Dan was tall, but so was Durgan, and in spite of his seeming slight build, the library director was possessed of an almost unnatural strength. He managed to kick upwards and thrown Dan over to one side. Before the young deputy could rise, Durgan threw himself on top, pinning Dan to the floor and trying to pull the gun around to aim it at his head.
Now, Katie thought and moved swiftly into the battlefield, swinging the book at Durgan’s head.
Dan’s look must have given away her attack. Durgan shouted and ducked from her strike. The volume whizzed by his ear, and since it was too unwieldy to hang onto, her own momentum sent it flying out of her grasp. It smacked the wall as she stumbled to her knees in the floor beside the wrestling pair. Durgan tried to turn the gun on her, and seeing the barrel swinging around, her instincts were to duck. Just in time too. His third shot slammed into the wall near Tom who gave a shout and jumped out of range.
Dan came up with a fist, cracking it across Durgan’s jaw and knocking him aside. The gun went skittering across the hall carpet, away from the center of the fight. Durgan sprang to his feet even as Dan scrambled to rise, and the library director’s fist shot out like a trained pugilist. Dan fell back, tripping over Katie as she tried to gain her own feet.
“Oxford boxing team, 1962,” Tom muttered, actually looking astounded.
Dan cursed and fought to rise again. Katie was eyeing the distance to the gun as his weight left her. Dan surged after Durgan again, leaping into a defensive posture as Katie clambered after the pistol.
“NO!” Durgan shouted, shoving his hand into his pocket and drawing forth Dan’s gun.
Time seemed to slow down then, and she later realized it was the fact that in a moment of crisis, every crucial move takes forever. The gun lay mere meters ahead of her. She scrambled after it, sometimes on her feet, sometimes on hands and knees as she stretched her fingers towards the grip. The last few feet felt like miles in her mind.
A gun went off, and she knew it was not the one her fingers brushed. Dan was shouting her name, as was Tom. At first, she thought she had leaned her shoulder against a hot branding iron as pain ripped a fiery line across her flesh. Only the fact that it propelled her headlong down the hall and caused her to strike her intended target gave her a clue that she had actually been shot. That, and the crimson stains that flashed into her peripheral vision. Another shirt ruined, she lamented as she hit the floor.
“Katie!” Dan was screaming her name.
She rolled, agony searing every motion as she flopped over on her back. The gun she had tried to reach skittered farther away from her head. Voices suddenly became echoes in a well. She thought she saw Dan and Tom kneeling over her, thought she felt hands seize her to draw her off the floor. It was hard to tell through the red haze of pain.
“Damn you, Durgan!” Dan was shouting from afar now. She wondered how he managed that since he seemed to be right beside her. Tom was muttering something about the magic that really didn’t make any sense to her. And Durgan was cursing and barking. His voice started to sound like the yap of a fierce terrier. Will someone put a muzzle on him? she thought through her pain.
Maybe they did. She couldn’t be sure, because at that moment, the world decided to go away and leave her alone.
NINETEEN
Katie smelled stagnant water, dust rags, ammonia and old mops badly needing cleaning. Not the most pleasant odors to awaken to under the circumstances. Her head was buzzing, and in her shoulder, there was moisture and heat.
“Well, now, she’s finally coming round, Deputy,” came a familiar voice. “I told you ’twas merely a flesh wound.”
“Katie?” Dan said.
Katie swallowed and opened her eyes. Bright light assailed her vision. She groaned, closing them rather than face the glare. Her tongue felt thick and dry as she tried to speak. “What happened?”
“Durgan shot you,” Dan said. “Looks like it just grazed you, but you hit the floor pretty hard when you fell. You’ve been out for hours.”
“Where are we?” she asked, trying to raise her head as she opened her eyes again. Dark corners, shelves, bottles of cleaner, buckets and mop handles greeted her. Behind Dan’s worried face was a sink. Looked like the old storage closet under the stairs. She was lying on the floor, her head and shoulder pillowed on rolls of toilet tissue and paper towels.
“Easy,” Tom said. “You’re not quite ready to go dancing a jig just yet, Katie MacLeod.”
