She was fearful also, but she did not want to share her worries with the others. What would happen if they were found? She wiped her brow and tried to think positively, showing brave smiles to Polly and Tidbit. Just as she let herself relax, however, her worst fears became reality.

As they walked on, Amari could see nothing but shadows-some lighter than others. The trees-long, slim silhouettes-seemed to guide them most of the time, but sometimes the branches looked like arms with hands of many fingers, ready to attack.

And then, suddenly, the branches of a short, sturdy tree moved. Just as Amari jumped, one branch grabbed her wrist. She cried out and tried to pull her arm free. Polly instantly grasped Tidbit's hand and pulled him into the darkness.

Amari screamed again and tried to turn, but she couldn't get free. Then she heard a voice full of venom and danger.

"Where do you think you're going?" As Amari twisted to escape, she found herself face-to-face with Clay Derby.

"Let me go!" Amari exploded, but Clay held her arm as firmly as the shackles she had once worn as he pulled her close to the trunk of the tree.

"I been looking for you and that white girl you run off with for a long time now," Clay drawled. "My father would have been proud of me, God rest his soul."

"How you find?" Amari asked in furious frustration.

"Wasn't hard. You leave footprints the size of a horse." He laughed with disdain, spat on the ground, and pulled a rope from his doublet. He first tied Amari's arms together, then tied her to the tree, pressing himself against her to keep her still.

"How you know where to look?" she wanted to know.

"Oh, the doctor made up that cock-and-bull story about highwaymen and seeing you all head north. But he is a poor excuse for a liar. Everybody went north looking for you, but I figured you might try something stupid like running south."

"Why you care?" Amari asked with quiet anger.

"You are mine, gal." His leer turned into a confused scowl. "I have missed you, Myna," he admitted. "Didn't you miss me a little? I thought you liked me." He touched her face gently.

In spite of her fury, Amari was amazed at the plaintive tone in his voice. "Why you not just let me be?" she asked angrily.

Clay leaned over very close to her face. "Because I aim to reclaim what's mine. You hear me, Myna?"

Amari took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and this time it was her turn to spit. She spat directly in his face. Clay roared and slapped her so hard that her head bounced back against the tree trunk. She felt herself fading into a faint, but she felt victorious. Clay slapped her again, bringing her back to full consciousness. Amari glared at him.

From the shadows, Amari heard Hushpuppy growl.

"Where is the child?" Clay asked Amari as he looked around.

Amari looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Dead," she said emphatically.

"I don't think so," Clay replied calmly. "That would save me the trouble of dashing his head against a tree. I followed your footprints, remember?"

Amari struggled against the ropes. She had never been so angry. If he hurt Tidbit, she would kill him, she vowed.

"And where is the white girl?" Clay asked as he watched her struggle. He seemed to be amused.

"She leave us-go north," Amari lied.

"You know, you're as poor a liar as the doctor," Clay told her as he ran his hand down her arm. "I shall enjoy punishing you when we return to Derbyshire Farms. I am master there now, you know. My father died suddenly-not long after you ran off."

"Massa Derby dead?" Amari asked with surprise. She wondered if Mrs. Derby had breathed a sigh of relief. Amari lowered her head. Is it wrong to be glad that someone is dead? she thought.

"Yes, the doctor said it was his heart, but I believe he was poisoned," Clay said ominously.

Amari peered into the darkness and prayed that Polly and Tidbit would not try to save her and get caught themselves. Again she heard Hushpuppy growl from the darkness of the woods, quietly but with menace.

"What happen when we go back?" Amari asked, trying to keep Clay talking.

"Oh, you'll be punished severely-perhaps a brand on your face or maybe the removal of a finger or toe. I have not yet decided."

Amari felt her heart quicken, but she refused to let Clay see that she was scared.

"I fully intend to teach you the folly of trying to run away from me. But tonight," he said, his voice dropping low, "I intend to make up for lost time. I really have missed you, gal." He stroked her leg, and Amari kicked at him.

Undeterred, Clay put his hand on Amari's other leg. A dusty blond shadow erupted from the woods at that moment, both hands shakily holding the musket. Polly closed her eyes and squeezed the trigger. The sound was deafening. Amari screamed. Clay sank to the ground with a moan.

"He be dead?" Amari asked fearfully as they crept close to him.

Polly, her face showing both terror and surprise, dropped the gun, then fell to her knees and turned Clay over. "No, he is not dead," she declared with relief. "It's a good thing I am such a poor shot. I didn't want to hurt him, just frighten him away!"

Clay's eyes fluttered and he groaned softly.

"The bullet barely grazed the side of his head. He will be fully conscious soon. We must hurry." She tore at the knots that held Amari.

Amari looked at Polly with gratitude, amazement, and new respect. "I not know you so wild!"

Polly grinned. "I didn't know it either. I just knew I had to do something quick and sudden." Then she got down to business. "It is his turn to be tied," she suggested.

"He get loose soon, yes?" Amari asked.

"Probably," Polly replied. "We don't have much rope. I suppose he will be able to undo the knots eventually. But at least we will have some time to get away."

"He should die," Amari declared, no regret in her voice.

"Maybe so, but it is not for us to do," Polly replied.

They pulled Clay over to the tree and bound him as tightly as they could. "We must get out of here quickly," Polly said. "Someone may have heard the gunfire."

As they backed away from him, he began to stir. "He be wakin' up," Amari whispered frantically.

Polly grabbed Clay's knapsack and tossed the gun inside it. "We must flee! If he gets loose, he will surely find us and kill us."

"Maybe not," Amari replied. She pointed to a spot just beyond Clay's thigh where a large rattlesnake slithered toward him.

