The Child Thief (36 page)

Leroy was still going on about knocking over the barrels.

He ran,
Nick thought.
Ran away and left me there to die. He ran. He ran.
The thought burned in his mind until it just forced its way out. “He ran,” Nick growled.

“What?” Cricket asked.

“He
ran.
”

Leroy’s eyes blazed.

“Ran away and hid.”

Leroy shoved Nick. “You better shut the fuck up!”

“You left us.”

“I said shut the fuck up.” Leroy made to shove Nick again when someone grabbed him by the arm and jerked him around. Leroy stumbled and almost fell.

“Tell them, Leroy,” Redbone said. “Tell them where you were when Abraham was dying.”

Leroy glanced about like a caged dog, unable to meet anyone’s eyes.

“One. One extra sword,” Redbone said. “Could have saved Abraham.”

Leroy shook his head, opened his mouth, but said nothing. He backed away from Redbone, away from all the hard stares. He looked unsure what to do with himself, and drifted back among the barghest.

A sudden burning sensation stung the wound in Nick’s side. He clutched the cut, felt the hot wetness. He pulled his hand away and stifled a cry. The blood,
his
blood, was dark, almost
black. What’s happening?
he wondered. Another voice, a not very nice one, said,
You know what’s happening.
His head was drumming now, pounding hard. He stumbled and would have fallen but someone grabbed him, put an arm around him.

“Steady there, Nick.”

Nick saw Redbone’s wild grin through wet, blurry eyes.

Redbone’s grin faltered. “Hey, man. You okay?”

“Yeah,” Nick said. “I’m…fine.”

Redbone glanced at Nick’s blood-soaked leathers. “Fuck, man. You took one hell of a lick.”

“I’m fine,” Nick said, harsher than he’d intended. He pulled away from the wild boy and quickly covered the wound with his hand.

“Okay, man. That’s cool. Just be sure to let me know if you need a hand.” Redbone started to say something more, hesitated, seemed to be searching for the right words, finally he blurted out, “Look, man, just gotta say. You earned your blades today. There were six of them bad dudes coming down on your ass, but you stood with her. Stood when you could’ve run. That takes more than guts. Let me tell you, that’s something deeper.” He clasped Nick on the shoulder. “Just want you to know, brother. You need me, I’m there.” He gave Nick another of his crazed grins before heading up to check on Peter and Sekeu.

For a moment Nick forgot the pain, the burning in his stomach. There was no denying what he’d seen in the wild boy’s eyes. Redbone was his friend, the kind of friend that would stand by him to the end. Nick found himself blinking away tears.

The river narrowed, became clear and fast, splashing and swirling against the large boulders and rocky bank. They’d left all signs of the scourge behind; most of the trees here still had their leaves. They came to a series of large flat stones strung out across the river and leaped from one to the other to cross the current. The three sisters didn’t use the stones, their tiny feet plucking at the rushing water as they danced right across the waves.

The foliage on the far bank was fuller. Nick spied the occasional flower and caught sight of several faeries watching them timidly from up in the trees. Nick admired their brilliantly colored wings.
Yes
, he thought,
so very pretty. How delicious to feel their tiny bones cracking in my hands
. Nick shook his head.
No
, he thought.
Stop
. But that
other
, that deeper
him
, didn’t want to stop.

THE TRAIL BROADENED
into a long courtyard. Murky wading pools stretched along either side of the path. A few shriveled lily pads and water weeds poked up here and there. Standing stones covered with brown, dried moss stood in intervals down the pools, several had fallen and lay half-submerged on their sides. Ahead, a tall archway cut into a towering white stone ledge with a gentle waterfall spilling onto its crest. The ancient wooden doors were barred shut.

Peter let out a sound as though he’d been punched in the gut. “How?”

“She took the path to the Haven and never returned,” the old elf said. “The garden wilts without her hand.”

They entered a courtyard and Peter slowed, staring at a pond. Scattered among the algae and weeds were the shattered remnants of several golden globes. Peter stopped. He looked pained, disheartened.

Tanngnost came and stood beside him. “Sometimes it is the smaller things that hit the hardest.”

