“The boy’s eyes were dead already. I could tell from his face — whatever they had done to him had broken him. Killing him was a kindness.”
A silence wound around the two boys as they sat.
“I’ve never killed anyone before,” Pil admitted. “It scares me; I feel like everything’s changed.”
Damian didn’t say anything for a moment. “Maybe you have changed. I don’t think that matters, though. Does it change what you need to do — does it change your goals?”
Pil thought for a moment.
“I suppose not.” He admitted. “But that is an even more frightening thought. Does life matter so little?”
Damian turned and looked him full in the face. “Yes.”
Pil was lost in his sad dark eyes. He didn't know if he believed him, but it lessened the weight on his heart.
Damian sighed deeply. “Look, Pil, you saved all of our lives today. You can’t save everyone, and if you try you might lose more than you gain.”
Pil nodded solemnly and the two boys sat for a moment in complete silence, listening to the gentle wind.
“What are you going to do now that you’re free?” asked Pil.
“I was hoping I could stay with you…” said Damian awkwardly.
“To Westleton, you mean?” said Pil incredulously.
Damian opened his mouth but was cut off by a rustling from behind them.
“Pil!” Sandy erupted into the clearing, looking shaken. “Brixton — he’s awake!”
Pil’s heart sunk. The thought of dealing with Brixton was nauseating; he still wasn’t sure how involved Brixton was in betraying them.
Pil and Damian rose immediately and followed Sandy back the way he had come. As they approached the spot Pil heard the unmistakable raised voice of Brixton Bells.
“Get out of my way, you oaf!”
“Not until Pil comes back —” came Dirks gruff voice.
“Brixton, if you don’t sit down I’ll —”
Pil walked in just as Felicity raised her fist at Brixton, who was staring furiously up at Dirk. The commotion stopped as he came into view.
“And here he is, your pint-sized master — why don’t you call off your dogs, Per — agghh!”
Without a word, Pil had walked straight up to Brixton and hit him full in the face. Brixton stumbled back, nose bleeding, looking enraged.
“What in the —”
“That’s for Sandy,” growled Pil. “You knew those were Holly Berries! I should make you try a few, and let you run off on your own!”
Brixton cowered under his rage, looking from side to side for an escape. Dirk and Felicity closed in.
“It’s not my fault he ran away,” said Brixton, backing into a nearby tree. “We were planning on grabbing him and dragging him back to camp — but we got caught up by those — those Fairies!”
Just then a twisted angry look came over his face. “You! I remember you!” he shouted fiercely, pointing behind Pil to Damian. “He’s one of them! — He’s a Fairy… kill him!” Brixton looked around frantically for a weapon, but nobody else moved.
“What in the hell are you all doing?!” yelled Brixton, looking up. “He’s a filthy Fairy, look at his eyes!! Give me a weapon!”
Pil glanced at Damian and then back to Brixton. “I don’t give a damn that he’s Fairy. Right now, the only one in danger of being killed is you.” “You traitorous little —”
“You’re one to talk about traitors!” yelled Sandy unexpectedly. “It’s your dad who killed all of those Exidite back at camp!”
“What in the hell are you talking about, Shackles?” cursed Brixton. “Did those Berries mess with your head? Not that there was much to mess with, anyway.”
“Everyone’s dead, Bells,” said Pil darkly. “Every one of the Exidite back at the camp is dead… and before the Captain died, he said your father did it.”
Brixton looked disbelieving at them all. “Have you all lost your minds? I knew the lot of you were bongers, but an entire squadron of Exidite dead?” He laughed mirthlessly. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, Pil … But if you don’t get out of my way, I’ll kill the lot of you and say it was the Fairy!”
He had begun to regain his old swagger, his face was hard and furious, but Pil stared back, supremely unconcerned.
"You're outnumbered and weaponless," he said simply. “I suggest you sit down with the rest of your group while we figure out what to do with you.”
Brixton shot him a filthy look and then pushed past Felicity and sat back down against the tree, where Raven and Pheonix sat unconscious.
