“A lot’s changed in the Forest Church since you’ve been gone,” said Chance. “It’s a lot more organized and influential than it used to be. The long night put the fear of God into a lot of people.”
“We saw heaven once,” said Fisher, pulling on a pair of scruffy boots that looked to Chance entirely identical to the ones she’d just taken off. “Or at least, something very like it.”
“You mean you died?” asked Chance, uncertainly.
“Yes,” said Hawk. “But we got over it.”
Chance decided he wasn’t going to ask. He didn’t think he wanted to know. He looked around to see what mischief Chappie was getting into. The dog was ambling happily around, sniffing at everything and sticking his nose into every dark corner he could find. He found something on the floor, gobbled it up, and then spat it out at speed. He realized Chance was watching him, and grinned widely.
“Interesting place you’ve brought me to, Chance. I’ve known stables where all the horses suffered from bloat and wind that smelled more fragrant than this dump. And you’ve got mice here. I’ve found some droppings, if anyone’s interested. And a whole pile of clothes absolutely begging to be hauled off to the laundry. Don’t you people ever clean up in here?”
“We’re between maids at the moment,” said Hawk. “Ah, I wondered where I’d put this.”
He was holding up what appeared to be a small doll made out of twisted raffia, decorated with slender colored ribbons, each studded with tight little knots.
“What is it?” Chance asked politely.
“Well, it started out life as a dream-catcher, but I had a sorcerer acquaintance of ours boost its power. I won’t tell you exactly how, but the goat was never the same afterward. Now this little mannikin functions as a general protective ward against all kinds of offensive magic. It won’t last long once it’s been activated, but while it’s awake, nothing short of a major summoning will be able to get to us.”
“You think we’re going to need that kind of protection?” asked Chance.
“This is Haven,” said Fisher. “And we’re going to be stirring up one hell of a lot of trouble before we leave.” She looked reflectively at the mannikin in Hawk’s hand. “I remember when we got that. The case of the Collector of Souls and the Dread Mandalas.”
“Yeah,” said Hawk. “That was a bad one.”
Hawk and Fisher looked at each other for a moment, and then went back to rooting through their piles of possessions. Chance went back to looking about him. Half of one wall was taken up with a bookcase, mostly crammed with cheap Gothic romances. Chance pulled out a couple at random, and nodded to see the familiar garish covers of tousled gypsy lasses half falling out of their blouses, while in the background was the usual brooding mansion with one lighted window. There were times when Chance felt very strongly that the invention of the printing press had a lot to answer for. When he was at school in the north, reading wasn’t something just anybody did. He put the books back, and Hawk caught the movement.
“I know,” he said unapologetically. “But they’re cheap and cheerful, and when you limp home in the early hours at the end of a double shift, you need something not too demanding to unwind to. I like the spooky stuff; Isobel mostly goes for the romantic elements.”
“We do have other books,” Fisher pointed out huffily, but couldn’t seem to come up with any other titles on the spur of the moment.
Chance went back to wandering around the long room, stepping carefully over the empty wine bottles and an occasional discarded sock, to look at a jigsaw of impressive size, almost finished on a wide wooden board. It was a forest scene, with tall trees and bursting green foliage. Chance didn’t feel any need to comment. Everyone deals with homesickness in their own way.
“We would have finished that,” said Fisher, trying to force something large and woolly and recalcitrant into a backpack. “But Hawk’s only good at doing the borders. And he lost the last few pieces.”
“I did not lose them!” Hawk said hotly. “I don’t think they were in the box in the first place. And I can do more than borders. I just don’t have the time, mostly.”
“You’re still upset because we didn’t get the mountain scene you wanted.”
“I didn’t want it,” said Hawk, in that extremely patient tone that drives women mad. “I just said it had more colors, and would have been more challenging.”
Hawk and Fisher came together in the middle of the room, and looked quietly about them. They were both carrying bulging backpacks, crammed full of essentials. The mannikin peered out of the top of Hawk’s pack like a watchful sentinel. Chappie came and sat beside Chance, chewing happily on something he’d found. Chance knew better than to inquire what.
