Finn looked down at his plate. "I'm not hungry anymore."
* * *
"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," Kate said while they were getting a bag for Finn's pastries. The hob was still sitting at their table staring morosely out the window.
"It'll be okay," Jacky said. "I think he just likes to build things up."
"He didn't build up those guys back at your apartment."
Jacky frowned. "No. But we've got to wait until tomorrow morning to leave anyway, and it doesn't matter which way we go back to your place – there's the chance that the Host will be watching us. It's tonight at your house that's worrying me, not the getting there.
"Thanks," she added as the red-haired girl behind the counter handed her the bag with Finn's pastries in it.
"We could have a party," Kate said.
"What?"
"A party. Tonight. We'll invite all the bruisers we know and have all sorts of protection."
Jacky laughed. "We don't know any bruisers."
"Then we'll just have to meet some."
"I think you're almost serious."
Kate winked. "Maybe I am," she said as they returned to their table to collect Finn.
* * *
By day, the park across from the Gruagagh's Tower was a different place. There were no bikers, no giants. The Rideau River moved slowly along the south side of the green. Dried reeds rustled in the breeze. The swans were gone now, but flocks of ducks floated close to shore, hoping for handouts. There was a football game in progress as they entered the park's Bank Street entrance. The teams were short, only five men to each side, but what they lacked in numbers, they more than made up for in enthusiasm. On the path by the river two women with strollers were walking. A jogger moved around them onto the grass as he passed and soon left them behind.
"That's the Gruagagh's Tower," Jacky said, pointing it out. "The one with the backyard all overgrown."
"It looks deserted."
"I think it is, except for him." A big shout came from the football players as one team scored a touchdown.
"And there are your bruisers," Jacky added with a grin.
"I think I'll pass," Kate said. "Can we walk closer to the house?"
"Sure. Only don't expect to see much from here because …" Jacky paused as Finn plucked at her shirt sleeve. She shifted her jacket from one arm to the other as she turned to him.
"We can't stay," he said urgently.
"Why? What's wrong?"
"I don't know. I just feel it in my bones. There's a glamour lying thick and deep here, just waiting to ensnare us."
"A glamour …?"
Jacky looked around as she spoke. The day, the park and the people in it, all seemed so ordinary. But then she remembered what had been waiting for them in her apartment, and last night's mad flight from the biker flooded her mind. God, she could be so stupid. What was she doing, bringing them all here when she knew – she knew – how real the dangers were? It was as though ever since the attack in her apartment, she'd decided that they'd won the war. But all it had been was one small engagement.
"Which way should we go?" she asked.
"Back the way we came," Finn replied. "Come. Quickly now."
Jacky nodded. But it all felt so normal still. Her pulse drummed, but there was nothing that she could see that she could even pretend was a danger to them.
The women with their strollers were almost out of sight. The football players had just begun a new play. The quarterback pumped his arm and the ball went spinning, a high, long pass in their direction. The ball was caught about twenty yards away from where they were standing, the man who caught it grinning with pleasure. His teammates worked to block the tacklers that were coming in from either side. And then –
Then it was too late.
Before Jacky could turn, before she could put proper use to the swiftness stitcheries that Finn had sewn into her sneakers, they were upon her. At the last moment, their forms shimmered. They were college-aged men and bogans at the same time. The foremost man threw the football aside and hit her hard, scooping her up under his arm. Her breath went out of her in a whoosh at the impact. Her jacket, with the redcap in its pocket, went flying from her grip.
"Got her, got her, GOT HERRRRR!" her captor roared. There was no more attempt at disguise as the bogans charged through the park, their captive held fast. They cheered and shook their fists in the air.
Kate saw Finn go down as he tried to rescue Jacky, and then a football player's fist smashed into the side of her head and sent her spinning. She tried to rise, the whole world turning dizzily around in her vision, but another of the men stopped long enough to kick her in the stomach. She buckled over, bile rising in her throat. When she finally pulled herself up to her knees, the park was eerily empty except for herself, Finn who lay a half-dozen paces away from her, and the blue jacket that Jacky had dropped.
