"Oh, he truly is the most dreadful boy I've ever met!" Margot shouted, slapping her hands over her ears to block out Hugo's noise. "Hit his off button, won't you?!"

Yvonne shooed the wretched bird away, then wrapped her brother up in her arms. "Hush, Hugo, hush. It's gone, I swear! Open your eyes and see for yourself."

It was a peculiar sight, such a large boy quaking in fear of a bird. After some time, his screams quieted to wails, which then dissipated into whimpers against his sister's neck. She had always been there to protect him, and as she cradled Hugo close, she was reminded just how high the stakes were. She couldn't lose her brother—not to any strangers attempting to steal him away, or to his own deranged mind.

"What in Eldritch was that?" Agnes questioned, eyeing the boy apprehensively. She was beginning to reconsider taking up Yvonne on her offer. She reminded herself again that this was all for Bogart. That was all that kept her from backing away slowly and power walking far from the bizarre trio of children—though she still had hopes of ditching Margot at some point.

"It's the creatures," Yvonne explained, avoiding the word "bird" again for obvious reasons. "He believes they watch him. It's a side effect of his illness. When they're around, he is so much worse."

"Have you considered a mercy killing?" Margot asked innocently. At least, she seemed sincere by her intonation. "To me, the effort of getting the cure might not be worth his life."

Yvonne addressed Agnes, genuinely curious. "How are you friends with her?"

Both Agnes and Margot answered: "We're not."

But Agnes had more to say. "There are still things I have questions about. Like, why bring Hugo along with you at all? You said you have a home. Why not just leave him there for his protection?"

"And you must explain the bird thing more," Margot argued. "He nearly scared it half to death! Poor raven."

"Crow," Agnes corrected.

"Yes, yes, I can explain all of that and more, but can we please do it as we walk?" Yvonne pleaded. "I've wasted too much time already. My brother needs his medicine, now!"

Agnes thought everything through. Margot rolled her eyes, indifferent to the whole thing. Hugo was still stabilizing, his eyes finally drying of any tears. Yvonne had no choice but to wait, growing more impatient with every passing second.

"Fine," young Agnes agreed.

Margot shrugged her shoulders, then threw Agnes a pitying look. "You're gonna regret this, I just know you are."

Ignoring her as usual, Agnes brushed past the shadow girl and stepped back out onto the street. She breathed a sigh of relief as the odor of decay was replaced by sweet emptiness. There was no real smell to the town of Eldritch, or perhaps Agnes was just too used to it to notice. The lamps were beginning to flicker on as dusk fell over the town, ticking down the last few hours of the day. If they were to make it to School before the adults began their nightly prowls, the group would need to get moving.

Yvonne wrapped an arm around her brother, helping him up. "Hugo, please stand, sweet boy."

Reluctantly, he obeyed his sister's request, but his feet hesitated to walk. "Safe to trust?"

"We'll just have to hope, that's all," she nodded, praying it came across as authentic. "Come, you'll feel well soon."

Agnes was leaning against the butcher shop window when Yvonne and Hugo emerged from the alley, followed shortly by a moody Margot. She still wasn't sold on this change in their plans, but who knew; perhaps she'd enjoy what the journey had in store more than she anticipated.

"Left or right?" Agnes joked as if it really mattered. No matter which turns they took, they'd find their destination somehow. No one ever got lost in Eldritch—no one except Bogart. But he was a simple outlier; all sample sizes come with them, after all.

"Right I say!" Margot cheered. "To the place you call School!"

She marched ahead of the group, leaving Agnes to bring up the rear behind Yvonne and Hugo. The collection of children migrated down the desolate street, which is an over flowery way of stating that no one was around. Still, Agnes never let her guard down; she knew it was possible for things to change in the blink of an eye.

Maybe because it was how Bogart had disappeared: one second there, the next, in the wind. It was common for Agnes to spend most days with her brother, not unlike Yvonne and Hugo. On that day, she had been doing what she was doing now, making her way to School. It wasn't often she attended, but her brother had insisted she join him. There was something important he had wanted to share. A fact he had discovered in his free time.

"I found it in a book," he had said. "I want you to read it for yourself."

Oh, how she yearned to know what that fact was, but alas, she never got the chance to find out. For as they were crossing the street—though now, she couldn't remember which one—Agnes looked away for only a moment.

And in the next, her brother was gone.