“All right, now that’s settled,” said Pil, looking around. “What exactly should we do with them?”
“I liked your idea about the Holly Berry,” suggested Dirk savagely.
“Oh, Dirk, calm down,” said Felicity, crossing her arms. “Well, I don’t want them with us, but they could be useful; and when we get back, Brixton might have to be questioned about his father.”
Pil turned to Sandy, who shrugged. “I don’t care what we do with them, but I don’t fancy sleeping next to them or giving them any weapons.”
Pil nodded. “Right, we’ll keep them along, but tied up — Damian will you hold the rope and keep an eye on them?”
Damian nodded, throwing Brixton a cold, uncaring look that would have set anyone on edge. Brixton looked away from them indignantly.
“So, if we don’t know where we are, how are we supposed to get back?” asked Dirk, worried.
“The trees,” suggested Felicity. “If I can climb to the top of the tallest tree, I might be able to find our bearings.”
“All right, that’s settled,” said Pil, unsheathing his sword. “Dirk, grab a length of rope from our supplies pack and tie up those three,” he said, gesturing to Brixton. "Squish some Merry Berry into Pheonix and Raven's mouths if you can. It’ll be easier to walk if they’re awake. Damian, Sandy, and I will keep guard. I don’t like staying in one place too long, so let’s move fast.”
Pil looked around at the quiet forest; his nerves were unusually high after the battle in the clearing. The small group set to work. After a short look around Felicity found a suitable tree and hopped lightly up it; she was soon hidden by layers and layers of thick foliage. Damian pulled out a small knife and patrolled the area, moving so lithely he could have been floating. Sandy dropped a set of arrows as he attempted to string his bow. He was visibly shaking.
“You don’t reckon we’ll be attacked again?” he asked Pil. “I mean, I’m almost out of arrows…”
“I hope not, but that worries me more. I mean, think about how little we have been attacked…”
“What do you mean? We’ve had quite enough of it for my tastes.”
“Well, you’ve read the books and heard the stories,” said Pil, cleaning the blood off his sword on his black Foxfir shirt. "There are supposed to be hundreds, even thousands of Bahbeqs, and who knows what other kinds of mental things in Lungala."
“Yeah, but we’ve seen a fair amount already. I mean, look at what just happened!”
Pil finished cleaning his sword and sheathed it again. “It’s not enough,” he said quietly. “To be honest, I thought we would be long dead already. Have you even seen or heard any sign of the Bahbeq?”
Sandy shook his head and was quiet for a moment.
“You think we will make it home, Pil?” he asked.
“I dunno,” said Pil truthfully. “I want to believe we will. We’ve lasted this long, who knows? Maybe…”
Sandy nodded. “Look, if I — if I don’t make it, and you do —”
“Sandy, that’s just not going to — ”
“Pil, just listen. If I don’t make it, tell my mom for me, tell her I love her…and I tried my best… and just… take care of her for me… if you can.”
Pil nodded solemnly. “Of course I will, but you’re going to make it, Sandy… I’ll make sure of it.”
“Pil!” yelled Felicity as she leapt lightly down f
rom the tree. “We need to cut left; we’re heading towards Knix Mountain.”
Pil’s heart dropped. “All right, Dirk, how’s it going?”
“Just finished,” said Dirk, straightening up. The three boys were tied tightly together with Brixton in the middle, looking mutinous. Squished bits of red juice dripped from the other two boys’ half-open mouths.
“Right. Well, let’s get a move on, then.”
Pil nodded at Damian, went over to Raven and Pheonix, and slapped them hard until they woke — each gibbering nonsensically.
“Pheonix, Raven, Brixton!” said Pil harshly when they had fully come around. “You will all move with us and do as we say. If you disobey us or try and run away, we’ll leave you in this forest to die. Is that understood?”
Pheonix and Raven looked befuddled but nodded, frightened. Brixton, on the other hand, stared at Pil with such venom he might have been trying to burn a hole in him.
“Right,” continued Pil, unconcerned, as he hefted up a bag of supplies and gestured to Felicity. “Lead the way, Fel.”
