by Terry Brooks
Too late for me, John Ross thought in despair, knowing the price he would now be forced to pay for having required use of the magic. Way too late.
As he closed his eyes against his body’s and spirit’s pain, he heard Josie call his name, and in the ensuing silence he reached out his hand to find her.
CHAPTER 23
Nest Freemark sat with her friends on the grass at the edge of the pavilion and watched the dancers sway and glide to the strains of the music. All about them, families and couples sat visiting on blankets and lawn chairs, their faces reflecting the colors of the lanterns strung from the pavilion’s eaves. The sun’s heat lingered, but a faint breeze wafted off the river now and cooled those gathered just enough that they could put the salty aftertaste of the daylight’s swelter behind them. The breeze and the music wove together, soothing nerves and easing discomfort. Smiles came out of hiding, and people remembered the importance of using kind words. The night was as soft as velvet, and it cradled them in its arms and eased them toward sleep.
Robert was explaining something about computers to Jared. Brianna and Cass were talking about school clothes and makeup. Nest was wondering how she had let this happen.
It could have been so wonderful, she thought wistfully.
Things weren’t working out the way she had planned. Jared had found her easily enough in the twilight hour before sunset when the band was setting up and the floor of the pavilion was being swept clean. For a few brief moments, while they were standing alone beneath one of the old hardwoods, she had thought that now, at last, she would have her chance to talk with him, to really talk with him, just the two of them. She had thought he might confide in her, that he might tell her something he had never told anyone—and that perhaps she would tell him something wonderful or startling in turn. She had come out of the day worn and dejected from her battle to discover the truth behind John Ross and her family, and she had reached a point where she just wanted to let go of everything for a little while. No demon, no maentwrog, no Pick, no magic. Just a boy she liked and wanted to be with. It didn’t seem too much to ask. She had looked forward to it all day. She had imagined what it would be like, how good it would make her feel. She would talk with him, dance with him and, if things worked out just right, let him kiss her. She would look at him and feel good about herself for just a few moments.
They were easing in that direction when Robert, Cass, and Brianna joined them. One, two, three, there they were, her friends, all smiles, clueless that she wanted to be alone with Jared, wanted them to get lost, to just disappear. Why she hadn’t seen that this might happen, she didn’t know. But now that it had, she felt oddly betrayed. It was selfish and small of her to feel that way, but she couldn’t help herself. She was feeling trapped at every turn, so hemmed in by the events of her life that she was finding it difficult to breathe. She had thought she might gain a small respite from her troubles at this dance. It didn’t look like that was going to happen.
She shifted uncomfortably on the grass, trying to decide what to do. Maybe she should go home. Maybe she should just give it up. She glanced at Jared, her eyes hot and angry, willing him to say something, to do something. Anything. She kept thinking he would, but he just sat there. Maybe she should be the one to say or do something, she fumed, but that didn’t seem right either.
So she sat there with her momentarily inconvenient friends, listening to the music, watching the dancers, and wishing for a minor miracle.
She got her miracle when Jared finally stood up and in a breathless rush of words asked her to dance. With a hasty apology to the other three, she scrambled to her feet and followed him out onto the dance floor, a surge of adrenaline sending her pulse racing and her spirits soaring. She took his left hand in her right and moved awkwardly into his embrace. His arm went about her waist and his hand rested on the small of her back. She could feel the heat of his skin. They began to dance, slowly, cautiously, gradually adjusting to each other’s movements. Jared led tentatively, but determinedly, easing her between the other dancers, moving with the rhythm of the slow, soft music. Nest was as tall as he was, and she ducked her chin toward his shoulder to make herself smaller. She liked the way he held her. She liked how he smelled and how he glanced at her every so often to see if she was all right. His shy smile made her want to weep.
She closed her eyes and eased closer to him, feeling his arms tighten about her. She had her escape. She buried her face in his shoulder. She did not try to look for Cass or Brianna or Robert. She did not try to look for anyone. She kept her eyes closed and moved with Jared Scott, letting him take her wherever he would, giving herself over to him.
They danced that dance and several more. When the music quickened, they continued to dance slow. Nest felt her weariness, doubt, and fear slip away, fading into the background of movement and sound. She felt wonderfully at peace; she felt loving and hopeful. She held Jared close, pressing herself to him, her face buried in his neck, in the rough tangle of his hair. They did not speak, not a word the entire time. There was nothing to say that needed saying, and any attempt at words would spoil what was happening.
So good, Nest thought, her breathing soft and slow. So sweet.
Then she let her eyes slip open for just a moment, and she saw the demon.
He was walking past the dance floor, weaving through the families clustered on the grass, a solitary, shadowy figure. He was still in his human guise as the park maintenance man, though he did not wear coveralls or work clothes this night, but plain slacks and a collared shirt. He was not looking at her, or at anyone, but at some point in the distance beyond what she could see, his gaze bright and intense. Nest stopped dancing at once, staring after him as he moved away. Where was John Ross? She hadn’t seen him since her grandparents had gone home after the picnic. She had to find him at once.
But the demon was already disappearing into the darkness, withdrawing from the light. She was going to lose him.
