Running with the Demon - Terry Brooks [120]
I should tell her. I should take the chance. She’s stronger than she looks. She is older than her fourteen years. She can accept it.
But he said nothing. Old Bob finished, sighed, glanced out across the bayou as if seeing into the past, then reached over impulsively to pat his wife’s hand. “You’re awfully quiet, Dark Eyes.”
For just an instant all the hardness went out of Evelyn Freemark’s face, all the lines and age spots vanished, and she was young again. A smile flickered at the corners of her mouth, and her eyes lifted to find his.
Ross stood up, leaning on his staff for support. “Nest, how about taking a walk with me. My leg stiffens up if I sit for too long. Maybe you can keep me from getting lost.”
Nest put down her plate and looked at her grandmother. “Gran, do you want me to help clean up?”
Her grandmother shook her head, said nothing. Nest waited a moment, then rose. “Let’s go this way,” she said to Ross. She glanced at her grandparents. “We’ll be back in a little while.”
They climbed the hill at an angle that took them away from the crowds, east toward the park’s far end, where the deep woods lay. They walked in silence, Nest pacing herself so that Ross could keep up with her, limping along with the aid of his staff. They worked their way slowly through the shady oaks and hickories, passing families seated on blankets and at tables eating their picnic lunches, following the curve of the slope as it wound back around the rise and away from the river. Soon Gran and Old Bob were out of sight.
When they were safely alone, Ross said to her, “I’m sorry about what happened at church. I know it was scary.”
“I have to show you something,” she said, ignoring his apology. “I promised Pick.”
They walked on for a ways in silence, and then she asked sharply, accusingly, “Are you an angel? You know, in the Biblical sense? Is that what you are?”
He stared over at her, but she wasn’t looking at him, she was looking at the ground. “No, I don’t think so. I’m just a man.”
“But if God is real, there must be angels.”
“I suppose so. I don’t know.”
Her voice was clipped, surly. “Which? Which don’t you know? If there are angels or if God is real?”
He slowed and then stopped altogether, forcing her to do the same. He waited until she was looking at him. “What I told you was the truth — about the Fairy Glen, and the Lady, and the voice, and the way I became a Knight of the Word. What are you asking me, Nest?”
Her eyes were hot. “If there really is a God, why would He allow all those feeders in His church? Why would He allow the demon in? Why would He allow Mrs. Browning to die? Why didn’t He stop it from happening?”
Ross took a long, slow breath. “Maybe that isn’t the way it works. Isn’t the church supposed to be open to everyone?”
“Not to demons and feeders! Not to things like that! What are they doing here, anyway? Why aren’t they somewhere else?” Her voice was hard-edged and shaking now, and her hands were gesturing wildly. “If you really are a Knight of the Word, why don’t you do something about them? Don’t you have some kind of power? You must! Can’t you use it on them? Why is this so hard?”
Ross looked off into the trees. Tell her. His hands tightened on the staff. “If I destroy the feeders, I reveal myself.” He looked back at her. “I let people know what I am. When that happens, I am compromised. Worse, I weaken myself. I don’t have unlimited power. I have... only so much. Every time I use it, I leave myself exposed. If the demon finds me like that, he will destroy me. I have to be patient, to wait, to choose my time. Ideally, I will only have to use my power once — when I have the demon before me.”
He felt trapped by his words. “Pick must have told you about the feeders. The feeders are only here because of us. They react to us, to us as humans. They feed on our emotions, on our behavior. They grow stronger