Kate crawled toward Finn. Every movement of her head brought tears of pain to her eyes. Her stomach felt as though something had ruptured inside. When she finally reached Finn, it took all her strength to turn him over. A trickle of blood escaped the corner of his mouth and he was so pale that she was sure he was dead. His face had a greyish cast to it and he lay utterly still.
She brought her cheek down to his face and held it there until she was sure that what she felt on her skin was his breath. So he was alive at least. But Jacky … She looked despairingly in the direction that the attackers had taken her friend.
What in God's name could she do now? She looked back at Finn, but he was in worse shape than she was. There was no one she could think of that she could go to with a story this weird. The police would think she was nuts. God, anybody would think she was nuts.
Slowly she got to her feet and stood swaying. She'd get the jacket. And then she'd – God, it was hard to think – then she'd what? Her gaze fell on the unkempt lawn of the Gruagagh's Tower. Then she'd make him help her. She started for the jacket when a voice stopped her.
"Fools."
She turned slowly to find Crowdie Wort's forester regarding her.
"Moon and stars!" he cried. "What possessed you to return here? Surely you'd at least guess that they were waiting for you?"
Kate decided to ignore him. Step by careful step she made her way to the jacket, picked it up. She saw the redcap sticking out of the pocket and plucked it out, putting it on as she turned back. Arkan Garty's glamour fled him as the redcap settled in place.
He was no longer tall and no longer … human. His skin was a reddish brown, his head narrow and more a fox's than a man's. The jeans and jean jacket he had been wearing had now become some weird tunic and trousers that looked as though they were just leaves and feathers and bits of fur all stitched together.
"Did they tear out your tongue, girl?"
Kate took a quick breath to settle the drum of her pulse. I didn't do much good. There was a weird light in the forester's eyes that seemed to say that he was capable of anything, but surprisingly, she wasn't afraid of him.
"What … what do you want?" she asked.
"I was charged to watch out for you."
"Well, you didn't … do such a good job, did you?"
The light in his eyes flickered dangerously. "If you'd kept to safe ways," he began, but Kate cut him off.
"Did you see where they took her? Where they took Jacky?"
He shook his head. "I lost them on the Laird's Road, but they left a trail that I can follow. It's not easy to miss the stink of a bogan and a pack that big will be easy to track. I came back to see if you needed help."
"Bogans …," Kate said, remembering the awful creatures in Jacky's apartment. She looked at Finn then back at the forester. "And … now?" she asked, wishing her head didn't ache so. "Are you going after them?"
"That's for Crowdie Wort to say when I bring news of this afternoon's work to him."
Kate nodded, then wished she hadn't moved her head. She looked at the forester and thought of what Jacky had told
her – how none of them would help the Laird's daughter. Instead they left it up to someone like Jacky, who wasn't even close to their match in magics and strength. Anger boiled up in her.
"Well, go bring him your news," she said softly. "And then crawl back into whatever hole it was that you came from. You and your people seem very good at arriving after the fact. And then you talk the talk, real good. But me, when I look at you all I see is a sniveling coward."
As she spoke the last words, she slipped on Jacky's blue jacket. From the look on Arkan's face, she knew that its stitcheries were working for her, as well.
"Little hob spells won't help you against the Unseelie Court!" he cried. "Don't you think that we'd want to help our own Laird's daughter? But the Giants' Keep won't be breached by strength alone and the Wild Hunt will track down and kill anyone who tries. The luck's gone out of us, just as it's run out for your friend. Moon and stars, if there was something we could do, we would. But the Host outnumbers us five to one and they have the Hunt!"
"Screw you too!" Kate called to him as she started painfully across the park toward the Gruagagh's Tower.
"Come back! Crowdie Wort will want to talk to you."
