The Clockwork Wolf (28 page)

“If the father never admits it, and the English girl says nothing, and the relic is recovered . . .” His mouth quirked. “No law is broken.”

“In that case, I'm delighted with my very real adoption that no one actually witnessed. This is all purely conjecture, so that I might better understand tribal law.” I winked at him.

He gave me a flashing grin. “You have a very good grasp of it already, miss.”

The cart drove on for another half hour before coming to a stop.

“You should struggle a bit,” Night Snow advised me as he helped me to my feet. He paused. “And I must make you appear more . . . unwilling.”

“Very well.” I sighed and braced myself against the wall. “No hitting.”

He didn't strike me, but he did remove my dress jacket, tousle my hair, tear my right sleeve almost completely away from the shoulder seam, and rent my skirts in several places.

He stood back to inspect me. “That's better. Sorry about your garms.”

“So am I.” I lifted my bound wrists. “No jostling the hurt arm, please.”

He knelt down, slung me over his shoulder, and jumped out of the cart with me.

•   •   •

Although my helpless position caused me to see everything upside-down, as Night Snow strode from the cart I noted our destination: toward a group of men on horses, gathered round a gleaming white carri. The
vehicle, which looked as immaculate as if it belonged to a Duke, had been outfitted in polished bone instead of the usual brass. None of the men surrounding the ghastly monstrosity looked especially happy, and more than a few drew out daggers and pistols as Night Snow drew nearer.

Lykaon climbed out of the white carri, his gloved hands holding a neatly wrapped bundle. “How good of you gents to be on time.”

Night Snow placed me on my feet and held a blade to my neck. “Don't struggle now,” he whispered before he called out, “Show us the War Heart, or she dies.”

The Aramanthan unwrapped the relic, which was simply the bleached skull of a very large wolf. “As you see. Now bring her to me and we will make the trade.”

Night Snow lowered the blade and marched me forward, at which point I thought it prudent to begin my resistance.

“You can't trade me for some old bones,” I protested loudly. “I am a free citizen, not a hank of beads.”

“Calm yourself, Miss Kittredge,” Lykaon said as I was presented to him. “I am here to rescue you.”

“Please, sir.” I gave him an ironic look. “I know you had them abduct me precisely to make this exchange.”

“Nothing is free, Miss Kittredge. It is a rule of commerce.” He handed the skull to Night Snow and then took hold of my wrists. “This concludes our transaction. Do give my best wishes to the rest of the heathen hordes.”

He shoved me into the carri and climbed in after me, catching the back of my bodice as I stumbled and pushing me onto the rear-facing bench.

“Really, sir, must you manhandle me?” I tried to shrug my sagging sleeve back into place.

“That voice.” He tapped his chin before snapping his fingers. “You were the courier who was arrested at the club.”

“You are mistaken,” I said, and realized Doyle was correct; I did sound very sincere when I was lying. “I have never been a courier.”

“I know exactly what you are, spell breaker.” His full lips stretched wide. “You think your playacting back there deceived me? I have walked among your kind for millennia. I know what the old shaman has planned. He thinks you can dispel my soldiers and dismantle my army.”

“You have an army?” I feigned surprise. “What a coincidence, so does Rumsen. But I expect very soon you'll become acquainted with them.”

He leaned forward, his eyes burning with a disagreeable yellow light. “While you will become very intimately acquainted with mine.”

“As it happens, I've already met several of them,” I advised him. “I don't believe they will wish to repeat the experience. But then, the others are all going to die soon anyway, aren't they? Thanks to you and your bungling the magic.”

“Insolent insect.” He slapped me for good measure, sending me careening into the side of the carri. “You know nothing of me. I could kill you with a thought.”

It would have been to my advantage to stay huddled and silent in the corner, but no one ever accused me of being especially prudent under duress.

I pushed myself up, squinting at him as I wiped the blood from my mouth on my ruined sleeve. “So where
am I to meet to this most unpleasant of fates? In Rosings Park? In a hospital bed? Surely not on another market tram; that didn't work at all well the last time.”

