by Lynn Viehl
I shook my head. “He wouldn’t use me like that. He was kind.”
“It was all a ruse, to manipulate you and me,” Lykaon assured me. “All that old man has ever wanted is the skull. It’s the only real power he has left—and you are handing it over along with the lives of everyone you care for.”
“If you give him the skull, he won’t attack the city,” I insisted.
“Then why does he need the skull now? Why did he bring all these warriors to surround Rumsen, if he sent you to defeat me?” Lykaon shook his head. “You have been a fool, my dear. I am the only one who can save you and your people now, and you know my price.”
I gnawed at my lower lip. “If I tell you how to work the spell, will you promise to spare the city?”
“I give you my solemn vow,” he said. “Only the natives will die. As they should, for their treachery.”
Slowly I reached for the carved shell pendant Blue Fox had given me, and removed it from my neck.
“You must wear this,” I told him. I waited until Lykaon slipped it over his head before I said to Night Snow, “Put the War Heart on the ground and uncover it.”
The young native gave me a bleak look before he set down the bundle and removed the blanket.
I started to walk off, but Lykaon latched on to my arm. “You are not running away.”
“I am moving away from you,” I told him, “so that I won’t disrupt the ritual. As soon as I do, wait until you see the first rays of sunlight, and then cast the binding spell again. Oh, and you must hold the pendant high above your head, to send the spirit where it belongs.”
He scowled. “My soldiers are already bound to me.”
“You’re not binding them to you,” I said, pointing at the pendant. “You’re binding the spirit to that. Then whoever wears it controls the spirit. Forever.”
“Go with her,” Lykaon told Night Snow, and tossed a dagger to him. “If she tries to escape, slit her throat.”
As we walked away the young native stuck the dagger in his belt. “You are very brave, miss. Very . . . convincing.”
I gave him a nudge with my elbow. “You did rather well, too, I must say.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
We stopped and turned as the sun began to rise, and Lykaon raised the pendant and began to chant. As the Wolfmen reached their master they encircled him, howling with delight as War Heart became illuminated by bloodred power. One by one they fell silent as the pendant began to glow.
Night Snow cringed a little. “I have never seen this done.”
“I have,” I said. “Lykaon did it to my grandfather just the other night. Pity he didn’t look closer at the pendant.” I nodded at the man in the tweed suit, who had turned his telescope on us. “Friend of yours?”
“Bureau man,” Night Snow said. “He reports to the mayor.”
“Oh, how convenient,” I said. “I’ll have to give him a note of apology for Lady Raynard.”
Yellow light shone out from the carved shell in Lykaon’s hand, and fell round him in a vivid swirl. It also cast a glow on the young native warrior who came up behind the immortal and thrust a spear through his body.
Lykaon staggered, but the light held him like a cage. The end of the spear impaling him caught fire as the pendant fell from his hand. He spun about until his gaze caught mine.
“What have you done to me?” he roared.
“I forgot to mention,” I called back. “The spirit that is being bound isn’t the wolf’s. It’s actually yours.”
The Wolfmen began to drop in their tracks, one by one, their bodies going limp as a scarlet mist rose from their chests and flew toward the War Heart. The approaching tribal warriors also halted, their faces growing solemn as they watched the wolf spirit returning to their relic.
Lykaon’s body began to shake. The color of his flesh dulled to gray, and began to flake off like ash, bit by bit. When he tried to grasp the spear, his arms fell away from his shoulders, and hung from it like ghastly trophies. The morning breeze caught the ash and set it adrift.
“It cannot end this way,” the Aramanthan howled. “It cannot—”
I felt certain he would have said more, but his jaw chose that moment to fall from of his face and disintegrate. I looked away and saw a familiar figure emerge from the native ranks, the wind dancing along the feathered edge of his blue cape.
As Lykaon’s body deteriorated, his spirit rose from his ashen remains, battering the cage of light, which began to shrink, smaller and tighter until he was trapped in a terrible bright light no bigger than a pebble.
Beside me Night Snow tensed, and I patted his shoulder. “This is the best part.”
