The Child Thief

nuts he carried wasn’t light, plus the day was fading, the shadows growing dark. Nick didn’t really care to be out in the night.

There were no signs of new buds here, nothing but endless gray. Still, he sensed a current beneath the gray. It’s the magic, he realized—the Lady had opened his eyes to the magic. The hills around him felt like a winter woodland just before spring.

The dark feelings, the heat in his stomach, were completely gone. He felt the fatigue of the long day, but his spirit was alive, as though the magic of Avalon and his body were at last in harmony. His thoughts kept drifting back to the world behind the falls, the flowers, the magical animals, the sweet smells, the hundreds of little faerie folk… the Lady. “The Lady,” he whispered; she consumed his thoughts—her cerulean eyes, her silky hair, her pale skin, so white as to almost be blue. Visions of her soothed him. He felt…what? Love? Yes, he realized, like a mother’s love.

Nick stopped dead in his tracks. A stab of guilt jabbed his chest. “Mom,” he said. He realized with horror that he’d forgotten about his own mother. She’d not just slipped his mind, he’d completely forgotten her. She seemed a distant memory, someone he’d known forever ago. It was as though the Lady had, had—what? Pushed his mother from his mind? Had taken her place somehow? He concentrated on his mother’s face and this helped clear his mind. All at once the Lady’s words came back to him, raw and bare: I am your life. I am your death. I am all things forever and always. Love me. Love me. Forever love me. A chill ran down his spine. She’s done more than healed me, he realized. She’s woven a spell. He cut his eyes left and right, felt sure someone, something, everything, was watching him. Nick realized he had to return soon, because Avalon was a seductive place. Because goddesses were obviously jealous creatures that didn’t compete for devotion, not even with mothers. Nick had no doubt that if he didn’t leave soon, he’d never leave, and after a while all the memories of his mother would be lost forever.

Someone jabbed him. “You better keep your mouth shut.”

Nick started. He’d been so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed Leroy come up behind him. The others were ahead. Nick began walking again.

“Did you hear me?” Leroy said, speaking low.

Nick ignored him.

Leroy’s face twisted into a sneer. “Hey, I’m talking to you, asshole.” He jabbed his finger into Nick’s chest. “You ever bring that bullshit about Abraham up again and I’ll kill you…fucking kill you!”

A flash of Abraham’s face, his terrified eyes as he choked to death beneath the black water came to Nick, all because Leroy hadn’t taken the two seconds to pull him out of the bog. Nick felt anger—no heat in his stomach, no pounding in his head—just good old reliable rage, it swelled up in him and all he could see was Leroy, big, stupid Leroy standing there sneering at him.

“Fuck you!” Nick spat and slammed his sack into Leroy’s chest, slammed his fist into Leroy’s face, catching the bigger boy high on the cheek, knocking him to the ground. Both Nick’s sack and Leroy’s hit the ground, spilling fruit and nuts all across the trail.

Leroy put a hand to his cheek, his eyes wide. Whatever he’d expected from Nick, this was definitely not it. His hands clenched into fists and he started for his feet.

“ENOUGH!” Sekeu cried from behind them. She stood on one leg, leaning against Tanngnost.

The troll cast hard eyes on Nick, scrutinizing him.

“He attacked me!” Leroy said. “Look at him, he’s crazy.”

Sekeu’s eyes blazed, but she wasn’t looking at Nick, her glare rested on Leroy. “You do not have the right to even talk to him. Not after what you did.”

Leroy’s mouth fell open. “What? No…you got it wrong! That bastard.” He jabbed a finger at Nick. “It’s his fault. He knocked me into the bog. He’s trying to pin this on me. Can’t you see that?” The way Leroy said it, Nick felt sure he truly believed it had happened that way.

“No,” Sekeu said, her words cold and flat. “That is not what happened.”

Leroy shook his head, his mouth worked, but he seemed unable to speak.

“You should be shamed, Leroy,” Sekeu said. “You should keep your head low.”

Chapter Nineteen Murder

The shadows deepened and night came to the Lady’s Wood. Ulfger stood as still as a statue at the edge of the forest. He closed his eyes and opened himself to the night. He sensed the fish in the wading pool, the frogs, a lone fox, a pair of doves sharing a limb and cooing to each other. He sensed the bond between the birds, the love of lifelong mates. He pushed at them, told them to be afraid of each other, and felt the fear grip them, heard them flap away in different directions, as fast as they could fly.

Ulfger smiled and turned his attention to the elven barracks, the ornate longhouse that stood sentinel in the courtyard next to the Great Hall. The elves were back. He could sense all twenty-one of them within the wooden structure. They were not so easy to read as the animals, but he felt their excitement as they prepared for battle.

A door opened. A ray of torchlight flickered across the courtyard. Four elves came out with canteens strapped over their shoulders and headed down the path past the wading pools. Ulfger followed them to the ancient well and watched them filling the canteens. He hefted the broken blade and strolled toward them, not even bothering to hide his step. The elves caught sight of Ulfger and pulled their swords. Ulfger swung, meeting two of the swords mid-strike, smashing effortlessly through their block and cleaving both of their heads from their shoulders.

One of the remaining elves landed a blow across Ulfger’s midsection, but his armor deflected the cut. The other slashed across his upper arm, cutting deep into the muscle. Ulfger felt the heat of the wound and locked his eyes, his fiery eyes, on the elves and in that moment he found their fear, seized upon it with his mind, managed to hold them with it long enough to slam his sword onto the head of the forward elf, cleaving his skull in two, dashing the other in bits of blood and brains.

He grabbed the remaining elf around the neck, dug his fingers into flesh, and picked him up as though the elf weighed nothing. He could so easily snap the elf’s neck with one twist but instead he brought the black blade to the elf’s eye. The elf saw the poisonous edge and clawed frantically at Ulfger’s hand.

“Why do you squirm so?” Ulfger asked. “If you are true to Avallach, the blade won’t burn you.” He touched the edge to the elf’s cheek, made the slightest nick. The cut immediately began to blacken, to sizzle, to burn away from the bone like acid. Ulfger felt the heat beneath his hand as the poison spread inside the elf, felt the gurgling as the sizzling blood bubbled up the elf’s throat, pouring from his mouth, nose, eyes. Ulfger held him, enjoying every last tremor until at last the elf was still.

Ulfger dropped the elf, then examined the cut on his own arm. He was surprised to see that the wound wasn’t deeper, that there was no blood. It had been a strong strike. Then he noticed that the wound was shrinking, healing before his eyes. “I’m…I am truly a god!” he cried. “I am the Horned One.” He sucked in a deep breath of the night air. “Time for the child thief to meet Avallach’s true son.”

ULFGER WALKED THE path through Devilwood without fear. He sensed the rare creature and when he did, he told it to be afraid, and the beasts fled before him. “Dread me,” he whispered. “Dread my coming!”

He searched the wood, looking for signs or trails that might lead him the right way, but more and more he