lamp on the wall, and without hesitating snatched it from its niche and threw it
at Marc with all her strength. She just had time for a brief fantasy of his
being consumed by blazing oil, and then Marc's hand shot up and snatched the
lamp effortlessly out of midair. He put it gently down on a nearby chair, and
smiled condescendingly.
"Your problem, Holly, is that you keep thinking I'm human. And I'm not. Not
really. Why don't I show you what I look like? What I really look like. Would
you like that?"
Holly tried to say something, but her throat had clamped shut, and she couldn't
make a sound. She'd somehow ended up by the desk, and her desperate gaze fell
upon a slim silver letter opener. She looked quickly away again in case Marc had
noticed, but his gaze seemed fixed on her. For the first time, he'd stopped
smiling. Something stirred in her mind, like suddenly becoming aware of a
background noise that had just stopped. Marc seemed to ripple and flow, like
something far away seen through a heat haze, and then Marc was gone and the
freak stood before her.
Her first thought was That's not so bad. She'd been expecting something hideous,
some awful misshapen thing, with fangs and claws and bulging eyes, but instead
he looked surprisingly ordinary. He was average height but very thin and bony,
wrapped in clothes that were too big for him. Marc's clothes. Holly supposed
that wearing them made the illusion easier to maintain. Or perhaps it just made
the freak feel more like an ordinary man. His left arm and leg were severely
twisted, and his left shoulder was clearly lower than the other, but none of it
was enough to mark him as a freak. And then she looked at his face, and didn't
know whether to laugh or scream. It was a normal enough face, surrounded by long
greasy hair and a stringy beard, and flecked with blood from a recent scalp
wound, but sometime in the past, the mouth had been sewn together. The heavy
black stitches had sunk deep into the lips, compressing them into a thin white
line. Holly wondered who'd done it; presumably the father, before walling the
freak up in his cell. And why not? she thought crazily. He doesn't need a mouth,
after all.
"How do you speak?" she said shrilly.
The mouth twitched in something that might have been meant as a smile. "It's all
part of the illusion, my dear. You hear what I want you to hear. But this has
gone on long enough, I think. It's time."
He started towards her, his laughter sounding in her mind. She snatched up the
letter opener from the desk and thrust it between his ribs. He grunted once, a
dark hungry sound like a pig at its trough, and grabbed both her arms, ignoring
the blood coursing down his side. Holly tried to struggle, but all the strength
went out of her at his touch. She couldn't even scream as the freak's thin white
mouth slowly widened into a grin, the heavy stitches tearing through his lips.
And then a section of the library wall swung open, and Hawk and Fisher plunged
out into the room. The freak spun round, throwing Holly to one side. Hawk
hesitated just long enough to take in the situation, and then cut at the freak
with his sword. The freak raised his arm at the last moment, and the blade cut
into his arm instead of his throat. Hawk danced back out of range as the freak
reached for him, blood dripping unheeded from his arm. Fisher circled round to
try and get behind him. Holly struggled to get to her feet. Hawk stepped in to
cut at the freak again, and fell to his knees as every muscle in his body turned
to mush. He shook his head sickly, managing somehow to still hang on to his
sword, though he no longer had the strength to lift it. The freak reached down
and took Hawk's face in his hand. The fingers tightened, and Hawk's cheekbones
shifted and creaked under the rising pressure. Fisher snatched a burning brand
from the fire and thrust it at the freak's back. The strength went out of her
fingers as she came within range, and the burning brand fell from her grasp onto
the rug before the fireplace. Flames leapt up as the rug caught fire.
Holly threw herself at the freak, the sudden weight catching him by surprise and
knocking him away from Hawk. The freak landed on his back on the burning rug,
and flames leapt up around him as his clothes caught fire. He surged to his feet
again, throwing Holly to one side, and lurched back and forth, beating
ineffectually at his burning clothes with his hands. There was a silent puff of
blue flames as his hair ignited. Hawk and Fisher had got some of their strength
back, and were on their feet again. Hawk still had his sword, and Fisher
snatched up a heavy footstool to use as a club. Holly rose to her feet, ignoring
her smouldering clothes, and looked around for something to use as a weapon. The
freak turned his back on them and made for the door. He tore apart the
barricade, throwing aside the bulky furniture with inhuman strength, and pulled
open the door. He staggered out into the corridor, and Hawk and Fisher went
after him.
The flames were leaping high now, and his skin was beginning to blacken, but
still he never made a sound. He glanced back at his pursuers, made for the
stairs, and then stopped as he looked up and saw Jamie leading his party down
the stairs towards him. The freak looked back and forth, his mutilated mouth
twisted in a snarl, and then his power leapt out, driven beyond its usual limits
by hate and desperation. One by one those on the stairs slumped to the ground,
their eyes slowly closing as the last bit of strength drained from them, until
only Alistair remained on his feet. He advanced slowly down the stairs, his face
eerily lit by the flames that still leapt around the freak.
