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Well now, I'm just going to let you go and enjoy this latest chapter. Thank you again every reader. Thank you so much!

Chapter II

The children have never imagined this could happen in their repeated life, the sudden attack that turns everything upside down and steals their beloved guardian from them. They're hopeless for their hope has been captured in the very small cage somewhere far from them. Life without Miss Peregrine is so unfamiliar to them that they don't even know whether this is real or not. They cling together in this darkest hour, keeping one another warm in the dark ball room of the Augusta. No one says anything. They absolutely have no idea what's waiting in the mainland. They don't even know whether they will get there in time for their ymbryne. Although no one says it out loud, all of them fear to their heart they will lose Miss P for good.

The twins lean against Olive, quiet but awake. The fire girl looks into an emptiness in front of her. Horace stays still like a statue, his face looks more tired. Beside him, Fiona and Hugh sit hand in hand, Hugh's bees don't even buzz. Millard is there as well. No one knows what he's doing when the boy doesn't move or say a word. Bronwyn pulls her knees to her chest, rocking herself back and forth like when she sat in Miss Peregrine's lap on the rocking chair. The tough girl doesn't feel tough at all now. Her strength is gone, and she doesn't know it will come back soon or not. Claire's in Enoch's arms. It's so strange that of all the children in the home, Claire can find her second shelter in Enoch, and the teenage boy never refuses her. His face is stern exactly like his headmistress when she gave him a severe reprimand. It's quite boring, all of her regulations, but Enoch'd give his all to be scolded again, to see that strict face of her when she says how many times have I told you, polite persons do not...

Emma leans on Jake's shoulder. The floating girl's thinking about that day when they lost Victor. They all stayed like this, clinging together in the parlor, crying like a baby until they were tired and fell asleep. She can still remember in the morning they woke up on the floor and found themselves covered with their own blanket from their bedroom. Little Claire and Bronwyn even had their own teddybear in their arms. Breakfast was served beautifully as always on the table, although the cook's eyes are swollen and quite red. There's a bowl of porridge and a glass of fresh orange juice for Victor as well, although his chair's empty. It was hard enough for Emma and her friends, and the girl couldn't imagine how hard it was for the one who loved the boy like he was her own son. But Miss Peregrine had never failed to take care of her children no matter what. Everything went on without any changes, of course, for the children's own best.

Jake feels like he has lost all of his internal organs as if his body's hollow. He feels sick, not because of the sea, but because the burden on his shoulder is so heavy that he wonders how Miss Peregrine can do this for almost a century. To care for one's safety or even oneself is hard enough, but this, to care for eleven children's is, in Jake's opinion, impossible. He doesn't say it out loud that he thinks we're going to lose, but he's quiet sure all of them know. Isn't it obvious enough, twelve children versus those wights and hollows? But sometimes, we just want to cling on what we want to, not what it will be, let that lie deceive us so that we can remain ourselves a little bit longer, so that we can hope, though our hope is very forlorn.

They dock the ship not far from the abandoned beach. It's getting darker and colder outside that the young ones have to hug themselves tighter, though Olive's fire is there.

'Alright,' Jake begins, 'I think some of us should cut through the wood first to see how we can get into the tower without being seen.'

No one says anything. Some of them look at Jake like he's their new ymbryne, and that doesn't make make him feel more confident at all.

'I should go. Because I can see them,' he continues and looks around for some volunteers. He almost sighs with relief when Emma steps up.

'I'll go. Just in case you get lost, so you can send me up,' the girl holds his hand. She squeezes it to remind him that he's not alone. We are all in this together, her eyes tell him.

'And I think you need a fire in there,' Olive gives Jake a smile. Her new friend needs help, and if she can, she will not hesitate to do so.

'An invisible spy is quite important as well,' Millard says and starts putting his clothes off, 'though I have to say it must be really cold outside.'

'So I guess I have to be a nanny then, huh?' Enoch doesn't even wait for an answer. Of course, he doesn't enjoy the idea of being left behind, but these little children need someone to protect them as well, and since there's not much he can do in the wood, he better stay here, saving his strength for the war which is about to begin. However, the little ones don't think like that.

'But we want to save Miss P, too!' Little Claire protests.

