Dreams and Shadows Read online

  “What kind of book is a scripture?”

  “Like a Bible or a Torah,” she said.

  “So, words from the Bible?” asked Colby, as if that were too simple an answer.

  “Yes,” she said, concerned more with the swarming redcaps than answering his stupid questions.

  The redcaps clacked their talons together in unison. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack.

  “Oh,” said Colby, the redcaps slowly closing in. Then he spoke quietly to himself for a second, catching his breath as he did. “Bow down. Lightning. What . . . I, uh . . .” He tried desperately to find something deep within him—to dig out a memory, dust it off, and read it aloud. And then, like water bursting through a dam, it came. “Lord, bow down thy heavens and descend. Touch the mountains and they shall smoke.”

  He spoke confidently, from memory, as if reciting from a page. “Send forth lightning and thou shalt scatter them. Shoot out thy arrows, and thou shalt trouble them. Put forth thy hand from on high, take me out, and deliver me from many waters: from the hand of strange children . . . something something . . .”

  The redcaps recoiled in horror. They grabbed their ears to block out the sound, but their clawed hands only dug deep into their flesh, and, unable to muffle the verse, instead tore out chunks of their own faces. Each fell writhing to the ground, suffering from terrible seizures. But as Colby came to the end of what he could remember, the pain subsided and they looked up, raging, ready to tear him limb from bloody limb. Colby came to attention and began again from the beginning.

  “Lord, bow down thy heavens and descend. Touch the mountains and they shall smoke. Send forth lightning, and thou shalt scatter them. Shoot out thy arrows, and thou shalt trouble them. Put forth thy hand from on high, take me out, and deliver me from many waters. From the hand of strange children!”

  He was yelling now, driving the redcaps backward as they scrambled away from the sound, iron boots kicking divots in the earth as they fled. “Lord! Bow down thy heavens and descend! Touch the mountains and they shall smoke! Send forth lightning! And thou shalt scatter them! Shoot out thy arrows! And thou shalt trouble them! Put forth thy hand from on high! Take me out! And deliver me from many waters! From the hand of strange children!”

  The redcaps could not bear it any longer. Their insides were boiling, bubbling up, forming blisters on the surface of their skin. A few of them tore out their own beards, tangles of wiry, white hair coming out—root and all—with bloody patches of skin, meat dangling off the ends. Others pounded their skulls with clenched fists, trying to dull one pain by replacing it with another. One by one, they each stumbled back to their feet and ran away, screaming to block out the sound; any longer in the presence of these words and they would incinerate in place, leaving only a pile of ashes in their iron boots. Better to flee in terror than meet a fiery end.

  Dietrich stayed the longest, kneeling stoically before a now screaming Colby, defiantly waiting for him to stumble over the scripture, turn to run away, or finally run out of breath. But he didn’t. Colby stood firm in his resolve, repeating the verses over and over again like a broken record, the words beginning to lose meaning, the repetition becoming a blur of syllables.

  Dietrich stood up on wobbly legs, teetering like a dying dandelion waving in the wind, ready to burst in the face of a single strong gust. His skin was bubbling, his blisters popping, the sores were oozing pus. He snarled a low, dull, angry growl against the pain; he was a dog on a taut leash, pulling, tugging, waiting rabidly for that leash to snap. There was nothing he wanted more than to kill Colby where he stood, but even he had his limits.

  His eyes swollen with blood, his face dripping, he screamed at the top of his lungs and turned to run, joining his friends in their flight. Colby was left standing alone, his friends staring at him, amazed by what they’d just seen.

  “Wow!” screamed Ewan. “That was . . . that was . . .”

  “That was incredible, Colby,” finished Mallaidh. She walked over and kissed him on the cheek. “Our hero.”

  “Hey!” protested Ewan.

  “Oh shut up.” She shrugged, furrowing her brow and frowning at Ewan playfully. “You’ll always be my hero.”

  “Well, I—”

  Then from out of the woods it leapt, a quick, brutal shadow pouncing upon Ewan. Steel glinted in one hand as the other grabbed him by the collar, throwing him to the ground.