The light danced for a moment before it was sucked into the shell pendant, which fell to the ground at the feet of Blue Fox.
With great dignity the shaman bent and picked up the pendant by the strip of leather and held it up to show the warriors, who let out a tremendous cry of victory.
The sunlight warmed my face as I walked over to the Wolfmen. Some had already died, but many were still breathing. I suspected the mech in their bodies would slowly poison their blood; without Lykaon’s magic they could not survive. The only true relief I felt was not finding Tom Doyle’s face among them.
I turned to see the red glow of the War Heart fade away, until all that remained was an old, brittle wolf skull. It still made my skin crawl, but then, most bones did. It made me glad I hadn’t let Blue Fox adopt me. I really would have made a terrible native woman.
Night Snow escorted me back to where Blue Fox stood waiting, and the shaman held out the pendant to me. “My thanks, Miss Kittredge.”
I put the pendant round my neck before I walked over to the skull. I gave Blue Fox a final glance—he nodded at me—before I picked it up and carried it back to present to him.
“The people of Rumsen are very sorry this was stolen from your tribe, Blue Fox,” I said for the benefit of the chiefs watching us. “Please accept it with our apologies.”
He bowed to me before he carried the skull off to the waiting chiefs.
The now very pale man in the tweed suit rushed up to us, stopped short, and then gave me a little wave. “Excuse me, miss, but is this, ah, settled, then?”
I eyed him. “And you are?”
“Toby Gervais, Bureau of Native Affairs.” He pointed to a group of other pale, nervous-looking men standing off in the distance. “We were sent to observe the, ah, whatever this was.” He bobbed his head. “How do you do?”
“Very well, Mr. Gervais.” I glanced at Blue Fox and Night Snow before I smiled at him. “And yes, I believe everything has been settled quite amicably.” I noticed a familiar-looking carri racing out of the city and toward us at great speed. “At least with the natives.”
Dredmore couldn’t drive over the unconscious Wolfmen, now transformed into their mortal selves, so he walked round them to get to me. Then he snatched me up and kissed the breath out of me.
When our lips parted I looked up at him. “Who bailed you out of jail?”
“Mrs. Eagle.” He glanced at the mess on the ground. “Lykaon?”
“All tucked away in here.” I held up the pendant to my ear. “Do you know, I think he wants to go for a sea bathe.”
Dredmore watched with me as Blue Fox and the tribal chiefs retreated eastward with the War Heart, followed by their warriors. “So you gave them back the skull.”
“I promised the shaman I would.” I yawned. “I don’t think Blue Fox will be using it again, unless he needs a lampshade or something.”
Dredmore turned to me. “What did you say?”
“I gave it to him, Lucien. I picked it up with my own hands and carried it to him. Just after the wolf spirit returned to it.” Which had been for the very last time.
“Indeed.” He examined me. “And no backlash.”
“I told you.” I brushed a bit of burned Lykaon from my sleeve. “There never is.”
• • •
Dredmore wanted to take me to
Morehaven, of course, but I wished to sleep in my own bed. I told him that several times as we drove back to the city before my eyelids refused to stay up and I slid into a deep and dreamless sleep.
I woke up in Rina’s bed at the Eagle’s Nest, with my friend fussing over me like an old hen. “Now this time you can’t scold me. I told Lucien to take me home.”
“You needed someone to look after you, love.” Rina brought me a cup of tea. “You’ve been out for three days straight. Bringing you here was his way of compromising, I guess. Doyle’s been by to look in on you, too.”
I choked and nearly spilled the tea down my front. “Tommy’s alive?”
“Bit banged up from fighting them Wolfmen, but nothing too serious.” She frowned. “What?”
“He still has the strong suit inside him?” When she nodded I sat back. “If the wolf spirit isn’t binding him, and Lykaon isn’t controlling him, then what’s keeping him alive?”
“Will to live, I’d say.” She chucked me under the chin. “Told you the lad was a tough one.”
