by Kari Edgren
A child’s wails passed through the paper-thin walls and someone pounded on the floor above us with what sounded like an iron skillet.
“Your screams seem to have woken the other tenants.”
I gave him a confused look. “That wasn’t me.” Those tortured screams had come from the man, low at first, then moving higher...much like a woman. “Good Heavens! His emotions must have passed straight through me.” I swallowed again over the tender skin in my throat.
Henry studied my face. “What happened after you touched him?”
It took a moment for the words to form. “His mind,” I said, struggling to explain. “It’s as though someone split it in two. And the worst part, Henry, is that he knows it, and he knows the bad side is winning. He...he asked me to kill him.”
Henry’s gaze fell to the man. “Is that what you want?” he asked me. “I’d prefer the gallows, but we can end it tonight if you wish.”
A minute ago, I would have answered an unequivocal yes. And that was before the action could be justified by mercy. A simple nod would suffice for Henry to draw the sword at his side and end the man’s suffering. All I had to do was nod.
Unease skittered through me. The man was fighting tooth and nail against an evil that far exceeded anything I had ever felt before. Perhaps it could be blamed on simple madness. Or perhaps there was something more to his torments. “Cate should have a look at him while he’s still alive.”
“I’ll have to tie him up then. Once the stupor wears off there’s no telling what damage he may cause.”
As though in protest, the man groaned and kicked out a leg, catching a toe on the bottle. It rolled the short distance into the shadows. This time I did nod, and fetched a ratty linen shirt from the chest to be cut into strips for bindings.
Only a few hours remained before dawn when we stepped from the room into the muddy lane. Ellen sniffled at my side, running a sleeve under her nose. “I best return to the bakehouse if ye don’t mind, miss. The others is probably up by now and Mr. and Mrs. Larken don’t have no peace of mind whenever one of us has gone unaccounted for.”
“Yes, of course,” I said. “Is there anything else we can do?”
“Just tell her ladyship about Jenny is all. She’ll want to know.”
I shivered from a sudden chill.
Henry’s arm tightened around me. “Let’s get you home—”
A man’s angry voice erupted in the stillness a short distance ahead. Henry tensed, one hand dropping to his sword hilt. More voices joined in, tense and loud until it sounded like a full-scale argument.
Henry passed the lantern to me. “It’s the footmen. They’re under attack.” Metal scraped against leather as he pulled the sword from its scabbard. “Go back inside. I’ll return directly.”
Another chill shook me, more intense than the first. “But Henry—”
His expression turned thunderous. “Do it!”
I flinched in surprise. Without another word, Henry turned and started only to come to an abrupt halt. Raising the sword to shoulder height, he slowly turned in a half-circle from left to right. A low growl drifted through the damp night air, turning my skin to gooseflesh. Experience told me what lurked in the dark a split second before an enormous hound stepped from the deepest shadows, its pale white form just discernible at the very edge of the lantern light.
Three more hounds followed closely behind. Fear ripped through me, and for a moment I stood as though frozen. Then a hound lunged at Henry, turning my fear to violent hatred. The sword glided in a gleaming arc. The beast yelped at the same time a small red blossom appeared in the white fur of its upper foreleg. Another lunged, but Henry moved too quickly with a slice the beast barely escaped.
Snarling, the hounds slunk out of reach. Henry tracked their steps, striking out whenever one attempted to creep around his flank to where Ellen and I stood. Power burned in my fingers, and I almost wished one around so I could put an end to it the same way Cate had done so many times before. Her brief instruction came back with clarity...Keep low and strike fast.
A pistol discharged somewhere in the direction of the carriage. A man’s scream was followed by another shot. Henry jerked his head toward the sound of his men, his sword hand slipping slightly. One of the hounds took advantage and lunged. In a flash, the blade whipped through the air, catching the animal’s side and knocking it into the wooden wall near us.
