The Child Thief (16 page)

He saw their shapes approach the wall, peering out into the darkness, felt their eyes searching for him.

“DEATH HAS COME,”
Peter screamed,
“TO CUT YOUR THROATS AND DRINK YOUR BLOOD!”
He threw back his head and howled like a wolf.

The gate opened. Dozens of Flesh-eaters carrying torches and wielding swords and axes stepped out. A figure pushed through them, a tall man wearing a wide-brimmed hat. He slid his sword from his belt, sliced the air with its long, narrow blade, and strolled forward.

Peter slipped silently back into the shadows and disappeared into the night.

O
ww!
OWW!
” Nick cried.

“Just hold still,” Cricket said. “You’re making it worse.”

Nick grimaced. During the night,
something
—and Nick had a damn good idea what, judging by the pixies giggling from the rafters—had tied his hair to the bars of his cage.

“Just one more. There,” Cricket said. “Y’know, you’ll have to learn not to sleep with your head so close to the bars.”

Nick sat up, rubbing his hair, and shot Cricket a cutting look. “Thanks, but I think I figured that one out on my own.”

“Eww, someone’s a sourpuss,” Cricket laughed, then stopped abruptly. “Whoa, you don’t look so good.”

Nick frowned. “Thanks.”

“No. I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, you don’t look
well
. You feel okay?”

“I’m
fine
,” Nick said curtly. “Just had a bad dream, that’s all.”

NICK WAITED HIS
turn for the privy, stepped in, and took a hard look at himself in the mirror. Cricket was right, he looked bad. There were dark circles under his eyes and his eyes looked haunted, his face oddly gaunt. He couldn’t stop thinking about the nightmare. Unlike most nightmares, this one stayed with him. Not only could he clearly remember every detail, but he still harbored the ill feelings, the horror of what he’d seen and the terrible things he’d done. He knew it was silly, but he checked his hands, searching for any signs that they were turning black or growing claws. It had been that real. He doused his head with the cool water. It made him feel better, but didn’t wash away his dread or the dark mood lingering in his chest.

Nick almost ran into Sekeu when he came out. She was busy refereeing breakfast and getting the fires going.

“Sorry,” he said.

She gave him a passing glance, stopped, stepped back, and looked at him again. She didn’t seem so much concerned as disturbed. “Nick, how do you feel?”

“Okay.”

Sekeu eyed him, skeptical. “You are sure?”

“Yeah,” Nick said, a bit annoyed. “I’m fine, really.”

Redbone came up behind Sekeu and jabbed her in the butt. “Squaw, paleface need’um powwow.”

Sekeu spun around, leading with her fist.

Redbone was ready for her and leaped back, but she caught him on the arm so hard that even Nick flinched.

“Oww, Jesus Christ, man!” Redbone cried, wincing and clutching his shoulder. “Geez, I was just kidding around.” He shook his arm out.

“What do you want?” Sekeu snapped, looking ready to take his head off.

“Nothing really, except to say we’re running low on acorns, and berries, and mushrooms. Oh, and pretty much every other damn thing.” Redbone leaned over to Nick, still rubbing his arm, and whispered, “She got her muscles from scalping white men, y’know.” He snorted and elbowed Nick, then did a double-take. “Hey, wow. Cat, you don’t look so good.”

Nick frowned.

“How did you sleep?” Sekeu asked Nick. “Did you have any bad dreams?”

The image of his skin turning black and his hands twisting into claws came to Nick. He was about to mention it, but didn’t like the way the two of them were scrutinizing him, like he’d committed a crime. “No,” he lied. “My stomach hurt a little. That’s all. I feel fine now.”

Sekeu and Redbone exchanged a wary glance, neither looked convinced.

Redbone slapped Nick on the back. “That’s just your body getting used to the different food, man. That’s all. It’ll pass.” But Nick didn’t miss the dark look Redbone shot Sekeu.

It scared him.

THE NEXT COUPLE
of days flowed into one another: breakfast, training, dinner, sleep, breakfast, training, dinner, sleep, round and round. Nick did his best to stay out of Leroy’s way, but the bigger boy took special pleasure in targeting him, taking every opportunity to give him a hard time. Nick tried not to let it get to him, losing himself in his training. He found the drills and long hours of practice to be the one place where he could forget his troubles. He also found he was getting pretty good with the staff and spear—his ability quickly outpacing that of both Cricket and Danny. His progress was encouraging. But more than anything, he wanted to beat Leroy, and worked tirelessly with Sekeu trying to master every move and trick. Soon he was pressing her to show him the advanced maneuvers he saw the Devils performing. He wasn’t sure if it was the exercise or the strange food, maybe both, but either way, his body felt stronger, his timing and speed increasing with each passing day.

