By These Ten Bones (13 page)

That morning, Paul went with Maddie to Mass and watched soberly as she prayed. “Madeleine,” he said afterward, “I told your ma and dad that I'm going to sell carvings to the new lord. I won't see you again.”

It's time, thought Maddie with a shiver. Time to keep my promise.

“Paul,” she said slowly, “I know how you can be cured.”

The young carver stared at her in astonishment. “Don't,” he demanded, upset.

“No, it's true,” she replied. “I learned how from Ned. There's a creature living with you that makes you change, and I know how to drive it away.”

Paul looked around, the mask of caution and worry back on his face. “That can't be true,” he stated. “You'd have told me by now, and you'd be happier about it. There's no cure for what I am.”

“I couldn't tell you before,” she said in a low voice. “It's—it's hard to do, that's all. But not hard for you. All you do is change one more time.”

“What do you do that's hard?” he asked. “I want to know about it.”

“I can't tell you,” said Maddie. “It has to be a secret.”

The young man had been calm and composed, ready to die. Now all his plans were for nothing. “I don't want to change again,” he protested angrily. “I want to be done with this.”

“You will be,” she promised. “You'll be cured, you really will. Just one more time, Paul. Please.”

He frowned at her, unhappy and uneasy. “All right,” he muttered. “But this is the last time. And it's not how I want it.”

Maddie gave him a little smile. “You'll see,” she said. “It's better than your way. I'll meet you tomorrow by the rotten stump.” She watched as he walked out of town.

Kneeling on the stone step of the confessional next morning, Maddie tried to collect her thoughts. Be prepared for death, Father Mac had told her, and she had intended to. She wanted to make a really good confession of her sins so that her mind could be at peace as she died, but her mind was wandering dreadfully, and she couldn't remember what she had planned to say. There had been the time when her mother had been tired and she hadn't carried the baskets for her. How she regretted that now! And the time when her father had been discouraged and she hadn't bothered to smile at him. If only she could go back and do it! If only it weren't too late.

Maddie ranged sadly over these odd little omissions and faults of long ago, and on the other side of the curtain, Father Mac's astonishment grew. He had never heard such a confession from her before. At length she ran out of regretful memories, and he gave her absolution. She rose, about to go say her penance, but then she turned back to the priest. Second Sight or no Second Sight, she shouldn't trust a dream. It would be better to make sure.

“Father, I was wondering,” she said slowly. “If a fellow went and got himself killed—not that he died by his own hand, mind, and not that he wanted to die, but to save the life of other people—that wouldn't be suicide, would it?”

“No, it wouldn't,” came the cautious answer. “A suicide dies because he doesn't want his life anymore. But if that person truly wanted to live and would live if he only could, then his death would be like a warrior's death, a sacrifice for others.”

“Good,” she said. “This person is like that.” She started to turn away, but the priest blocked her path, his face a study of puzzlement and concern.

“I'm worried about you lately, young Madeleine,” he declared. “I'm worried about you now. What do you say about that?”

“I'm sorry if you're worried,” Maddie replied politely. “It's my ma who'll be worried next if I'm not back home soon.” And she left the priest to his thoughts.

But Maddie couldn't bear to spend her last day with her mother. Instead, she visited Bess and helped her tired aunt with the children. Will they miss me? she wondered sadly. Probably the little ones won't even remember their cousin Maddie.

“Bess, I have to go somewhere,” she said as they milked the sheep. “But don't tell anyone. Just say I went home.”

Bess had tried in vain to awaken her cousin's high spirits. She looked at her now with a thoughtful frown.

“And when will you be coming back?” she demanded.

“I don't know,” Maddie answered. “Don't bother looking for me this evening.”

“I know what you're doing,” announced Bess with confidence. “You're running away with that carver boy.”

“I am not!” gasped Maddie, caught completely off-guard. “Bess, how could you say such a thing!”

“Oh, yes, you are, and I don't blame you a bit,” replied her cousin cheerfully. “I'd run off with him, too, he's that good-looking.”

Upset and irritated, Maddie hurried through the gloomy afternoon. Paul met her at the rotten stump, and they raced down the path to beat the moonrise. There was no time and no breath for talking.

Inside the cave, Paul retrieved his lighted lantern and led the way to the chain and collar. He buckled it around his neck as she sat down to catch her breath.

“I know what you're going to do,” he announced.

Maddie stared at him in the speckled light from the pierced lantern sides. “You do?” she exclaimed in amazement.

“You're going to wait until I'm changed, and then you're going to call the men to kill me,” he said. “That way I don't have to kill myself. I'm glad. I didn't mind doing it, but they say suicides never find peace for their souls. I'd like a little peace now, I think.”

