by Adam Rann
Mr. Elton’s rights, however, gradually revived. Though she did not feel the first intelligence as she might have done the day before, or an hour before, its interest soon increased; and before their first conversation was over, she had talked herself into all the sensations of curiosity, wonder and regret, pain and pleasure, as to this fortunate Miss Hawkins, which could conduce to place the Martins under proper subordination in her fancy.
Emma learned to be rather glad that there had been such a meeting. It had been serviceable in deadening the first shock, without retaining any influence to alarm. As Harriet now lived, the Martins could not get at her, without seeking her, where hitherto they had wanted either the courage or the condescension to seek her; for since her refusal of the brother, the sisters never had been at Mrs. Goddard’s; and a twelvemonth might pass without their being thrown together again, with any necessity, or even any power of speech.
* * * *
Chapter IV
Human nature is so well disposed towards those who are in interesting situations, that a young person, who either marries or dies, is sure of being kindly spoken of.
A week had not passed since Miss Hawkins’s name was first mentioned in Highbury, before she was, by some means or other, discovered to have every recommendation of person and mind; to be handsome, elegant, highly accomplished, and perfectly amiable: and when Mr. Elton himself arrived to triumph in his happy prospects, and circulate the fame of her merits, there was very little more for him to do, than to tell her Christian name, and say whose music she principally played. The people of Highbury occupied their thoughts with his new bride as much as they could in public, but behind closed doors it was the whispers of Mr. Elton’s team that was the true topic of merit.
Mr. Elton returned, a very happy man. Not only had he returned a married man, but he returned as a hero as well for with him he brought four men of the foulest nature. They were all soldiers of a sort. Mercenaries might have been a better word for them. Yet, they were help and a sort of help Highbury desperately needed. Mr. Elton assured everyone they would promptly deal with the beast as soon as it could be located. “These men,” he said, “are qualified trackers who shall not fail us!”
The tallest of them was named Harold. He stood a hulking seven feet tall with muscles that flowed under the cloth of his shirt so thick their ripples could be seen through it. Marcus and Reggie were his constant companions. They were ratty little men but hardened. Both had the look of killers and the ill tempers to match. The last of the group Mr. Elton brought back was called “Eye.” If he held a proper name, it was never given. A patch covered the right side of his face, sealing shut the vacant hole where his eye once sat. His manner was also gruff, but he appeared to have a modicum of intellect and led the others in their work as they were preparing to challenge the beast of Highbury.
Mr. Elton had gone away rejected and mortified—disappointed in a very sanguine hope, after a series of what appeared to him strong encouragement; and not only losing the right lady, but finding himself debased to the level of a very wrong one. He had gone away deeply offended—he came back engaged to another—and to another as superior, of course, to the first, as under such circumstances what is gained always is to what is lost. He came back gay and self-satisfied, eager and busy, caring nothing for Miss Woodhouse, and defying Miss Smith. Indeed, he was most busy with the mission to rid Highbury of the monster, which after the tale of Mr. Woodhouse and Emma’s encounter with the wolves at Hartfield, everyone believed to be a pack of wolves instead of some fiend from the depths of Hell itself. When he could spare a moment for the quest to rid Highbury of its woes, it was Ms. Hawkins of whom he always spoke and did so with sincere zeal.
The charming Augusta Hawkins, in addition to all the usual advantages of perfect beauty and merit, was in possession of an independent fortune, of so many thousands as would always be called ten; a point of some dignity, as well as some convenience: the story told well; he had not thrown himself away—he had gained a woman of 10,000 l. or thereabouts; and he had gained her with such delightful rapidity—the first hour of introduction had been so very soon followed by distinguishing notice; the history which he had to give Mrs. Cole of the rise and progress of the affair was so glorious—the steps so quick, from the accidental rencontre, to the dinner at Mr. Green’s, and the party at Mrs. Brown’s—smiles and blushes rising in importance—with consciousness and agitation richly scattered—the lady had been so easily impressed—so sweetly disposed—had in short, to use a most intelligible phrase, been so very ready to have him, that vanity and prudence were equally contented.
