The Child Thief (39 page)

Cricket stomped away up the trail.

“Hey, Cricket?” Danny called.

Cricket didn’t answer.

“You’re a real sweetheart.”

She flipped him the bird.

Danny looked at Nick, bounced the bag of mushrooms between his hands, lifted his eyebrows, and grinned.

Nick recognized the trail; Deviltree wasn’t much farther. He’d be glad when they made it; the bag of fruit and nuts he carried wasn’t light, plus the day was fading, the shadows growing dark. Nick didn’t really care to be out in the night.

There were no signs of new buds here, nothing but endless gray. Still, he sensed a current beneath the gray.
It’s the magic,
he realized—the Lady had opened his eyes to the magic. The hills around him felt like a winter woodland just before spring.

The dark feelings, the heat in his stomach, were completely gone. He felt the fatigue of the long day, but his spirit was alive, as though the magic of Avalon and his body were at last in harmony. His thoughts kept drifting back to the world behind the falls, the flowers, the magical animals, the sweet smells, the hundreds of little faerie folk…the
Lady. “The Lady,”
he whispered; she consumed his thoughts—her cerulean eyes, her silky hair, her pale skin, so white as to almost be blue. Visions of her soothed him. He felt…what? Love?
Yes
, he realized, like a mother’s love.

Nick stopped dead in his tracks. A stab of guilt jabbed his chest. “
Mom
,” he said. He realized with horror that he’d forgotten about his
own
mother. She’d not just slipped his mind, he’d completely forgotten her. She seemed a distant memory, someone he’d known forever ago. It was as though the Lady had, had—
what?
Pushed his mother from his mind? Had taken her place somehow? He concentrated on his mother’s face and this helped clear his mind. All at once the Lady’s words came back to him, raw and bare:
I am your life. I am your death. I am all things forever and always. Love me. Love me. Forever love me
. A chill ran down his spine.
She’s done more than healed me
, he realized.
She’s woven a spell
. He cut his eyes left and right, felt sure someone, something, everything, was watching him. Nick realized he had to return soon, because Avalon was a seductive place. Because goddesses were obviously jealous creatures that didn’t compete for devotion, not even with mothers. Nick had no doubt that if he didn’t leave soon, he’d never leave, and after a while all the memories of his mother would be lost forever.

Someone jabbed him. “You better keep your mouth shut.”

Nick started. He’d been so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed Leroy come up behind him. The others were ahead. Nick began walking again.

“Did you hear me?” Leroy said, speaking low.

Nick ignored him.

Leroy’s face twisted into a sneer. “Hey, I’m talking to you, asshole.” He jabbed his finger into Nick’s chest. “You ever bring that bullshit about Abraham up again and I’ll
kill
you…fucking
kill
you!”

A flash of Abraham’s face, his terrified eyes as he choked to death beneath the black water came to Nick, all because Leroy hadn’t taken the two seconds to pull him out of the bog. Nick felt anger—no heat in his stomach, no pounding in his head—just good old reliable rage, it swelled up in him and all he could see was Leroy, big, stupid Leroy standing there sneering at him.

“Fuck you!” Nick spat and slammed his sack into Leroy’s chest, slammed his fist into Leroy’s face, catching the bigger boy high on the cheek, knocking him to the ground. Both Nick’s sack and Leroy’s hit the ground, spilling fruit and nuts all across the trail.

Leroy put a hand to his cheek, his eyes wide. Whatever he’d expected from Nick, this was definitely not it. His hands clenched into fists and he started for his feet.

“ENOUGH!”
Sekeu cried from behind them. She stood on one leg, leaning against Tanngnost.

The troll cast hard eyes on Nick, scrutinizing him.

“He attacked me!” Leroy said. “Look at him, he’s crazy.”

Sekeu’s eyes blazed, but she wasn’t looking at Nick, her glare rested on Leroy. “You do not have the right to even talk to him. Not after what you did.”