Kate glanced back to see him testing the air with his nose, looking for all the world like a dog casting for scent. Scent! She pushed herself to move more quickly. The jacket might hide her from his sight, but it wouldn't do anything about her scent. And she didn't dare let him take her back to this Crowdie Wort – whoever he was – because the Host had Jacky now, and if she didn't do something about rescuing her, no one would. Arkan and his people would let Jacky rot in the Giants' Keep the same way they did their own Laird's daughter. Clutching her stomach, she broke into a halting trot, aiming for the Gruagagh's Tower.
When she reached the hedge at the back of the Gruagagh's yard, she paused to look back again. Arkan had guessed her destination and was coming for her at a swift lope. She turned quickly and made her way across the overgrown backyard, reaching the Gruagagh's door at the same time as Arkan did.
He grabbed at the air around him, but Kate pressed close to the door and hammered on it, then dropped to her knees so that Arkan's arms cut the air above her head. Open, she told the door, but it was too late. Arkan's hand brushed her shoulder, returned and grabbed her, hauling her to her feet.
"You will come with me," he told her. "Moon and stars, girl! It's for your own good. The Gruagagh's not to be trusted."
Kate brought her knee up into his crotch and he doubled over, losing his grip on her. She hadn't been sure what kind of equipment a being like Arkan had between his legs and was happy to see that he had the same weakness as an ordinary man. She backed up against the door, flinching at the wild look in his eyes. His gaze raked back and forth across the small back porch, vainly seeking her.
"Damn you," he said from between clenched teeth. "I'm not the enemy."
Before Kate could reply, the door opened behind her and she tumbled backward. Strong hands caught her and set her back on her feet. She looked up, and up, and there was Jacky's Gruagagh looking down at her from his height. Apparently the jacket's properties didn't work against him. He gave her a long considering look, then turned his attention to Crowdie Wort's forester.
"And who is the enemy?" he asked softly. "The untrustworthy Gruagagh, perhaps?"
The change in Arkan was immediate. Kate could see the fear fill him.
"Oh … oh, no … your reverence …"
For a long moment the Gruagagh simply stared at Arkan, then he said, "Bring the hob here to my door – and gently."
Arkan nodded quickly and backed away. When he reached the bottom step of the porch, he turned and bolted for the park. Kate was sure he was going to just keep on running until he'd put as much distance as he could between himself and the Gruagagh, but he surprised her. When he reached Finn's still form, he lifted the hob into his arms and hurried back.
"They mean well," the Gruagagh said to Kate as they watched Arkan return with his burden. "But these are hard times."
"I … I suppose. It's just … I don't know. I'm not really sure who's who, and on what side just yet. Jacky's told me everything she knows, but that doesn't seem like a whole lot."
"Jacky," the Gruagagh breathed.
Arkan reached the porch just then and the Gruagagh took the hob from him, cradling Finn in his arms.
"Go back to Crowdie Wort and spill your tale," he told the forester. "And mark you don't forget to say a word or two against me while you're telling it."
"Oh, I wouldn't, your reverence."
"Not much you wouldn't," the Gruagagh said.
He turned and motioned for Kate to close the door and she did, getting a small sense of satisfaction out of seeing the fearful look that was still on Arkan as she shut the door in his face. But then she remembered why she was here, and where here was, and who here belonged to. Jacky said she'd liked the Gruagagh, but he seemed downright scary to Kate. Who was to say he could be trusted?
"Will … will Jacky be all right?" she asked.
Laying Finn down on the window seat, the Gruagagh lifted the hob's eyelids, one by one, to examine the rolled-back eyes. Only then did he glance at Kate. He seemed to consider her question for a long moment, but rather than answering it, he turned back to the hob again, making no reply.
Ten
Kate found the Gruagagh's Tower to be as strange as Jacky had described it. Wherever she looked she got the sensation of things sliding out of sight just as she settled her gaze in their direction. Ghostly furnishings were here and then gone. And in the darker corners there was movement of a different sort. She thought of rats and spiders, and moved closer to the window seat where the Gruagagh sat beside Finn. But when she looked at the Gruagagh's grim features, she found little comfort there.
