http://bane-6.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] bane-6.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] 31_days2008-12-08 03:57 am

[Dec 8] [Courtney Crumrin] What you don’t know can eat you.

Title: What you don’t know can eat you.
Day/Theme: 8) why should our children learn about monsters
Series:Courtney Crumrin
Character/Pairing: Courtney, Butterworm
Rating: PG




“No time to play, princess,” Butterworm said. He crouched like a cat and seemed to be bristling like one. “Time to get indoors.” He made a lunge to scamper away, but her cantrip tightened around him and sent him sprawling on his chin. He spat out a goblin curse, and glared over his shoulder at the girl.

“You haven’t answered my question.” Courtney crossed her arms over her chest and pinned her usual glare on him. She couldn’t help but notice he was more wound up than usual. His own glare narrowed.

“Ain’t nobody in the woods tonight, tidbit,” he growled. “As you can see for yourself. Not even the curious cats. The only people you’ll see are those too stupid to know better, and them with the bad luck of having to fight through all your practice spells to get home!”

“Something worse than Rawhead?” she asked, more curious than ever now, but masking it behind cockiness. “I dealt with that just fine, if you’ll recall.”

“Every idiot can be lucky once,” Butterworm said, then froze. His head whipped around and his big ears perked high to detect some sound. When he spoke again, it was in a hurried whisper. “All right, kid. Fun’s over. Trouble’s on the way. Let me go and we’ll both run.”

“Yeah, right.” Courtney said, but she had taken a step towards her uncle’s house. “I don’t see or hear anything.”

“I do.” Butterworm twisted and tugged against the magical restraint. He was still whispering and getting more frantic every minute. “C’mon, let me go! Look, I’ll tell you all about it, but not here! Not out like this! Let! Me! Go!”

On the last word, she did release him and he pitched over on his nose again. Not even bothering to glare at her this time, he bolted. If she hadn’t grabbed his hood, he would’ve been gone in a blink, and as it was he towed her along, forcing her to run to keep up. He was heading toward her house, she noticed with some relief.

Maybe his panic was contagious, but she could feel something now, a searching presence. It was like the psychic equivalent of some giant animal sniffing the air. Butterworm was saving his breath to run with. She fell twice on the way, but didn’t lose her grip on his hood, bringing him up short and choking both times. It was embarrassing enough to be that clumsy, but she couldn’t help but notice that the Night Thing was more annoyed with the delay than anything else. He didn’t complain or mock, just grabbed her by the arm and yanked her back into a sprint.

They got into the yard and instead of the door, Butterworm made for an old rosebush and crawled under and behind it. He dragged her arm right through the thorns and she finally let go. There wasn’t room for her to follow him all the way back there.

“This should be far enough,” he panted. “The old man’s wards have always kept it away before.”

Courtney had to swallow hard to get enough air to speak again. She was out of breath and red in the face, and the only thing that kept that from being miserable was that Butterworm was being careful not to mention it.

“All right,” she wheezed. “Spill.”

“They should’ve told you,” Butterworm said, leaning back against the stone wall. “Even goblins don’t let their young’uns roam on this night. Not the ones they want to keep anyway.”

“Shut up,” she snarled. “And talk.”

“Make up your mind, kid!” he almost chuckled, the sobered. “Nothing’s for free. All the magic in this area? The coven didn’t bring it with them. They came here because it was already on site. It comes from somewhere, and them that supply it don’t get many chances to collect payment. When they do, it’s best to be elsewhere.”

“What are they?”

“Magic Things.” When she scowled, he shrugged. “I’m a Night Thing. We come in all shapes and sizes. So do Magic Things. This one hunts the woods every nine years. It eats whatever magic it finds to take back to wherever it goes to make more. And it doesn’t mind eating whatever the magic happens to be in at the time. That means you, dumpling. And me.”

“Spells don’t work?”

“They just soak ‘em up. It’s like throwing sponges at a tidal wave.”

“Silver bullets?”

“Be serious. You think I’d run from something you could stop with a mortal weapon?”

They were quiet after that, getting the last of their breath back. Courtney spared a moment to look at the thorn cuts on her arm. Her knees were also skinned from her stumbles. They were just barely bloody though, not even band-aid worthy. When she looked up, she found Butterworm grinning evilly and looking smug.

“You owe me for this one,” he said.