The Clockwork Wolf (32 page)

I turned to see Night Snow driving Dredmore's carri, and grinned as I hurried over to him. “You got away from the police.”

“He had some assistance, my dear.” The door opened, and Lykaon stepped out and leveled a pistol at me. “If you run or call for help or do anything besides getting in the vehicle, I will shoot you.”

A blanket-wrapped bundle the size of the War Heart sat on the bench next to Night Snow. “He's been using you all along, hasn't he?”

The native didn't speak or look at me, but once I got into the carri Lykaon was happy to gloat.

“You shouldn't feel any bitterness toward the heathen,” he said. “It took only a flick of my power to have him steal the War Heart and the wolf spirit spell along with it. He doesn't remember anything I've made him do.”

I kept my tone pleasant. “You had him bring the skull to Raynard Manor for safekeeping.”

“That did not require a spell,” Lykaon admitted. “I had only to tell him what he'd already done, and promise to tell his tribe if he did not obey me.”

I regarded him. “I wonder, what will you do when the other Aramanthan are reborn? I daresay you won't be able to bespell or blackmail any of
them
.”

He smirked. “I will have restored them to the world. For that they will worship me.”

“I should think they'll all want to be in charge,” I said. “None of your lot are especially subservient. It is
why your race was destroyed, isn't it? Too many chiefs, not enough stable hands?”

Instead of hitting me, Lykaon chuckled. “Merlin would have told you such tales of us. It is not entirely unexpected. He has ever been a hypocrite, and now he is quite powerless.”

“Yet he escaped you,” I pointed out, “and he did that in the body of a helpless child. Kings are not usually so easily defeated. If fact I can't think of a single one who has been outwitted by a small boy.”

The Aramanthan's mouth distorted into a sneer. “You will not provoke me into anger, hell child. I know the shaman adopted you as his daughter, and told you how to bring the wolf spirit under my control. The young heathen confessed it all.”

“Now you need
me
to secure your kingdom. I see.” I closed my eyes. “You really should rethink these plans.”

I needed to conserve what was left of my strength, so I allowed the sway of the carri to lull me into a doze. I'd never been one to wallow in regrets, and while I'd acted on impulse with Tommy in the park, I was not sorry for it. Nor for my time with Dredmore before I'd destroyed that. Both men had their place in my heart, and I'd cherish each memory for as long as I could.

My nap ended with the abrupt braking of the carri, and I looked out to see the road leading into the city filled with natives dressed for battle, each carrying a flaming torch. On the opposite side of the road, a man in a tweed suit stood by a carri and seemed to be watching the advance of the natives through a short telescope.

Lykaon climbed down and offered me a hand. “It is time for you to do your work, Miss Kittredge.”

I ignored his hand and got out. From here I could see the Wolfmen pouring out of the city a mile beyond, their jaws snapping and their claws slashing. Night Snow came down from his bench carrying the bundle, which Lykaon took from him.

The native warriors closed ranks and gave a terrifying shout as they raised their spears and bows. The approaching Wolfmen answered them with savage howls.

“My soldiers will fight until the death,” Lykaon said, “but without the proper spell they stand no chance against the heathens. Once they have been defeated, the tribes will attack the city.”

“We have a militia,” I told him, measuring the shrinking gap between the two armies as intently as the man in the tweed suit was. “They will defend the citizens.”

“My Wolfmen have been hunting your soldiers all night,” Lykaon said. “Their bodies already litter the streets. You cannot save Rumsen unless you have my Wolfmen to protect it—and that I will not do until you give me the spell.”

Blue Fox and the tribal chiefs were riding at the front of the attacking warriors, I saw, and closed my eyes. “I gave my word to the old shaman. I can't betray him like this.”

“Do you think that heathen cares anything for you, Miss Kittredge?” Lykaon leaned close. “He gave you to me to get the skull. He knew I'd kill you before you could work the spell. He wanted you dead.”

I shook my head. “He wouldn't use me like that. He was kind.”

“It was all a ruse, to manipulate you and me,” Lykaon assured me. “All that old man has ever wanted is the skull. It's the only real power he has left—and you are handing it over along with the lives of everyone you care for.”