'Yes, I can help as well!' Little Bronwyn joins her, while the twins make strange noise.

'Children,' Enoch turns to see them, 'we are going to save Miss Peregrine for sure, but now, we have to know first how to get in there. If you really want to help her, you have to be patient and wait till they come back, understand?'

Jake and Emma look at each other in amazement. If there's to be a male ymbryne, Enoch must be the first one on the list. He's surrounded by the little kids and his face looks exactly like Miss Peregrine's when she gives an order. More importantly, the kids listen to him. They all nod and sit down on the floor.

'I think I should be here,' says Hugh, 'My bees can protect them.'

'So I'll be here with Hugh and Enoch,' Fiona affirms.

'I'll slow you down if I go, so I better stay,' Horace looks so weary as if he hasn't slept for a month. The boy sits down beside the young ones and closes his eyes, just resting for a few seconds, not sleeping.

'Okay. Good,' Jake grabs Miss P's crossbow. It's getting heavier every time he has to use it. 'We will be back in a few minutes, I guess. Take care.'

That's the first time Enoch gives Jake a nod.

Outside, it's not cold. It's freezing. Jake doesn't know how the welcoming warmth of September 3, 1943 could disappear this fast. Perhaps, it's his heart that is frozen, not the weather. He leads the others out of the ship into the dark wood near the beach. They walk in silence, looking around to make sure they're safe from any unwelcoming guests. The last thing they want now is to be captured since the beginning of this unplanned mission. That must tear their hope into pieces.

Olive creates a fire ball on her hand. The fire girl can hear Millard walking beside her and she can't help thinking how useful it is to be invisible like him. Though there's no mirror around, Olive can tell her face must look frightened. She wished she could have been invisible so that she can pretend to be brave, to be more confident with what she's doing right now. She believes in Jake, yes, she does, but what is about to happen is still dreadful. She fears for other children but more importantly, she fears for her ymbryne.

The girl knows her Miss P isn't just an ordinary ymbryne. Not only is she the youngest one, but also, the most powerful ymbryne the peculiardom has ever witnessed according to what Miss Avocet said. If other ymbrynes are so valuable to this experiment, what could happen to the ymbryne like Miss P? Olive doesn't even dare think about that.

'Are you okay, Olive?' Emma asks, placing her hand on Olive's shoulder.

'I'm fine. I'm just...,' Olive can't say it out. She doesn't want to admit that what she thinks can be one of many horrible possibilities that could happen to her headmistress. And it seems like Emma understands that quite well since the girl gives her 'hot' friend a very assuring look,

'We will save her,' Emma says. 'We will save her, Olive.'

Olive gives the floating girl a nod and a half smile. She wants to believe that with all her heart, but she's too reasonable to do so. Maybe, many years with Enoch have turned her to be as pessimistic as he is, seeing the world darker than it should be. Maybe, things are not going to be that terrible. Maybe, we, twelve teenagers and children, can really win this battle and save Miss P. Maybe. Just maybe.

As calm as Emma might look, the girl's dying inside. She has absolutely no idea how she can rescue her ymbryne from those monsters. If Miss P were here, everything would be solved in just a second. But again, if Miss P were here, they would not be in this situation in the first place. They would be in the parlor, watching Horace's dream and Miss P would stand there behind them, watching over them as always. For bird's sake, Emma doesn't know how many times she has to remind herself that now Miss P has been captured, and it's no good thinking about what would have happened, if her headmistress hadn't been taken.

For the first time in many decades, the floating girl's limbs are so heavy that she may no longer need her lead shoes. Emma's mind races, trying desperately to find anything that might be of use, but nothing comes up. Every minute she has wasted, Emma can feel Miss P's life slipping away, and her heart hurts so bad just imagining life without her beloved headmistress, her true mom who saved her from the cruelty of this world. Hot tears stings her eyes, but she needs to be strong. There's no place for weakness right now. Miss P is waiting, Emma!

'I think I should go up,' Emma suggests. They're going no where since everywhere looks exactly the same, and also, she needs some fresh air to rejuvenate her brain.

Jake gives her a nod. He can't see any better ideas than this, so the boy ties a rope around the girl's waist and send her up.

