Wolfdark

by Isobel Robertson

  “Fetch some food for this cat,” I instructed. “And something to act as a bed. And anything else it might need.”

  The girl nodded, eyeing the kitten nervously. And with good reason; it hissed at her quite viciously from where it crouched beside me on the rug. Such a tiny creature was hardly intimidating, but it did not seem shy in expressing its opinions. I waved the girl away.

  Deborah appeared a moment later, bustling through the dressing screen, only to gasp in surprise when she saw me.

  “Apologies, my lady. I thought you would be at breakfast. And what do we have here?”

  I tried to hold the kitten up for her to inspect, but it seemed no more impressed with Deborah than with the maidservant. It waved its little paws wildly, slashing at the air in front of Deborah’s face. My lady’s maid lent back out of reach and frowned at it.

  “One of the maidservants asked me to take care of her,” I explained. As if that explained anything. What a strange situation this was. But Deborah nodded politely, as if such a thing happened every day, and set about tidying my room as normal. I put the cat back down on the rug and slumped against the side of the armchair.

  “What am I going to do with you, you vicious little heathen?” I asked. The kitten just tumbled over sideways and started to purr.

  “Start with a name,” Deborah suggested from the other side of the room as she smoothed my bedsheets. “Every pet needs a name.”

  “A good idea,” I said. “But where to start?”

  The most recent book I’d read was a guide to botany, an area that had never been my speciality but still fascinated me. The book still lay on the fireside table. I opened it on my lap, once again admiring its detailed drawing. The little kitten poked her head against it, seemingly very interested in this new object.

  “What shall we call you?” I asked, brushing off a dark smudge from the tiny beast’s head. She’d somehow got into the ashes already. I must be careful to keep her away from the fire. She yowled at me rather insistently, so I lifted her up and let her sit on my lap, beside the book. But that was not enough for her. She pounced, planting one paw firmly on the page before slipping back down. I looked down at the book, trying not to react as I saw the neat positioning of her paw print. The kitten began to wash herself in my lap as if this was nothing more than a coincidence. She had neatly marked the heading to one entry in the book - Hemlock.

  “So that’s to be your name, is it? Hemlock?”

  The kitten purred in appreciation and promptly fell asleep.

  “I’ve heard worse names for cats,” Deborah said. “And it seems to suit her.”

  I brushed away the paw print before Deborah could see it.

  “It will do for now,” I said. I looked down at the snoozing tabby kitten on my lap. Hemlock.

  “Lily, are you upstairs?”

  A familiar voice called from the floor below- Theo. Why had he come back?

  For a moment, I tried to work out how best to move Hemlock from my lap so that I could stand. But Theo was too fast. He burst in through my bedroom door and came to stand beside me. I had to crane my head to look up at him, leaving his face still half-hidden in the shadows. He was dripping water all over my priceless carpet.

  “Bad news, Lily,” he said grimly, before I could comment.

  I felt my stomach clench. I knew what was coming.

  “The beast struck again overnight,” Theo said. He hesitated for a hair's breadth of time, as if deciding whether I should know everything. “It attacked the house beside yours,” he said. “Jules Beaumont is injured, and his pets have been killed. Two dogs and a cat, completely ripped apart. And it was only a few hours ago, Lily. We were lying right here and had no idea.”

  I gasped, instinctively clutching Hemlock. She mewed a little in protest, and Theo looked down at her in surprise.

  “It’s a long story,” I said, and flicked a glance at Deborah. She understood my meaning and slipped from the room.

  “One of the maids vanished this morning,” I said. “She left a letter asking me to care for this cat.”

  Theo bent down and carefully stroked Hemlock’s ears. She purred and rubbed herself against his hand.

  “I’m glad to see she likes you,” I said, amused. “She seems to hate everyone else on sight.”

  Theo’s smile appeared for just a second, before it clouded over again.

  “You said a maid vanished. Do you know where she went?”

  I shook my head.

  “No one seems to know. Why?”