18
Giants
Felicity moved swiftly to the head of the group, leading them through a winding bit of brush and trees as though a path had been made suddenly clear to her. Dirk and Sandy came after, followed shortly by a stumbling bundle that included Brixton and his lackeys; all of whom were being prodded along by the point of Damian’s knife, a wickedly pleased look on his face. Pil took up the rear, his hand gently on the hilt of his sword.
In that way, they trouped through Lungala for yet another day, the sun beaming down and rather a lot more cursing and stumbling than usual. Pil found it difficult to walk, his whole body felt numb with pain, and the scabbed cuts across his eye were throbbing painfully. It gave him a kind of savage pleasure to see Brixton tripping his way along, burdened down by the two goons tied to his sides. Every time he stumbled, he cursed and thrust an elbow as deeply as he could into one of the other boys’ sides.
“How much further must we tramp?” asked Brixton, outraged, attempting to hide his shallow breathing. “At least get these useless bongers off me! I can’t move an inch in this damn rope!”
“That’s the point,” said Dirk with a chuckle.
“Harlem will hear of this when we get back, you know!” said Brixton savagely. “I’ll have you all flailed within an inch of your life!”
Pil yawned sincerely. “Might be a bit difficult doing all that from your prison cell — but I suppose you’ll at least have your dad to complain to down in the dungeon.”
“You think you’re so smart, Persins,” said Brixton, tripping as he attempted to look back at Pil. “Even if the whole squad really was killed, my Dad’s got nothing to do with it. But it looks a bit suspicious to me. I mean, you four the only survivors? And with a Fairy friend at that, I reckon Harlem might have a few questions for you… hopefully, he must resort to some sort of torture; he might even let me do it if I ask nicely.”
Pil said nothing. There was too much truth in this. What if Harlem did think they were the ones responsible for the attack? No one else had heard Tiberius say it was Baer — it was their word against Baer’s in the end… And Damian — Pil threw him a sidelong look — Brixton was right: Fairies were considered like demons to Elfin.
“We’ll set camp just ahead,” said Pil. “Fel, stop when you find a good spot.”
She nodded without looking; she was concentrating hard on the sky and trees around them as if they had hidden signs written on them. Felicity led them for a lot longer than Pil had been hoping. It was getting harder and harder for Pil to walk through the pain of his body, though he would never admit it.
“Here,” she said at last, indicating a large swath of empty forest surround by moss-covered trees and thick hanging vines.
“Right. Let’s eat before we set up — I’m starving,” said Pil, throwing his sack of supplies down.
Dirk set his things down and then scrounged around for a few logs small enough to be carried. The logs were arranged in a circle and they all sat down gratefully, leaving Brixton and the others alone at the edge of the clearing.
“Thanks,” said Pil, accepting a Merry Berry and a droplet of water from Dirk. Pil ate his Berry in one bite and savored the bright flavor of the juice. It worked like magic; his aches and pains alleviated, and his muscles fell instantly numb. “Mmm,” he groaned appreciatively.
They all ate and drank greedily as though they had been starving for days.
“What now?” asked Sandy nervously. “I mean, Brixton’s got a point.”
“The only thing Brixton’s got is rope burn and a bad temper,” said Pil viciously. “We go on. They have to believe us! Baer Bells killed those men.”
“But how do we know?” asked Felicity timidly. Pil shot her a filthy look. “I mean, I believe Tiberius said that, but how do we prove it?” she went on placidly.
Pil thought for a moment. “The head,” he said suddenly. “What happened to the head?”
“What head?” asked Dirk over a bite of bread.
“The head of the Bahbeq!” said Pil impatiently. “Where did it go?”
“Didn’t you say it was a clean cut? The traitor probably took it.”
“Exactly,” said Pil, hushed. “And I heard the Fairies talking about a head, asking if it was taken. So, if we can find the head — we find the traitor!”
“Who’s going to keep a dirty, bleeding Bahbeq head?” asked Sandy, disgusted. “It’s not exactly a pretty decoration piece, is it?”
