hilt. “I must be going,” he said as he hurried from the room. “This time I mean to catch them at it.”
Miraculous, thought the goldsmith, as he watched him go. How fortunate I have memorized the formula. It shows truth to everyone. Why, if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, reflected in this wonderful mirror, I would have no proof that my apprentices were stealing those eggs from my henhouse. Little wretches. I always knew I couldn’t trust them….
Crouch rewrapped the curious object and thrust it under his cloak.
“My payment?” asked the goldsmith.
“Oh, yes, Master Jonas. Come to my house this afternoon and we’ll be waiting with it.” Crouch and the Lombard cast significant glances at each other, which the goldsmith, his mind aflame with thoughts of the wickedness of his apprentices, never even noticed.
Five
T HAT night after my husband’s bloody corpse had been brought home, I had a terrible dream, which seemed very real and almost as if I weren’t dreaming at all. I woke up in my dream to see that the baby that was inside me was already born. But instead of being small and newborn, the baby was a big ugly boy of about two years old, bony, pale, and with dark, lank hair. He was doubled up in a cradle beside my bedside, and hardly fit, even so, with his strangely long, knobby legs. His huge eyes, shining green like the glowing eyes of owls, fascinated me. Above him, around him, there seemed to hover an evil presence, like a dark shadow.
That big bony changeling whimpered there for food. But what kind? When I tried to go to it, I couldn’t move, as if something heavy were preventing me from getting up from the bed. When the strange creature saw that it couldn’t draw me to the cradle with the look in its green glowing eyes, it spoke: “Mother,” it mewled, “oh, I’m so hungry.” But when it opened its mouth, I saw an even row of pointed teeth, shining almost bluish white like sharp little fish teeth. My skin tingled with fear.
“Mother, come,” whined the demonic child.
“Don’t touch it,” said a strange voice.
“But I have to,” I answered.
“Let it go. It is evil incarnate.” Ah, God, is that what I had been growing inside me all that time? Evil? What was I that I couldn’t bear a child like other women have? It couldn’t be true. I wanted my child.
“Let it go,” said the voice. “Can’t you feel the wickedness of it? The force? If you let it, it will suck away your soul.” I could feel the evil. It was like a coming thunderstorm, that makes your scalp tingle, and the hair on your arms and legs stand on end. It was pulling me, and I could feel the inferno beyond. Oh, help, help me, I cried in my mind.
“Hold tight. Pull with us, Susanna. You must will it away,” said the powerful creature that was holding me tight, pulling me from the abyss. I could hear its heavy wings beating and I suddenly felt that there was more than one of them, as if it had had to call for help from its friends because the black sucking thing was so strong. In the dream, of course, I was very glad to have it, or them, though in real life I would have been more careful about entrusting myself to strangers like that.
“Why?” I cried out in my dream.
“Rowland Dallet, in seeking a treasure, managed to free a being of chaos and destruction. It followed him home. Now it wants an earthly body, and like a cukoo’s egg in the nest, it has displaced the child beneath your heart. Do you not understand it will discard you like an empty shell when it is ready to hatch? It counts on your misplaced love to nourish it with your life. We have shown you what it is. And now I say, let it go before it pulls you from my grasp.”
“It’s my baby and I want it.”
“It is none of yours any longer. You must let that creature go,” said the voice, which vibrated like the deepest bell in Paul’s steeple. For an instant, the room was illuminated in shifting colors, and I saw a towering column of
Miraculous, thought the goldsmith, as he watched him go. How fortunate I have memorized the formula. It shows truth to everyone. Why, if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, reflected in this wonderful mirror, I would have no proof that my apprentices were stealing those eggs from my henhouse. Little wretches. I always knew I couldn’t trust them….
Crouch rewrapped the curious object and thrust it under his cloak.
“My payment?” asked the goldsmith.
“Oh, yes, Master Jonas. Come to my house this afternoon and we’ll be waiting with it.” Crouch and the Lombard cast significant glances at each other, which the goldsmith, his mind aflame with thoughts of the wickedness of his apprentices, never even noticed.
Five
T HAT night after my husband’s bloody corpse had been brought home, I had a terrible dream, which seemed very real and almost as if I weren’t dreaming at all. I woke up in my dream to see that the baby that was inside me was already born. But instead of being small and newborn, the baby was a big ugly boy of about two years old, bony, pale, and with dark, lank hair. He was doubled up in a cradle beside my bedside, and hardly fit, even so, with his strangely long, knobby legs. His huge eyes, shining green like the glowing eyes of owls, fascinated me. Above him, around him, there seemed to hover an evil presence, like a dark shadow.
That big bony changeling whimpered there for food. But what kind? When I tried to go to it, I couldn’t move, as if something heavy were preventing me from getting up from the bed. When the strange creature saw that it couldn’t draw me to the cradle with the look in its green glowing eyes, it spoke: “Mother,” it mewled, “oh, I’m so hungry.” But when it opened its mouth, I saw an even row of pointed teeth, shining almost bluish white like sharp little fish teeth. My skin tingled with fear.
“Mother, come,” whined the demonic child.
“Don’t touch it,” said a strange voice.
“But I have to,” I answered.
“Let it go. It is evil incarnate.” Ah, God, is that what I had been growing inside me all that time? Evil? What was I that I couldn’t bear a child like other women have? It couldn’t be true. I wanted my child.
“Let it go,” said the voice. “Can’t you feel the wickedness of it? The force? If you let it, it will suck away your soul.” I could feel the evil. It was like a coming thunderstorm, that makes your scalp tingle, and the hair on your arms and legs stand on end. It was pulling me, and I could feel the inferno beyond. Oh, help, help me, I cried in my mind.
“Hold tight. Pull with us, Susanna. You must will it away,” said the powerful creature that was holding me tight, pulling me from the abyss. I could hear its heavy wings beating and I suddenly felt that there was more than one of them, as if it had had to call for help from its friends because the black sucking thing was so strong. In the dream, of course, I was very glad to have it, or them, though in real life I would have been more careful about entrusting myself to strangers like that.
“Why?” I cried out in my dream.
“Rowland Dallet, in seeking a treasure, managed to free a being of chaos and destruction. It followed him home. Now it wants an earthly body, and like a cukoo’s egg in the nest, it has displaced the child beneath your heart. Do you not understand it will discard you like an empty shell when it is ready to hatch? It counts on your misplaced love to nourish it with your life. We have shown you what it is. And now I say, let it go before it pulls you from my grasp.”
“It’s my baby and I want it.”
“It is none of yours any longer. You must let that creature go,” said the voice, which vibrated like the deepest bell in Paul’s steeple. For an instant, the room was illuminated in shifting colors, and I saw a towering column of
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