“We really should get going,” said Hawk.
“Yes,” agreed Fisher. But neither of them moved.
“Not a lot to show for ten years,” said Hawk. “But then, I think I always knew we were just passing through.”
“You know we can’t take much,” said Fisher. “It would only slow us down.”
“Yes, I know. But I shall miss this place. Hard to think we’ll never see it again, once we close the door behind us.”
“Do us good,” Fisher said briskly. “We were getting into a rut here anyway.”
“Part of me doesn’t want to leave,” said Hawk. “We were comfortable here. Safe. Safe from having to be heroes and legends.”
“We don’t have to go …” Fisher said slowly.
“Yes, we do,” said Hawk. “Vacation’s over.”
They left the apartment securely locked behind them, because to do otherwise would only call attention to their leaving, and tied their packs to the horses Hawk had requisitioned from a nearby stable. Hawk sent Chance and Chappie back to their hostelry to pick up his horse and belongings, while he and Fisher went to make their goodbyes at Guard Headquarters. They studied the streets along their way with more than usual interest, the knowledge that they’d never be seeing them again allowing Hawk and Fisher to see them with fresh eyes. After so many years in Haven, they’d become inured to far too many sights and sounds, and all the many familiar evils.
It was time for one last crusade in Haven, one last chance for justice, retribution, and the casting down of the guilty. And to hell with what the law had to say about it.
Guard Headquarters was busy as always, with any number of colorful people bustling in and out. No one paid Hawk and Fisher any unusual attention as they tied up their horses outside, tipped a Constable to keep a watch on them (because otherwise they’d have come out to find nothing left but their horseshoes), and then moved purposefully through Headquarters toward the main Stores. The Storemaster objected loudly to their unannounced visit, and demanded to see the necessary paperwork. Hawk gave him a hard look, Fisher let her hand rest on her sword’s hilt, and the Storemaster decided he was needed urgently elsewhere. He left at not quite a run, and all the clerks at their desks became very interested in their work as Hawk and Fisher strolled casually through the Stores, helping themselves to whatever they liked the look of.
There was a lot to choose from. Guard scientists were always coming up with new ideas, to help the poor souls on the beat survive another day on the mean streets of Haven. Hawk and Fisher loaded up with concussion grenades, incendiary devices, and as many throwing knives as they could carry. Hawk was particularly taken with the chaos bombs. They were new, very much untried and untested in the field, and as expensive as prototypes always are, but they were rumored to be quite amazingly destructive, and that was enough for Hawk. He stuffed all six of them into his belt pouch, and looked hopefully around for more goodies. Fisher had to smile. Hawk always loved the latest toys. Even so, they quickly decided to pass on the other latest development, drug bombs filled with black poppy dust. The one and only time the things had been used in the field, the bomb saturated the whole room with poppy dust, and criminals and Guards alike had just sat around holding hands and giggling a lot until the effects wore off.
“How about the new handcuffs?” asked Hawk. “They’re supposed to be guaranteed escape-proof.”
“I don’t think so,” said Fisher. “First, I wasn’t planning on arresting anybody, and second, the last time those things were used, they ended up having to cut the poor bugger out of them. I think we’ve got enough toys, Hawk. Let’s go and hit the Files room before word gets out.”
Hawk nodded reluctantly, and they strode briskly out of the Stores and down the main corridor. People took one look at their determined faces, and hurried to get out of their way. The Files room was currently enjoying one of its more accessible periods, thanks to a poltergeist that had moved in recently. The unseen ghost had a thing about order, and everything being in its place. It wasn’t an especially logical or useful order, but the general feeling was that some was better than none, and everything possible was being done to make the poltergeist feel at home. However, the bureaucrat in charge, one Otto Griffith, a long bony specimen with a face like a slapped behind, still saw the Files as being his personal territory, and defended them with all the spleen at his command.
