Wolf in the Fold h&f-4

by Simon R. Green

  lamp on the wall, and without hesitating snatched it from its niche and threw it

  at Marc with all her strength. She just had time for a brief fantasy of his

  being consumed by blazing oil, and then Marc's hand shot up and snatched the

  lamp effortlessly out of midair. He put it gently down on a nearby chair, and

  smiled condescendingly.

  "Your problem, Holly, is that you keep thinking I'm human. And I'm not. Not

  really. Why don't I show you what I look like? What I really look like. Would

  you like that?"

  Holly tried to say something, but her throat had clamped shut, and she couldn't

  make a sound. She'd somehow ended up by the desk, and her desperate gaze fell

  upon a slim silver letter opener. She looked quickly away again in case Marc had

  noticed, but his gaze seemed fixed on her. For the first time, he'd stopped

  smiling. Something stirred in her mind, like suddenly becoming aware of a

  background noise that had just stopped. Marc seemed to ripple and flow, like

  something far away seen through a heat haze, and then Marc was gone and the

  freak stood before her.

  Her first thought was That's not so bad. She'd been expecting something hideous,

  some awful misshapen thing, with fangs and claws and bulging eyes, but instead

  he looked surprisingly ordinary. He was average height but very thin and bony,

  wrapped in clothes that were too big for him. Marc's clothes. Holly supposed

  that wearing them made the illusion easier to maintain. Or perhaps it just made

  the freak feel more like an ordinary man. His left arm and leg were severely

  twisted, and his left shoulder was clearly lower than the other, but none of it

  was enough to mark him as a freak. And then she looked at his face, and didn't

  know whether to laugh or scream. It was a normal enough face, surrounded by long

  greasy hair and a stringy beard, and flecked with blood from a recent scalp

  wound, but sometime in the past, the mouth had been sewn together. The heavy

  black stitches had sunk deep into the lips, compressing them into a thin white

  line. Holly wondered who'd done it; presumably the father, before walling the

  freak up in his cell. And why not? she thought crazily. He doesn't need a mouth,

  after all.

  "How do you speak?" she said shrilly.

  The mouth twitched in something that might have been meant as a smile. "It's all

  part of the illusion, my dear. You hear what I want you to hear. But this has

  gone on long enough, I think. It's time."

  He started towards her, his laughter sounding in her mind. She snatched up the

  letter opener from the desk and thrust it between his ribs. He grunted once, a

  dark hungry sound like a pig at its trough, and grabbed both her arms, ignoring

  the blood coursing down his side. Holly tried to struggle, but all the strength

  went out of her at his touch. She couldn't even scream as the freak's thin white

  mouth slowly widened into a grin, the heavy stitches tearing through his lips.

  And then a section of the library wall swung open, and Hawk and Fisher plunged

  out into the room. The freak spun round, throwing Holly to one side. Hawk

  hesitated just long enough to take in the situation, and then cut at the freak

  with his sword. The freak raised his arm at the last moment, and the blade cut

  into his arm instead of his throat. Hawk danced back out of range as the freak

  reached for him, blood dripping unheeded from his arm. Fisher circled round to

  try and get behind him. Holly struggled to get to her feet. Hawk stepped in to

  cut at the freak again, and fell to his knees as every muscle in his body turned

  to mush. He shook his head sickly, managing somehow to still hang on to his

  sword, though he no longer had the strength to lift it. The freak reached down

  and took Hawk's face in his hand. The fingers tightened, and Hawk's cheekbones

  shifted and creaked under the rising pressure. Fisher snatched a burning brand

  from the fire and thrust it at the freak's back. The strength went out of her

  fingers as she came within range, and the burning brand fell from her grasp onto

  the rug before the fireplace. Flames leapt up as the rug caught fire.

  Holly threw herself at the freak, the sudden weight catching him by surprise and

  knocking him away from Hawk. The freak landed on his back on the burning rug,

  and flames leapt up around him as his clothes caught fire. He surged to his feet

  again, throwing Holly to one side, and lurched back and forth, beating

  ineffectually at his burning clothes with his hands. There was a silent puff of

  blue flames as his hair ignited. Hawk and Fisher had got some of their strength

  back, and were on their feet again. Hawk still had his sword, and Fisher

  snatched up a heavy footstool to use as a club. Holly rose to her feet, ignoring

  her smouldering clothes, and looked around for something to use as a weapon. The

  freak turned his back on them and made for the door. He tore apart the

  barricade, throwing aside the bulky furniture with inhuman strength, and pulled

  open the door. He staggered out into the corridor, and Hawk and Fisher went

  after him.

  The flames were leaping high now, and his skin was beginning to blacken, but

  still he never made a sound. He glanced back at his pursuers, made for the

  stairs, and then stopped as he looked up and saw Jamie leading his party down

  the stairs towards him. The freak looked back and forth, his mutilated mouth

  twisted in a snarl, and then his power leapt out, driven beyond its usual limits

  by hate and desperation. One by one those on the stairs slumped to the ground,

  their eyes slowly closing as the last bit of strength drained from them, until

  only Alistair remained on his feet. He advanced slowly down the stairs, his face

  eerily lit by the flames that still leapt around the freak.