It's better up here. At least, the drizzle can freshen Emma a little bit. But when it reminds her of the old day when she walked home with Miss Peregrine under the black umbrella, the girl can't hold her tears back anymore. She misses her ymbryne so much, and she may start crying like a little baby, if Jake's voice doesn't interrupt her train of thought first.

'What can you see there?'

Emma clears her throat and tries her best to keep her voice even,

'Uhhh..the tower..is there, I can see it. We just have to w-'

All of them whip around at once, can't believe their own ears.

'Did you hear that?' Millard asks, stepping closer to Jake and Olive.

There's no need to answer. The barking can be heard very clear now. Yes, it might be some stray dogs, but Jake is quite sure there's none of them at the pier when he left.

'IT'S THEM!' He shouts and pulls Emma down. Jake takes her hand, and tells Millard to pick Emma's shoes up. Then, they all run.

How stupid he is! That ship is larger than a house and he just docked it there, thinking it could be his shelter or something, hidden from those monster eyes? Oh, Jake, you couldn't be more stupid than this.

They follow the barking until it's gone. Maybe, their friends might be able to take care of what has just happened. After all, they have a swarm of bees, the razor teeth, and the bad-tempered puppeteer with them. It can't be that easy for the wights, right? Unless they travel with guns and hollows.

And they do. When Jake, Emma, Olive, and Millard enters the lounge of the Augusta, their friends were all gone, all of them, Little Claire, Bronwyn, the twins, Hugh, Fiona, Horace, even Enoch. There's no blood nor bodies without eyeballs, so at least, their friends are probably still alive.

At first, Jake feels relieved, but then, he isn't quite sure what is better, being killed, or being invited to join the insane experiment that gave birth to the Hollowghasts.

Enoch has never known before how hard it is to walk while one hand carries a little girl, and another holds one of the twins's hands. He's seen Miss P did this for a million times already, and he definitely can't understand how she managed to do so without tripping up. And she even walks down the stairs like this sometimes, FOR BIRD'S SAKE, he has to warn her next time she does that. If there's next time.

Thanks to these wights, he and the children are under the Blackpool Tower now. At gunpoint, to be specific. One at his back, one at Hugh's head, and one at Bronwyn. That's quite enough to force eight peculiar kids to behave for a while, isn't it?

'Well, well.' It's Barron. He's waiting in the circle room that looks exactly like the circus. He smiles broadly from ear to ear. His white eyes glitter with happiness. He looks like a boy who has just got a new toy.

'And I thought all of you are dead. How silly I am!' He grins and steps closer to Enoch. 'Well, but apparently, I'm not totally wrong, unless Malthus had missed something.'

The wight who brings the children here shakes his head.

'There are only eight children in the ship. I've searched the entire ship already,' he reports.

Barron frowns, but then, smiles again.

'Good, Malthus. I hope what you said is true.'

He turns to see his captives and fakes a very sad face, which, in the children's eyes, is extremely ugly.

'Oh my poor little children, I'm truly sorry. My condolences on the loss of your beloved friends.'

Little Claire almost objects, but Enoch holds her back. The element of surprise might be helpful for Jake and the rest.

'And I think soon I'll have to express my sincere condolences again for the loss of your Miss Peregrine.'

Enoch almost runs into Barron, but a wight behind him pulls him back, pressing the gun at the boy's neck instead. Barron laughs out loud and claps his hands.

'If you touch her,-' Enoch clenches his teeth.

'Oh, I assure you, boy, no one here will dare to touch her, unless he says so.'

'He?'

Barron smirks and looks over Enoch's shoulder, bowing like a very loyal dog.

Enoch turns to see three wights who have just entered the room. Two of them wear very worn-out clothes and no shoes, so it's not hard at all to assume that they have just transformed into a wight a few hours ago. The other, however, is in his best. He wears very fine suit with a little boutonnière on his left chest. His shoes are shiny black like they've been polished again and again. His raven hair is slicked back neatly and it makes his face look paler as if he is a ghost or something. His eyes are very sharp and, of course, white. Enoch hates every specimen of this man, but he feels like he has known this wight before. Something of this wight seems to be so familiar to the boy. But how could I know him?

'A wonderful trip, sir?' Barron asks the new comer, and if Enoch's ears can still function properly, he thinks he senses fear in Barron's voice.

