Ethan woke to the sound of crashing dishes in the next room. He sat up in bed, listening to the voices of his sister, Elspeth, and their benefactor, Mr. Howinger beyond his door. “You call this a meal?” Mr. Howinger complained. “I’ve told you a thousand times, I like my eggs runny. You’d think, after all this time living on my farm, you could get it right.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Howinger,” Elspeth said.
“Why I ever agreed to take you two in is beyond me,” Mr. Howinger continued.
Ethan twisted the sheet around his fists, his knuckles turning white.
“We are grateful to you, Mr. Howinger,” Elspeth said. Ethan heard his sister start gathering broken pieces of dishware off the floor.
“Grateful? Ha! I’ve been putting up with your stale cooking and your brother’s laziness for nine years now-”
Laziness! Ethan fumed, but he remained in his room.
“-if only my Ethel was still alive,” Mr. Howinger moaned.
“I’m sure she was lovely,” Elspeth said. “You must have loved her very much.”
Ethan heard: a chair scoot across the floor, a cup hit the tabletop, boot steps, then the front door slamming.
As Ethan opened the door to his room, he saw part of Howinger’s breakfast lying on the wood floor and his sister trying to clean it up. The plate lay broken, and the cup tilted to one side on the table. Ethan noticed Mr. Howinger had barely left any of the food. Only the fragments of the dirty plate remained for her to clean.
Ethan knelt down in the floor with his sister. He began picking up some of the pieces of the shattered plate. “I wish he would just leave you alone,” Ethan said.
“I’m all right. Now don’t fuss over this mess. I’ll take care of it.” She took the pottery pieces from his hand and hurried to clean the rest of the mess up.
Ethan patted his sister on the back between her shoulders. Elspeth winced. Ethan withdrew his hand quickly. His anger kindled. He stood and marched toward the door with Elspeth on his heels. Ethan had hardly crossed the threshold before she caught him, pleading for him not to say anything. “I’m all right, Ethan.”
“All right? He’s whipped you! I’m putting a stop to this once and for all.”
“No!” she insisted. “We need a place to live. I’m not going to have you living on the streets. I promised Mother I would take care of you and that’s what I’ll do.” The look in her eyes made him back down.
“I’m sorry, Elspeth. I don’t want to upset you more,” Ethan said.
“Ethan, Mr. Howinger, is a good man at heart, only troubled.”
“You mean he troubles us,” Ethan spat.
“It’s better treatment than you would get from Mordred,” she whispered.
“Mordred doesn’t care about us.”
Elspeth stared into his eyes, searching them. “Have you forgotten our mother and father-the people of Salem? He wanted all of us dead for a reason.”
Ethan blinked, taken in the memory of a night long ago. He blinked, returning. “Sister, we must forget, or it will drive us mad. Mordred took the House of Nod and the whole kingdom with it. We’re of no consequence to him now, no matter why Salem was before.”
Elspeth caressed his cheek. “We must never forget.”
She turned and started back into the house to finish cleaning up the spill. “Ethan, go to your chores and don’t worry me with your temper. If you love me, then you’ll do what I say.”
He watched her go inside. Ethan breathed out his frustration, letting go of the anger. He started toward the horse barn. “I won’t forget, sister.”
Horace Howinger stood just behind the inside wall of his large, green barn. The door was open and he had heard the exchange between Ethan and his sister. Horace gripped the axe tightly in both hands, waiting to see if there would be a confrontation.
Horace listened as the girl talked Ethan out of a rage again. Relieved, his grip on the axe loosened. The girl went back inside while Ethan ran off to the animal stalls to do his chores. He knew the boy was too big now to deal with physically. Horace needed a way to get rid of him, but keep the girl. He wiped beads of sweat from his stubbly upper lip and set the axe aside. His hired hands would arrive soon from town. It was time to tend the day’s work.