"Twenty-seven dead, fourteen wounded. Luckily none of the guests got hurt." He looked at Roxanne. "So, this is your mysterious girlfriend."
"Yes," said Medley. "Isn't she splendid?"
Adamant's mouth quirked. "I suppose that's one way of describing her. The last time I saw her, she was cutting down my people and showing them no quarter."
Roxanne met his gaze calmly. "That's my job. I'm good at it."
"You killed Bearclaw and Kincaid. They were good men."
"They would have killed me, given the chance. That's how they play politics in this city. You know that."
"Yes," said Adamant. "Murder and betrayal have always been popular in Haven."
"For what it's worth, Stefan didn't betray you. Pumping him for information was part of my job, and he was so besotted with me he never even noticed. He told me all kinds of useful things without realizing, and I passed them on to Hardcastle."
"Does he know you're here?" said Dannielle.
"No. I don't work for him anymore."
"Why not?"
"He broke our contract."
Danielle looked from Roxanne to Medley and back again. "Is that the only reason? What about you and Stefan?"
Roxanne shrugged. "I don't know. We're just taking things one day at a time and seeing what happens."
Adamant leaned forward and fixed Medley with his gaze. "What are you doing here, Stefan? What do you want from me? Forgiveness? Your old job back?"
"Damned if I know," said Medley. "I'm sorry you were hurt, and I'm sorry people died, but I never meant for any of that to happen. I loved Roxanne, and nothing else seemed to matter."
"How do you feel about her now?" said Dannielle. "Knowing what she is. What's she's done. Do you forgive her?"
"Of course," said Medley. "I love her, in spite of everything. Can't you understand that?"
Adamant looked at Dannielle, and put out a hand to hold hers. "Yes," he said finally. "I understand."
Hawk and Fisher prowled restlessly through the empty house. The rooms felt strange and deserted, and the quiet had a texture of its own. They went from room to room, but there was no sign of any life. Adamant's people were either dead or evacuated, and the guests had long gone home. Nothing remained to mark Longarm's assault save for a few patches of dried blood here and there, and the contents of the downstairs library.
Hawk found them, quite by accident. He pushed open the library door on his way back down the hall, and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the bodies. There were twenty-seven of them altogether. Hawk counted them twice, to make sure. All of Adamant's men who'd died at the hands of the militants. They'd been stacked together like bundles of kindling, face to face, arms and legs neatly arranged. Hawk felt strangely angry at the sight. These men had died for Adamant; they deserved a more dignified rest than this.
They'll get one, said Mortice's voice in his head. But things have been rather rushed here of late. I did the best I could.
Hawk looked at Fisher, and saw that she heard it too. "So you're still here, sorcerer."
Of course. Where else would I be?
"What happened to the bodies of the people who did this? Longarm and his militants?"
I disposed of them.
Hawk decided not to press the question any further. He didn't think he really wanted to know.
Get back to Adamant, said Mortice suddenly. He's going to need you.
Hawk and Fisher looked at each other. "Why?" said Fisher. "What's happening?"
Something's coming.
"What? What's coming?"
Something's coming.
Hawk drew his axe and Fisher drew her sword, and they ran back into the entry hall. They could see the study door standing open. Everything seemed quiet. Hawk yelled Mortice's name, but he didn't answer. Adamant came out of the study, his face grim.
"You heard him too?"
"Yeah," said Hawk. "I think we'd better get out of here, Adamant. I've got a bad feeling about this."
Adamant nodded quickly, and gestured for Dannielle to come and join him. She did so, and Medley and Roxanne followed her out into the hall. Roxanne had her sword in her hand. She was smiling. Hawk looked away.
It's here.
Hawk moved quickly over to the front door, pulled it open, and looked out. In the last of the evening light, he could see a man in sorcerer's black walking through the grounds, heading for the house. As he passed, the things that lived in the ground writhed to the surface and died, the grass withered away, and the earth turned to sand and blew away. The sorcerer's power hung heavily on the evening air, like the tension before an approaching storm. Hawk eased the door shut, and turned to face the others.
"We're in trouble. Wulfs here, and he doesn't look friendly. Mortice, can you handle him? Mortice? Mortice!" There was no reply. Hawk cursed briefly. "That's it. We're getting out of here now. Isobel, take them out the back way. I'll follow as soon as I can."
"Why aren't you coming?" said Fisher.
"Someone's got to slow him down. Now, get moving. We haven't much time."
"I can't leave you," said Fisher.
"You have to. Our job is to keep Adamant alive, no matter what. We lost the last man we guarded. I won't let that happen again."
Fisher nodded, and led the others back down the hall. Hawk turned to the front door and slammed home the heavy bolts. He considered pushing furniture up against it as a barricade, but he had a strong feeling it wouldn't make any difference.
"Mortice? If you're listening, sorcerer, I can use all the help I can get."
There was a sharp cracking sound, and Hawk looked back at the door. It had split from top to bottom. As Hawk watched, the wood decayed and fell apart. The rotting fragments fell away from the rusting hinges, and there, in the open doorway, stood what remained of the sorcerer Wulf. Its face was little more than bone now, its grinning teeth yellowed with age. But still it moved and breathed and lived, and something else lived within it. Something hungry. Hawk gripped his axe tightly and backed away from the motionless figure. And then he heard raised voices and sounds of struggle behind him, and realized the others hadn't got very far. He risked a quick glance back over his shoulder, and his heart missed a beat as he saw the dead men filing out of the library.
