Swiftly, the gap closed. There was a crunching of wood as the ice seized the toboggan, trapped it like a toothpick in a giant’s
dark maw, and sealed it away.
Nest took Harper in her arms and soothed her with soft words and a hug, quieting her sobs. Kyle was staring out into the darkness with eyes the size of dinner plates. Little John was staring with him, but with no expression on his face at all.
“Damn!” Robert whispered softly as the last of the terrifying ice sounds died away. “What was that?”
You don’t want to know, Robert, Nest thought in the dark silence of her anger and fear.
CHAPTER 14
They trudged back up the slope from the now empty .A. ice, Nest and Robert herding the children in front of them, no one saying much of anything in the aftermath of the spill. Toboggan runs had been suspended after they went over. Now the slide attendant, a twenty-year park employee named Ray Childress, a man Nest had known since she was a little girl, had dropped the locking bar across the chute, emptied the loading platform of people, and hurried down the hill to find out what had happened. On reaching them, he fell into step beside Robert, warned off of Nest, perhaps, by the look on her face. Robert did his best to explain, but the truth was he didn’t understand either, so the best he could do was improvise and suggest that further runs that night probably weren’t safe and the park service could investigate the matter better in daylight.
Bennett was next on the scene, bounding down the slope in a flurry of arms and legs, snatching up Harper with such force that the little girl cried out.
“Baby, baby, are you all right?” Still hugging and kissing her, she wheeled angrily on Nest. “What did you think you were doing out there? She’s just a little girl! You had no right taking chances with her safety, Nest! I thought I could trust you!”
It was an irrational response, fueled by a mix of fear and self-recrimination. Nest understood. Bennett was an addict, and she viewed everything that happened as being someone else’s fault, all the while thinking deep inside that it was really hers.
“I’m sorry, Bennett,” she replied. “I did the best I could to keep Harper from any danger. It wasn’t something I planned. Anyway, she did very well when we tipped over. She kept her head and held on to me. She was a very brave little girl.”
“Sorry, Mommy,” Harper said softly.
Bennett Scott glanced down at her, and all the anger drained away in a heartbeat. “It’s okay, baby.” She didn’t look up. “Mommy’s sorry, too. She didn’t mean to sound so angry. I was just scared.”
When they arrived at the top of the slope, Ray Childress told those still standing around to go home, that the slide was closed for the evening and would open again tomorrow if things worked out. The adults, already cold and thinking of warmer places, were just as happy, while the kids grumbled a bit before shuffling away, dragging their sleds behind them. Cars started up and began to pull out of the parking lot, headlights slashing through the trees, tires crunching on frozen snow. Flurries blew sideways in a sudden gust of wind, but the snowfall had slowed to almost nothing.
Nest checked the sky for some sign of Pick, but the sylvan had disappeared. Undoubtedly, Findo Gask was gone as well. She chastised herself for being careless, for thinking that the demon wouldn’t dare try anything in a crowd—no, she corrected herself angrily, wouldn’t dare try anything period, because that had been the level of arrogance in her thinking. She had been so stupid! She had believed herself invulnerable to Gask, too seasoned a veteran in the wars of the Word and the Void for him to challenge her, too well protected by the magic of Wraith. Or perhaps it had simply been too long since anything had threatened her, and she had come to believe herself impervious to harm.
“You look like you could chew nails,” Robert said, coming over to stand beside her.