Cody woke with a start as the donkey's nose nudged him, pushing its way through the hay. He sat up and realized he was in a corral, between the legs of the animal calmly eating its dinner. Dazed and confused, he got up and walked toward the workshop, from which loud voices were arguing. Peeking in, he discovered he was in a forge. A group of Black men were speaking animatedly. Cody sharpened his hearing and caught the conversation:
"They were asking about the girl who was kidnapped… wanted to know where she was taken."
"And what did you tell them?"
"Well, that they took her to the witch's house."
"You fool, Zamudio!" said one of them. "You should've just said you didn't know!"
"I'm not good at lying…" Zamudio replied.
"When it suits you… Is it something valuable?" asked another, stepping toward a corner Cody couldn't see.
"They're letters. I don't know much, but they look like navigation charts," replied the voice of an old woman.
"What's a white boy doing with documents like that?" asked one of the men.
"Maybe they're treasure maps," said the youngest.
"You and your stories, Zamudio. But it's obvious we could sell them… or ask for a ransom," said another. "What do you think, Charly?"
"There might even be a reward for the little white boy… What do you say, Prime?" asked Charly.
The burly man working the forge paused to wipe the sweat from his brow and answered without turning:
"Don't drag me into your mess. I've got a gate to finish for Mr. Campbell."
"Well then, it's settled… let's sell the letters!" Clarky exclaimed.
Upon hearing this, Cody looked around, grabbed a pair of tongs, and stormed into the group.
"Those belong to me!" he shouted threateningly.
He came face-to-face with four men, taller and stronger than him—especially the one at the forge. In that instant, he realized it hadn't been the wisest move.
The men first looked at him in surprise, then burst out laughing at the sight of his pale face. But an elderly woman sitting at the table silenced them at once.
"Charly, Zamudio, Clarky—enough with the teasing!" she ordered sternly, then turned to Cody. "You're safe here. No one will hurt you. I'm Mama Loverbug Wheel, and these are my sons."
"Where am I?" Cody asked.
"At the Wheel Forge. Zamudio found you lying in the street," Mama Loverbug replied.
"We helped you because Mama says you never deny aid to someone bleeding in the street," said Zamudio.
"Don't mind Clarky—there's always one in every litter who's not quite right," Charly added.
"What happened after I was lying in the mud?" Cody asked, rubbing the bump on his head.
"Some men in black beat you and another kid up. They left you in the street and took the other one with them," said Zamudio.
"Sammy…" Cody muttered as the memory returned. "They took her. Where?"
"You mean that scruffy kid?" Zamudio asked.
"She! She's a girl."
Everyone let out a gasp of surprise.
"Oh, well. From what we heard, they took her to Aunt Betty's mansion," said Mama Loverbug.
"They were speaking German, that's for sure… I understood them," added Zamudio.
"Zamudio speaks German," confirmed the mother.
"I worked for some Moravian cane planters in the hills. They taught me to read their Bible… in German, in exchange for a raise," said Zamudio.
"I need your help," Cody insisted. "Sammy's my friend. That witch will kill her—or worse…"
A chill ran through the room.
"What kind of mess are you two in? Because it's clear this is all connected," said the old woman, holding up the letters.
"They're navigation charts. I don't know much, but I know they're important," Cody said, stepping forward.
"Mama, we should've tossed him in the forge. Maybe those charts would've lifted us out of poverty," said Clarky.
Cody went pale.
"Shut your mouth, Clarky! We're not murderers or thieves here," said the man working the anvil.
"I agree with Prime. We're decent folk," said Mama Loverbug.
The old woman folded the pages, placed them back in the leather tube, and handed it to Cody.
"I'm sorry, son… We'd like to help, but no one crosses that witch."
"All of Kingsport fears her," added Zamudio, eyes wide.
"We all fear her… but when hunger strikes, you take jobs that reek of brimstone," said Mama Loverbug.
"Besides, there's nothing in it for us if we help you," Clarky grumbled.
Cody sighed in despair.
"You know that house, don't you, Prime?" Zamudio asked.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Prime said, pulling a glowing iron bar from the fire and plunging it into water. Steam filled the room.
"Of course you do! You and Clarky installed some railings there."
Cody's eyes lit up.
"Please! I know you've seen that house!" Cody asked.
"I know it… more than I'd like to," Prime said, hammering the metal again on the anvil.
Cody stepped forward, pleading.
"Please… can you tell me how to get in?" the boy insisted.
The old woman slowly rose, leaning on a cane twisted by age, and looked him in the eye.
"Boy, you don't understand… That woman and that house carry a darkness that can't be explained."
"To make it simple…" Clarky chimed in, "It's a brothel and a smuggling den—for slaves and worse."
"Then let me do it," Cody said. "But I need to get in. Just tell me how."
There was a long silence. Finally, Cody pulled out his leather pouch and offered it to the old woman.
"It's all I have… Please, in exchange for your help."
The woman opened it. Her sons—except Prime—leaned in, their eyes gleaming.
"Oh come on, we earn more than this shoeing a horse," said Clarky.
Mama Loverbug examined the coins with doubt. They weren't many, but… how much was a clean conscience worth in Kingsport?
"Prime, tell the boy what you know," Mama Loverbug said, handing the pouch back. Cody took it, confused.
"It's for you… in exchange…"
"We're good Christians. You need this more than we do," the old woman said as Clarky prepared to protest, but Zamudio smacked him on the back of the head.
Prime stepped away from the forge and looked Cody square in the eye.
"There's an entrance," Prime said quietly. "The dungeons are beneath the house, and they can only be reached through a hidden passage in the basement—accessible from the kitchen. You'll have to sneak in. Pretend to be a servant… or a client. But if they catch you, no one can help."
Cody lowered his head. Then raised it again, determined.
"I'm willing to face the consequences."
"There's also a secret tunnel that leads to the sea," Prime added in a grave tone. "That's how they smuggle the slaves."
"The old witch avoids taxes," said Zamudio.
"But that part's for you to figure out," said Prime.
The old woman looked at him and then at her sons. The boy stood firm, though fear shimmered in his eyes.
"We'll get you an outfit," she said, sizing him up. "You're about the same height as Clark. Clarky, give him the red coat you wear to church."
"And the buckle shoes," added Zamudio.
"I'm not giving him my Sunday best!" Clarky protested.
Mama Loverbug's stern look silenced him. He left the workshop and came back with the clothes, tossing them to Cody with disgust. The old woman stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"If you're going into that house, boy… you'd better carry more than just courage."