Lad. I bolted upright. “God in Heaven— Harry. With all the madness I never gave him a single thought.” I reached for her hand. “Please tell me he’s not still trapped inside that child.”
“He is not, and for that you may thank me and my bottle of gut-toss,” Rina said. “Didn’t hurt Harry or the kid. I sent the lad over to John Halter; he’ll see to his schooling and keep until he’s old enough to get work.”
I wanted to sleep for another week, but I’d imposed on Rina long enough, and forced myself out of bed. Once I’d dressed and had an enormous breakfast with Rina, Wrecker drove me home. The last person I expected to see sitting on the steps of my goldstone was Annie. She stood up and peered at me as Wrecker helped me out of the carri. I smiled as I saw her absently reach to twist the apron she wasn’t wearing.
“It seems I have company,” I told Rina’s man. “It’s all right, I can take it from—oof.” Suddenly I was being hugged like a rag doll.
“Milady told us what you done for the city. Getting caught between them natives and the Wolfmen was foolish, reckless, and shoulda got you killed dead, Miss Kit.” Wrecker drew back and straightened my hat, his expression softening with fondness. “I don’t know how you do it. You’re like a cat with all them lives.”
“Cat, fox, something.” I shrugged. “Thanks for the ride, mate.”
Annie didn’t wait for me to reach the steps; she trotted over and bobbed quickly. “Milady said I was to watch for you and tell you straightaway when you come. I didn’t want to leave her when it started, but that sister showed up and said she’d manage everything—”
I held up my hands. “Slow down, Annie. What’s started?”
“It’s the baby, miss,” she said. “Herself is having it, right now.” She grimaced. “Um, in your bed.”
“Now?” I rushed past her, pausing only to toss my hat and reticule on the hall table before running back to my bedchamber.
Sister James was coming out of the room with an armful of stained linens. “There you are. Milady was hoping you’d come home soon.” She beamed. “Everything went very well—and very fast for a first child, too.”
“The baby was born? How? It’s hardly a minute old.” I recalled Janice’s swollen belly and Lady Bestly’s age. “Is her ladyship going to be all right?”
“She did beautifully, and the baby’s fine, too,” the sister said. “You can go in and see them if you like.”
I hardly knew what to expect when I stepped in, but it was not to see Lady Bestly sitting in my rocker chair and cooing to the small bundle in her arms. As soon as she spied me she gestured for me to come closer.
“I have delivered a son,” she said with a touch of her old arrogance. “I was waiting for you to return when the pains started. I thought Hartley might have to deliver the boy when Sister James arrived.” She held out her arms. “Go on, Kit. He doesn’t bite.”
With great reluctance I took the surprisingly heavy bundle from her, and looked down at the wee glowing face of the sleeping infant. Golden hair covered his little round head, and as I smiled he opened his eyes and stared up at me. “He has your eyes, milady.”
“He has rather more than that,” she said dryly.
A little arm worked its way out of the swaddling, and gears whirred as the tiny, golden mechanized hand attached to it swiveled, grasping the air.
“Oh, God.” I sat down in the chair beside hers and opened the swaddling. His left foot was also made of mech, and in the center of his chest was a pocket watch–size medallion of gold.
“Sister James believes your grandfather’s spell to protect the babe caused the unique fusion,” his mother told me. “Christopher must have already been changing when it was cast. Harry saved my son, Kit.”
I glanced at her. “Can the mech be removed?”
She shook her head. “Not without hurting and crippling him. Sister examined his differences with a magnifier and found they are all part flesh. She believes they will grow with him, although we shall have to keep close watch for any malfunctions.”
I regarded the baby boy, who was watching my face with his solemn blue eyes. “I don’t know what to say, milady. I know my grandfather never intended to do anything more than protect him. I’m so sorry.”
“My son is alive, and so am I. As Terrance’s heir he inherits the estate. We now have a future, thanks to you and your friends. Christopher will be a very unique young man, but no less adored because of his differences.” She gave the baby a fond look. “Indeed, I think him superior in every way.”
I wrapped the blanket over the baby before I carefully returned him to his mother. “Christopher was my father’s name.”
