Fine. But what was he to do about not knowing any of the particulars of his mission? How was he to come to terms with the fact that he must accept so much on faith? What was it going to take for him to be at peace with the inexplicable and unknowable behavioral characteristics that were charting his decision making as surely as ocean currents would a rudderless ship’s course?
And what of his uncertainty about himself? His surprising use of magic in the face of obstacles hindering their passage was a case in point. His ability to heal both Cheney and Logan Tom when death might have claimed them was another.
Now this. The waiting.
He was waiting for Logan Tom to return with the Elves, even though he had no way of knowing when that would happen or even if it would happen at all. He was acting on faith. Logan Tom would come, and he would bring what was needed. How did he know? He just did.
Even more troublesome was his reluctance to move the camp.
Even though that creature the Ghosts had encountered in the mountains had followed them here and was preying on the children, he could not allow them to leave. Would not. Why? Because his instincts told him it wasn’t time, that he must stay where he was until moving felt right.
It was difficult to explain. It was nothing more than a sense of what was needed, but the sense was very strong and very certain. He hadn’t experienced it before going into the Gardens of Life and encountering the King of the Silver River, but now it was such a dominant presence that he could not go against it. He had felt it surface within him the moment he had returned from the gardens and prepared to set out with Tessa to find the Ghosts. It hadn’t left him since; it was a voice that whispered to him soundlessly and ruled his decision making with an iron hand. He wished it were otherwise, wished he could bargain with it or simply ignore it, but he knew . . .
“Hawk!”
The sound of his name snapped him out of his reverie and brought him about to face Angel Perez. She walked toward him purposefully, her face reflecting an unmistakable determination. He knew at once what she was going to say.
She stopped in front of him. “We lost two more children this morning. How much longer before we can leave this place?”
The question resonated with impatience and anger. It didn’t ask for an answer; it demanded it.
“I don’t know,” he said truthfully. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. The monster will follow us wherever we go.”
“That might be,” she conceded. “But we have to do something anyway. We can’t just wait around.”
She was right, of course. They had to do something to stop the killings. He even knew what that something was. They had to hunt the monster down and find a way to destroy it. To do that, they had to use Hawk as bait because he was the one the monster wanted. Because the monster was a demon, and it had been sent to stop him. He knew that. But he also knew what he couldn’t do. He couldn’t put himself at risk. There was more at stake than his own life.
He wished momentarily that things could go back to the way they had been. He wished he could return to the city, to the abandoned building in Pioneer Square, that he could live there again with his family, and that the future could be nothing more than a dream that came every so often to remind him of what might one day be.
“Logan Tom will be here soon,” he said. “When he gets here, we will go looking for the monster.”
“I could do that myself,” she said. Her eyes were dark with anger. “Just as well as he could. I might have to, if he doesn’t return soon. We don’t even know if he’s still alive. There’s nothing to say he is.”
Which was true. “He’s alive,” Hawk said anyway, feeling inside the certainty that he was.
She studied him with a gaze that said everything about her feelings toward him. She didn’t believe him. She didn’t think that he could do the things he claimed. She hadn’t witnessed any of his magic firsthand, and she wasn’t convinced by what she had been told. She was worried for the children he was going to lead and suspicious of where he was taking them. But he didn’t know what to do about it.
“Maybe we can leave tomorrow,” he told her. “I can tell you by tonight.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what to make of you, amigo. I don’t know if you’re what you say you are or not. Maybe you don’t know, either. Maybe you’re doing what you think is right. Maybe. But if it turns out you don’t know what you’re doing, a lot of people are going to be very angry. Especially me.”
“If I don’t know what I’m doing, it won’t matter,” he replied. “Because we’ll all be dead.”
She stared at him for a long moment, as if undecided about whether to pursue the matter. Then she wheeled about wordlessly and walked away.
“YOU’RE SURE ABOUT THIS?” Fixit pressed, hoping that maybe the other boy wasn’t.
But Chalk gave a quick, firm nod. “I heard them talking. A couple of the caregivers. A boy and a girl disappeared sometime last night. Didn’t come back. No one can find them. They sent out search parties, but there was no trace.”
“Just like the others,” Fixit said.