Bedlam.
Johannes is standing on the desk in the corner, his hands pressed to the wall like it might absorb him. In front of him, Mikael stands guard like a shield, his eyes tracking a blur between bodies. Katja and Juani are in full-chase, both racing after the low shape while Helkki bounces on the couch, shrieking out what sounds like battle commentary.
“A quick pivot…and it’s headed for high ground. Here’s Juho with a feral tackle and… NO! It’s still loose. There goes Kat for the interception—AND SHE’S DOWN!”
Blood drains from my face when I get a clear view of the source of the chaos. A figure bursts past at the height of my knees. Spindly limbs flail. Needle-sharp teeth are bared by a screech that could shatter glass.
Gremlin.
The thing is infinitely creepier in real life than the pictures I’ve seen in books. The way the stick-arms wave and grab… My neck shivers.
It moves in frantic bursts, darting between children, knocking over books, tearing open a cushion. It whips across the room with the energy of a rabbit hopped up on speedwort.
“Look at that evasive tactic. Retreat, I say! RETREAT!” cries Helkki, bouncing higher.
Bits of stuffing rain down like confetti in the gremlin’s wake.
My feet freeze to the floor, but Lark is moving. Taking control.
“Helkki,” he commands, “get down and help.”
She stops bouncing and lands in an ungraceful sprawl. “It’s not hurting any—”
“Now,” Lark snaps. “You know what happens if Joha gets bitten.”
The gremlin launches off a chair, soaring over Katja’s head just as Johannes—still frozen on the desk—lets out a tiny, terrified sneeze.
The gremlin’s head snaps toward him.
It moves like lightning. Scrabbling. Clawing. Jumping.
Lark moves faster.
Before I can cry out, he snatches the creature mid-air, pinning its wiry arms.
“It wasn’t going to bite anyone!” Helkki protests.
And then the gremlin sinks its teeth into Lark’s hand.
His grip falters, but he doesn’t drop it. Jaw tight, he exhales through his nose and says, “Outside. Now.” The room is still buzzing as he turns to the others. “Where are Aili and Eevi?”
There’s a creak from the wall cabinet, and a small voice asks, “Is it gone?”
Lark mutters under his breath, then heads outside with Helkki, the wriggling gremlin still in his grasp. Blood drips from his hand.
The rest of us are still, no one daring to move. Then, as if some unspoken signal passes between them all, the kids exhale and lurch into action.
Johannes sinks down the wall, wheezing as he slumps to sit on the desk. Katja is by his side immediately, helping him steady his breathing while Juani hovers. There’s a shimmer of dust where Kat’s hand dances over Johannes’s chest, and the boy’s breathing improves to steady gasps. I’ve seen pixie dust at work,but never directly from the source. For a moment, I just watch, until Lumi gives me a nudge.
They’re scared, snowdrop. You can help.
I stumble into motion. “Katja, is he okay? You didn’t get bitten, did you, Johannes?”
His head gives a meek shake, and Kat meets my eye. “Sometimes he can’t breathe well, but I can help him. Don’t worry.”
Me, worry? I should be the one reassuringthem. Instead of worrying about being hurt myself, I should have thought about the fact that gremlin bites are toxic to humans. Lark threw himself in harm’s way while I did nothing.
You’re here now, Valkie, Lumi reminds me gently.
