The Child Thief (51 page)

“
THAT’S FAR ENOUGH!
” Officer Mac squealed. The gun was trembling in his hand.

Julio put in a quick call for backup and prayed Mac wouldn’t do anything stupid in the meantime. Julio held up a hand diplomatically. “If I can just get you to—”

BLAM!
Officer Mac shot one of the monsters.

The bullet punched a hole in the monster’s stomach. It looked at the bullet hole and furrowed its brows, then stuck a finger in the wound and brought it back out covered in black blood. Its eyes flared and it grabbed Mac by the wrist.

The gun fired five more sharp reports. Some of the monsters stepped back, but the one that had hold of Mac, the one who now had six bullets in its gullet, groaned and fell over.

In a blink, one of the monsters drew a short sword and shoved the blade, to the hilt, right in Officer Mac’s eye. The blade punched out the back of Mac’s head, sending his hat flying off his comb-over.

Julio made a play for his gun, managed to get it clear of his holster, but that was as far as he got. Hard hands seized him and he felt something long and cold sink into his stomach over and over until everything went black.

THE CAPTAIN STOOD
over the two dead men. Killing them hadn’t been a very smart thing to do. Those men had been constables or guards, and he was sure that killing them wouldn’t sit well with whatever powers lorded over this kingdom.

The Captain waited for the others to move on, then bent down and retrieved the weapon from the guard. It was obviously a pistol, but of a sort he’d never seen—so small, and with no powder or fuses. Such a weapon could come in handy. He stuck it in his belt and caught up with the men.

What is this place?
the Captain wondered. He caught sight of two filthy men sleeping next to a rifled garbage can.
Not Heaven,
he thought.
This is now, that’s all. What the world has turned into while we were gone
. He studied the spiraling pillars of poured masonry, ran his hand along the gleaming metal and glass.
And it is both ugly and beautiful.

The Captain suspected there’d be more guards coming soon.
Will they kill us?
he wondered.
Or worse, send us to their dungeons to rot? Have I merely traded one hellhole for another?
Now was the time to free Daniel and get out of here—escape these madmen before they got them both killed.

The men had stopped, bunched up around the bottom of a long flight of silver stairs. The stairs led to the next level. The Captain’s eyes grew wide. The stairs were
moving!

“Just jump on,” Sid, the gangly midshipman, grumbled, and gave Robertson a bump.

Robertson shoved Sid backward and growled, “You just jump on.”

Ox pushed them both. The two men tumbled onto the escalator and were slowly drawn up the moving stairs, soliciting a cheer from the rest of the men, who then began to push and shove one another to be next.

By the time the Captain had gotten on, he saw that many of the men were actually riding back down on the other side, grinning like children as they gripped the black handrail. Halfway down, Sid turned around and tried to walk back up the moving stairs only to bump into Robertson, causing both men to tumble down the steps and spill out onto the shiny floor.

“Enough,” the Reverend cried.

The men frowned. But they rushed back on, laughing like loons as they jostled to be the first to the top.

They continued down a short corridor and found themselves in an immense chamber of glass and masonry. Light was everywhere. The very ceiling glowed.

People in strange garments were rushing through the chamber from all directions, mostly pouring down from the upper levels, all intent on one thing: exiting the building. When the Reverend and his men moved into their midst, the people didn’t know which way to go, and in the ensuing chaos his men became separated into smaller and smaller groups.

There were two sets of glass doors ahead, leading out onto different sides of the building. In the wave of confusion, about half of the men headed out what appeared to be the front of the structure, while the rest followed the Reverend out the side. The Captain followed the Reverend, sticking as close to Danny as he could.

They pushed through the great glass doors and came out into the night lit with a million dazzling lights. Immense buildings of glass and steel towered above them, seeming to disappear into the very heavens. Several broad roads, not of stone but of some foreign dark masonry, lay before them. The Captain stopped.
What manner of sorcery is this?
Dozens of yellow carriages with blinding lamps rolled by at incredible speeds, and…there were
no
horses attached.
No, not sorcery. I know sorcery
, he thought.
This is something else. There’s an explanation.