“What’s the matter?” Jared asked, his hands releasing her as she backed away. She could tell from the sound of his voice that he was afraid he might have done something wrong. His face was pained and uncertain as he stared at her.
Her eyes locked instantly on his. “That’s the man I’ve been searching for, the one I told you about, the one who’s poisoning the trees.” Her words came in a rush. “Go get the others, Jared, then go find John Ross. You know John, you saw him earlier with my grandparents. Find him and tell him where I’ve gone—that way.” She pointed in the direction of the demon, who was already almost out of sight. “Hurry, I’ll be out there waiting!”
She was moving quickly now, leaving Jared and his futile protests behind, darting through the crowd in an effort to keep up with the demon. She would not approach him, of course. She knew how dangerous that would be. But she would keep him in sight and try to find out where he was going.
She hustled past the people gathered about the pavilion and hurried into the dark. She could still see the demon, just at the edge of her vision as he crossed the grass toward the toboggan slide and turned down along the edge of the roadway leading to the west end of the park. She slowed a bit, not wanting to get too close, relying on the darkness to conceal her. She wished she had Pick or Daniel with her to help track the demon, but she hadn’t seen either one in several hours. She would have to make do without them. Her eyes swept the darkness of the trees about her. Was Wraith anywhere close? If the demon should turn on her, would she have any protection at all? She pushed the question aside and went on.
The sounds of the music and the dance faded behind her, giving way to the steady buzz of the locusts and the more distant, intermittent sounds of traffic from the highway. She slipped silently through the park trees, shadowy and invisible in the night. She could move without making any sound; Pick had taught her how to do that. She had good night vision as well. The demon wouldn’t lose her easily. Not that it appeared as if he would try. It didn’t seem that he was worried about being follow
ed. He walked without looking back, his eyes straight ahead, his pace steady. Nest crept along in his wake.
She followed the demon through the trees above the river from the east end of the park to the west, closing on the bridge that spanned the road where it looped back on itself and descended from the heights to the base of the cliffs. She kept looking over her shoulder, hoping to discover John Ross following, come to her aid, but there was no sign of him. She wondered more than once if she ought to turn back, but each time she told herself she would go on just a little farther. The sky was bright with stars, but the heavy canopy of the trees masked much of their light and left the woods in heavy darkness. There was no one out this far, she knew. Anyone in the park tonight was at the dance. If the demon kept going, he would soon be in the cemetery. Nest wondered suddenly if that was his destination. She thought suddenly of her mother, buried there. She thought next of Two Bears.
Then abruptly the demon stopped beneath a streetlamp just before the bridge span and stood looking off into the distance. Was he expecting someone? Nest crept closer. Careful, she warned herself. This was as close as she needed to be.
She hunched down beside a stand of fir, waiting for something to happen. Then a familiar voice hissed at her from behind. “Hey, Nest, whatcha doing?”
She jumped to her feet and whirled about. Danny Abbott stood six feet away, hands on his hips, grinning broadly. “Who’re you spying on?”
“Danny, get out of here!” she hissed furiously.
His grin widened. “That guy over there?” he asked, and pointed behind her.
When she turned to see if the demon was still there, if he had been warned, a rush of shadows closed on her. She cried out and fought to escape, but she was knocked from her feet and slammed to the ground. The air went out of her lungs, and bright lights exploded behind her eyes as her head struck the exposed root of a tree. She could hear Danny Abbott laughing. Someone was sitting astride her, forcing her face into the dirt. A strip of electrician’s tape was slapped over her mouth. Her arms were pinned behind her, and more tape was wound about her wrists. Then she was yanked to her feet and a burlap feed sack was pulled over her head and body and more tape was wound about her ankles, securing the open end of the sack below her knees.
When she was thoroughly bagged and trussed, she was slung over a burly shoulder. For a second everything went quiet except for the breathing of her attackers and her own stifled sobs.
“You crying?” Danny Abbott said, his mouth right next to her ear. She heard the pleasure in his voice and went still instantly. “You think you’re so tough, don’t you? Well, let’s just see how tough you really are. Let’s put it to the test. We’re gonna take you down where the sun don’t shine, little girl, and see how you like it. Let you spend a night in the dark. Know what I’m talking about, Nest? Sure, you do. The caves, sweet stuff. That’s where you’re going. Way down in the deep, dark caves.”
They carried her like a sack of grain down the road that wound under the bridge to the base of the cliffs. She was cocooned in hot blackness inside the feed sack and jostled against the bony back and shoulders of the boy carrying her. She screamed against the tape that bound her mouth, but her cries were muffled and futile. She was furious with Danny Abbott and however many of his friends were responsible for this idiotic stunt, but she was mostly afraid. She had been warned over and over again by Pick never to go down into the caves. The caves were where the feeders lived, where they hid themselves from humans. It was not safe for her in the caves. And now she was being taken there.
She was afraid, too, because there was nothing she could do to help herself. She was bound so tightly by the tape that she could not free her arms and legs. The tape over her mouth kept her from crying out. Because she was inside the feed sack, she could not even see what was happening to her. She could not use the magic because the magic relied on sight contact and she was cloaked in blackness. John Ross would come looking for her, but how would he ever find her? Pick and Daniel were nowhere in sight. Her grandparents had gone home. Her friends were only kids like her.