He had caught both substance and shadow—both fortune and affection, and was just the happy man he ought to be; talking only of himself and his own concerns—expecting to be congratulated—ready to be laughed at—and, with cordial, fearless smiles, now addressing all the young ladies of the place, to whom, a few weeks ago, he would have been more cautiously gallant.
The wedding was no distant event, as the parties had only themselves to please, and the only obstacles that stood in its way were Mr. Elton’s mission and the necessary preparations.
Mr. Elton and his men set about at the task to find and kill the pack of wolves—or “monster” as it were, opinions were split on this—most promptly. With them they had brought a case of Baker rifles and the ammo for them as well as an assortment of pistols and traps. The group armed itself well and under Mr. Harold’s lead, they ventured off into the woods with Mr. Elton accompanying them.
The weather was not kind. It was dreadfully cold and they were forced to light a fire in order to stay warm as they camped their first night in the forest. Mr. Harold said if the predator of Highbury was hungry or bold enough, the fire might not keep it at bay and they could at least hope that it would come to them. No such luck presented itself and the next day their hike continued. Reggie discovered a series of bizarre tracks and the group decided to follow them. Whatever had left them was huge. The tracks were deep and of a kind none of them had ever seen the likes of before. The prints looked to be a cross between that of a wolf’s paw and a bare human foot. Marcus began talking of legends he’d heard in his travels of creatures that walked the day as men and at night, under the moon, transformed into beasts. Harold and Mr. Elton dismissed this quickly as supernatural hogwash. There were no such things as were-beasts in a world created by God. Such things were merely the fever dreams of pagans and fools. The tracks led them deeper into the woods than Mr. Elton had ever been before and finally ended outside a cave, buried in the side of a small hill. A rotten stench of blood and decay flowed from the place and Harold informed them this had to be the home of the beast (or beasts) that they sought. None of them except Harold wanted to brave the cave. Even Mr. Elton balked at the idea when Harold suggested charging straight in it with their guns primed and torches in their hands. It was decided they would wait in the woods to the side of the cave’s entrance and catch their prey as it came out of its own accord. They opted to keep a vigilant watch for there was no certainty that what they searched for wasn’t already out and about and they would be catching it on its way in rather than out. No one wanted to be caught off guard by the source of all the deaths they’d heard tales of in this village. The wait proved long and tiring. They ate cold biscuits from their pockets and passed the time trading insults and stories of other hunts.
As the sun settled itself behind the distant mountains, they heard movement from inside the cave. Harold snatched up his rifle and the others followed suit. None of them were prepared for the thing that came swaggering out of the cave into view. It stood ten feet tall with muscles that appeared thicker than a bear’s rippling beneath its flesh and fur. The thing was part man and part wolf but not in the way Reggie had described to them. It looked like a jumbled collection of bits of both. One of its arms was more human in nature and the other more bestial one had brown, matted fur covering its length. Two heads topped its body, one human and one wolf. Twins pairs of eyes that g
lowed in the dimness of the twilight turned on them, looking them over.