The lights, the noise, the smells, the strange people, their dress, their oddness, all threatened to overwhelm him. He found himself wanting to look everywhere at once and at the same time wishing to close his eyes and not open them again.
Hold steady
, he commanded himself.
Now is not the time to lose one’s mind.
He locked eyes on the boy.
My duty is to the boy. All this other—the whats and hows. It can wait.

The Captain heard a strange, wailing noise, like hundreds of screaming demons, far away at first, but coming closer.

The men looked dazed, some stumbled forward in wonderment, while others were overwhelmed, choosing to keep their backs against the building, refusing to venture any farther.

“
THERE!
” the Reverend yelled triumphantly. “God’s house.”

The Captain followed the Reverend’s gesture and was amazed to find that there, indeed, was God’s house. A church with a towering white steeple sat just down the avenue. Atop the steeple, a gleaming cross was lit up by piercing beams of white light. The cross stood out against the looming towers like a divine beacon. Below the cross, a statue of some angelic saint looked down upon them with sad, forgiving eyes. Her arms were open, as though welcoming them home.

The Reverend pointed at the Lady and Danny. “Bring the demons,” the Reverend cried. “Time we finish God’s work.” He raised his hands, clutching spastically at the sky as his eye flared with righteousness. “Lord, we come home to you.”

“
GET DOWN,” NICK
hissed. “They’re coming.”

Nick and Cricket ducked behind a parked van and watched as a large group of Flesh-eaters began filtering across the parking lot, staring about with their mouths agape.

Nick heard sirens heading their way. He tried to guess what would happen when the police arrived, what they would do with the Lady, Tanngnost, Peter, the Flesh-eaters, any of them.
This isn’t going to end well for someone
, Nick thought.
Crap, and if they catch me?
He knew what that would mean: they’d take him home to his mother, deliver him right into the hands of Marko.
Wouldn’t that just be some shit, after everything I’ve been through. I gotta get out of here
.

“There’s the Lady!” Cricket said.

Nick spied the Reverend, then the Lady, as Ox marched her into the parking lot. She was still tied to Danny. Danny looked terrified but the Lady’s face showed no emotion, she plodded along with her head down, looking so out of place, so fragile and vulnerable among the noise, glass, steel, and endless concrete.

“We have to do something,” Cricket said.

“Do what? Huh? There’s nothing the two of us can do. Look, now’s our chance to get out of here before the police have this place surrounded.”

“Are you kidding? Are you really gonna just run away?”

“I’m not going to get killed for her. Not for that creature. Not for Peter. Not for any of them.”

“So you’re just gonna abandon her? Just like that? Just like you did with your mother?”

“Don’t give me any more of that crap,” Nick snapped. “She’s not my mother. I don’t owe her a thing.” But he knew that wasn’t entirely true. He’d be dead right now if not for the Lady, dead or some sort of a half-mad demon, like one of those Flesh-eaters. She’d saved him. She’d taken the darkness from him, regardless of how any of this came about.

With what seemed like an effort, the Lady lifted her head and Nick found her eyes directly on him; they were silver now, all their color drained. He sensed her deep within his core, believed he heard her speak his name, a sound as soft as an echo, as though they were still beneath the dark waters of her pond. For a moment Nick could actually see the magical aura that surrounded her, the way it bled from her—tiny sparkling tendrils that flowed and trailed about her—could see magic hiding here and there, peeping out from among the metal and concrete, the garbage and asphalt. The magic flourished as the Lady passed, blooming like a garden after the first spring rain. He felt the magic within him, around him, felt it stronger than ever, understood that even here, in the city, in the world of men, magic
did
exist, woven into the very fabric of the earth. That magic was a fragile and threatened element, and without shepherds like the Lady, it would fade and the earth would become a darker, colder place.

