Hawk and Fisher

by Simon R. Green

  Hawk clung desperately to the door. It was like standing on a narrow ledge and looking out over a bottomless drop. No matter where he looked there was only the dark, as though the house were falling on and on into an endless night. A cold wind blew from nowhere, searing his bare face and hands. Hawk swallowed sickly, and with a great effort tore his eyes away from the dark. He stepped back, and slammed the door shut. He moved quickly away from the door and leaned against the nearest wall while he got his breath back. His hands and face were numb from the cold, but feeling quickly returned as the summer heat inside the house drove the cold out of him. He smiled slightly. If nothing else, he had established that the house was very definitely isolated from the outside world. He wondered how Fisher was getting on.

  When Fisher had entered the parlor, the assembled guests met her with a frosty silence. They were sitting together in a group, having apparently discovered that there was comfort as well as safety in numbers. They made an ill-assorted group, with some fully dressed and some still in their nightclothes. (Catherine Blackstone was once again sitting by the empty fireplace. She'd regained some of her composure, but her face was still very pale and her eyes were red and swollen. She held a handkerchief in one hand as though she'd forgotten it was there. Stalker sat beside her, drinking thirstily from a newly filled glass of wine. Lord and Lady Hightower sat together, staring into the empty fireplace, both lost in their own thoughts. Visage had pulled her chair up next to Dorimant's, and she leaned tiredly against him, his arm round her shoulders. The young witch looked frightened and confused, while Dorimant looked stubbornly protective. Gaunt was sitting nearest the door, and stood up as Fisher entered.

  "Well, Captain Fisher, what have you found?"

  "Nothing particularly helpful, sir sorcerer. Judging from the extent of his wounds, it seems likely Edward Bowman was attacked by a madman or an animal. Or by someone who wanted it to look like an animal attack."

  Gaunt raised an eyebrow. "Why should anyone want to do that?"

  "Beats me," said Fisher. "Nothing in this case seems to make sense."

  "Some things never do, girl," said Stalker. "You learn that as you get older."

  Fisher looked at him sharply. There had been something in his voice, something… bitter. Stalker finished off the last of the wine and stared moodily into the empty glass. Fisher turned back to Gaunt.

  "Earlier on this evening. Hawk asked you to run some tests on the wine Blackstone was drinking just before his death," she said quietly. "Did you take a sample to test?"

  "I'm afraid not," said Gaunt. "I was going to do it first thing in the morning."

  "Damn."

  "Is there a problem, Captain Fisher?"

  "You could say that. Someone has removed the wineglass from Blackstone's room."

  "You should have put a guard on the door," said Lord Hightower suddenly. His voice was flat and harsh.

  "We could have, my Lord," said Fisher. "But we thought it more important to protect all of you against further attacks."

  "You failed at that too," said Hightower. "I'll have your heads for this incompetence, both of you!"

  Fisher started to answer him, and then stopped as Gaunt's head suddenly snapped round to stare at the hall.

  "Someone's trying to open the front door!"

  "It's all right, sir Gaunt," said Fisher quickly. "It's only Hawk. He's just checking that the house is properly secure."

  Gaunt relaxed a little, and stared sardonically at Fisher. "You mean he's checking the isolation spell. What's the matter, Captain? Don't you trust me anymore?"

  "We don't trust anyone," said Fisher carefully. "That's our job, sir sorcerer."

  Gaunt nodded curtly. "Of course, Captain. I understand."

  "Then you'll also understand why we have to search all the rooms on the ground floor."

  Gaunt frowned. "You've already seen them once."

  "Not all of them, sir sorcerer. We haven't seen the kitchen, or your laboratory."

  "My laboratory is strictly private," said Gaunt. "No one uses it but me. There's really no need for you to check it; you felt the avoidance spell yourself. It's impossible for anyone to enter the laboratory apart from myself."

  "We'll still have to check it," said Fisher.

  "I can't allow that," said Gaunt flatly.

  "I'm afraid I must insist."

  "No."

  "Then we'll have to arrest you," said Fisher.

  "On what charge?"

  "We'll think of something."

