Running with the Demon (54 page)

But there were so many.
Too many! Too many!

She clasped her head between her arms and closed her eyes, screaming defiantly.

Then suddenly the feeders were gone back into the night, and she was alone again. She lifted her head and found the demon watching her, amusement reflected in his pale eyes.

He started toward her again, a slow advance through the empty gloom and soft rain.

“Wraith!” she cried out desperately.

Abruptly, the big ghost wolf appeared. He emerged from the trees behind the demon and stalked into the ravaged clearing with his massive head lowered and his hackles raised. Nest felt her heart leap as her giant protector advanced on the demon.

The demon stopped and looked casually over his shoulder. Wraith stopped as well.

The demon turned back to Nest, smiling. “I have a confession to make,” he said. “I have been keeping something from you. Would you like to know what it is? It’s rather important.” Nest said nothing, suddenly terrified. He was enjoying the moment. “It’s about this creature. Your protector. It’s an elemental, a thing created of magic and the elements, a sort of familiar. You probably think your grandmother made it; maybe she even told you she did. But she didn’t. I did.”

His words spun through the silence like chips of jagged metal, cutting apart what remained of Nest’s courage and resolve. She stared at him in disbelief. “You’re lying.”

He shook his head. “Think about it. I left you behind after you were born. Why would I do that if I thought any harm would come to you? You were my child; quite possibly you would have magic at your command. The feeders would be drawn to you. At times, you would be in danger.” He shrugged. “So I created a protector to watch over you, to keep you from harm.”

She shook her head slowly. “I don’t believe you.”

“No?” He laughed softly. “Watch.”

He turned back to Wraith and made a quick gesture. Wraith sat back on his haunches obediently. The demon smiled at
Nest. He made another gesture, and Wraith lay down and put his head between his paws, docile and responsive.

The demon faced Nest once more. “See?” He gave her a wink.

Nest felt the last of her hope fade, watched her last chance for survival drift off into the night.
Use your magic. Trust Wraith
. But Wraith was his creature.
His
. The truth burned in her throat and left her dizzy and sick inside.

Oh, my God, my God! What am I supposed to do now?

The demon spread his arms in a gesture intended to convey his sympathy. “You’re all alone, Nest. There isn’t anyone left for you to turn to except me. But maybe that isn’t as bad as you think. Let me take your hands in mine. Just for a few moments. Let me touch you. I can make you see things in different ways. I can give you an understanding of who you really are. What harm can come from that? If you don’t like what you see, I’ll leave.”

But he wouldn’t, she knew. He would never leave. And if she let him touch her as he wanted, she would be destroyed forever. She would be subverted in ways she could not begin to imagine. Her father was anathema to her. To any human. He was a demon, and there was nothing good that could come from embracing any part of what he offered.

“Stay away from me,” she told him for the second time that night.

But he came toward her anyway, certain of himself now, confident that he held her fate in his hands, that there was nothing she could do to stop him. Nest was shaking with fear and helpless anger, but she stood her ground. There was nowhere to run and no reason to try. Sooner or later, he would find her. The feeders began to edge out from the shadows again, their eyes brightening. She felt the rain fall steadily on her face, and she realized her clothing was soaked. Behind, through the trees of the deep woods, the fireworks were still exploding in a series of ragged bangs and whumps.

I will not become like him
, she told herself then.
I will never let that happen. I will die first
.

She waited until he was so close she could make out the
lines of his face in the gloom, and then she attacked him with her magic. She struck out with ferocious determination, using every bit of power she could summon. She met his gaze squarely, locked his eyes with hers, and went after him. He was not expecting it. The force of her assault jolted him back a step, shook him from head to foot. His mouth opened in surprise, and his eyes went wide. But he did not collapse as Danny Abbott and Robert Heppler had. He kept his feet. His face underwent a frightening transformation, and for a moment she could see clearly the depth of his evil.

“You foolish little girl!” he hissed in undisguised fury.

