The Child Thief (19 page)

There were various other impish creatures, some more beast than manlike. Peter noticed two elven women, one with skin as black as coal, the other pink as roses. They lay coiled in each other’s arms, their eyes closed as they kissed and licked each other’s mouths, their hands lost beneath each other’s dresses. A child—an infant really—with a single red horn jutting from its forehead puffed away on a pipe, his eyes heavy as though lost in a dream. There were at least three faerie folk passed out on the floor, one of them snoring loud enough to be heard even over the ruckus.

Sour-faced servants moved in and out of the chamber, carrying trays, pouring wine into goblets, and complaining loudly to each other all at the same time. Over in one corner four stout faerie folk with bristly beards that fell all the way to their knees were playing flutes and plucking at string instruments, creating a whimsical melody.

Several servants came in and hastily laid out a table setting before an elegant, high-backed chair. The chair was by far the tallest in the room, formed of delicate white roots and branches. It appeared to have grown straight from the floor, its limbs reaching upward, weaving together into a symmetrical arch that nearly touched the top of the dome. The uppermost limbs sprouted into an umbrella of draping leaves. Tiny sprites played in the leaves, their multicolored lights blinking on and off.

The Lady leaned over to Peter. “Wait here with Drael.” She strolled to the chair. The band stopped playing and most of the attendees rose as she was seated. The Lady smiled and inclined her head. The dinner guests dropped back into their chairs, returning to their food and conversation as though nothing had happened.

Hiisi, the red-skinned man, sat on the Lady’s left. He leaned over. “My Lady, Tanngnost has asked to speak.”

The Lady let out a sigh. “Can I not at least eat first?”

“He’s just returned from the lands of men-kind. If he doesn’t get to speak soon, I fear he will simply burst.”

“Oh, dear. I wouldn’t wish our beloved Tanngnost to burst, not here in my chamber anyway. I guess we have little choice but to let him say his bit.”

Hiisi stood and banged his fork against his goblet. Most everyone ignored him. “Tonight, Council,” he said. “A dear old friend has graced us with his pungency. I’ve composed a rhyme in honor of this most un-notable occasion. Shall I?”

Several heads shook in dire disapproval, but the Lady smiled. “Why yes, dear Hiisi. By all means, proceed.”

Hiisi smiled, flicked his eyebrows, then cleared his throat. “I bestow a special troll. One who is dear to heart when he is apart, and hard to bear when he is near. But his lack of charm does no harm. Yes, the harbinger of doom and gloom is back in the room.” He inclined his head across the table to a tall figure cloaked in long, tattered gray robes. “Back from his daring jaunt across the lands of men-kind, I give you no other than—
Tanngnost.
”

The troll, who didn’t look as though he appreciated his introduction in the least, stood up to a spattering of weak applause. He appeared more beast than man, much taller than the elves, taller even than any man Peter had ever seen. He was stooped and appeared ancient but not frail; solidly built, like a stag. His legs were those of a great woolly elk, while his upper body resembled that of a man. A mane of sand-colored hair rolled down his shoulders in thick tangles, framing a long, goatlike snout. Golden, intelligent eyes peered out from beneath thick, drooping brows. Broad horns curled outward from the sides of his head, and thick tusks jutted from his mouth.

Under most circumstances, such an imposing beast would have frightened Peter, but something in this creature’s bearing spoke of graciousness, even refinement.

The troll bowed to the Lady, cleared his throat. “I am at your service,” he said in a deep baritone. “It is truly an honor to attend the ever-fair Lady Modron, daughter of Avallach, Great Lady of the Lakes, Goddess of—”

“Yes, yes, don’t you start with all that silliness,” the Lady said, waving her hand as though shooing a fly. “You’ll not flatter me. You want something or you’d not be here my dear Tanngnost. Something besides the feasting; which I see you’ve done your share.”

The troll dropped a guilty glance at the five dirty plates stacked before him.

“What ill tidings do you bring today?” she asked. “Go on, spill the beans. Get it over with.”

Tanngnost inclined his head. “Lady, you mustn’t slay the messenger.”

“A very wise old saying indeed,” Hiisi interjected. “Unless of course that messenger so happens to be a minder, meddler, and manipulator of other people’s business.”

This brought plenty of snickers from around the tables.