  Gaunt smiled coldly. "Do you really think you have the power to arrest me?" he said softly.

  "We can give it a damn good try," said Hawk.

  Everyone looked round to see Hawk standing in the parlor doorway, axe in hand. Gaunt started to raise his left hand, and then stopped as Fisher drew her sword in a single swift movement that set the tip of her blade against his ribs. Gaunt stood very still. The guests watched in a fascinated silence. Hawk took a firm grip on his axe. The tension in the parlor stretched almost to breaking point. And then Gaunt took a deep breath and let it out, and some of the strength seemed to go out of him with it.

  "I could kill you both," he said quietly, "but what would be the point? They'd only send somebody else. And much as it pains me to admit it, you're the best chance I've got of finding William's killer. I will show you my laboratory. But if either of you ever draws steel on me again, I'll strike you down where you stand. Is that clear?"

  "I hear you," said Hawk. "Now let's take a look at this laboratory of yours. Fisher, you come with us. Everyone else, stay here. We won't be long."

  "One moment," said Stalker, rising unhurriedly to his feet. "You still have my sword. Captain Hawk. I'm afraid I must ask you to return it. With the murderer still loose in the house, somebody has to be able to protect these people."

  Hawk nodded reluctantly, drew Stalker's sword from his belt, and stepped forward to hold it out to Stalker hilt first. Although it was nowhere near as heavy as Stalker's broadsword, the weight of the sword was still almost too much for Hawk to support one-handed. Stalker took the sword from him as though it were a child's toy. Hawk bowed politely, and turned to Gaunt.

  "Shall we go, sir sorcerer?"

  Gaunt led the way out of the parlor, across the hall, and into the library in tight-lipped silence. Hawk and Fisher followed close behind. Neither of them had put away their weapons. Gaunt opened the door into the kitchen and waved Hawk and Fisher through. They had a quick look round, but it looked like any other well-stocked kitchen, though surprisingly tidy for a man living on his own. They went back into the library, and found Gaunt standing before the laboratory door.

  "Your partner asked me about the wine sample," said

  Gaunt, not looking around. "I'm afraid I didn't take one. But I can assure you the wine was perfectly harmless. My magic would have told me if it was poisonous. I even tasted some myself, remember?"

  "That's not really the point," said Hawk patiently. "The wineglass must have been important in some way, or it wouldn't have been taken. Did Fisher ask you about the secret passages?"

  "No," said Gaunt. "I can see what you're suggesting, Captain, but there are no secret passages or hidden doors in this house. If there were, my magic would have found them."

  "I see," said Hawk. "Well, then, I think that's all we have to talk about, sir sorcerer. Now, why don't you take off the avoidance spell and open that door?"

  "I can't," said Gaunt quietly. "There is no avoidance spell."

  Hawk and Fisher looked at each other, and then at the sorcerer.

  "Then what the hell was it we felt?" asked Hawk.

  Gaunt turned round and looked at them. He held his head high but his eyes were full of a quiet desperation. "She is my Lady," he said simply. "No one knows she's here. No one but me, and now you. If either of you ever talk about her to anyone else, I'll kill you. You'll understand why when you see her."

  He turned back to the door and took a key from a hidden inner pocket. Hawk and Fisher lo
oked at each other and shrugged. Gaunt unlocked the door, pushed it open, and walked forward into his laboratory. Hawk and Fisher followed him in, and then stopped just inside the doorway. Hawk clutched at his axe, and Fisher lifted her sword. The succubus smiled at them sweetly.

  She reclined lazily in the pentacle, her feet just brushing the edge of the blue chalk lines. Hawk swallowed dryly. He'd never seen anyone so beautiful. He wanted her, he had to have her; he'd kill anyone who tried to stop him. He stepped forward, and Fisher grabbed his arm. He tried to pull free, and when he couldn't he spun furiously on Fisher and lifted his axe to split her skull. Their eyes met, and he hesitated. Reality came flooding back, and he slowly lowered his axe, horrified at what he'd almost done. He looked at the succubus again, and felt the same insane desire stir within him. He fought it down ruthlessly, and wouldn't look away until he was sure the beautiful creature no longer had any hold over him. He looked at Gaunt, standing beside him with his head bowed.

