Charles de Lint - Forests of the Heart

“Oh, you’ve done a marvelous job,” Bettina said. “I can feel the blessing of the aunts and uncles in your work here today.”

Her wolf nodded. “The geasan is potent. It makes me smile simply to look upon it.”

“Sí,” Bettina said. “But there is mystery there as well. An old brujería that makes the heart quicken.”

“You mean the magic?” Ellie said. “Because I’ll tell you the truth, I didn’t know if that was happening or not. It didn’t feel any different from any other sculpture I’ve worked on—except I did this one a lot more quickly.”

“Then all your work holds magic,” Bettina told her.

Ellie thought of all those commissions of businessmen she’d done, culminating in the half-finished bust of Henry Patterson she’d destroyed and would probably still be sued over.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” she said. Before they could discuss it further, she added, “So now what do we do? Who wears the mask?”

“We put it on the Glasduine,” Bettina said. “And hope the mask is able to reach back into the grace and draw forth what is needed to counteract the creature’s evil.”

“We’re really grasping straws here, aren’t we?” Ellie said.

Bettina shook her head. “My heart tells me this is what we must do. It tells me there will be a price to be paid as well, but not what that price will be.”

Her wolf sighed. “There is never an end to it… once you begin bargaining with the spirits.”

“Yet there will be an end to the Glasduine,” Bettina said. “And that is all that must concern us now.”

“But if it doesn’t work…” Ellie began.

“Then los cadejos will have to kill it.”

Ellie still had her doubts, as they probably all did. The biggest danger so far as she could see was that the mask would work, it would draw more magic into the Glasduine, except it wouldn’t change it. It would only make it stronger, so strong that not even these fierce little dogs of Bettina’s would be able to deal with it. But she couldn’t bring herself to speak that fear aloud.

She cleared her throat. “Okay,” she said. “Well, I guess there’s no point in waiting to do it.”

Carefully, she worked the mask free from the stone and carried it over to the Glasduine on the palms of her hands. She almost dropped it when the Glasduine lunged at her. The creature was only just contained by the little dogs. Her heart drummed wildly and for a moment she didn’t think she’d be able to go through with it. What if it all went wrong? It would be on her head, then. All the damage and deaths the Glasduine caused if they weren’t able to stop it here.

Los cadejos leapt at the Glasduine, bearing it to the ground. They pinned its thrashing limbs, its torso. One of them sank its teeth into the creature’s hair, holding the head down.

“Do you want me to finish?” Bettina asked. Her voice was gentle, with no recrimination in it.

Yes, Ellie thought, but she shook her head.

Walking forward, she circled around to where the one little dog held the Glasduine’s head still. The monster bucked, its body twisting this way and that, but the dogs were still able to hold it in place. For now.

Swallowing thickly, Ellie hurried forward to get this done. She searched the Glasduine’s features as she approached, looking for some trace of Donal in them, in the eyes, anywhere. There was nothing.

“Here goes,” she said.

She dropped to her knees. Leaning forward she pressed the wet clay mask into place.

The Glasduine howled.

It burst free from the grip of los cadejos, scattering them. Whipping its head back and forth, it tried to dislodge the mask but only succeeded in striking Ellie a bruising blow that tumbled her to the ground. Los cadejos recovered quickly and nipped at the Glasduine as it stood, but it paid them no mind. Now it was the immovable force and nothing they could do would budge it. With its one hand, the Glasduine tore at the clay, but it was fused to its skin as surely as the wooden mask had fused to Donal’s face in Kellygnow.

Arching its neck, the creature turned its face skyward and howled again, a sound so fierce and loud it had a physical presence. Los cadejos were scattered by it. The humans were sent to their knees, hands clasped over their ears.

Tears of pain streamed from Ellie’s eyes. Through their blur, she saw the Glasduine whipping its head from left to right, its howl of pain growing louder and stronger. She pressed her hands as tightly as she could over her ears. And then her gaze caught movement. She looked at the ribbon of green-gold light that connected the Glasduine to its place of origin. The light appeared to be bubbling, roiling and twisting, throwing off sparks.

“Oh, shit,” she said, the words drowned out by the Glasduine’s bellowing cries.

It was definitely time for Plan B, but los cadejos couldn’t get near the Glasduine now. Whenever they charged the creature, no matter from what direction they made their approach, they were batted aside as though they were no more than toy dogs.

They had screwed up big-time, she realized, and now they were going to pay.

Why didn’t they simply kill it? Donal had wondered when the strange little dogs first rendered the Glasduine helpless. That’s what he would have done, put the bloody bugger down, quick and fast, no regrets. Then its only victims would have been the Gentry and his own grand bloody self, and they’d brought it on themselves, so there’d be no great loss.

Truth was, Donal was ready to go on. Better or worse, at least there was a chance to start over again with a clean slate in whatever place came next. Given a choice, he’d choose the unknown over the shite he already knew.

But when he realized what Bettina and the others were hoping to do, he found himself agreeing it was worth the effort. If they really could turn the creature around, then perhaps something good could still come from all of this. Maybe someone with a bigger and better heart than his own could awaken the Glasduine’s true potential, turn the monster into an avatar of joy and spiritual growth. Christ knew, the world could use something like that about now.

With the Glasduine immobilized by the dogs, he felt free to drift from its body. Guilt reared strongly in him when he hovered near Tommy, but it was far worse when he looked to Ellie and Miki. Caught up in making a new mask, Ellie, at least, was able to focus on the task at hand instead of dwelling on his betrayal of them. But Miki… oh, Miki. She always wore her heart on her sleeve, and right now he could see it broken and bleeding. If he was given only one wish, one chance, it would be to make it up to her. How could he have done this to his own bloody sister? It was worse than anything their da’ had done—he at least could claim the doubtful immunity of having been blind bloody drunk every time he’d taken after them.

Donal had no such excuse.

That’s what had to hurt the worst, he realized, as he drew near to his sister. That he, the one who’d always protected her, could have become this monster.

When had he changed? she’d be thinking. How much of their life together had been a lie?

He reached towards her, trying to brush away a tear that crept down her cheek, but his incorporeal fingers sank into her flesh. He pulled back with a start and fled. For the rest of the time that Ellie worked on the mask, he floated up near the top of the canyon, so busy hating himself that he almost missed the moment when the mask was done and Ellie was fitting it onto the struggling monster’s face. Quick as a thought, he darted back down, reentering the Glasduine just as the wet clay of the mask settled onto its features.