Tanngnost gave the Lady a long-suffering look. “Modron, if I may be so bold? How did the visit with your father go today?”

The table fell quiet and all eyes turned to the Lady.

The Lady’s face clouded.

Tanngnost let out a regretful sigh. “I see.”

Somber murmurings hummed around the tables and several folk began to speak at once.

“Why has Avallach abandoned us?” the boar called out, his words slurred. “Why now, when we need him most?”

“Why does he not hear us?” an elf demanded.

“He is dead,” shouted a smallish gray man with donkey ears.

“No, not dead. Avallach cannot die you ass. He is just gone.”

“We’re lost without his hand,” someone cried from under the table.

“We’ve angered him,” added a peevish green man with leaves for hair.

“We must placate him.”

“A living sacrifice!” a rosy-cheeked lady cried out.

The plump folk all raised their mugs and cheered at that. “Blood, blood, blood.”

“
AVALLACH IS GONE!
” the Lady spoke, her voice commanding, not loud, yet somehow rising above the ruckus. She came to her feet, eyes gleaming, her shadow growing tall, darkening the room. She looked both beautiful and dangerous, and for a moment, Peter was afraid. The room fell quiet. “It is time we all accept that.” She looked from face to face, daring any to challenge her. “We are his children. But do we wish to be children forever? It is time we face our trials on our own.”

No one spoke for a long minute.

“Aye,” the boar said, setting a hand on the table to steady himself. “That’s very stoic and all, my Lady, but where does that leave us? I mean really? What are we supposed to do with that?”

“It means it’s time to stop waiting for Avallach to save you,” called a boy’s voice.

All eyes turned to find Ulfger standing in the doorway. He walked in and stood next to the Lady. “It’s time to end the decadence and debauchery. To think about something other than wine and lust and song. It is time for Avalon to embrace order and discipline or
die.
”

The boar dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “With all due respect Lord Ulfger.” The boar let out a short burp. “I’d rather not be preached to by a boy.”

“Maybe it would do you some good to give him a listen,” the troll said.

“Those are not even his words,” the boar stammered as he refilled his goblet. “We all know he’s merely a mouthpiece for his mudder, muther—his
mother
.”

Ulfger stiffened and the Lady set a hand on his shoulder.

“And where is your father, Lord Ulfger?” the boar growled. “Where is the mighty Horned One? Why does he not come and talk with us?”

“That is not his way,” Tanngnost said. “You know that well enough.”

“I know he’s not here,” the boar said. “Just what does it take to bring him out of his deep dark forest cave?”

This was met with expectant nods and lively quibbling, and again the chamber disintegrated into bickering.

The Lady’s shoulders slumped and she sat back into her chair. Her eyes drifted away as though she were somewhere else. She looked very sad to Peter, and he wanted to go to her, wanted to do whatever he could to cheer her up. Then her eyes found him and she smiled. She came to her feet. “Today I was sent a gift.”

The room quieted as one by one the occupants looked her way.

“Maybe it came from Avallach, maybe it sprouted from a cabbage. Either way, a most wonderful delight.” She pointed to Peter.

All heads turned to Peter. He blushed and slid behind Drael.

“This boy fell into the clutches of Greenteeth herself,” she said. “Did he wait for Avallach to save him? No, not him. This brave child singlehandedly burned out the witch’s eye and escaped from her very lair!”

An astonished gasp came from every attendee at the table. Several stood to get a better view of Peter.

“Lord Ulfger is right. We can no longer afford to wait for Avallach. Like this boy, we need to save ourselves. We need to take all the wonderful gifts that Avallach has bestowed upon us and make good use of them.

“Peter,” the Lady called. “Don’t be bashful. Come here and sit beside me.”

The old elf nudged Peter and Peter dashed over to the Lady’s chair. The Lady pulled him into her lap.

“Where did he come from?” the boar asked.

“From the lands of men-kind,” the Lady said. “Through the stones.”

Hiisi poked one of Peter’s feet. “What is he?”

“A human boy, I think,” the Lady said. “But look.” She flipped back his hair, exposing the pointed tips of his ears. “He seems to have some faerie in him as well.”

They all leaned forward.

“Modron,” Ulfger said. “What does he have to do with—”

“Tanngnost?” the Lady asked. “How can such come to be?”