  That pause again.

  “There was more blood in the road outside Jules Beaumont’s house. It looks like someone else was hurt, but we’ve no idea who. They seem to have disappeared without a trace. What time did this maid leave?”

  I stared at him in horror.

  What if the wolf had taken Gwyneth?

  The Mercy of Witches

  I awoke wrapped tightly in Theo’s arms. For all our recent problems, I had not been able to bear the thought of him leaving me. We’d spent the day together and, best of all, the night. It was at times like these that I most appreciated the lax attitudes of my guardian.

  But something had woken me. A knock? I grabbed my dressing gown and wrapped it around my shoulders.

  “Enter,” I called.

  A maidservant scuttled in, eyes politely downcast.

  “There’s a message for my lord Amberson,” the girl said, obviously trying not to notice exactly where he was. I nudged Theo until he opened his eyes.

  “Is it a verbal message or paper?” I asked.

  “Paper, my lady,” the girl said. I held out a hand and she dropped the letter into it, then rushed away with a look of relief on her face. She was lucky to work for me. I was sure that staff in other great houses saw far worse on a daily basis.

  Theo rubbed the sleep from his eyes and opened the note I handed him. He frowned down at it, sending a sliver of anticipation through me.

  “What is it?” I asked. He said exactly what I did not want to hear.

  “It’s from Delilah. I need to see her straight away.”

  He was about to leave my bed and go to his ex-fiancee. I forced myself not to react. But enough was enough. I wanted my life back - and I wanted my fiance back. If I stopped this damned wolf, then Theo would have no more excuse for spending all this time with Delilah. Everything could go back to normal.

  So I smiled sweetly at Theo and agreed that he absolutely must not waste any time. If Delilah needed him, he must go! He seemed somewhat bemused, but he did not argue as I shooed him out of bed and out of the room.

  “Quickly, Deborah,” I said. “Help me get dressed. I need to visit someone. Oh, and make sure one of the maids looks after Hemlock. The cat.”

  Deborah did her usual excellent work with only a single raised eyebrow, and soon had me dressed and ready to leave. I wore a navy silk dress that, in my opinion, balanced serious intelligence and deep mysticism. The carriage was brought round, and the driver tipped his hat to me. I did not quite trust him with my precise destination, so I gave him a rough approximation. He blanched.

  “That’s not an appropriate area for you to visit at all, my lady. Not at all. Perhaps Bond Street instead?”

  I took great pleasure in crushing the hopeful expression on his face.

  “If I wanted to go shopping, I would have said so in the first place,” I snapped. “You’re paid to do as I wish.”

  I clambered up into the carriage, ignoring the footman who rushed to help me, and I slammed the door behind me. There was a moment’s pause. And then we were off, rattling over the cobblestones. I watched the city rush past, as great mansions gave way to rows of terraced brick houses, and then to overhanging buildings that leaned together like drunkards in the street. The carriage slowed, and finally pulled to a halt. My footman pulled the door open, his unhappy expression no doubt echoing that of my coachman.

  “We’ve arrived, my lady,” he said. “Unless there was some kind of mistake?”

/>   I examined the address in my hand.

  “This is perfect,” I told him, brushing past him as I descended the steps. I should be only a street away from my destination; far enough that my staff would not see, but not to far to call for help.

  “Please wait here,” I directed the men, and swept down the street that I hoped would lead to Gwyneth’s mysterious address.

  I passed an inn called The Three Sisters. That seemed appropriate, if a little too Shakespearean to take seriously. Beside it, a small, dark shop with bunches of herbs and small crystals arranged outside. Innocent, or occult? I felt my heart beat a little faster. Might I have come to the right place after all?

  A small, nondescript building caught my eye. Tucked into the corner of a small courtyard, it almost seemed to glow - but not when I looked at it directly. It was only from the corner of my eye that I sensed anything unusual. None of the other people passing by seemed to notice it at all. Intrigued, I stepped towards the little building. The sign above the door indicated that it was an inn. The Wolf’s Head. Coincidence? I studied the sheet of paper again. This was the address that Gwyneth intended me to visit.