  "You fool," said Hawk softly. "You bloody fool."

  "Yes," said Gaunt. "Oh, yes."

  The succubus laughed sweetly. "Visitors. It's not often I'm allowed visitors."

  Fisher stirred uncomfortably. "Is that what I think it is?"

  "Yes," said Hawk grimly. "That's a succubus. A female demon, the embodiment of sexual attraction."

  Fisher looked at the creature in the pentacle, and shuddered. She felt a strange attraction burning deep within her, and her skin crawled. She shook her head sharply, and the feeling slowly died away. Fisher glared coldly at Gaunt. "No wonder you didn't want us in here. Your friends in the parlor would disown you in a moment at the merest hint that you kept a succubus under your roof. When did you summon her out of the dark?"

  "A long time ago," said Gaunt. "Please. She's no danger to anyone. She can't leave the pentacle except at my bidding, and she can't leave the house at all. My wards see to that."

  "You let her out once, though, didn't you?" said Hawk. "You let her loose in the Hook, and she killed at your command."

  "Yes," said Gaunt. "But that was the only time. She was under my control…"

  "I was there," said Hawk harshly. "I saw what she did to those men. It took weeks to get the stench of the blood off the streets. She's too dangerous, Gaunt. It would only take one slip on your part, and she'd be loose. With her power, she could destroy all Haven in a single night. You have to dismiss her, Gaunt. You have to send her back into the darkness."

  "I can't," said Gaunt miserably. "Do you think I haven't tried? To begin with I couldn't because she was the source of my power. Without her, I was just another alchemist, with only a smattering of the High Magic. And then… I grew to need her. She's like a drug I have to have. Women don't mean anything to me anymore; they can't compare with her. I have to have her. I can't give her up. I won't. If you try to make me, I'll kill you."

  His voice was uneven and feverish, and there was a fey look in his eyes. Fisher lifted her sword a little.

  "Don't," said Hawk quickly. Fisher looked at him, and Hawk smiled grimly. "Unfortunately, if Gaunt dies his hold over the demon is gone, and she would be free of all restraints. For the time being at least, we have to keep him alive."

  "Am I really so terrible?" asked the succubus. Her voice was slow and deep and soft as bitter honey. "I am love and joy and pleasure…"

  "And you'd kill us all if it weren't for that pentacle," said Hawk. "I've met demons before. You kill to live, and live to kill. You know nothing but destruction." He met her gaze unflinchingly with his one remaining eye, and the succubus looked away first.

  "You're strong," said the succubus. "Such a pity. Still, I think I'll enjoy killing you, when the time comes. After all, Gaunt can't deny me anything. Can you, darling?"

  "These death threats are starting to get on my nerves," said Fisher. "The next person to threaten Hawk or me is going to regret it, because I will personally chop them into chutney. You remember, demon: a sword blade doesn't care how powerful you are."

  The succubus just smiled at her.

  "Please," said Gaunt. "There's no need for any of this. As you can see, there's nowhere here an assassin could be hiding. You must leave. Now."

  Hawk looked around him, refusing to be hurried. The laboratory was jammed with solid wooden benches, half-buried under various alchemical equipment, and all four walls were lined with simple wooden shelves bearing stoppered glass bottles in various sizes. Fisher moved over to examine some of the bottles. One large specimen contained a severed monkey's head. Fisher leaned forward to get a closer look, and the head opened its eyes and smiled at her. She stepped back, startled. The monkey's head winked at her slyly, and then closed its eyes again.

  "Hawk," said Fisher, "let's get the hell out of here."

  Hawk nodded, and he and Fisher backed slowly out of the laboratory and into the library. Neither of them felt entirely safe in turning their backs on the succubus. Gaunt backed out after them. The succubus blew him a kiss, and chuckled richly. Gaunt slammed the door shut on her, and locked it. When he turned round to face Hawk and Fisher, they saw a sheen of sweat on his face. He squared his shoulders and did his best to meet their accusing eyes.