The nights were the hardest, the dark dreams haunting his sleep. Each night in his nightmares, his skin would turn black and the dread and rage would grow in his chest. He would wake breathing hard, his stomach burning and murder in his heart.

After breakfast on Nick’s fourth morning, Sekeu led him, Cricket, Danny, and Leroy over to the big round door on the far side of the hall.

A few moments later, Redbone and the one-handed boy, Abraham, joined them, toting buckets and potato sacks. They’d put on leathers, tight-fitting, hand-stitched, single-piece garments with pointed boots sewn right into them, held up by a belt strapped high across the chest.

Redbone tugged on a beat-up, black leather jacket. This one wasn’t hand-stitched, this was a genuine American motorcycle jacket, complete with spikes, patches, and SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL painted in peeling red letters across the back.

Redbone had a sly grin on his face. “Any of you cats up for a break?”

Danny perked up. “Hey, that’d be great!”

“Good,” Redbone said. “We’re going on a little adventure.”

Nick didn’t like the way Redbone said
adventure
.

“We are going foraging,” Sekeu said.

“Give you a chance to see some of the sights,” Abraham added and gave Redbone a wink.

“Dirk and Dash are coming with us,” Redbone said to Sekeu. “Be here in a sec. Just as soon as Dirk finds his sword.”

“What, again?” Abraham asked. “How do you lose a sword? Kid would lose his butthole if it weren’t attached to his ass.”

Redbone laughed out loud at that, showing all of his teeth. He seemed to always be wearing that wide, fierce grin. Nick felt that grin combined with the dye, or paint, or whatever it was he rubbed on his skin and hair to make it red, made him look like a real devil. Then there was that ridiculous red bone, the one tied into the topknot of his wild, tangled hair, like something out of the
Flintstones.
Nick figured if he were to ask—which he had no intention of doing—that ridiculous bone would have something to do with his nickname. Up close, Nick couldn’t help but notice all the scars on the boy, and wondered how many scrapes and challenges this whacked-out kid had been in. One particularly nasty-looking scar snaked lengthwise right down between his squinty, fiendish eyes.

Abraham, other than his missing hand, had very few scars. It was his golden eyes that made him so striking, contrasting sharply with his dark skin. Nick didn’t believe he’d ever seen a person as dark as Abraham; his skin was almost raven-black. Abraham wore a scruffy bowler hat dressed up with black feathers and beads, and a tight-fitting pin-stripe dinner jacket with the sleeves cut out.

Two more boys joined them; one hopping along as he laced up his boot.

“Nick,” Sekeu said. “Meet Dirk and Dash.”

Dirk’s scalp had been shaved; jagged ritual scarring spun away from his eyebrows and along the side of his head. He was a bit shorter than Nick, square-jawed with a hefty build, reminding Nick somewhat of a bulldog.

Dash pushed a clump of blond hair from his face and stared down at Nick. He was almost as tall as Redbone, had a slight underbite, and a head full of long, greasy hair. Bits of bone and metal jutted from his ears, nose, eyebrows, nipples, and Nick didn’t want to imagine where the hell else.

Dirk and Dash cocked their heads from side to side and began to click their teeth.

“No,” Sekeu said, and whacked Dash.

Dirk snorted.

“Hey,” Dash said and jerked a thumb at Dirk. “What about him?”

Sekeu whacked Dirk. Dirk frowned and whacked Dash. Then the two boys were punching each other, and Redbone and Abraham had to separate them.

Ignoring the ruckus, Sekeu went to the wall and tugged over a basket of mangy-looking hides. She handed one to each of the New Blood. “Put these on.”

Nick held it out before him, unsure just how one went about
putting on
a hide.

“Just stick your head through that there hole,” Abraham said, then added, “They’re for camouflage.”

What are we hiding from?
Nick wondered, but was afraid to ask.

By the time Nick got the hide situated, Sekeu handed him a belt. The belt looked ancient, the leather cracking and flaking. It was wide and studded with rings of tarnished brass. Nick noticed intricate swirling designs all but worn away from the years of abuse.

“You have to earn the right to carry a sword,” Sekeu told them as she plucked four spears off the wall. “For now, you are permitted spears.”

