Wolfdark

by Isobel Robertson

  As I swung my legs out of bed and attempted to stand, all the grief and fear gripped my legs, my joints stiffening to the point that I could barely balance. I gritted my teeth and rubbed hard at my hips until the aching muscles loosened. At least I had remained silent. I stole a glance at Theo; he still slept.

  I grabbed my clothes from where they lay draped over the dressing screen, thankful that Theo's valet had not yet bothered us this morning. I pulled my many layers back on as quickly as possible, although it was impossible to lace my dress up properly without help. Still, with a shawl wrapped around my shoulders, no one would notice.

  Hemlock, who had accompanied me to the safety of Theo's house, perked up when she saw me reaching for the door handle. I let her slip out before me, and I almost smiled as I watched her scamper down the hallway. She would have to stay here until it was safe.

  I opened the front door, moving slowly and quietly so as not to wake Theo or his staff. Too slowly. Hemlock shot through the door in a blur of fur, darting out into the street beyond. I forgot all my stealth and secrecy. I bolted after her, shouting her name as she raced across cobbles and darted in between feet. People scattered out of my way (and those who did not quickly regretted it) as I raced down the street, desperately reaching for my kitten.

  Miraculously, she avoided any incident as she crossed the street and sped around a corner, but I still could not catch her. I was gaining on her, but she had an impressive turn of speed for a creature so small. With one final lunge and swoop, I almost had her, but she darted to the side, and leaped up onto a window ledge before squeezing through a cracked window pane. I pulled my hand back just in time to avoid slicing my skin on the jagged glass. Crossing my arms over my chest, I tilted my head back and frowned up at the building. It was a small house, much humbler than Theo's and clearly abandoned. Plants grew from its stonework and the shattered windows were dark and grimy. What a place for Hemlock to have chosen.

  No time for politeness. I launched myself at the door, ignoring the curious glances of people passing by. I shoved again, harder, until at last the half-rotted wood gave way and I stumbled through into a dark hallway.

  "Hemlock?" I called, but the house was silent.

  I tiptoed down the hallway and through a ragged parlour. Tattered curtains still hung from the walls, slick with moisture, while patches of mould dotted peeling plaster and rotten old furniture. I wrinkled my nose against the stench of decay and pressed onwards, pushing open an ajar door and stepping through into what looked to be a kitchen. I raised my eyes from the cracked old tiles on the floor to see a heavy wooden table, almost invisible in the shadows - and I almost screamed. Two white faces gazed back at me in the darkness.

  Gwyneth and the old woman.

  They stared at me calmly. No reactions of surprise. Nothing.

  Then a welcome purr sounded from my feet. I looked down to see Hemlock emerging from beneath the table with happy little noises of welcome. I bent down to stroke her soft head, but then the utter strangeness of the situation struck me. I stood bolt upright again.

  "You!" I said, pointing at Gwyneth as she stared patiently back at me. "You gave me this cat, but now you're using her to manipulate me! How dare you! And you!"

  I pointed at the old woman, who was equally expressionless, even as my finger shook with anger.

  "You were no help either," I shouted. "When I needed you, I got nothing from you but party tricks and a distraction. Two of my friends are dead, and you've done nothing to help."

  "Oh, be quiet," the old woman said, flicking her fingers at me dismissively. I tried to shout back at her, but even as my mouth opened and closed, no sound came out. I was impressed, despite myself. Daniel and I had concocted a silencing powder, true, but this was something far more advanced.

  But my admiration vanished in a flash when the woman walked around the table to pick up Hemlock and cradle her close. I struggled to fight off the spell, straining to form words. Seeing someone else with my cat sent such a wave of white-hot fury through me that I felt the silence spell snap free.

  "I will help you defeat this wolf," the old woman said abruptly, just a second before I had the chance to speak.

  Her words knocked my anger out of me in a single blow.

  "Help me?" I asked, wrinkling my brow. "Why would you help me?"

  The old woman cackled.

  "You're blind and stupid, girl," she said. "I've given you time and you've not used it, given you hints and you've not seen them. Do you still not know who I am?"

