Darkness Falls by Keith R.A. DeCandido Page B

a vicious grin, holding out the tooth. “Don’t get your knickers in a bunch, Willie. I don’t want your slimy tooth anyways. Besides, the way I hear it, it’s Matilda who comes looking for teeth nowadays, and I don’t need that.”
    This William already knew. After the fire, nobody went to Lighthouse Point anymore. It was a small miracle that the fire brigade had managed to salvage the house.
    And few people had seen the Tooth Fairy. When they did, it was a glimpse only.
    But the children still left their teeth for her to take. She stopped baking—probably because of the fire—so she started leaving coins instead. She always left them at night. All anyone saw of her were quick flashes in the weak light of the street lanterns.
    “So you’re all just wasting your time. You’re not gonna get anything.”
    Emma stuck her finger into George’s face. “You leave us be, George! No one asked you along, and William’s not scared of your stories.”
    George hadn’t lost the grin. William wished he had the courage to wipe that grin off his face.
    “Sure he is. But he won’t show it. Not in front of you, anyways. Go on, Willie,” he said, shooting William a look, “tell her how much you like her.”
    “Shut up, George!” William hoped he wasn’t blushing.
    “Ah, I’m leaving anyway. I’ll give you and your belle some time alone.”
    With that, George turned and started walking away, laughing.
    William was glad to see the back of him, but he had the feeling he was going to hear that laugh for the next few hours in his head, at least.
    “Belle?”
    Turning, William saw Emma giving him a strange look. “Is this true, William? I—I had no idea you felt this—”
    “I don’t feel anything!” William grabbed his tooth off the ground where George had dropped it. “And I’m not doing this to impress you,” he lied. “Let’s go.”
    John Ames angrily snapped the bread apart as he stared with annoyance at the empty chair at the table perpendicular to him.
    His wife, Martha, sat across from him, staring down at her own plate. No doubt, she thought that nothing was wrong. She always did. It drove him mad.
    But not nearly as mad as that damn boy did.
    Not that he was atypical or anything. Children today knew nothing about discipline. All those children going up to that—that woman’s house and taking bad food from her, and her taking their teeth. It was morbid, and it wasn’t right. That sort of thing would never have been tolerated when John was a boy, and it appalled him that the children today were being allowed to get away with it. Some were even encouraging it.
    John stared at the empty chair again.
    “That boy is just pushing for a taste of my belt,” he muttered. “I break my back to put food on this table, and he’ll eat it when I say so.”
    “I ain’t seen William since this morning, but he swore he’d be home in time for supper,” Martha said timidly. “I’m worried, John.”
    John snorted. “Way you coddle him, I ain’t surprised.”
    He waited for her to elaborate, but she said nothing.
    Losing patience, he said, “Spit it out, woman. You’re worried, you said. Why?”
    “Oh, John—he lost a tooth yesterday.”
    “Is that right, now?” John shook his head. Damn their eyes, he was not going to let that devil woman bewitch his boy.
    Dinner came and went with no sign of William. It was starting to get dark.
    As Martha started cleaning, John grabbed his coat.
    “Where are you goin’?” Martha asked, sounding worried.
    “Out,” was all he said. Martha was worried enough about William.
    Of course, it was precisely because of William that he was going out in the first place.
    The tavern was on the edge of the forest and not far from Lighthouse Point. Many of the men from the town were there, as John had hoped. Some, he was worried, were at that ridiculous fair outside of town—full of idolators, that was—but he was grateful to see that everyone he saw was a good Christian man, and