Chapter Seven
“We must go and present ourselves to him,” Ishmael insisted as soon as Duncan told him of the dog. It was dawn and the storms had blown themselves out, bringing cool autumn air to the river valley.
Duncan was not certain why he felt so compelled to take the boy’s lead, but he picked up his rifle again and gestured Ishmael toward the tunnel of trees. Macaulay grabbed a sturdy branch, brandishing it like a club, and followed.
Ishmael was standing on the mound when Duncan arrived. There was no sign of the dog, but the top of the prisoner post was split and charred from a lightning strike. Ishmael warily touched the post then looked back at Duncan and slowly nodded, as if it confirmed his expectation. His hand still on the post, the boy spoke solemnly to the skulls in the tree