  I looked from her wrinkled old face to Gwyneth's smooth face, just as calm and unblinking in the darkness.

  "Are you not Gwyneth's grandmother?" I asked, feeling as if I had stumbled into some other world where no truth was quite as I imagined it.

  The woman cackled even harder. Even Gwyneth let the slightest hint of a red smile slide across her face.

  "Oh no," the old woman said. "My name is Liliana. And I'm your grandmother."

  I stared at her. My mouth had dropped open, but closing it required more thought than I could muster.

  "I have no grandmother," I said weakly.

  "If you thought that, you were wrong," the old woman - Liliana - said briskly. She tossed a pile of books at me and I caught them automatically, taking a second to wonder where they had appeared from. "Now, get to work. We have a wolf to defeat."

  Truth

  I stood in a long, narrow alleyway, the buildings above me so tall that they blocked almost all the moonlight, leaving me in darkness. Gwyneth and my grandmother (could I even think of her like that?) stood at my shoulders, but I still felt alone in the swirling shadows of the night. I had not told Theo my plans or even my whereabouts; I felt rather guilty for having bolted from his house with no warning and no word of when I planned to return, but I could tell him nothing. He would have insisted on coming with me, and I could not have that. This was my fight. Mine alone.

  The air shifted. A few weeks ago, I would not have noticed the change. But today, I sensed magic.

  "This is as far as we go," Gwyneth said softly. "We've brought you to where you need to be."

  I turned to look at her.

  "What do you mean?" I asked. "I still don't know what to do. I need your help."

  But, right before my eyes, Gwyneth faded into nothingness, the dark shape of a rundown old warehouse appearing where her white face had been. I spun around to my grandmother, but she too was gone. I stood alone in an empty alley, in the worst part of London. And, according to the information I had been given before my companions so rudely vanished, I was only a few feet away from the wolf's true hideout. The park had been an utter error, apparently, simply a place marked by frequent criss-crossing trails. Our wolf might well like to stroll in Hyde Park in his human form, but it was not where he denned down in his wolf shape.

  Well. This was what I had wanted, was it not? The chance to take on the wolf, just the two of us. My magic was stronger than ever before, and for once I had the advantage of surprise - or so I hoped. My heartbeat skittered unevenly, but I drew a deep breath and reached for the calmness that still lingered in the corners of my heart. I turned to face the door that should lead me to the wolf's hideout. I gathered my magic, steadied my hands, and prepared to blast the doorway open with all my force.

  But the door moved first. The wolf shot out, leaping into the air and slamming into my chest. I staggered backwards, fighting to suck air into my crushed lungs. I hit the wall behind, rough brick scraping me even through the thick wool of my dress. A silent scream, hoarse and airless, rasped through my throat as I fought to free myself. My hair was tangled and caught, keeping my head trapped against the wall. The wolf had my skirts in its jaws, tugging me away from the wall. I fought back with magic, with kicks and slaps, with any scrap of strength I could find. Where was Gwyneth? Where was my grandmother?

  I kicked the wolf hard in the jaw and it loosened its grip on my dress, torn fabric hanging from its jaws. I gazed into its eyes and saw a wi
ldness there that terrified me beyond belief. It lunged, snapping, but I held it off with a wall of magic. It lunged again, coming closer this time. I could hold it off for moments at best. And in the face of this new wildness, I had little hope for my survival. The last spark of humanity in those yellow eyes seemed almost gone. Would it kill me now?

  My voice hoarse and broken, I chanted the words for a wind spell, still holding the wolf off as best as I could. My body ached and my magic already felt strained, but the spell worked. Soft winds, building fast towards a storm, funnelled down the alleyway, picking up dust and dirt as they came. Streams of magical air caught tendrils of my hair and whipped my torn skirts around my legs. The wolf hesitated, its ears flicking from side to side. A low whine escaped its mouth. I took advantage of the moment and strained harder with my magic, pushing at the beast with all my force, seeking for a crack in the spells that bound it to this fearsome shape.

  My efforts were too clumsy.

