Children Without Faces, page 11
“Naw, we gotta talk to you,” Toby said, refusing to be intimidated. There wasn’t any heat behind the glare anyhow, not like Da could if he wanted. “We’ve been pokin’ around again, just like I said we would. I talked to Watcher Pommel, and then we went to the Thicket.” He paused, expecting a reaction, wanting just one glimmer of interest or life.
It didn’t come. “Dangerous, there.”
Toby groaned, dragged his hand through his hair, and glared at Dani who hung back behind the chair, just in the ring of light. “Da, I need your help, I truly do. We found stuff, big stuff. There are tunnels underneath Cold Harbor, right under our feet, ’n I think-
“Enough,” Da said, standing up, towering over Toby, his voice sharp and cold. “I won’t hear this, I can’t. I love you. You’re my son, Toby. You’ll do as I say.”
“Sir, it’s true,” Dani said, stepping forward, but Da stopped her with a glare.
“Get you gone, Daniella. I won’t say it again.”
“No!” Toby screamed, too angry to think, and he shoved Da hard in the gut, knocking him back in his chair. “You don’t tell her to go! She’s helping; she’s the only one that’s helping! Dem’s alone, and she’s the only one that cares, just me and her.”
“Don’t you raise your voice at —”
“At what?” Toby taunted, his face burning, eyes stinging. “A fat old man who can’t look for his own little boy? I don’t need you, not no more. I’ll live in the Thicket before I do!” He turned, ran past Dani, stumbling on a chair leg.
Someone shouted at him, called him back, but Toby didn’t stop. Rain trickled off of the roof, hitting his face with a sharp slap, carrying the taint of the forest’s kiss. The cobblestones were wet, and he slipped as he turned the corner.
The wind howled, and Toby screamed with it, as furious as it was and just as cold inside. Da wouldn’t help. It didn’t matter why; he wouldn’t.
Toby was all alone, just like Dem.
Something caught his foot and Toby pitched forward with a yelp, slamming into a wall. Pain snapped him around, and everything swam as he lay gasping on his back.
“Well, lookie here,” a harsh and ugly voice laughed. “A fish, all outta water. You need gutting, little fish?”
“Yes,” the deep voice said as a long slick blade glinted. “He truly does.”
14
The world swam around the knife, making Toby only vaguely aware that he knew the two men above him. Mole and Rat Ass, the thugs from the Inn. He wanted to demand what they were doing here, but they didn’t seem to be in the talking mood.
So he kicked instead. Rat Ass yelped as the sharp heel of Toby’s boot connected with his shin, hopping back a few paces. “Get ’im!”
Mole snarled, the large mole on his neck bobbing as he swallowed, and he swiped with the knife. Cold wind whistled as it passed, and pain blossomed in Toby’s arm where it nicked. He scrambled back on all fours, allowing his head to clear.
Trouble; he was in big trouble. The cobblestones beneath his hands were wet and slick, the tainted water biting into his flesh, stinging. Not as much as the knife wound, though.
“Leave me alone,” he demanded, getting up and backing away. “I didn’t do nothin’.”
The two men laughed, flanking him. Toby felt the rough side of a building against his back, trapping him. “Hear that? He don’t deserve sticking,” Rat Ass snickered, his ugly face twisting into a sneer.
“Whelps his age don’t know when they need killing,” Mole said reasonably, his large blade held out. “That’s why their betters do the thinking.”
“Boss wants you dead, kid. Should’ve listened. Go on, make ’im bleed.”
They laughed again, and Toby was about to try to make a run for it when a high scream made them all turn. Mole went down to the ground in a blur of thick skirts and flying hair. “Run, Toby!” Dani said, grunting as Mole elbowed her side and swiped with his knife.
Toby ignored her, slammed into Rat Ass instead, knocking his kick off. The man scrabbled at him, his long fingers tearing cloth as Toby yanked away. Stumbling back, Toby nearly tripped over Dani as she rolled clear of Mole.
“Run!” Dani grabbed his arm, yanked hard enough to send them both stumbling up the alley. They charged together into the night and the acidic rain stung his eyes, making it hard to see where he was going. The wind picked up, swirling it around them, making the road too slick to risk a look back.
