Dreams and Shadows - By C. Robert Cargill Page 0,114

separate the wizard from his friend. If he has done this to you alone, then I can only imagine what the two of them will be able to manage together. For this, I must teach you to use the one gift given you that you do not yet fully understand—a technique as old as the Devil himself. We must bind you together nice and tight with the hatred that makes you whole. Finally, you must use the boy’s own weakness against him.”

“What is that, mistress crone?” asked Knocks.

“That depends; how did you find him before?”

“The girl. The Leanan Sidhe Mallaidh; the two are in love.”

Rhiamon smiled so wide that her face itself began to shed and shrink. Her curves tightened and vanished, she dwindled in size, and her eyes sat large and luminous upon her fifteen-year-old face, filled with unholy joy. “Then you must use his love for the girl. No man has ever known love that he would not foolishly walk into death for.”

“How do we do that?”

“You’re a changeling. You’ll figure it out.” She continued to smile, effervescent and now all of eight years old. “Come, if this is to work I have many things to teach you. But first, we must comb out the beard of each and every goat. Hurry, sunrise approaches.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

THE DWARVEN FORGE

Colby hummed to himself, occasionally mouthing silent lyrics to a song with which Ewan was entirely unfamiliar. The two walked the streets together, heading west, Colby mumbling, taking all manner of turn and side street. At first, it felt as if the two were lost, but Colby walked with purpose, each step determined to get to the next. He knew where he was going, even if he didn’t look it.

“What are you doing?” asked Ewan.

Colby stopped humming. “What?”

“What are you doing? The humming. What is it?”

“It’s complicated.”

“It’s a long walk.”

“I’m trying to remember where this place is.”

“And the humming?”

Colby looked around, speaking as if from rote memory rather than really listening to what he was saying, his attention focused on finding a nearby landmark. “Space and time aren’t so much expanding as they are unfolding. And if you know where the wrinkles and creases in the fabric of the universe are, you can slide down them from one thread to another. People”—he looked squarely at Ewan, paying more attention to what he was saying—“well, fairies mostly, write songs about them. If you know the words and the melody, you can find things that are otherwise hidden to the naked eye. Places like where we’re going now.”

“And where are we going now?” asked Ewan.

“To speak to a man about a sword.”

“What?”

“So to speak,” he said. “A dwarf. A kind of wood spirit. He’s a man, and I wouldn’t really call him anything else.”

“I guess it would be rude to say I’m going to see a dwarf about a sword.”

“You’d think,” said Colby, hinting otherwise.

“It’s not?”

“Dwarves have it easy. They can go out into the world, live a life like anyone else, and disregard any jokes with a withering glance and a comment about insensitivity. Most people won’t ask and try very hard not to stare; even when they’re acting just a little peculiar, they won’t notice that a dwarf’s feet are bent the wrong way or that they have a few too many thumbs. It’s easy to mask the magical behind a veil of politeness. The power of shame is a handy trick in this modern world.”

“So we’re going to see a dwarf.”

“About a sword, yes.”

The two turned a corner, past a thicket of trees, wandering down a long, winding gravel road seemingly leading directly into the middle of nowhere. Trees and brush grew thicker here, as did the light buzzing of cicadas in the air. They were no longer in Austin, a seeping darkness creeping in as the lights of the city faded into the faint orange glow of the clouds.

Half a mile farther up the road, a metal gate wrapped end to end in barbed wire greeted them. NO TRESPASSING. VIOLATORS WILL BE SHOT. Ewan gave Colby a cold but worried look—Should we? Colby nodded—Yes, we should.

The main house wasn’t much farther; just beyond it was a blacksmith’s workshop, a wood-and-steel open-air structure blackened and charred from heavy use. The air smelled thick of smelted metals, and as they walked closer, the two were blasted with blistering heat billowing out from the building. Black smoke choked the air above them, blotting out the night. But the fires were bright and the