Nick noted that the Devils carried a long knife on their belts and a short sword slung across their backs. Dirk and Dash brought along spears as well.

Sekeu tossed Nick a spear. It was heavier than the practice spears, the staff a bit thicker. It felt smooth and true in his hand. He admired the sharp, jagged edge of the spearhead.

Danny was staring at his spear with a sour face. “What do we need these for?”

Nick could’ve answered that one, recalling the claw marks on the door.

“In case we are attacked,” Sekeu said.

“Attacked?” Danny stammered. “Huh? By what?”

“Monsters,” Redbone said, his eyes serious.

SEKEU SLID THE
bolt over and pulled the heavy round door inward.

Nick was surprised to find himself eager to venture out. The last time he was out, it had been too dark to see anything, and the time he peeked out the door, well, he’d been too scared to see past his own shadow. But with all the Devils coming along, all armed to the teeth, he didn’t feel scared, he felt an odd excitement.

He glanced at Redbone, Sekeu, Abraham, Dirk, and Dash; they looked alert, dangerous. Not a group he’d want to run into in the forest.

They shuffled out single-file; Nick following Redbone. He took in a deep breath and the musky smell of damp earth filled his nostrils. He peered around the tall boy, eager to see the forest.

The door thudded shut behind them and the heavy bolt clacked into place. Nick stared at the deep claw marks on the door and swallowed loudly. He glanced up and realized that the fort—at least part of it—was actually in a tree, a huge tree that appeared to have grown right out of the stony cliff face, its thick roots and vines twisting around the boulders like a massive octopus. It towered above them and he could see a few lookout stands here and there among the limbs.

They crested a short slope and Nick got his first clear look at the land of Avalon. He couldn’t have told you exactly what he’d envisioned, but the scene before him wasn’t it.

Gray saturated everything, dull and rutty, like the skin of something long-dead. Where was the thick, flowering undergrowth, the giant trees alive with purple monkeys and floating butterfly people, as in his dream? There were no magical creatures, not even a pixie. For that matter, there wasn’t a sign of
any
living creature of any sort. Not so much as a bird or a bug. The landscape laid out before him was composed of barren sooty earth and the carcasses of once mighty trees. Thorny vines snaked around jagged stumps and huge briar patches formed daunting barriers in all directions.

They marched over the rise and down a crooked, uneven trail, crawling over and under the fallen hulks of rotting trees. There came the occasional break in the low-hanging clouds, and Nick could make out steep, rugged cliffs just beyond the forest.

Redbone fell in beside him and they brought up the rear of the troop. He stared at Nick, that weird grin on his face.

Nick smiled back once, hoping this would placate him. Redbone reminded Nick of the crazy folks that talk to you on the street, the ones you quickly learned it was best not to make eye contact with.

A dense fog swept across the trail, momentarily obscuring the path.

Redbone began making low ghost sounds.

“Silence,” Sekeu called from the front of the troop.

Redbone stopped at once but his crazy grin never wavered. He gave Sekeu a
sieg heil
salute and winked at Nick.

As they moved along the path, Nick noted a few trees—usually the larger ones—that still held a bit of green in their uppermost branches. Curiosity got the best of him and he asked Redbone in a hushed whisper: “Is the forest dying?”

“Man, all of Avalon is dying,” Redbone answered, seemingly pleased as Punch that Nick wanted to talk. “They call it the scourge. Even in the short time I’ve been here, I’ve seen this forest go from a thing of beauty to the way it is now. Each time we go out for berries, seems we got to trek farther and farther north.”

“How long you been here?”

“Man, that’s hard to say. Time’s different here, y’know. I do know it was 1974 when I left the human world.”

“Whoa.”

“That’s nothing. That cat Abraham, he left the human world way back during the Civil War. He used to be a slave.”

Nick looked at Abraham, disbelieving. “No way.”

“Yup, and if you think that’s way out, dig this: Sekeu has been here since the pilgrims. She was a slave of the Delaware tribe. Peter stole her right out from under their big fat noses.

“Abraham told me that when he first arrived, this whole forest was still teeming with all sorts of magical little beasties, even the wee folk. Looking at it now, man, that’s hard to believe.”

Nick saw something move in the mist, a dark, skittering shadow about the size of a rat.

“That’s a darkling,” Redbone volunteered. “From what I’m told, they’ve always been a part of Avalon. Nasty life-sucking things. But pretty much the only life you find around here, now. Hell, these days, even the darklings are starting to fade. With all the wee folk gone, they only got each other to eat.”