Feast (19 page)
Authors: Merrie Destefano
Maddie:
The room spun with enchantment and magic, then the Legend ended abruptly. It felt as if I’d been startled awake and, all around me, a dream was dissipating. The image of Lily’s death faded, along with it the image of Ash flying to the rooftop and casting a curse on all of Ticonderoga Falls; the sparkles that had been hanging in the air faded, and the century-old vista that I had been staring into—the Victorian landscape of the nineteenth century—disappeared. In its stead I saw the bungalow living room, Tucker in a corner chair, and Samwise still curled before the fire. Just then Joe Wimbledon scrambled to his feet.
“No!” he cried out. “You can’t let Driscoll go.”
A horrific noise, almost like the world itself was being pulled apart, screeched overhead and rumbled beneath my feet. It even vibrated on my skin. I reached out to pull Tucker into my arms, shielding him in case the ceiling began to crumble down.
Then I saw Ash, slumped to the floor, a strange wound in his side and his blood flowing.
The wound in his side, that place where the light shined through, revealing that he wasn’t human.
Ash was the Darkling in the Legend. And he was the creature who had protected me in the woods when I was a little girl. All of my feelings changed in an instant. I was no longer afraid or curious, I was no longer searching for a story.
A friend of mine was wounded, possibly dying, right in front of me.
I leaped from my chair to kneel beside him, pulling Tucker with me, making sure my son was still safe. Then I ripped Ash’s shirt open so I could see the wound better.
“Get some bandages!” I cried to Joe. Meanwhile, I tried to stop the flow of blood with part of Ash’s shirt.
“Don’t let him go, Mr. Ash, please—” Joe said, shaking his head.
“Look, I don’t know what you’re babbling about,” I said, “but he needs help. Now! Tucker run to the bathroom, grab a couple of clean towels!”
Tucker dashed off. I wadded the shirt fabric into a lumpy ball and pressed it against Ash’s flesh, his pulse racing beneath my fingertips. A scorching heat poured from him, almost too hot to bear, but I forced myself to remain, despite blistering fingers.
“Don’t you see, you just can’t let Driscoll leave,” Joe pleaded as he sank to a weary kneeling position beside Ash. “The magic’s ripping apart, we won’t have no more protection from the wild ones—”
“You can’t stop it,” Ash said with a rough gasp.
Then Tucker came back with an armful of towels. I pushed the linens against the wound, tried to stop the blood flow, but they just soaked it up, turned scarlet, fabric singeing at the edges, smoke mixing with the coppery smell of blood.
Ash moaned and writhed from the pain. He glanced up at me, eyes like those of a trapped animal. Then I saw something else in their depths. A hidden emotion, finally revealed. Something I hadn’t seen in a man’s eyes for so long that I almost didn’t recognize it.
He turned his face aside and pushed himself to a sitting position, then leaned against one of the chairs, the flow from his wound finally slowing. He lifted his head and roared, his voice echoing through the treetops, soaring all the way to Cedarpine Peak and then falling off the precipice into the blue-black valley below.
“I release you!” he cried.
And a still emptiness echoed back, with just as much power as the magic. It slivered through the room, pierced every chest, made every one of us stop and be still.
At that same moment, the hole in Ash’s side began to miraculously mend, knitting together, silver threads of light stitching the edges of flesh and bone in a hundred lightning-quick sutures. It must have been unbearable, for he cried out again, then gasped for air, his face contorted in pain. Finally, with a shudder, he fell into a heap on the floor.
Outside the clouds whirled about the moon and the heavens roiled.
And somehow I knew that yet another chapter in this dark mountain legend was about to unfold.
Elspeth:
Magic sizzled through the air. It bristled across my arms and made the base of my hidden wings ache. I held hands with Jake as we joined the rest of the trick-or-treaters, and the touch of his flesh made me lightheaded. The laughter of a large crowd filled the junkyard as I shimmied through the broken gate. A chain-link fence surrounded the area, guarded by a few deserted buildings, windows boarded over, doors hanging limp on broken hinges. Everything was broken here and the trees were set back, so far away I could barely smell them. Part of me wanted to leave. I didn’t like being separated from the woods. They’d always provided protection, a place to run and hide when I felt like I didn’t fit in.
The way I’d felt my entire childhood.
Until now.
Jake smiled as he led me down the narrow path between yesterday’s cast-offs: past towering heaps of fenders and hubcaps and the rusted-out shells of old battered cars, past wire box springs and a ripped-up sofa, past heaps of toasters and blenders and microwaves. And underneath it all cracked a broken sea of cement, tufts of wild grass peeking through.
I’d never been anyplace like this before. No dirt or water nearby. Even the wind seemed to have abandoned this corner of the universe. Still, there was one who never left me, whether I wanted her to or not.
The moon.
