Running with the Demon (39 page)

And survive. For he is hunted by the demons and their allies, by the once-men who serve them, and by the things that are given over to the Void. Few remain who can resist them. He is one. They hunt him every night of his life. They have caught him more than once. They have killed him, he thinks, but he does not know for sure. The future changes each night. Perhaps it changes his fate as well
.

He recalls all of it now. He has his memories of the past to fill in the gaps, so that even though it is his first night, he is a veteran of his dreams already. The truths rise up and confront him. He is crippled so that he will not ever give up the staff. Without the staff, he has no magic. Without the staff, he is helpless. If he cannot walk without the staff to aid him, he is far less likely to be careless with it. After all, it is his only protection. He is crippled so that he will remember
.

So it has been settled on him. His past is linked to his future. If he fails in his mission of service to the Word, the future he resides in each night will come to pass. He will be whole again, but he will inherit the destruction and ruin he surveys. And he will pay a further price. Magic summoned in the present will be lost to him in the future. Each time he uses the magic in his former life, he is deprived of it in the latter for an indeterminate amount of time. He must use the magic wisely and effectively when he invokes it, or one day, at a time or place not of his choosing, in a situation when he needs it most, he may find himself weaponless
.

He stands alone within the trees on the hillside above the ruined city and ponders what it means for him to sleep and why he must always keep solitary and apart …

“Josie,” he said softly, searching for the right words.

There was sudden movement in the shadows, the sound of rushing footsteps and heavy breathing. Ross turned as the shadows closed on him, swift and menacing. He stepped away from Josie, trying to place her behind him. He heard her gasp in surprise, saw the masked faces of the men who reached for him. He struggled to comprehend their muttered threats, and then they were upon him.

They bore him backward toward the crest of the rise, reaching for his arms and shoulders, trying to tear the staff from his hands. He cried out to them,
No, wait, what are you doing?
He fought to free himself, wrenching the staff away, shielding it. One took a swing at him, trying to hit him in the face, but he ducked aside. He could not move quickly, could not run with his bad leg. He was forced to stand. He heard one of them call him names, ugly and crude, heard another call him “spy” and “company pig.”
I’m not!
he tried to explain. Josie shouted at them, furious,
What are you doing? Stop it! Get away from him!
He was in danger of going down. He braced himself against the rush and swung the high end of the staff sharply at the nearest attacker. He felt the wood connect with bone, and the man grunted and staggered back. He used the
lower end to hammer the shins of another man, and that one howled openly in pain.

Then they were all over him, bearing him to the ground. Fists struck at him as he slammed into the earth. Someone was kicking at his ribs. He heard Josie scream, saw her rush forward to try to protect him, arms flailing. A boot slammed into his head, bringing pain and bright light. He tried to throw off the ones who held him down, tried to regain his feet. The staff had been pushed aside so that he could no longer bring it to bear. They were still trying to wrench it from his hands, to take away his only protection. He felt the blows rain down on him, felt blood fill his mouth. It was getting harder to breathe. Josie was still screaming, but her voice was hoarse, and it sounded as if a hand had been clamped over her mouth.

A boot pinned his left wrist to the earth.
Don’t do this!
he wanted to scream at them, but could not make himself. He fought in silent, futile desperation to break free. They were wrenching at the staff, tearing at his fingers, leaving him no choice …

Stop, please!

The runes carved into the polished black surface began to pulse with light. A fiery heat burned its gnarled length.

No!

The magic exploded from the staff in a rush of white brilliance, detonating with such fury that it seemed to consume the air itself, a whirlwind of power unleashed. It was not summoned, but came alive on its own, reacting to its master’s need. With a single incendiary burst, it flung John Ross’s attackers into the night. They flew from him as if they were paper cutouts, weightless in a high wind, and he was free once more. He lay gasping for breath in the aftermath, the magic gone as swiftly as it had appeared. In the darkness, his attackers climbed dazedly to their feet and stumbled away, their resolve shattered, their purpose forgotten, their confusion profound.

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.

N
est 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 followed. 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.