A Knight Of The Word

“You said something’s happened,” she prodded, studying his face.

He nodded. “Fresh Start burned down last night. Ray Hapgood was killed. They made a positive identification this morning.” His voice sounded stiff and uncomfortable. “Ray was working the night shift for me, it turns out. I didn’t know this. I didn’t even know I was scheduled to work it this week. I don’t know why I didn’t know, but that’s the least of what’s bothering me.” He shook his head. “Ray was a good friend. I’m having a lot of trouble with that.”

“When did this happen?” she asked right away. “What time, I mean?”

“Sometime after midnight. I was asleep. Stef woke me, got me up to take a look out the window, to make sure of what she was seeing. We called 911, then rushed over to wake the people in the building. Stef went all the way to the top floor. She got everyone out but Ray.”

Nest barely listened to him as he filled in the details, her mind occupied with working out the logistics of the demon’s movements between Lincoln Park and Pioneer Square. It couldn’t have been both places at once if the events happened concurrently, but there was an obvious gap in time between when it was chasing her and when it would have set the fire. It would have had to rush right back after she had escaped, but it could have done so.

But why would it bother setting fire to Fresh Start? What reason could it possibly have for doing that?

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said suddenly. “I’ve been thinking it, too. But the fire marshall’s office says the fire started because of frayed or faulty wiring in the furnace system. It wasn’t arson.”

“You mean, they don’t have any evidence it was arson,” she said.

He studied her carefully. “All right. I don’t believe it was an accident either. But why would a demon set fire to Fresh Start?”

Same question she was asking herself. She shook her head. The waitress returned to take their order and left again. Nest tried to think the matter through, to discover what it was she had missed, because her instincts told her she had missed something.

“You said on the phone you’d been thinking about what I told you,” she said finally. “You said that maybe you were wrong. What made you change your mind? It wasn’t just the fire, was it? It must have been something else.” She paused. “You said you came over because you thought maybe something had happened to me. Why did you think that?”

He looked decidedly uncomfortable, but there was a hard determination reflected in his eyes. “Do you remember the dream I told you about?”

“I remember you didn’t exactly tell me about it at all.”

He nodded. “I didn’t think it was necessary then. I do now.”

She studied him silently, considering what this meant. It couldn’t be good. “All right,” she said. “Tell me.”



Her face was so battered and scraped that it was all he could do to keep his voice steady. He could not help feeling responsible, as if by having had last night’s dream he had set in motion the events prophesied for today. He wanted to know what had happened to her, but he knew she would not tell him until she was satisfied he was reconsidering his position on the Lady’s warning. He felt a sense of desperation grip him as he began his narrative, a growing fear that he could not accomplish what he had come here to do.

“I’ve been having this dream for several months,” he began. “It’s always the same dream, and it’s the only dream I ever have. That’s never happened to me before. For a long time after I stopped being a Knight of the Word, there were no dreams — not of the sort I used to have, just snippets of the sort everyone has. So when I began having this dream, I wars surprised. It was the same dream, but it changed a little every time, showing me a little bit more of what was to happen.