Chapter Three Page Three, Dave, Sewers

PREVIOUS PAGE

“You’re lame because you still think I can’t read your mind!”

Purple underwear, Dave thought.

She laughed, like she hadn’t expected it.

Dave thought of something he’d seen hidden under the socks in his father’s dresser. Something Dave had found when Dave was thirteen.

“That is completely obscene,” she said, “Are you trying to keep me out of your head now?”

“I’m starting to get an idea of how to do it,” Dave said, “But you could still have guessed I’d do that. You’re probably some girl at school. You have a crush on me, don’t you? You stalk me and find out everything you can about me. For fuck’s sake, have you sneaked into my house and found my collection of Sherlock Holmes novels?”

“I snuck into your head,” she said, “It’s roomy. You’ve got a lot of space in there.”

“Is that an insult?”

“It was a compliment,” she said, “With everything you already have in there; you have space for plenty more. You’re storing this conversation pretty accurately in there too. You’re not editing out any of your fear. I like that.”

“I’m not consciously trying to do that,” Dave said.

“No, you’re not,” she said, “That’s why I said I like that.”

            “Are you going to let me go?” Dave asked, “Or are you going to kill me and dump my body in the river over there?”

            “No,” she said, “The thought never occurred to me until you said that. Killing you would make things simpler. But simpler is boring.”

            “Ok,” Dave said, “So what are you going to do?”

            “I’m going to tell you that you’re right about the Candle Crown being around here,” she said, “I’m supposed to grab it, but it’s funner if you try first. You’ll die of course. The Bricklayers aren’t about to give up their trophy now.”

            “What does it do?” Dave asked.

            “What doesn’t it do?” She said, “That’s a joke, of course. It doesn’t do a lot of things. It doesn’t do a lot of things that you can’t even think of. The thing’s practically worthless to me for that very reason. Who wants a thing that only gives you an infinite thirst for power?”

            “It only gives you a thirst?” Dave asked.

            “Doesn’t make it seem very desirable, does it? I could be lying though. You don’t know me well enough.”

            “I don’t even know your name,” Dave said.

            “You can call me Sharpdusk,” she said.

            “That’s definitely not your real name.”

            “Oh, you’re getting better at not being stupid. Soon you might graduate to being simple minded.”

            “If you knew me at all, you’d know how funny what you just said is.”

            “I already know how funny it is,” she said, “I’m simply choosing not to laugh. Anyway, you should definitely round up a bunch of your friends and make a raid on the cave. We call it the Ember Cave, just so you have some nomenclature ready when you call Neil, Robb and maybe even Elys, tomorrow, and suggest to them you make a run for it.”

            “Get out of my head!”

            Again, Dave was startled, but he was startled by himself that time. He expected to hear the girl, Sharpdusk, cackle again, to unnerve him. He even expected for a moment to feel a sharp implement thrust through his back or neck. For a moment he even imagined that she might bite him like some kind of twisted vampire, right on the neck. He was reasonably sure that her teeth were all sharpened. Reasonably sure that at least the front teeth were. He didn’t know why though.

            Eventually he turned and saw nothing, not even when he illuminated the area with his phone. It was three in the morning. He was tired. He went back through the sewer and climbed back up the ladder. A construction worker smoking a cigarette saw him climb out.

            “What the fuck were you doing down there?”

            “None of your business,” Dave said. He realized his knife was still in his hand. He walked off, hoping the worker hadn’t seen it.


NEXT PAGE