Maddie moved the lantern so that the open side faced him and the candlelight shone out onto him. He was so handsome and courageous, facing death to keep her safe. For the first time, she thought about how he would feel when he woke up and found her dead.

“Paul, I'm doing the right thing,” she told him. Tears came to her eyes. “I know things, Second Sight things. This is the only way. It's like Father Mac says, this life's just a test. We have to look beyond the grave.”

“I know,” he said, and he smiled at her. A lump rose in her throat.

“You—you have to not mind,” she insisted as the tears ran down her cheeks.

“I don't mind. Don't cry,” he said. “Good-bye, Madeleine.”

“Good-bye, Paul,” she whispered. She turned away so she wouldn't see him change. After a minute, she heard the chain begin to rattle as he paced.

“Come here,” he demanded sharply. “Come
here
!” And she knew that Paul was gone.

Maddie took off her blanket, folding its length carefully. There was no need for it to be ruined. Then there was the problem of the lantern. She wanted to blow it out so she wouldn't see anything, but Paul would need it later, after the cure. She closed the little shutter as far as she could and turned its bright face to the wall.

“Come
here
!
Come here!
” Now the voice was rough and thick. She heard the metal clashing of those terrible knifelike claws.

“I'm coming,” she replied, turning to face it.

Dimming the light hadn't done her much good. She couldn't see its outline in the blackness of the cave, but those huge green eyes with their tiny dots of pupils gleamed down at her. It hissed and bubbled, and the great eyes blinked. “
Liar!
” it spat.

Maddie's stomach flopped and tingled as if it were full of frogs. “I'm not lying,” she asserted as boldly as she could. “I'm going to let you kill me.”

The creature stirred and paced in the shadows, clashing its claws. Those round green eyes never left her face.

“They
all
let me kill them,” it sneered in a bubbling purr. “They always run so
slowly
.”

Maddie felt the cave start to spin, and she staggered back a step. She closed her eyes and remembered why she was there.

“Nasty
worm
,” it slavered. “
Worse
than a worm! Worms are soft and sweet, but you're full of crunchy hard
knobs
.”

“Shut your face!” she screeched. “Or I won't do it.” She knelt down and pressed her shaking hands together to pray. No words came, but a little glow of courage warmed her heart. She felt for the sprig of clover. She tried to stand up again, but her legs were like blocks. Maybe she could just crawl.

“You
won't
do it,” snarled the creature. “You'd never
dare
to do it. Three steps, that's all, just
three steps
. I'm so
hungry
!” Its voice rose into a whine. “But
you
won't do it!” It flung itself angrily to and fro. “Smelly little
liar
!”

She had lied, Maddie realized, shivering all over. She couldn't possibly go up to it. She thought of Paul's corpse stalking the town, of the bones of her parents and neighbors. I will fight with you, the angel had said. She looked for another way.

“If you'll stay at the end of your chain,” she faltered, “I'll come to that corner by you. I—I promise I will. But you have to look away. Look away—and count to fifty.” She wasn't thinking very well. “Or do you—can you count?”

“I could count the stars in the
sky
,” it boasted. “I could count the sand in the
desert
. I've counted every spurt of blood through your heart since the day that you were born.
Waiting
.
Waiting
for my
chance
.”

The dark cave was spinning and spinning. Maddie put her hand on the rough wall. “Count fifty more,” she gasped, “and you'll have your chance.” Still those eyes shone down unmoving. Maddie roused herself with an effort. “I thought you were hungry,” she whispered.

The huge form shuffled sideways down the length of the chain, and the green eyes vanished.

Remember Paul, Maddie told herself, licking her lips. Remember Ma and Dad. Crawl forward. Crawl to the chain. Then it will all be over. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and crawled along, her shoulder brushing the wall. Time passed, and she came to the bend of the cave. The wall curved before her into a rough corner, and she curled up into it. She was panting for breath, and sweat was dripping onto her hands and into her eyes. She heard the links rattling above her, and a scraping, grating noise.

“
You can't get away
,” announced that thick voice. “
Now you're going to die
.” Maddie didn't answer. Her mouth was as dry as dirt.

“I've never seen
anything
like it,” it bubbled. “You can't
wait
to be
eaten
.” It laughed, hideous and slavering. “You must be
mad
.”

Curled up tight, she felt it coming nearer, felt the cold chain coil across her body. “You little
fool
,” it gloated in her ear, so close that she felt numb from the icy chill it gave off. “You're
mad
, that's what you are! You're
mad
! You're—
MADELEINE
!”

