The Orphan Army (28 page)

I
saw it when I was inside the Huntsman's head,” explained Milo once Oakenayl released his grip. “I saw some of his memories, remember? I saw him take the Heart from the pyramid.”

At first none of them could speak; then they all tried to speak at the same time. Oakenayl yelled, Evangelyne demanded details, Halflight tried to mitigate, and Mook banged his fists together and yelled, “Mook.”

When he could finally get a word in sideways, Milo told them what happened. About being attacked by the Huntsman, about being dead—or near enough—for a few seconds. About floating above his own corpse. About falling into the mind of the Huntsman and seeing his memories and those of the hive.

He told them every detail he could remember, though he admitted that this was far from having lived it. “He has a little pouch on a strap across his chest. That's where he keeps the thing he stole.”

Evangelyne turned sharply to Oakenayl. “See? I
told
you he had it. Back in the clearing, before the grenade, that's what he meant. He touched a pouch like he had something of great value there. The Heart is in there. I'm sure of it.”

“It is,” confirmed Milo. “And you heard what he said, right? About what he plans to do
with
the Heart?”

“I did not,” said Halflight. “There was too much going on.”

“I didn't hear him say anything,” Oakenayl agreed. “I think I was out of it by then.”

“I was pretty dazed,” said Evangelyne. “So much of it is a blur.”

“Well, I remember every word that freak said,” Milo told them. “And, believe me, we have to get that stone back from him.”

“‘We'?” asked Evangelyne. “Why do you care if my friends and I recover the Heart of Darkness?”

“Because this war just got bigger than
us
and
them
, or even my people and the Nightsiders. This war just got bigger than everything else ever.”

Oakenayl leaned forward, a frown of concern chipped into his features. “How?”

“Because,” said Milo, “the Swarm know about you. They know you're supernatural. They know you can do magic.”

“So what? They've known that for years.”

Milo shook his head. “Not really. They fought you guys, but they didn't know what they were fighting. Remember, I saw their memories, too. The Swarm's. When they came to Earth, they fought everyone. We're all from here.” He pointed to the ground beneath them. “From Earth. But then two things happened.”

“What?” asked Evangelyne.

“First, they created the Huntsman. They already knew about evil. As a concept, I mean. They're not evil—they're more like a virus. They destroy, but it's not personal. They encountered evil on different worlds.”

“Evil exists everywhere,” said Halflight. “So what?”

“Their science can't grow. It's . . . I'm not sure how to explain it. . . . It's kind of hit a wall. Their minds can't grow anymore. They're stuck. Maybe it's because they're insects, but they can't become more powerful than they already are. And it takes them thousands of years to go from one world to another.”

“Space is big,” said Oakenayl. “So?”

“So, they went looking for evil and they found this guy who was totally whacked out. A serial killer. A psycho. They found a really, seriously evil guy and they made him one of them.”

“The Huntsman,” murmured Evangelyne.

“The Huntsman. They used their science to
bond
with him. With his mind. They made him part of the Swarm so they could understand what power comes from evil. Does that make sense?”

“Too much sense,” said Halflight, and she shivered at the thought.

“It gets worse. When they bonded with him, some of him went into the Swarm. They became like him more than they wanted. Understand, this guy is a total freakjob.”

“That doesn't give them the secret of magic,” said Evangelyne.

“No, but it made them aware of it. The guy they made into the Huntsman . . . he believed in magic. He really did. He thought what he was doing—all those killings he did—would somehow transform him into something else. Into someone who could do magic.”

“That's happened before,” said Evangelyne. “Even among us there are tales of madmen and madwomen who think that the pathway to power is through destruction.”

“It is one of the many forms of evil,” said the sprite.

“The problem is, the Swarm didn't know about magic before. They were hoping for more power, to use evil to jump to the next level. But now they know that there's something else out there. Something a whole lot more powerful than good or evil, something maybe more powerful than science.”

“Magic,” whispered Evangelyne. “Goddess of shadows . . .”

“Magic,” said Milo. “That's what the Huntsman has been searching for. He went hunting and found the Heart of Darkness. Now the Swarm wants to figure out how it works. How its
magic
works.”

“It will take them a thousand years to understand even the first secrets of the Heart,” said Halflight.

“So what? They
have
a thousand years. They've been out there for millions of years. They've been stuck for a million years. Now they have the Heart of Darkness. They want to use it to do three things.”

Evangelyne looked frightened to ask her question. “What?”

“They want to figure out how to use magic,” said Milo.

They nodded with grave solemnity.

“I think,” continued Milo, “they want to use the Heart to open the doorways to the worlds of shadow.”

They stared at him in abject horror.

“And,” said Milo softly, “they want to conquer the whole universe. All of it. Everywhere. Every dimension. Every world, even your shadow worlds. All of time and space. That's what the Bugs want to do.”

