I opened my eyes to see an older boy. He was twice my size with dark hair and savage eyes. The dirt that smudged his face gave him the appearance of having a beard, making his young face strangely cruel.
Two other boys jerked me away from the wall. I yelped as one of them twisted my arm. The older boy smiled at the sound and ran a hand through his hair. “What are you doin’ here, Nalt? You lost?” His grin broadened.
I tried to pull away but one of the boys twisted my wrist and I gasped, “No.”
“I think he’s lost, Pike,” the boy on my right said. The one on my left elbowed me sharply in the side of the head and the alley tilted crazily around me.
Pike laughed.
“I’m looking for the Woodworks,” I muttered, slightly stunned.
Pike’s expression turned murderous. His hands grabbed my shoulders. “Did I ask you a question?” he shouted. “Did I say you could talk?” He slammed his forehead into my face and I felt a sharp crack followed by an explosion of pain.
“Hey, Pike.” The voice seemed to come from an impossible direction. A foot nudged my lute case, tipping it over. “Hey Pike, look at this.”
Pike looked down at the hollow thump as the lute case fell flat against the ground. “What did you steal, Nalt?”
“I didn’t steal it.”
One of the boys holding my arms laughed. “Yeah, your uncle gave it to you so you could sell it to buy medicine for your sick grandma.” He laughed again while I tried to blink the tears out of my eyes.
I heard three clicks as the latches were undone. Then came the distinctive harmonic thrum as the lute was taken out of its case.
“Your grandma is gonna be mighty sorry you lost this, Nalt,” Pike’s voice was quiet.
“Tehlu crush us!” the boy on my right exploded. “Pike, ya know how much one of them’s worth? Gold, Pike!”
“Don’t say Tehlu’s name like that,” said the boy on my left.
“What?”
“‘Do not call on Tehlu save in the greatest need, for Tehlu judges every thought and deed,’” he recited.
“Tehlu and his great glowing penis can piss all over me if that thing isn’t worth twenty talents. That means we can get at least six from Diken. Do you know what you can do with that much money?”
“You won’t get the chance to do anything with it if you don’t quit saying things like that. Tehlu watches over us, but he is vengeful.” The second boy’s voice was reverent and afraid.
“You’ve been sleeping in the church again haven’t you? You get religion like I get fleas.”
“I’ll tie your arms in a knot.”
“Your ma’s a penny whore.”
“Don’t talk about my mom, Lin.”
“Iron pennies.”
By this time I had managed to blink my eyes free from the tears and I could see Pike squatting in the alley. He seemed fascinated by my lute. My beautiful lute. He had a dreamy look in his eyes as he held it, turning it over and over in his dirty hands. A slow horror was dawning on me through the haze of fear and pain.
As the two voices grew louder behind me, I began to feel a hot anger inside. I tensed. I couldn’t fight them, but I knew if I got hold of my lute and made it into a crowd I could lose them and be safe again.
“…but she kept humping away anyway. But now she only got a halfpenny a throw. That’s why your head is so soft. You’re lucky you don’t have a dent. So don’t feel bad, that’s why you get religious so easy.” The first boy finished triumphantly.
I felt only a tenseness on my right side. I tensed too, ready to spring.
“But thanks for the warning. I hear Tehlu likes to hide behind big clumps of horseshit and th—”
Suddenly both of my arms were free as one boy tackled the other into the wall. I sprinted the three steps to Pike, grabbed the lute by the neck, and pulled.
But Pike was quicker than I’d expected, or stronger. The lute didn’t come away in my hand. I was jerked to a halt and Pike was pulled to his feet.
My frustration and anger boiled over. I let go of the lute and threw myself at Pike. I clawed madly at his face and neck, but he was a veteran of too many street fights to let me get close to anything vital. One of my fingernails tore a line of blood across his face from ear to chin. Then he was against me, pressing me back until I hit the alley wall.
My head struck brick, and I would have fallen if Pike hadn’t been grinding me into the crumbling wall. I gasped for breath and only then realized I’d been screaming all the while.
He smelled like old sweat and rancid oil. His hands pinned my arms to my sides as he pressed me harder into the wall. I was dimly aware that he must have dropped my lute.
I gasped for breath again and flailed blindly, knocking my head against the wall again. I found my face pressed into his shoulder and bit down hard. I felt his skin break under my teeth and tasted blood.
Pike screamed and jerked away from me. I drew a breath and winced at a tearing pain in my chest.
Before I could move or think, Pike grabbed me again. He bludgeoned me up against the wall once, twice. My head whipsawed back and forth, caroming off the wall. Then he grabbed me by the throat, spun me around, and threw me to the ground.
That’s when I heard the noise, and everything seemed to stop.
After my troupe was murdered, there were times when I would dream of my parents, alive and singing. In my dream their deaths had been a mistake, a misunderstanding, a new play they had been rehearsing. And for a few moments I had relief from the great blanketing grief that was constantly crushing me. I hugged them and we laughed at my foolish worry. I sang with them, and for a moment everything was wonderful. Wonderful.
But I always woke up, alone in the dark by the forest pool. What was I doing out here? Where were my parents?
Then I would remember everything, like a wound ripping open. They were dead and I was terribly alone. And that great weight that had been lifted for just a moment would come crushing down again, worse than before because I wasn’t ready for it. Then I would lay on my back, staring into the dark with my chest aching and my breath coming hard, knowing deep inside that nothing would ever be right, ever again.
When Pike threw me to the ground, my body was almost too numb to feel my father’s lute being crushed underneath me. The sound it made was like a dying dream, and it brought that same sick, breathless ache back to my chest.
I looked around and saw Pike breathing heavily and clutching his shoulder. One of the boys was kneeling on the chest of the other. They weren’t wrestling anymore, both were looking in my direction, stunned.
I stared numbly at my hands, bloody where slivers of wood had pierced the skin.
“Little bastard bit me,” Pike said quietly, as if he couldn’t quite believe what had happened.
“Get off me,” said the boy lying on his back.
“I said you shouldn’t say those things. Look what happened.”
Pike’s expression twisted and his face went a livid red. “Bit me!” he shouted and swung a vicious kick at my head.
I tried to get out of the way without doing any more damage to the lute. His kick caught me in the kidney and sent me sprawling into the wreckage again, splintering it even further.