O Night Divine A Holiday Collection of Spirited Christmas Tales - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,8

thick in his chest, wondering how he was going to stop them. The entire situation was so very odd. Susanna had seen him, as had Boone, but Kress and Achilles hadn’t. As he followed his daughters to another stairwell that led to yet another floor, he could hear the faint sounds of a baby crying.

That seemed to make his daughters move faster.

They were running in front of him and he seemed to be lagging. He struggled up the slick, stone stairs until he came to the next level.

They were back in the stable again.

It was the same place they had started, only this time, there was a man and woman there, looking into a manger where a baby lay, swaddled. There were cows and sheep and an ass, and Maxton came to a halt, looking around in confusion as his children headed for the manger.

But then something strange happened.

The ass attacked Danae, kicking her into the shadows. Maxton could hear her yelp. Next, the ram charged Melisandra and they had a terrible battle before the sheep was able to toss her out of a window. As his middle daughter went flying, a bull raced at Ceri, the littlest, who wrestled fiercely with the bull before it tossed her onto its back and ran off. Maxton didn’t even see where it went, only that it had vanished.

As he stood there, open-mouthed and sick, the man who had been sitting next to the manger suddenly stood up.

Maxton found himself looking at his mirror image.

“Is this what you had in mind, Max?” the image asked.

Maxton was at a loss. He was disoriented and ill. “Nay,” he said after a moment. “This is not what I want for my girls. I only thought… I was entertaining them with stories. I was telling them things that I had done. I was trying to bring them into my world.”

The image shook his head. “They do not belong in your world,” he said. “Your world was a dark and terrible place before you met your wife. Now, you have what every man wishes he had – a beautiful family with adoring, bright children.”

Maxton was starting to tear up. “I am the most fortunate man alive, I know.”

The image smiled faintly. “You have been given the greatest gift of all, Maxton,” he said. “You are loving and generous, but you must also be wise and give them guidance. Those stories you tell them… they bring darkness into that wonderful world. You are introducing evil into something pure. If you must tell those stories, then save them for your sons, and only when they grow older.”

Maxton sniffed, wiping at his eyes. “I only have one son.”

“For now.”

Maxton looked at his imagine strangely. “How would you know?”

The image grinned. “Because I do,” he said. “I see many things. I see a man before me who needs some guidance on how his daughters should be raised. They are girl-children, delicate and sweet. Treat them as such. If you do not understand that, then what you have seen is only a taste of what will come. Is this the future you want?”

Maxton shook his head. “Nay,” he said firmly. “Not my babies. Not my daughters. It would destroy me.”

“Then remember this moment.”

As he said it, the wall to the stable suddenly collapsed and Maxton turned to see his daughters fighting off an entire army of men Maxton swore he recognized from his past. It took him a moment to realize they were men he’d been forced to eliminate at one time or another, men who had fallen to his sword in battle or another circumstance.

At least, he thought that was who they were.

They were overwhelming his children.

Maxton’s panic swamped him.

“Nay!” he roared, rushing in their direction just as one warrior leveled his sword at Ceri’s head. Maxton had never felt such fear. “God, I’m sorry! I am sorry for my sins and I swear I will try harder! I will strive to do better, but God… please, do not let my children be harmed! Ceri!”

Everything abruptly went black before he could reach her.

Part Four

And to All a Good Night

Maxton found himself sitting up in his bed.

Groggy, disoriented, he looked around and realized that he was in the bedchamber he shared with Andressa. The chamber was dark and shadowed, with a low fire burning in the hearth. Everything was recognizable and comforting. With that awareness, he put his hands over his face in relief. Next to him, Andressa sat up amidst the disarray