A Knight Of The Word

Ariel’s body shimmered, and her eyes blinked slowly, flower petals opening to the sun. “He has been warned. But the warning was ignored. John Ross no longer trusts us. He no longer listens. He believes himself free to do as he chooses. He is a prisoner of his self-deception.”


Nest thought about John Ross, picturing him in her mind. She saw a lean, raw-boned, careworn man with haunted eyes and a rootless existence. But she saw a fiercely determined man as well, hardened of purpose and principle, a man who would not be easily swayed. She could not imagine how the Void would turn him. She remembered the strength of his commitment; he would die before he would betray it.

Yet he had already given it up, hadn’t he? By shedding his identity as a Knight of the Word, he had given it up. She knew the truth of things. People changed. Lives took strange turns.

“The Lady sent me to ask you to go to John Ross and warn him one final time.”

Ariel’s words jarred her. Nest stared in disbelief. “Me? Why would he listen to me?”

“The Lady says you hold a special place in his heart.” Ariel said it in a matter-of-fact way, as if Nest ought to know what this would mean. “She believes that John Ross will listen to you, that he trusts and respects you, and that you have the best chance of persuading him of the danger he faces.”

Nest shook her head stubbornly. “I wouldn’t know what to say. I’m not the right choice for this.” She hesitated. “Look, the truth is, I’m not even sure how I feel about John Ross. Where is he, anyway?”

“Seattle.”

“Seattle? You want me to go all the way out to Seattle?” Nest was aghast. “I’m in school! I’ve got classes tomorrow!”

Ariel stared at her in silence, and suddenly Nest was aware of how foolish she sounded. The tatterdemalion was telling her John Ross was in danger, his life was at risk, she might have a chance to help him, and she was busy worrying about missing a few classes. It was more than that, of course, but it hadn’t come out sounding that way.

“This is a lot of nonsense!” Pick stormed suddenly, leaping to his feet on her shoulder. “Nest Freemark is needed here, with me! Who knows what could happen to her out there! After what she went through with her father, she shouldn’t have to go anywhere!”

“Pick, relax,” Nest soothed.

“Criminy!” Pick was not about to relax. “Why can’t the Lady go herself? Why can’t she speak to Ross? She’s the one who recruited him, isn’t she? Why can’t she send one of her other people, another Knight, maybe?”

“She has already done all she could.” Ariel answered, her strange voice calm and distant, her slight form ephemeral in the changing light. “She has sent others to speak for her. He ignores them all. He is lost to himself, locked away by his choice to abandon his charge, and given over to his doom.” Her childlike hand gestured. “There is only Nest.”

“Well, she’s not going!” Pick declared firmly. “So that’s it for John Ross, I guess. Thanks for coming, but I think you’d better be on your way.”

“Pick!” Nest admonished, surprised at his vehemence. “Be nice, will you?” She looked at Ariel. “What happens if I don’t go?” she asked.

Ariel’s strange eyes, dear as stream water, locked on her own. “John Ross has had a dream. The events of the dream will occur in three days. On the last day of October. On Halloween, Ross will be a part of these events. To the extent that he is, there is a very great chance he will become ensnared by the Void and will begin to turn. The Lady cannot know this for certain, but she suspects it. She will not let that happen. She has already sent someone to see that it doesn’t.”

Nest felt a chill sweep through her. Like she sent Ross to me, five years ago. If Ross is subverted, he will be killed. Someone has been sent to see to it.

“You are his last chance,” Ariel said again. “Will you go to him? Will you speak to him? Will you try to save him?”

Her thin voice drifted on the autumn breeze and was lost in a rustle of dry leaves.



Nest walked back through the park, lost in thought. Pick rode her shoulder in silence. The afternoon was lengthening out from midday, and the park was busy with fall picnickers, hikers, a few stray pickup ballplayers, and parents with kids and dogs. The blue skies were still bright with sunshine, but the sun was easing steadily west toward a large bank of storm clouds that were rolling out of the plains. Nest could smell the coming rain in the soft, cool air.

“What are you going to do?” Pick asked finally.

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“You’re seriously thinking about going, aren’t you?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

“Well, you should forget about it right here and now.”

“Why do you feel so strongly about this?” She slowed in the shadow of a large oak and looked down at him. “What do you know that you’re not telling me?”

Pick’s wooden face twisted in an expression of distaste, and his twiggy body contorted into a knot. His eyes looked straight ahead. “Nothing.”