The Wolfstone Curse
Page 28
The sound of the bulldozer filled the chamber. The whole front of the vehicle ploughed through the roof and it plunged downwards. Crystal fragmented around it. The weight crushed down on the end wall, bowing it inwards, until the whole structure broke under the pressure and exploded inwards.
The crystal shattered into millions of slivers, each as sharp as a silver arrow. It rained down from the roof and exploded out from the walls. Glowing, sharp and lethal – shards of crystal thundered like hailstones across the chamber, shredding anything in their path.
Standing in the middle of the room, Einzel was caught full in the storm. Flesh was ripped from the bones in a shotgun blast of crystal splinters. With a final howl of anger and agony, the creature crashed down amongst the glowing fragments.
When he dared to look, Peter saw the bulldozer halfway through the roof. Carys was slumped forward through the cabin window. She slowly lifted her head, smiling weakly down at him. And below her in the middle of the room lay the bloodied, lacerated corpse of the Lone Wolf. For a moment, its chest heaved in one rasping, final breath. Then it was still.
Above them, through the shattered roof and ruined walls of Wolfstone Manor, the full moon faded behind a cloud. And the glow of the crystal fragments strewn across the floor slowly died away.
Apart from broken glass and wrecked furniture, the pub wasn’t too damaged. The wolves were gone, rounded up by police, who tracked them by their embedded GPS chips. Peter had closed up the pit, and so, apart from the abandoned vehicles by the circle and at Wolfstone Manor, there was nothing to suggest Einzel and his associates had ever been there.
Carys felt like she could sleep for ever. But by lunchtime she was feeling hungry. She found Peter sitting in the remains of the bar eating a sandwich.
“Hey,” he said by way of greeting.
“Hey,” she answered.
They sat and ate in silence. They’d been through so much there didn’t seem any point in talking. Not yet. Later they would have more than enough to say to each other.
The afternoon was cool but bright. They walked across the fields, past the abandoned vehicles and through the Wolfstone Circle, then on past the manor. They stood and looked at the wreckage of the end of the house. The tower was half collapsed, the side of the house smashed away. The bulldozer was wedged partway into the building, its back end tilted upwards.
There was a police incident van at the Lupine Sanctuary. Carys introduced Peter to Eddie, who was working his way through a mountain of paperwork. He was a middle-aged man with thinning, greying hair and glasses.
“I’m a vet, not an accountant,” he protested.
“You got the wolves back then?” Peter said.
“Oh, you heard about that? They think Josh let them out, after…” He shook his head. “You think you know people and then… Anyway, yes they’re back now. They even found one wolf that didn’t have a tracking chip. Janey would know all about it. She’d have given it a name, probably.” He took his glasses off and wiped his eyes.
Peter went back outside, but Carys stayed to talk to Eddie. The police were sure that Josh had killed Janey. She’d tried to fight him off – they’d found his blood outside. There was an alert out for him, but the man seemed to have disappeared. Carys guessed she’d only stunned him when she hit him with the car. But in any case, he’d be lying dead in the pit with the rest of Einzel’s followers now.
Peter was by the gate to the main pen. The lock had gone, and it was secured with a simple chain with a peg through it. Carys watched as Peter crouched down in front of the gate.
One of the wolves was on the other side, so close its muzzle was against the mesh of the gate. It stared intently at Peter, but he didn’t back away. Instead he held his hand up to the mesh. The wolf didn’t move.
“He said one of the wolves didn’t have a microchip,” Peter said, sensing Carys standing a little way behind him. “This one.”
“How do you know?”
“I know.”
Carys looked at the wolf. A streak of lighter fur ran from the top of its head down its back. Apart from that it looked just like all the rest as it continued to stare back at Peter.
Peter straightened up, taking the peg from the chain holding the gate shut. The heavy chain rattled through the clasp, and the gate swung open.
“What are you doing?”
Peter didn’t answer. He was watching the wolf as it padded out of the pen. The wolf stared back at Peter for a moment. Then it leaped.
The weight of the creature knocked him onto his back. The wolf was on top of Peter, jaws close to his face. Staring into his eyes. He tried to sit up, to throw it off, but the wolf reached out a paw and pushed it down on his shoulder. He slumped back again. Something glinted in the fur as the paw moved. A ring, clasped round one of the clawed toes. Not like the ring David and Einzel’s wolves had worn. A more delicate design, embossed with the engraved head of a wolf – the du Bois family crest.
Carys ran forward, ready to drag the wolf away. Ready to protect Peter from it – whatever the danger. She’d die for him if she had to.
He was aware of Carys running towards them. But Peter’s attention was focused on the wolf. He stared into its eyes, and somewhere deep inside he saw what he was looking for.
The wolf’s jaws opened. It stared down at him, through the eyes he knew so well. Then a long, pale tongue emerged, and gently licked Peter’s cheek.
Peter got to his feet as the wolf rolled off him. She lay for a moment, looking up at Peter. Watching as Carys grabbed him and pulled him into a hug. She gave a slight nod of acceptance, then she turned and ran off across the fields.
Carys closed the gate. “She’ll be all right.”
“I know she will.”
Peter took Carys’s hand, and together they followed the wolf’s path towards the wood and the ancient Wolfstone Circle.
The research for The Wolfstone Curse was sometimes rather ‘hairy’. Justin is not permitted to divulge how much of the story is actually true and how much based on supposition – or to reveal the real name and location of Wolfstone or the people (and were-people) involved. When not tracking down werewolves, Justin has written for stage and screen as well as writing novels and graphic novels. He is the author of The Invisible Detective series, The Death Collector, The Chaos Code, The Parliament of Blood and The Chamber of Shadows.
Justin also currently acts as Creative Consultant to BBC Books’ range of Doctor Who titles, as well as writing quite a few himself. Married with two sons, Justin lives and works in Warwick, within sight of one of Britain’s best-preserved castles.
www.JustinRichardsWriter.com
A TEMPLAR BOOK
First published in the UK in 2013 by Templar Publishing,
an imprint of the Templar Company Limited, Deepdene
Lodge, Deepdene Avenue, Dorking, UK
www.templarco.co.uk
This ebook edition first published in 2013 by Templar
Publishing
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Text copyright © 2013 by Justin Richards
Cover illustration by the-parish.com
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ISBN (ePub) 978-1-84877-833-7
ISBN (Mobi) 978-1-84877-830-6