He came at her again, stronger this time, breaking past her defenses, brushing aside her attack. She retreated from him, trying to bring more power to bear, to slow him, to keep him at bay. The feeders were scrambling and leaping wildly, closing about, tightening their circle. She felt their anticipation, sensed their readiness. They would feed soon. They would feed on her.

Then she saw Wraith. He left the ground as if catapulted, his huge, rippling body uncoiling, his muscles stretching. He crossed the open space between them in a handful of heartbeats, paws tearing at the earth, jaws spread wide. A high-pitched snarl broke from his throat, so dark and terrible that for a second everything seemed to freeze with its sound.

In that second, Nest was certain he was coming for her and she was about to die. She brought her arms up quickly to shield herself and dropped to one knee.

But it was the demon Wraith had targeted, and he flew through the air in a blur of black and gray tiger stripes, crashing into his creator and bearing him to the earth in a bright flash of white teeth. The demon disappeared under the beast, body twisting, arms flailing in an effort to find purchase. Nest staggered back from them, nearly falling, not understanding what had happened. Why was Wraith attacking the demon? The demon screamed in rage and pain as the ghost wolf tore at him. It seemed as if the beast had gone insane, attacking with such ferocity that there was no stopping him. Feeders broke over them both, writhing and twisting jubilantly in response to the battle,
frenzied in their eagerness to dine. They scattered momentarily as the demon threw off Wraith with a superhuman effort and struggled to his feet, torn and bloodied and battered. But Wraith was on top of him again in an instant, jaws snapping.

The demon screamed something then, just one time, a name that Nest heard clearly.
“Evelyn!
” There was recognition in the cry; there was rage and terror.
Evelyn!

Then Wraith was all over him, dragging him down and ripping him apart. Blood and flesh flew in ragged gouts, and the demon’s screams turned to muffled gasps. Arms and legs flopped wide in limp surrender, and the demon began to come apart, throat and chest gaping, insides spilling out. Feeders tore at him hungrily, swarming out of the night. The demon’s savaged body lurched upward as if jolted by electricity, and something dark and winged and unspeakable tried to break free from the gore. But Wraith caught it as it emerged, and his jaws snapped down with an audible crunch. Nest heard a single, horrifying shriek, and then silence.

Wraith moved away from the demon’s body then, head lowered, jaws dark and wet with blood. The demon lay crumpled and motionless before her, no longer recognizable as anything human, reduced to something foul and wretched. She stared at it a moment, watching it collapse on itself as the maentwrog had done, watching it sink into the earth and fade to an outline and then disappear.

The rain was falling in a steady downpour now, and thunder rumbled through the darkness, approaching from the west. The feeders faded back into the night, reduced to a scattering of lantern eyes that winked out one by one like searchlights being extinguished. Wraith shook himself, a gesture that seemed almost dismissive. His huge, tiger-striped face lifted into the darkness and his gleaming eyes fixed on Nest. For just an instant, and Nest was never certain afterward if she had actually seen it or just imagined it, she thought she saw Gran’s sharp old eyes peering out of the ghost wolf’s head.

Then Wraith turned and walked back into the trees, melting away into the darkness, becoming one with the air.

* * *

Nest went to Pick first, breaking off the pin that secured the cage door and gently lifting the sylvan into the open air. Pick sat dazed and shaking in her palm for a few moments, holding his head in his hands as he collected himself. Then he smoothed back the leaves that were clustered atop his head, brushed at his wooden arms and legs, and without looking at her, asked about Daniel. When she told him, fighting back her tears, he shook his head sadly and told her in a calm voice not to cry, but to remember that Daniel had been a good friend and never to forget him.

Then he looked directly at her, his narrow face composed, his button eyes steady. His voice was sandpaper rough. “Do you understand what’s happened here, Nest? Do you know what your grandmother did for you?”

Nest shook her head slowly. “I’m not sure. I know I heard the demon call her name. And I think I saw her eyes in Wraith’s, there at the end.” She sank down on her knees in the darkness and rain. “I think she was there with him in some way.”