“I have to get up,” she groused. “I’ve got to close the gate and stop the Erl-King.”
“First things first,” Tom said grimly. “Before you can go after the Erl-King, you must return the magic to my harp. That’s the only way I can heal you.”
“And if we don’t hurry, she’ll bleed to death,” Dan insisted. “Durgan took my radio, so I can’t call for help.”
“We’ve staunched the bleeding,” Tom said. “But there’s naught I can do to heal her until she returns the magic to my harp.”
“What do I need to do?” Katie asked groggily, wishing they would stop arguing.
Tom sighed. “First, by the crackle of your voice, I’d say a bit of water was in order,” he said and gestured to Dan, who begrudgingly crawled to his feet to pick up a carton of plastic throwaway cups used in those little coffee handles the staff kept in their kitchen. He filled one from the sink and brought it back to Katie as she struggled to sit up. Tom supported her as gently as he could, and the effort to rise made her vision swim with pain. But she was determined not to lie on the floor like a lump, not when there was still much to be done.
She took the plastic cup from Dan. The water was tepid and tasted of sulfur and old pipes. Making a face, she forced herself to drain it all. “Now, what do I have to do to give the magic back to your harp?”
“Draw the flag, Katie MacLeod,” Tom said. “And believe.”
Katie frowned. What reason would she have not to believe? After all that had happened, she was willing to start looking for bogles under the bed from now on. With a deep breath, she drew the locket from within her shirt. Dan crouched to one side, looking concerned as she grimaced again. The shoulder felt like it was still on fire. Sweat trickled down her face, and almost tenderly, Tom snatched up a wad of the toilet tissue and pressed the moisture away. His verdant eyes carried a merry twinkle that coaxed Katie to smile.
“You do believe,” he whispered with a grin.
Her fingers shook as she opened the locket. A thrum, like the strings of a harp humming in the wind, filled her ears and seemed to vibrate to the core of her being. She caught her breath in wonder at the sound, looking into the silver locket where a pale green sheen was visible.
“What the...” Dan muttered, drawing up as though he expected to be attacked.
Tom waved a hand for silence.
“Draw it out, Katie MacLeod,” he said, reaching for the harp sitting to one side and bringing it closer.
Draw it out? she thought, eyebrows rising. How could she draw something so fragile from such a tiny space? Yet she found herself reaching in with two fingers, and to her surprise, the locket seemed to expand to let those fingers pass. Under the tips, she felt a tingle, like feathers brushing the small hairs. With a gasp, Katie seized the edge of the silk and pulled.
It wafted out into the air, billowing as though caught in a wind. Yards and yards of pale green silk, embroidered with knots and stitches so tiny, they were almost invisible to the mortal eye. “Oh, my,” she muttered as the drape of green kept coming, flowing forth, sparkling with tiny stars. The glow filled the dark closet until every corner was filled with fairy light.
“Cover the harp,” Tom said, “and tell the magic to return.”
Katie nearly choked on her short laugh. “Right,” she said.
“Do you believe?” he insisted.
She looked at the thin yards fluttering and glittering with power. She nodded.
“Then do it,” Tom said.
Katie took a deep breath and laid the silk flag
over the wooden harp. The tinkle of silvery bells filled the air with each shift of cloth. She took another breath, wondering what concentration was required, as she said, “Go back to the harp,” in a firm voice.
The bells seemed to deepen in tone and become the clear tones of harp strings singing. Green light flared brighter still, forcing Dan to turn aside, and Katie to shade her eyes. Only Tom faced the light fully, and in its glow, the years seemed to fall away from him. His fading hair turned a rich auburn hue. He smiled.
“Take it away now,” he said, “for ’tis done.”
Katie slipped the silk back, and to her surprise it practically oozed back into the locket like a living thing. But even as it disappeared and she snapped the lid shut, the harp continued to glow with fantastic light. True Thomas reached out to caress the wood as though it were a woman’s shoulder. Then he sank to the floor, drawing the harp into his lap, and nimbly strummed a few notes. Each one vibrated up and down Katie’s spine.
