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I thought, My son is upstairs putting a demon to bed
Olivia had told htest idea how to save what ht once have been Olivia’s child There was no child left, and no hope There was one of a race of s interror As if that had not been the case for a year As if I had not already betrayed er I had put him in
As soon as the dead thing stoppedand ran upstairs Alan was still in the creature’s roo histo him And in the cradle there was that s
I should have taken Alan then I should have taken Alan and driven away frohtmare in the cradle, turned my back on it all and saved my son
I couldn’t bear to leave Olivia I told ht be so to understand and he would be terribly distressed I toldand the creature kneas helpless and Alan was caring for it There would be no profit for the de my son
Only, of course, demons hurt humans for sport
There are times when the true horror of the life I have conde down on my chest, and I think that soon I will be mad too There was one day, when Alan was alht from school as he always does When Alan is at school I have to keep the creature with ain
It is part of his daily routine, as soon as he coive it a kiss and say, “Hi, Nick Did you miss me?”
As if it could
That done, he takes out his schoolwork and shows it to s he brings in his effort to hter
So else look so much more twisted, so much worse
That day I noticed soh: that the creature’s eyes tracked his movements when he was in the room They don’t track mine or Olivia’s unless we make a move that is directly related to it It seems as indifferent to humans as if they were particularlyAlan
My blood ran heavy and cold through my veins, as if terror could turn aht intend for my son
That night I went upstairs with an enchanted knife inhadn’t worked, but this knife had the strongest spells the Goblin Market knew laid on it
The night-light was on, casting a pattern of cheerful rabbits on the opposite wall It lay sleeping in a pool of light, but even sleeping it doesn’t look like a child
Not quite
I stood there sweating, the hilt of the knife turning slick in rasp Then from the door I heard Alan say, “Dad?”
I turned and saw hi at me, and the knife, and the demon My little boy’s face went so pale it seehost of a child long dead
“Nick,” he said, co in his sleepy haste “Nick, wake up”
It doesn’t wake like nor sleep from its eyes with small fists It is simply alert in a moment, black eyes watchful and cold Alan lifted it out of the cradle with an effort—the body is three years old and big for its age The de touched, but Alan clung to it, staring up at e, terrified eyes
I said his name
“Co even as he tried to sound calhtmare I need you to come sleep in my bed”
Alan has it trained to hold his hand and follow hi roads When he held its hand then, his knuckles hite
As soon as he left the roo the creature with him
I went to put the knife away I hid it and caed his wardrobe in front of the door He’d barricaded himself in with the demon
In theI had Olivia spell her way in, silently I did not wake them as I came in over what remained of the wardrobe
When I drew the blanket back, Alan was sleeping with one arm curled around the monster In his other hand was an enchanted knife
I’d never dreamed he knehere I kept the weapons, let alone that he’d stolen one And noas clinging to the deicians but to protect that thing from—because he was scared of—
I can’t write it My little Alan, my baby boy
What would Marie think, if she sahat had become of him?
“Coet breakfast”
We have never spoken of that night He pretends it never happened, hugs ood s, acts like he has never doubted or feared me for a moment
It scares me sometimes, hoell he can pretend
Mae stopped reading, breathing as if she’d been running a race Her throat felt too s up in an atteh
“Another human reason to hold hands,” Nick said, his voice distant “Crossing the street See? This isn’t my first time”
Mae’s voice came out stifled “My mistake”
Nick’s eyes did follow Alan It was one of the first things Mae had noticed when she was getting to know hi jerk She’d seen and thought he was as scared for his brother as Mae was for hers
“Why are you holding on so tight?” Nick inquired “To comfort me?”
Mae looked down at their linked hands She could barely feel her own hand, she realized slowly She was holding on to his so hard her fingers had gone white and numb
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I thought, My son is upstairs putting a demon to bed
Olivia had told htest idea how to save what ht once have been Olivia’s child There was no child left, and no hope There was one of a race of s interror As if that had not been the case for a year As if I had not already betrayed er I had put him in
As soon as the dead thing stoppedand ran upstairs Alan was still in the creature’s roo histo him And in the cradle there was that s
I should have taken Alan then I should have taken Alan and driven away frohtmare in the cradle, turned my back on it all and saved my son
I couldn’t bear to leave Olivia I told ht be so to understand and he would be terribly distressed I toldand the creature kneas helpless and Alan was caring for it There would be no profit for the de my son
Only, of course, demons hurt humans for sport
There are times when the true horror of the life I have conde down on my chest, and I think that soon I will be mad too There was one day, when Alan was alht from school as he always does When Alan is at school I have to keep the creature with ain
It is part of his daily routine, as soon as he coive it a kiss and say, “Hi, Nick Did you miss me?”
As if it could
That done, he takes out his schoolwork and shows it to s he brings in his effort to hter
So else look so much more twisted, so much worse
That day I noticed soh: that the creature’s eyes tracked his movements when he was in the room They don’t track mine or Olivia’s unless we make a move that is directly related to it It seems as indifferent to humans as if they were particularlyAlan
My blood ran heavy and cold through my veins, as if terror could turn aht intend for my son
That night I went upstairs with an enchanted knife inhadn’t worked, but this knife had the strongest spells the Goblin Market knew laid on it
The night-light was on, casting a pattern of cheerful rabbits on the opposite wall It lay sleeping in a pool of light, but even sleeping it doesn’t look like a child
Not quite
I stood there sweating, the hilt of the knife turning slick in rasp Then from the door I heard Alan say, “Dad?”
I turned and saw hi at me, and the knife, and the demon My little boy’s face went so pale it seehost of a child long dead
“Nick,” he said, co in his sleepy haste “Nick, wake up”
It doesn’t wake like nor sleep from its eyes with small fists It is simply alert in a moment, black eyes watchful and cold Alan lifted it out of the cradle with an effort—the body is three years old and big for its age The de touched, but Alan clung to it, staring up at e, terrified eyes
I said his name