  It lunged at me, but this time I darted away quickly enough. It came at me again, and again I dodged. Again, and again, until we were almost dancing in the storm-tossed street, tiny forks of lightning flashing around us and the air filling with icy rain. The magic sent exhilaration speeding through my blood, but I was tiring fast. I was not accustomed to this dance.

  I placed a foot wrong on the dark and uneven surface of the alleyway. I stumbled, falling hard to my knees, the impact jarring my whole body.

  I was vulnerable. No more time for games.

  In the second - no, the fraction of a second - before the wolf lunged, I threw my magic wide. No more holding back, no more control. I gave it everything I had; more than I had ever thought to possess.

  Other magics answer my own.

  The two little children, the ones I had found in the street, appeared in the alleyway as gently as Gwyneth had faded away. They smiled at me, their black eyes empty, and the wolf whimpered. A flock of birds clustered around them, all looking very much like the bird Delilah had summoned in my house. More ghostly women appeared around us, fading in and out of view with every speeding gust of wind. The wolf, trapped by a host of supernatural beings, span and whirled, its jaws snapping in panic but meeting no target. Overwhelmed and no doubt panicked, it threw back its head and howled. The sound tore through the noise of the wind and sent shivers down my spine, but I was no longer afraid.

  This was my battle.

  My strength flowed back into my body with every pulse of those glowing women, with every flap of those little birds' wings.

  "Enough," I whispered. I reached for all the power that hung in the air. I took the magic from the crackle of lightning, from the driving rain, from the whirling wind. The strength of those many women sank into my veins and pulsed through my blood as if it was my own. I focused on the wolf, narrowed my eyes as my hair whipped around my face, and I clicked my fingers.

  The beast fought against me but I sang its defeat. Louder and louder I sang, instinct guiding me from note to note.

  The wolf weakened. The last of its magic tore away, crumbling uselessly in the wind, and I laughed with delight.

  But even at the moment of my greatest victory, my life fell apart, and the storm stole away the last gasp of my laughter. Because, as the wolf became a man, and he crouched in the street, filthy and naked, I finally saw his face.

  It was Daniel.

  I heard myself scream, and I felt the cold mud on my face, but the rest of the world was gone. I saw only blackness, and even that faded into nothing.

  Understanding the Impossible

  I woke up in a haze of confusion. Where was I? My entire body ached as if a herd of excited debutantes had trampled me, and even my magic seemed to throb. At least, I thought that was my magic. It was hard to tell through the veil of exhaustion.

  I focused my vision enough to realise that I was once again lying in Theo's bed. But how had I got here? I remembered nothing after the alley. Judging by the light that trickled in past the curtains, dawn was already breaking, so I must have been here for quite some time.

  Whoever had tucked me into bed - Theo, presumably - had removed my dress, leaving me in just my chemise and pantaloons. Staggering out of bed, I grabbed Theo's dressing gown and tied it tightly around me. My dress was nowhere to be seen. With any luck, Theo had burned it.

  I headed out into the hallway, only to be confronted with an empty, silent house.

  "Theo," I called, taking cautious steps on my unsteady legs. No reply. I set off downstairs, calling out Theo's name again. I pushed open the door, and for a second, the merry fire and bright candle light gave me a surge of happiness. But it was not Theo who rose from the chair by the fire. It was Delilah, her eyes dark and serious as she stared back at me.

  I almost told her. I almost let it all pour out. But the truth froze on my tongue. I couldn't bear to tell anyone what had happened. Not yet. I still needed to think.

  "How did you find me?" I asked instead. The words felt stiff and awkward in my mouth, as if my body was not quite cooperating with my mind.

  "That maidservant, Gwyneth," Delilah explained. "She appeared here at Theo's house and led him to you."

  I nodded, barely hearing her words. Images of Daniel consumed my every thought. Surely I was wrong. Perhaps it had been nothing but a wicked illusion, cast to make me doubt my relationship with Daniel. But it had felt so real.

  Delilah frowned at me and stepped a little closer. She was more perceptive than I would have liked.