Ellen cried out and pressed her back against the door. The hound remained motionless, though still alive or its body would have burst into blue flames. Just then, movement caught my eye. Whipping my head to the side, I glimpsed a young girl standing a dozen paces behind Henry in the middle of the lane. Loathing filled me, and I would have recognized the white-blond hair and beggar’s rags even without the benefit of the lantern.
Deri watched Henry and the hounds, her face rapturous. Thinking myself undetected, I studied the disturbingly pale features when her neck slowly swiveled, and our gazes locked.
“So far from home, Biddie girl,” she chirruped in a childish voice. “Did ye like little Deri’s present? Biddie lady got sent away so ye could have it tonight.”
My eyes narrowed. “What present do you mean?”
The girl gave a squeal of laughter that scraped against my spine. “Madness in the head, beat her till she’s dead.”
Her words erupted like thunderclaps in my ears. “Holy mother!” I whispered. “You split that man’s mind apart.” You killed Jenny.
Her pink lips parted in maddening glee, revealing two perfectly formed rows of small white teeth. “Aye, Biddie girl, I muddled his head.” She swept her ragged skirts in a clumsy curtsey.
I made a sudden move toward her, driven by a similar impulse as when a spider comes too near for comfort. Emitting another squeal of laughter, she spun on her heel and skipped into the darkness, snippets of singsong trailing behind her.
“Madness in the head...”
Henry grunted, and I turned just in time to see his sword bite deep into the neck of a hound. Farther down, two men entered the lane, each carrying a lantern and dressed in the Fitzalan livery. They yelled out to Henry, who looked up once the hound hit the ground, its white fur heavily mottled with mud and blood. The other wounded hound had yet to move from where he’d been thrown against the building. The two remaining creatures took no notice of the approaching men as they continued to prowl just out of sword reach.
“Beat her till she’s dead...”
The footmen were now close enough to provide ample light and support for the fight. “Stay here,” I told Ellen.
Gripping the lantern, I lifted my skirts and went after the wretch. The lane twisted and turned like a corkscrew, and I would have soon lost my way if not for her little verse, which she repeated every few seconds.
The lane narrowed even more, and I nearly tripped over a drunken man, who sat propped against a barrel with a bottle resting in the crook of one arm. Regaining my footing, I caught sight of the girl as she disappeared down an alleyway. Her words drifted back to me, the resonance somewhat altered from before.
“Beat her till she’s dead...”
I rounded the corner to discover the cause for the different sound. Two lodgings sat on opposite sides of the alley, their second floors jutting out to create a tunnel of sorts. I darted in without a second thought, determined to stop Deri. My light found the ghostly faces of several ragged young men huddled together in a doorway. They looked like a gang of pickpockets and cutthroats, and any other time I would have been terrified to be so close in the dead of night. The men hardly gave notice as they stared after young Deri, cold fear shining in their eyes.
The alley opened into what appeared to be a large square. Tall wooden buildings bordered the space on all sides with a handful of lanes leading back into the maze from which I had just emerged. Deri had ceased sin
ging the dreadful verses. The soggy patter of her footsteps had also stopped. The tenements were deathly still other than the repetitive drip of rainwater that rolled from the roofs and gutters.
Holding the lantern straight out, I slowed my gait to a cautious pace. A stone well came into view, the foundation circled by tufts of grass and weeds. Thick brown rope trailed down from a rickety windlass to the slated bucket that sat upright on the rough stone ledge. A shadow shifted from behind the well, moved toward me with an eerie lightness of step. The air turned frigid, and my skin prickled with cold.
Deri stopped just out of reach. The threadbare shawl had slipped from one shoulder, and the loose end trailed in the mud behind her. “There yeh be Biddie girl,” she chirruped. “Did yeh like our skip along? Poor Deri had to creep like a tortoise for yeh to keep up.”
Poor Deri was a cold-blooded killer, and at that moment I wanted nothing more than to wrap the shawl around her scrawny neck till the pale skin turned dark as a plum. And I may have regardless of the inevitable burns if the girl weren’t so quick on her feet, and almost sure to escape.