What about Wraith? Her spirits jumped a notch. Surely he would be able to find her, to do something to help.
She could feel her kidnappers picking their way over uneven ground, their steps growing slow and uncertain. They were leaving the paved road. She heard the click of a flashlight, and Danny Abbott said something about taking it easy. She felt the air grow cooler about her exposed ankles, and then just a bit inside the stifling feed sack. They were entering the caves.
“Set her down over there,” Danny Abbott said.
She fought to contain her growing desperation and tried to reason through what had happened. How had Danny and his friends crept up on her like that without her knowing? They couldn’t have. They must have been waiting. But for them to have been waiting, they must have known she would be coming. A cold, sinking feeling invaded the pit of her stomach. The demon had arranged it all. He had let her see him at the dance, enticed her to follow, and led her to where the boys were waiting to snatch her up and carry her down into the caves. It had to have happened that way.
But why would the demon do that? She closed her eyes inside the blackness of the sack and swallowed against the dryness in her throat. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to that question.
She was lowered from the shoulder of the boy carrying her onto a cold, flat slab of rock. She lay there without moving, listening to the sounds of shuffling feet and low voices.
She heard the rustle of clothing as someone bent over her. “Guess we’ll be going home now,” Danny Abbott said, his voice sounding mean and smug. “You have a nice night, Nest. Think about what a bitch you are, okay? If you think about it hard enough, maybe I’ll decide to come back in the morning and set you free. Maybe.”
They moved away then, laughing and joking about ghosts and spiders, offering up unsavory images of what could happen to someone left alone in the caves. She gritted her teeth and thought with disdain that they didn’t know the half of it.
Then it was quiet, the silence profound. All the night sounds had disappeared—from the woods, the river, the park, the homes, the streets, the entire city. It was as if she had been deposited in one of those sensory-deprivation tanks she had read about. Except, of course, that she could feel the chill of the cave rock working its way through the feed sack and into her body. And she could feel herself trying not to scream.
Water was dripping nearby. She mustered her strength, made a tentative effort at moving, and found she could do so. She worked her way onto her side and managed to sit up. She might be able to get to her feet, she thought suddenly. But then what would she do? She stayed where she was, thinking. Someone would come. Her friends, even if they didn’t find John Ross. They would not abandon her—even though earlier she had wished they would. Tears came to her eyes as she remembered. She was ashamed and embarrassed about the way she had felt. She wished she could take it back.
She pushed her face against the weave of the feed sack so that she could see out. But it was so black inside the caves that even after giving her eyes time to adjust to whatever light there might be, she still couldn’t see a thing. She worked for a long time on freeing her hands, but the tape was strong and pliable, and the adhesive kept it firmly glued to her skin. She was sweating freely within the sack, but even her sweat did not provide sufficient lubrication for her to work her way loose.
She wondered again where Wraith was. Couldn’t he find her here? Was it possible that he couldn’t come into the caves?
Time passed, and despair began to erode her resolve. Maybe no one could find her. It wasn’t as if she had left tracks that anyone could follow. All anyone knew was that she had left the dance at the pavilion and gone west into the park. She could be anywhere. It might take them all night to find her. It might take them more than that. She could easily be here when Danny Abbott and his low-life friends returned in the morning. If they returned at all.
&
nbsp; Why had this happened?
She heard voices then. Someone on the road outside! She tried to call out to them, tried to shout through the tape. She thrashed inside the feed sack, kicking out at anything she could reach to signal them. But the voices passed and receded into silence. No one came. She sat trembling in the dark from her exertion, the sweat drying on her skin.
When she had calmed herself, she began rethinking the possibility of rescue. Whatever else happened, her grandparents would not leave her out here all night. When she didn’t come home from the dance, they would begin searching. Lots of people would help. She would be found. Of course she would be found. Danny Abbott would be sorry then. Her glee at the prospect wavered into uncertainty. Didn’t he know how this would turn out? Didn’t he know what kind of trouble he would be in?
Or was there some reason he wasn’t worried about it?
Time dragged on. After a while, she became aware that she wasn’t alone. It didn’t happen all at once; the feeling crept over her gradually as she pondered her fate. She couldn’t hear or see anyone, but she could sense that someone was there with her. She went quiet, a slow sense of dread growing inside. Of course there was someone else in the caves, she reproached herself with a mix of fear and anger.
There were the feeders.
They moved almost soundlessly as they surrounded her. She could feel them looking at her, studying her, maybe wondering what she was doing there. She fought down her revulsion, willed herself to stay calm against the sea of despair that threatened to drown her. She felt their hands brush against her, small pricklings that raised goose bumps on her skin. Touching her! She could not identify the feeling—like old paper sacks, maybe, or clothes stiffened with sweat and oil. They had never touched her before, had never had this opportunity, and the thought that they could do so now made her crazy. She fought against the urge to thrash and scream. She forced herself to breathe normally. She tried to pray. Please, God, come for me. Please, don’t let me be hurt.