“My soldiers are waiting for you at the club,” Lykaon said. “Where you'll be the main entertainment for my esteemed membership. You do remember the romping room.”

I didn't say anything more to him, for he'd told me everything I needed to know. I could also feel my eye beginning to swell shut, and I'd need the other to carry out Blue Fox's plan.

If I lived that long.

Lykaon's driver stopped in the alley behind the club, where I was unceremoniously dragged out by two footmen and carried inside.

“I'll be a much livelier victim if you'll stop crushing my limbs,” I told the men, who did not respond or ease their grip. “I never imagined natives would be superior captors, but compared to you they were practically gentlemen.”

I was taken directly to what Lykaon called his romping room, which appeared filled to capacity with new club members. They applauded me as I was led through them toward some sort of platform made of black-painted wood. Heavy shackles had been fixed to all four corners, and one of the men released me to unlock them.

A tall, thin man got up and walked past me without so much as a glance. “We need more champagne. Where the devil is that butler?” He sauntered out of the room.

I regarded the leering faces round me. “Is there not a decent man among you who will put a stop to this now?” I was answered by raucously laughing and several of the most lewd and lascivious suggestions ever to pollute my ears. “I see.”

I looked at the footman still holding on to me. Fortunately he was rather young and looked somewhat
green. “I'm a helpless woman, and they won't stop until I'm dead, you know. You'll be an accessory to murder. Or you may end up on that thing.”

He gave me an incredulous look. “Can't do that to a man, miss.”

“They didn't tell you? Oh, dear.” I leaned forward as if to whisper more, and then drove my knee into his groin. As he dropped I slipped my hands out of the cord Night Snow had merely wrapped round my wrists, picked up a full bottle of champagne, and smashed it over the skull of the other footman. “Seems I'm not so helpless after all.”

I ran, dodging the hands that snatched at me, and made it out into the hall before more footmen appeared. I feinted going for the stairs before I ducked under grabbing arms and fled to the front foyer.

Lykaon stood waiting for me just outside on the steps, and climbed them as he brought with him a young, writhing boy he was holding by the throat.

“Take another step,” he said, “and I'll snap his neck.”

As I retreated, he carried the gasping urchin inside and set him on his feet. The butler appeared, and hurried to lock the entry.

“I won't try to run again,” I said quietly. “You don't have to hurt the boy.”

“I knew what you would do before you did it. That is how simple you are to me.” The Aramanthan stroked the matted hair of the sobbing child. “Now we have a dilemma. Should I give them the boy first? He won't last very long, but you'll gain a few more precious minutes of life. And you may have some wine and watch with the others.”

This was the last straw. “I had thought I had met the worst scum of your lot, but I was in error.” I closed my eyes, summoning Harry with every ounce of my will.

Lykaon made a satisfied sound before he murmured, “At last.”

Something felt wrong, and my eyes snapped open to see the Aramanthan holding aloft a glittering stone. At the same time Harry materialized, looking from me to the boy, and then at Lykaon.

“Wait— Harry, it's a trap!” I shouted, but by then the power of the stone was dragging at him. When I tried to fling myself at Lykaon someone caught me from behind and held me.

“He is mine now,” the Aramanthan said.

The mist that had been my grandfather was pulled into the stone, vanishing into its core. As soon as Harry was imprisoned, Lykaon pulled the street urchin closer and forced the stone into his mouth.

“Swallow it,” he told the child, shaking him until he did.

The boy staggered away, his eyes rolling up in his head before he dropped to his knees. When he lifted his face again his eyes had filled with a cold, relentless fury.

“You would imprison me in this babe?” the boy said in Harry's voice. “He is an innocent mortal.”

“Where is your gratitude, old friend?” Lykaon picked up the boy like a doll. “You shall have a long and interesting life in this body—once it matures. Until then, you will be like a son to me. A very faithful, obedient son.”