'Yes, I guess,' that wight answers. His voice is so smooth, but also, so cold as if it's a warning that this man isn't a man you should mess with.

'At least, Eric and Ben could have enough eyes to turn back,' he continues. He speaks so slow like time isn't important for him.

'And what about the task I've asked you to accomplish, Mister Barron?' He walks pass the children like they're not there. The more he gets closer to Barron, the clearer Enoch can see fear in Barron's eyes.

'Oh, she is here, sir. Caged as you've asked for,' Barron replies at once. It's so obvious that he's trying his best to please that wight.

'Let her go!'

This time, Enoch is to obsessed with the pale wight that he cannot stop Claire in time. The little girl's voice draws both wights' attention, and for the pale one, he seems like he has just noticed the children are here.

Barron just stands still while the other glides towards the children. He doesn't smile. Actually, his face is so emotionless. Enoch is glaring at him dangerously and he looks back. His eyes can't tell the boy anything, but they remind him of someone, someone he knows very well, but who?

'And who are these lucky children? Supper for today?' The wight asks indifferently.

'Oh...,' Barron smiles and proudly presents his success, 'they're her children, sir. The rest of them, in fact.'

That's when Enoch sees the wight in front of him grins. And for some reasons, that grin is creepier than any corpses Enoch has worked with. He holds Little Claire tighter and steps in front of other children, standing between them and this poker-faced wight.

The wight stops a few inches before Enoch, his deadly eyes lock on the boy's. Then, he turns his head to the little girl in the boy's arms, and asks politely,

'What's your name, my dear?'

Claire's about to cry, obviously, and Enoch will not let that happen. Not here. Not in front of this wight.

'And who the hell are you?' Enoch asks, turning the wight's attention to him instead.

'Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk..child,' Caul tilts his head a little bit. 'Hasn't my sister ever taught you polite persons should not be rude to others?'

A brief moment of silence swallows the group of children when they have realized who he is. Enoch can feel his heart beat faster like it's going to pop out of his ribs in a minute. There's no need for further explanation at all. How comes I didn't recognize it, this pair of sharp eyes? It's the pair of eyes that looks into his everyday. It's the pair of eyes that watches over them every minute. It's Miss Peregrine's, or to put it correctly, it looks exactly like Miss Peregrine's.

'But since you've asked, Mister Bentham delighted to meet you.'

Mister Bentham doesn't offer Enoch a handshake at all, and although he does, Enoch's quite sure he won't accept it.

'Where is Miss Peregrine?' The boy asks, gritting his teeth in silent but quite obvious fury.

'My dear sister is at home now, with her beloved brothers. Well, think about it, if she is, well, your 'dear mother', does that make me your uncle, children?' The wight raises his eyebrow, pretending to be so eager to know the answer.

'Go to hell, wight!' Enoch growls. Language, Enoch! Yes, if she were here, she would say that, even though it's the wight he's talking to.

The smile on the wight's face slowly disappears, but then, Mister Bentham just laughs. It's the coldest laugh Enoch has heard as if this crazy man has just eaten a whole big bucket of ices. The boy doesn't want to admit it but he cannot lie to himself. Deep in his heart, fear bubbles. Now, he can still hide it, but for how long?

'Children, children, my sister must have forgotten to teach you how to be polite,' the wight stares at them all. 'I'm so disappointed in her.'

'No!' It's Bronwyn, followed by Fiona, 'she is the best mother one could ask for!'

'Yes! And a wight like you has nothing on her in every possible way.' It's Horace, and that sentence of his turns the wight's bright face into the very scary one.

Mister Bentham doesn't say anything more, and although that's good to the children's ears, they can't help feeling intimidated when the wight walks around the room for a while, seeming like he's chewing on something.

'Mister Barron,' finally, he calls one of his minions. 'How rude we are, greeting these wonderful children of my sister's like this.'

Barron seems blank at first, but then grins in satisfaction when his leader continues,

'I'm certain they want to...let's just say, play some games, our games.'

Mister Bentham turns to face the children again, smirking crazily like a lunatic.

'Do you want to play a game, children?'

How was it? Please at least say something! I just want to know what you think about this chapter. Thank you again for reading it.