out of a window? Now, let's move it. He can't be more than a few minutes ahead
of us."
They pounded down the alley and out into Leech Street. Fenris was halfway down
the street and running well. Hawk and Fisher charged after him. The crowds
turned to watch. Some laughed, a few cheered, and the rest yelled insults and
placed bets. A few up ahead took in Fisher's black cloak and moved to block the
street. Guards weren't much respected in Leech Street. Hawk glared at them.
"We're Hawk and Fisher, city Guard. Get the hell out of the way!"
The crowd parted suddenly before them, falling back on all sides to give them
plenty of room. Fenris glanced back over his shoulder and redoubled his efforts.
Fisher nodded approvingly at the more respectful crowd.
"I think they've heard of us, Hawk."
"Shut up and keep running."
Fenris darted down a side alley, and Hawk and Fisher plunged in after him. Hawk
was already breathing hard. Fenris led them through a twisting maze of narrow
streets and back alleys, changing direction and doubling back whenever he could.
Hawk and Fisher stuck doggedly with him, breath burning in their lungs and sweat
running down their heaving sides. Fenris ran through a street market,
overturning stalls as he went, to try and slow them down. Hawk just ploughed
right through the wreckage, with Fisher close behind. Furious stallholders shook
their fists and called down curses on the heads of pursued and pursuers alike.
Hawk's scowl deepened as he ran. Fenris was leading them deep into the rotten
heart of the Northside, but Hawk was damned if he could figure out exactly where
the man was headed. He must have some destination in mind, some bolt-hole he
could hide in, or a friend who'd protect him. Hawk smiled nastily. He didn't
care if the spy ended up in the Hall of Justice, protected by all twelve Judges
and the King himself; Fenris was going to gaol, preferably in chains. It had
become a matter of honor. Not to mention revenge. Hawk hated chases.
And then Fenris rounded a corner at full speed, and darted up an exterior
stairway on a large squat building of stained and patterned stone. Hawk started
after him, but Fisher grabbed him by the arm and brought them both to a sudden
halt. Fenris disappeared through a door into the building. Hawk turned on
Fisher.
"Before you say anything, Hawk. Look where we are."
Hawk glared around him, and then grimaced, his anger draining quickly away.
Fenris had brought them to Magus Court, home to all the lowlife magicians and
sorcerers in Haven. The place looked deserted for the moment, but that could
change in a second. On the whole, Guards tended to walk very quietly in and
around Magus Court and not draw attention to themselves. Certainly, no one ever
tried to make arrests there without massive support from the Guard, and, if
necessary, the army. Otherwise they'd have been safer playing brass instruments
in a cave full of hibernating bears.
"That's not all," said Fisher. "Look whose house he's holed up in."
Hawk looked, and groaned. "Grimm," he said disgustedly. "All the magic-users
Fenris could have known, and it had to be the sorcerer Grimm."
He and Fisher leant against the wall at the bottom of the exterior stairway and
grabbed a few minutes' rest while they tried to work out what the hell to do
next. Hawk and Fisher knew Grimm, and he knew them. They'd crossed swords
before, metaphorically speaking, but Hawk and Fisher had never been able to pin
anything on him. People were too scared to talk.
Grimm was a medium-level sorcerer with unpleasant personal habits who
specialized in shape changing. He could do anything from a face-lift to a full
body transformation, depending on the needs, and wealth, of his client. He had
no scruples; he'd do anything, to anyone. Criminals found his services very
useful, either for themselves, to change an appearance that had grown too
well-known, or for taking revenge on their enemies. The Guard had found one
up-and-coming crime boss wandering the streets in the early hours of the
morning, leaving a bloody trail behind him. It took them some time to identify
him. He'd been flayed, every inch of skin removed from head to toe, but he was
still alive, and screaming. He took a long time to die in the main city
hospital, and he only stopped screaming when his voice gave out.
It figured Fenris would know someone like Grimm. All the spy had to do was
acquire a new face and build and he could disappear into the crowds right under
Hawk's and Fisher's noses. On the other hand, they couldn't just go barging in
after him. Grimm was a sorcerer and took his privacy very seriously. Officially,
any Guard could enter any premises in Haven, providing they could demonstrate
good cause in the Courts afterwards. In practice, it all depended on whose home
you were talking about. Having a Court declare you posthumously correct wasn't
much of a comfort, and sorcerers tended to throw spells first and think
afterwards. Constant industrial espionage among magic-users had produced a
general paranoia and split-second reflexes.
"What do you think?" said Hawk finally.
"I think we should think about this very carefully," said Fisher. "I have no
desire to spend the rest of my life as a combination of several small,
unpleasant, and very smelly animals. Shapechange sorcerers are renowned for
having a very warped sense of humor. I say we stay put and call for backup."
"By the time anyone gets here, Fenris will have his new face and we'll have lost
him."
