The Nixie’s Song (11 page)

Nick cocked his head to one side.
The illustration reminded him of the diagrams that he used to put his models together.
Tab A into slot B.
Finally, something that made sense.
“We could maybe climb a tree.
Use some rope like a lasso.
The ankle part would be easy.”

“This has a really creepy, crazy-person vibe to it,” Laurie said.
“Who was this guy?”

Rifling through the papers, Jared pulled out a few illustrations.

“What’s that?” asked Nick.

“My uncle Arthur did these, based on the notes he’d gotten.
According to the letter Mallory found, he’d sent a bunch of art down for confirmation.” Jared started to roll them up.
“I would have never even seen them if we didn’t come here.
I have to show these to Simon!”

“Wait a minute,” Nick said.
“You can’t just take those papers.”

“Why not?” asked Jared, pointing to the diagram in Nick’s hand.
“Aren’t you going to take that?”

“That’s different!
I
need
this.
We have to stop that giant and we have to follow the instructions
precisely
.
You’re just stealing!”

“I’m not stealing,” Jared said.
“These were supposed to be sent back.
Anyway, my great-great-uncle wrote to this guy more than eighty years ago.
Didn’t you see that ancient calendar?
He’s probably long gone.”

“I don’t think so,” said Laurie softly.
She ran her fingers over one of the newspaper articles on the wall.
“This is from last year.
And the electricity works.”

Jared shrugged.
“Whatever.
You got what you wanted and I got what I wanted, so let’s get out of here.”

“You’re not going to help us?” Laurie asked.

Jared shook his head.
“What?
First you call me a thief and then you want my help?”

“You’re the faerie guy.
You’re supposed to be good at this stuff.” Nick pointed a finger at him and narrowed his eyes.
“Unless it was all hype.”

“You better shut up, lard ass,” Jared said.

“I bet none of that stuff in the books ever even happened to you.
You probably made it up.”

“Shut up!” Jared grabbed his collar, fist cocking back for a punch.
Nick closed his eyes, throwing up his hands.

“Stop it!” Laurie shouted.
“Stop fighting, you morons!”

Nick opened his eyes.
Jared was breathing hard, fist still clenched.

Laurie laughed.
“Oh my god, you are just
like the books!
You really are Jared Grace.”

“You better shut up, lard ass.”

“Jared Fennelly
^*
, actually,” Jared said, letting out a long breath.
“Mom made them change our last name.”

Its enormous eyes fixed on Taloa.

Nick, Laurie, and Jared ran back to the development, the plans for subduing the giant rolled and tucked away in Nick’s backpack.

The giant was still squatting beside the pond when they got there, its enormous eyes fixed on Taloa as rainwater ran off its rocky back.
The water faerie’s song sounded slower and more subdued, and her voice seemed rough.
The nixie looked at them with desperation as they came to the edge of the water.

“Just a little longer,” Laurie promised.

“I can sing a little longer lo-le-li,”
sang the nixie,
“for you that saved me.”

Jared stared at her and said nothing.

Wire cable would be strong enough to hold the giant once they’d lassoed him.
It was easy to get rope from the construction site, but Nick worried it’d snap.
They took what wire they could find and bound it together.

Rain fell in sheets, making the knotting slippery.
Nick took a quick look back at the house.
He didn’t see his father’s car, but that didn’t mean much.
He hoped his father and Jules and Charlene stayed far enough away that even if this didn’t work, they’d be safe.

“Who wants the
foot and who wants the head?” Jared asked.

Nick thought about horseshoes.
He used to play horseshoes on the lawn with Jules and his mom and dad long ago on summer nights.
Lassoing a giant couldn’t be very different from that.
It wasn’t really athletic.
As long as he could get up the tree.

“I can take the head,” said Nick.

“What are we going to do when he’s tied up?” Laurie asked.
“How are we going to drag him away from here?”

Jared looked over at the construction area.
“Maybe one of those lifts?”

“You want to steal a lift?” Nick demanded.

“Okay, what’s your genius plan?”

“Shut up, please,” Laurie whispered.
“We can worry about what to do with the giant later.
Taloa’s not going to last much longer.”

“You’re right,” Nick said.
“Ready?”

“Ready,” said Laurie.

“Ready,” said Jared.

Nick put his foot on the lowest branch of the oak tree and shoved himself up.
The bark was rough under his hands, and he wished that he’d picked throwing the wire over the giant’s foot.
He hadn’t climbed a tree in years, but he couldn’t let himself think about failing.
With a grunt, he pushed himself higher.

Looking down, he had a dizzy impression of how far he would fall if his foot slipped.
He felt cold all over.

By testing the limb twisting in front of him, he’d inched his way close enough that he could smell the giant’s mineral breath, which was like freshly dug soil.
He felt smaller than a mouse.
If he could barely find his way out of a field full of bloated fireflies, he had no idea how he was going to manage this.
He looked
down and nodded to Laurie anyway.

Holding the knotted circle of wire between them, Laurie and Jared crept to either side of the giant’s massive foot.
Nick tried not to breathe, conscious of every sound.
If it stopped looking at Taloa and looked at its foot right now, it could crush Laurie and Jared like ants.

The nixie’s song swelled nervously, as if trying to keep the giant’s attention.

Together, Laurie and Jared threw their cord.
It went over the giant’s foot just like the directions said it should.

Nick’s palms went damp with sweat.
He lifted his own loop of wire.
Somehow, he had to swing it over the giant’s head without getting the giant’s attention.

Take deep breaths,
Nick told himself.

Let out the breath you took,
he told himself.

It’s just like throwing horseshoes.
Horseshoes aren’t
really a sport.
You might not be good at sports, but you’re good at horseshoes.

Nick’s palms went damp with sweat.

He concentrated and tossed the wire into the air.
Swung it around.
Aimed.

The giant swung toward him, its black eyes gleaming with reflected light.
Nick yelped, but he didn’t hesitate.
He closed his eyes and threw it.
The giant bellowed.

Taloa stopped singing.

Nick opened his eyes just in time to see the giant lunge at him, fists raised.
One stone hand grazed close enough to smash a branch before the cord pulled tight around the giant’s neck.
The enormous creature fell with a sound like the earth cracking open.

Jared whooped and Laurie yelled—a sound that seemed more appropriate to terror than to victory.
Nick swung out of the branches, coming down hard on one knee, scraping the skin.

“Do not for-lo-le-la-get your promise,”
said Taloa, sinking into the water.
“You are indebted to me.”

“We won’t forget,” said Laurie.

“We did it,” Jared said.
“Wow.
Wow.
”

Nick turned to where the giant struggled
against the bonds, kicking and scrambling.
Each time it kicked, the wire pulled tighter.
With growing horror, Nick realized what the diagram had instructed them to do.
The trap was designed to make the giant strangle itself.

“No, wait,” Nick shouted, but the giant didn’t seem to understand him.
It thrashed again, kicking a sheet of water, pounding its head against the ground until it finally went still.
Its features relaxed into slackness.

No one cheered.
They stared in horror.
They’d killed the giant.

A low chuckle from behind Nick made him turn.

“Well, well,” said a black man with a huge machete in one sun-leathered and wrinkled
hand.
He stood just off the road, but he walked toward them.
Even in the dim light, the dull metal of the blade gleamed.

The man blinked cloudy eyes and grinned.
“Good work, kids.
Aren’t you gonna finish him off?”

“What?” Nick said.
The man actually saw the giant?
The man with the giant knife?

“I followed you over from my place.
Wanted to see what you were gonna do with the papers you took.”