The Child Thief

knife broke on their thick hides and I had to beat them away with my bare fists. The witch jumped on my back, hissing, clawing, and snapping her long teeth. I threw her across the room, and grabbed a limb from the fire, jabbed it into her eye like this.” He bared his teeth, jabbed the stick at the air, and twisted it back and forth. “I could have killed her, but she began to cry, begging me to spare her life. It would have been cowardly to have killed her then. So I let her live.” He raised one finger, squinted. “But I gave her fair warning. Told her if she should ever, ever, attack another child, I would come back and cut out her black heart.”

The kids stared at him wordlessly. Finally, the buck-toothed girl whispered, “Wow.” Several others echoed her sentiment, all wide-eyed.

The buck-toothed girl scooted over next to Peter. “You certainly are brave,” she said and gave Peter a flirty smile.

Peter blushed and grinned. “Heck, I did what I had to do.”

The boy with the shaven head frowned at the girl, then gave Peter a hard look. “Yeah, well, I don’t believe anyone is that brave.”

Peter shrugged.

“If you’re so brave let’s see you catch a Fire Salamander.”

“A what?”

“Fire Salamander,” the boy repeated. “You’d have to be very brave to catch one of those. Their bite is as fifty hornet stings.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

The elf boy’s eyes gleamed. “Because I dare you.”

The other boys and girls looked at Peter expectantly.

“Well, if I knew where one was, I’d do it in a heartbeat,” Peter said, then realized all the kids were suddenly grinning. “What?”

The elf boy’s smile reached from ear to ear. “I can show you where a bunch of them are.”

“Oh…hmm,” Peter said weakly, caught the girl’s eyes on him. “Sure, okay. Show me then.”

The elf boy led Peter up to a small garden pond. Wildflowers and marble stonework surrounded the pond; wide lily pads floated along its surface. Set among the lilies were crystal globes the size of pumpkins, giving off a sparkling, golden luminance.

The kids stopped at the knee-high hedge.

“That’s the Lady’s orb pond,” the girl said. “We’re not allowed past here.”

“Yeah,” agreed the boy. “If Ulfger catches us in there he’ll have us lashed.”

Peter chuckled.

“No, really,” the girl said.

Peter hesitated, glanced back down the slope. He could see Ulfger’s back. The tall boy sat upon a bench among the trees, his head down, looking lost in thought. Peter felt sure he could sneak up to the pond and back without drawing any notice.

“He’s scared,” the elf boy said. “See, told you he wasn’t so brave.”

Peter stepped over the hedge, not missing the looks of admiration. He puffed out his chest and strolled boldly up the short walk to the pond’s edge.

Peter had no problem finding a salamander—they glowed. A plump red one floated just below the surface in front of him, its short legs dangling beneath its long body. It was about as long as Peter’s forearm, from nose to the tip of the tail. Peter wondered what the big deal was. He’d caught his fair share of frogs, and frogs were fast. The thing looked about as fast as a slug.

He stepped out onto a rock, keeping one foot on the bank, straddling the salamander. He figured the best way to avoid getting bitten was to snatch it up from behind the neck, like you would a snake. Peter slowly eased his hand into the water, trying to come up behind the creature. The salamander didn’t move, didn’t seem aware that Peter was there at all. Peter’s hand hovered above its neck. He swallowed loudly, wondering just what fifty hornets’ stings might feel like, hoping not to find out.

Peter grabbed the salamander. Caught it cleanly about the neck, whipped it out of the pond, and held it high for the kids to see. The kids clamped their hands over their mouths in amazement; even the elf boy with the shaven head looked impressed. All at once the salamander came to life, wiggling and squirming, slipping loose of Peter’s grasp. Peter caught hold of its tail and realized his error the second it bit him—pain shot up his arm. Not fifty hornets, more like a hundred and fifty.

Peter screamed.

He screamed and tried to sling the creature off his arm, lost his balance, and fell backward into the pond, hitting one of the globes. The globe smashed into another and both of them exploded with a loud, hollow boom. There came two brilliant flashes of light followed by a flume of smoke. But Peter didn’t care about the globes, didn’t care about Ulfger, the only thing that mattered was getting the stinging monster off his arm. He slapped wildly at it, but the thing only clamped down harder. Finally he grabbed it around the neck and twisted it loose, leaving six deep puncture wounds in his arm. Only then did he hear the tall boy shouting at him.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?” Ulfger cried, his eyes full of outrage. “Get out of there! OUT! OUT!”

Several of the children had run away, but most stood stock-still, mouths open, staring in stunned disbelief.

Ulfger yanked one of the wooden play swords away from a boy, pointed it at Peter. “Come here,” he demanded.

Peter had no intention of coming anywhere near Ulfger and made a run for it. Ulfger leaped after him, snatching hold of Peter’s wolf skin. Peter twisted away, leaving the pelt dangling in Ulfger’s fist. Peter made it only three strides before finding his way blocked by the courtyard wall. Ulfger pressed in and Peter realized he was trapped.

Ulfger’s eyes flared. “Do you have any idea what you have done? Those globes are over a thousand years old!”

Peter flinched. “I didn’t mean to.”

Ulfger bared his teeth. “Discipline. There is no discipline. It is time Avalon wakes up. And it starts now, right here.” He jabbed the wooden sword at Peter. “You will be flogged. And you will learn to obey. You will—” Ulfger stopped. His eyes narrowed. He pointed the sword at the necklace around Peter’s neck. “How did you come by that?”

“Huh?” Peter glanced down at the star.

“How did you come by that?”

“The Lady gave it to me.”

“She gave you Mabon’s star? Why?” he said, then, in a harsh whisper, “Has she truly lost her mind?” A kind of madness entered Ulfger’s eyes. He slowly shook his head from side to side. “No, she would never do such a thing. You’re a liar. A LIAR!” he shouted. “A liar and a thief. Give it to me, NOW!”

Peter clutched the star in his hand and shook his head.

“You will do as you are ordered!” Ulfger reached for the necklace.

“NO!” Peter cried, and grabbed Ulfger’s wrist, catching the shocked looks on the other children’s faces when he did.

Ulfger’s dark eyes flashed, his lips trembled, his nose creasing into a sneer. “You dare,” he hissed. “Dare lay your nasty hands on me?” He jerked his arm away then slapped Peter, hit him so hard that Peter reeled and stumbled to the ground.

Peter started to get up, then Ulfger’s knee stabbed into his back, knocking the wind from him, the weight of the large boy pinning him into the ground. Ulfger grabbed a handful of Peter’s hair and shoved his face into the dirt.

“You will learn your place!” Ulfger cried and Peter felt a sharp sting across the back of his legs. Again and again hot pain bit into the back of his thighs and buttocks as Ulfger beat him with the wooden sword, the sound echoing off the courtyard wall.

The children stared, horror-stricken.

Peter screamed and Ulfger pressed his face harder into the ground. Peter choked on the dirt and grass.