He had pulled a fat leather shoulder bag from under the window seat and was now removing various vials, poultices and blankets. The bag, Kate thought, didn't look big enough to hold half of what he was taking out of it. The first thing he did, once he pushed the bag back under the window seat, was mix up some concoction in a small bowl, which he then handed to her.
"Drink some of this."
"No way," she said, beginning to back away.
"It won't harm you," he said. "Just take a mouthful."
Kate hesitated for a moment longer, then gingerly took the bowl from him. The liquid smelled awful, a sweet cloying odour.
"You came to me for help, did you not?" he said when she simply held the bowl without drinking. His voice was mild, but his gaze was fierce.
"Okay, okay," Kate said.
Screwing up her face, she drank down a large sip. Whatever it was tasted as foul as she'd imagined it would, but no sooner had she swallowed it, than a warm feeling spread from her stomach, easing her queasiness and clearing her head.
"What is this stuff?" she asked.
Rather than reply, the Gruagagh indicated that she should help him with Finn. While Kate held the hob's head and the bowl, the Gruagagh spooned small amounts of the remaining liquid between Finn's lips, stroking the hob's throat to make him swallow. Once some colour had returned to the little man's wan features, Kate stood to one side as the Gruagagh tended Finn's hurts. He rubbed a lotion onto the bruises on the hob's torso and applied a poultice to the little man's brow. Then he turned to Kate.
"Your turn," he said. "Sit here and lift your shirt."
Kate felt uneasy again, pulling up her shirt in front of the Gruagagh, but he maintained a professional, detached attitude throughout the examination, gave her an ointment to rub onto her bruise, and pronounced her as fit as she could be after a run-in with a pack of bogans.
He made a bed for Finn in the corner of the room using the blankets he'd pulled from his seemingly bottomless bag, then brought out two mugs and a thermos, which began to steam from its mouth as soon as he unscrewed its top. He placed it on the windowsill between himself and Kate. Kate looked at his grim face, then at the thermos.
"A simpl
e tea," he said.
The blend of tea smelled delicious. She wanted to ask him where she could get a bag like his, but another look at his mirthless face froze the question in her throat. She turned instead to look out the window at Windsor Park – what Finn had called Learg Green.
"I take it you don't get many visitors," she said after a few moments.
"Few enough." He poured some tea, already mixed with milk in the thermos, and handed her a mug.
"Thanks."
It was far better tasting than the earlier concoction, but spread a similar warmth from her stomach as she took a sip. She looked around the kitchen. The sense of hidden movement and ghostly furnishings wasn't so pronounced anymore.
"What do you do in here?" she had to ask.
"Duty didn't always confine me to my Tower," he said. "Once I was as free to roam as any of the Seelie Court. But times are hard and with the Laird's daughter gone, Deegan won't let me risk Kinrowan's Heart in rescue of her, for all that she's his daughter and her loss pains him deeply."
"What is this Heart?"
The Gruagagh smiled. "Why, it's myself. I'm the Laird's heart – the Heart of Kinrowan."
"I don't understand."
"You've been told how our glamours and magics have diminished, haven't you?"
Kate nodded, though from all she'd seen this past day, she had to wonder what those magics were like before they had diminished. They seemed to work pretty well, so far as she could see.
"Well, diminished or not," the Gruagagh said, "what we have left is maintained by my focus. This Tower of mine is built on a crisscross of leys – straight tracks. Do you know the term?"
Kate nodded. "They're supposed to be lines that connect sacred sites, aren't they? So the Tower's like Stonehenge?"
"Exactly, but on a much, much smaller scale than that holy place. The ley lines are conduits of power: earth energy, moon strength, water, fire and air. I take those strengths and spread them through the Laird's land. They are all that keeps us from fading."
Jack the Giant-Killer (Jack of Kinrowan Book 1) Page 8