“I dunno,” said Pil seriously. “They aren’t well likely to get rid of it, though, are they?”
“No,” said Damian quietly from the corner. “He needs it for something. Basil and Sage mentioned it once; they were told to make sure the traitor took it with him.”
Everyone went silent for a minute. Brixton was moaning loudly from his corner, grumbling unintelligible insults.
“What about Tiberius’s body?” asked Pil after a second. “Did the traitor have to take that too?”
Damian furrowed his brows. “No — I’ve never heard of a Tiberius. They never mention names at all. Well, not around me, anyway.”
“Tiberius’s body?” Dirk asked Pil, confused. “Why do you think he’d need that?”
“I forgot to tell you guys,” said Pil. “When I went back the second time, his body was gone. All the others were still there, though.”
“Pil!” shouted Felicity suddenly. “What if he wasn’t dead? What if he faked it?” “Wha — Tiberius? No…” said Pil dismissively. “He wouldn’t betray Harlem. He’s a Captain; he probably just got eaten by something or —”
“Pil, open your mind.” Felicity sighed. “We can’t trust anybody anymore… something’s going on in the Exidite.”
“I agree,” said Pil solemnly. “We can only trust each other now...”
“I trust Pil,” said Damian suddenly. “The rest of you I will remain wary of.”
There was an awkward silence after this proclamation in which everyone looked shiftily around.
“Er — thanks, Damian,” said Pil finally.
“I think we should form a group,” interrupted Sandy brightly. “A mini-squadron of our own; we can find out what’s going on from the inside.”
Pil laughed. “How about the ‘trying not to die’ group?” he suggested sarcastically.
Dirk looked up at Damian. “Wait a moment. You’re not coming back with us, are you?”
Damian’s white skin tinted red very slightly. “I — well, I was talking to Pil about going back with you all, actually…”
The Elfin sat in a stunned silence staring at him.
“I could help you,” he went on. “I’m not like other Fairies.”
“But Fairies aren’t allowed in Westleton,” said Sandy, confused. “We couldn’t get you in even if we wanted to.”
“That was my problem,” said Pil, thinking seriously.
“Pil!” said Felicity. “You’re not actually thinking about
this, are you?”
“Well, why not?” Pil asked, putting his hands up in defense against her comment. “He saved my life.”
“Yeah, but, Pil, we could get arrested at the very least,” she argued, not looking at Damian. “Not to mention, he’s a Fairy — we know nothing about him, and we can’t hide him.”
“Hiding me will be easy,” said Damian suddenly. “And I don’t care what happens to me. I’m following Pil — I owe him a death debt. Where I come from, loyalty means forever.”
Pil was surprised at this sudden outburst and looked at Damian’s set face.
“You don’t owe me anything,” Pil said truthfully. “You saved my life, I saved yours — we’re square.”
“It’s not just my life you saved,” said Damian shortly. “My life was meaningless before you came along; I had nothing to look forward to except a quick death. I was less than nobody, less than a dead thing. You saved me from that, Pil. Whether you like it or not, my life is yours.”
There was a ringing silence after that. Pil was quite taken aback; he knew Damian wanted to go with him, but he hadn’t thought he would be that devoted.
“Damian, I don’t want a slave. I’m not like your Sage and Basil…”
“I know that,” said Damian, hanging his head shyly. “I — this is the only way I have lived… this is all I know.”
Pil sighed deeply.
“Look, Damian, I’m flattered, honestly,” Pil started, not quite sure where he was going. “But you’re free now. You can do what you want! I don’t want you in chains anymore.”
Pil looked up to see Damian staring him hard in the eye. It was like hitting a stone wall, there was so much in those pure black eyes that he couldn’t comprehend.
“I’m following you, and there’s nothing that could stop me.”
Pil sighed again and looked up, thinking. After a minute he lowered his head and nodded. “You’ll come with me, Damian, but I’m not your Master. We’re friends, okay?”
Damian smiled. It was like the moon rising in the night. His face turned from hard, emotionless stone to a twisted reflection of a young child.
After the Dark Page 18