Jack, the giant-killer (15 page)

alongside her neighbour’s house, pulling Kate with him. Softly they crept across the driveway, hugging the walls of Kate’s building as they stole up to a window to have a look. One glance was all that was needed.

“Bogans,” Kate said, seeing them for what they were with Jacky’s redcap on. “Shit. Now what’re we going to do?”

“We don’t need to go inside, do we?” Arkan asked.

“It’s only your car we came for.”

“But the keys are inside. I’ve only got my

housekeys on me.”

“Where is the car?”

“We
need
the keys to the car,” she told him. “Or do you know how to hotwire it?”

Arkan nodded.

Kate stared at him. “You
do
?”

“Just because I’m part of Faerie, doesn’t make me stupid. ”

“Yes, but you don’t drive cars.”

“Who told you that?”

“Well, no one. It’s just in all the stories.”

A foxish grin stole across Arkan’s face. “There weren’t many cars in Shakespeare’s plays either.”

“Yes. But they didn’t have cars back then…”

Kate’s voice trailed off. Right, she thought. And they didn’t have them when people were putting together fairy tales either. Andrew Lang hadn’t been much of a hotrodder and Perrault wasn’t known for his skill in the Grand Prix. And when she thought of Jacky’s Wild Hunt… black-leathered bikers on their Harleys… Well, who was to say what a denizen of Faerie might or might not know?

“Well, let’s get to it,” she said.

She led the way to where Judith, her VW, was sitting in the driveway. She cast a quick glance back at the apartment— that was her life the bogans were prying into now,
her
personal space—then she bit down the rising tide of resentment. Jacky was what was important now. Not her apartment.

They reached the Volkswagen. The driver’s door opened with a small protesting creak. The interior light didn’t come on, but that wasn’t through any forethought on Kate’s part. It had simply burnt out a few months ago and she hadn’t bothered to replace it yet.

“Judith,” Kate hissed. “Help us out and I’ll get you an oil change as soon as this is all over—I promise.”

Arkan regarded her with amusement, then slid in. He bent down to fiddle with the wiring under the dashboard, leaving Kate to stand nervously by the open door. She plucked at the quilting of Jacky’s blue jacket that she was still carrying. Something caught her gaze, a rapid movement in the corner of her eye that was there and gone so quickly that she barely registered it. She started to put on the jacket.

“Arkan,” she warned. “There’s something out here.”

When she had the jacket on—and it had better be working, she thought—she moved away from the car, looking for something she could use as a weapon. No pack of bogans was going to bonk her on the head again and leave her sprawling, thank you very much. The next-door neighbour’s rake was leaning against his back porch.

All right, Kate thought as she made for it, going on tiptoes. There. She saw something move again. Just around the corner of her house. And she could hear whispering now. A dry, unfamiliar smell was in the air. Her fingers closed on the rake. The weight of it was comforting as she soft-stepped her way back to the car. She was about to call out to Arkan—just to ask what was taking the great faerie car booster so long—

when she saw something big and bulking glide from the front of the house and move soundlessly towards Judith’s open door.

Not feeling brave, just angry, the rake tight in sweaty hands, Kate moved in behind the creature. She let him get nice and close to the car, then swung the rake behind her head and brought it around in a sweeping arc until it connected with the head of whatever it was that had been sneaking up on Arkan. The wet sound as it hit and the jarring blow that went right up her arms to her elbows killed any satisfaction she got from her deed.

The big shape dropped like a felled ox. The rake dropped from Kate’s hands. She saw Arkan jump at the double sound, knocking his head against the dashboard.

“It’s… it’s okay,” Kate called in a loud whisper. “I got him.”

Whatever “him” was. She bent to retrieve the rake just in time to see a collection of small lanky creatures come scurrying from around the back of the house. Oh, shit, she thought. There had to be fifteen or twenty of the things. They were small, shadowy shapes, like the silhouetted branches of winter trees come to life. As they scurried forward, that dry smell was in the air again…

“Look out!” she called to Arkan as she ran to meet them, trusty rake in her hand.

The VW’s engine coughed into life on the heels of her words. Kate threw the rake at the foremost creatures and watched them go down. The ones immediately behind fell over their leaders as she bolted for the car. Arkan had it in gear and was backing down the drive while she was still opening the door.

