmed by his instincts, and a second later he yelped, “Fish!” and his attention lasered back to the water. “Fish … fish … rubbish … fish …”
    Emma laughed darkly. “It’s a completely mad idea, I know. But my brain is a hope-making engine.”
    â€œI’m so glad,” I said. “Mine is a worst-case-scenario generator.”
    â€œWe need each other, then.”
    â€œYes. But we already knew that, I think.”
    The boat’s steady heaving pushed us together and apart, together and apart.
    â€œSure you wouldn’t rather go on the romantic cruise?” Sharon said. “It isn’t too late.”
    â€œVery sure,” I said. “We’re on a mission.”
    â€œThen I suggest you open the box you’re sitting on. You’re going to need what’s inside when we cross over.”
    We opened the bench’s hinged top to find a large canvas tarp.
    â€œWhat’s this for?” I said.
    â€œCowering beneath,” Sharon replied, and he turned the boat down an even narrower canal lined with new, expensive-looking condos. “I’ve been able to keep you hidden from view thus far, but the protection I can offer doesn’t work inside the Acre—and unsavorycharacters tend to keep watch for easy prey ’round the entrance. And you are most certainly easy prey.”
    â€œI
knew
you were up to something,” I said. “Not a single tourist so much as glanced at us.”
    â€œIt’s safer to watch historical atrocities being committed when the participants aren’t able to watch you back,” he said. “Can’t have my customers being carried off by Viking raiders, can I? Imagine the user reviews!”
    We were fast approaching a sort of tunnel—a bridged-over stretch of canal, perhaps a hundred feet long, atop which hulked a building like a warehouse or an old mill. From the far end shone a half circle of blue sky and sparkling water. Between here and there was only darkness. It looked as much like a loop entrance as anyplace I’d seen.
    We heaved out the enormous tarp, which filled half the boat. Emma lay down beside me and we wriggled beneath it, drawing the edge up to our chins like bedsheets. As the boat glided beneath the bridge into shadow, Sharon cut the motor and hid it beneath another, smaller tarp. Then he stood and extended a collapsible staff, plunged it into the water until it touched bottom, and began poling us forward in long, silent strokes.
    â€œBy the way,” Emma said, “what sort of ‘unsavory characters’ are we hiding from? Wights?”
    â€œThere’s more evil in peculiardom than merely your hated wights,” Sharon said, his voice echoing through the stone tunnel. “An opportunist disguised as a friend can be every bit as dangerous as an outright enemy.”
    Emma sighed. “Must you always be so vague?”
    â€œYour heads!” he snapped. “You too, dog.”
    Addison snuffled beneath the tarp, and