Nest caught sight of Daniel then, a dark shadow as he swooped down from the trees just long enough to catch her attention before wheeling away again.
“There, girl!” Pick shouted needlessly in her ear.
She raced in pursuit of the barn owl, following his lead, heading for the cliffs. She ran through the burial mounds, low, grassy hummocks clustered at the edge of the roadway. Ahead, the road ended in a turnaround at the park’s highest point. That was where she would find Bennett. Unless … She brushed the word aside, refusing to concede that it applied. A rush of bitterness toward Enid Scott tightened her throat. It wasn’t fair that she left Jared alone to watch his brothers and sisters. Enid knew about his condition; she just found it convenient now and then to pretend it didn’t matter. A mild form of epilepsy, the attacks could last for as long as five minutes. When they came, Jared would just “go away” for a bit, staring off into space, not seeing or hearing, not being aware of anything. Even the medicine he took couldn’t always prevent the attacks. His mother knew that. She knew.
The trees opened before her, and Daniel dove out of the shadows, streaking for the cliffs. Nest put on a new burst of speed, nearly unseating Pick. She could see Bennett Scott now, standing at the very edge of the cliffs, just beyond the turnaround, a small, solitary figure against the night sky, all hunched over and crying. Nest could hear her sobs. The feeders were cajoling her, enticing her, trying to cloud her thinking further so that she would take those last few steps. Nest was angry. Bennett made the seventh child hi a month. She had saved them all, but how long could her luck hold?
Daniel started down, then arced away soundlessly. It was too dangerous for him to go in; his unexpected presence might startle the little girl and cause her to lose her balance. That was why Pick relied on Nest. A young girl’s appearance was apt to prove far less unsettling than his own or Daniel’s.
She slowed to a walk, dropping Pick off in the grass. No point in taking chances; Pick preferred to remain invisible anyway. The scent of pine trees wafted on the humid night air, carried out of the cemetery beyond, where the trees grew in thick clumps along the chain-link fence. In the moonlight, the headstones and monuments were just visible, the granite and marble reflecting with a shimmery cast. She took several deep breaths as she came up to Bennett, moving slowly, carefully into the light. The feeders saw her coming and their lantern eyes narrowed. She ignored them, focusing her attention on the little girl.
“Hey, tiny Ben Ben!” She kept her voice casual, relaxed. “It’s me, Nest.”
Bennett Scott’s tear-filled eyes blinked rapidly. “I know.”
“What are you doing out here, Ben Ben?”
“Looking for my mommy.”
“Well, I don’t think she’s out here, sweetie.” Nest moved a few steps closer, glancing about as if looking for Enid.
“She’s lost,” Bennett sobbed.
A few of the feeders edged menacingly toward Nest, but she ignored them. They knew better than to mess with her while Wraith was around-which she fervently hoped he was. A lot of them were gathered here, though. Flat-faced and featureless, squat caricatures of humans, they were as much a mystery to her now as ever, even after all she had learned about them from Pick. She didn’t really even know what they were made of. When she had asked Pick about it once, he had told her with a sardonic grin that as a rule you are mostly what you eat, so the feeders could be almost anything.
“I’ll bet your mommy is back home by now, Ben Ben,” she offered, infusing her voice with enthusiasm. “Why don’t we go have a look?”
The little girl sniffled. “I don’t want to go home. I don’t like it there anymore.”
“Sure you do. I’ll bet Jared wonders where you are.”
“Jared’s sick. He had an attack.”
“Well, he’ll be better by now. The attacks don’t last long, sweetie. You know that. Come on, let’s go see.”