  “Ewan!” screamed Mallaidh.

  It was Knocks. He quickly mounted Ewan and swung the knife down. Ewan flinched, pulling his shoulder away just in time for the blade to sink into the earth beside him. Bucking, Ewan tried to break free, but Knocks was stronger.

  Knocks brought the knife up again.

  “You killed my mother!” he screamed.

  Then he crumpled from the blow of a quick kick to the back of the head, tumbling forward into the dirt.

  “You get off of him!” shouted Colby.

  Colby kicked him again. Knocks gripped his knife tightly but Colby slammed his foot down hard on his hand, crushing it. The changeling screamed. Then it was Colby who mounted Knocks, pounding him in the face.

  “You! Will! Not! Hurt! My! Friend!”

  Colby was a beast unleashed, wailing, a relentless fury on the small boy beneath him. Blood poured out of Knocks’s nose, his crooked eye beginning to swell shut.

  A large hand reached in, grabbing Colby by the scruff of the neck and hoisting him up. Colby, still in a rage, swung furiously at the air in front of him.

  “Colby,” said Yashar. No answer. “Colby,” he said again. “Colby!”

  Colby swung his last, futile punch, dangling two feet in the air, grimacing at Yashar, still spinning in his grip. Yashar glared back at Colby. Slowly the look of defiance eroded, Colby shrinking away from Yashar’s withering stare. “I’m sorry,” he mewled. Then he pointed an accusatory finger at Knocks. “He hurt Ewan.”

  Knocks leapt to his feet, leaving the knife behind, wordlessly vanishing into the woods.

  Colby reached after him, yelling, “Hey!”

  “Leave him,” said Yashar. “We have greater concerns than him.” Yashar set Colby back down on the ground. “I don’t know what you were thinking.”

  “I told you. He was trying to kill Ewan.”

  “No, I mean what you two were thinking leaving camp.”

  Colby’s eyes welled up with fearful tears. “I . . . I . . . I just wanted to play with Ewan before I had to go.”

  “And who told you that you had to go?” Colby looked past Yashar at Coyote, who was standing in just enough moonlight to be seen. Yashar made a slight quarter turn, looking back over his shoulder.

  Coyote nodded. “The council doesn’t want him interfering with the Tithe Child. Who else would they send?”

  Yashar shrugged. He knew better than to bother trusting Coyote.

  “What’s a Tithe Child?” asked Colby

  “I am,” said Ewan. “It’s what they call me when they think I’m not around.”

  Yashar shot a troubled glance at Coyote, who only smiled in return. This was going from bad to worse. “We have to go,” said Yashar with a hint of urgency.

  “But I don’t wanna go!” Colby whined.

  “We have to go.”

  “But I don’t wanna!”

  “Colby. Stop being so childish.”

  “But I am a child!”

  “Be a big boy,” Yashar scolded. “I need you to be a big boy for me. Can you do that?”

  Colby began to cry. He didn’t want to leave his new friend. He took Ewan’s hand in his and held it. “I wanna stay. I’ll eat some fairy food and then they have to let me stay.”

  “Colby!” Yashar got down on one knee, putting both hands on his shoulders, looking him directly in the eye. “We are not welcome here and bad things are about to happen if we stay. We have been asked to leave and they are
being very polite right now. But if we are still here after the sun comes up, there will be a very different attitude to our presence. Do you understand?”

  “But I wanna stay with Ewan,” he said, his eyes swollen and overflowing with tears. “He saved my life from evil Ewan and the redcaps.”

  “Do you want another wish?” asked Yashar plainly.

  “What?” asked Colby, wiping tears away from his cheeks with the back of his hand. He snorted a crying hiccup, a snot bubble erupting out of one of his nostrils.

  “If you come with me now, you can have another wish. Any wish you want as long as it doesn’t involve staying here.” Yashar was getting desperate. He wasn’t exaggerating; he was terrified of what would happen if the council were to unleash the unseelie fairies upon them both.

  “Really?” asked Colby. “Another wish?”

