The Child Thief

“I can’t even remember their names,” Peter moaned.

Nick hefted Peter to his feet, half-carrying, half-dragging him down the path as the muddy water swept around their feet. Nick could no longer see the tracks, not with all the water, but he caught sight of a blue glimmer dancing just ahead, and followed. Nick realized he could see his shadow and was shocked to find a full moon shining down on them. “Peter, the moon.”

“The Lady’s dead, her Mist is dying,” Peter said, his voice flat.

The earth turned spongy. Water bubbled up everywhere. Dozens of small streams formed and raced them down the trail. Nick saw a magnificent oak tilt slowly over and sink into the gray mud. Soon trees were rolling over all around them, either collapsing or simply swallowed by bubbling sinkholes.

The trail leveled out and the streams formed into creeks, the creeks into small rivers. Nick spotted higher ground ahead, but there was a wide, fast-moving creek in their way. Nick glanced behind; only the tree tops could still be seen and those were rapidly disappearing. They had to ford the creek.

Nick pulled Peter into the cold current. It was to their knees in no time and rising by the second. Nick fought for the shore, but the rushing water was eating away the bank as fast as they moved toward it. The water around them turned rapid as the current rushed over fallen trees and boulders, forming swirling pools of churning debris. The creek suddenly swelled, sweeping both of them from their feet. Nick struggled to keep his hold on Peter as the current took them, spun them, pulled them beneath the foaming waves. Nick wasn’t sure which way was up, yet still would not let go of Peter. His back slid across stones and his head broke the surface. A towering boulder was right before them. Nick snagged a hold, fighting to keep his grip as he held Peter’s head above the water.

“GRAB HOLD!” Nick screamed. “GRAB HOLD, PETER! OR YOU WILL DROWN!”

Peter made no effort. His eyes seemed to be welcoming death.

“GODDAMN IT, PETER!” Nick shouted. “DON’T QUIT! DON’T YOU DARE—” Nick saw the tree—an entire tree tumbling right for them. “Oh shit!” he cried as the limbs smashed into the boulder, raking across the stone, tearing Peter from his grasp and pulling them under in a tangle of twisting branches. Then all was churning bubbles and tumbling darkness as sharp pebbles and twigs and leaves pelted his face and arms. Nick’s chest began to tighten, white spots flashed across his vision, and he realized he was going to drown after all, after all the crap he’d made it through, and he managed to be mad.

Nick slammed into something solid, and thick fingers grabbed hold of his arm, yanking him from the current. He fell onto a rocky bank, coughing and spitting out water. He heard a tired sigh and wiped the water and mud from his eyes. There, towering above him, was Tanngnost. Behind the troll stood Drael and four elves; behind them, sitting on the ground, was Peter, looking like a drowned rat.

“Nicky?” came a cautious voice. Cricket came up to him. She looked torn between relief and horror.

“Get away from him,” commanded a stern voice. A Devil Nick knew as Cutter glowered down at him. Nick had never heard more than two words from Cutter, had rarely seen him join in on the games or jokes. He was a serious, reserved kid with dark, severe eyes, and Nick was alarmed to find those eyes locked on him now. Behind Cutter stood the remaining Devils, seven of them, and every one of them looked ready to slit Nick’s throat.

“He owes us blood,” Cutter said and slid his knife from his belt.

“Oh looky, the children are going to play,” came a little girl’s voice.

Nick spun around to see the three sisters, a handful of barghest, and the witch.

The Devils surrounded Nick.

Nick looked for Peter, but Peter lay crumpled in a ball, his hands wrapped around his head, lost to the world around him.

“You can’t do that!” Cricket said. “You can’t just kill him. Tanngnost, make them stop!”

The troll’s eyes were filled with resigned sadness, but he made no move to stop them.

“Avallach demands your life,” Cutter said, and the Devils nodded in agreement.

Nick looked from face to face and what he saw chilled him. Their faces—so like the Flesh-eaters in the village—filled with the same fanaticism, the same need to spill blood to appease their god.

“Leave him alone,” came a low, flat voice. Peter.

The Devils exchanged confused looks.

“But Peter,” Cutter said. “He killed Sekeu. He—”

“No,” Peter said. “It wasn’t him.”

The Devils actually looked disappointed.

“Then who?” Cutter asked.

Peter didn’t answer. He just held his head in his hands.

“We’ll sort this out later,” Tanngnost said. “For now we have to keep moving. The Lady can’t be far.”

Peter’s head jerked up. “What? What did you say?”

“The Lady, Peter. The Flesh-eaters have her.”

“She’s alive?”

“Yes. Didn’t you know?”

Peter was on his feet, he grabbed the troll’s arm. “You saw her? You’re sure?”

“Yes,” the troll said. “I thought you knew.”

Peter’s eyes lit up, suddenly alert and eager. “Let’s go!”

THE CAPTAIN STOOD on the bank of the dark, rising water and watched the body drift past. A woman from the fort, floating facedown, her long hair reaching out like tentacles in the swirling current. A moment later, a portion of a roof drifted by, then two more bodies, a man and a woman, then a pig.

He looked to the heavens; for the first time in so many centuries they had the stars and moon—like the face of an old and dear friend—to light their way. God, what a welcome sight. But it did them little good when the very land was collapsing beneath their feet. The ships had succumbed to the sea ages ago. They’d stored the boats upstream from the fort. But if the fort itself was gone, how could they ever find the boats?

He glanced at the sorceress, or demon, or whatever she be. She stood nude, muddy, with dried blood streaking down her face and breasts. They’d strapped a rope around her neck and pulled her along, kicking and beating her when she’d fallen. But she didn’t seem to feel any of it, only stared ahead, eyes focused on nothing. The Captain was disgusted by this senseless torment. Her spell was broken. They should kill her and be done. But the Reverend demanded they bring her back to the church, to burn her upon holy ground, to burn her before God. Only there was no more holy ground. So what would these madmen do now?

The wall of mist was sliding down from the sky, pulling away from the shore, evaporating even as he watched. Soon the sky and the sea would be clear. How many untold days and nights had he prayed for this? And now their prayers were answered. Now what? What good did it do them if they had no boats? They were still just as trapped—proof that God was merely playing with them.

Most of the men paced in tight circles or shifted aimlessly from foot to foot, staring slack-jawed up at the stars or down at the rising water. The others kneeled around the Reverend and lent their voices to his prayer as he paced rapidly to and fro, face to the heavens, begging God for a miracle.

The Captain kept Danny close. He saw the fear on the boy’s face. The Captain scanned the horizon. There was no more high ground. Water bubbled up everywhere, streams, creeks, and rivulets were converging, rapidly covering all the remaining land. Soon they’d all be in the sea. Another bit of thatched rooftop slipped past. They might not have any boats, but if he could rope together some of this debris, Daniel and he might be able to drift to shore. Only he didn’t believe the Reverend would allow it. No, if a miracle didn’t present itself, he was sure the Reverend intended for them all to go down together. Now, he thought, while the Reverend’s distracted, it’s a good time for us to slip away.

The Captain spied a clump of boulders and bushes banking the water not thirty feet away. If they could get past that unseen, they’d be free. He grabbed the boy’s hand and headed away. They’d barely made ten strides when a fervent voice called out. “Where are you going?”

The Captain knew that the Reverend was addressing him, but he kept walking.

“Captain.”

The Captain cursed under his breath and turned.

“Captain, where are you going?”