“Can’t recall when I’ve had a pleasanter time,” I said, matching her tone in an attempt to buy more time. “Do you often skip through the rookeries? Or is tonight a special occasion?”
She shrugged and twisted a toe in the mud. “The folks in here is weak from need, and little Deri likes to play with the children.”
“Like you played with Jenny?”
A malignant grin curled on her mouth. “Aye, she be the most fun of all.”
Hatred twisted in my gut. So far as I cared, every last layer of skin could burn from my hands if it meant ridding the world of this devil. Leaning a bit closer, I waited for the opportunity to pounce. “You’ve a powerful gift. Why not go after the healthy and strong? Surely they would offer more sport for someone like you.”
“Oh, I’ve longed to get yeh, Biddie girl, to muddle yehr brain or give yeh the plague.” She made to snatch at me, only to withdraw her hand at the last moment. “But yeh know the rules—yeh get what yeh give between us. Ain’t no sense plucking a hair from yehr pretty head if it means losing one of me own.”
I moved back with a jerk. You get what you give...The meaning struck hard—to stop her heart would have stopped mine. Merciful heavens! A few more seconds and we both would have been dead.
Frustrated by this new barrier, I opted to stall for time. “Why are we here, Deri? You’ve obviously gone to a great deal of effort to get me alone.”
She twisted her toe deeper into the mud. “Mam needs something, and sent me to fetch it.”
“Why not come herself if it’s so important?”
Her face tightened to a pout. “Didn’t say it were important.” One hand remained at chest level, and the fingers moved with nervous agitation. “‘Em hounds want yeh, too, Biddie girl,” she said, almost wistfully. “For all Mam knows, yeh could be dead already. No one can blame little Deri then—”
“What does your mam want from me?” I interrupted.
The lantern light glinted from her pale blue eyes. “King Bres locked her under the trees but she’s ready to come out now, and I’m to bring the key.”
“And you think I have it?” The girl was crazy as a loon. I had no key and King Bres hadn’t locked anyone up since his reign ended over three thousand years ago.
Deri gave a burst of laughter. “Not in yehr pocket. This key—” Henry’s voice came from the alleyway, drawing her gaze over my shoulder. “This key be carried deep in the heart.” She flexed her fingers and gazed at me longingly. “Oh, how I wish to kill yeh. Me fingers itch for it.”
My face turned to stone. “You’ve no idea.”
A chill ran straight to my hairline. The night air turned to ice and I shivered as a low growl passed over me. A hound stepped into the light, and brushed up against the girl’s side. “Maybe I can’t kill yeh, Biddie girl,” she said, gently stroking the sleek white fur. “But he can. And he shan’t tell Mam I’ve been naughty.” She patted the hound’s head one last time before turning to skip away, accompanied by the lines of a new verse. “Little Biddie girl, no bigger than a squirrel. He tore her apart, and ate out her heart...”
The hound lifted its muzzle and sniffed the air. I dropped to a crouch to keep him from lunging, and waited for the first opportunity to strike. Footsteps pounded across the muddy ground behind me. The hound moved closer, a low growl vibrating in its throat. Teeth snapped in hungry anticipation, and a puff of foul breath froze my cheeks. We were almost nose-to-nose when I slammed a hand into the white fur, sending an inferno straight to its heart.
A sword flashed overhead just as the beast dropped to the ground. The metal blade sliced the air in front of my face, coming to a sudden stop mere inches from the thick white neck. I looked up to find Henry towering above me, breath ragged and a warrior’s lust blazing in his eyes.
With grim satisfaction, I nudged the blade away. “This one was mine.”
A flood of emotion crossed his face. Surprise...anger...fear...pride...Sheathing the sword, he pulled me to my feet, and together we watched the hound vanish beneath a blanket of blue flames.
Chapter Eighteen
Madness and Mayhem
Cate didn’t return home until late afternoon. She came directly into the drawing room looking tired and more worried than I had seen her since arriving in London almost two weeks before. Tom had accompanied her to the rookery, and the stress showed equally on his face. Cate sank into the corner of the sofa opposite Henry and me and stared into the fire.