While Agnes split her focus between thinking of Bogart and scanning their surroundings, Yvonne questioned the shadow girl Margot about her weird phrasing.

"What do you mean, the place we call School? Do you not call it that too?"

"Depends," Margot answered back. "What is a school?"

Yvonne's steps faltered as she registered the bizarre question. "It's not a school. It's School. What am I explaining this for, of course you've been to School!"

"Have not," Margot spat. "I've never heard of School in my life. It's probably something your parents make you do. You and Agnes are perfect for each other."

Yvonne was genuinely shocked; she had never heard of a child not attending School before. She glanced over her shoulder at Agnes. "Do you attend School?"

Agnes cocked a brow at the stupid question. "Of course I do. Every child in Eldritch does at least sometimes."

Yvonne gestured toward Margot. "She says she's never been."

Agnes shrugged. "Like you said, she isn't a child." The next part she shouted loud enough for Margot to hear. "Dogs aren't allowed in School!"

If the shadow girl heard the insulting words, she did not show it. Margot merely kept humming to herself as she walked, leading the group to a place she had never been. Of course, it did not matter what roads they took or which turns they made; as previously stated, it was impossible to get lost in the town of Eldritch.

Perhaps I should take a moment to explain, as the notion sounds absolutely ridiculous. You see, there are no known maps of Eldritch. No street signs, no landmarks, nothing that distinguished each street from the next. You may be asking yourselves, how in the world does that work? The truth is, no one really knows, not even the people of Eldritch. They simply think of a place to go, walk until it feels right to stop, then poof!

They would arrive.

So it mattered not that Margot hadn't a clue what School was; she marched on with purpose and knew exactly which lefts and rights to make. Yvonne paid little mind to where they were walking, confident they'd reach their destination without a problem. All her focus was on helping Hugo.

The ugly boy Hugo was doing very badly indeed, so it was good he had her full attention. Birds were lined up and down the main street of Eldritch, some perched on telephone wires, others stoic on the asphalt, their beady eyes locked on him. Hugo's mind was filled with noise, like the static off the photo box at home. He'd lick it from the screen and imagined it quieting the voices in his head. The ones that messed with his words. He hated how much they confused him.

Listen to us, they would whisper frantically. Only we can keep you safe.

And Agnes, comfortable with the emptiness of the streets, let her shoulders ease from their stiff position. Her gait became relaxed once more, and she felt ready to ask her questions.

"So, your brother is well enough to attend School?"

"Before," Yvonne answered defensively. "He hasn't been in a while."

"It shows."

Yvonne shot a glare over her shoulder. "He's not stupid."

"Is that what I said?"

"It's what you meant."

"Must we talk about boring things all the time?" Margot interrupted from the front. "Let's discuss something interesting, like where does the sun go when the day is done, and how does it know when to come back again?"

Agnes ignored her. "Answer my question from before, then. If he's not well enough to attend School, why bring him with you? Why not leave him at home?"

Yvonne sighed. "Because that awful girl Margot is right. We do have parents. . . and they are not good ones. I can't trust them to be nice to him while I'm gone. Not when he's like this."

Agnes thought back to Margot and the stranger from before. She hadn't been paying much attention to the interaction, but she could tell whatever the shadow girl said had pissed the man off. If Hugo was spewing the same gibberish at home, Agnes could see how his parents might be upset, and her imagination was developed enough to fill in how they might take it out on him.

After a moment, Agnes put in her two cents. "Don't be thick headed. No parents are good parents."

Yvonne said nothing back.

"They say there's sunshine growing inside me," Hugo whispered to his sister, the thought bubbling up from the depths of his demented little mind. "Tell her, Yvonne, tell her about the sunshine. I hold it all inside me."

"Yes, sweet boy. Quiet now, we'll be there soon."

The ugly boy Hugo fell quiet.

Agnes could not hear what was murmured between the brother and sister, but she studied their backs anyway. There was something off about the pair of them—they just seemed too willing to divulge information. Agnes would gladly drink up the tea for as long as Yvonne kept on pouring it, and she'd file away everything for her own personal use later down the line. But in terms of sharing things with Yvonne?

Yeah, that wasn't going to happen.

But she could pretend to be nice for a little longer. "How long have the crows been a problem?" She felt comfortable enough asking now; the further they walked, the scarcer the crows were becoming.

