Read Online Lost Children of the Far Islands by Emily Raabe - Free Book Online

craziness. It was too much. Gus was angry and frustrated. And she had to admit, she was curious too. Even as she was thinking this, she slid into sleep, an uneasy, shallow sleep populated with wolves and schools of frightened fish and the unending sound of the sea in her ears.
    Gus woke with a start. Her father was reaching over her to unhitch her seatbelt. “Let’s go, everybody,” he said.
    “Are we there?” Leo asked sleepily.
    “No,” their father said as he scooped up Ila, who was clearly unhappy at being uprooted. “We’re going to stay here tonight and finish the drive in the morning.”
    They were in a dirt parking lot. In front of them was a small green building made of wood, with a front porch on which there sat a rocking chair. Behind the little house, in a semicircle set back almost to the woods, sat more cabins, each with a porch light shining into the deep night. A sign on the door said
Ring bell on the right
.
    Their father rang the bell, tentatively at first, and then with more force. After some time, a woman came to the door. Her face, which was pinched with sleep and irritation at being awakened, softened when she saw Mr. Brennan with Ila sleeping in his arms.
    “Late night for such little ones,” she said sympathetically. “Well, come on in and I’ll get you a key.”
    They followed her into the small office. Something moved in the corner and a large black dog unfolded itself from a blanket on the floor. It came to Gus and pressed its nose into the backs of her legs. She patted its head absently while she leaned her other arm on the counter. The dog took a long, luxurious sniff, and then suddenly his whole body stiffened and he backed away from Gus, growling.
    “What is it?” Gus said, reaching her hand out to the dog. He crouched against the far wall, alternately growling and barking, his hackles raised all along his back.
    “It’s OK, boy,” Leo said, stepping toward the dog. The dog crouched and whined in fear and then began barking again, high and shrill and sharp.
    “Charlie!” the woman shouted. “Charlie!” But the panicked dog ignored her.
    “Stay back, Gus,” their father said. “You too, Leo. Give him space.”
    The woman came around the counter and dragged the still-barking dog outside by his collar, shutting the door behind her. She was back a minute later.
    “Well, goodness me,” she said to Gus. “Whatever did you do to that dog?”
    “I didn’t do anything,” Gus said indignantly.
    “I’m just teasing you, love,” the woman said. “But honest to God, I haven’t seen him like that in fifteen years. I didn’t know he could still bark. Must have something on your clothes, I guess.”
    Gus’s father shot her a look that said
Behave
.
    “Fine,” she muttered. “But I didn’t do anything.”
    “One night, please,” their father said. “We’ll pay cash.” In the ledger, he wrote the name
Will James
in a strong, round hand totally unlike his usual scrawl.
    “OK, Mr. James,” the woman said. “You can have cabin eight. It’s just out back of here—pull right up to the door.”
    “Thank you,” he said. “It has been a long day.”
    He sounded totally normal—not like someone who had just signed a fake name on a ledger at a motel in the middle of nowhere, Gus thought sourly. They followed him to the car, pulled out their backpacks, and stumbled into cabin eight.
    Their father carried Ila into the tiny bedroom where the three children would sleep. The cabin smelled like wet swimsuits left too long in a bag. Gus and Leo sat yawning on the couch, which was covered in a hairy plaid material. Their father came back out.
    “Off to bed,” he said. “You can sleep in your clothes. We’ll get an early start.”
    As she slid between the chilly sheets, Gus could see their father through the half-open bedroom door, standing in the hallway. Guarding them, she thought.
    “Gus,” Leo whispered. “How late do you think it is?”
    “I don’t know. Past