“Kill it!” Mr. Elton roared and jerked his rifle to his shoulder, taking aim. A chorus of rifles thundered. The thing staggered from the close range assault. Its chest was riddled with holes but only ooze leaked from its wounds, not blood. It howled so loudly the ground seemed to shake under their feet as Mr. Elton and the others struggled to reload their weapons. It came looping towards them. Reggie knew they would not have time to be ready for another volley if something wasn’t done. He dropped his rifle, pulling twin pistols from his belt, and rushed to meet the abomination. Reggie threw himself into the thing’s path and smiled as he hoisted his pistols in front of him, aiming at the thing’s face. Laughter came out of him, cold and demented, as he squeezed the triggers. The shots struck the creature on its lower human face, blowing deep groves in its flesh. Still, the monster came on, utterly undeterred. It grabbed Reggie and lifted him into the air. With a single motion it ripped him clean in two as Reggie’s blood and entrails spilt over it. It cast his pieces, one to each side, from its hands and picked up its pace towards the rest of Mr. Elton’s group. Harold and the others were ready again now. Everyone took careful aim, picking targets on the thing’s body they hoped would bring it down. A fresh round of gunfire echoed in the trees as they took their shots. Again, the creature staggered but did not fall. Marcus was the next to die. He was closest to the thing when it reached their firing line. With a single, fast blow, it put its hand through his skull. “Eye” flew into a rage at the death of his friends. He was the only one of them to carry a sword and he pulled it from its scabbard, charging the monster. Eye swung and cleaved a massive gash into the thing’s left leg. He followed this with a return swing that slashed the nose off its human face. Finally, the thing showed some reaction; unfortunately it was one of anger. The monster caught Eye’s blade on his next attack and broke it effortlessly. It knocked Eye to the forest floor and stepped upon his chest. Mr. Elton and Harold heard the sound of Eye’s ribcage shattering under the thing’s weight. Blood spurted from Eye’s mouth like vomit and he lay still with the white of bone protruding through the cloth of his shirt. Harold had lost his courage and turned on his heels, fleeing into the growing darkness of the early night. Mr. Elton took a last look at the monster and knew death was upon him as it drew nearer. Warm liquid trickled down the leg of his pants. The creature closed to within inches of him and sniffed at him with its wolf face, then darted away in pursuit of Harold. Mr. Elton collapsed to the ground as he fainted from the overwhelming fear that filled his entire soul.
As Mr. Elton and his hired fellows fought the Half-form many miles away, Emma stirred in her sleep. A feeling that she was not alone swept over her. She groggily sat up, shoving her sheets off in the process. Something moved in the corner of her vision. She turned to see a woman perched on her window sill like an animal, her arms between her naked thighs. “Hello Emma.” The woman’s voice was like a sad piece of music, both beautiful and dark. Memories of their last meeting broke free inside Emma’s mind and poured into her thoughts. “Selena,” Emma gasped. “You’re real! I believed you to be only a dream.”
Selena hoped onto the floor of the room. “No, my dear, I am much, much more than that.” Selena approached Emma’s bed and sat on its corner.
Emma’s continence was one of awkwardness. “Who are you Selena?”
Selena smiled. “I am the queen of the moon, blood, and trees. I am she who howls in the night. The mother of all and ruler of the Wandering Tribe.”
Emma blinked. “If you are a queen, why then do you not wear clothes? Your indecency is more than a bit striking. Mind you, I can tolerate when you come to me alone like this but if you were to ever meet my father and friends, I am afraid I would have to reprimand you for it.”
Selena laughed long and loud. “Oh child, you truly have no idea to whom you speak.”
“Selena, how did we meet?” Emma asked. “I feel as if I have known you an eternity and yet, I cannot fully place how I know you.”
“I came to you in the snow.”
“That I do remember and you asked me of someone. I do not recall who or why.”
“We spoke of Mr. Knightley and it is him who brings me here again this night. I know you love him, and he you.”
“Never!” Emma exclaimed. “How came you to such a foolish notion? That is a most absurd statement.”
“I can smell it on the two of you whether you admit it or even know it yourself. His heart is yours. I need you to speak to him for me.”
Emma was still put off by Selena suggestion of Knightley’s and her own feelings, trapped in a sort of state of shock. “You’re wrong.”
“Forget that, Emma, and focus. I need you to speak to him for me. A terrible demon has been awakened and returned to plague my tribe. We are at risk, child. Your own folk are no exception. In the end, it will kill us all if we do not act fast to stop it.”
“I do not understand what you are talking about,” Emma pointed out, her fists clenching the covers of her bed in frustration. “Why can you not talk to Mr. Knightley yourself? Do you live in the woods and have no clothes to wear? I can loan you some if you have need.”
Selena stared at Emma in disbelief. Finally, Selena took action to awaken Emma to the danger she was in. Her eyes glowed a bright and supernatural yellow in the darkness of the room. Emma shrieked and jumped back on her bed, yanking her covers to her throat. Selena bared a mouthful of razor-like teeth at her. “You must tell Knightley that only holiness can harm the Half-form. Only good can vanquish its evil. If my people die at its hand, I want to do so knowing I will be avenged even it is by the murderer of my children. Do you understand, Emma?”