“Ah, my lovely, now that’s more like the voice I’m used to hearing from ye,” he murmured. His gaze rose to settle on Katie in such a seductive manner, and she felt herself flush in response.
“What now?” she said.
“It’s my turn now, Katie MacLeod,” Tom said. He closed his eyes and danced fingers across the strings. A tripping little melody filled the closet, and with it, warm fingers seemed to tickle Katie’s skin. She felt the flesh of her back knitting where the bullet had grazed her. Fire of a more pleasant sort sank into her now. The music he invoked was like a drug to her senses, heightening the euphoria as she closed her eyes. All pain slid into the fire and was burned away, leaving her refreshed. Through it all, she heard Tom singing in a voice that hinted secret liaisons and sweet love.
“Maiden fair,
Fresh as spring,
Come hither and meet
The Fairy King.
Maiden fair,
Fresh as a flower,
Come to me here
Within my bower...”
“That’ll be enough of that!” Dan suddenly barked, and only a fool would have missed the jealous anger in his voice. Katie gasped and opened her eyes.
Tom was merely smiling, and the glamour of youth seemed to fade from him like a mist. He was the Tom she had come to be fond of, sly as a fox and mad as a hatter.
“Sorry, Deputy,” he said. “I just had to see if I still had the gift. After several hundred years, one gets a bit out of practice.”
“Practice on someone else,” Dan growled.
“Now, if that’s not love,” Tom insisted, winking at Katie. “How do ye feel, lass?”
“Like I’ve slept on the best bed in the world,” Katie replied.
“Ready to rumble with the Erl-King, then are ye?”
“Bring him on,” Katie said.
Tom chortled. “Well, before we can do that, there’s still the matter of escaping this little prison and dealing with poor Durgan.”
“Poor Durgan?” Dan said, sputtering. “He tried to kill Katie.”
“A mere flesh wound,” Tom insisted. “In spite of his threats, he wasn’t his own man. He was an arm of the Erl-King, and had little choice in his own actions. And I still say he would not have been such a fool as to kill her, for the Erl-King does sometimes take a human bride when it suits his fancy. Elsewise, he would have killed Katie as he did poor Lonnie and taken the locket from her himself.”
“Well, he can look to his own for a bride,” Katie said, crawling to her feet.
“Do ye still have the keys?” Tom asked.
Katie reached into her pocket and found both keys were still there. Durgan must have been too preoccupied with his role as villain to stop and think that she had her work keys with her. She nodded and grinned. “Yep.”
“The door, then” Tom said.
“That’s a dead-bolt,” Katie said. “It only locks from the other side.”
“Not that door,” Tom insisted. He rose, tenderly hauling the harp under one arm and pointed to the wall behind her where a metal shelf stood covered with supplies. “The one behind there.”
“There’s a door behind there?” Dan insisted.
Tom nodded. “Leads into the pantry.”
“You knew this all along?” Dan insisted. “We didn’t have to sit here and wait for Katie to give you back your magic. We could have gotten out of here ourselves.”
“Aye,” Tom said and began clearing items off the shelves. “But I had to see if she could give me the magic back. Elsewise, you would have turned us over to your Uncle to get Katie to the hospital, and that would have delayed matters much more than they already are. Now if ye’d stop yer nattering and come give me a hand with this stuff.”
“I’m not the one nattering,” Dan muttered.
Katie rolled her eyes, dragging paper towel boxes off the shelves and heaving them aside. Within moments, they had the shelves cleared and were lifting the metal one out of the way. Behind it, she saw what looked like a wall. At least, it did until Tom pressed what she thought was a knothole in the wood. It clicked and disappeared to reveal a keyhole. He backed away and bowed to Katie.
“My lady, if you would be so kind,” he said.
Katie pushed one of the keys into the lock and felt it turn with no resistance. There was another click, and the panel of wood popped open to reveal a small pantry with a curtain over the opening. This time, Katie decided to take the lead. She crossed to the curtain and pushed it aside, making a gap to peer through.
The kitchen greeted her, quiet and shadowy in the fading light of late afternoon. Empty, except for the furniture and appliances. “All’s clear so far,” she whispered.
