Poison Fruit - Page 38/149

“Cody,” I whispered, grabbing two fistfuls of the thick, coarse pelt around his neck. “It’s me. Daisy.” The wolf didn’t move, continuing to growl low and deep in its throat, lips drawn back from its teeth.

“Hang on.” Behind us, the bogle clambered to its feet. “I’ll get a chair and bash that bad boy over the head.”

“Don’t you dare!” I gazed into Cody-the-wolf’s eyes, trying to find a trace of Cody-the-human in there. “Cody, come on. Please?” After a long hesitation, the wolf backed off. Heaving a sigh of relief, I clambered to my feet. The wolf angled itself into a position where it could keep watch over both me and the bogle, sitting on its haunches and looking alert. I waited a moment to see if Cody intended to shift back, but apparently not. Since shifting would have left him naked, shivering, and unarmed, staying in wolf form was probably the right choice. “Hi,” I said to the bogle, peeling off my glove to flash my rune-marked left palm at him. “Daisy Johanssen. I’m here on Hel’s business.”

“Aw, man!” The bogle looked disappointed, or at least I thought so. It was hard to tell on features that looked like they’d been hewn out of thorny black wood. “I totally took you for a human, dude.”

“Yeah, well, you just attacked Hel’s liaison,” I said. “I’m afraid that’s going to be a big black mark in the official ledger.”

“Shit.” The bogle scratched at its lank, mossy hair. “No fair! Any way you can let me off with a warning?”

“Maybe,” I said. “What’s your name?” It hesitated. I lowered my right hand to dauda-dagr’s hilt, drawing it to reveal a few inches of blade. “Come on, dude. Don’t make me threaten you with cold steel.”

The bogle’s glowing orange eyes widened and it backed away. “Seriously? That’s harsh.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I withdrew another inch of blade. “Your name?”

In a reluctant tone, the bogle said a word filled with consonants and crackling sounds that sounded like a bundle of sticks breaking. “Skrrzzzt.”

“Okay, um, Skrrzzzt.” I sheathed dauda-dagr. “If you can tell me what I want to know, I’ll give you a clean record.”

“Fire away.” The bogle shrugged. “Hey, you want a beer? I’ve got beer. Scored it off some high school kids who thought they’d have themselves a little party out here.” He grinned, baring sharp yellow teeth. “Man, were they scared!”

“No thanks,” I said.

“Suit yourself,” the bogle said. “Mind if I indulge? My nerves are shot to hell.”

“Go right ahead.” I watched the bogle pad over to fish a can of beer out of a case stashed on a trestle table. “So you’re just lurking out here waiting to scare people?”

“Dude, I’m a bogle.” Skrrzzzt pointed to himself with one over-articulated finger. “It’s what we do.”

“I thought your haunt was in the woods.”

“It used to be.” He cracked open the can and took a long swig. “Oh, man! That’s better. Anyway, yeah. I’ve scared the shit out of at least four generations of campers.”

“I’m surprised we never got any complaints,” I said.

The bogle laughed. “Are you kidding? I’m an institution in this neck of the woods. The counselors loved me. I kept those kids in line, man. No one ever snuck out of their cabins twice on my watch.” He shook his head. “So sad to see it go. What a shame. I figure hanging around here to scare off trespassers is the least I can do.”

“What are you going to do if the property’s developed?” I couldn’t help being curious.

“Good question.” With a wary glance at the wolf, Skrrzzzt pulled a couple of folding chairs around. “Have a seat,” he offered, taking one himself and crossing the ankle of one long, bony leg over the opposite knee. “I don’t know. If enough families with kids move in, maybe I can strike a deal with the homeowners’ association.” His orange eyes brightened like lava surging in a volcano. “Hey, would you be willing to negotiate it? First contact’s always a little awkward, if you know what I mean.”

“I bet,” I said. “Sure, we can talk about it when the time comes.”

“Awesome.” He took another long pull on his beer. “So what can I help you with today?”

I sat opposite him. “Do you know anything about a Night Hag that’s been preying on people?”

The bogle shook his head. “Not in Pemkowet. I knew a few in ye olde country back in the day.”

“Well, there’s one here now,” I said. “And she’s definitely not welcome. Can you tell me how to catch her?”

“Sure,” he said obligingly. “Easy-peasy. You just have to bind her with a strand of her own hair. If you do, she has to obey you.”

“Son of a bitch!” Call me gobsmacked. “Are you kidding me?” I said. “Hair? Stacey Brooks was right?”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.” I waved one hand. “Just thinking out loud. So, um, how do I go about finding the Night Hag and getting a strand of her hair?”

“Yeah, that’s the tricky part.” Skrrzzzt grimaced and downed the last of his beer, crumpling the can in one bony hand. “See, you don’t find a Night Hag. She finds you. I mean, the bit about the hair is pretty straightforward—all you have to do is pluck a strand and knot it around her neck. But she has to enter your nightmare in order for you to do it.”