Wendell nudged him in the ribs as the group dispersed. "What about telling them you're not a hero?" he said.
"Oh, yeah," said Harvey with a mischievous smile. "I forgot about that."
The first of the children were already braving the wall of mist, eager to put the horrors of Hood's prison behind them as soon as possible. Harvey watched them fading with every step they took, and wished he'd had a moment to talk to them; to find out who they were and why they'd wandered into Hood's grip. Had they been orphans, with no other place to call home; or runaways, like Wendell and Lulu; or simply bored with their lives, the way he'd been bored, and seduced by illusions?
He would never know. They were disappearing one by one, until there was only Lulu, Wendell and himself left on the inside of the wall.
"Well," Wendell said to Harvey, "if time really is set to rights out there, then I'm going back a few more years than you."
"That's true."
"If we meet again, I'm going to be a lot older. You may not even know me."
"I'll know you," Harvey said.
"Promise?" said Wendell.
"I promise."
With that they shook hands, and Wendell made his departure into the mist. He was gone in three strides.
Lulu sighed heavily. "Have you ever wanted two things at the same time," she asked Harvey, "but you knew you couldn't have both of them?"
"Once or twice," said Harvey. "Why?"
"Because I'd like to grow up with you, and be your friend," she replied, "but I also want to go home. And I think in the year that's waiting for me on the other side of that wall, you haven't even been born."
Harvey nodded sadly, glancing back toward the ruins. "I guess we do have one thing to thank Hood for."
"What's that?"
"We were children together," he said, taking hold of her hand. "At least for a little while."
Lulu tried to smile, but her eyes were full of tears.
"Let's go together as far as we can," Harvey said.
"Yes, I'd like that," Lulu replied, and hand in hand they walked toward the wall. At the last moment before the mist eclipsed them they looked around at each other, and Harvey said: "Home..."
Then they stepped into the wall. For the first stride he felt Lulu's hand in his, but by the second stride it had grown faint, and by the third-when he stepped out into the street it and she had gone completely, delivered back into the time from which she'd stepped, all those seasons ago.
Harvey looked up at the sky. The sun had set, but its pinkish light still found the ribs of cloud laid high above him. The wind was gusty, and chilled the sweat of fear and exertion on his face and spine.
Teeth chattering, he started home through the darkening streets, uncertain what awaited him.
It was strange that after so many victories the simple business of walking home should defeat him, but defeat him it did. After an hour of wandering, his wits and strength which had preserved him from every terror Hood could conjure-failed him. His head began to spin, his legs buckled beneath him, and he fell down on the sidewalk, exhausted.
Luckily two passersby took pity on him, and gently asked him where he lived. It was dangerous, he vaguely recalled, to trust his life to total strangers, but he had no choice. All he could do was give himself over to their care, and hope that the world he'd returned to still had a little kindness in it.
He woke in darkness, and for one heartstopping moment he thought the black lake had claimed him after all, and he was down in its depths, a prisoner.
Crying out in terror he sat up, and to his infinite relief saw the window at the bottom of his bed, the curtains slightly parted, and heard the light patter of rain upon the sill. He was home.
He swung his legs out of bed and stood up. His whole body ached as though he'd gone ten rounds with a heavyweight boxer, but he was strong enough to hobble to the door and open it.
The sound of two familiar voices drifted up from the bottom of the stairs.
"I'm just happy he's home," he heard his mom say.
"So am I," said his dad. "But we need some explanations."
"We'll get them," his mom went on. "But we shouldn't push him too hard."
Clinging to the banisters as he went, Harvey started down the stairs, while his mom and dad continued to talk.
"We need to find out the truth quickly," his father said. "I mean, suppose he was involved with something criminal?"
"Not Harvey."
"Yes, Harvey. You saw the state of him. Blood and dirt all over him. He's not been out picking roses, that's for sure."
At the bottom of the stairs Harvey halted, a little afraid to face the truth. Had anything changed, or were the two people just out of sight still old and frail?
He went to the door and pushed it open. His mom and dad were standing with their backs to him at the window, staring out at the rain.
"Hello," he said.
They both turned at the same moment, and Harvey let out a whoop of joy to see that all the griefs and horrors of the House had not been endured in vain. Here was his prize, staring down at him: his mother and father, looking just the way they had before Rictus had come for him. The stolen years were back where they belonged, in his possession.
"I'm a good thief," he said, half to himself.
"Oh, my darling," said his mom, coming to him with open arms.
He hugged her first, then his dad.
"What have you been up to, son?" his dad wanted to know.
Harvey remembered how difficult it had been to explain everything last time; so instead of even trying he said: "I was just wandering around and I got lost. I didn't mean to get you upset."
"You said something about a thief."
"Did I?"
"You know you did," his dad said sternly.
"Well...are you a thief if you're taking something that belongs to you in the first place?" Harvey asked him.
His dad and mom exchanged puzzled looks.
"No, honey," his mom said. "Of course not."
"Then I'm not a thief," Harvey replied.
"I think you owe both of us the truth, Harvey," his mom said. "We want to know everything."
"Everything?"
"Everything," said his dad.
So he told them the whole tale, just as they'd asked, right from the beginning, and if their expressions had been doubtful the last time he'd related his adventures, they were incredulous now.
"Do you really expect us to believe all of this?" his father broke in while Harvey was talking about meeting Hood in the attic.
"I can take you to the House," Harvey said. "Or what's left of it. I couldn't find it last time, because it hid itself from grown-ups. But Hood's gone, so there's no magic left to hide it with."
Once again his mom and dad exchanged baffled looks.
"If you can find this Hood-House," his father said, "we'd both like to see it."
They set out early the following day, and this time-just as Harvey had expected-the way back to the House was not concealed by magic. He found the streets that Rictus had first led him along easily enough, and very soon the gentle slope on which the House had once stood came into view.
"That's it," he said to his mom and dad. "The House stood there."
"It's just a hill, Harvey," his dad said. "A hill covered in grass."