With a quick movement, Harry latched on to Lykaon's nose with his teeth, viciously clamping down
as blood streamed to the Aramanthan's chin. Using his hand to squeeze the boy's jaw mercilessly until Harry released him, Lykaon handed the boy to the butler. “But for that, you will be whipped. Take him away.”

I watched Harry struggling to free himself from the butler's viselike grip, and when they vanished down the hall I regarded the Aramanthan. “This is why you traded the skull for me. So that I'd bring him to you.”

“It isn't cleverness if you realize it after the fact.” Lykaon mopped the blood from his face and felt his nose, which had already healed. “But thank you just the same.”

I stared at him. “You think I'm going to give up, just like that?”

“Merlin—or what is it you call him? Harry? Names are so tedious.” He went to a mirror to examine his reflection. “Your Harry will be whipped for injuring me. As he now possesses a mortal body, his skin will come apart. He will bleed and scream and feel every lash, just as the boy would.”

“He was only defending himself.”

“So am I. Do you know, in my time among you mortals I have witnessed punishments so painful and cruel that they are only spoken of in whispers. So while it is true that I cannot kill Harry, Miss Kittredge, I can make him wish for death. I daresay in time I can even make the old meddler beg for it.”

The pleasure in his voice turned my spine to ice. “You really are a beast.”

“Once I was called the Wolf King. Soon I will be king of Rumsen, and then Toriana, and then the world. I much prefer that.” He turned round and nodded to the
footman holding me. “The men will be growing restless, and they deserve some special entertainment tonight. Take her back to them now.”

•   •   •

No one applauded this time as I was dragged kicking and screaming back to the altar. The men sat as if bespelled by the sight of me being strapped down, their hands holding goblets with wine they weren't drinking, and ash falling from the cigars they weren't smoking. I fell silent, too, as heavy thuds sounded from outside in the hall.

At least two Wolfmen, coming to make my acquaintance.

I turned my head and addressed the man nearest to me. “You know that Lykaon has been taking men from the club and turning them into monsters. But what he hasn't told you is that the magic is lethal—it kills every man it's used on. He means to do the same to you, and because the spell is wrong it will turn out the same as all the others.” I turned my head to the other side of the room. “He will sacrifice every one of you.”

Some of the men paled, and several began muttering to each other. Yet not one of them moved to help me or made any protest.

They were nothing but sheep, all of them. “Every Wolfman has died, you simpletons. You know this—and the same will happen to you. All of you will run amok and then die horrible deaths.”

One of the spectators took a quick gulp of his wine before he said to footman, “Can't you gag her, man?”

The Wolfmen were in full, hairy transformation as they burst in the room. I saw men scrambling out of the
way as they stalked toward me, their beastly countenances filled with hatred and lust. Dredmore could not save me, and Harry had been rendered helpless. In my heart I knew there would be no escape from them this time.

I closed my eyes and thought of the gardens at Morehaven. Whatever was done to me now, I would be there in my heart.

The sound of another Wolfmen came thumping into the room, but instead of growling he spoke. “Get away from her.”

I opened my eyes to see Chief Inspector Doyle standing just behind the Wolfmen, his body encased in Docket's strong suit. My relief was so massive that I screamed his name.

“Tommy!”

The Wolfmen both attacked him in tandem, snapping and clawing as they set on him. I cringed and then craned my head as Doyle knocked both of the beasts away into the spectators, causing furnishings to smash, crystal to shatter and men to shout in terror.

Motors whirred as Doyle thumped over to me, his determined features a sight even lovelier to behold than my memory of Dredmore's flowers.

“They're getting up,” I told him as he hooked his hand brace over one shackle and tore it free. “When you have another go at them, hit them square in the chest; that's where the clockworks are.”

Doyle didn't have the opportunity to hit anything, as he was dragged away from the altar by one beast and clawed by the other. Sparks flew from the strong suit as he returned the mauling by catching the Wolfman's hand and crushing
it to a mangled pulp. I went to work on my other shackle, yanking at it furiously as Doyle fought off the beasts.