  “Yes, really,” said Yashar.

  “Anything?”

  Yashar narrowed his eyes. “Anything but staying here or taking Ewan with us, yes.”

  “Promise?”

  Yashar hesitated, but he was running out of time. “Yes. I promise.”

  “I need to get my things,” said Colby. Without a word Yashar reached into his robes, pulling from them Colby’s backpack. He gave Colby a telling look. It was time to leave. “Okay,” he said. With that, he turned to Ewan, put out his hand, and said, “It was nice meeting you.” Ewan looked down at his hand, still unsure of what to do with it. Colby awkwardly turned the outstretched hand into a wave, saying, “We’ll work on that next time.”

  Ewan nodded with a confused grin. “Will you come back to visit me?”

  “Yeah!” said Colby. “Of course I will.” Colby leaned forward to hug Ewan. This Ewan understood, throwing his arms around him in return. Their embrace was firm, as if they were sealing some pact of brotherhood.

  “Good, because I’ve never had a human friend before.”

  Colby thought about that for a moment. “Neither have I.”

  “Next time I’ll take you out to the Great Stage and we’ll have a hunt together.”

  “Cool!” Colby said, unsure of exactly what that meant. “I can’t wait.” He wiped the last of the tears from his cheeks. He needed to be a big boy in front of his friend.

  Yashar put his hand on Colby’s shoulder. “It’s time.”

  “Bye, Ewan.”

  “Bye, Colby.”

  Together, Colby and Yashar turned and began their long walk out of the Limestone Kingdom. At this, Coyote grinned, sliding slowly backward, vanishing into the trees. Only Ewan and Mallaidh remained in the woods. Together they watched as Colby and Yashar walked briskly away.

  “Be sure to come back, Colby,” shouted Ewan, waving an arm in the air. “Come play with us!”

  “Yeah, Colby,” said Mallaidh. “Come back!”

  Colby turned around and shouted. “Bye, guys!”

  “Bye, Colby!” the two shouted simultaneously.

  Neither was sure of what to say or do next. So Mallaidh did the only logical thing. She leaned in, kissed Ewan on the cheek, and said, “You’re it,” then sprinted off into a field of tall grass glistening in a mix of morning dew and moonlight.

  Ewan hesitated for a second, looked longingly into the distance at his departing friend, then turned and ran into the grass, tickling the field with the patter of young feet and giggles.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  THE DAMNING OF COLBY STEVENS

  Yashar and Colby walked in relative silence. Every once in a while Colby spoke up, Yashar immediately shushing him, knowing full well that they were still subject to the prying eyes and ears of Meinrad. Afraid of the questions Colby might ask, he thought it best to wait until they were fully out of the wildwood to open up. But as soon as they crossed the threshold and Colby’s senses returned to normal, Yashar looked down, putting a hand on Colby’s shoulder, and let out a relaxed sigh.

  “That wasn’t okay, what you did,” he said.

  Colby stared sheepishly at Yashar. “Which part?”

  “All of it. But mostly the part where you beat the crap out of that kid.”

  “But he—”

  “But he nothing. You lost your temper. Remember the talk we had about monsters?”

  “The ones inside of us?”

  “Yes,” said Yashar, tapping Colby on the chest. “The monsters in here. That was your monster. And I never want to see it again.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Yashar smiled. “It’s all right. As long as you’re really sorry.”

  “I am! I am!”

  “Good. Now, where ever did you learn that Bible verse?”

  “Sunday school,” answered Colby. “They made us memorize one, so I picked the cool one where God makes volcanoes and the weird kids throw lightning and arrows at people.”

  Yashar laughed. “That you did.” He shook his head and smiled. “You are an amazing child, you know that, Colby Stevens?”

  Colby smiled proudly. “You think I’m more special than a Tithe Child?”

  Yashar’s smile fell. He dreaded what was coming next.

  “Yashar, what’s a tithe?”

  He sighed deeply. This was going to be a long day.