A scream tore from the monster, right over her head. One scream after another, long, high wails of evil and anguish. Far away in the night, the townspeople heard those screams and froze in terror. In the closeness of that black cave, they were heart-stopping.

The chain sang, snapping taut and loosening as the creature writhed in the darkness. The air was full of the clashing of its claws and the scrabbling of its huge body. Still it screamed and snarled and cursed, now to one side of her and now to the other. Stones crashed and slammed into the walls and ceiling. Their battering report echoed down the passages.

Maddie, pressed as tightly as she could be into the corner, sank closer to the ground. She was only dimly aware of the thrashing form. The one thing approaching a thought in her mind was a feeling of hurt disapproval. She had hoped that it would all be over by now.

Slowly the screams died down into long wails and then into moans. The clashing quieted, the churning ceased, and the moans became sobs. The chain loosened above her once more as the figure crawled forward and flung a sweat-drenched hand across her huddled body.

But Maddie didn't feel it. She didn't feel anything. Her mind had escaped the gloom of the cave into a deeper darkness.

Maddie opened her eyes to find her mother looking down at her.

“I had such a dream, Ma,” she said. Then she glanced around in surprise. She was at home in bed. She sat up, shaky and queasy. The settle by the door was empty. “Where's Paul?” she wondered.

“You're awake to stay this time?” her mother wanted to know, and Maddie could see that she'd been crying. “Jamie, she's awake,” she called, and Maddie's father came over. He knelt down by the bed, and Fair Sarah sat down on a stool, and they both looked at her, their faces grave.

“Where's Paul?” she asked them again.

“Maddie, tell us what this is all about,” said James Weaver seriously.

“What do you mean?” she asked. “What what's about? Where's Paul?”

“Father Mac came here last evening,” replied her father, “and when he saw you weren't home, he was very concerned. We went to Colin the Smith's house, but you weren't there either, and Bess said you had run away with Paul. It was black night by then, and we could hear that creature on the loose. I was afraid we'd never find you alive. God knows how he knew, but Father Mac had an idea you'd be at the Cave of the Arrows, and we found you and Paul there together.”

“Black night, and you found Paul? Really Paul?” asked Maddie slowly. She looked at their troubled faces, and her heart stopped in her breast. “He's dead!” she shrieked. “Paul's dead! Oh, no!” She burst into loud tears.

“Maddie, saints above!” cried James Weaver, startled. “What sort of dad do you think I am? Of course I didn't kill the boy.” He patted her heaving shoulders awkwardly. “There, there, calm down. Paul isn't dead. I just want you to tell me what you were doing, that's all.”

“But he isn't dead, truly?” sobbed Maddie, unable to sort this through. “It was full night, and full moon, and he was Paul, and not dead?” She paused, bewildered. “And I'm not dead, either?”

“Maddie, no one's dead,” replied her father patiently. “No one that we know of, anyway. Paul met us in the cave passage, struggling along with you, and I'm bound to say he was just as senseless as you are. He kept crying out to look for a bite, were you bitten—spider, snake, or dog, we never could find out. Then we got outside the cave and he just stood and stared at the moon, and not another useful word did we hear all the way home. He couldn't be trusted not to walk right into the water. Father Mac had to lead him by the hand. Your mother searched for that bite, but she didn't find anything, only that you'd fallen into a faint.”

“So Paul's not dead.” Maddie sobbed more quietly, calming down. “And I'm not dead, either,” she remarked with some surprise. She looked at their worried faces again. “Then what's the matter?” she asked.

“What's the matter? You ran off!” exclaimed her father, exasperated beyond all patience. “Maddie, how on earth could you do such a thing and then ask us what's the matter?”

Good sense began to return. Maddie considered this statement carefully. All in all, she could see their point.

“But we didn't run off,” she protested. “That was Bess's own notion, and I told her before I left what I thought of it.”

“Then what did you do?” asked the weaver.

“Didn't Paul tell you?” asked Maddie. Her father shook his head.

“Only that he never meant to harm you,” he said. “That he'd have died before he'd have let it happen, whatever that means. Maybe he's telling Father Mac. They're together in his cottage. Let what happen? That's what I want to know.”

Maddie took a deep breath and thought things over. The last three months had given her lots of practice in lying, but she didn't want to lie. On the other hand, looking at their worried faces, she didn't want to tell them the truth.

“Paul and I went hunting for that thing that killed Black Ewan,” she told them. “I'd been to the cave, and so had Father Mac, because that's where I found Paul when he collapsed with the fever. I remembered seeing something strange there.” She paused for breath, and inspiration struck. “The cave opening had been widened by something, as if a big animal was inside. There were chunks of rock lying all around. After Black Ewan got killed, I fell to thinking about it, and I told Paul I meant to go inside. He thought I was being silly, but he agreed to go along.