F
our sets of eyes stared at him with equal measures of horror and fear.

Milo imagined the same emotions were there in his own eyes. He sure as heck felt that way.

At the same time, though, he felt different. Something was happening inside of him, and he wished he had time to stop and think about it. The process had started when he found the pyramid; he knew that much. That was the point at which the world, as he knew it, began to shift, to lose the sharpness around the edges. To become somehow less real. Or . . . to become real in a way he didn't yet understand.

The process of change had accelerated during the fight with the Stinger.

Milo had fought an alien mutant monster. He'd done that.

He'd survived it, too.

Then the rock boy had killed the Stinger, and any chance the world had to go back to something he recognized was shot to pieces. From there it all had a dreamlike quality, and for someone like him, someone who lived as much in dreams as he did in the real world, that was jarring.

Throwing the grenades had blasted big holes in the world too.

Being inside the Huntsman's head.

Seeing Evangelyne become a werewolf.

Then Milo himself defying the Huntsman. Making his stand, which is what the witch had said he needed to do. That was an action Milo still couldn't understand. If anyone else had done that, even Shark, Milo would have said it was what a hero would do. A noble sacrifice and all that stuff.

Except this wasn't Shark or Barnaby. They were dead or lost.

This wasn't his mom.

For a moment, Milo's heart felt ready to crack as he wondered where she was. There was no camp to go back to; nor was it safe to go to the ruins and wait for her. He didn't know what to do about contacting her.

What would she have thought about what he'd done? Risking his life? Prepared to throw it away to try to save the lives of people he didn't even know. To save the lives of monsters.

What would Mom make of that?

What did
he
make of it? Who was he? Certainly not a character from one of his books. Not a Bilbo or a Caspian or anyone he'd ever read about.

This was him. Milo Silk.

So . . . what did his actions make him?

He certainly didn't consider himself to be in any way heroic. He'd simply done the only thing that he could have done in that moment, even though he could have died. If Mook hadn't saved him, he
would
have died.

Throwing that grenade had saved Evangelyne, and maybe all of the orphans.

It still didn't feel heroic, though.

He wondered if that was the thing about heroes. Did any hero ever feel like he or she was a hero in the moment? Was taking action that much more important than being the hero who is expected to act?

That was a puzzle he didn't have time to sort out right then.

What mattered was the Huntsman.

They all sat there, staring at one another and into the middle distance. No one said a word.

Until Milo Silk had a very bad idea.

L
ook,” he said, laying his palms flat on the table, “I'm pretty sure I messed up the Huntsman's ship, right?”

Oakenayl gave a grudging nod. “You damaged two of the landing legs.”

“Is there any way to find out if he fixed it yet? 'Cause if not, then maybe the Huntsman's still here.”

“Oh, he is here,” said Halflight.

“How do you know?”

“The bats told me,” she said. “How else?”

Milo didn't have anything in his brain that was an appropriate answer to that, so he left it there. Bats. Right.

“If he's still here,” he continued, “then the Heart of Darkness is still here. Still on Earth. That gives us a chance.”

“How?” asked Oakenayl. “He has a hundred Stingers and countless Bug shocktroopers. We could never hope to take it by force. After all . . . we tried that and failed.”

He cut a sharp look at Evangelyne, who colored again.

“Hey,” said Milo, “you tried, right?”

“Tried and
failed
,” Oakenayl repeated. He shot the wolf girl a withering look. “I didn't like your plan from the start.”

“Oakenayl . . . ,” murmured Evangelyne.

“Why don't you lay off her?” asked Milo sternly. “At least she had a plan, didn't she? And you guys did some serious damage, right? You took out a whole bunch of Stingers and shocktroopers. And none of you actually died, so stop whining.”

The oak boy looked absolutely furious, but Halflight turned away to hide a smile and Mook made a sound that might have been a chuckle.

Evangelyne, however, looked embarrassed and angry. “I don't need you to defend me, boy.”

“I'm not,
girl
,” said Milo sharply. “I'm trying to tell you an idea I have that might get the Heart back and save—let me count—I don't know . . .
everybody.
”

That shut everyone up.

For one full second.

Then they were all jabbering for him to tell them his plan.

When he could stick a word in edgewise, he did.

They gaped at him.

Evangelyne looked horrified.

Oakenayl said he was nuts, that it would never work.

Halflight looked deeply uncertain and very scared.

Only Mook showed no expression because his face was incapable of it. However, he pounded a stony fist on the table so hard the candles jumped and threw wild shadows around the cave.

“Mook!” he cried.

Milo sat back. He was sweating because he was scared out of his mind by the plan he'd just outlined. His heart was hammering and his breath was coming as fast as if he'd run a mile uphill. But Milo managed to force a smile onto his face.

“Mook,” he said.