“If you give him the skull, he won't attack the city,” I insisted.

“Then why does he need the skull now? Why did he bring all these warriors to surround Rumsen, if he sent you to defeat me?” Lykaon shook his head. “You have been a fool, my dear. I am the only one who can save you and your people now, and you know my price.”

I gnawed at my lower lip. “If I tell you how to work the spell, will you promise to spare the city?”

“I give you my solemn vow,” he said. “Only the natives will die. As they should, for their treachery.”

Slowly I reached for the carved shell pendant Blue Fox had given me, and removed it from my neck.

“You must wear this,” I told him. I waited until Lykaon slipped it over his head before I said to Night Snow, “Put the War Heart on the ground and uncover it.”

The young native gave me a bleak look before he set down the bundle and removed the blanket.

I started to walk off, but Lykaon latched on to my arm. “You are not running away.”

“I am
moving
away from you,” I told him, “so that I won't disrupt the ritual. As soon as I do, wait until you see the first rays of sunlight, and then cast the binding
spell again. Oh, and you must hold the pendant high above your head, to send the spirit where it belongs.”

He scowled. “My soldiers are already bound to me.”

“You're not binding them to you,” I said, pointing at the pendant. “You're binding the spirit to that. Then whoever wears it controls the spirit. Forever.”

“Go with her,” Lykaon told Night Snow, and tossed a dagger to him. “If she tries to escape, slit her throat.”

As we walked away the young native stuck the dagger in his belt. “You are very brave, miss. Very . . . convincing.”

I gave him a nudge with my elbow. “You did rather well, too, I must say.”

We stopped and turned as the sun began to rise, and Lykaon raised the pendant and began to chant. As the Wolfmen reached their master they encircled him, howling with delight as War Heart became illuminated by bloodred power. One by one they fell silent as the pendant began to glow.

Night Snow cringed a little. “I have never seen this done.”

“I have,” I said. “Lykaon did it to my grandfather just the other night. Pity he didn't look closer at the pendant.” I nodded at the man in the tweed suit, who had turned his telescope on us. “Friend of yours?”

“Bureau man,” Night Snow said. “He reports to the mayor.”

“Oh, how convenient,” I said. “I'll have to give him a note of apology for Lady Raynard.”

Yellow light shone out from the carved shell in Lykaon's hand, and fell round him in a vivid swirl. It also cast a glow on the young native warrior who came up behind the immortal and thrust a spear through his body.

Lykaon staggered, but the light held him like a cage. The end of the spear impaling him caught fire as the
pendant fell from his hand. He spun about until his gaze caught mine.

“What have you done to me?” he roared.

“I forgot to mention,” I called back. “The spirit that is being bound isn't the wolf's. It's actually yours.”

The Wolfmen began to drop in their tracks, one by one, their bodies going limp as a scarlet mist rose from their chests and flew toward the War Heart. The approaching tribal warriors also halted, their faces growing solemn as they watched the wolf spirit returning to their relic.

Lykaon's body began to shake. The color of his flesh dulled to gray, and began to flake off like ash, bit by bit. When he tried to grasp the spear, his arms fell away from his shoulders, and hung from it like ghastly trophies. The morning breeze caught the ash and set it adrift.

“It cannot end this way,” the Aramanthan howled. “It cannot—”

I felt certain he would have said more, but his jaw chose that moment to fall from of his face and disintegrate. I looked away and saw a familiar figure emerge from the native ranks, the wind dancing along the feathered edge of his blue cape.

As Lykaon's body deteriorated, his spirit rose from his ashen remains, battering the cage of light, which began to shrink, smaller and tighter until he was trapped in a terrible bright light no bigger than a pebble.

Beside me Night Snow tensed, and I patted his shoulder. “This is the best part.”

The light danced for a moment before it was sucked into the shell pendant, which fell to the ground at the feet of Blue Fox.

With great dignity the shaman bent and picked up the pendant by the strip of leather and held it up to show the warriors, who let out a tremendous cry of victory.