Fisher scowled. "Given the alternatives, I say let him go.
It's not as if he was a murderer or something. Hell, Haven's full of spies.
What's one more or less going to make any difference?"
"No," said Hawk firmly. "We can't let him go. It would be bad for our
reputation. People would think we'd got soft, and take advantage."
Fisher shook her head. "There has to be an easier way to make a living. All
right, let's go in after him. No point in sneaking around. Grimm's bound to have
the place covered with security spells to warn of intruders. So, crash straight
in and trust to the suppressor stone to protect us. Right?"
"Sounds good to me," said Hawk. "Let's do it."
He handed Fisher the suppressor stone, and she muttered the activating phrase.
The stone glowed fiercely in her hand like a miniature star. They started up the
exterior stairway, Hawk in the lead, axe at the ready. The stairs creaked
loudly. Great, thought Hawk, Just great. They hurried up the steps to the door
at the top of the stairway. Hawk listened carefully, his ear pressed against the
wood, but he couldn't hear anything. He tried the door handle and it turned
stiffly in his grasp. He eased the door open an inch, and then stepped back. He
glanced at Fisher for reassurance, and found she was doing the same to him. He
smiled briefly. They both counted to three under their breath, kicked the door
in and burst into the room beyond, weapons at the ready.
The sorcerer Grimm was escorting a robed and hooded figure to a door at the far
end of the room. He spun round and glared at the intruders, and then pushed the
was out the door and gone before they got anywhere near him. Which left them
facing the sorcerer. Grimm was a huge, broad-chested man dressed in sorcerer's
black, with a thick beard and an impressive mane of jet-black hair. He was
smiling unpleasantly, like a vulture about to feed on a dead man's eyes.
"You're under arrest, in the name of the Guard!" said Hawk resolutely, and then
flung himself to one side as Grimm snatched a ball of fire out of thin air and
threw it at him. The fireball hit a chair and incinerated it. Fisher threw a
knife while the sorcerer was distracted, and it sank deep into Grimm's arm. He
cursed briefly, pulled the knife out, and threw it aside. Hawk and Fisher
charged across the room towards him. The sorcerer drew himself up and spoke a
Word of Power. The suppressor stone flared up, canceling out his magic. Hawk and
Fisher hit the sorcerer together, throwing him to the floor. There was a short,
confused struggle, and then Fisher clubbed him unconscious with the hilt of her
sword. Grimm went limp, and Hawk and Fisher rolled off him. They sat together,
backs against the wall, and waited for their breathing to get back to normal.
"Well, at least we've got something to show for the chase," said Hawk.
"Yeah," said Fisher. "Pity about Fenris, though. We were that close to getting
him…"
"Forget it," said Hawk. "He's long gone by now, with a new face and build, the
crafty bastard. We'll have to start over from scratch."
"Right. Our superiors are not going to be pleased with us."
They sat in silence for a while.
"There isn't a reward on Grimm, by any chance, is there?" said Hawk hopefully.
"No chance. There's never been any real evidence against him. Still, he's
dropped himself right in it this time. Aiding and abetting a fugitive, resisting
arrest, assaulting the Guard…"
"Right," said Hawk. "Once he wakes up, he's going to have some very leading
questions to answer."
"Assuming he hasn't got concussion, and lost his memory."
Hawk groaned. "Don't. It would be just our luck if we had accidentally scrambled
his brains. Come on, let's have a look round the place while we're here. Maybe
we'll get lucky and find a clue or something."
They moved cautiously round Grimm's quarters, being very careful not to touch
anything without checking it out first. Magic-users were often fond of setting
booby traps for the unwary. Hawk's usual method of searching the premises was to
trash the place until it looked like a hurricane had hit it, but this room
already looked as if someone had beaten him to it. Grimm was one of those people
who lived in a permanent mess and liked it that way. His quarters took up the
whole of the first floor—a single long room littered with junk and debris of
every description.
There were racks of chemicals, glass vials and tubing, pewter mugs and mixing
bowls, all scattered over two huge tables. Together with papers and books and
what appeared to be the remains of at least three different meals. Hawk tossed
aside a discarded shirt and grimaced as he discovered a dead cat, dissected into
its component parts and neatly pinned to a display board. Beneath the cat were
detailed instructions on how to put the animal back together again. Either Grimm
had a really nasty sense of humor, or… Hawk decided very firmly that he wasn't
going to think about that.
The bed looked as though Grimm had left it exactly as he'd crawled out of it.
Fisher peered underneath, just in case, but there was nothing there except dust
and a chamber pot. A combination desk and writing table looked more interesting.
She eased the drawers open one by one with the tip of her sword, and smiled as
she came across a thick sheaf of papers. She ran the suppressor stone over the
desk, and then carefully removed the papers, watching all the time in case there
was a mechanical booby trap as well. She leafed quickly through the papers,
scowling as she tried to make out Grimm's scratchy handwriting.