Toby didn’t need to — he could hear the pounding footsteps gaining behind them.
“They’re gonna catch us,” he gasped, nearly going down as they ducked into another alleyway. The weather had cleared the streets, leaving them alone with the thugs.
“Go on, I’ll catch up,” Dani said, starting to turn, but Toby slammed into her and knocked her forward.
The impact made him grunt, teeth bared. “Like hell. We go together.”
Dani grinned back, teeth white and bright in the dim light, and her face turned toward him. Her brown eyes widened. “Down!”
He obeyed without thought, dropping just as a large barrel sailed over his head, swiping the air where he’d been. Mole emerged from the mist, face wrathful and dark, blade at the ready.
Toby didn’t think — he just charged. His shoulder caught the man between his legs, and he heard the clatter of the knife hit by his boot as Mole dropped with a squeak.
Just for good measure, Toby kicked him in the side, then darted away. Something grabbed his boot, brought him down again into the street.
“Gonna pay, brat,” Rat Ass rasped, his fingers sinking like claws into Toby’s calf.
Dani appeared, her fist lashing out and catching Rat Ass in the jaw. Toby flipped back to his belly, scrambled to his feet, and they again ran down the street. His chest ached and burned; his shoulder bled.
“We gotta hide, I can’t get much further,” he gasped, scrambling around another corner. The cliffs loomed ahead, the edge outlined by salty spray thrown in the air by the water hundreds of feet below.
“This way, here,” Dani said, and she pushed them both into a shed. The pungent stench of fish rose around them, threatening to make Toby gag. He clamped a hand over his mouth, determined not to retch and give them away. Holding his breath proved easier, and next to him, he heard Dani do the same.
Her body pressed against his, a barrel hiding them from the doorway’s entrance. Pounding boots came up the street and went past the shack without stopping. Neither of them moved for an age, the pounding blood in Toby’s ear threatening to give them away all on its own.
“I think they’re gone,” a new voice said behind them. Toby shrieked and lurched back, slamming into the barrel and knocking it and himself over. The ground squelched, thick with something cold and slimy; the fish smell grew stronger.
Light flared, illuminating the thick layer of fish scales and muck that Toby pressed into. Behind him, Dani giggled.
“Who were they?” the new boy asked, and Toby pushed himself up, looking over his shoulder. On second glance, it wasn’t a boy at all, but a young man. He was taller than Dani, which said something, though his limbs were long and wiry. His pants were decorated with a network of patches, though the material looked normal for the trousers — not colorful and patterned like Toby’s scraps. A dark mass of hair fell over his eyes, though it didn’t hide the clever gleam that shone in them.
“Trouble,” Dani said, leaning against the wall, her arms snugged across her chest. “Thanks for keeping quiet.”
“Didn’t know what else to do when two kids burst in here while I’m mending.” He gestured to a nearby stool that lay tangled in a large shredded fishing net. “Certainly didn’t want to have to clean up human blood as well, though I reckon it’d wash the same as fish.”
“Nah, stains more,” Dani said, lifting her chin. “I’m Dani — this here is Toby.”
“Yeah, I know you,” the youth said. “You’re Thatcher’s girl. I’m Kell Fisher.”
Toby stood, tried to brush himself off. His hands came away slick with slime instead, making him groan. He didn’t even have anywhere clean to wipe his hands, now.
“Toby, you’re bleeding,” Dani said, coming over and touching his arm gingerly. Pain flashed where her fingers touched, and he yanked away.
“Leave off, I’m fine,” he snapped, resisting the urge to clamp his hand over the offending spot.
“Chased by two strange men, bleeding from what looks to be a knife wound — you two must have a good story,” Kell said, head tilting to the side, birdlike in manner.
“Don’t mind us, just getting near killed again,” Toby said, trying not to whine. “Look, you seen my little brother ’round? Dem — small, his pants have more patches than mine, looks like me?”
“Can’t say I have,” Kell said, then snapped his fingers. “That’s right. He went missing few nights back, didn’t he? Watchers were thick as fleas trying to find him. No luck, yet?”
“None,” Toby said flatly, shaking his head.