“Did you find him?” Henry asked, jumping straight to the point. His arm rested protectively along the back of the sofa behind me. I leaned into his side, my hand on his knee, and a raging curiosity that begged for answers.
Tom sighed and sat beside Cate. “We found him all right, for all the good it did.”
My expectations fizzled, though what expectations I couldn’t rightly say. Had I hoped Deri incapable of besting Cate’s abilities? Or, that once healed, the man would simply walk away from Jenny’s murder? The child had died at his hands, and culpable or not, they were stained with her blood so far as the crown was concerned.
“Sorry for the wild goose chase,” I said. “Deri’s power must be stronger than any of us suspected. I couldn’t even touch the man without being pulled into the private hell she had created.”
Cate looked at me for the first time since entering the room. “I did heal him. The man was perfectly restored before Tom and I left his lodging.”
I frowned in confusion. “But Tom said it didn’t do any good.”
Henry ducked his head down to press a kiss into my hair. “I presume he spoke of the inevitable death sentence for murder.”
“Too late for that now,” Tom said. “Once his mind was set to right, Cate and I went to speak with some of the other tenants about Cailleach’s wretch and what they may have seen last night.” He gave a derisive snort. “Damn pack of fools. Not a one would own up to ever seeing the girl or even being awake during Henry’s encounter with the hounds, as though just acknowledging their presence would bring bad luck. We had given up on getting any information from a woman who lived across the lane when the next thing we know, the man’s thrown himself out of an upper story window, tied to a short rope.” The blacksmith snapped his fingers, making me jump. “The fall nearly ripped his head clear off.”
“Good gracious!” I cried. “Why would he do that?”
Cate didn’t hesitate to explain. “Because the poor man couldn’t bear to live a moment longer after what happened to his niece.” Bitterness underscored her otherwise calm voice. “Deri may have split his mind in two, but she did nothing to suppress the memories or the subsequent guilt. Under the circumstances, no one can fault him for acting so rashly. I, on the other hand, carry the lion’s share of blame.”
“H
e murdered a child,” Henry reminded her. “Like it or not, he was a dead man before you stepped foot in the room.”
Cate released an exasperated breath. “His hanging today isn’t what troubles me. It’s that I could have saved them both months ago if I’d only bothered to look inside his head just once during the many visits I made to Jenny. But it never occurred to me that a man who by all accounts had been a loving uncle could have been turned mad by a twelve year old girl.” She sniffed in an unusual display of emotion. “You would think that after 1500 years, I’d have learned enough to not be so easily fooled. Instead, I allowed myself to be blinded by hatred and refused even an ounce of compassion to the one who needed it the most.” Her voice broke on the last words, and she clamped her mouth tight to keep from crying.
Tom took her hand in his and pressed it gently. “You can’t blame yourself, Caitria. Cailleach’s descendants don’t have the power to cause that sort of madness. The girl must be carrying more than the old hag’s blood.” He looked at me. “Did she give any hints of her parentage?”
“All stuff and nonsense,” I snorted. “She’s under the delusion that King Bres has locked her mother away beneath the trees, and that she has been sent to fetch the key from me.” I gave a small laugh. “That girl’s completely insane. You should have heard how she referred to herself with ‘little Deri’ this and ‘poor Deri’ that. Whatever madness she caused must have leaked from her own brain.” I started to laugh again, when I saw the look exchanged between Cate and Tom.
Henry stirred beside me. “Is there another Bres besides your first sire?”
“Not to my knowledge,” I said nervously. Only one Irish king had gone by that name, and he had married Brigid more than three thousand years ago.
Cate and Tom continued to look at each other. “It doesn’t make any sense,” Cate said at last. “That story is just a myth.”
Tom let out a slow breath. “According to most folks the Tuatha Dé never existed, which would make us myths as well. Could be there’s some truth in it after all.”