  I was almost at the door when a distant noise made me pause. Was that - could it be?

  Perhaps I was imagining things, but I could not leave without investigating. Not when I thought I had heard a wolf’s low growl, drifting from one of the nearby alleys.

  I stepped into one of the darkest, narrowest streets off the courtyard. Then I turned left, following instinct as much as hearing. The growl sounded again, more distinct this time, and I broke into a run. I shoved a washerwoman out of the way as I rounded the corner, ignoring the curses she shouted at me.

  I flew around the corner into yet another narrow alley, shaded by such deep shadow that I could barely make anything out. But there, in front of me, was the shaggy silhouette of a great beast. And that was not all. Two children stood in between me and the animal.

  “Run!” I shouted, but all they did was stumble backwards. No doubt fear had frozen them in place.

  I acted on instinct. Three steps forwards and I grabbed their arms. I thrust them behind me and faced the wolf. It was almost entirely hidden in darkness. All I saw was the glint of those wicked yellow eyes.

  “Stay back!” I shouted. Noise had worked before. Might it save me again? “Don’t touch me, beast!” I yelled, for good measure.

  The animal stood frozen, still half-hidden in the shadows. A crash and a shout sounded from the house next to me. I didn’t take my eyes from the wolf, even as I jumped at the noise, but I saw its own gaze flicker. And then it turned tail and ran, vanishing into the darkness of the alley beyond.

  I realised that I still gripped the two children’s arms. I released them and crouched down to look at them more closely.

  “Are you alright?” I asked.

  Two little faces nodded seriously. One grubby little boy, one absolutely filthy little girl.

  “Thank you, miss,” the girl said solemnly. “That were a nasty dog.”

  “Dog?” I tried not to laugh. “That was a wolf, young lady!”

  The boy shook his head. “Our neighbour’s dog gets mean sometimes. Stories say he killed a man before.”

  I frowned. Could he be right? Had that been a dog hiding in the shadows, only transformed into a wolf by my own lingering fear?

  “Will you be safe getting home?” I asked the children. “Do you live far away?”

  “Only there,” the boy said, pointing back into the square I had just left.

  I had accosted two children almost on their doorstep. Because of an imaginary wolf. I shook my head. Clearly, I needed more sleep.

  “We are very grateful, miss,” the girl said. Her eyes seemed darker than they should be. I could not even tell their colour. I had an incredible impression of depth, of an endless blackness.

  And now I was imagining magic in the faces of small children.

  “You! Get inside now!”

  A raspy voice called out from behind me and I twisted in surprise. The two children ran past me. I automatically turned to follow them.

  The door to the inn was open and an old woman leaned out, beckoning to the children. She made eye contact with me.

  “You too,” she said. “It’s not safe out there. Not when such creatures are roaming the streets.”

  My feet moved before my head understood her words. I followed the children in through the door, and found myself in a dark wood-panelled room. It was lined with a long bar on one side, and many small tables on the other. This must be what a common inn looked like. I thought wistfully of Elspeth’s lovely inn, all the way in Yorkshire.

  The bolt screeched into place on the main door. I turned to stare at the old woman who had just locked me in. With the shadows hanging around her, she suddenly looked very… pale. Slender wrists. Lips shockingly red, even in the darkness. My breath caught in my chest.

  Was this a trap? Here I stood, locked inside a disreputable inn, at the mercy of total strangers. At the mercy of witches.

  “Lily! You made it!”

  I turned again at the sound of a familiar voice. There, behind the bar, polishing a glass and smiling at me, was Gwyneth.

  Power

  For a moment, I was not sure how to act. None of my etiquette lessons had prepared me for standing in a strange, mysterious inn, with no idea of what on earth was happening.

  The situation worsened further when a thud sounded on the door.

  “Lady Lily! My lady, are you well?”