“We’d best be going,” Dani said, smiling politely and edging toward the exit.
“You could, I suppose,” Kell said, sitting back down on the stool and picking up the nets again. “Or, you could stay a tick ’n chat. I don’t have anything better to do while my hands are busy, and you two look like you know a tale.”
Toby snorted and shot him a glare. “We don’t got time to sit around ’n talk. Not unless you know tons of stuff about demons.”
“I don’t,” Kell said without a moment’s hesitation. “But my Gram does. Be nice and I’ll take you to talk to her.”
15
Gram was the oldest woman Toby had ever seen. Her wrinkles had wrinkles, and hair the yellow-white of ocean foam tumbled down her shoulders. Deep-set brown eyes peered at him, and Toby shifted uncomfortably, feeling as if that gaze could see through him.
“Go on, then,” Kell said from his safe spot by the doorway. “Tell her what you want.”
Toby gulped, then glanced up at Dani who stood frozen by his side. How he was supposed to do something that scared Dani baffled him, and he took a deep bracing breathe.
“I don’t have all day,” Gram said, her voice creaking. “You get my age, boy, and you treat each day like your last. When I stand at Afallon’s gates, I don’t mean to tell him that I spent my last staring at children who lost their wits, hear me?”
“Yes ma’am,” he said, flushing and wiping his hands off on his pants. The fire crackled near them, throwing its heat out, making Toby’s skin flush.
She peered at him, her thin-slash of a mouth tugging into a frown. “Weldon’s boy, eh? I knew your ma; good girl, even if she did have her head in the clouds. How’s your brother — Kedem, wasn’t it?”
The question broke him; what little strength Toby had fled, and he sagged forward, hands covering his face. Tears burned his eyes, worse than forest rain, and he couldn’t fight them back. “Gone,” he managed to gasp out between sobs, and then something pulled him forward.
Strong wiry arms wrapped around his shoulders, and something stroked his hair, which only brought more tears. It was his fault, all his fault. He’d sent Dem down to the cellar to be grabbed, and he hadn’t believed him when he’d had the chance to.
“Easy now,” Gram crooned near to his ear, and Toby squirmed, pushing his face into her neck. She held him, let him cry, and he did.
The tears ran out, leaving him hiccuping and gasping, shuddering in the old woman’s arms. Reluctantly, he pulled away and swiped at his nose and face with a dirty sleeve, avoiding her eyes.
Behind him, he heard Dani shuffle awkwardly. “Laugh and I’ll bloody your nose,” he said, refusing to look at her.
“Like you could,” she said, and punched his shoulder lightly, like she thought he’d shatter again.
He sniffed and drew himself up, unable to meet Gram’s eyes; he could feel the smile in her words anyhow. “A good cry is nothing to be ashamed of,” she said, her bony hand wiping at his face for him. Her skin was cool and soft, like fawn-hide.
“Yes ma’am,” he said as respectfully as he could. “If you please, that’s not why we came to see you.”
“I doubt that; it’s just not the only reason you came to see me. Come now, tell old Gram what’s on your heart. Something to do with your brother, yes?” Her finger hooked under his chin and pulled his head up. Their eyes met, and Toby gulped, fighting the urge to cry tears he didn’t have.
It took all his strength to nod his head; he was too weak to look away. “We need to know about demons, ma’am. Please, do you know anything about them?”
“Demons, eh?” Gram looked over his head, and he heard Dani shuffle again. “Tell me, lass. Is it demons, or something more?”
“We don’t know,” Dani said, her voice soft and more meek than Toby had ever heard it. “A stranger from the outside has a demon riding a boy; we met him in Iustyn’s Hall. He wanted a ledger with notes about demons, so we assumed…”
“Ah, but that’s not all the ledger had in it, is it, Daniella?”
“No ma’am,” she said, and Toby jerked away from Gram to glare at her, ignoring how downcast she looked.
“What do you mean? What else was in there?”
Dani shrugged, and looked like she was trying not to squirm. “I was gonna tell you, Toby. There just hasn’t been time. In the back, Hand Travis had a whole parcel of his own notes. There was something about a sacrifice, and a spirit.”
