The Child Thief

“The darkness?” Peter asked, almost choking on the words. “No, that’s not possible!”

The troll looked pained. “I know this is hard. But…I was there. I saw it with my own eyes. We all did. Nick’s out of his mind, Peter. He attacked Leroy. I’ve never seen such rage.”

“But how?” Peter asked, his voice cracking. “How? You were there. The Lady…she healed him. She drove it from him. You saw it. Tell me you saw it!”

“The Lady…well, she’s so weak. Maybe it didn’t hold. Maybe—” Tanngnost looked baffled. “Peter, I don’t know. I wish I had an answer.”

“No,” Peter said, shaking his head. “No, it’s not the darkness. I won’t believe it.”

Leroy came stumbling through the entrance, his back to them, staring at something out in the woods. His back bumped into the door and he quickly shoved it closed, fumbling to slide the heavy slat into place.

“Where is he?” Tanngnost asked.

Leroy jumped; the slat slid from his hands, landing on the stones with a solid thud. He spun around and glanced wildly about the room. His eyes fell on Sekeu, went to Peter, and became wide, afraid. He backed into the door. “Nick killed her!” he said.

“Yes,” the troll said. “Where did he go?”

“He’s in the woods,” Leroy said quickly. “I tried to stop him…but he has a sword… his sword and I don’t…didn’t.” Leroy’s eyes kept shifting back to Sekeu. “If I had a weapon I would’ve stopped him. I tried to stop him.”

“Where in the woods?” Tanngnost pressed. “Which direction was he going?”

“Toward Goggie Creek.”

“Peter,” Tanngnost said. “We have to catch him now. Right now.”

Peter didn’t answer.

“Peter, don’t you understand? We can’t let him fall into the hands of the Flesh-eaters. He knows where Deviltree is. Knows our numbers, our plans. They’ll get him to talk. Everything’s at stake. Peter, he knows where the Haven lies!”

Peter’s eyes fixed on Sekeu’s long black hair spilling out from beneath the blanket. He touched it, ran his fingers through it. Sekeu, how?

Redbone brought Peter a spear. The Devils were lined up behind him. They looked anxious. “We’re ready,” Redbone said. “Peter?”

“Just go,” Tanngnost said to the group and herded them toward the door. “Hurry, before it’s too late. Take everyone. You’ll need every pair of eyes. Danny, Cricket, you too.” He snatched spears off the wall and pushed them into their hands. “Take no chances. Remember, this isn’t Nick. This isn’t your friend. Nick’s gone from us—what’s left is a monster.” He raised his voice. “Kill him on sight. Whatever you do, don’t let him fall into the hands of the Flesh-eaters.”

Peter heard all this as though from somewhere far away.

The troll sat down next to Peter.

Peter continued to stroke Sekeu’s hair as his thoughts stumbled over one another. How could I have let this happen? He pressed his hand to his temple. Because I’d been so sure. Because I saw the Lady heal him, that’s how. There’s something else going on here. It has to be something else.

He looked at Maldiriel, at the blood, Sekeu’s blood, still wet on the fine elven blade. Peter’s brow tightened. Hadn’t Leroy said Nick had a sword in the woods? Yes, he’d made a point of saying it.

“Tanngnost.”

“Yes.”

“You saw Nick kill Sekeu?”

“Yes, well, no. I didn’t actually see him do it. But I—”

“Did any of the kids? Did any of them see it?”

“Yes. Leroy did.”

“Where’s Leroy?”

“He went with the others.”

Peter thought of the odd way Leroy had acted. Nothing he could put his finger on, but definitely not right. “I need to talk to Nick,” Peter said and before the troll could protest, Peter snatched up the spear and ran out the door.

THEY COME, ULFGER thought. Twenty-three, maybe twenty- four little boys and girls, all spread out, hunting the rabbit. He opened his eyes. He could see the faintest glow pushing through the tree tops as dawn’s first light touched the low clouds.

He closed his eyes again, because he could see so much more with them shut. It seemed the longer he wore the helmet the further he could see, as though his mind and the helmet were melding, fusing, becoming one.

Just ahead, the rabbit had stopped again. Ulfger could sense the boy’s disorientation, his fear. Beyond the rabbit, they waited at the forest’s edge, the Flesh-eaters. So many Ulfger couldn’t count them all, but he could sense their hate, their need for murder.

He’d followed the rabbit all night, kept it on course. When the rabbit slowed down, or strayed, he merely made his presence known and the little rabbit got moving again.

Avallach had been kind, too kind, had made it all too easy. The rabbit would lead the child thief and his brats right to the Flesh-eaters, right into their trap. And then—oh, and then. Ulfger laughed, couldn’t help himself; he felt like he would never stop laughing.

A TWIG SNAPPED, and Nick’s eyes flew open. Faint light pushed through the tangled limbs above him. How long had he been asleep? He glanced anxiously about. Was it here? How could he have allowed himself to fall asleep with that horrible creature hunting him? Every time he’d thought he’d lost it, every time he’d stopped to catch his breath, it had appeared, its red eyes glowering at him, clawing their way into his head.

Nick tried to get his bearings, but the fog was thick. He could barely see twenty paces in any direction— another snap, somewhere behind him. Nick slid his hand around the hilt of his knife, wishing he’d held on tighter to his sword. He stood and crept off, but the ground was soggy and the sticky mud pulled beneath his feet. Suddenly footsteps came rapidly toward him. He saw Dirk staring at him across a thicket of thorns, the boy’s eyes as wide and frightened as his own.

Nick raised his hands. “Dirk, I didn’t do it! You got to believe—”

Dirk leaped forward and threw his spear. Nick managed to duck the missile; the blade whisked past his head and stuck into a tree.

“HERE! HE’S HERE!” Dirk shouted, yanking out his sword and charging through the thorns for Nick.

Nick ran, dashed into the bushes, found a small trail, and sprinted down it as fast as he could go. Shouts came from all around him and he spied several figures in the fog, running parallel to him through the trees.

Nick broke into a large clearing of gray, knee-high grass, and another group of Devils shot out into the clearing ahead of him. Nick cut away and darted toward a thin line of trees. He could see the burning fields through their branches and it occurred to him if he could make it out there, then maybe, maybe, the Devils wouldn’t follow.

A spear whisked past him, so close he actually felt its wake. The Devils howled like beasts, and Nick knew how a deer must feel when chased by wolves. A shrill cry escaped his own throat—eyes wide, heart pounding, as his legs whipped through the tall grass.

Nick closed in on the line of trees, could smell the soggy burned wood beyond. A spear slapped off his thigh, the shaft tangled in his legs. Nick went sprawling into the grass.

PETER HEARD SHOUTS in the distance. Sounds were tricky in the thick fog. He stopped and cocked his head from side to side as he tried to locate their direction.

He’d found what he thought were Nick’s tracks just before dawn and followed them. But the tracks had run