Ross looked off into the trees. Tell her. His hands tightened on the staff. “If I destroy the feeders, I reveal myself.” He looked back at her. “I let people know what I am. When that happens, I am compromised. Worse, I weaken myself. I don’t have unlimited power. I have … only so much. Every time I use it, I leave myself exposed. If the demon finds me like that, he will destroy me. I have to be patient, to wait, to choose my time. Ideally, I will only have to use my power once-when I have the demon before me.”
He felt trapped by his words. “Pick must have told you about the feeders. The feeders are only here because of us. They react to us, to us as humans. They feed on our emotions, on our behavior. They grow stronger or weaker depending on how we behave. The Word made them to be a reflection of us. If we behave well, we diminish them. If we behave badly, we strengthen them. Give them too much to feed on and they devour us. But they’re not subject to the same laws as we are. They don’t have life in the same way we do; they don’t have substance. They creep around in the shadows and come out with any release of the dark that’s inside us. I can burn them all to ash, but they will just come back again, born out of new emotions, new behavior. Do you understand?”
The girl nodded dubiously. “Are they everywhere, everywhere in the world?”
“Yes.”
“But aren’t there more in places where things are worse? In places where the people are killing each other, killing their children?”
“Yes.”
“Then why aren’t you there? What are you doing here, in this little, insignificant Midwestern town? No one is dying here. Nothing is happening here!” Her voice rose. “What is so important about Hopewell?”
Ross did not look away, dared not. “I can’t answer that. I go where I’m sent. Right now, I’m tracking the demon. I’m here because of him. I know that something pivotal is going to take place, something that will affect the future, and I have to stop it. I know it seems incredible that anything occurring in a tiny place like Hopewell could have such an impact. But we know how history works. Cataclysms are set in motion by small events in out-of-the-way places. Maybe that’s what’s happening.”
She studied him fixedly. “It has something to do with me, doesn’t it?”
Tell her! “It looks that way,” he hedged.
She waited a moment, then said,