“We did see something in the cave—a shape or a shadow, I don't know. We heard it screaming right by us. I thought we were both of us dead, and I fainted. Paul must have thought the same.”

James Weaver and Fair Sarah glanced at each other, puzzled and questioning. It sounded very unlikely, but, then again, nothing else seemed any more likely.

“Maddie, this is the stupidest thing you've ever done,” said her father. “We heard the thing screaming, too, but far away, and it never came any closer. I'll go with the men as soon as it's daylight to find out what's in that cave. The whole town will be buzzing over Bess's story about how you two meant to run off, but Paul's a good lad, and I'll stand by him. He has more brains than the other boys here, this night's work aside.”

“I knew it was just nonsense,” said Fair Sarah, her voice shaking. “I knew I should have slapped Bess as soon as I heard it. You wouldn't ever leave us, child, and my boy knows he has no call to run off. Where would he go, I'd like to know,” she demanded angrily, “and him with not a soul left in the world? And like as not still feverish, too, and who would make him his herb drink then?”

Maddie took a long look at her mother's tear-stained face. “You don't want Paul to leave us,” she declared triumphantly. “You want him to stay at our own hearthside so you can look after him.”

James Weaver smiled at his wife's determined expression. “She has her heart set on it,” he admitted.

 

Maddie slept later than she ever had, blissfully free from worry. When she opened her eyes, her parents were gone. James Weaver was with the men deep in the cave, marveling at the iron chain and stout collar, at the deep gouges carved into the rock floor and the chunks of stone hurled about. Fair Sarah was at the blacksmith's house telling Bess and her mother Maddie's tale before Bess had time to tell the town her own.

Only Paul was in the house, sitting on the settle near the doorway and cleaning the mud from his boots before he put them on. Maddie stared at him curiously. He didn't look the same as before. His cheeks had color in them now, and so did his hands. He looked up and smiled at her, and her heart skipped a beat. “Good morning,” he said.

Maddie felt shy. She didn't know whether to burst with pride and happiness or die of embarrassment. She got up and wandered over to the hearth to warm her hands.

“You have to tell me what you did in the cave,” Paul said. “To cure me. What did you do?” He looked at her, but she wouldn't look at him now. “Please tell me, Madeleine,” he insisted. “I need to know.”

“I had to wait until you were changed and then let you tear me apart,” she said. He sat there, stunned, and she decided she would die of embarrassment after all. “It was the only way,” she went on quickly. “It's the only cure for werewolves. Ned told me about it, and I prayed for a way you and my parents could both be happy. That was the answer to my prayer.”

“The answer to a prayer?! How could you pray for such a thing? As if I could be happy after I killed you!”

“But I wanted you to be happy,” she pointed out.

“And I wanted you to be alive,” he answered. “Why do you think I was going to kill myself? I don't want you dead, Madeleine, not ever.”

Maddie laughed. “I'll die someday,” she reminded him cheerfully. “I'm thinking it won't be so bad.”

“You sound like Father Mac,” he said. “He had me in at his cottage all night last night, talking about things like that. I told him what happened, and he says he won't tell. I think I can trust him. He's sure no one ever baptized me, so he's going to do it once I've learned enough.” Maddie giggled at the thought of a grown man being baptized, and Paul grinned sheepishly. “He says I'll be his newest parish baby.

“He told me he has news of Lady Mary, by the way. She's the housekeeper for a priest who's an old friend of his. He says her cooking is terrible, but they have splendid arguments. She goes to Mass just so she can criticize his sermons.”

Maddie warmed her hands and smiled over the news, at peace with the whole world. “My parents were raving,” she remarked, looking down at the burning peat.

“I'll say,” Paul answered, tugging on a boot. “Your ma cried and kissed me and threatened to beat me with her broom. But your dad thinks my carving will be a help to the town, and, anyway, carving isn't all I know to do. I've worked harvests and herding and slaughtering, and I can turn my hand to lots of things. I kept Ned supplied with drink for years. I'm thinking my family won't starve.”

My family. That was Maddie and her parents. Feeling happy, she sat down beside him to watch him lace his boot.

“If you want to come with me, you'd better escape now,” he observed. “Your ma will be back soon. She's bound to keep you wrapped in blankets all day and feed you some awful brew.”

Maddie got up to fetch her blanket. “Where are we going?” she wanted to know.

“We're hunting for wood,” he told her. “A special piece of wood. I don't think Father Mac can have his new Madonna by Christmas, but with a little luck, he'll have it by Easter.”