"It's no use, boy," he said softly, so that only the freak would hear. "Your
power can't affect me. I'm no more human than you are."
They stood face to face for a moment, staring at each other, and then Alistair's
sword shot out and buried itself in the freak's chest. He collapsed silently to
the floor, twitched a few times and lay still, curled around his death wound.
The leaping flames tugged at his clothes, but did not stir him. Alistair pulled
out the sword, and then carefully and methodically cut off the freak's head,
just in case. One by one, the others rose unsteadily to their feet as strength
flowed slowly back into them. Alistair sheathed his sword, and went over to
Hawk.
"It seems I owe you an apology. I was so sure you were the freak. But then, I'm
only human."
Back in the library, the room became a bedlam as everyone talked at once,
explaining and apologizing and generally relaxing. Holly fussed around Arthur,
wrapping his broken hand in a cloth and trying to clean the blood from his face
with a handkerchief soaked in wine. David kept squeezing Arthur's shoulder, and
telling him incoherently how well he'd done. But finally Jamie confronted Hawk,
and everyone else shut up so they could listen.
"I think you owe us some answers," said Jamie. "All right, we were wrong about
you being the freak. I'm sorry, but you have been behaving very suspiciously.
Who are you, really, and what a
re you doing here? And what the hell happened to
your eye?"
"I can't tell you who I am," said Hawk flatly. "But I can tell you why I'm here.
Isobel and I came here looking for someone."
"Who?"
Hawk turned and looked at David. "Do you want to tell them, or shall I?"
David shrugged, and met the MacNeil's gaze unflinchingly. "Sorry, Jamie, but I'm
afraid I've rather let the side down. I'm a spy. I stumbled across a piece of
information I knew Outremer would pay a hell of a lot for, and the temptation
was just too great. I needed the money, you see. I owe a hell of a lot, what
with one thing and another, much more than you ever knew about, and some of my
creditors were becoming very insistent. There was even talk of debtors' prison.
My Family had already made it clear they wouldn't be responsible for my debts
anymore, and without their backing the moneylenders wouldn't even see me.
"It wasn't difficult, making contact with Outremer. You'd be surprised how many
agents they have here in the city. But in the end it all went wrong, and I ended
up running for my life. So I came here, to hide out while I waited for my
contact to show up. I had to come anyway, to see what Holly was going to get
from the will. I was banking on her inheriting a fortune, to get me out of the
hole I'd dug for myself. She'd have loaned me what I needed. Hell, you'd have
given it to me outright, wouldn't you, Holly? You never could deny me anything."
"Why the hell didn't you ask me for the money?" said Jamie hotly. "I wouldn't
have let you go under, for the sake of a miserable few thousand ducats."
"I couldn't ask you, or any of my friends," said David. "I didn't want you to
know what a fool I'd made of myself. I have my pride. It's all I've got left
now. I won't give it up. I won't stand trial, either. Arthur, look after Holly."
He turned and ran out the door, and into the corridor. Hawk and Fisher went
after him. Hawk paused at the door to order everyone else to stay put in the
library, and then he and Fisher charged down the corridor and up the stairs in
pursuit of David Brook. They were both tired after their struggle with the
freak, and David soon outdistanced them. They pressed on, following the sound of
his feet on the stairs. They passed the second floor and the third, and still
David led them on.
"Where the hell does he think he's going?" panted Fisher. "There's nowhere left
now but the battlements, and once he's there, we've got him cornered."
"Not necessarily," said Hawk. "There's still one way down, if he wants to take
it."
They finally burst out into the morning air, and found David sitting on the edge
of the far parapet wall, waiting for them. Fisher started forward, but Hawk put
a restraining hand on her arm. The sunlight was almost painfully bright after
the gloom of the third floor, and Hawk stood quietly a moment, letting his eye
adjust. David sat patiently, his legs dangling over the long drop. He was
smiling slightly.
"Come away from the edge," said Hawk finally. "It's dangerous."
"Look at the view," said David. "Isn't it marvelous? It feels like you can see
forever."
"Is that why you dragged us all the way up here?" said Fisher. "To admire the
view?"
David shrugged, and smiled. "I won't ask you how I gave myself away. It doesn't
matter. I was pretty much an amateur at the spying game, anyway. But I would
like to know who you really are."
"Hawk and Fisher, Captains in the city Guard," said Hawk. "We're the ones who
chased you through half of Haven last night."
David raised an eyebrow. "I'm impressed. I've heard some of the stories they
tell about you two. Are they true?"
"Some of them," said Hawk.
"What did you do with the sorcerer Grimm?"
"We killed him," said Fisher.
