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 I do love you, my gentle human. Do not mourn&  Then the Fae faded to nothing in
Gentle s hands.
 Gentle? his mother asked carefully.
He stood, wincing at the motion. She tried to help him, but he held out his hand to keep
her back.  It s only a deep graze. I ll live.
 Honey, I m so sorry I didn t& 
Gentle gave his parents both a tight hug then tossed the bolt cutters into the truck. The
door closed with a loud slam, and he smiled tightly out the window at them.  Do yourselves a
favor and tell the town that a wild dog got him. No one will believe the truth.
The dust kicked up by the truck s tires didn t hide his parent s tears nearly well enough.
* * * *
Simon didn t wait for an invitation when Gentle pulled up to him on the roadside. He just
jumped into the cab and slammed the door.
 Stealing trucks now? Momma s little boy is growing up. He smirked.
Gentle wasn t ready to joke about it.  Did you know that Chance was Ronan?
Simon shrugged.  I knew he was a Fae form. He was never real, just a twist in your mind
to make you see him. It s an old trick. Knowing that, it wasn t hard to guess which Fae he could
be.
 Did you know that he could tear a man apart in that form?
The grin vanished.  Finally believe you, do they, he made it more of a statement of fact
than a question.
 If he was just in my head, how could he do that?
 A lot of power, Simon mumbled.  He didn t have a lot to spare.
 Fynn hurt him, Gentle explained as they sped toward the carnival.  Fynn stabbed him
when he was Chance. He turned into Ronan in my arms then faded away like nothing.
Simon didn t say anything for a long while.
Finally, Gentle stopped the truck a quarter mile from the carnival, worried that the noise
of the old engine would wake the carnies. He couldn t risk someone catching them, not when
they were so close.
Climbing out with the cutters, he finally noticed Simon s unusual silence and asked.
 What?
 Was the handle black? Simon asked.
 What?
 The knife Fynn used to stab him, was the handle black?
 Yes. He nodded as they walked.  What does that mean?
 You didn t read many Faerie stories as a kid, did you? Simon growled.  It really
doesn t matter which half is black, but you humans misheard the advice as black hafted, so most
men in the business of killing Fae carry one with a black handle. We may be too late.
Gentle didn t wait for Simon to explain any further. He ran, fast as he could, toward the
dark shapes of the carnival tents. There wasn t a single sound as he crossed into the ring the
carnival had marked out for itself. All the carnies had been asleep for a while.
Ronan s blue and white tent sat undisturbed in the shadows, its door flaps closed and
occupant silent. Gentle had never feared peace so much. Inside the tent was even worse. The Fae
lay motionless in the center.
 Ronan! Gentle whispered urgently.
Ronan didn t respond. He didn t even try to move. A trickle of blood trailed out from
him, from the same spot he d been stabbed as Chance. It stained the wood and looked so final.
Like Ronan s spirit may have taken that little bloody path to a place Gentle would never be able
to follow.
 Don t do this! he pleaded urgently, keeping his voice as soft as he could.  I
remembered. I just got you back! You can t leave me& 
A soft huff of breath escaped the prisoner, and Gentle put his arm through the bars and
clasped the fallen creature s hand. It was cold as ice, but twitched slightly at his touch.
 I ll get you. Hold on.
The thick click of the bolt cutters severing the lock was loud in the silent tent, and Gentle
flinched, glancing around in alarm. When no one responded to the sound, he slipped the lock free
and pried open the cage. The door had not been opened in hundreds of years. It squealed
alarmingly at the hinges.
Gentle gathered the battered and weakened Fae into his arms quickly.  Be strong, I m
getting you out of here.
The small figure released a soft groan and shifted against him. The child s body
elongated and filled out. The skin took on a more unnatural kind of pallor and the hair a deep
blackness. The Fae hadn t even enough energy left to keep his human disguise.
 Hold on, Gentle begged and shouldered the tent flap open.
A blow to his cheek caught him by surprise. He stumbled sideways and only just
managed to twist so that Ronan landed on top of him, and not under him, when he fell hard to the
ground.
 Now then. A carnie stood over him, ticking a long metal cane back and forth in his
hands.
Short and redheaded, Gentle remembered him. It was James, the man he d hidden from
as a child. The man who d hurt Ronan, spit on him. He was older, but the cane was the same, and
so was the smile. It still made Gentle want to hide. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]