“Wait for me!” she cried.

She hauled the door open and flung herself inside. Arkan floored the gas pedal and Judith lunged out onto the road, passenger’s side door flapping. Pulling in her feet, Kate grabbed the loose door, kicked away a couple of over-zealous twig-creatures, and banged it shut. She braced herself as the VW skidded to a stop. Arkan slammed the car into first and Judith leapt forward, leaving rubber on the pavement behind her. The sudden movement thrust Kate against her seat. Arkan changed smoothly from first to second, into third. Looking out through the rear window, Kate saw that they were losing the little band of creatures.

“Nice timing,” she said as she turned around to face front once more. “God, what were those things?”

“A kind of goblin.”

Arkan shot her a foxish grin. The longer she was with him, the more he looked like good old Reynard, Kate thought.

“A kind of goblin,” she said. “Lovely.” Another thought came to her. “Can you see me?”

Arkan shook his head, concentrating on his driving.

“No. But I can hear your melodious voice, so I assume you’re with me.”

Oh, he was a cool one, Kate thought. But she liked him better like this than as the penitent that had met her at the bottom of the Gruagagh’s garden.

“So what kind of goblins were they?” she asked as she worked at removing the blue jacket in the confines of the car.

“Gullywudes. Tree goblins.”

Kate stifled a giggle. She’d almost heard gollywogs. Then, jeez, she thought. Look at me. I just fought off a pack of these gullywudes, knocked a bogan for a loop, and I’m sitting here laughing about it all. Like it happens every day. Another giggle slipped out and she put a firm clamp on any more. This wasn’t funny. This was being hysterical.

As she finally got the jacket off, Arkan gave her a quick glance.

“I know, I know,” Kate said. “I shouldn’t be, but I’m feeling giddy as a goose.”

“It often happens when mortals mix with faerie,”

Arkan replied. “It’s a natural reaction—no different from how you’d feel after a moment of stress. And you’ve just been going through both.”

“So now you’re a doctor?”

“It’s a common fact—did no one tell you?”

“No.”

Great, Kate thought. First I’ve got to worry about Jacky turning into a trickster, and now I’m turning into a giggly basketcase. And then she had something else to worry about.

They had just reached a red light at the corner of Sunnyside and Bank and Arkan took a sharp right without stopping. Kate grabbed for the handle hanging above the passenger’s door. Okay. So it was legal to make a right on the red in Ontario, but couldn’t he at least have stopped and
looked
? There was a sudden blare of car horns and screeching brakes behind them.

“It’d be nice if we made it there in one piece,” she muttered.

Arkan didn’t take his gaze from the road. “It’d also be nice if we didn’t have the Hunt on our tail.”

“The Hunt… ?”

Kate turned again and saw three Harleys coming around the corner, cutting off more cars.

“Oh, jeez.” She turned back. Lansdowne Bridge was coming up fast. “I thought you had to be from Faerie or wearing a redcap to see them?”

“You do. I’m from Faerie and you’re—”

“Wearing a redcap. Yeah. I know. But the other cars on the road aren’t, and they can see ’em.” She looked back. The three bikers were gaining.

“Take off the cap and you’ll see what they see.”

So she did. There were still three motorcycles back there, but now they looked like they were being driven by members of a biker gang like the Devil’s Dragon.

“The last time I took off the cap they just disappeared.”

“Were they in traffic?”

“No, there was just one of them, sitting on my street, watching the house.”

“They occupy space,” Arkan explained, “even when invisible. In traffic like this they must be seen or a car might run into them.”

“So they can be hurt?”

“It would… delay them.”

They were up the hill of Lansdowne Bridge and barrelling down the other side. Still going fast. Very fast. Kate wondered if some hob skillyman had stitched a few spells into Judith’s tires.

“What do you mean ‘delay them’?” she asked.

“They would have to find new bodies.”

“New… Right. Forget I asked.” She leaned back to look out the rear window again. “I thought all nine had to be together before they attacked?”

“True enough. But there only needs to be one, if all they are doing is following us.”

Kate turned to face front, swallowing thickly. “Turn here,” she said as the entrance to the Lansdowne Park came up.

Arkan’s response was instantaneous. They went around the corner on two wheels, tires screeching again.