They continued through a series of courtyards until they came to a large overgrown field surrounded by wild hedges and crumbling arches. Nick counted ten arches. The elf led them toward the back of the field, to a small, unassuming arch half-hidden behind a straggly hedge. The arch was in the shape of a dragon’s mouth; several of the teeth had broken and lay scattered in the weeds.

They passed through and the trail narrowed, weaving its way through dense underbrush, towering trees, and giant boulders. The path ran upward along the bottom of a steep cliff until coming to an abrupt end against the sheer walls of a box canyon. The walls towered so high above as to leave the troop in deep shadow.

The canyon smelled of damp earth and rotting things. Vines as thick as a man’s leg pushed up from the earth, their stems—spiked with treacherous thorns—twisted and coiled up the face of the stone like a nest of snakes. A simple apple was carved into the stone at eye level.

The old elf gave the Devils and barghest a hard, probing look. He turned to Peter and the troll. “Are you sure?” he asked.

Both of them nodded.

“The oath?” the elf asked. “The rites?”

“We’ve no time for oaths and silly ceremonies,” Peter said impatiently. “Just open the thing.”

The elf looked to the troll.

“They are Avalon now,” Tanngnost said. “There are no others. We have to trust them.”

Drael still looked unsure but stepped up to the stone, placed his hand atop the apple, closed his eyes, and spoke a string of strange words.

Silence hung in the air as the troop held their collective breath. Nothing happened for a long moment, then the thorny vines began to rustle, slowly slithering, coiling unto themselves like vipers preparing to strike, creeping back until a circular groove—almost as tall as the troll—was revealed in the stone.

The old elf pushed on one side of the circle, several of the elves quickly joining him. There came the slight grinding of stone as they pivoted the circle inward, revealing a short tunnel. Nick could see light coming through from the far end. The opening was large enough for one person to enter at a time, and one by one the troop filed through.

Nick hesitated; something about the entrance made him—or some part of him—uneasy. He waited until the last barghest passed, before approaching the tunnel. The vines rustled as he neared, almost as though watching him. Nick took a deep breath and ducked in; as he did, a vine struck him, hitting him hard on the forehead, just missing his eye. Another snagged his ankle, almost tripping him, while several more struck at him like biting snakes. Nick jerked his foot free and dashed through the tunnel.

Redbone was waiting for him. “You okay, man?” Redbone squinted back down the dark tunnel. “You look like something’s after you.”

“Uh, no…nothing,” Nick said breathlessly. “Just…got spooked. That’s all.”

They continued to follow the elves and soon came upon a steep, rushing creek. The water was crystal-clear and smelled sweet. The forest flourished as they made their way up the steady incline. Soon there were flowers sprouting from vines and bushes, and soft moss carpeting the trail. Nick caught sight of a pair of small spotted deer and heard the peeping of tree frogs. A soft hum buzzed past his head as several dozen faeries zipped about the troop, chirping and doing loop-de-loops. A feverish shudder coursed across Nick’s skin, a fresh flush of heat bloomed in his stomach. His fingernails bit into his palms as an overwhelming need to tear the little creatures to pieces all but consumed him. He felt if he could kill them, the pounding in his head, the heat in his stomach would finally cease.
No
, he thought.
Stop it. Stop it before it’s too late
. He clenched his fingers into fists, pressed his hands tight against his thighs, fighting to keep them under control.

The wound began to burn again, worse than before. He clutched his side, felt the heat. He made sure no one was watching, then looked at his hand. His blood was darker now, almost black.
“Fuck!”
Nick whispered.

A barghest, much smaller than the others, loped up alongside of him. The creature only came up to Nick’s knee. It gave him a curious look and chirped.

“Get the fuck away from me,” Nick hissed, and grinned.

The barghest cocked its head from side to side, then scampered away.

“Dig your beady little eyes out with my thumbs,” Nick said under his breath. The heat in his stomach began to burn, to climb up his throat, the pressure behind his eyes to throb. “Tear your flesh from your bones.”
Yes
, the Other in him said.
Do it! Do it now! All the pain will go away
. Just do it. Do it. Do it now. And at that moment, Nick believed that Other, truly felt that killing the barghest would make the pain go away, felt it in his very core.