“No,” she said in a trembling voice.
“Tell him light destroys dark, Emma. He can guess the rest.”
With that, Selena whirled with the grace of a cat and threw herself out the window to the courtyard below. Emma darted from her bed to the window and saw Selena change into a large gray wolf as she ran towards the trees, her body twisting and reshaping until she ran on all fours and disappeared in the blackness of the night. Emma backed away from the window and stumbled onto her bed. She sat for a very long time, trying to understand what had just transpired in her room.
With the dawn came the discovery of Mr. Elton and the remains of his men in the woods. A hunter chanced upon them and was given quite a start. A quick check revealed Mr. Elton to be alive and the hunter hurriedly helped him back to Highbury. Word spread quickly of Mr. Elton’s encounter with the beast and his failure to defeat it.
Mr. Elton recovered and told all of Highbury it was indeed a demon loosed from Hell that stalked Highbury’s woods. His features were pale as he addressed the village in an emergency meeting that was held at the general store. Not everyone could attend due to the short notice but those who did said that Mr. Elton was more determined than ever to slay the monster. This time he promised those gathered he would bring the actual Queen’s army and not a band of mercenaries. “Good and godly men,” he said. “It will take them to see this thing back to the flames!” Soon after the meeting, Mr. Elton set out for Bath again.
Amid the hope and fear surrounding Mr. Elton’s departure, there was also a general expectation, which a certain glance of Mrs. Cole’s did not seem to contradict, that when he next entered Highbury he would bring his bride. The poor man had suffered much at the hands of the monster in spirit, but his will was far from broken and everyone agreed it would do him well to return with his bride beside him. No one truly believed he would be able to summon the army to Highbury to resolve their plight and many believed even if he did manage it, it would matter not at all. If this monster was as Mr. Elton described, their only hope lay in God and not in the strength of man and his arms.
During his present short stay, Emma had barely seen him because of his preoccupation with the monster; but just enough to feel that the first meeting was over, and to give her the impression of his not
being improved by the mixture of pique and pretension, now spread over his air. She was, in fact, beginning very much to wonder that she had ever thought him pleasing at all; and his sight was so inseparably connected with some very disagreeable feelings, that, except in a moral light, as a penance, a lesson, a source of profitable humiliation to her own mind, she would have been thankful to be assured of never seeing him again. She wished him very well; but he gave her pain, and his welfare twenty miles off would administer most satisfaction.
The pain of his continued residence in Highbury, however, must certainly be lessened by his marriage. Many vain solicitudes would be prevented—many awkwardnesses smoothed by it. A Mrs. Elton would be an excuse for any change of intercourse; former intimacy might sink without remark. It would be almost beginning their life of civility again.
Of the lady, individually, Emma thought very little. She was good enough for Mr. Elton, no doubt; accomplished enough for Highbury—handsome enough—to look plain, probably, by Harriet’s side. As to connexion, there Emma was perfectly easy; persuaded, that after all his own vaunted claims and disdain of Harriet, he had done nothing. On that article, truth seemed attainable. What she was, must be uncertain; but who she was, might be found out; and setting aside the 10,000 l., it did not appear that she was at all Harriet’s superior. She brought no name, no blood, no alliance. Miss Hawkins was the youngest of the two daughters of a Bristol—merchant, of course, he must be called; but, as the whole of the profits of his mercantile life appeared so very moderate, it was not unfair to guess the dignity of his line of trade had been very moderate also. Part of every winter she had been used to spend in Bath; but Bristol was her home, the very heart of Bristol; for though the father and mother had died some years ago, an uncle remained in the law line—nothing more distinctly honourable was hazarded of him, than that he was in the law line; and with him the daughter had lived. Emma guessed him to be the drudge of some attorney, and too stupid to rise. And all the grandeur of the connexion seemed dependent on the elder sister, who was very well married, to a gentleman in a great way, near Bristol, who kept two carriages! That was the wind-up of the history; that was the glory of Miss Hawkins.