“I’ll lead,” Dan said, but before he could assume that position, Tom took the young deputy’s arm and shook his head.
“I think it best I lead this time,” Tom said. “After all, Durgan has a gun, and you don’t.”
“Like you can really stop him with your harp?” Dan said with a sneer.
“I can, lad, and I’ll prove it.”
Katie sighed. Men. “Could you guys cut the macho bull?” she hissed. “Durgan could be anywhere!”
Two surly glances turned her way. Dan set his mouth into a tight line and glowered sidewise at Tom, who moved ahead to take the lead. He slipped out into the kitchen, taking time to look into the back hall before entering it. Katie followed, letting Dan guard their backs this time. And she noticed how he took a moment to approach the old cooking fireplace and snatch up one of the irons left there more for looks than use.
The quiet parade tiptoed down the back hall and into the main one. Faintly, a voice could be heard. They moved on, and Katie realized it was Durgan. Sounded like he was on the phone.
“Yes, Miss MacGreeley, I assure you, there will be no problem with the centennial tomorrow. It is a minor delay, and I expect it shall be eliminated tonight. Yes, I have called an expert this time. Besides, I have not been able to contact either of our maintenance men. Master Bales, I am told, is not feeling well, and Master Hume seems to have left town to answer the call of a sick aunt.”
Henry and Bud? Katie thought darkly. What had Durgan done with them? Like as not, they were prisoners of the Erl-King and his Host. She frowned. Obviously, no one was safe from Durgan’s ambition or the Erl-King’s wrath.
Cautiously, they approached the entrance to Durgan’s office. The door sat open, and warm light flooded forth. It gleamed on the barrel of her shotgun still leaning against the jamb. She paused to touch Dan’s arm and gesture towards the gun. He nodded and shifted courses, crossing the room from a distance. Durgan’s desk was set so he could see the front door, but if Dan just stayed in the shadows and crouched when he passed the windows, he might manage to get there unnoticed.
Durgan was pressing the touch-tone, playing a dissonant melody as he made another call. “Sheriff Cannon, yes, this is Mr. Durgan. I’m afraid I have a bit of bad news for you. Your nephew has apparently fallen on the wayside of his duty to his badge. I was l
ooking out the front windows of the library, and I just saw him assisting Miss MacLeod. Yes, he had her and that smelly vagrant in the back of his car and he drove right through the center of Mercyville. No, I gathered they must be heading for the highway.”
“That lying...” Dan muttered.
Tom’s glance flashed sharply across to warn Dan who was crouched behind one of the display cases. Katie held her breath.
“Excuse me, Sheriff, I hear someone at the door,” Durgan said. “Probably the maintenance men have lost their keys. Yes, I shall inform you if I see anything else.”
The audible click of the phone sent a wave of cold through Katie’s stomach. She did not want to be locked back in the closet, key or no key. She turned a look at Tom. He was settling himself down near the corner of the front desk, pulling the harp to his chest and laying a hand on the strings as his gaze settled on the door. Katie crawled around to the back of the counter to wait, peering around a pile of books. Dan froze.
Movements were heard, and a long shadow reached out of the office. From her hiding place, Katie could tell Durgan had a gun. All the more reason to be still, she knew. The memory of being grazed by a bullet was still with her, if not the pain.
Durgan stepped out of the office. He glanced from side to side. Then he pocketed the pistol and snatched up Katie’s shotgun.
Tom plucked several notes on the harp, letting the sound swell. Durgan turned towards the sound with a gasp, swinging the shotgun and aiming it towards the far end of the counter. Tom threw back his head and began to sing.
“Iron cold as winter
Light white as bones
Let the glamour be shorn
Like the weight of a stone.”
Durgan faltered, and that was all the time Dan needed to take advantage of the library director. He surged out of his hiding place just as a white light flooded the room. It settled over Durgan like a cloak, and he turned, his mouth working up and down in the manner of a demented marionette. The gun was torn from his hands, and still, he stood with an idiot stare, bathed in white light.
Angels of Mercy Page 19