The troop pushed around a bend and Nick was confronted by dozens of tall, thin waterfalls, their silvery waters cascading down a mountain face of pure white stone. Nick tilted back his head but couldn’t find the top of the falls. The water appeared to be falling from the low-lying clouds themselves. The mist was cool, soothing, and smelled like spring. Nick inhaled deeply and felt a reprieve from that Other, from that deeper self. For a moment, he stood there and just lost himself in the spectacle of the beautiful falling water.

The elf led them to a smaller fall, the one farthest back. An inconspicuous path ran along a small ledge and disappeared directly into the falls. The water crashed down with such force it was obvious they could go no farther, but the old elf walked directly into the falls and vanished from view.

Peter hesitated a moment, then followed. One by one, each of the party entered until it was Nick’s turn. Nick could see it wasn’t a trick, there was just enough space behind the falls to slip past, but it was still unnerving to blindly walk into the misty shadows. Nick took a deep breath, stepped through, and found himself in a short tunnel, the walls shimmering with an emerald light the color of the sea.

The tunnel led into a large cavern that opened to the sky. Jagged cliffs leaned in on all sides. Thick, glowing bands of gold veined the white stone, bathing the cavern in a soft golden light. Before him, a magnificent Eden spread out from ledge to ledge, at least the width and length of a soccer field.

The Devils, barghest, even the elves, all stared in wide-eyed wonder.

“The Haven,” Tanngnost said.

“I see bunnies,” said one of the witch’s daughters.

“My, my. Lots of bunnies,” said the second.

“Yummy for your tummy,” added the third.

NICK’S BREATH ESCAPED
him. Before him lay a circular pond, delicate ripples crisscrossing its mirrorlike surface as tiny sprites, barely larger than bees, danced along its banks. An apple tree with white bark and leaves stood upon a tiny island in the middle of the pond, the centerpiece of the whole garden. Vibrant red apples hung from its delicate limbs and its leaves shimmered.

“Avallach’s Tree,” Peter whispered.

“Yes,” Tanngnost said, and even his voice was awed. “The very heart of Avalon.”

A birdcall drew Nick’s attention away from the Tree and he took in the rest of the garden. Dozens of brooks fed into the pond, their sparkling waters bubbling over smooth, crystal-clear stones. Grass and clover of deep greens and blues, as rich as though it were painted, rolled across the glade, while lush ivy and muscadine vines dripped down from the delicate trellises and along the ledges and cliffs that walled the sanctuary. Wildflowers spilled across the grounds like waves in an ocean, splashing along the edge of every stone and tree. Massive, moss-covered standing stones leaned heavily, their ancient pitted surfaces covered in runes and carvings of brooding faces. Brightly painted birds flew above, along with all manner of sprites, pixies, and tiny faeries. Wee folk of every sort peeked out from behind stones and giant toadstools. And on and on, there were so many sights, smells, and strange creatures about that Nick found it impossible to focus on any one thing for more than a second.

“My Lady,” Peter called softly, his voice reverent.

Nick followed Peter’s eyes to a tapestry of brilliant white vines, flowers, and leaves nestled together upon a throne of leaning stones on the far side of the pond. The overall effect was that of an elegant woman in a long gown. Nick realized that many of the leaves were actually white butterflies, some slowly opening and closing their wings, while others fluttered to and fro, giving the illusion that the tapestry was moving.

“She’s in the pond,” Dash said, and all the Devils pressed forward, trying to see her.

“I see her,” said Redbone.

“Where—
oh
!” said Cricket.

Nick searched the murky water, he didn’t see her, but he did see small winged fish with the upper torsos of boys and girls darting back and forth, chasing one another just beneath the surface. Then he understood, and he saw her, saw her well. In the reflection, all the white flowers, leaves, and butterflies came together to form the Lady. And, just like any illusion, once he saw her, it was impossible to not see her.

He glanced back up and there she sat on the throne, unmoving like a marble statue, staring with heavy, unblinking eyes at the Tree. Her head nestled among the flowers, the vines and leaves spilled around her, cradling her. Her skin was so white as almost to glow, her neck long and graceful, her lips full but pale, her cheekbones high, her eyes set wide apart, almost too wide, giving her a slight animal countenance. And when Nick looked at those eyes, those dull, glassy eyes, he could see just how fragile, how very vulnerable she really was. And as the heat bloomed in his gut, as it turned to fire, as his blood turned black and pumped through his veins like venom, he thought,
It will do me such good to kill her
.