“Most curious,” Tanngnost said. “I’ve never seen the like. Have you?”

The Lady shook her head. “I didn’t know it was possible.”

“Does he not remember his parents?”

“Not his father,” the Lady said. “His mother was human. It was she that left him to die in the forest.”

“Men-kind are such cruel beasts,” the boar huffed.

“So, the faerie in him comes from his father,” Tanngnost remarked absently and stroked his hairy chin.

“Modron,” Ulfger said. “This is exactly why nothing ever gets done. We need to discuss—”

“Maybe one of the satyrs,” the boar suggested, and everyone looked to the red-skinned, horned man.

Hiisi grinned. “Well, I’ve certainly fucked my way through every young maiden I could catch. But to my knowledge, all I’ve ever left behind in those sullied maidens was the flush of orgasmic delights.”

An old faerie lady with drooping wings and powdered cleavage nudged the boar. “If the satyr’s seed could sprout, why we’d have a couple million pointy-eared mongrels running about. Aye.” She winked at Hiisi and let loose a cackle.

“He can travel between the worlds?” the troll asked.

The Lady cut the troll a suspicious look. “Tanngnost, don’t start your scheming. I’ll not have you using this boy toward your ends.”

Tanngnost looked taken aback. “My Lady, I would never dream such.”

The Lady laughed. “Of course not, and Hiisi would never diddle a virgin.”

This drew several snickers.

“Besides,” the Lady said. “You cannot have him. He has told me he wishes nothing more than to serve in my Guard.”

“You’d be lucky to have one so brave,” said Hiisi.

“I would. Not only is he stouthearted, but talented as well,” the Lady said like a proud mother. “Peter, let them hear the forest.”

Peter beamed, drinking in all the attention, their curiosity making him bold. He started with a frog’s croak, then the chattering of a squirrel, a hooting monkey, then lifted his head and howled, the sound resounding off the dome. He played through a dozen birdcalls and ended with a rooster’s crow.

The hall burst into laughter and applause. If Peter had grinned any wider his face would have split in two.

“Modron,” Ulfger growled. “Please, there are important matters to—”

“All in good time, Ulfger,” the Lady said. “But first, I want you to hear something. It might do your spirit good. Come, sit here beside me.”

Ulfger shook his head, but sat down.

“Now, Peter,” the Lady whispered. “The Sunbird.”

Peter drew in a deep breath, sat up straight, cocked his head back, and began the song. The hall fell silent, even the servants stopped, all of them listening in stunned silence as his song echoed and resonated around the chamber, the acoustics of the dome amplifying the tune and the green ambient light of the pool brightening in response.

Peter finished and looked around, expecting more applause. Instead he was met by faraway eyes, half-opened mouths, some of them even weeping. Peter wondered what he’d done. He glanced at the Lady, unsure. Saw that she too had tears in her eyes.

“That was beautiful, Peter,” she said and her wonderful smile fell on him and he knew he’d done well.

“Truly breathtaking,” the old faerie lady blurted out, dabbing away at her eyes.

“Ulfger,” the Lady said. “Does his song not touch your heart?”

Ulfger looked as though he’d drunk sour milk.

Hiisi stood up and began to clap, the rest followed his lead, all except for Ulfger, who sat stoned-faced, digging his nails into his palms.

PETER WAS BROUGHT
a plate of food. One sullen-faced servant actually smiled at him and slipped him a honey pie. Peter ate his fill and then some, and soon the drone of warm conversation, the soft music, and hypnotic glow of the pool made him drowsy. He rested his head against the Lady’s breast.

The Lady slipped her arms about him and began to softly twirl his hair. She smelled of pond water and honeysuckle, and these scents, like his mother’s sweet milk of so long ago, filled him with contentment. He was where he belonged, by the Lady’s side, for always and forever.

Hiisi slid over a few chairs and began to flirt with a blushing elven maiden. Tanngnost came around, taking a seat next to the Lady. He leaned over and spoke low. “My Lady I would speak with you.”

The Lady sighed. “You cannot stand the sight of me being happy, not even for a moment. Can you, you fretful old goat?”

Tanngnost shook his head sorrowfully. “There is nothing I wish more than your happiness. But…things are worse than we feared.”

“Yes, I know. I read that much in your eyes.”