  "I know I have to get rid of her," he said quietly. "Perhaps when this is over…"

  "Yes," said Hawk. "Perhaps. We'll talk more about this later. In the meantime, I want you to do something for me."

  "If I can," said Gaunt. "What is it?"

  "I want you to set up a truthspell."

  The sorcerer frowned. "Are you sure that's wise. Captain?"

  "You can do it, can't you?"

  "Of course I can do it," snapped Gaunt. "It's not exactly a complicated spell; in fact, it's something of an interest of mine. But the spell only lasts for a limited time, and if you're not very careful about the questions you ask, the answers you get will be worthless. There are all kinds of truth, Captain Hawk. And I should point out that some of the people here aren't going to take kindly to the idea of being questioned under a truthspell…"

  "I'll deal with that," said Hawk. "All you have to do is set up the spell. I take full responsibility."

  "Very well," said Gaunt. "Where do you want the spell cast?"

  "In the parlor," said Hawk. "Why don't you go on in and break the news to them? They might take it better, coming from you. Fisher and I will join you in a minute."

  Gaunt bowed politely and left the library. Hawk waited until the door was closed, and then sank tiredly into the nearest chair. Fisher pulled up another chair and sat down beside him.

  "A succubus…" said Hawk slowly. "I'd heard about such things, but I never thought I'd actually meet one."

  "Right," said Fisher. "I feel like I want to take a bath, just from being in the same room with her. All right, she was beautiful, but she made my skin creep every time she looked at me."

  "Yeah," said Hawk.

  They sat in silence a while, thinking.

  "Hawk, do you really think Gaunt let the succubus loose in the Hook?"

  "It seems likely."

  "The bodies you found there; you said they'd been ripped apart. Like Bowman?"

  Hawk frowned. "Not really; the Hook was much worse. But I see your point, Isobel. The succubus has to be a suspect, either as the murderer or the murder weapon. Gaunt can let her out of that pentacle any time he likes. At the time of the first murder Gaunt said he was in the kitchen, but he could easily have slipped out long enough to release the succubus. All he had to do was go via the library, and we'd never have seen him. The succubus's powers are probably limited in the house by the sorcerer's wards, but she could still have killed Blackstone and Bowman while Gaunt remained in plain view, giving him a perfect alibi."

  "Except he wasn't in plain view during either of the murders," said Fisher. "Besides, could something like a succubus prowl around the house without Visage detecting it?"

  "I don't know," said Hawk. "She sensed there was something nasty in the library, even though the demon was shielded by the pentacle. B
ut then again, she's not in the same class as Gaunt…"

  "A succubus," said Fisher. "Just what we needed. Another suspect with magical powers."

  Hawk laughed. "It's not that bad, lass. If the succubus had intended to kill someone, I really can't see her stabbing them neatly through the heart and then scurrying back later to steal their wineglass. It doesn't make sense."

  "When has this case ever made sense?"

  "You might just have a point there," said Hawk. "Come on, let's get back to the parlor. Maybe the truthspell will help to sort things out."

  "We're going to have some trouble there," said Fisher. "They're really not going to be happy about the truthspell."

  "I don't give a rat's arse," said Hawk. "One way or the other, I'm going to get some answers out of them, and to hell with the consequences."

  Fisher looked at him fondly. "What the hell; we're still young. We can get other jobs. Let's do it."

  They left the library and went into the parlor. The guests were arguing furiously with Gaunt. Hawk raised his voice and called for everyone's attention. There was a sudden hush as everyone turned to stare at him. He looked about him, taking in the silent, hostile faces, and knew that Gaunt hadn't been able to persuade them. Not that he'd expected it for one minute.

  "Just in case there's any doubt among you," he said steadily, "Edward Bowman is dead. From the nature of his wounds, it's clear it was a frenzied and vicious attack. This second murder means that I have no choice but to proceed with the official investigation now, rather than wait for my superiors in the morning. I have therefore instructed the sorcerer Gaunt to set up a truthspell."

  Instead of the babble of outrage he'd expected, Hawk found himself facing a stubborn, unyielding silence. They'd all clearly decided they weren't going to cooperate. That's the trouble with politics, thought Hawk sourly. Everyone's got something to hide.