Hugo only flinched at the mention of the birds this time, but otherwise remained calm—much to the rest of the group's gratitude. Once sure he really was okay, Yvonne fell back to walk next to Agnes.

"They've always frightened him," she began quietly. "Since his first steps outside, he couldn't stand the sight of them, but it's his reaction that's changed over the years. Before, he could at least tolerate life with them around. Now, it's nearly impossible to get him to leave his room. You should've heard him scream when we ran into a flock of them earlier today. It's what drove us into that alley in the first place. Oh, how it breaks my heart."

Agnes frowned. "So it wasn't a possible kidnapper you were hiding from?"

Yvonne shook her head. "If there really is someone after Hugo, I have yet to see it. But we will know soon enough."

As they spoke about Hugo, he walked just ahead, his eyes searching for any signs of the winged beasts. The static in his head insisted they were near, but it seemed there weren't any birds left. Night was falling faster by the second, and they had homes to fly back to, after all. Still, he didn't let himself relax, especially when the mean girl turned over her shoulder to speak to him.

"What's it like having a simple mind? I bet you never get bored."

"Voices say you cannot understand this mind of mine," Hugo said. "Besides, you called me ugly. Not nice, right?"

"Depends how you take it, ugly boy," Margot answered. "I haven't really called you a name, have I? I've only described your face. It can't be mean if it's true."

"So... nice?" Hugo tried.

Margot smiled wickedly. "Very good, Hugo! Calling you ugly is nice! Perhaps you aren't so simple after all."

"What are you saying to him?" Yvonne cut in from the back.

"Nothing!" Margot sang.

The group slithered around the twists and turns of Eldritch, each street as nondescript as the last. Rows and rows of endless storefronts, all occupied at one time or another, now all abandoned. They encountered only two strangers on their commute: an adult hovering in the corner of a closed restaurant, doing only Eldritch knows what, and a child waiting patiently on a street corner. A sign they were close to School.

As the group passed him, a boy no older than four, he warned, "The bell for last hour draws near."

Agnes and Yvonne nodded; Margot stuck her tongue out rudely. The boy only scurried off, a stack of books clutched in his small hands.

"Does everyone in School talk so weird? I don't want to go where I won't fit in," Margot whined.

"Yes, but don't worry," Agnes assured her. "All children are welcome, even the feral ones."

Yvonne kept her attention on her feet, done talking to her newest—and very loud—companions. Instead, she admired a passing park filled with dead grass. A sad tire swing hung from a leafless tree, the result of some deranged adult, she assumed. A morose scene to most, Yvonne couldn't help but stare as they walked by. If she were a child from somewhere else, perhaps she might have leaped across the barren field and into the swing before taking off into the sky.

But what did a child of Eldritch know about nonsense like that?

Suddenly, Margot gasped as the top of a building broke over the horizon line. It was the most enormous thing she had ever seen. It begged the question how the shadow girl had never noticed it before. With an exterior built of concrete slabs and towers that rose as high as the clouds, School was a very impressive structure indeed. A large wrought-iron fence enclosed the institution, its spikes sharp. And in the center of it all stood a large bell tower, the instrument inside tarnished with age.

The building didn't look very inviting to Hugo, who had little memory of his last visit. The thoughts wormed their way around his brainstem, tickling the nerves connected to his ears.

Do not trust this place.

"How dreary," Margot crooned, craning her neck to see School from bottom to top. "Please say we get to have fun while we're in here, Agnes. I'm terribly bored."

"This isn't about your fun, idiot girl," Yvonne answered instead. "The sooner we get Hugo to my supplier, the sooner we all can part ways. Isn't that what you want?"

"As if you could ever understand what I want," Margot cackled. "I want your head on a silver platter so I may feed the ravens a bountiful breakfast in the morning. Would you fulfill that desire as well?"

Rolling her eyes, Yvonne addressed Agnes instead. "He's normally on the blacktop. I think it's our best bet to find him."

That made sense to Agnes—nothing good happened on the blacktop. And accessing the back part of School meant traveling through most of its interior, something Agnes had been secretly hoping for. She had other plans for this impromptu visit to School.

I found it in a book. I want you to read it for yourself.

Worry not; I'll be sure to explain that later.

For now, all that needs to be understood is that the group had reached their destination. One by one, Margot the shadow girl, the ugly boy Hugo, the pitiful girl Yvonne, and young Agnes, made their way through the front gates of School, just as the bell for last hour rang.