Hawk looked into a recessed alcove, and his breath caught in his throat. A dozen
different faces lined the wall; skins so skillfully taken and mounted they
seemed almost alive. Hawk fought down his disgust and looked them over
carefully. They were all unique, no two even remotely alike. Presumably they
were models for the faces Grimm could give his customers. He'd better get a
Guard sketch artist in to make copies. Fenris might be wearing one of these
faces. He moved closer and studied them thoughtfully. Whatever else you could
say about Grimm, he knew his stuff. The faces were incredibly lifelike. He
reached out a hand to touch one, and then snatched his hand back as the face
opened its eyes and looked at him. A grimace of pain moved slowly across the
flat features, and the mouth stretched in a soundless scream. The other faces
stirred, eyes opening across the wall to fix Hawk with the same unblinking look
of agonized despair. Hawk's stomach lurched as he realized they were all still
alive, pinned up and endlessly suffering.
Whatever happened, Hawk swore he'd see Grimm brought to justice for this, at
least.
"Isobel, get over here, fast."
Fisher ran quickly to join him, sword in hand, and stared numbly at the writhing
faces on the wall. "My God, Hawk. What kind of bastard… We've got to do
something. We can't leave them like this."
"No, we can't. Try the suppressor stone. Maybe it'll cancel out the magic that's
keeping them alive."
Fisher nodded, and ran the stone slowly over the staring faces. One by one the
eyes closed and did not open again. The life went out of the faces, and soon
they were nothing more than empty masks, pinned to a wall. At rest, at last.
Fisher touched a few of them tentatively, but they didn't respond. The skin was
soft, but already cooling. Just to be sure, Hawk had her run the suppressor
stone over the dissected cat as well.
They took turns examining the papers Fisher had found in Grimm's desk. They
seemed to be records of services Grimm had provided in the past, but no names
were ever mentioned, only initials. It was mostly cosmetic sorcery, though some
of the more bizarre requests made Hawk blink. There was no accounting for taste.
But interesting though the documents were, there was nothing in them to tie
Grimm in with the spy Fenris. Or at least, nothing Hawk could recognize. He
threw the papers back onto the desk, and looked frustratedly around him.
"We're not going to find anything here. He's too careful, too meticulous.
Probably keeps the important information locked up in his head."
So let the Guard sorcerers get it out of him," said Fisher. "Let them earn their
money for a change."
There was a low groan from behind them, and they looked quickly round. At the
other end of the room the sorcerer Grimm was rising unsteadily to his feet. He
shook his head once to clear it, and then his gaze fell on Hawk and Fisher and
his face darkened. He smiled slowly, removed his robe and threw it to one side.
Ropes of muscle bulged suddenly across his bare chest and shoulders, pus
hing out
the taut skin. Hawk and Fisher watched transfixed as the sorcerer changed. His
body stretched and swelled, impossible muscles crawling over an inhumanly
magnified frame. His face trembled, the features shifting grotesquely as his
inner rage expressed itself in distorted flesh and bone. His eyes became
featureless black pools, and sharp jagged teeth distorted the shape of his
mouth. Grimm padded slowly forward, his crooked hands growing razored claws.
"I think we may have a problem here," said Hawk, taking a firm hold on his axe.
"You always did have a gift for understatement," said Fisher. "What the hell's
happening to him?"
"From the look of it, I'd say the sorcerer wasn't averse to sampling his own
wares. He's got to the stage where he can shapechange at will."
"You know, this strikes me as a good time to get the hell out of here and yell
for reinforcements."
"We can't. He's between us and the nearest door. We're going to have to stop him
ourselves."
"Oh, great. How?"
"I'm thinking!"
Grimm lurched forward, his jaws snapping shut like a steel trap. There was no
longer anything human in his face. Hawk and Fisher quickly separated, to attack
him from different sides, and each of the sorcerer's eyes crawled to different
positions on his head so that he could watch both Guards at once. Hawk darted in
and cut at Grimm with his axe. The heavy steel head sheared through the
sorcerer's waist and out again, but no blood flew. The wound closed immediately,
the unnatural flesh flowing seamlessly back together again. Fisher cut at Grimm
from the other side, to no better effect. The sorcerer reached for Hawk with a
gnarled, clawed hand. Hawk quickly retreated, but the hand just kept coming
after him as the arm stretched to an impossible length.
"The stone!" yelled Hawk, backing frantically away. "Try the suppressor stone on
him!"
"I've already tried that! It doesn't seem to affect him!"
"Well, keep trying!" Hawk threw himself to one side and the clawing hand dug
deep furrows in the wall behind him. He darted behind the writing desk. Grimm
demolished it with one blow of a spiked arm. Hawk looked quickly round the room,
checking for possible escape routes. Fisher clutched the suppressor stone in her
hand, muttering the activating phrase over and over again. The stone suddenly
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