The creature reaches out with one of his eerily long fingers and snatches the brooch, then holds it up to the light, apparently satisfied.
Rhion unrolls the object on his lap and sighs in disappointment as he reveals a kitchen knife.
One by one they come stand at our knees and one by one we give them the shiny objects we carried with us into the woods. In exchange for an earring, I receive a paring knife. Marion ends up with a whittling knife, Emmett with a butter knife, Lydia with a small hatchet.
But in the corner by the hearth rests a pile of more wrapped objects. We haven’t gotten anywhere close to revealing every potential knife.
“We have nothing more to give,” Rhion says. “Please let mesearch through the remaining knives and we’ll leave you with our warmest wishes.”
The creatures glance between themselves, their clever eyes not quite human. This whole place gives me the creeps. I long to take Marion by the hand and leave at once.
“No, no, you have more to give,” the one stirring the soup says.
“I assure you—” Rhion begins to say, but he’s interrupted.
“Your shadow, perhaps?” the one by the window says.
“A day of your life, but I pick which one!” the creature at the fire offers.
“Please—” Rhion holds up his hands, but he’s interrupted by the creature sitting at his feet.
“Kiss her!” He points to Lydia with his sharp fingernail. “A kiss for a knife!”
“No,” Rhion says forcefully, and at once, the easygoing, good-humored version of him disappears. It’s in the deepening of his voice, or the squaring of his shoulders. I understand at once why Rhion is Bram’s best friend, his closest adviser. His easy smile hides frightening strength beneath.
“But you love her!” the creature shouts, his voice sharp and dry.
Lydia blushes deeply and shifts in her seat. Rhion can’t even look at her, but he doesn’t deny it.
“You love her! You love her! You love her!”All of them are singing in chorus now. The creatures seem to be multiplying. A leg swings down from the rafters, grazing my head, and Marion throws her weight protectively over me. Emmett stretches his long arms out over us both.
“That’s enough,” Rhion commands.
The one closest to Rhion stands on his tippy-toes and puts hishands on his hips. “Fine, I’ll kiss her myself!” he declares, then scrambles up onto the chair and puckers his lips. Lydia recoils and both Emmett and I stand to pull him off of her, but before we’ve even had the chance to stand from the couch, Rhion’s kitchen knife is through the creature’s chest. “You will not touch her,” he growls.
Blood dripsoff the hilt into the worn fabric of the sofa.
Rhion wrenches the knife out, the body thumps to the floor, and chaos erupts.
Immediately sharp nails dig into my back as the creatures behind the couch attempt to climb onto me. Marion wrenches them off, then kicks to get them off her own leg, but hers won’t budge.
“Damn Redcaps!” Rhion yells as he drives his knife again and again through the throng, but they just seem to keep coming. They spill from the side rooms, from the rafters, even wiggling down the chimney to bound over the fire toward Lydia. One’s dirt-covered nails are primed to gouge her eyes out, but Rhion doesn’t let him get close enough. The Redcap is dead before he hits the floor.
Lydia runs to the corner and crouches down at the pile of knives. She unwraps them as quickly as she can, kicking away the Redcaps who come at her.
As we fight, their strange hats fall off, revealing they each wear an identical stocking cap of bloodred.
Marion is still shaking her leg wildly, but the Redcap holds on, digging his fingers into her flesh. The minute I see he has drawn blood, my vision flashes red and I pick up Lydia’s small axe, discarded on the sofa beside me.
There’s nothing but instinct and thrumming fear as I hack and hack until the Redcap is in pieces and Marion is free.
“I’m going to kiss you about that later!” she calls as she grabsher own knife and goes to help Rhion, who has at least six Redcaps clinging to his back and screaming as they try to take him to the ground.
I smile and taste blood in my mouth.
Emmett is trying to make his way to Rhion, but is too busy fighting his own battle. A Redcap has dropped down onto Emmett’s head and is using his sharp nail to leave a long bloody scratch across Emmett’s cheekbone. He shouts and drives his dull butter knife into the creature’s eye socket. Now without a weapon, he uses his fists to pummel the crowd trying to bring him to the ground until I can’t tell if the blood on his knuckles is his own or the Redcaps’.
Lydia sprints for the door, hurtling over three who try to stop her. “I don’t think it’s here!” she calls.