“You don’t have a chit, do you?” he demanded immediately as Hawk and Fisher walked in. “You never bother with the correct procedures and paperwork. Well, this time I’ve got the Commander on my side. He said I don’t have to let you have anything, unless you can show me the correct necessary acquisition forms. In triplicate.”
“We don’t have time for this,” said Hawk. “And I really don’t give a chit.”
He nodded to Fisher, and they each took hold of the piled-up In and Out trays, and tossed their contents high into the air. Papers flew like escaping birds, flying in all directions, and only reluctantly fluttering back to the floor across the widest possible area. Otto Griffith’s face went several interesting colors in turn, and he looked like he was about to burst into tears.
“You’re barbarians! Uncivilized Northern barbarians!” He scrambled out from behind his desk and began snatching up the scattered papers, clutching them to his chest like injured loved ones. Hawk and Fisher left him to it, and headed purposefully toward the rows of great oaken filing cabinets. Digging out information on their chosen targets went remarkably quickly, and soon they had all the necessary information on where their targets could currently be found, and details of their defenses. They waved Otto a cheery good-bye as they left the Files room, and he responded with a detailed and quite appalling curse that someone of his background and standing shouldn’t have known.
Outside the Files room Hawk and Fisher came to a sudden halt. Their way was blocked by a dozen armed Guards, their weapons already in their hands. There was a long tense moment as both sides considered each other carefully, weighing the situation, and then one of the Guard Constables explained, very politely and only a little uneasily, that the Day Commander would very much like a word with Captains Hawk and Fisher. In his office, right now. If it wasn’t too much trouble.
“And if it is?” said Fisher.
“He wants to see you anyway,” said the Guard Constable. There was a sheen of sweat on his upper lip, but the sword in his hand was steady. “We’re to escort you there, and see you don’t get lost along the way.”
“How considerate of the Commander,” murmured Hawk.
He and Fisher glanced at each other. They could probably take a dozen Guards, but they didn’t want to. The Constables were just doing their job. So Hawk and Fisher nodded calmly, took their hands away from their weapons, and said they’d be delighted to accompany the Guards to the Day Commander’s office. The dozen Constables immediately looked extremely relieved, and escorted their charges down the main corridor. None of them put away their swords, though.
The first real surprise came when Hawk and Fisher were very politely ushered into the Commander’s office, and found not only the Day Commander but also the Night Commander as well waiting to see them. Given how much the two men detested each other, and how jealously each man defended his own territory, it was almost unthinkable to find them both in the same office at the same time. They were standing behind the desk, apparently because there was only the one chair, and neither was willing to let the other sit in his presence. Neither of them looked at all pleased to see Hawk and Fisher. They both nodded pretty much in unison to the accompanying Constables, who backed out of the room with almost indecent haste, and shut the door behind them.
Commander Dubois currently ran the night shift. Short and stocky and as bald as an egg, he’d been a Commander for over twenty years, and it hadn’t improved his disposition one bit. He’d been quite a thief-taker in his time, but these days he needed a stick just to get around. Some years back half a dozen thugs had taken it in turns to stamp on his legs till they broke. He was a harsh, intolerant man whose only saving grace was that he hated crime and criminals with a fine passion, and so was very good at his job. He glared at Hawk and Fisher from behind the desk, and Hawk and Fisher nodded respectfully in return.
Looming over Commander Dubois was the tall blocky figure of the Day Commander. Glen had just hit fifty, and resented it fiercely. He had a permanent scowl, a down-turned mouth, and a military-style haircut that looked like it had been shaped around a pudding bowl. He’d been an Army officer before he came to the Guard, and never let anyone forget it. Hawk and Fisher gave him a sloppy salute, because they knew how much that irritated him.
