Monday, October 29, 2012

Dead Rite chapter 130.07

“So young?” Manoach began crossing the twenty-yard gap between them. “I didn't think human children developed the sight until much later. Was she born with it?”

“Yes. I think all children are, actually.” Harold bent to kiss Lucy on the top of her head. “Go and see Mummy.” He gave her three pats and a gentle push on her back, deftly palming the plastic Madonna with his left hand. He made an expansive gesture with his right in an illusionist's misdirection. “It makes sense when you think about it. If all children can see the Denizens of the other planes that intersect the mortal world, it explains mush of their childhood fears and night terrors. Eventually the child matures to the point where they're desperate to believe the party line that monsters don't exist and if that means leaving behind Father Christmas and the Easter Bunny, so be it. Lucy, on the other hand, is being raised in an environment where the supernatural is as real as the morning teapot. It's only natural she should develop the sight to the point where she can see though the illusions better than an adult.”

“She sees me as a skeleton.”

“She's young enough not to have a pre-conceived notion of what a psychopath looks like. I was expecting to see a man so I saw one. She just saw without judgement.”

“Sometimes it takes a child to shine a light on the world.”

“Sometimes.” Harold glanced across to where Lucy was talking to her mother. He was sure there had been five demons guarding Gillian. Now there were only three. He turned his back on the tableau and faced Jasfoup. “Tell me, Manoach, if you would. What makes more important than Jasfoup is to me?”

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