The Child Thief

“We was here first,” the second girl shouted as she pulled her friend back up.

“Well, we’re here now,” the big kid said. “So get the fuck outta here less you want me to kick all your stupid little asses.”

When none of them moved, the big kid stepped forward. “You think I’m fucking around? I said—” He saw Peter standing next to the little boy. A confused expression crossed his face as though unsure just where Peter had come from. He glanced back at his pal, but his friend looked just as surprised.

The child thief pulled his hood back and locked his golden eyes on the two big kids, the same eyes that had backed down a full-grown wolf. He didn’t say a word, just stared at them.

The big kids seemed to deflate. “C’mon,” the kid said to his pal. “Playgrounds are for candy-asses.” They left, casting anxious looks back over their shoulders as they went.

“Hey, kid,” the little girl said. “You got funny ears.”

Peter grinned at her and wiggled his ears. The kids all burst out laughing.

“You wanna play with us?” asked the boy.

“I do,” Peter said. “I most certainly do.” His eyes gleamed devilishly. “But not today. Today I have to find a friend.”

Chapter Seven Sekeu

Nick sat on the floor with his back firmly against the wall. His aching head felt like it would never stop ringing. He touched his swollen lip and winced. At this point, he felt fairly confident that no one was going to eat him, at least not this morning. He rested his head against the stone works and watched the kids go about their madness.

Half-naked kids darted about in all directions, pushing and yelling, but somehow, out of the chaos, fires were started, torches were lit, bowls were brought out of cupboards, and soon the air smelled of soot and smoke. Nick tried to count the kids, but they moved around too much. He guessed around twenty all together, and was amazed at the ruckus they could make.

Soft morning light flickered along the stone-and-dirt floor. Nick could see a sparse canopy of limbs through the few breaks in the roof. He scanned the chamber: it was a bit smaller than a basketball court. His eyes returned over and over to the hanging bodies in the far corner. They’d looked so real in the fog, but now, in the light, it was plain to see that they were just straw dummies. Why there should be straw dummies hanging from the rafters was a mystery, but at this point they were the least of his concerns.

The place was a mess: cages and tarps strewn all along one wall, clothes piled up in and on top of old barrels, candy bar wrappers, crumbled cigarette boxes and butts among the straw and leaves, old, blackened chewing gum worn into the stones. The only thing that was neat were the weapons, glistening with fresh oil and hung in nice rows, along with various types of leather armor, helmets, and pads.

Cooking smells caught Nick’s attention: a nutty, cinnamon aroma. Nick was surprised when his stomach began to growl. How his stomach could think of food after all that had happened was beyond him. He watched them fill their bowls up with a soupy goop. Was that gruel? Nick wasn’t even sure what gruel was, much less what it looked like, but he bet it looked a lot like that stuff.

One by one the kids plopped down onto the benches on either side of a long wooden table and began to eat. Nick still had a hard time believing what he was seeing: wild-haired savages slurping, smacking, yelling, and laughing with large gobs of food in their mouths, several using their hands instead of the big wooden spoons. All the while the little blue people flew about trying to snatch stray berries and nuts.

Another growl came from Nick’s stomach. He really wanted a bowl of whatever it was they were eating. But there was no way he was going to beg to be fed, not after the way they’d treated him.

A girl walked purposely over to him. She had the wide cheekbones and a strong jawline of a Native American Indian. Her body was lean and sinewy. At first glance, she appeared to be around his age, but as she neared, he noted the hard set of her face—especially the eyes, they didn’t look like the eyes of a child—and it became tougher to guess. Her copper-colored skin was dirty and dotted with scars, leaving no doubt she’d seen her fair share of trouble. Her long black hair was captured in twin braids that ran down her back. Two black wings were threaded through a broad, beaded headband. The feathers swept downward from the sides of her head, the tips touching the tops of each shoulder, giving her a noble bearing. She carried a bowl and a wooden spoon.

She stopped in front of Nick and stared down at him. Her eyes were gold like Peter’s, but large and intense. Nick dropped his gaze and stared at the floor.

“I brought you food,” she said, and held the bowl out to him.

The nutty smell tugged at Nick but he ignored her.

“Do not be a child. Eat,” she said. Her words were stilted, spaced. Nick could tell English wasn’t her native tongue.

Nick said nothing.

She gave him a moment longer, then turned to leave.

“Wait.” Nick forced the word out.

She looked at him, her eyes hard, uncompromising.

Nick held his hand out for the bowl.

She continued to stare at him.

“Please,” Nick said through clenched teeth.

She handed him the bowl.

Nick gave the goop a stir. It looked like chunky oatmeal. He scooped a small clump onto the wooden spoon and gave it a nibble. He noticed a touch of bitter beneath the sweet but it was pretty good.

Careful of his busted lip, Nick began to eat. The gruel was warm and felt good going down; as a matter of fact, it warmed up his whole body.

She sat down, cross-legged, in front of him. “Your name is Nick?”

Nick nodded.

“My name is Sekeu.” There was a long pause. “You should know you did well with the red devil. Most kids are too frightened to fight back. I believe there is a warrior in your heart. You just need skills. We will begin training today.”

Nick stopped eating. “Training?”

“To become a warrior. To become clan. To become a—Devil.”

“What?”

“You must learn to fight. To defend yourself and your clan.” She said this so matter-of-factly that for a moment Nick thought he might be the crazy one.

“Clan? You mean that bunch of assholes?” Nick jabbed his thumb toward the kids. “You think I want to join their little jerk-off club?”

The kids had pulled swords and spears down from the walls and were practicing basic moves—leaps, thrusts, stances, and so on—while others paired off for light sparring. In spite of himself, Nick was fascinated by their speed and agility as they knocked each other back and forth across the floor. How can they move like that?

“Peter has brought you here to offer you a chance,” Sekeu said sternly.

“To become clan, to become a child of Faerie. Do you have any idea what that means? It is a chance at eternal youth, to live wild and free for a thousand years.”

Nick stared at Sekeu. “What’re you talking about? And where is Peter? Where the hell did that bastard go?”

Sekeu’s eyes narrowed. “Choose your words carefully, Nick. There are those here that would kill you for calling Peter such.” Judging by her face, Nick was pretty sure she was one of them. Nick let out a frustrated sigh.

“Peter is gone to search out more children for the clan,” she said.