Free Jack, the giant-killer by Charles De Lint Page A

You’re not really going to this Giants’ Castle to look for the Horn, are you?”
    “I have to.”
    “Why?”
    “I don’t know. Because of Bhruic and Finn, I suppose. Because no one else will and this is finally something I can do that’ll have meaning.”
    Kate shook her head. “Will was full of it and you know it. What the hell kind of meaning do you call his way of living? I still don’t know what you ever saw in him.”
    “Well, he had nice buns.”
    “Woman does not live by buns alone.”
    Jacky smiled.
    “So how are you getting out there?” Kate asked.
    “I hadn’t really thought about it. By bus, I suppose. Do you think a bus goes out there?”
    “We could take Judith.” Judith was Kate’s
    Volkswagen Beetle that had surprisingly survived God knew how many Ottawa winters.
    Jacky shook her head. “No way.”
    “Why? You don’t think she’d make it out there?”
    “It’s not that. I don’t want you to come. This is something I’ve got to do, but I’m not going to drag you into it.”
    “Then why did you tell me about it? Why point out that geek on his bike to me?”
    Jacky sighed. “I just wanted somebody else to know. I wanted to see if somebody else could see him too. So that I wouldn’t have to keep wondering if I was just crazy, you know?”
    “Well, you are crazy, but that’s got nothing to do with this. I’m going, and that’s final. A woman’s got to do what a woman’s got to do and all that.”
    “But it’s not your problem.”
    “It wasn’t yours either, Jacky. But you’ve made it yours— just like I’m making it mine.”
    “I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you.”
    “Hey, I’m not all that big on sitting around here wondering if I’ll ever see you again either, you know. We’re pals, right? So what do pals do but stick up for each other? I’m going. If you don’t want to come with me in Judith, then I’ll just meet you there.”
    “But you didn’t see them kill that little hob, Kate. And the giant—he’s so big.”
    “We’ll be like that little tailor in the fairy tale—
    remember? ‘Seven with one blow.’ No! I’ll be the valiant tailor. And you… you’ll be Jack the GiantKiller.”
    “It’s not funny, Kate. And I don’t want to kill anybody.”
    Kate reached out to hold Jacky’s hand. She gave it a squeeze. “I know, Jacky. I’m scared too. I’m just shooting off my mouth so that I don’t have to think about it. You’re sleeping here tonight, aren’t you?”
    When Jacky nodded, she added, “Well, then let’s hit the sack, okay?”
    “Okay.”
    Jacky lay awake for a long time after she went to bed. She kept wanting to get up to make sure that the biker hadn’t come any closer to the house, that the rest of the Hunt hadn’t joined him. She worried about Finn, and about Kate coming with her to the Giants’ Keep, and was of half a mind to sneak out right now, but she knew it was too late. Kate would just drive out to Calabogie herself and be sitting there waiting for her. She listened to the wind outside her window. It was making a funny sound—almost breathing. She thought of what Bhruic had told her, about how he heard the whispery voices of the sluagh, the restless dead, on the winds at night.
    She turned her head so that she could see the window from where she lay. When she started to imagine that she could see faces pressing against the panes—horrible faces, all bloated like drowned corpses—she slipped from under the covers and went into Kate’s bedroom. Kate stirred as Jacky crept into her bed, but she didn’t wake.
    Listening carefully now, all Jacky could hear was the sound of their own breathing, nothing more. She felt a little stupid for getting spooked—and what did that say about how she’d do when it came to their expedition to the Giants’ Keep?— but foolish or not, she was staying right where she was and she wasn’t going to budge until it was morning.

    CHAPTER SEVEN
    « ^ »
    The rumour