Ross met his frank gaze with a weary, distant look. He seemed to weigh the matter a moment before answering. “I think you deserve that much, Mr. Freemark.”
Nest’s grandfather nodded. Nest stepped back so that she could see them both, sensing the start of something that was not going to end pleasantly.
“Well, there’s this business of the man who’s been poisoning trees in the park.” Robert Freemark cleared his throat. “Nest’s friends told me about him when they came by to ask for my help in finding her.” Quickly, he told John Ross what had happened. “They said she sent them first in search of you, making it pretty clear, I think, that you know about this man, too.”
He paused, waiting. John Ross glanced at Nest. “I know about him. I came to Hopewell because I was tracking him.”
“Tracking him?”
“It’s what I do.”
“You track people? Are you with the police? Are you a law-enforcement officer?”
Ross shook his head. “I work on my own.”
Nest’s grandfather stared. “Are you telling me, John, that you are a private detective? Or a bounty hunter?”
“Something else.”
There was a long pause as Nest’s grandfather studied the other man, hands resting loosely on his hips. “Did you know my daughter Caitlin at all, John? Was any of that true?”
“I knew of her, but I didn’t know her personally. I didn’t go to school with her. We weren’t classmates. I’m sorry, I made that up. I needed to meet you. More to the point, I needed to meet Nest.”
Another pause, longer this time. “Why, John?”
“Because while I didn’t know Nest’s mother, I do know her father.”
Now Nest was staring hard at him, too, a look of horror spreading over her face. She swallowed against the sudden ache in her throat and looked quickly at her grandfather. Old Bob’s face was pale. “Maybe you better just spit it out,” he said.
John Ross nodded, bringing the black staff around in front of him so that he could lean on it, as if the talk was wearing on him in unseen ways. He looked down at his shoes momentarily, then directly at Nest.
“I’m sorry, Nest, this is going to hurt a lot. I wish I didn’t have to tell you, but I do. I hope you’ll understand.” He looked back at her grandfather. “There’s a lot of talk about how your wife died, sir. Some people are saying she was a crazy old woman who died shooting at ghosts. I don’t think that’s true. I think she was shooting at the man I’ve been tracking, the man I came here to find. She was trying to defend herself. But he is a very resourceful and dangerous adversary, and she wasn’t strong enough to stop him. He’s caused a lot of trouble and pain, and he’s not finished. He came to Hopewell for a very specific purpose. He doesn’t realize it yet, but I know what that purpose is.”
Nest took a deep breath as his green eyes shifted back to hers. “He’s come for you. Your grandmother knew. That made her a threat to him, so he got rid of her.”
His gaze was steady. “He’s your father, Nest.”
In his dream, the Knight of the Word stands with a ragged band of survivors atop a wooded rise south of the burning city. Men have devoted such enormous time and energy to destroying themselves that they are exhausted from their efforts, and now the demons and the once-men have picked up the slack. At first it was the tented camps and nomads who were prey, but of late the attacks have shifted to the walled cities. The weakest have begun to fall and the nature of the adversary to make itself known. The
Knight has battled the demons all through the destruction of the old world, confronting them at every opportunity, trying to slow the erosion of civilization. But the tide is inexorable and undi-minished, and a new dark age has descended.
The Knight looks around to be certain that the women and children are being led to safety while he acts as sentry. Most have already disappeared into the night, and the rest are fading with the swiftness of ghosts. Only a few remain behind to stand with him, a handful of those who have discovered too late that he is not the enemy. Below, the city bums with an angry crackle. Hordes of captives are being led away, those who did not flee when there was time, who did not heed his warning. The Knight closes his eyes against the sadness and despair that wells within him. It does not change. He cannot make them listen. He cannot make them believe.