  Yashar sat upon a fallen log, its trunk large and round, its wood not yet rotten. He patted a spot beside him in a familiar fashion, inviting Colby up onto the log. “Some things in this world are truly awful,” he began. He then explained the nature of the tithe.

  Colby listened to Yashar’s story, trying to memorize the history of it before the searing realization burned away any sense of childish wonder. “Are they going to kill Ewan?”

  Yashar nodded, unable to answer. He swallowed hard.

  “NO!”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

  “No! No! No!” Colby screamed, jumping off the log, stomping the dirt in an angry circle. “We have to go back!”

  “No, that’s out of the question.”

  “We have to go back! I won’t let him die.”

  “I’m afraid that’s what he was raised for, Colby. It is his purpose.”

  “They can sacrifice someone else! They can have one of those smelly redcaps. They can take any of them they want, but not Ewan. He saved my life. He’s going to be a good fairy. Not a bad one. He said so.”

  “Colby.”

  “He said so! He said he’s going to become a fairy and have a big-boy responsibility. That means he can’t die! I have to be able to go see him. He promised. We’re going to hunt together.”

  “No. You’re not.”

  “Yes I am!” The tears had returned, his swollen eyes bursting forth tears even stronger and more forcefully than before. His cheeks were growing redder by the second, his nose slowly pouring a snot mustache onto his face. He was bitter. He was heartbroken. He was confused. But worst of all, he still had one wish remaining. “We have to save Ewan.”

  “We can’t. I am forbidden to interfere.”

  “I wish we could save Ewan.”

  “It doesn’t work that way, Colby. I don’t have that kind of power.”

  “You’re a djinn.”

  “Yes, I am. And as such, my power only comes from what people wish of me. You can wish me to save Ewan all you want, but fairy magics and pacts prevent me from doing so. They are equally as powerful as I—perhaps even more so—when there are this many of them. I am but one; they are many. They would kill me. They would kill us both.”

  “Then I’ll do it.”

  “Colby, you can’t.”

  “Yes I can. I will just go and get him.”

  “Colby they will kill you. Do you understand that? These are not nice creatures. They can be kind and gentle and fun when they want to be, but this is about their survival. And there is nothing in this world that will lie down and die for another creature. They will
fight you, and you have no defense against them.”

  “I would if I were a wizard,” said Colby pointedly.

  “Yes,” Yashar laughed. “But you are not a wizard.”

  “You can make me a wizard.” The cold logic in Colby’s voice was ominous. Frightening. He wasn’t kidding.

  “No, I won’t,” protested Yashar. “That’s out of the question.”

  “Yes, you will. You promised.”

  “I did no such thing. I never promised to make you a wizard.”

  “Anything but stay here,” Colby repeated. “I asked if you promised and you said anything I wished for as long as it didn’t involve staying here or taking Ewan with us.”

  “But that’s what you’re asking. To take Ewan with us.”

  “But that’s not what I’m wishing for. I’m wishing for you to make me a wizard.”

  “I can’t just make you a wizard.”

  Colby bravely wiped tears away from his cheeks. “I wish I were a wizard.”

  “No.”

  Colby shook his head, his eyes steely in their resolve. He would not budge. “I wish. I were. A wizard,” he said sharply. “You promised.”

  Yashar attempted to protest, but found that he could not. He knew this was a bad idea; he knew that life would never be the same for Colby Stevens after this moment. But there was nothing he could do; it was out of his hands now. He had promised. “You’re sure this is what you want?”

  Colby nodded. He had never been more certain of anything in his life.

  Yashar stood up from the log and knelt beside Colby. He placed a single, meaty hand on Colby’s forehead, palming his skull like a basketball, whispering incantations in ancient languages. He leaned in close, putting his mouth next to Colby’s ear, and began to explain the secrets of the universe. In that moment, everything that was young and still innocent about the boy Colby Stevens was drained away, replaced by a newfound confidence and understanding. Colby creased his brow, listening closely, not understanding every word.

  “Really?” asked Colby “That’s all it takes to be a wizard?”

  Yashar nodded. “More or less, yes.”

  “That’s easy!”