O Night Divine A Holiday Collection of Spirited Christmas Tales - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,5

the fog, disappearing into the mist. Boone began to back up, back into the shadows where he had come from.

“Go,” he said quietly. “If you want to see what the potential could be for their futures, then follow them. They will not hear you or see you, and you cannot help them, so see the results of what you have sowed. If it gives you pleasure, then continue on your present path. But if not, remember these children only know what you teach them. Teach them well, Maxton of Loxbeare, or suffer the future because of it.”

With that, he was gone, faded back into the shadows. Maxton wanted to pursue him, to ask him more questions, but he could hear his daughters out in the stable yard. He wanted to go with them more than he wanted to speak with Boone.

Quietly, he followed.

Part Three

Not Even a Mouse

The fog began to part.

Maxton wasn’t sure where he was but, more and more, it was looking like a castle he’d once visited, one he’d been held hostage in years ago. It had been a dark and terrible place, full of torture and death, and his daughters were heading right for the keep.

They will not see you or hear you, and you cannot help them.

Maxton didn’t like that in the least.

He picked up his pace.

His daughters were moving swiftly, more swiftly than he had ever seen them move. They were agile, too, in a way he’d never known them to be. Ceri in particular; she was the youngest and, frankly, could be clumsy, but she was moving like a cat. She was the first one up the stairs leading into the keep and the first one to face the man that was standing there.

Maxton recognized the man.

One of his closest friends, Kress de Rhydian, was guarding the door. Tall, blond, and extremely powerful, Kress was one of the greatest knights Maxton had ever known. He was also one of the more deadly knights Maxton had ever known and Ceri’s godfather. Before Maxton could say a word, Ceri raised her swords against Kress, who immediately drew a broadsword that was taller than Ceri was and twice as heavy.

Maxton went into a panic.

“Kress!” he boomed. “Nay! Do not strike her!”

Kress either couldn’t hear him or wasn’t listening. He lifted his broadsword just as Ceri charged him, swinging her little swords. She hit Kress hard enough to knock him back and as he stumbled, she climbed on him like a cat climbing a tree. It was both bizarre and fascinating. As Maxton watched in terror, his daughters charged Kress, who found himself swarmed by little girls who were darting around him and on him with unnatural speed.

Kress lost his grip on his sword and he started to throw punches, wrestling with the children who were attacking him. Maxton heard a scream, not realizing that it was his own. He was screaming at the sight of his children in mortal combat. It was Danae who finally tipped the scales, throwing herself into Kress, ramming him until he fell over the side of the stairs and down to the ground below. Somehow, Maxton’s girls had managed not to fall with him and they stood at the broken railing, looking over the side at their handiwork.

Maxton ran to Kress as he lay on the ground, going to aid his friend and apologize for his deadly children, but as he reached Kress, the man suddenly turned to dust and faded into the ground.

Bewildered, Maxton found himself looking at a faint outline of what had once been Kress. He had been horrified watching his sweet, gentle, girl-children attack a full-grown knight. He looked up to the stairs to see that they were gone now, presumably inside. Filled with terror, he followed.

The interior of the keep was dark, quiet. The floors leaned a great deal and he struggled to keep his balance.

“Ceri?” he called. “Melly? Christ, I was told you cannot hear me, but I pray to God that you can. Boone must have been wrong. Ladies? Can you hear me? It’s Dada!”

He was met with silence.

Timidly, he moved forward, clinging to the wall because he couldn’t seem to keep steady. He could hear a child’s laughter echoing somewhere. Looking up, he could see that the keep had no roof. He was looking into a large, open area in the center of the building, with stairwells and doorways in the walls, facing out over the void. It was as if someone had taken