The sunlight warmed my face as I walked over to the Wolfmen. Some had already died, but many were still breathing. I suspected the mech in their bodies would slowly poison their blood; without Lykaon's magic they could not survive. The only true relief I felt was not finding Tom Doyle's face among them.

I turned to see the red glow of the War Heart fade away, until all that remained was an old, brittle wolf skull. It still made my skin crawl, but then, most bones did. It made me glad I hadn't let Blue Fox adopt me. I really would have made a terrible native woman.

Night Snow escorted me back to where Blue Fox stood waiting, and the shaman held out the pendant to me. “My thanks, Miss Kittredge.”

I put the pendant round my neck before I walked over to the skull. I gave Blue Fox a final glance—he nodded at me—before I picked it up and carried it back to present to him.

“The people of Rumsen are very sorry this was stolen from your tribe, Blue Fox,” I said for the benefit of the chiefs watching us. “Please accept it with our apologies.”

He bowed to me before he carried the skull off to the waiting chiefs.

The now very pale man in the tweed suit rushed up to us, stopped short, and then gave me a little wave. “Excuse me, miss, but is this, ah, settled, then?”

I eyed him. “And you are?”

“Toby Gervais, Bureau of Native Affairs.” He
pointed to a group of other pale, nervous-looking men standing off in the distance. “We were sent to observe the, ah, whatever this was.” He bobbed his head. “How do you do?”

“Very well, Mr. Gervais.” I glanced at Blue Fox and Night Snow before I smiled at him. “And yes, I believe everything has been settled quite amicably.” I noticed a familiar-looking carri racing out of the city and toward us at great speed. “At least with the natives.”

Dredmore couldn't drive over the unconscious Wolfmen, now transformed into their mortal selves, so he walked round them to get to me. Then he snatched me up and kissed the breath out of me.

When our lips parted I looked up at him. “Who bailed you out of jail?”

“Mrs. Eagle.” He glanced at the mess on the ground. “Lykaon?”

“All tucked away in here.” I held up the pendant to my ear. “Do you know, I think he wants to go for a sea bathe.”

Dredmore watched with me as Blue Fox and the tribal chiefs retreated eastward with the War Heart, followed by their warriors. “So you gave them back the skull.”

“I promised the shaman I would.” I yawned. “I don't think Blue Fox will be using it again, unless he needs a lampshade or something.”

Dredmore turned to me. “What did you say?”

“I
gave
it to him, Lucien. I picked it up with my own hands and carried it to him. Just after the wolf spirit returned to it.” Which had been for the very last time.

“Indeed.” He examined me. “And no backlash.”

“I told you.” I brushed a bit of burned Lykaon from my sleeve. “There never is.”

•   •   •

Dredmore wanted to take me to Morehaven, of course, but I wished to sleep in my own bed. I told him that several times as we drove back to the city before my eyelids refused to stay up and I slid into a deep and dreamless sleep.

I woke up in Rina's bed at the Eagle's Nest, with my friend fussing over me like an old hen. “Now this time you can't scold me. I told Lucien to take me home.”

“You needed someone to look after you, love.” Rina brought me a cup of tea. “You've been out for three days straight. Bringing you here was his way of compromising, I guess. Doyle's been by to look in on you, too.”

I choked and nearly spilled the tea down my front. “Tommy's alive?”

“Bit banged up from fighting them Wolfmen, but nothing too serious.” She frowned. “What?”

“He still has the strong suit inside him?” When she nodded I sat back. “If the wolf spirit isn't binding him, and Lykaon isn't controlling him, then what's keeping him alive?”

“Will to live, I'd say.” She chucked me under the chin. “Told you the lad was a tough one.”

Lad.
I bolted upright. “God in Heaven— Harry. With all the madness I never gave him a single thought.” I reached for her hand. “Please tell me he's not still trapped inside that child.”

“He is not, and for that you may thank me and my bottle of gut-toss,” Rina said. “Didn't hurt Harry or the kid. I sent the lad over to John Halter; he'll see
to his schooling and keep until he's old enough to get work.”