Bec by Darren Shan Page B

I know how to fight and I’m not afraid to die. I want to be treated equally, not as a helpless child.
    “If we’re going to try that, we need to do it soon,” Goll says. “If we can put a full day’s march between us and these monsters, they’ll never catch up. But if we leave it until later, they’ll just wait until dark and give chase again.”
    “I don’t see that we’ve any choice,” Lorcan says. “Hit hard, run fast, and —”
    “Run fast!” Run Fast shouts. We smile at him but he doesn’t see the humor in it. “Run fast!” he yells again. “Run fast!”
    “Easy,” Goll says, reaching out a hand to soothe the agitated boy.
    Run Fast ducks away from Goll. “Run fast!” he insists. Then, before we can stop him, he darts past the safety of the stones and races towards the trees — and the demons.
    “Run Fast!” I scream. “Come back!”
    He ignores my cry but draws to a halt short of the trees. The demons in that area have bunched together, snarling and drooling, reaching out towards Run Fast, each wanting to be the first to snag him and feast on his flesh.
    Run Fast dodges the hands, paws, and claws of the demons, then starts to...to... No! I can’t believe it. But yes — he starts to
dance
!
    It’s crazy. Incredible. Ridiculous. But he dances anyway. It’s not a graceful dance, or a dance of magic or power. He just hops from foot to foot, clapping his hands, waving them around, grunting a series of off-key tunes.
    The demons go wild, infuriated by the display. Run Fast is taunting them, dancing around within their reach, mocking them. They fall over one another in their fury, clutching, grasping, desperate to drag him down and put an end to his insolence. Some even step out of the shade of the trees and lunge at him, risking the burning rays of the sun.
    Run Fast dodges them all, leaps here, darts there, dancing all the time. He sets off on a circuit, the demons following him. He comes within range of those who’ve been standing their ground, keeping an eye or three on the rest of us. As he passes, they lose interest in everything but the dancing boy and join with the rest of their inhuman clan, giving chase, lashing out, spitting poison.
    Within minutes every demon is focused on Run Fast, stumbling after him, clashing with each other, fighting among themselves. Demons are never the most logical of creatures. Now they’ve lost their senses entirely and only care about destroying this dancing thorn in their side. They’ve forgotten the rest of us.
    “I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it,” Goll says, stunned, watching the show with a wide, incredulous eye.
    “Look at how he dances away from them,” Fiachna murmurs. “He slides through their fingers like smoke.”
    “There’s more to the fool than we thought,” Connla says, a hint of disapproval in his expression. He doesn’t like surprises, even when they work to his advantage.
    “Come on,” Orna says. “He’s created a gap for us to slip through. Let’s not waste it by giving the demons time to regain their senses.”
    “What about Run Fast?” I ask.
    “He’ll be fine,” Goll laughs. “He’ll catch us up later. I think it would take more than all the demons of the land to snare that boy!”
    I don’t like the thought of leaving Run Fast behind. I study him as he continues to dance around the rim of the circle, teasing and tormenting the demons. As I’m watching, I notice that one of the demons isn’t chasing Run Fast. It’s standing by itself, ignoring the commotion, gaze fixed on the ring of stones...on
us.
I can’t see very well, but it looks to be a pale red color and curiously lumpy, as though made of wet clay. And it’s not standing on the ground — it’s floating.
    There’s something especially disturbing about this Fomorii. It’s not like any other demon I’ve seen. But before I can move forward for a closer look, Goll slaps my back and points me in the opposite direction, where the