  "Why don't you come into the parlour?" she asked, her voice far gentler than usual. For a moment, I was tempted to refuse, just to see the look on her face. But I no longer had any true desire to fight with her, so I nodded and followed her into Theo's parlour.

  The room was as messy as ever, but I had never seen it so busy. Marcus and Jules sat crammed onto one tiny sofa, while Theo perched on the other, with - to my relief- Hemlock purring on his knee.

  Theo jumped to his feet, grabbing Hemlock at the last possible second and lowering her down to the sofa. He strode forwards to grasp my hands and frown down at me.

  "Lily, what are you doing out of bed? You look exhausted - and no wonder, after taking on that wolf alone! What on earth were you thinking, going after it without me? Are you stupid?"

  He seemed to crumple in on himself as the anger evaporated. He wrapped me in an abrupt hug, pulling me against him so tightly that I stumbled on the wrinkled rug.

  The words tumbled onto the tip of my tongue, ready to spill out. I wanted to tell Theo everything. I wanted to share the burden and let him help me. But my throat seemed frozen, unmoving. I needed to tell him what had happened, but I could not speak. Instead, I hugged him back fiercely, burying my face in his shirt as tears soaked the soft fabric. His arms loosened so that his hands gently stroked my skin. He kissed the top of my head, so feather-light that I barely felt it.

  Without loosening his grip on me, he tugged me across the room and down into the (unfortunately rather lumpy) cushions of the sofa. Only then did he relax enough to lean back and gaze into my eyes as he brushed a damp tendril of hair out of my face.

  "Tell me what happened, Lily," he said softly.

  "I saw the wolf in his true form," I blurted out, the words pouring from my lips. "I saw his human shape, right there in front of me."

  The hunters all leaned close, staring at me.

  Marcus was the first to break the tense silence.

  "Did you recognise him?" he demanded. "Did you see his face?"

  I nodded, the words drying up again, as if my effort to speak had wiped my mouth with sandpaper. Everyone crowded around me, faces peering at me, frowning eyes too close.

  "Who was it?" Marcus demanded, at the same time as Delilah began asking questions and Jules jumped to his feet, and even Theo was too close and speaking too loud, asking me about things I wished I had never heard of.

  I couldn't help it. I screamed, throwing my magic outwards at the same time. Everyone around me flew backwards - not far eno
ugh to injure themselves, but far enough to give me the space I so desperately needed. Jules' face wore an expression of utter shock, but I had no time to worry about him, and I had no more energy to care. Everyone else knew my secret; why not him?

  "Be quiet," I ordered, letting my voice rise to a shout.

  To my surprise, everyone obeyed. Total silence blanketed the room. Even Hemlock ceased her purring.

  "I knew him," I said. "The wolf is my guardian, Daniel Montague."

  The silence only deepened. Tears prickled again in my eyes. If they fell now, there would be no hope of stopping them.

  And then the noise burst out again, everyone talking at once. I could not make out the words, but every sound slammed into my brain like a vicious hammer. I screamed. Glass shattered. The room filled with a whirlwind, a maelstrom, a raging storm, and I smelled blood.

  "Lily, no!"

  Theo's arms wrapped around me, pulling me close against his body. I relaxed into the familiar scent and let my anger go. The storm subsided. When I opened my eyes, the hunters all looked pale, and a small trickle of blood marked Marcus's forehead, but everyone seemed otherwise unharmed. Theo was staring at me, his serious eyes only a few inches from my own.

  "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice as soft and intimate as if we were all alone.

  "He turned back into his human form at the last second," I said, pitching my voice just as low. "I saw him clearly. It was Daniel."

  Theo just stared at me, his face blank.

  "It can't be," he said after a moment of silence. "Daniel loves you. He's a good man. He would never do anything like that. And isn't the wolf supposed to have killed your mother? Daniel would never have killed his closest friend, surely?"

  "Friend?" Jules asked, leaning forwards with a frown. "Do you mean you don't know?"

  Theo and I glanced at each other.

  "Know what?" I asked, painful butterflies dancing in my stomach. "Something about Daniel?"