The Wyrd of Willowmere

Chapter 15

Claire sprang back in alarm, putting as much distance as possible between herself and the reptile. Even as she obeyed the instinctive reaction, she realized that she had cleared the space between the snake and the boy; nothing now stood between them. Nick was very pale and still, staring at the small dark head weaving to and fro, the extended fangs. Would poison work in a simulation? Surely not—unless Nick in his fear forgot this was not reality, and expected the mamba's venom to be deadly. Then he might die of a psychosomatic response. She mastered herself and strode forward, once more putting herself between them. "Leave him alone," she snapped.

All at once the menacing snake was gone, and in its place there stood a figure that, while human, was no less sinister: a small, hunched, wizened man, dark of skin and clad only in a loincloth. In his hand was a staff of bone.

"Mamba," said Claire. Fury rose in her. "You're not wanted here. This is Nick's private place. You can't just come in without permission."

"Oh, but I can," the sorcerer said. His shape shifted yet again, and there stood Klaus van Buren. "I'm here, am I not? The boy left one little opening, a mental crack just small enough to creep through, and I used it. Nicholas,"—turning to the cowering child—"it's I, Klaus. I've come to protect you. I always have protected you." 

"Stay away," cried Nick. "I don't like you any more."

"Now, now, what lies has this girl been telling you? You really ought not to listen to her. Why, you don't even like her; you told me so yourself."

He was talking to Nick as if he really were still a child, Claire thought. He meant to regress him back into that young and trusting person from the past. "He's trying to control you, Nick," she said. "He wants to use you again—only this time he'll kill you. Klaus doesn't love you and he never did. Send him away!"

But Nick stood rooted to the spot. Claire was reminded of the old stories about birds being so mesmerized by the approach of snakes that they couldn't move.

"There she goes again," said van Buren. "You see? Such nonsense! I've raised you and cared for you for nearly ten years. If I'd meant to harm you, I'd surely have done it before now. But what has Claire Norton ever done for you? Hasn't she been rude and hateful to you from the start? Why would she change her mind about you now? She doesn't care about you, she's just trying to drive a wedge between us. She knows I am here to save you from the greatest danger of all." He turned towards the hallway. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" said Nick, swallowing.

"That scratching and snuffling. It's out there, Nicholas. Your worst enemy. It's at the door right now."

"You're making it up," said Claire. "There's nothing there. Or if there is, it's one of your own daimons."  Van Buren turned towards her.

"Aha! You're not sure now what to say! Is there something there, or is there not?" Van Buren beamed in satisfaction.

Claire turned on her heel and marched down the hall to the front door. There was a sound of soft hissing and scraping claws at the outer door. She hesitated. "Leo, is that you?"

"No—another daimon has come up onto the veranda. It isn't from the Legion horde; it just came out of nowhere."

Claire stood a moment deliberating, then she turned the lock and flung the inner door wide open. Through the screen door she saw a lean, spotted tan shape standing on the veranda, its long barred tail twitching.

"The leopard!" van Buren declared behind her, with a dramatic gesture. "The slayer of your parents. It has come for you now, Nick!"

Claire spun around. "Stop it!" she shouted. "You sick old monster! Leave him alone!" She turned back to the door. "And you, whoever or whatever you are, you can just leave now because there's no way you're getting in. Leo, can you drive it away?"