The sylvan nodded. “She was there, all right. But not the way I had it figured. I had it wrong, I admit that. I thought that she had created Wraith to be your protector. But it was the demon who made Wraith. What your grandmother did was to stir up the magic a bit. She must have realized where Wraith came from when you first told her about seeing him. She must have understood right away that it meant the demon planned to return for you someday. And she knew when he did she might not be strong enough to stop him! Sharp as a tack, your grandmother. So she used her magic, all of it, to turn his own creation against him. On the outside, Wraith looked the same. But inside, he was something different. If the demon ever came back for you, Wraith was waiting to have at him. That was the secret ingredient your grandmother’s magic added to the mix. The demon never figured it out, but that’s why your grandmother didn’t have any magic to protect herself when he came for her. She used it all to change Wraith.”

“But why did Wraith protect me this time when he didn’t
protect me before?” Nest demanded quickly. “Why didn’t he attack the demon in the park or down in the caves or even in church?”

Pick lifted one forefinger in front of his grainy face and shook it slowly. “Use your brain. Your grandmother wanted to be certain that Wraith didn’t intervene unless it was absolutely necessary. She didn’t want any mistakes, any mix-ups. Wraith wasn’t supposed to protect you unless you tried to protect yourself! Do I need to draw you a picture? It was your magic, Nest! Your grandmother reasoned that you would only use it if you were in the worst kind of danger. Remember how she cautioned you against using it foolishly? Reminded you over and over again, didn’t she? That was because she wanted you to save it for when you really needed it. Think about it! That was the reason for your grandmother’s note! She was admonishing you to stand and fight! If the demon came after you and you summoned up even the littlest part of your magic to save yourself, Wraith would have to help!”

He was animated now, infused with the passion of his certainty. “Oh, I know you would have done so anyway. Sure, I know that. But your grandmother wasn’t taking any chances. It was a clever trap, Nest. Criminy, yes! When Wraith came to your defense, the demon was facing a combination of both his own magic and your grandmother’s. It was too much for him.” He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “That was the sacrifice your grandmother made for you.”

Nest stayed silent, stunned. It was difficult for her to imagine her grandmother doing what Pick had described. But Gran had been her fearless champion, and Nest knew the sylvan was right. Gran had given up her magic and thereby her life for her granddaughter.

She set Pick upon the ground then and bent over John Ross. He was stirring at last, trying to right himself. His pale green eyes fixed on her, and for an instant she saw a mix of despair and resolve that frightened her. He asked what had happened, and she told him. When she was finished, he reached for his staff and levered himself slowly and gingerly to his feet.

“You saved us, Nest,” he said. He brushed at his clothing, a muddied and rumpled scarecrow in the rain-drenched gloom.

“I was worried about you,” she replied softly. “I thought the maentwrog might have …”

She trailed off, unable to finish, and he put his arm around her and held her against him. “I’m sorry this had to happen to you, Nest. I wish it could have been otherwise. But life chooses for us sometimes, and all we can do is accept what happens and try to get through it the best way we can.”

She nodded into his shirt. “It never felt as if he was my father,” she whispered. “It never felt as if he was any part of me.”

“He was part of what’s bad about the world, but a part that happened to be closer to you than most.” Ross stroked her damp hair. “Put it behind you, Nest. It won’t happen all at once, but if you give it a chance, it will go away.”

“I know. I’ll try.” She hugged him gratefully. “I’m just glad you were here to help me.”

There was an uneasy pause. His hand stopped moving in her hair.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He seemed to be thinking it over. “What do you think would have happened, Nest, if your father had touched you?”

She was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know.”

She heard him sigh. “I’m going to tell you something I’ve kept secret until now. I’m going to tell you because you need to know. Because someday the knowledge might save your life.”

His face lowered into her hair. “I dream about the future, Nest. I dream about it every night of my life. I dream about the way things will be if everything breaks down and the feeders consume us. I dream about the end of civilization, the end of the world. The dreams are real, not pretend. It is the price I pay for being a Knight of the Word. It is a reminder of what will happen if I fail. More importantly, it is a window into time that lets me discover exactly what it is I must try to prevent.”