Larry went cold and hot in rapid sequence, and suddenly all he wanted to do was to get the hell out of there as quickly as he could. But he knew it was too late, that he couldn’t, that he was trapped as surely as if Robinson was holding the gun on him.
“Oh, my God,” he breathed softly.
His hand was frozen. Suddenly terrified, he tried to pull the trigger, but his fingers refused to work. Robinson came forward, took the gun out of his hand, and slipped it back into its holster. Larry couldn’t do anything to stop him. Nothing. He was paralyzed by the buzzing in his ears and the throbbing in his head and by a cold certainty that he was completely helpless. He stood in front of Robinson with his hands empty and his options all used up. He wanted to scream, but he couldn’t. Tears leaked from his eyes, and his big frame shook as he ., began to cry. “Please,” he begged, unable to help himself. “Please.”
Robinson smiled, but his smile held no warmth.
Silence.
Nest stood paralyzed in the frigid darkness at the edge of Sinnissippi Park, trying desperately to regain her scattered thoughts. The enormity of what had just happened threatened to overwhelm her. She had lost Wraith! Somehow, some way, she had lost him. She hadn’t meant to do so, hadn’t even suspected it was possible. It was true that he had emerged from her body only a handful of times since he had taken up residence, but there had never been any indication that he might break free. She felt empty and bereft in a way she had never expected. She saw all her hopes of saving the children from the demons drifting away on the backs of snowflakes.
What had she done?
For a long time, she just stood there, unable to move, trying to decide what she should do. She couldn’t go back into the house. She had to find Wraith and get him back under her control. She had to! She stared out at the black-and-white expanse of the park and realized how hopeless her task was. Wraith could move so much faster than she could. He would never be found if he didn’t wish it. She could search forever, and she wouldn’t even see him. He didn’t even have to outrun her. He could simply disappear, the way he did when she was little. He could vanish as completely as last summer’s warmth, and she had no way to bring him out again.
Despair staggered her; it left her frantic. She held on only through sheer force of will. She could not afford to give in to what she was feeling. If she did, there would be no chance for any of them.
Then a shadow soared out of the darkness ahead, gliding smooth and silent through the falling snow, materializing from out of the tangled limbs and trunks of the trees. She recognized Jonathan, great wings stretched wide, and as he drew closer, she saw Pick astride him. Grasping at the faint hope the sylvan’s appearance offered, she detached herself from the shadows. Jonathan swept past her, circled back around, passed over her again, but closer this time, and suddenly Pick was standing on her shoulder.
“Criminy, what are you doing out in this weather?” he demanded disgustedly. But there was concern in his voice as well; he knew something wasn’t right.
“Oh, Pick, everything’s gone wrong!” she blurted out, cupping her gloved hands so he could jump down into them.
He did so, grumbling vehemently. “I thought as much when I felt a disturbance in the magic of the park, and there was Wraith, running through the deep woods as if possessed. Hah, which I guess he is, in a manner of speaking!”
She started. “You saw Wraith? Where is he? Why isn’t he with you?”
“Would you settle down?” he snapped, putting up his twiggy hands defensively. “Since when am I in charge of keeping track of Wraith? What do I look like, anyway? He’s your pet!”
“He broke away from me!” she exclaimed. “I sent him into the park to find you, and he broke away! Why would he do that? He’s gone, and I don’t know how to get him back!”