The Child Thief

forest. The next time you set foot in these woods I will shove my sword all the way up your ass.” Peter kicked Ulfger hard in the buttocks. “Now get out of here!”

Ulfger pushed to his feet and limped down the trail. The Devils chased after him, hooting, howling, and barking, as they pelted him with pinecones and dirt clods, chasing him all the way to Goggie Creek.

A SHARP CHIRP brought Peter back to the present. He caught a flash of green: faeries —three of them—leaped off a branch and flew away up the trail.

“I believe news of our visit precedes us,” Tanngnost said with a wry grin. “Keep your eyes open: the welcoming committee should be arriving soon.”

Peter glanced about the terrain, spotted a rocky ledge just off the main trail. “We should wait over there,” Peter said. “Those rocks will give me a good head start if I need to leave a bit early.”

The troll nodded and the two of them strolled toward the ledge.

“All will be fine,” Tanngnost said. “So long as you keep your head about you and don’t antagonize him. He can’t possibly raise his sword against you, not after his own father granted you a place among faerie fold. He’s honor-bound to at least hear us out.”

“Honor? Ulfger has no honor.”

“Ulfger does have honor—in many ways it is his greatest undoing. He’s tied to what he believes is his duty, no matter how distorted that may have become. He’ll honor his father’s clemency. But I don’t have to warn you to be careful. You know he’d love to kill you. And if he can find a reason to claim you a threat to Avalon, or to the welfare of the Lady, he will try.”

“From what you’ve told me, the Lady’s little more than his prisoner.”

“Peter, you distort my words. I never implied any such gibberish.”

“You said he never allows visitors or for her to leave. When was the last time you saw her outside her refuge?”

Tanngnost’s great furry brow creased. “I can’t say exactly. I don’t know if she ever leaves.”

“See!”

“I don’t believe that’s Ulfger’s doing, though. When the Great Horned One died, part of Modron seemed to have died as well. I saw her once, briefly, sometime after the great battle. She didn’t recognize me. Not sure she even saw me; she stared through me as though asleep with her eyes open. And now the elves tell that she has grown listless and weaker still. Sadly, she neglects the Mist, and as you well know it has become infested with the Sluagh. They feed on it. Feed on…her.” The troll was quiet for a moment. “I fear if she loses her will altogether, the Mist will fall. Then that will be the end for all of us.” Tanngnost pulled at his long chin whiskers and drifted away into his own thoughts. “Um, what were we talking about?”

Peter smiled. “About what an ass Ulfger is.”

“Ah, yes. That’s right. What I meant to tell you is that whatever Ulfger’s failings, you must never forget that he’s the son of the Horned One. That he, and only he, can wear the Horned Helm and wield Caliburn.”

“But the sword was broken.”

“Even broken, the blade holds enough power and poison to help us drive the Flesh-eaters into the Mist.”

“You never told me that! What are we waiting for?” Peter’s voice became excited. “Where do they keep it? I’ll steal it. Why, if I had the sword I’d drive the Flesh-eaters away myself!” Peter’s eyes lit up.

“Peter,” Tanngnost huffed, and rapped twice on the boy’s head. “Do you ever listen? Did you sleep through all my teachings? Have all my pearls of wisdom been wasted on a dingbat? Caliburn was forged by Avallach and given to the Horned One to protect Avalon in his stead, to drive outsiders away.”

“I know that,” Peter muttered.

“Its touch is death. Only those of ancient blood lines can wield it. And of those, who is left?”

Peter shrugged.

“Don’t be a dunderheaded halfwit,” Tanngnost said. “Ulfger. Only Ulfger remains. Not even the elves can touch it without being burned. And one of impure blood such as yourself? Why, it would burn you from the inside out!”

Peter frowned.

“Peter, whether you like it or not, we need Ulfger. And we need to do our best to convince him to join us.”

“Well, all I know is if you’re putting any faith in him then you’re the dunderheaded halfwit. Ulfger’s a coward. It’ll be just like at the Merrow Cove.”

“No, not a coward. Trapped in the past. Ulfger inherited his father’s physical prowess but not his will. He cannot rise above his father’s ghost. It wasn’t his choice to stay behind at the great battle. His father had him swear an oath to defend the Lady and her garden against whatever should pass. Ulfger still holds to that and will not leave her forest. Even with the destruction of all of Avalon at hand, he believes it is his duty to remain with the Lady.”

Peter let loose an ugly laugh. “He hides behind duty like it is his mother’s apron.”

“That may well be, but—”

Peter put up his hand and cocked his head. “They’re here.”

Just on the top of the rise stood Ulfger, flanked by twelve narrow-eyed elves all carrying swords and spears. The elves’ leathers were the color of the forest and well-worn, while Ulfger still wore the gold-and-red tunic. The tunic was a bit threadbare now, but it still bore the black elk-head crest.

“A meddler and a human-born,” Ulfger called. “And neither welcome here. Trespass in the Lady’s Wood carries but one punishment…death.”

Chapter Fourteen Clan

Nick swallowed a spoonful of porridge and winced. His throat was still sore, but the troll had been right. Except for a throbbing in his temples, he felt better. Cricket and Danny winced as they ate, as well, but they were all so hungry they finished every bite.

The wounds were still hard to look at, but Sekeu had rubbed some sort of smelly ointment on them and the redness and swelling were subsiding.

“What do you guys know about these Flesh-eaters?” Nick asked.

“Not much,” Cricket said. “They won’t tell me a thing. Just that we’ll find out when we’re ready.”

“Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Nick said. “I don’t like all these secrets. Doesn’t that bother you guys? I mean—”

Leroy sat his bowl on the table and plopped down beside Nick.

“Crazy day, huh?” Leroy said, his tone upbeat, almost cheerful.

Nick looked away in disgust, staring into his empty bowl. Nobody spoke for a long moment.

Cricket sighed. “Abraham told me about what you did, Leroy.” She stuck out her hand. “Thanks.”

Leroy’s face lit up. He shook Cricket’s hand. “Hell, the whole thing was just crazy, that’s all.”

Danny tried to straighten his glasses, pushing at the broken frame as he weighed the situation. He didn’t put out his hand but he did say, “Thanks.” And it sounded to Nick like he meant it.

“Hey,” Leroy said. “I know I can be a real shit sometimes. But…if you guys can cut me a little slack…I mean, what I’m trying to say is I’d really like to start over with you guys. What’d you say? Friends?”

Cricket and Danny took a moment, nodded to each other, and finally both of them said, “Friends.” Nick remained quiet.

“I’m going to be a Devil now. Devils look after each other,” Leroy said, and stuck out his hand to Nick. “Right, Nick?”

Nick didn’t look at him. He just poked at his bowl with his spoon.