Read Online Jack, the giant-killer by Charles De Lint - Free Book Online Page A

engine on his machine.
    “I… I’ve been having a weird night since you left my place,” she said.
    “No kidding? You look like something the cat dragged in. And where’d you get this?”
    Kate plucked the cap from Jacky’s head. Jacky blinked, vertigo hitting her hard. When the world settled down once more, it wasn’t such a bright place anymore. It was as though taking off the cap had drained something from it—a certain vitality, an inner glow that was now washed away. She tried to smile at Kate, but she was having trouble just leaning against the doorjamb.
    “Can I come in?” she asked.
    Kate took her by the arm and led her inside, shutting the door on the night.

    CHAPTER SIX
    « ^ »
    If she could share her current craziness with anyone, Jacky thought, it would be Kate, but what had been happening lately seemed too off the wall to share even with her, best friend or not. So Jacky told her nothing about hobs or gruagaghs, stitcheries, giants or the Wild Hunt. Instead she described being chased by a biker, and how she hoped that she hadn’t brought any trouble with her by knocking on Kate’s door.
    “Creepy,” Kate said when she was done.
    “Yeah, but if he’s still hanging around…”
    “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. He’s had his fun. He’s probably back at some bar with the rest of his asshole friends, having a good yuk about it.”
    If he wasn’t gathering up the rest of the Hunt, Jacky thought uncomfortably.
    Kate turned from the kitchen counter where she was making some tea. “Hungry?” she asked.
    “No—yes. I’m starving.”
    “I’ve got cake—or I could make you a sandwich.”
    “I’ll take the cake.”
    Kate grinned. “I kind of thought you would.”
    Jacky stuck out her tongue and relaxed in her chair. The effects of her latest encounter with faerie were beginning to wear off a little now as she sat in the familiar comfort of her friend’s kitchen. The table she was sitting at was in a little breakfast nook that jutted out from the rest of the house into the back yard, with windows on three sides. There were enough plants hanging in there to start a jungle, together with various and sundry postcards that were tacked to the window frames and little odds and ends that were perched wherever there was a spot for them.
    Jacky watched Kate bustle about getting tea mugs, pouring the water into the kettle, cutting a generous slice of nutcake for each of them. If there was one thing that Kate was mad about, it was nuts of every size, shape and description which, considering her surname Hazel, left her open to a great deal of teasing. Jacky knew that she should get up and wash her hands and face, but she just didn’t have the energy. It was so much better just lolling here in the nook, and then Kate was loading up the table and, well, Jacky thought, it would be rude to get up just when Kate was sitting down.
    The tea was hot and perfect. The cake was
    homemade, hazelnut—which brought a suitable comment from Jacky as she tasted it—and delicious.
    “Maybe,” Kate said in reply, with her chin propped up on her hands as she studied Jacky’s hair, “we could hire you out as a sort of walking broom.” She plucked the redcap from the floor where it had fallen. “And where did you get this?”
    “I found it.”
    “I can believe it. I just didn’t think you were the sort to go through dustbins.“ She scrunched up her face and lowered her voice. ”It’s a dirty job, but somebody’s got to do it.“
    Jacky snatched the hat back from her, then sat turning it over in her hand.
    “Hey,” Kate said. “I was just teasing.”
    “I know.”
    Jacky looked inside the cap and traced the intricate stitches she found there with her finger. Hob stitcheries, she thought. The dead hob who had owned it flashed in her mind… the angle of his neck as he lay on the ground, the sightless eyes. And then she thought of Finn, leading off the giant… She glanced at Kate.
    “Do you believe