Slipping from behind thick clouds to taunt me, to whisper and remind me of the Hunt. As if I had forgotten, as if I could think about anything else when Jake walked so close, his leg brushing against mine as we continued to wind through the rubble, fire rushing through my limbs the longer I denied the call to harvest.
Finally, we found our way into a large open space.
Here, the area was painted with flickering flames and the smell of smoke hung in the air, everything and everyone now dressed in shades of red and yellow and orange. A large bonfire snapped and crackled in the center, devouring beams of old lumber and wooden pallets. Other young people milled about with masks hanging loose, some already dipping into their cache of Pixy Stix and Good & Plenty, jaws chewing slowly, mouths creased in sugary grins.
That was when I caught a glimpse of myself in a cracked mirror. I gasped, retreating into the shadows. My own mask had unintentionally slipped during the course of the evening. Now many of my Darkling features were more pronounced: slender pointed ears sticking out of long dark hair, my eyes reflecting the firelight with a silver glow. I turned away from the others, adjusted my appearance and hastily glanced back in the mirror.
Completely human again
.
Jake was staring at me.
“I liked the way you looked. Before,” he said, his voice low.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“It’s Halloween,” he said. “You can wear any disguise you want tonight.”
I shook my head, trembling. No. I couldn’t. It wasn’t safe.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
I looked into his eyes, wishing it were true. Wishing he were strong enough to protect me if anyone found out who I really was, if they turned on me.
Just then Hunter pushed his way to the center of the crowd. In one arm he carried a long stick with a human skull on top.
“Is that real?” I whispered to Jake, suddenly imagining my own head on a pike. That sort of brutality hadn’t happened since the Middle Ages. But it was part of my tormented Darkling heritage. It could happen again. Anything could happen if the humans realized Darklings weren’t myth.
“Of course, it’s not real.” Jake took my hand, pulled me close to him, then slid one arm around my waist. “It’s just part of the game. Hunter does this every year.”
“Game?” Suddenly I was intrigued. Like all Darklings, I loved games. Humans were so easy to trick, and if the game was played right I would win. That would be a tale worthy of boasting about around the fires of home.
If I ever went home again.
Thane:
The press of so many humans crowded into one place was exhilarating. I drifted through the crowd, touching each of the warm bodies as I passed, feeding off their excitement and sugar high. My strength had grown throughout the evening. The broken arm had completely healed, and now I sauntered with a bravado I hadn’t felt in moons, each footstep claiming this little village as mine. I no longer masked my scent or pretended that I liked the fragrance of wet wood and smoke.
River clumped along beside me, trying so hard to maintain his disguise that all of his movements had become wooden and unnatural. He had followed behind me and the rest of the trick-or-treaters for almost a mile before he finally caught up with us. But there was no bitterness between us now. It no longer mattered whether the lad held his disguise. In this flickering firelight few would notice. Together, we were stalking Hunter, taking our time, knowing that soon enough we’d be sharing another feast.
Just then I stopped and ran a gaze through the crowd.
I could smell the presence of another Darkling, not far away, trying to hide, the sizzle of reality folding, casting a familiar odor into the brisk night air.
Then I found her standing in the moonlight, surrounded by a pale silver outline. Wearing human skin, hanging on the arm of one of the teenage boys—Elspeth. Even dressed as a human, she was quite lovely. I could see the Darkling features through her disguise, the delicate bone structure, slender chin, high forehead, all attesting to her Blackmoor clan lineage. And I could sense her hunger, though she tried to quench it. It made all the colors around her a smidgen brighter, especially those in the young man who strode with a quiet confidence at her side.
That was the one she wanted.
I snickered. Let her hunt. She deserved to take whatever she wanted, her father had all but abandoned her over the years. And soon all of this, including that teenage human she favored, would belong to me.
I grinned, a smile too deep and decadent for the six-year-old child that I pretended to be. Maybe, when this was all over, I’d invite her into my clan. She was a few years younger than I was, but she’d be useful. She could help train my half-breed children once they were born.
And she’d make a good mate.
I inhaled deeply, let her new scent swirl through my head—crushed rose petals and clover—imagined her training my children—our children—how to fly and hunt, how to cast enchantments. Maybe I would take a whole flock of wives, like they used to in the old days. A few humans mixed into the bunch.
Then I remembered Madeline.
I would find her, as soon as I was done stalking this group of sumptuous children. I watched Hunter, drank in the lad’s smell, smoke flowing from his skin in a shimmer of heat. Dangerous young man—his dreams would be dark and self-possessed and sensuous, a good addition to my stable. I longed to swoop down on Hunter now, mark him as my own.
Just at that moment, Hunter dragged a wooden crate into position, then climbed on top.
“Time for the tally and the dare,” he announced in a loud voice.
All heads turned toward him and all voices hushed.