Still, seeing Dubois and Glen together made it clear to Hawk that somehow news of their intentions had already gone around. Nothing else would get these two men together in one room. Hawk supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised. No one can hope to keep a secret long in a city like Haven, where information is often a life and death matter, not to mention money in the pocket. Now it just remained to see how much the two Commanders knew, or thought they knew, about Hawk and Fisher’s plans for a final vengeance. And then Dubois spoke, and all Hawk’s planned evasions went out the window.
“So, you’re leaving Haven,” said the Night Commander heavily. “It hadn’t occurred to you to come and tell us this? That there might be urgent arrangements we’d have to make, like finding replacements to cover your beat? Much as I am loath to admit it, you are two of the most successful Guards in this city, and your leaving will make one hell of a difference.”
Hawk regrouped quickly. “We thought we’d let our departure come as a nice surprise,” he said smoothly. “Just think of the good it’ll do your ulcers, not having us around to apologize for.”
“You can’t go,” said Commander Glen flatly. “You’re needed here.”
“No, we’re not,” said Fisher, just as flatly. “It’s people like you who’ve kept us from making any real changes in this damned city. You’ve always been more concerned with the letter of the law than with the spirit of justice.”
“It’s not your business to decide what is and isn’t just!” snapped Glen. “The whole point of the law is that no one person gets to decide what’s right and wrong. That’s why we have a Council instead of a King.”
“The law is supposed to give people a chance for justice,” said Hawk. “But when the law is corrupt, drafted by the rich and influential to protect the interests of the rich and influential, when it can’t or won’t protect the people from those who would prey on them, that’s when you need people like us. We’re not infallible, but we’re better than the alternative.”
“We know,” said Dubois, surprising both Hawk and Fisher. “That’s why you can’t leave. We need people who can be … flexible, in the cause of justice. Guards the people can respect. You’ve both done a good job, in your way. Which is why we’ll have a hell of a time replacing you.”
“We never quit,” said Glen, standing almost rigidly at attention. “We never turned away from the job, no matter how hard it got. They crippled Dubois, and he still wouldn’t give in to the bastards who think they run this city.”
“But what have you really achieved here?” asked Fisher, almost tiredly. “You’ve given your lives trying to get t
his city to act civilized, and it’s as big a cesspit now as it’s always been.”
“If it’s a case of more money—” said Dubois.
“It’s not,” said Hawk shortly.
“Then how about a promotion,” said Glen, taking Hawk and Fisher by surprise again. “We never meant for you two to be Captains all your lives. Dubois and I always thought that one day you two would be ready to take over our jobs, and then we could retire at last. I might have given my life to the job, but I don’t want to die behind this desk. If you leave, where the hell are we going to find two more honest Guards in Haven?”
“It has to be you,” said Dubois. “There’s no one else we can trust.”
Hawk shook his head slowly. “We’re needed more, elsewhere. Somewhere we can make a real difference. We can’t stay.”
“All right,” said Glen. “What could we offer you to make you stay?”
“Not a damned thing,” said Fisher. “We don’t intend to die here, either. And like Hawk said, we’re needed more somewhere else. So we’re leaving.”
“And just what were you planning on doing before you left?” asked Dubois. “We’ve heard about your little visits to Files and Stores. Poor Otto was almost in hysterics. We’ve had to send for his mother. According to him, you’ve seized confidential information on practically every main villain in Haven. And you’ve loaded up with enough weapons to start your own war. If you’re intending to take the law into your own hands, and pay off some old grudges before you go, you must know we’ll have to stop you, by whatever means necessary.”
Hawk smiled. “You can try.”
“Right,” said Fisher.
The tension in the small room mounted as Hawk and Fisher and the two Commanders glared at each other, equally determined and unflinching, and there was no telling who might have said or done what, when the door suddenly burst open, and the sorceress Mistique came rushing in, more than a little out of breath. Hawk and Fisher both stared immediately at the long thick mane of black hair they now knew to be only a wig, and then they quickly looked away again, not wanting to be caught staring. The sorceress nodded briskly to the two Commanders, either not noticing or politely ignoring the atmosphere in the room.
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