“Jeez!” Kate protested. “Be still my heart.”

But then the headlights picked out a small figure standing in the middle of the parking lot by the Civic Centre. It was Jacky! The head with its freshlycropped stubble was familiar now. Only why was Jacky standing there in her bra, with her shirt hanging from her hand? Arkan put the gas pedal to the floor once more.

“Arkan!” Kate cried. “That’s Jacky!”

“I know. But she’s not alone.”

Not alone? Kate fumbled for the redcap and stuck it back on her head. The scene in front of her leapt into a new focus. There was Jacky, as before, but there was a man standing with her as well. All around them was a whole forest of gully wudes. Down the steps of the Civic Centre a flood of bogans and other creatures were descending. Not to mention that behind the VW

was a third of the Hunt. Perfect. All they needed was a Big Man or two and—

She braced herself, hands against the dash, when she realized what Arkan was up to. As he neared Jacky and the man, he suddenly hauled left on the wheel. The responsible little VW lunged at the nearest bunch of twig-creatures, mowing them down. And like bundled twigs, the gullywudes just seemed to come apart, spraying bits of wood everywhere. Arkan spun the wheel some more. The tires screeched on the pavement as he swept through a second, third, fourth grouping. He made three circuits, then brought the car to a shrieking halt.

This time Kate was prepared. As soon as the car stopped, she had the door open. She scrunched herself forward against the windshield, hauling the seat with her so that Jacky and her friend could get into the back.

“Kate!” Jacky cried. “Oh, God, am I glad to—

“In, in, IN!” Kate cried.

For the first time Jacky seemed to be aware of the three members of the Hunt. The howl of their bikes was loud, drowning out the cries of the Unseelie Court as it rushed down the final steps of the Civic Centre. Without another word, Jacky crawled into the back seat, tugging on Eilian’s arm until he followed her. The Laird’s son was still getting in when Arkan pulled away again.

“Now where to?” he asked nobody in particular.

“Some place safe,” Kate said quickly. She was leaning over the back seat, grabbing for Jacky’s hands.

“You’re okay! How’d you get out?”

Jacky was a-glow with excitement. “I did it, Kate! I killed a giant. I really did. Just like you said I would.”

“You
what
?”

“I killed…” Then the wonder of it all drained from Jacky’s features as what she was saying hit home. She’d killed someone. Dead. Finito binito. “Oh jeez,”

she said.

A sick feeling came over her. She began to tremble, her eyes filling with tears, and she buried her face in the shoulder of the young man sitting beside her. Kate looked at him, wanting to know who he was and what part he’d had in all of this, when Arkan demanded her attention again.

“Mistress Kate,” he said. “
Where
safe?”

He was still going around in circles in the parking lot. The headlights kept giving them glimpses of hordes of gully-wudes, bogans, hags, shelly-coats and goblins. And the three riders of the Hunt. As he drew near to the latter, Arkan suddenly dropped into a lower gear and tromped the gas pedal, twisting the wheel at the same time. The VW’s fender clipped the nearest biker’s machine. He went flying, his bike skidding across the pavement in a shower of sparks.

“I don’t knoooow!” Kate wailed. Everything was just too wild.

“A restaurant,” the stranger in the back seat said. “A place with lots of light and many people.”

“Right,” Arkan said. He straightened the wheel and aimed Judith for the gates of the parking lot. Kate took a deep steadying breath, let it out. Too quickly, but it didn’t matter. It had helped.

“That won’t stop them… will it?” she asked.

“With Cormoran dead,” the stranger said, “the creatures have no leader to tell them what to do. They naturally avoid the well-lit public places of man, even in a moment such as this—unless ordered otherwise.”

“She really killed one of the Big Men?” Arkan asked.

“Wart-nosed Cormoran—and she did it all on her own.”

“Damn,” Arkan muttered. He brought the car out onto the road in a skidding turn, then immediately slowed down and tried to blend in with the sporadic traffic on Bank Street. “That I’d like to have seen.”

“What about the Hunt?” Kate asked. “Won’t they still follow?”

“They’ll follow,” the stranger said.

Kate sighed. “And they won’t be happy. We hurt one of them back there.”

Jacky’s companion shook his head. “Discomforted him, perhaps, but the riders of the Hunt are not so easily hurt.”