Terry Brooks - A Knight of the Word

She stepped quickly from view as his companions gathered around him, kneeling to see what had happened. It surprised her how quickly she was able to regain her use of a skill she had not tested for so long. But calling on it had an unexpected side effect. It had awakened something else inside of her, something much larger and more dangerous. She felt it stir and then rise, growing large and ferocious, and for a terrifying moment she Felt as if it might get away from her completely.

Then she recovered herself, al1 in an instant, and turned back to face Ross. He hadn't moved. He was standing where she had left him, a puzzled look on his face. He had seen something that had escaped her, and whatever it was, it had left him confused and momentarily distracted.

She did not wait for him to recover. She went to him immediately, crossed the open space between them and came right up to where he stood, aswirl in his magic, enfolded by the staff's power, the rage and fierce determination returning to his eyes as he recovered his purpose.

'No, John; she said again, quickly, firmly, taking hold of his arms, ignoring the feel of the magic as it played across her skin. She was not afraid. There was no place for her fear in what he required of her. Her eyes met his and she held him bound. 'You've been tricked, John. We've all been tricked'

`Nest' he whispered, but there was no force behind the speaking of her name, only a vague sort of plea.

`I Know' she replied softly, meaning it without understanding how exactly„ knowing mostly that he needed to feel it was true. `But it isn't him, John. It isn't Simon. He isn't the demon'

And then she told him who was.

So now, with his memory of the dream that had started it all fading like autumn colour, John Ross began to cross the shadowed cobblestone expanse of Occidental Park in Pioneer Square, his topcoat pulled close about his battered, bloodied torso, a wraith come down out of Purgatory to find the demon who had sentenced him to Hell. The night air was cold and sharp with the smell of winter's coming, and he breathed in the icy scents. Wooden totems loomed overhead as he passed beneath their watchful, fierce gaze, and the homeless who scurried to get out of his way cast apprehensive glances over their shoulders, wary of the silver glow that emanated in a faint sheen from the long black staff that supported him. On the hard surface of the cobblestones, the butt end of the staff clicked softly to mark his progress, and a sudden rush of wind blew debris in a ragged scuttle from his path. The feeders who had gathered at his return trailed silently in his wake, eyes watchful, movements quick and furtive. He could sense their anticipation and their hunger for what lay ahead.

He was a Knight of the Word once more, now and forever, bound by the pledge he had given in persuading the magic to return to him. He was become anew what he had sought so hard to escape, and in his recognition and acceptance of the futility of his efforts he found a kind of solace. It was the home he had looked for and not found in his other life. It was the reality of his existence he had sought to deny. In his renunciation of the Word, he had lost his way, been deceived, and very nearly given himself over to a fate that even on brief reflection made his skin crawl.

But all that was past. All of who he had been and sought to be in these last twelve months was past His life, the only life he would ever have now,, he supposed, was given back to him, and he must find a way to atone for casting it aside so recklessly.

Even if it meant giving it up again as payment for the cost of setting things right.

Street lamps burned with fierce bright centres through the Halloween gloom. All masks were off, all secrets revealed, the trickery finished. By dawn, there would be an accounting and a retribution and perhaps his own death. It would depend on how much of himself he had rescued, how much of the warrior he had been he could summon anew.

He looked ahead to the lights of his apartment, and beyond to the smoking ruins of Fresh Start and the mostly darkened bulk of Pass/Go. The buildings lined the corridor of Main Street, safeholds hiding the secrets of the people within. Ross experienced a sense of futility, in thinking of the disguises that obscured the truths in human existence. It was so easy to become lost in the smug certainty that what happened to others really mattered very little to you. It was so easy to ignore the ties that bound humanity on its collective journey in search of grace.

A solitary car passed down the broad corridor of Second Avenue and disappeared. In the distance rose voices and music, laughter and shouts, the sounds, of celebration on All Hallows' Eve. For those people, at least, the dark side of witchery and demons was only a myth.

He passed Waterfall Park, the rush of the waterfall a muffled whoosh in the dark confines of the park's walls, the courtyard a vaguely defined spiderweb of wrought–iron tables, chairs, and trellises amid the blockier forms of the stone fountains and sculptures. He turned on hearing his name called, looking back the way he had come. Nest Ereemark was running toward him, her unzipped parka flying out behind her, her curly hair jouncing about her round, flushed face. Feeders melted array into the darkness at her approach, into the rocks of the park, into the tangle of tables and chairs, but she seemed heedless of them. She came up to Ross in a rush and stood panting before him, eyes quickly

searching his own.

`I came to help,' she said.

He smiled at her earnest expression, at the determination he

found in her young voice. `No, Nest' he told her quietly.

`But I want to. I need to'

He had left her behind at the museum when he had departed.

She had gone down the stairs to intercept Simon Lawrence and his

companions, to delay them long enough for Ross to slip out a side

door so he wouldn't be seen. Even so, in leaving another way

besides the main entrance he set off an alarm that brought security

guards from the lower level. As he crossed the street toward a dark

alleyway, he watched them stumble unaccountably in their efforts

to navigate the Grand Stairway, Nest studying them intently from

her position beside a recovering Simon.