Gram cackled softly. “Told him that story when he first came to town, I did. He was keen to know about Cold Harbor’s history; thought it’d make sense on some of the spiritual energies he felt.”
“And did it?” Toby asked, stepping back so he could keep an eye on both women at the same time.
“Perhaps,” Gram said, reaching to tug her shawl around her thin shoulders more.
“Will you tell it to us?” Dani asked, sitting down and folding her hands in her lap. A second later, she smacked Toby’s leg when he didn’t follow suit; he grunted and sank down, scowling. No one would ever take him seriously if he sat like a child!
Gram peered at them again, and must have found something that satisfied her, because she nodded and reached for a bundle of wool and her needles. “I will,” she said, and she wrapped wool around a needle. “Get you gone, Kell. You have mending to do.”
Kell sighed, and Toby heard him shuffle in the doorway. “Aww, Gram. That ain’t fair. I brought them.”
“And now you’ll leave them. This isn’t talk for your ears, not tonight. Give them peace, lad.”
He grunted and Toby glanced over his shoulder, catching a view of his broad shoulders ducking into the night.
“I didn’t mind him staying,” Dani said, quietly.
“Me neither,” Toby said, though he wasn’t sure he was being truthful. It felt strange, making his business that of so many strangers. Still, what choice did he have?
Gram seemed to read his mind, though it was at Dani that she smirked. “You leave such decisions to me. Now then, the story.” She settled into herself, and the needles started to clack together, steady and rhythmic, blending with the crackling of the fire in the hearth. The light flickered, casting long shadows in the small sitting room, and soon Gram’s voice was all Toby heard.
“There was once, and Iustyn knows this to be true, a town north of here called Seaside. It sat along the beach in a sheltered cove, its docks and piers able to stretch out into the ocean without fear of wind or wave. Trade came, for the waters were too shallow for the deep things to swim in, to consume the ships that carried goods. Its people were happy, and they lived in Iustyn’s light.
“They were ruled by a mayor by the name of Lammen, and he was a good man with a pretty wife and three children. All voted for him, for none walked in the light better than he; his rulings were always fair, and his door always open. And, though he needn’t work at anything other than mayoring, he loved to fish.
“It was this love that brought him low; he and his family sailed out one morning when a great wind stirred up the waters. The sky turned black as night, and Viyel’s wrath flashed in the sky. Though their skill was great, and though the whole town tried to save them, Lammen’s boat sank beneath the waves. Those on the shore could hear the screams until the waters took them down.”
Toby gulped as the story drew him in, and only Gram’s pause allowed him to breathe. He wanted to interrupt, to ask questions or demand if this were true, but he knew that doing so would be a great insult. She’d already invoked Iustyn’s name in the history’s telling; the god himself would strike her down if she lied.
Something touched his hand, making him flinch, but it was only Dani. She took it, and gave it a squeeze; he didn’t let go, especially since Gram took up her tale.
“Just as Lammen went into the waves, he came out again. As the sun rose, so he staggered out of the water, his skin as white and boated as a three-day corpse. His eyes burned with fire, and all celebrated his return from Afallon’s domain. Lammen once again took up his seat of power, but he had been changed by his stay beneath the waves. His rule became cruel and pitiless, his laws grew more and more oppressive.
“When it came time for elections, he called the guard forward to take the votes. Those who cast against him were cast themselves into the fire pit, and set aflame. Stories of his cruelty swiftly spread, of sacrifices of blood upon bone altars to dark powers. None dared stand against him, save for a few families that grew in number. One night, they stole away and ran south. Here, hidden along the hostile cliffs, our ancestors began Cold Harbor, and built its walls in defense against the darkness that would surely give chase.
“Lammen did not disappoint. He came and lay siege to the fledgling town, determined to grind their rebellion into dust. He stretched out his hand and called darkness and fire to fall, wielding the power that only the Pit can give. Men’s blood boiled in their veins, and they cried for death’s release that would not come.”
Gram’s voice lowered, and Toby leaned forward, hanging on her every word. “One within Cold Harbor, driven mad by the dark one’s power, fled down into the stone. He took steel to flesh, he gave blood to water, and he called to Lammen. A monument rose from the cliff itself, and this betrayal allowed the gate to finally break.
