“But why did Wraith protect me this time when he didn’t protect me before?” Nest demanded quickly. “Why didn’t he attack the demon in the park or down in the caves or even in church?”
Pick lifted one forefinger in front of his grainy face and shook it slowly. “Use your brain. Your grandmother wanted to be certain that Wraith didn’t intervene unless it was absolutely necessary. She didn’t want any mistakes, any mix-ups. Wraith wasn’t supposed to protect you unless you tried to protect yourself! Do I need to draw you a picture? It was your magic, Nest! Your grandmother reasoned that you would only use it if you were in the worst kind of danger. Remember how she cautioned you against using it foolishly? Reminded you over and over again, didn’t she? That was because she wanted you to save it for when you really needed it. Think about it! That was the reason for your grandmother’s note! She was admonishing you to stand and fight! If the demon came after you and you summoned up even the littlest part of your magic to save yourself, Wraith would have to help!”
He was animated now, infused with the passion of his certainty. “Oh, I know you would have done so anyway. Sure, I know that. But your grandmother wasn’t taking any chances. It was a clever trap, Nest. Criminy, yes! When Wraith came to your defense, the demon was facing a combination of both his own magic and your grandmother’s. It was too much for him.” He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “That was the sacrifice your grandmother made for you.”
Nest stayed silent, stunned. It was difficult for her to imagine her grandmother doing what Pick had described. But Gran had been her fearless champion, and Nest knew the sylvan was right. Gran had given up her magic and thereby her life for her granddaughter.
She set Pick upon the ground then and bent over John Ross. He was stirring at last, trying to right himself. His pale green eyes fixed on her, and for an instant she saw a mix of despair and resolve that frightened her. He asked what had happened, and she told him. When she was finished, he reached for his staff and levered himself slowly and gingerly to his feet.
“You saved us, Nest,” he said. He brushed at his clothing, a muddied and rumpled scarecrow in the rain-drenched gloom.
“I was worried about you,” she replied softly. “I thought the maentwrog might have …”
She trailed off, unable to finish, and he put his arm around her and held her against him. “I’m sorry this had to happen to you, Nest. I wish it could have been otherwise. But life chooses for us sometimes, and all we can do is accept what happens and try to get through it the best way we can.”
She nodded into his shirt. “It never felt as if he was my father,” she whispered. “It never felt as if he was any part of me.”
“He was part of what’s bad about the world, but a part that happened to be closer to you than most.” Ross stroked her damp hair. “Put it behind you, Nest. It won’t happen all at once, but if you give it a chance, it will go away.”
“I know. I’ll try.” She hugged him gratefully. “I’m just glad you were here to help me.”
There was an uneasy pause. His hand stopped moving in her hair.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He seemed to be thinking it over. “What do you think would have happened, Nest, if your father had touched you?”
She was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know.”
She heard him sigh. “I’m going to tell you something I’ve kept secret until now. I’m going to tell you because you need to know. Because someday the knowledge might save your life.”
His face lowered into her hair. “I dream about the future, Nest. I dream about it every night of my life. I dream about the way things will be if everything breaks down and the feeders consume us. I dream about the end of civilization, the end of the world. The dreams are real, not pretend. It is the price I pay for being a Knight of the Word. It is a reminder of what will happen if I fail. More importantly, it is a window into time that lets me discover exactly what it is I must try to prevent.”