Running with the Demon - Terry Brooks [166]
She started to say something flip, then saw the look in his eyes and caught herself just in time. She felt her throat tighten. “You heard?”
Pick nodded.
“Everything?”
“Everything.” Pick folded his wooden arms defensively. “Do me a favor. Don’t tell me I should have told you about him before this. Don’t make me remind you of something you already know.”
She compressed her lips into a tight line to keep the tears in check. “Like what?”
“Like how it’s not my place to tell you secrets about your family.” Pick shook his head admonishingly. “I’m sorry you had to find out, but not sorry it didn’t come from me. In any case, it’s no reason for you to leap up and run off. It’s not the end of the world.”
“Not yours, anyway.”
“Not yours, either!” The words snapped at her. “You’ve had a nasty shock, and you have a right to be upset, but you can’t afford to go to pieces over it. I don’t know how John Ross found out about it, and I don’t know why he decided to tell you. But I do know that it isn’t going to help matters if you crawl off into a hole and wait for it all to go away! You have to do something about it!”
Nest almost laughed. “Like what, Pick? What should I do? Go back to the house and get the shotgun? A lot of good that did Gran! He’s a demon! Didn’t you hear? A demon! My father’s a demon! Jeez! It sounds like a bad joke!” She brushed away fresh tears. “Anyway, I’m not talking about this with you until you tell me the truth about him. You know the truth, don’t you? You’ve always known. You didn’t tell me while Gran was alive because you didn’t feel you should. Okay. I understand that. But she’s dead now, and somebody better tell me the truth right now or I’m probably going to end up dead, too!”
She was gulping against the sobs that welled up in her throat, angry and afraid and miserable.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” Pick threw up his hands in disgust and began tugging on his beard. “Exactly what is it you think I should tell you, Nest? What part of the truth haven’t you figured out, bright girl that you are? Your grandmother was a wild thing, a young girl who bent a lot of rules and broke a few more. That Indian showed you most of it, with his dancing and his visions. She ran with the feeders in Sinnissippi Park, daring anything, and that led to her involvement with the demon. The demon wanted her, whether for herself or her magic, I don’t know. He was furious when she found out what he was and told him she didn’t want anything more to do with him. He threatened her, told her the choice wasn’t hers to make. But she was tough and hard and not afraid of him, and she wouldn’t back down. She told him what she would do if he didn’t leave her alone, and he knew she meant business.”
The sylvan stamped his foot. “Are you with me so far? Good. Here’s the rest of it. He waited for his chance to get even, the way demons do. He was mostly smoke and dark magic, so aging wasn’t a problem for him. He could afford to be patient. He waited until your grandmother married and your mother came along. He waited for your mother to grow up. I think your grandmother believed she’d seen the last of him by then, but she was wrong. All that time, he was waiting to get back at her. He did it through your mother. He deceived her with his magic and his lies, and then he seduced her. Not out of love or even infatuation. Out of hate. Out of a desire to hurt your grandmother. Deliberately, maliciously, callously. You were the result. Your grandmother didn’t know he was responsible at first, and even if she had, she wouldn’t have told your mother. But the demon waited until you were a few months old and then told them both. Together.”
Nest stared at him, horrified.
His face knotted. “Told them why, too. Took great delight in it. I was there. Your mother went off the cliffs shortly afterward. I think maybe she did it on purpose, but nobody saw it happen, so I can’t be sure.”
His frustration with her attitude seemed to dissipate. His voice softened. “The thing that concerns me is that