  "It's no use, boy," he said softly, so that only the freak would hear. "Your

  power can't affect me. I'm no more human than you are."

  They stood face to face for a moment, staring at each other, and then Alistair's

  sword shot out and buried itself in the freak's chest. He collapsed silently to

  the floor, twitched a few times and lay still, curled around his death wound.

  The leaping flames tugged at his clothes, but did not stir him. Alistair pulled

  out the sword, and then carefully and methodically cut off the freak's head,

  just in case. One by one, the others rose unsteadily to their feet as strength

  flowed slowly back into them. Alistair sheathed his sword, and went over to

  Hawk.

  "It seems I owe you an apology. I was so sure you were the freak. But then, I'm

  only human."

  Back in the library, the room became a bedlam as everyone talked at once,

  explaining and apologizing and generally relaxing. Holly fussed around Arthur,

  wrapping his broken hand in a cloth and trying to clean the blood from his face

  with a handkerchief soaked in wine. David kept squeezing Arthur's shoulder, and

  telling him incoherently how well he'd done. But finally Jamie confronted Hawk,

  and everyone else shut up so they could listen.

  "I think you owe us some answers," said Jamie. "All right, we were wrong about

  you being the freak. I'm sorry, but you have been behaving very suspiciously.

  Who are you, really, and what a
re you doing here? And what the hell happened to

  your eye?"

  "I can't tell you who I am," said Hawk flatly. "But I can tell you why I'm here.

  Isobel and I came here looking for someone."

  "Who?"

  Hawk turned and looked at David. "Do you want to tell them, or shall I?"

  David shrugged, and met the MacNeil's gaze unflinchingly. "Sorry, Jamie, but I'm

  afraid I've rather let the side down. I'm a spy. I stumbled across a piece of

  information I knew Outremer would pay a hell of a lot for, and the temptation

  was just too great. I needed the money, you see. I owe a hell of a lot, what

  with one thing and another, much more than you ever knew about, and some of my

  creditors were becoming very insistent. There was even talk of debtors' prison.

  My Family had already made it clear they wouldn't be responsible for my debts

  anymore, and without their backing the moneylenders wouldn't even see me.

  "It wasn't difficult, making contact with Outremer. You'd be surprised how many

  agents they have here in the city. But in the end it all went wrong, and I ended

  up running for my life. So I came here, to hide out while I waited for my

  contact to show up. I had to come anyway, to see what Holly was going to get

  from the will. I was banking on her inheriting a fortune, to get me out of the

  hole I'd dug for myself. She'd have loaned me what I needed. Hell, you'd have

  given it to me outright, wouldn't you, Holly? You never could deny me anything."

  "Why the hell didn't you ask me for the money?" said Jamie hotly. "I wouldn't

  have let you go under, for the sake of a miserable few thousand ducats."

  "I couldn't ask you, or any of my friends," said David. "I didn't want you to

  know what a fool I'd made of myself. I have my pride. It's all I've got left

  now. I won't give it up. I won't stand trial, either. Arthur, look after Holly."

  He turned and ran out the door, and into the corridor. Hawk and Fisher went

  after him. Hawk paused at the door to order everyone else to stay put in the

  library, and then he and Fisher charged down the corridor and up the stairs in

  pursuit of David Brook. They were both tired after their struggle with the

  freak, and David soon outdistanced them. They pressed on, following the sound of

  his feet on the stairs. They passed the second floor and the third, and still

  David led them on.

  "Where the hell does he think he's going?" panted Fisher. "There's nowhere left

  now but the battlements, and once he's there, we've got him cornered."

  "Not necessarily," said Hawk. "There's still one way down, if he wants to take

  it."

  They finally burst out into the morning air, and found David sitting on the edge

  of the far parapet wall, waiting for them. Fisher started forward, but Hawk put

  a restraining hand on her arm. The sunlight was almost painfully bright after

  the gloom of the third floor, and Hawk stood quietly a moment, letting his eye

  adjust. David sat patiently, his legs dangling over the long drop. He was

  smiling slightly.

  "Come away from the edge," said Hawk finally. "It's dangerous."

  "Look at the view," said David. "Isn't it marvelous? It feels like you can see

  forever."

  "Is that why you dragged us all the way up here?" said Fisher. "To admire the

  view?"

  David shrugged, and smiled. "I won't ask you how I gave myself away. It doesn't

  matter. I was pretty much an amateur at the spying game, anyway. But I would

  like to know who you really are."

  "Hawk and Fisher, Captains in the city Guard," said Hawk. "We're the ones who

  chased you through half of Haven last night."

  David raised an eyebrow. "I'm impressed. I've heard some of the stories they

  tell about you two. Are they true?"

  "Some of them," said Hawk.

  "What did you do with the sorcerer Grimm?"

  "We killed him," said Fisher.