Ox yanked the Lady forward, knocking her to the sidewalk. “To your feet, demon!” Ox yelled, and kicked her, sending her sprawling across the concrete.

Nick winced.

Ox grabbed the Lady by her hair, snatched her to her feet, and gave her a hard shove forward. Nick could see fresh blood streaming down both of her knees.

“Okay,” Nick said.

“What?”

“Okay, we’ll follow them.”

Cricket nodded.

“Just in case, though,” Nick added. “In case there’s a chance. Something we can do. But you have to promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

Cricket grinned. “Me? Never.”

They were interrupted by a blaring car horn. The Reverend, followed by his flock, crossed an intersection and headed up the avenue. Nick looked ahead and saw the church, knew that was where they were taking the Lady, had several guesses to why and not one of them was good.

Nick and Cricket sprinted across the lot, staying low behind the vehicles, trailing the Flesh-eaters.

Nick caught the flash of emergency vehicles coming from far down the street.
The Lady’s running out of time. Where’s Peter? Where the hell did he go?

A heavily wooded park bordered the avenue; Nick and Cricket ducked into the trees. They crept along behind the bushes, keeping pace with the Flesh-eaters. Nick had no idea what they were going to do, could do, but figured they’d stay close and wait for some chance, some opportunity.

The Flesh-eaters began to drift apart as they marched up the sidewalk. Many appeared distracted, more interested in this strange new place than the Reverend and his tirades.

Nick and Cricket came upon a long, rectangular pond with a small fountain in the center. There was good cover among the hedges on the far end of the pond, up near the street. They dropped down behind the hedge and pressed up as close to the road as they dared.

The Reverend headed for the church steps, pushing right out into the street. Several men and Ox pulling Danny and the Lady followed close behind. Car horns blared. There came the screech of tires as a taxi swerved, just missing the Reverend, spun sideways, and slammed into another taxi. The Flesh-eaters were showered in glass and metal fragments. There came more squealing brakes and cars began backing up in both directions. Men got out of their vehicles, shouting and cursing. Horns began going off all up and down the avenue.

The Flesh-eaters stood staring bug-eyed at all the commotion. For the moment, the Lady and Danny were completely unattended.
Now
, thought Nick.
We could grab her now. Just
—

Then, an odd thing happened, making no sense to Nick. The Captain moved up behind Ox and slid out the giant’s sword. Before Ox even knew his sword was gone, the Captain brought the hilt down on his head—striking three solid blows. The giant dropped the rope and tumbled over. The Captain pushed Danny and the Lady back behind him toward the park, toward Nick and Cricket.

The Reverend saw the Captain and his good eye filled with outrage. “Stop them,” he called. The Flesh-eaters barely noticed, still entranced by the wreckage and mayhem.
“STOP THEM!”
the Reverend screeched.
“STOP THEM! STOP THEM NOW!”
This brought the Flesh-eaters around. They locked steely eyes on the Lady and the Captain. Several pulled out their swords and moved to block the Captain’s escape.

HORNS WENT OFF
all up and down the avenue, and sirens came from every direction.

Where is she?
The question repeated itself over and over in Peter’s mind until he wanted to scream. For the hundredth time he scanned the clusters of gawking Flesh-eaters wandering aimlessly up and down the sidewalk, but still, no sign of the Lady.

They’d caught sight of the Flesh-eaters from inside the terminal and followed them out onto the street, keeping low and out of sight. But now Peter believed that the Flesh-eaters had become separated beforehand, understood that the Reverend and the Lady must’ve ended up with another group somewhere else, possibly on the other side of the terminal altogether.

Peter, the elves, and the Devils all ducked down as four patrolmen tromped past. When the police saw the Flesh-eaters, they halted, radioing for backup. Peter could see a line of officers forming a perimeter farther down the street and several more running up the sidewalk toward the terminal. “We’re out of time,” Peter hissed between his teeth. They had to find the Lady,
had
to find her
now
.