The Child Thief

looked behind him at the handful of Devils pulling up the rear, every face greeting him with kinship and comradery. Nick had never experienced anything like it, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was beginning to enjoy being a Devil. He even wondered if this was why so many people loved team sports, this sense of coming together under one banner against a common foe.

The forest changed as they continued their downward track through the gray and dying trees. The land turned ashen and soggy underfoot. The fog thickened, clinging to the ground. The trees seemed to shrink, to wither, bending beneath their own weight, their jagged limbs clawing the sky like drowning men.

After about an hour’s march, a tangy burning smell assailed Nick’s nostrils. Smoke, fires, he thought. The Flesh-eaters can’t be too far away. And suddenly it was all too real. It’s one thing to hit a straw dummy and pretend you’re fighting monsters, quite another to know that monsters—ones even Redbone and Sekeu were wary of—were not only real but nearby.

Peter gestured the Devils to him, and they gathered around. He put a finger to his lips and whispered: “We must be silent. Follow my hand signals. Stay close.”

Nick’s heart sped up and he had to force himself to slow his breathing. How close? he wondered. His eyes darted everywhere, trying to peer through the ground fog; every rotten bush and stump suddenly looked liked a monster. Nick wrapped his hand tightly around Maldiriel’s hilt, wondering yet again what it would be like to actually face a man with a sword, hoping to God he wouldn’t have to find out.

Peter raised a hand and they halted. He slipped up ahead, surveying the terrain before waving the Devils to follow. Silently, they pushed through a mesh of undergrowth until they could see down a steep slope into a valley. Peter signaled to stay low.

Between the rolling waves of low-lying clouds, Nick scanned the burned and ravaged land. His blood went cold, there below them—Flesh-eaters. From where he lay, they were little more than ant-sized dots milling about near the burning trees. Nick’s mouth suddenly felt dry as he watched them moving in and out of the black smoke.

He glanced at Peter. Peter’s face was grim as he took in every movement. Strange to see such severity on Peter’s face, Nick thought. No boyish mischief here; what Nick saw looked wild and scary —deadly.

PETER TOOK IN a deep breath. So many. He hadn’t counted on so many—at least sixty or seventy Flesh-eaters that he could see. There’d be more, and somewhere among them—the Captain. A direct assault would be a gallant way to die, but Peter wasn’t looking for a way to die. He wanted to drive them out of Whisperwood and save Avalon. He fought to keep his despair hidden. If he lost confidence in front of the Devils, all would be lost. He now understood why Tanngnost had tried so hard to bring the clans together in one coordinated attack. And, as much as he hated to even think it, if Ulfger would bear Caliburn, they could drive the Captain and his Flesh-eaters into the Mist this very day.

Peter realized he was grinding his teeth, and took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Now wasn’t the time for maybes and what-ifs; he must stay focused. One way or another, they had to stop these demons.

There, the barrels. He watched the figures march back and forth between a pair of barrels and the trees. He slipped up closer, squinted. So, it must be oil after all. He nodded to himself. Then maybe there is another way.

Peter signaled them back. They gathered in a small ravine. Peter squatted on his haunches and they followed his example.

“We’re after the oil,” Peter said in a hushed tone. “Whisperwood isn’t a typical forest even by Avalon standards. Most of the trees are living beings, each with its own spirit. They see and hear and even whisper to one another.” And long ago, before the Flesh-eaters came, they used to sing to each other, and there was no song more beautiful. “Beneath their thick bark is flesh and blood. Those trees won’t burn by torch alone. The Flesh-eaters are brushing oil on them to set them ablaze, burning them alive.

“They can’t have much oil left, not after all these years. They must be desperate, to be using the last of their reserves. If we knock over those barrels and dump their oil, it’ll put an end to the burning of Whisperwood.

“We don’t have enough Devils to push through that many Flesh-eaters, so this is what we’re going to do. We’re going to draw them away from the oil with an attack by a main force and send in a small squad to knock over the barrels.

“The Captain knows our tricks. He’ll not be easily fooled. We have to make this a real assault, or he won’t give chase. He knows we’ve the advantage in the forest, and will be reluctant to follow us into the woods. So we’ll have to take the fight to the edge of the fields. Try to draw the Flesh-eaters in. Hit and run, hit and run, avoid a full engagement at all cost. We won’t be able to do much damage and neither will they, and that’s what I want. Remember, all that matters is that we distract them long enough for the squad to dart in, get past whatever guard is left, and knock over those barrels.

“Sekeu, you’re in charge of the squad. Redbone, Abraham, Leroy, and Nick, go with Sekeu.”

Peter caught the anxious looks on Leroy’s and Nick’s faces. He looked them square in the eye and smiled confidently. They have to know you believe in them, or they won’t believe in themselves. But a darker voice knew this would be dangerous, that he was sending two of them after the barrels in the hopes that at least one would make it. He held little hope either would return. “You’re not to engage unless you have to. Your role is to focus on the barrels. Sekeu, Abraham, and Redbone will take care of any guards. Nick, Leroy, I’m giving you two the most important task of this whole operation. I wouldn’t pick you unless I knew you could do this. Are you with me?”

Nick and Leroy still looked unsure, but they both nodded.

“Good. Sekeu, take your group and circle around to the east side of the clearing. Wait under cover until you hear us attack. We’ll come in from the west side. You know the drill: get in and out as fast as you can.

“Danny, Cricket, you’re coming with me.” Cricket also looked nervous, but Danny looked absolutely petrified. Peter caught his hands trembling and thought the boy might start crying at any moment. He’s not ready. Peter wondered if he should leave the boy behind. No, now is not the time to play it safe.

“Danny, Cricket, you’re going to do fine. Your role is simply to make our numbers look more impressive. Hang back, make a lot of noise, and stay well clear of the combat. Think you can do that?”

They both agreed, but Danny still looked petrified.

“Remember, our goal is to draw them away from the barrels. As soon as the barrels are knocked over, we all run into the forest. If anyone from either party gets separated, we meet back here. You can see this outcropping of red boulders from just about anywhere in the valley.”

Peter stood up and let a wicked smile slide across his face. “Time to play.”

The Devils grinned back. “Time to play.” 

Photographic Insert

PETER

THE WITCH

SEKEU

THE LADY

THE TROLL

ULFGER