"Good," said David. "The city probably smells better now he's gone. I wouldn't
have dealt with him at all if my contact hadn't insisted."
"Who was your contact?" said Hawk.
David shrugged. "It was always someone different. They didn't trust me enough to
let me see anyone important."
"What about the information?" said Fisher. "What was so important that so many
people had to risk their lives because of it?"
David stared out across the sea. "The Monarch of Outremer is coming here, to
Haven, to meet with our King and hammer out a Peace Treaty to put an end to the
border clashes, before they start really getting out of hand. But there are
those on both sides who would profit greatly from a war, people who don't want
the peace talks to succeed. Knowing the exact date and time and place of those
talks was therefore of very great value to those with an interest in sabotaging
them. And I knew. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time,
and nosy enough to look at a sheet of paper left lying carelessly on a desk. And
that's how it all started. As simply as that."
"Come away from the edge," said Hawk. "You might fall."
"I'm not going back," said David. "If I were put on trial, it would disgrace my
Family's name. I can't do that. I've been enough of a disappointment to them as
it is. Besides, my friends would be found guilty by association, just for
knowing me. And Holly would be hounded, ostracized, because she was close to me.
I can't have that. I think Holly could be happy with Arthur. Don't you?"
"Yes," said Hawk. "He cares for her."
"Good," said David, and pushed himself out and away from the wall. He didn't
scream, all the way down to the rocks at the bottom of the cliffs.
Chapter Eight
Saying Goodbye
The wards finally went down at ten o'clock the next morning. A subtle vibration
came and went on the air, and the solid weight of Tower MacNeil seemed to settle
itself more comfortably, and as suddenly and simply as that, it was over. Hawk
ceremoniously opened the front door, and he and Fisher stepped out into the
brisk morning air. It was a fine sunny morning, with only the cold nip of the
wind to remind them of how close winter was. Gulls rode the wind on outstretched
wings, crying and keening, and from far below came the endless crash of waves on
the rocks.
Only Jamie and Robbie Brennan were there to say goodbye, and Hawk and Fisher
were just as happy that way. It had been an uncomfortable time for all of them,
waiting for the wards to go down. Hawk and Fisher might have saved the day, but
their very presence was a reminder of things the MacNeils were eager to forget.
The four of them stood together a moment, two within the Tower and two without,
none of them sure what to say for the best. In the end, Jamie coughed awkwardly,
and they all looked at him expectantly.
"You've done my Family a great service," he said firmly. "The freak is finally
at rest, and the MacNeils are free of their Curse, if not their Shame. I wish
you'd let me reward you in some way. Just saying thanks doesn't seem nearly
enough."
"Thanks are all we want," said Hawk. "We're just grateful you haven't insisted
on knowing who we really are."
"I have a strong feeling I should," said Jamie, trying not to stare at Hawk's
closed right eye, "But I'm equally sure I wouldn't like the answer. You'd
probably only lie, anyway."
Hawk and Fisher grinned, and said nothing.
"I'm afraid we're all the send-off you're going to get," said Brennan. "The
others have all managed to be very busy just at the moment. Holly and Lord
Arthur are comforting each other, as best they can. For the moment they both
miss David too much to think of anything else, but I wouldn't be surprised if
they ended up staying together. I think they'd be good for each other. Who
knows? Maybe she'll even stop him drinking."
Hawk smiled. "It's possible, I suppose. Stranger things have happened."
"Aunt Katrina is upstairs packing," said Jamie. "I told her she was still
welcome to stay as long as she wished, but it would appear she can't wait to
leave. She says she doesn't feel safe here anymore. I can understand that. I've
lived all my life in the Tower, and I don't feel the same about it now. It's as
though an old and trusted friend had suddenly revealed a dark and violent side
to his nature, something you'd never even suspected before. I'll probably get
over it, but I don't think I'll ever really trust the Tower again."
"Where's she going?" said Hawk.
Jamie shrugged. "Back to the city. I don't think she herself knows where she's
going yet."
"Maybe she'll go back to her husband," said Fisher.
"I hope not," said Brennan. "For his sake. I wouldn't wish Katrina on my worst
enemy. At least not unless I was in a really nasty mood."
"What about Alistair?" said Hawk. "He spent most of yesterday evening trying to
avoid us."
"He's around somewhere," said Jamie. "Hiding his face. I think he still feels
guilty about accusing you of being the freak. No doubt he'll turn up again, once
you're safely gone."
There was another pause as they ran out of polite, unimportant things to say.
"I'm sorry about David," said Hawk finally. "He wasn't a bad sort. We would have
taken him alive, if we could."
"I know that," said Jamie. "I've no doubt it happened just the way you
described. David was many things, but he was never a coward. He knew there was
only one thing he could do to protect his Family, and he did it. I don't know
what I'm going to tell them. Some of the truth is bound to come out, eventually.
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