  "Good," said David. "The city probably smells better now he's gone. I wouldn't

  have dealt with him at all if my contact hadn't insisted."

  "Who was your contact?" said Hawk.

  David shrugged. "It was always someone different. They didn't trust me enough to

  let me see anyone important."

  "What about the information?" said Fisher. "What was so important that so many

  people had to risk their lives because of it?"

  David stared out across the sea. "The Monarch of Outremer is coming here, to

  Haven, to meet with our King and hammer out a Peace Treaty to put an end to the

  border clashes, before they start really getting out of hand. But there are

  those on both sides who would profit greatly from a war, people who don't want

  the peace talks to succeed. Knowing the exact date and time and place of those

  talks was therefore of very great value to those with an interest in sabotaging

  them. And I knew. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time,

  and nosy enough to look at a sheet of paper left lying carelessly on a desk. And

  that's how it all started. As simply as that."

  "Come away from the edge," said Hawk. "You might fall."

  "I'm not going back," said David. "If I were put on trial, it would disgrace my

  Family's name. I can't do that. I've been enough of a disappointment to them as

  it is. Besides, my friends would be found guilty by association, just for

  knowing me. And Holly would be hounded, ostracized, because she was close to me.

  I can't have that. I think Holly could be happy with Arthur. Don't you?"

  "Yes," said Hawk. "He cares for her."

  "Good," said David, and pushed himself out and away from the wall. He didn't

  scream, all the way down to the rocks at the bottom of the cliffs.

  Chapter Eight

  Saying Goodbye

  The wards finally went down at ten o'clock the next morning. A subtle vibration

  came and went on the air, and the solid weight of Tower MacNeil seemed to settle

  itself more comfortably, and as suddenly and simply as that, it was over. Hawk

  ceremoniously opened the front door, and he and Fisher stepped out into the

  brisk morning air. It was a fine sunny morning, with only the cold nip of the

  wind to remind them of how close winter was. Gulls rode the wind on outstretched

  wings, crying and keening, and from far below came the endless crash of waves on

  the rocks.

  Only Jamie and Robbie Brennan were there to say goodbye, and Hawk and Fisher

  were just as happy that way. It had been an uncomfortable time for all of them,

  waiting for the wards to go down. Hawk and Fisher might have saved the day, but

  their very presence was a reminder of things the MacNeils were eager to forget.

  The four of them stood together a moment, two within the Tower and two without,

  none of them sure what to say for the best. In the end, Jamie coughed awkwardly,

  and they all looked at him expectantly.

  "You've done my Family a great service," he said firmly. "The freak is finally

  at rest, and the MacNeils are free of their Curse, if not their Shame. I wish

  you'd let me reward you in some way. Just saying thanks doesn't seem nearly

  enough."

  "Thanks are all we want," said Hawk. "We're just grateful you haven't insisted

  on knowing who we really are."

  "I have a strong feeling I should," said Jamie, trying not to stare at Hawk's


  closed right eye, "But I'm equally sure I wouldn't like the answer. You'd

  probably only lie, anyway."

  Hawk and Fisher grinned, and said nothing.

  "I'm afraid we're all the send-off you're going to get," said Brennan. "The

  others have all managed to be very busy just at the moment. Holly and Lord

  Arthur are comforting each other, as best they can. For the moment they both

  miss David too much to think of anything else, but I wouldn't be surprised if

  they ended up staying together. I think they'd be good for each other. Who

  knows? Maybe she'll even stop him drinking."

  Hawk smiled. "It's possible, I suppose. Stranger things have happened."

  "Aunt Katrina is upstairs packing," said Jamie. "I told her she was still

  welcome to stay as long as she wished, but it would appear she can't wait to

  leave. She says she doesn't feel safe here anymore. I can understand that. I've

  lived all my life in the Tower, and I don't feel the same about it now. It's as

  though an old and trusted friend had suddenly revealed a dark and violent side

  to his nature, something you'd never even suspected before. I'll probably get

  over it, but I don't think I'll ever really trust the Tower again."

  "Where's she going?" said Hawk.

  Jamie shrugged. "Back to the city. I don't think she herself knows where she's

  going yet."

  "Maybe she'll go back to her husband," said Fisher.

  "I hope not," said Brennan. "For his sake. I wouldn't wish Katrina on my worst

  enemy. At least not unless I was in a really nasty mood."

  "What about Alistair?" said Hawk. "He spent most of yesterday evening trying to

  avoid us."

  "He's around somewhere," said Jamie. "Hiding his face. I think he still feels

  guilty about accusing you of being the freak. No doubt he'll turn up again, once

  you're safely gone."

  There was another pause as they ran out of polite, unimportant things to say.

  "I'm sorry about David," said Hawk finally. "He wasn't a bad sort. We would have

  taken him alive, if we could."

  "I know that," said Jamie. "I've no doubt it happened just the way you

  described. David was many things, but he was never a coward. He knew there was

  only one thing he could do to protect his Family, and he did it. I don't know

  what I'm going to tell them. Some of the truth is bound to come out, eventually.