"What should we do?" Polly whispered.

"Nothing," Amari replied quietly.

Clay opened his eyes and focused slowly on Amari, Polly, and Tidbit sitting a few feet away from him. A trickle of blood oozed from the wound on his head. He pulled at his restraints. "How dare you?" he roared as he became more aware of what they had done. He yanked at the ropes. "I'll kill you for this!"

"I don't think so," Polly replied.

"Mark my words, you'll pay for this!" he warned viciously as he tugged at the ropes some more. "When we get back, I'll throw that boy in his mother's cooking pot and make her watch him die!"

"We not go back," Amari told him clearly.

"Oh, yes, you are," Clay swore as he continued to struggle with the ropes. "You can't even tie a decent knot," he crowed triumphantly, freeing one arm. Even if you run, I will find you and catch you, and I plan to spend the rest of my life making you suffer."

"Rest of life might not be long," Amari observed quietly. The snake, unmoving, coiled tensed and ready only inches from Clay's leg.

Clay looked directly at Amari, his face a mask of rage and confusion. "I tried to be kind to you," he told her. "How can you repay me like this?"

She looked at him with pity. "You just not understand."

Angrily, Clay continued to wiggle and struggle with the ropes that held him. Then he turned his head and spotted the snake. He froze. The snake was motionless as well.

Amari looked at Polly. Polly looked at Tidbit. They all looked toward the woods. In silent agreement they hurried away from Clay.

PART EIGHT.

POLLY.

36. SHOULD WE TRUST HIM?.

THEY RAN. FASTER THAN POLLY THOUGHT POSSIBLE, they jumped over logs and under low-hanging branches, the only thought being to put miles between them and Clay Derby. Her left side cramped and ached, but they dared not stop. With great urgency, they hurried through the darkness, Amari clutching one of Tidbit's arms, Polly the other. His little feet barely touched the ground. Sweat poured down Polly's face. Finally, after what seemed like miles of frantic running, they stopped by a shallow river to rest.

Amari was breathing so hard, she threw up. Tidbit collapsed by the stream and then crawled into the water to cool off. Slowly, her pounding heart slowed, but Polly knew they were probably still in grave danger.

"Do you think the snake got him?" Polly asked.

"Maybe snake not mad enough to bite," Amari said as she worked to catch her breath. "Maybe Massa Clay got loose and kill the snake," she added fearfully.

Tidbit emerged from the water, dripping wet. "If Massa Clay find us again, he gonna take me to my mama?"

Polly clasped her hand to her mouth, shocked and saddened at the child's question. Polly looked at Amari, then told Tidbit carefully, "Tidbit, if Clay comes back, he will try to hurt us. So we have to keep running and stay very quiet. Do you understand?"

Tidbit shifted from one foot to another, looking surprisingly mature. "I don't care if he beat me. I just wanna see my mama." He was blinking back tears.

Amari grabbed him then and pulled him to her. "I know, little one. I know."

Polly sat down with them, and the two girls tried their best to comfort the little boy. Through it all, she listened to the night sounds but could hear no approaching footsteps. "Do you think we did wrong to leave him like that?" she whispered to Amari.

"Massa Clay not in our hands no more," Amari replied.

Reluctantly, Polly picked up Clay's knapsack and looked through it. In it was a hunk of dried salt pork, a few apples, some wrapped cheese, and several hard biscuits. She gave one to Tidbit.

"My mama made this bread," he said, first sniffing it, then holding it close to his body. "I wanna go see my mama!" He began to cry.

Amari looked at the boy sadly. "We come too far to go back," she said. "'Sides, if I goes back, I be a slave again. And I ain't never bein' no slave ever no more." Polly nodded thoughtfully and stood back up. Amari picked up Tidbit, and they headed south once again.

They did not stop for two days, moving even during the day, staying well away from the roads as they did. They saw people only in the distance. Tidbit's little legs struggled to keep up. Many times he had to be carried or cajoled into continuing the journey. There was no sign of Clay, but they never stopped looking over their shoulders.

"We should have tried to find Clay's horse," Polly said wearily one evening.

"No," Amari replied. "Better this way."

One evening, bone-weary and dragging through the red-clay mud of still another shallow river they had to cross, they paused to search for crayfish or clams. "I found five!" Tidbit whispered excitedly. Even he knew to be ever vigilant and quiet.

Then Polly saw him: a boy about their age, sitting on a rock overlooking the river. He was hunched over a fishing pole and did not appear to notice them.

Polly motioned to Amari and Tidbit to get back into the darkness of the pine trees. Hushpuppy also silently disappeared. But just as Polly stepped backward, the boy looked up.

He had dirty reddish hair, a torn shirt, and wore no shoes. He gazed at Polly without much surprise. "Who are you?" he asked bluntly.

"I suppose I could ask you the same thing," she retorted, hands on her hips. She wanted to show him how bold and unafraid she was, but her heart quaked.

"What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?" he countered.

Polly raked her fingers through her hair and brushed a twig off her dress. She couldn't believe she was worrying about how she looked! "Getting some fresh air. And who goes fishing after dark?"

"I do."

"You catch anything?" she asked.

"No. Too dark," he admitted. He looked at her closely in the moonlight. "I never seen you round these parts before."

Polly replied saucily, "There's probably a lot you've never seen."

"What's your name?" the boy asked.

"Polly." She immediately gasped and put her hand to her mouth. She should have told him Sarah or Sally or anything other than her real name!

"So, Miss Polly, you look like you got a lot to hide. You're dirty, you look hungry, and you look lost."

"I know exactly where I am. I am speaking to a young man who does not have the good manners to be polite to a lady!" She tried to speak to him with dignity, but it was hard with muddy feet.