The Child Thief

resented her. Maybe both, he thought.

“Their lineage makes me a lord.” He looked at Peter as though expecting something. “When I come of age I shall rule all of Avalon.”

“Sure. Okay,” Peter said, nodding. “Can we go play now?”

“Try, ‘Lord Ulfger, may we go play now?’”

“Lord Ulfger, may we go play now?”

Ulfger stepped over to the next tapestry. Peter recognized this one right away; it was the Lady. In her portrait she looked kind and strong, her eyes bright and glowing.

“Modron is a creature of whim and fancy, song and sentiment,” Ulfger said, looking troubled. “She was never meant to lead.”

Peter glanced wistfully down the hall. He really wanted to play with the other children, and didn’t understand why they had to stand here looking at these boring portraits.

“She tries,” Ulfger continued. “There are moments when she seems capable. Tonight, there at the round table, I thought she would rally—make them see what was at stake. But no, her mood shifts like the wind, distracted by something as trivial as a singing child.” Ulfger stared at Peter, his dark eyes boring into the boy. Peter squirmed, and glanced nervously up and down the empty hall.

After a moment, Ulfger asked, “Do you adore her?”

Peter nodded.

“Do you wish for her love?” He leaned toward Peter, his voice became harsh, more intense with every word. “Her attention? Her motherly doting?”

Peter stepped back.

“Of course you do. What choice have you? She has most certainly caught you in her spell. But heed me. You’re naught but a distraction, a substitute for her poor lost Mabon. She’s but trying to plug that ever-bleeding hole in her heart.” He let out a long breath. “She was stronger before her great loss, before her son was stolen from her. Now she is always pining for her Mabon. That is why she spends so much time at Avallach’s Shrine, not for the sake of Avalon. No, it is her hope that Avallach will tell her where she can find her son.” Ulfger all but spit this last bit out.

“So now she brings her little surrogate child to the court. Has him sing us a pretty ditty.” He gave Peter a peculiar smile. “And the fools beam, and applaud, and shed sentimental tears then go back to wine, feast, and frolic while Avalon sinks beneath their very feet!” He gritted his teeth. “When I come to rule I will put an end to their debauchery. Faerie shall become a force to be feared. Ulfger, a name spoken in frightful whispers. We will make men-kind remember their place and will hide behind the Lady’s Mist no longer.”

“Ulfger, I mean, Lord Ulfger,” Peter said. “Can we go play now?”

Ulfger bristled. “Play? Play? To run around with the boys and girls laughing and giggling. Is that all you can think of?”

Peter nodded wholeheartedly.

Ulfger sighed. “Come.”

“HOW DO YOU become one of the Lady’s Guard?” Peter asked.

Ulfger looked down at him and smirked. Walking right next to him, Peter realized how big the boy was. He was already taller than the elves, but unlike them, he was thick-boned and solid through the chest, more like the men Peter had seen.

“First you have to learn respect for your betters. You can start by addressing me properly. My title is lord. As in, ‘Lord Ulfger, may I’ or ‘May I, Lord Ulfger.’ Can you grasp this simple bit of etiquette?”

Peter gave him a quizzical look but nodded.

“No! You do not nod to me. Never nod to me. That is only allowed among peers. Understand?”

Peter shrugged.

Ulfger stopped. “Are you simpleminded? Shrugging is the same as nodding. Try again.”

“Try what again?”

“No!” Ulfger growled. “It’s, ‘Try what again, Lord Ulfger?’”

Peter could hear the spirited shouts of children and tried to peer around Ulfger.

“Now say it.”

“It, Lord Ulfger.”

Ulfger let out a breath of frustration. “You’ll be lucky if they allow you to guard the maid’s chamber pot.”

“Chamber pot?”

“Never mind,” Ulfger huffed, and pushed open the gate into the courtyard.

It was night, but the courtyard was lit with hundreds of orange lanterns. Well over a dozen elven children— boys and girls of all ages—were climbing and racing around a group of standing stones. Several had blunt wooden swords and spears and were busy raiding and defending the stones.

“Hey, it’s that kid!” a boy shouted. “The one who took the witch’s eye.”

They all came running over to get a closer look at Peter, circling him but keeping their distance as though scared he might bite them.

“Lord Ulfger?” a girl asked. “Is it true? Did this boy really burn the witch’s eye out?”

“So the story goes, if you choose to believe such tales.”

“He doesn’t look so tough,” a boy said.

“He has hopes of entering the Lady’s Guard,” Ulfger said.

The children burst out laughing.

Peter looked to Ulfger. “Lord Ulfger, why’s that so funny?”

“Because you’re an uncouth mongrel that doesn’t know the first thing about courtly etiquette. Why, look at the way you’re dressed. Who would want such a dirty little monkey escorting them anywhere? Do you know how to march? Have you ever even seen a formal parade? Do you know the first thing about titles, ceremonies, manners? There’s more to being a guard than just being brave.”

Peter’s eyes dropped. He hadn’t realized being a guard could be so complicated.

“Don’t worry yourself,” Ulfger said. “You will make a fine manure boy. Now go play your mindless games with the rest of them.” He glared at the children. “Now, everyone leave. Get out of my sight.”

The boys and girls all scampered back to the rocks. Peter ran along after them, glad to finally get away from the tall, brooding boy.

THE BOYS AND girls stood around Peter, staring at him as though he’d just hatched from an egg.

“Weren’t you afraid?” a freckle-faced girl asked. Her front teeth were so big that she reminded Peter of a rabbit.

“Afraid?” Peter laughed and stuck his chest out. “No, not at all.” He pulled his wolf hood up. “I’m the wolf slayer. I fear nothing.”

“How’d you do it?” a boy asked. His head was shaven and he had dirt crusted around his mouth, making Peter wonder what he’d been eating.

“You really want to know?” Peter asked.

The kids all nodded.

“I’m warning you, it’s a very scary tale. Are you sure you want to hear it?”

They leaned in, nodding eagerly.

“Well, okay, I’ll tell you then. I was walking alone in the swamps when she jumped out of a hole, blocking my path. She was a horrible sight, all covered in scales and horns, her hair a nest of snakes. Her teeth were green and as long as knives. She came for me, drooling and snapping her teeth.”

The kids exchanged quick, nervous looks, some putting their hands up to their faces.

“Anyone else would have screamed and run, I’m sure. But not me. I snatched out my knife.” Peter picked a stick up off the ground. “And drove her back.” His face twisted up into a snarl as he made jabbing motions with the stick. “I chased her back down her stinking hole. Her den was full of demons and monsters. She set them on me. My