`For Ariel,' she said firmly. `For Boot and Audrey'

He felt a rush of hot shame and anger, the revelations she had

provided burning through him in a fresh wave of shock and

disbelief. But truth has a way of making itself known even to the

most sceptical, and he had stripped away the blinders that had kept

him deceived and was empowered by his new knowledge and the

determination it generated.

`For myself, John,' she finished.

But she had not seen herself as he had, back at the museum, in

the shadowy confines of the Exhibition Hall, where the two of

them had come face–to–face in a confrontation that might have led

to the horrific fulfilment of his dream. She did not realise yet

what she had revealed to him that even she did not know, of the

way her magic had evolved, of the secret she now held inside.

Powerful forces were at work in Nest Freemark that would change

her life yet again. He should tell her, of course. But he could not

bring himself to do so now, when the secrets of his own life

weighed so heavily on his mind and demanded their own

resolution.

He stepped closer to her and put his hands on her shoulders.

`I am a Knight of the Word, Nest. I am what I was always meant to be, and I owe much of that to you. But I cannot claim the right to serve if I do not resolve first the reason I lost my way. I have to do that. And I have to do it alone. This is personal to me, so dose to the bone that to settle it in any other way would leave me hollowed out. Do you see?'

She studied his face a long time. `But you're hurt. You've lost a lot of blood'

He took his hands away from her shoulders and settled them on the polished length of his staff `The magic will give me the strength I need for this'

She shook her head. 'I don't like it. It's too dangerous'

He looked at her, thinking it odd that someone so young should speak to him of what was too dangerous. But then the dangers in her own life had been, on balance, no less than his.

`Wait for me here, Nest,' he told her. `Keep watch. If I don't came out, at least one other person will know the truth:

He didn't wait for her response but wheeled away quickly and went down the sidewalk to the corner, turned left along Second, and walked to the apartment entrance. Feeders reappeared in droves, creeping over the walls of Waterfall Park, taming up from the gutters and out of the alleyways between the buildings. They materialised in such numbers that he experienced an unexpected chill. Their yellow eyes were fixed an him, empty of everything but their hunger. So many, he mused, He could feel the weight of their expectations in the way they passed forward to be close to him, and he knew they understood with primal instinct what was at stake.

He entered the foyer, using his key, walked to the elevator, and took it up to the sixth floor. The Feeders did not follow. He imagined them scaling the outside wall, climbing steadily, relentlessly closer to the windows of his apartment, He envisioned an enormous tidal wave washing toward a sleeping town.

He exited the elevator, and moved to his apartment door, used his key again, and entered.

The apartment was shadowy: and silent, with only a single

lamp burning at one end of the old couch. Stefanie sat reading in the halo of its light, her exquisite face lifting to greet him, her strange, smoky eyes filling with shock as he closed the door and came into the light.

John, what happened?' she whispered, rising quickly.

He put out his hand, a defensive gesture, acid shook his head. Don't get up, Stef. Just stay where you are, please' He leaned heavily on his staff, studying her perplexed face, the way she brushed back her dark hair, cool and reserved, watchful. `Simon Lawrence isn't dead,' he said quietly.

He saw a flicker of something dark in her eyes, but her face never changed. `What do you mean? Why would he be dead? What are you talking about, John?'

He shrugged. `It's simple. I went to the museum to speak with him. He was waiting for me. He admitted everything - firing me without giving me a hearing, stealing the money himself, working to destroy Fresh Start, all of it. Then he attacked me. He overpowered me, threw me down, and walked away. When he left, I went after him. I wanted to kill him. I would have, too, except for Nest Freemark. She came back from the airport to warn me. It wasn't Simon Lawrence I was looking for at all, she said' He paused, watching her carefully. `It was you'

She shook her head slowly, a strange little smile playing over her lips. `I have no idea what you are talking about'

He nodded indulgently. She was so beautiful, but everything about her was a lie. `The fact of the matter is, I was ready to believe everything you wanted me to believe. That Simon Lawrence was the demon. That he was responsible for all the bad things happening. That he was intent on ruining my life, on using me, on breaking me down. I had convinced myself. Then, when you tricked me into coming upstairs at the museum, when you disguised yourself as Simon and attacked me, humiliated me, taunted me, and cast me aside as if I were worthless, I was primed and ready to kill him the moment I found him again. And I would have killed him, too, if not for Nest'

John-

'She told me it was you, Stef, and after I got past the initial shock that such a thing could possibly be, that I could have been fooled so completely, that I could have been so stupid, I began to realise what had happened. You were so clever, Stef. You used me right from the beginning. You let me approach you in Boston, played me like a fish an a line, and then reeled me in. I was hooked. I loved you. You made yourself so desirable and so accessible I couldn't help myself I wanted to believe you were the beginning, the cornerstone, of a new life. I was through being a Knight of the Word; I wanted something else. You understood what that something was better than I did, and you gave it to me. You gave me the promise of a life with you.