Leroy’s mouth fell open. “What? No…you got it
wrong
! That bastard.” He jabbed a finger at Nick. “It’s his fault. He knocked
me
into the bog. He’s trying to pin this on me. Can’t you see that?” The way Leroy said it, Nick felt sure he truly believed it had happened that way.

“No,” Sekeu said, her words cold and flat. “That is not what happened.”

Leroy shook his head, his mouth worked, but he seemed unable to speak.

“You should be shamed, Leroy,” Sekeu said. “You should keep your head low.”

T
he shadows deepened and night came to the Lady’s Wood. Ulfger stood as still as a statue at the edge of the forest. He closed his eyes and opened himself to the night. He sensed the fish in the wading pool, the frogs, a lone fox, a pair of doves sharing a limb and cooing to each other. He sensed the bond between the birds, the love of lifelong mates. He pushed at them, told them to be afraid of each other, and felt the fear grip them, heard them flap away in different directions, as fast as they could fly.

Ulfger smiled and turned his attention to the elven barracks, the ornate longhouse that stood sentinel in the courtyard next to the Great Hall. The elves were back. He could sense all twenty-one of them within the wooden structure. They were not so easy to read as the animals, but he felt their excitement as they prepared for battle.

A door opened. A ray of torchlight flickered across the courtyard. Four elves came out with canteens strapped over their shoulders and headed down the path past the wading pools. Ulfger followed them to the ancient well and watched them filling the canteens. He hefted the broken blade and strolled toward them, not even bothering to hide his step. The elves caught sight of Ulfger and pulled their swords. Ulfger swung, meeting two of the swords mid-strike, smashing effortlessly through their block and cleaving both of their heads from their shoulders.

One of the remaining elves landed a blow across Ulfger’s midsection, but his armor deflected the cut. The other slashed across his upper arm, cutting deep into the muscle. Ulfger felt the heat of the wound and locked his eyes, his fiery eyes, on the elves and in that moment he found their fear, seized upon it with his mind, managed to hold them with it long enough to slam his sword onto the head of the forward elf, cleaving his skull in two, dashing the other in bits of blood and brains.

He grabbed the remaining elf around the neck, dug his fingers into flesh, and picked him up as though the elf weighed nothing. He could so easily snap the elf’s neck with one twist but instead he brought the black blade to the elf’s eye. The elf saw the poisonous edge and clawed frantically at Ulfger’s hand.

“Why do you squirm so?” Ulfger asked. “If you are true to Avallach, the blade won’t burn you.” He touched the edge to the elf’s cheek, made the slightest nick. The cut immediately began to blacken, to sizzle, to burn away from the bone like acid. Ulfger felt the heat beneath his hand as the poison spread inside the elf, felt the gurgling as the sizzling blood bubbled up the elf’s throat, pouring from his mouth, nose, eyes. Ulfger held him, enjoying every last tremor until at last the elf was still.

Ulfger dropped the elf, then examined the cut on his own arm. He was surprised to see that the wound wasn’t deeper, that there was no blood. It had been a strong strike. Then he noticed that the wound was shrinking, healing before his eyes. “I’m…I am truly a
god!
” he cried. “I
am
the Horned One.” He sucked in a deep breath of the night air. “Time for the child thief to meet Avallach’s true son.”

ULFGER WALKED THE
path through Devilwood without fear. He sensed the rare creature and when he did, he told it to be afraid, and the beasts fled before him. “Dread me,” he whispered. “Dread my coming!”

He searched the wood, looking for signs or trails that might lead him the right way, but more and more he relied on his senses, closing his eyes and seeking. Finally he caught the faintest glimmer, like a spark far in the distance, and as he homed in on that spark, he began to feel them, closer and closer until he stood before Deviltree.

“The child thief’s not here,” he snarled beneath his breath.
But she is, his dark-skinned bitch. I sense her pain.
A smile slowly snuck across his face.
To take her from him. Cut her into pieces, leave her head upon the spit, after all that fuss to save her. Why, that would bring him to his knees.
He laughed.
Give him a taste of what it is to lose that which is dear.

