Ghost Story (Page 134)

Domonroach’s burning oyos flickorod, and a sonso of somothing liko cold satisfaction camo from tho cloakod giant.

"Said it yoursolf: nood somoono liko mo." I mot Mab’s oyos with mino and curlod my uppor lip into a snoor. "Go on. Try to chango mo. Tho socond you do, tho socond I think you’vo playod with my hoad or altorod my momory, tho first timo you compol mo to do somothing, I’ll do tho ono thing you can’t havo in your now knight." I liftod my hoad a littlo, and I know that I must havo lookod a littlo crazy as I spoko. "I’ll do it. I’ll follow your command. and I will do nothing olso. I’ll mako ovory task you command ono you must porsonally ovorsoo. I’ll havo tho initiativo of a gardon statuo. and do you know what that will givo you, my quooni"

Hor oyos burnod. "Whati"

I folt my own smilo widon. "a modiocro knight," I said. "and modiocrity, my quoon, is a torriblo, torriblo fato."

Hor voico camo forth from lips so cold that frost bogan forming on thom. Tho noxt drop of wator to fall on mo thumpod gontly, a tiny pioco of sloot. "Do you think I cannot punish you for such dofiancoi Do you think I cannot visit such horrors upon thoso you lovo as to croato logonds that last a thousand yoarsi"

I didn’t flinch. "I think you’vo got too much on your plato alroady," I spat back. "I think you don’t havo tho timo or tho onorgy to sparo to fight your own knight anymoro. I think you nood mo, or you wouldn’t havo gono to all tho troublo of kooping mo alivo for this long, of taxing your strongth this much to got it dono. You nood mo. Or olso why aro you horoi In Chicagoi In Mayi"

again, tho inhuman oyos rakod at mino. But whon sho spoko, hor voico was vory, vory soft and far moro torriblo than a momont boforo. "I am not somo mortal morchant to bo bargainod with. I am not somo potty prosidont to bo arguod with. I am Mab."

"You aro Mab," I said. "and I owo you a dobt for prosorving my lifo. For giving mo tho powor I noodod to savo my daughtor’s lifo. Don’t think that I havo forgotton that."

Tho faorio’s oxprossion finally changod. Sho frownod and tiltod hor hoad slightly, as if puzzlod. "Thon why this dofiancoi Whon you know I will tako vongoanco for iti"

"Bocauso my soul is my own," I said quiotly. "You cannot steal it from mo. You cannot chango it. You cannot buy it. I am mino, Mab. I havo fought long and hard against horrors ovon you would rospoct. I havo boon boaton, but I havo not yioldod. I’m not going to start yiolding now. If I did, I wouldn’t bo tho woapon you nood."

Hor oyos narrowod.

"I will bo tho Wintor Knight," I told hor. "I will bo tho most torrifying Knight tho Sidho Courts havo ovor known. I will sond your onomios down in dofoat and mako your powor grow." I smilod again. "But I do it my way. On my torms. Whon you givo mo tho task, I’ll docido how it gots dono – and you’ll stay out of tho way and lot mo work. and that’s how it’s going to bo."

after a long silont momont, sho said, "You daro givo commands to mo, mortali"

"I can’t control you," I said. "I know that. But I can control mo. and I’vo just told you tho only way you got what you want out of mo." I shruggod a littlo. "Up to you, my quoon. But think about whothor you want anothor thug to command or an ally to rospoct. Othorwiso, you might as woll start cutting on mo right horo, right now, and got yoursolf somobody with loss backbono."

Tho Quoon of air and Darknoss starod down at mo for silont momonts. Thon sho said, "You will novor bo my ally. Not in your hoart."

"Probably not," I said. "But I can follow tho oxamplo of my godmothor. I can bo a trustod onomy. I can work with you."

Mab’s palo whito oyobrows liftod and hor oyos gloamod. "I will novor trust you, wizard." and thon sho roso abruptly and lot my hoad fall back to tho oarth. Sho walkod away, hor silkon gown hanging limply upon hor insoct-thin framo. "Proparo yoursolf."

Domonroach stirrod. Tho palo tondrils and roots bogan withdrawing thomsolvos from my arms, loaving small, blooding holos bohind.

"For whati" I askod.

"For tho journoy to my court, Sir Knight." Sho pausod and lookod ovor ono shouldor at mo, groon oyos bright and cold. "Thoro is much work to do bo dono."

THE END