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through the tall trees along the path, casting those sharp shadows on the ground, but this time it wasn’t a shadow I saw moving behind me. I’d caught a glimpse of someone moving from one side of the woods to the other. I dropped back from the rest of the group without being noticed. If anything, they wanted to leave me behind like the first time we’d been here. They wished I didn’t exist, and that made it easier to be invisible.
    I didn’t have to drop back very far before darting into the woods at the edge of the narrow, winding path. They’d only assume I was falling behind as usual and leave me be, at least that’s what I thought as I quickly doubled back on the side where I was sure I’d seen someone. I fought through underbrush and worked my way around a series of tall trees, but there was no one.
    What I wouldn’t give to be able to hear a little better, I thought. If only I could listen for someone walking or running away, I’d know where to go. I was about to run back and catch up to the others before they realized I was gone, and that’s when I saw it, caught on a sharp limb of a tree. I edged closer, peering in every direction for signs of life, and grabbed what I’d found.
    I held it tightly in my hand as I jumped back onto the path and double-timed it around two twisting corners, seeing the group up ahead. They were slowing down as I came in close, looking back at me like I’d been there all along.
    I stuffed what I’d found into my front pocket before anyone else could see it.
    As my fingers felt the softness of the item, it made me feel even surer that something wasn’t right at Fort Eden.
    It was scary, this thing I’d found, for one very important reason.
    It proved that we were not alone.
    Someone else was hiding out at Fort Eden.
    â€œAny of you ever been in the pump house?” Mrs. Goring asked, breaking her silence as we came to the dock.
    No one raised a hand as Connor leaned down and splashed water on his face, but all eyes were on the run-down wooden structure that sat next to the pond. It was small, like the gardening shed in my backyard at home, and it looked like it might not make it through a hard winter.
    â€œIt’s not really a pump house,” Mrs. Goring continued. Then she walked away in the direction of the thing we were talking about and left us all scratching our heads about what was really inside.
    She took a ring of keys out of her pocket and went to work on a big padlock at the door while Alex joked lamely about how easy it would be to put his foot through one of the walls and walk right in. When the heavy lock was removed, Mrs. Goring flung the door open and stood aside.
    â€œWhen you get to the bottom, you’ll find a room. Your vials are stored in there with all the others.”
    â€œThe others ? Wait—what others ?” Kate asked.
    â€œHe’s been at this a long time, or did I neglect to mention that?”
    Ben Dugan peered inside the dark, damp space, and when he talked his voice had a soft echo. “How old is Rainsford, really?”
    Mrs. Goring wouldn’t say, but I thought I had an answer.
    â€œSeven vials for every time he went from old to young, only the seventh person keeps theirs on them. So all we have to do is divide the number of vials we find by six. If there are sixty vials down there, he’s ten times seventy. He’d be seven hundred years old.”
    â€œAre we getting this done or doing algebra?” Connor complained. “If there are a bunch of vials down there, how will we know which ones are ours?”
    â€œYou’ll know,” said Mrs. Goring impatiently. “Trust me, it will be obvious.”
    â€œAnd why don’t you just get them yourself?” Alex suggested.
    â€œThe way down isn’t for someone old like me, and the door is too heavy at the bottom. I can’t open it.”
    â€œWhy do we all have to go down there?”