Ulfger pushed on the door. It was solid and locked tight. He circled the tree, but found no way in. He just needed someone to slide the bolt. He wondered if he could make one of the children do that. If he could just push them, like with the doves.

He closed his eyes and reached out with his mind, felt for them, grasping for a hold. He found the troll sleeping in the loft above. Ulfger quickly moved on. The old troll was full of tricks and unknown secrets, and Ulfger was afraid he just might touch him back. He located a girl, but she was too deep in sleep; next to her a boy, but he too was in a deep slumber. Ulfger found another boy, this one entrenched in dreams, the boy’s mind fairly danced with them, and no matter how hard Ulfger tried he couldn’t break through. He moved on, growing impatient, probing, searching until he found something else, something very intriguing: a boy by himself in a small room. This one wasn’t asleep, not by far. This one’s mind was open—
wide open
. Ulfger could feel the anger boiling off this boy, so much rage and hatred, both for himself and for
them
. The child was mad with it. And Ulfger realized this madness left him open, and so vulnerable.

Ulfger sent a thought, pushed it into the boy’s head.
Open the door
. The boy didn’t respond.
Open the door
. Nothing.
Open the door
.

Ulfger’s brow tightened with frustration. And then all at once he understood the nature of this great gift Avallach had bestowed upon him. He couldn’t control minds, after all, couldn’t make people do things they didn’t want to. He could only push them, push the workings that were already in place, such as fear, or hatred, or jealousy. He probed again and found something good, something he knew he could use.

Murder,
he thought and pushed the notion at the boy, and to his surprise, to his utter delight, it only took that nudge, that tiny whiff, and murder blossomed.

Nick awoke; for the first time since he’d arrived, he wasn’t covered in sweat and his stomach didn’t burn. Yet he still felt uneasy. He glanced at the round door. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something sinister was on the other side, waiting to be let in.

There was no sign that Peter and the Devils had come back yet. He wondered how late it was. Cricket and Danny were asleep in their cages, the long day looking to have caught up with them. They’d moved Sekeu’s cage over near the fireplace. He watched her twist fitfully in her sleep; her face appeared troubled, as though she were having a bad dream. Nick glanced to Leroy’s cage—it was empty.

Nick caught a faint sound, a squeal. It came again, a strained laugh or maybe a cry, hard to tell. Again, a faint sound, but this time Nick recognized it as a scream, something in pain. It came from the privy.

What the hell?
he thought and crawled from his cage. It was eerie with all the Devils gone. He listened, could hear the troll’s snores coming from the loft above, then the squeal, a long squeal. It sent a chill up his spine and he wondered how such a small sound could be so terrible.

Nick crossed the floor to the privy. The door was slightly ajar and a thin, flickering light escaped through the crack. Nick laid his hand on the door and started to push it inward, when it flew open and he was face to face with Leroy. But it was as though Leroy didn’t even see him; the boy’s eyes were looking past him toward the round door.

“He’s here,” Leroy whispered and shoved past Nick.

Before Nick could say or do anything, another painful squeal came from the privy. He glanced in, and his eyes went wide. There, on the stone next to the toilet pit, was a single crumbled pixie wing, a strand of bloody blue flesh dangling from the end.

The sharp squeal again, like a mouse in the teeth of a cat. It came from the toilet pit. Nick didn’t want to look, but he inched forward anyway and peered down the shaft. He saw two blue pixies tangled in the stringy black webbing, one a boy, the other a girl with a mane of wispy white hair. The girl appeared unharmed, but the boy looked dead, his body broken as though he’d been crushed, two bloody gashes on his back where his wings had been torn away.

The girl let loose a chilling scream and the blue glow of her skin pulsated, lighting up the shaft, and Nick saw them, far down the pit among the shit and stink, hundreds of black spiders, the blue radiance glittering off their tiny, cold eyes. He could hear their clatter as they scrambled up the web. The girl screamed again and fought to free herself.