“As well as my own.” She chuckled. “And you said we had absolutely nothing in common.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
After assuring Eugenia that she would not be permitted to leave my bedchamber—or the premises—until she had fully recovered, I went to see to rooms for Sister James and Annie. Before I’d bought the goldstone it had been home to several other families, so I had enough rooms to house a dozen visitors.
Once I’d made up the beds I went in search of Annie, whom I found preparing a meal downstairs.
“I hope you don’t mind me taking over your kitchen, miss,” she said as she rushed from stirring a pot on the stove to punching down a crock of dough. “I didn’t think Herself would be able to leave with the baby and all, so I figured I’d cobble up some morning tea and get a start on luncheon.”
I peered at the pot. “I didn’t think I had any food in the house.”
“Oh, you didn’t, miss,” Annie assured me. “Sister James sent me with a list to the market right after the baby came.” She smiled shyly at me. “Right handsome lad, isn’t he? All that gorgeous hair, ’twas like spun gold.”
I thought of the baby’s more unique features. “He’s quite exceptional.”
“You needn’t worry about his little gadgetry parts,” Annie said, astonishing me. “There’s gloves and shoes aplenty, for while he’s little, so no one makes merry over them. World’s gone so modern that by the time he’s growed up I expect everyone will have them.”
“Annie, I doubt any other babies will be born with . . .” I trailed off as I remembered Felicity and Janice, and all the other women who had been attacked by the Wolfmen. “Oh, Harry.” I sat down on one of the kitchen stools and held my head in my hands.
“There, there, now, miss.” A flour-dusted hand awkwardly patted my shoulder. “T’wasn’t your doing, you know. You and Mr. Harry saved all them children from becoming monsters.” She crouched down before me to look in my eyes. “Sister and me and the others, we’ll look after them.”
A terrible suspicion seized me. “You and Sister and what others?”
“She did tell you there were more of us,” she said, standing and nodding at the stove, where the pot of soup was presently stirring itself.
“You’re spirit-born.” A giggle escaped m
e. “And you can cook with your mind.”
“Here, now.” Annie helped me up from the stool. “What you need, miss, is sleep and lots of it. Sister and I’ll manage, and I’ll wake you in time for dinner.”
I nodded tiredly and trudged to the door. Before I stepped out, I glanced back at Annie. “Just how many others like us are there? Do you know?”
She made a face. “Can’t count so good.” She looked round the kitchen and pointed to the wall. “They stored grain in the walls here once, didn’t they?” When I nodded, she said, “There are more of us than that.”
My eyes widened. “You mean, more than the amount of grain it takes to fill the wall?”
“All the walls in the house, miss,” she corrected. “And maybe some of your neighbors’ walls.”
I couldn’t count that high, I thought as I trudged upstairs to make up one more room for myself. Although I meant to stay closer, my feet kept going until I was on the top floor in my old flat. My renovations hadn’t reached this level, and aside from some furnishings I’d carried down to my new quarters, the flat was almost exactly as it had been when I’d lived in the building as a tenant.
I was too tired to strip the bed, so I pulled back the slightly dusty coverlet to air the sheets, and opened the hearth flue to let some of the heat from downstairs warm the room. In the dresser I found a threadbare sleeping gown to wear and draped it over the drying stand by the hearth as I undressed.
Lady Bestly had been the first woman Lykaon had used as a vessel; in the days to come dozens of women would be delivering the children Harry had bespelled.
“Sister James is going to be very busy,” I muttered as I drew the old gown over my head. Something tickled my neck, and I reached to pull it out of my collar. The leather thong no longer held the carved shell pendant, but now sported a black feather with a deep blue sheen and three greenstone beads tied to its quill.
“Pretty pendant,” a low voice said, making me jump. “I like it much better than the other one.”
I closed my eyes for a moment. “Tommy Doyle, if you stood there and watched me undress without saying a word, I’m going to report you for a peeper.” I took the feather over to the dresser and dropped it into the drawer before I turned round. “How are you?”