  The door shuddered against its bolt, and then collapsed inward as the familiar forms of my coachman and footman shouldered their way into the inn, knocking the old woman out of the way. They stood there in the doorway, gazing around wildly.

  “You were instructed to wait,” I said firmly. “I am quite well.”

  “This is a bad place for you,” the coachman said darkly. “Lord Amberson would have our heads if he knew you’d been here.”

  “Lord Amberson is not yet my husband, and certainly not my master,” I said. “You may leave me now. Wait outside until my business is finished.”

  “We need to leave,” the footman said firmly. To my horror, he stepped towards me, reaching for my arm. I panicked. My magic blossomed inside me, building into something I would not be able to control. A tendril reached out, ready to defend me -

  And then Gwyneth stepped up beside me, waving a hand in a leisurely fashion. I felt my magic freeze. Right in front of me, the coachman and footman gently collapsed. For a second, I stared at their crumpled forms in horror, until they began to snore.

  I backed away from Gwyneth, moving towards the door, but somehow the old woman was already there. The children stood beside her, all three of them staring at me with eyes that were too dark. No more doubts. I knew what they all were now, knew it for sure.

  I was trapped in a room full of witches.

  “We mean you no harm, Lily,” Gwyneth said softly. “I swear. There is just something that I wanted to give you, and nowhere else in London is safe for people like us. Or you.”

  She knew my secret. I had no idea what to say.

  “Take this,” Gwyneth said, handing over a piece of paper. I took it, turning it over in my hand. It was old, and a little faded, but had clearly been well cared for. I squinted down at the words, which were hard to make out in the dim light of the inn. But I could see my mother’s name. And The Wolf’s Head.

  “Is this..?” I could barely phrase the question.

  “Your mother owned this place,” Gwyneth told me. “She intended it to be a safe place.”

  “For people like me?”

  “For people like us,” Gwyneth corrected me. “Anyone whose talents or bloodline might put them at risk from hunters. We’ve kept it running in her name. No harm will come to you within these walls. And we can help you.”

  I stared at them, feeling a small smile grow around my lips. What a fool I’d been, thinking I was alone. For all my magic terrified me - for
all witches terrified me - it was still power. My power. Perhaps it could keep me safe.

  Words of Love

  “Honestly, would Amberson even be on time for his own funeral?” Daniel asked, frowning as he stared out through his parlour window.

  “I’m sure it’s important,” I said, but the words felt empty. Theo was probably with Delilah. Whatever they were up to, it had apparently caused him to forget a dinner appointment with Daniel and Alexandra.

  I knew I was quieter than usual, and less opinionated. Less lively. Daniel and Alexandra no doubt put it down to disappointment at Theo’s absence. I could hardly tell them that I had just been forced to acknowledge the depth of my mother’s secret life. And I could certainly not mention the vastness of this new, hidden world that I found myself thrust into.

  “He could at least pretend to have the manners appropriate to his status,” Daniel muttered. “It’s bad enough to dress like a commoner. He needn’t act like one as well.”

  “Better than acting like a pointless society idiot,” I snapped back.

  “You can talk!” Daniel said, his voice rising to a shout. “When did you last do anything except look decorative?”

  I stared at him in shock. Daniel hardly ever raised his voice to me. A pithy reply danced on the top of my tongue. I knew him well enough to hit where it most hurt. But this was the man who’d raised me. Why not share what was truly on my mind, instead of taking out my mood on him?

  “What can you tell me about my mother, Daniel?” I asked, keeping my voice soft.

  I saw from the look in his eyes that this was the last thing he had expected. And was that a flash of disappointment? What had made Daniel so eager for a fight? He’d always been so relaxed, so easy-going.

  “I could tell you almost anything about your mother,” he said, his voice suddenly serious. His gaze focused on mine, as steady and unwavering as steel. “We were close friends all our lives. What do you want to know?”

  I hesitated. Could I ask him? Would he laugh at me and call me mad, or did he know the truth?