Everwild Read Free

blood?” Speedo asked.
    â€œNo,” she told him, maintaining her poise in spite of the fury that raged within her. “It’s chocolate.”
In her book
Caution, This Means You
, Mary Hightower says the following about the “evils” of the chocolate one: “Wise Afterlights would do well to heed the many warnings relating to the creature known as the Chocolate Ogre. He is a force of chaos and distress in this world. Indeed, Everlost itself shakes in fury at his terrible misdeeds. If there is justice in this world—and I believe there most certainly is—he will be held accountable when he meets his maker. Should the ogre be seen anywhere near your vicinity, it is best to seek shelter, and immediately report his presence to an authority.”
By “authority,” one can only assume that Mary means herself.

CHAPTER 3
Audience with an Ogre
    It was an old steam engine, forged and destroyed in the nineteenth century, but so well-loved by its conductor that it earned a place in Everlost. Of course it could travel only on tracks that no longer existed. Such were the inconveniences of life after life.
    A kid with hands much too large for his body, and with a cigarette that never went out dangling from his lip, had freed the boy from Mary’s net. Now he gripped the kid’s arm a little too hard as he moved him through fields and woods toward the waiting train.
    â€œWhose train is it?” The boy asked in a panic, “What’s gonna happen to me?”
    â€œDon’t ask stupid questions,” said the kid with big hands, “or I’ll send you down soon as look at you, I swear I will.” Then he pushed the boy up the steps and into a parlor car.
    The smell hit him right away.
    â€œOh, no! No!”
    As wonderful as that chocolate smell was, it couldonly mean one thing. The rumors were true, and he was doomed.
    At the other end of the car sat a figure wearing a tie and a white shirt, although the shirt had become stained with countless brown smudges. So was the rich red carpet. So were the red velvet chairs.
    â€œDon’t be afraid,” the Chocolate Ogre said—which was always what monsters said when you really should be afraid.
    Light poured in from the windows into the frightened boy’s eyes, so he couldn’t see the face of the ogre clearly, but then the ogre stood and came into the light. All at once everything became clear.
    It was as if someone had dipped the entire left half of his face in a fudge bucket. It seemed to ooze right out of his pores—even the color of his left eye had gone chocolate-brown. It was the other half of his face that was the more surprising, for that half did not look monstrous at all. In fact the right side of his face looked like that of an ordinary fifteen-year-old boy.
    â€œLet me go,” the terrified Afterlight begged. “I’ll do anything you want, just let me go.”
    â€œI will,” said the Chocolate Ogre. “Even better than letting you go, I’ll send you on your way.”
    That did not sound good, and the boy waited for the bottomless pit to open beneath his feet. But that didn’t happen.
    â€œWhat’s your name?” the ogre asked.
    It was something the boy had not thought about for a long time. “I’m …
me
.”
    The Chocolate Ogre nodded. “You can’t remember. That’s okay.” Then the ogre held out his hand to shake. “I’m Nick.”
    The boy looked at the ogre’s hand, and didn’t know how to respond. It was much cleaner than the other one, which was totally covered in chocolate—but still even his “clean” hand had plenty of stains, probably from touching all the other chocolate-splattered things on the train.
    â€œWhat’s the matter? You didn’t expect the ‘Chocolate Ogre,’ to actually have a name?” His smile made chocolate drip from his cheek and to the darkly stained