"Damn!" Robert whispered softly as the last of the terrifying ice sounds died away. "What was that?"
You don't want to know, Robert, Nest thought in the dark silence of her anger and fear.
CHAPTER 14
They trudged back up the slope from the now empty .A. ice, Nest and Robert herding the children in front of them, no one saying much of anything in the aftermath of the spill. Toboggan runs had been suspended after they went over. Now the slide attendant, a twenty-year park employee named Ray Childress, a man Nest had known since she was a little girl, had dropped the locking bar across the chute, emptied the loading platform of people, and hurried down the hill to find out what had happened. On reaching them, he fell into step beside Robert, warned off of Nest, perhaps, by the look on her face. Robert did his best to explain, but the truth was he didn't understand either, so the best he could do was improvise and suggest that further runs that night probably weren't safe and the park service could investigate the matter better in daylight.
Bennett was next on the scene, bounding down the slope in a flurry of arms and legs, snatching up Harper with such force that the little girl cried out.
"Baby, baby, are you all right?" Still hugging and kissing her, she wheeled angrily on Nest. "What did you think you were doing out there? She's just a little girl! You had no right taking chances with her safety, Nest! I thought I could trust you!"
It was an irrational response, fueled by a mix of fear and self-recrimination. Nest understood. Bennett was an addict, and she viewed everything that happened as being someone else's fault, all the while thinking deep inside that it was really hers.
"I'm sorry, Bennett," she replied. "I did the best I could to keep Harper from any danger. It wasn't something I planned. Anyway, she did very well when we tipped over. She kept her head and held on to me. She was a very brave little girl."
"Sorry, Mommy," Harper said softly.
Bennett Scott glanced down at her, and all the anger drained away in a heartbeat. "It's okay, baby." She didn't look up. "Mommy's sorry, too. She didn't mean to sound so angry. I was just scared."
When they arrived at the top of the slope, Ray Childress told those still standing around to go home, that the slide was closed for the evening and would open again tomorrow if things worked out. The adults, already cold and thinking of warmer places, were just as happy, while the kids grumbled a bit before shuffling away, dragging their sleds behind them. Cars started up and began to pull out of the parking lot, headlights slashing through the trees, tires crunching on frozen snow. Flurries blew sideways in a sudden gust of wind, but the snowfall had slowed to almost nothing.
Nest checked the sky for some sign of Pick, but the sylvan had disappeared. Undoubtedly, Findo Gask was gone as well. She chastised herself for being careless, for thinking that the demon wouldn't dare try anything in a crowd—no, she corrected herself angrily, wouldn't dare try anything period, because that had been the level of arrogance in her thinking. She had been so stupid! She had believed herself invulnerable to Gask, too seasoned a veteran in the wars of the Word and the Void for him to challenge her, too well protected by the magic of Wraith. Or perhaps it had simply been too long since anything had threatened her, and she had come to believe herself impervious to harm.
"You look like you could chew nails," Robert said, coming over to stand beside her.
She put a hand on his shoulder and leaned on him. "Maybe I'll just chew the buttons off your coat. How about that?"
"I don't have any buttons, just zippers." He sighed. "So tell me. What happened down there? I mean, what really happened?"
She shrugged and looked away. "There was a hole in the ice. I caught a glimpse of it just in time."
"It was pitch-black, Nest. I couldn't see anything."
She nodded. "I know, but I see pretty well at night."
He brushed at his mop of blond hair and looked over at John Ross, who was kneeling in front of Little John, speaking softly to him, the boy looking somewhere else. "I don't know, Nest. Last time something weird like this happened, he was here, too. Remember?"
"Don't start, Robert."
"Fourth of July, fifteen years ago, when the fireworks blew up on the slope right below us, and you went chasing after him, and I went chasing after you, and you coldcocked me in the trees..."
She stepped back from him. "Stop it, Robert. This isn't John's fault. He wasn't even with us on the sled."
Robert shrugged. "Maybe so. But maybe it's too bad that he's here at all. I just don't feel good about him, Nest. Sorry."
She shook her head and faced him. "Robert, you were always a little on the pigheaded side. It was an endearing quality when we were kids, and I guess it still is. Sort of. But you'll understand, I hope, if I don't share your one-sided, unsubstantiated, half-baked judgments of people you don't really know."
She took a deep breath. "Try to remember that John Ross is a friend." He looked so chastened, she almost laughed. Instead, she shoved him playfully. "Take Kyle and go home to Amy and your parents. I'll see you tomorrow night."
He nodded and began to move away. Then he looked back at her. "I may be pigheaded, but you are too trusting." He nodded at Ross, then toward Bennett Scott. "Do me a favor. Watch out for yourself."
She dismissed him with a wave of her hand and walked over to Ross, who rose to greet her. "Are you all right?" he asked.
She glanced around to make sure they were out of earshot. Little John stood next to them, but his gaze was flat and empty and directed out at the night. She put a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder, but he didn't respond.
"Gask opened the ice in front of us on that last run," she said quietly. "Pick warned me in time, and I tipped the sled over and threw us into a snowbank. The sled went into the water, and the ice closed over it and crunched it into kindling. I think. It was dark, and I didn't care to go out for a closer look. My guess is that what happened to the sled was supposed to happen to us." She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I know this is my fault. I'm the one who talked us into coming. I just didn't think Gask would try anything."
Ross nodded. "Don't blame yourself. I didn't think he would, either." His gaze wandered off toward the trees. "I'm wondering who this attack was directed at." He paused and looked back at her. "Do you see what I mean?"
She kicked at the snow with her boot, her head lowering. "I do. Was Gask after us or Little John?" She thought about it a moment. "Does he know Little John is a gypsy morph, and if he does, would he try to destroy him before finding a way to claim the magic for himself?"
Ross exhaled wearily, his breath clouding the air between them. "Demons can't identify morphs unless a morph is using its magic, and that usually happens only when it's changing shape. Little John hasn't changed since we got here." He frowned doubtfully. "Maybe Gask guessed the truth."
Nest shook her head. "That doesn't feel right. This attack was a kind of broadside intended to take out whoever got in the way. It was indiscriminate." She paused. "Gask warned me what would happen if I tried to help you."
A tired and distraught Bennett came up with Harper, saying the little girl was cold and wanted to go home. Harper stood next to her, looking down at her boots and saying nothing. Nest nodded and suggested they all head back to the house for some much needed hot chocolate.
Tightening collars and scarves against the deepening chill, they walked back across the snowy expanse of the ball diamonds toward Sinnissippi Townhomes, pointing for the lights and the thin trailers of smoke from chimneys illuminated by a mix of street and porch lights reflected off the hazy sky. The last of the car lights trailed out of the park and disappeared. From the direction of the homes bordering the service road, someone called out a name, waited a moment, then slammed a door.