The spiders reached the boy, swarmed over him, and the boy let out a shrill wail. “Oh, God!” Nick cried, upon realizing the boy still lived. “Oh,
good God
!” The spiders tore the boy from the web, pulled him down into the pit, and he disappeared beneath their black, oily bodies.

The spiders came for the girl.

Get her out
, Nick told himself.
Now! Hurry!
“NO!” he said harshly.
She’s too far down. There’s no way. No—way!
Yet he found himself down on one knee, his hand hovering above the pit. “No! No!” he spat through clenched teeth. Then the spiders were on her. She screamed and Nick plunged his entire arm into the pit, tearing down through the gummy webbing. He grabbed the pixie and in doing so also grabbed a handful of spiders. He could feel their hard, hairy legs and soft, soggy bodies as they writhed in his grasp, felt their hot secretions spurt into his hand as he tugged them from the web.

A jab of pain, like a wasp sting, hit his palm, then another and another. He cried out, but didn’t let go of the girl. He sat up quick, yanking his arm and the pixie from the pit. Long, syrupy strings of web stretched and snapped as he pulled away. The spiders clung to his hand like leeches, their flat, tick-like bodies creased and wrinkled, glistening with sticky, milky goo. He dropped the girl to the stones and frantically slapped and clawed the spiders from his arm, leaping to his feet, trying to stomp them as they skittered about like crabs, darting back into the pit.

Angry red welts dotted his hand and wrist. He wiped at his arm, trying to peel away the smelly webbing. He noticed the pixie; she too was covered in filth and webbing. Her wings trembled and her eyes were full of terror, but she looked like she might be okay.

Nick heard Leroy’s laugh.

Leroy walked into the flickering lantern light, stopped, and peered in. Nick saw that Leroy held a sword, then realized it was Maldiriel. Leroy smiled a strange, vacant smile and walked on.

“What the fuck?” Nick said under his breath and rushed from the privy.

It took a second for Nick’s eyes to adjust to the darkness.
Where did he go?
Nick saw Leroy in front of the fireplace. He stood over Sekeu’s cage. And then, like it was nothing to him, like he was simply poking a bundle of hay, Leroy brought the sword up and shoved it down through the cage into Sekeu’s neck.

Sekeu’s eyes flashed open; a terrible gurgle escaped her throat.

“NO!”
Nick screamed and charged, ran as hard as he could, but felt as though moving through syrup as Leroy tugged the blade free and brought it down again, and again, and again. Blood gushed from Sekeu’s neck as she flailed against the cage, struggled to escape, but she was trapped, like an animal for slaughter. The sharp blade cut into her arms, her hands, her chest, then into her face.

Nick hit him, slammed into Leroy at a full run, knocking the bigger boy against the mantel. Maldiriel flew from Leroy’s hand, clattered across the stone. Nick snatched the sword up and came for Leroy.

Leroy looked dazed, confused, then caught sight of Nick, saw the bloody sword in Nick’s hand, and his eyes went wide. “
STAY AWAY FROM ME!
” he shrieked.

“
WHAT’S GOING ON?
” came a deep, booming voice, and Nick was confronted by a blinding flame. Nick stopped, blinked, then saw Tanngnost standing before him with a torch in one hand and an ax in the other; behind the troll stood Cricket and Danny, their faces ashen and horrified.

The torchlight revealed more than Nick ever wanted to see. Blood bubbled from the slash in Sekeu’s throat as she tried to speak. A wet, sucking sound came from the wounds in her chest. She met Nick’s eyes and seemed to be begging him to help her. A clot of blood spat from her lips and she was still, her unblinking eyes frozen on his.

Leroy raised a shaking hand and pointed an accusing finger at Nick. “He…killed…her. I saw it. Saw it all. He’s crazy. I tried to warn you. He’s fucking
crazy
!”