Forgive me – you are not here to read about the doubts of an old man, but the adventures of the younger. 

 

After giving the two of us time for a happy and then melancholy reunion, Mrs. Amsel returned to the room and dove right into business, though she spoke only to one of us.

 

“William, it is time to go into the Forest,” both he and I frowned at that last word, but Mrs. Amsel either did not notice or did not care, “the last five are there.”

 

“Do we know who they are?” Both turned to me, somewhat surprised at the question.

 

After I returned the look, William spoke, “Apologies, Henry. It has only been the two of us for some time, and, um . . .” He cleared his throat awkwardly and twisted his chair so as to better include me in the discussion. Mrs. Amsel too, though less readily, broke from the duet to include me in the trio.

 

“Henry, do you remember the family who we helped those many months ago? That mushroom fellow?”

 

“Oh yes, him.” 

 

“As far as we can tell by our records,” said Mrs. Amsel, “he and his family are the only ones remaining.” 

 

“At some point they must have become possessed,” William shook his head, “I can still feel my ward around their home, but it must have failed somehow.”

 

“Are you certain they’ve been possessed?”

 

 

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