Ash:
I could feel it building in the distance with a wild fury, the Legend was getting ready to slash through this mountain village. Like a butcher’s cleaver, it would separate bone from marrow, severing the protective shield that had become a part of the fabric of every building, every rock, every living creature in Ticonderoga Falls. In an instant, the glowing, almost invisible latticework would fall away. From the edge of Blueridge Mount to Cedarpine Peak, the village would be laid bare.
It began with a rumbling quake.
Already I could hear it sweeping down Main Street, rattling all the windows and shaking doors. It flipped several cars and it shred a furrow right down the center of the highway. Then it shocked outward with the force of a sonic boom, knocked a few people off their feet, and with a quirky twist, it shattered all the glass globes in the vintage-inspired street lights that lined the town square.
It would only be felt by those humans who happened to be in Ticonderoga Falls at the time. No outsiders would suspect a thing. But that didn’t matter, because I knew that it would be heard by every Darkling, wild or tame, for a thousand miles. And they would all know exactly what it meant.
Ticonderoga Falls no longer had a guardian. The humans who lived here were now fair game.
Elspeth:
The ground trembled and shook beneath us. The fence around the junkyard bowed and flexed; in the near distance, the line of trees rippled and waved. Instinctively, I wrapped one arm around Jake and covered us both with a Veil. All about us broken things began to tumble to the ground, until the aisle that led to the exit was choked with clutter and debris. The longer the quake lasted, the farther I cast my enchantment until nearly all of the children were sheltered beneath my covering. Even Hunter. I managed to keep him standing upright despite the tossing and the turning, always focusing my attention on the ever bright, ever strong moon.
And throughout it all, I felt myself growing stronger.
A strange whisper burned in my ear.
It’s different now
. I wished Father were here, I suddenly longed to see him, to know that he was safe.
Then as quickly as it had started, the quake passed.
Jake seemed to know what I had done. He smiled and held my hand, just as Hunter raised his arms, claiming his right to the dare.
“Every year we play a game,” he said, his voice triumphant, as if he had defeated the rolling quake himself. “This year I choose the dare and, with it, I command that everyone reveal their true nature tonight—”
Even from this distance, I could see a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
“—So, to get this epic adventure started, I’m going to sing something that my grandmother used to sing to me. She called it an incantation of protection—”
“No,” Jake said, shaking his head. He started pulling me toward the exit, climbing over the top of the rubble, trying to make it toward the hole in the fence. “We need to leave, Elspeth. Now!” I stumbled over toasters and microwaves, cut my arm on a broken mirror, all the while compelled to turn and listen to Hunter. “Close your ears, don’t listen to him,” Jake warned.
He continued to pull me along the top of the debris, one laborious step at a time. It would have been easier if we had just flown out, if I just dropped my disguise and carried him. It felt like I might be strong enough to fly a great distance right now, although I didn’t want to leave. I kept stopping, turning around to face Hunter and staring at him, his words melting into a lyrical song, so like the songs of home that it made my skin flush and my shoulders ache from the hiding. I longed to cast off my mask.
“—you can no longer hide,” Hunter sang then, his voice strong and clear, “from those who dwell in the world of humans—”
Jake grabbed me by the wrist and began pulling me even harder over the top of the rubble. The exit wasn’t completely blocked off—I could see that now. But at the same time, a growl of rebellion was building in my chest. I wrenched free from his grasp, my eyes glowing.
“No!” I bellowed. “I want to stay!”
“—all you, who live in a perpetual state of pretend,” Hunter sang, “all wearing gowns made of false flesh, gowns fashioned from the fabric of dreams—”
Now I
couldn’t
move. My feet were fastened in place and my face was locked in position. I had to stare at Hunter, had to listen, had to obey the incantation that poured from his lips, sweet as sugar, lovely as the silver moon. Even though, for the first time, I finally realized the danger that was coming.
“—all you Darklings, near and far, must reveal yourselves now!”
At that moment, Hunter’s incantation sparked upward, toward the heavens, brilliant as heat lightning. There, it carved the night sky into colors and it wrinkled the clouds, then it reached down to earth with hands of mist and fog. The dark magic searched the junkyard, looking for the familiar fragrance of folded reality.
It was looking for me.
Without even glancing down, I knew that my skin was cracking, peeling off and blowing in the wind like ashes. Bits of the mask I had been wearing spiraled about me, turned into a dust devil of bright color before sailing away. I could now see two others like me in the human crowd.
Thane and River.
Their countenance dissolved, like a pile of crumbling autumn leaves.
They were frozen in place too, just like me.
The last note faded from Hunter’s song and I was released; my wings unfurled wide and I was compelled to soar overhead. That was when I finally knew the true purpose of this ancient spell—in a moment, all of the Darklings near and far would be revealed. And then, like me, they would all be pulled here in a great hurricane of flapping black wings.
As if this were a black hole that none of us could escape.