Fisher had only just reached the end of the hall when the library door flew open and the first of the dead men lurched into the hall. It was one of Adamant's men-at-arms. No blood ran from the gaping wounds in the corpse, and its face was dull and empty. But its eyes saw, and it carried a sword in its hand. Another lich came out of the door after it, and another. Fisher and Roxanne stood between the dead men and the others, swords at the ready, backing slowly away to give themselves room to fight. And still the dead men came filing out of the library with weapons in their hands.
Roxanne stepped forward and brought her long sword across in a sharp vicious arc that cut clean through the first lich's neck. The head fell to the floor and rolled away, the mouth working soundlessly. The headless corpse moved relentlessly forward, sweeping its sword back and forth. Roxanne sidestepped and cut at the body, and it swayed under the force of the blow, but would not fall. Its sword arced out deceptively quickly, and Roxanne had to retreat a step. Fisher moved in beside her and cut at the lich's leg. It staggered and fell to one knee, but didn't release its hold on its sword. And then the rest of the liches were upon them, and there was nothing but flying steel and the growing army of the walking dead.
Hawk raised his axe to strike at the sorcerer, and an invisible force tore the axe from his hand. It spun clattering down the hall, and Hawk ran after it. He knew when he was out-classed. He snatched up his axe and waded into one of the liches from behind, severing its spine. It fell to the floor, and tried to crawl forward. Hawk jumped across it and moved among the dead with his axe, and they fell back from the sheer force of his attack. Medley seized the moment to move in beside Roxanne, his sword
at the ready.
"You've got to get Adamant out of here," he said quickly. "He's the important one. The Guards and I can hold these things off long enough to give you a good start."
"But what about you?" said Roxanne.
"I don't matter."
"You matter to me," said Roxanne, and kept on fighting.
Adamant had drawn his sword and Dannielle had her dagger, but even with their help, the little group was still driven back down the hall toward the waiting sorcerer. The dead men wouldn't stop, no matter how badly they were injured. They just kept pressing forward, swinging their swords, even if they had to crawl and drag themselves along the floor to do it. Adamant swung his sword in short, efficient arcs, even though he knew the faces that clustered before him. They had been his men, sworn to his service. Some of them had even been friends. They died because they sided with him, and now he had to kill them again.
Get ready, said Mortice suddenly in Hawk's mind. I'm going to use my magic to cancel out Wulfs. When I give you the word, kill him. You'll have to be quick. He's become very powerful; I can't hold him more than a moment or two. If I wasn't already dead, I think I might be frightened. I never thought to see the Abomination rise again. Now, Hawk; do it now!
Hawk drew back his arm and threw the axe with all his strength. It flew down the hall and buried itself in Wulfs skull. The sorcerer staggered back a pace under the impact, and then fell to one knee. His head slowly bowed, as though the weight of the axe was dragging it down. The liches froze in their tracks, and then slumped to the floor and didn't move again. Wulf fell forward and lay still.
Hawk hesitated a moment, unable to believe it was all over, and then walked forward to stand over the fallen sorcerer. He put his boot on the skull, reached down, and pulled the axe free. One look at the jagged wound was enough to convince him that the sorcerer was dead. No one could have survived a wound like that.
And then the body began to twitch. Hawk backed quickly away. Wulfs body shook and trembled and convulsed, the limp arms and legs flapping wildly. The black robe stretched and tore and the dead sorcerer's body split apart like some monstrous chrysalis. And out of the broken body blossomed the Abomination, drawing substance from the dead sorcerer to form a new body that was closer to its own nature. It filled the hall, its bony head brushing the ceiling. Its face was all mouth and teeth, and its muscles glistened wetly around its misshapen bones. Its twisted arms ended in foot-long claws. It stood like a man, but there was nothing human in it.
It was Hungry.
Free, said an awful voice. Free . . .
"I think we're in trouble," said Hawk.
"You might just be right," said Fisher. "Everyone start backing away. Maybe we can outrun the bastard."
"Stuff that," said Roxanne. "I'm going to kill it." The Abomination surged forward, covering the space between them with impossible speed. The small group stood together and braced themselves to meet it. It burst among them with horrid strength, shrugging off their blows and scattering the group like so many skittles. The Abomination had got out, and there was nothing they could do to stop it.
In the laundry room, the trapdoor suddenly blew open, shattering its hinges and flinging the pieces aside. Down in the darkness of the cellar something stirred, and then slowly, one step at a time, the dead man came up the stairs and out into the light. Mortice was little more than a shrivelled husk by now, but his power was upon him, rippling the air around him like a heat haze. He moved purposefully toward the door, his cold body steaming in the warmth of the laundry room.
Hawk and Fisher fought side by side, keeping the Abomination at bay with the sheer energy of their attack. Their blades struck the Being again and again, but did it no harm, the steel ringing harmlessly from its hide as though it were armoured. Roxanne threw herself at the Abomination again and again, howling with fury and frustration. Adamant and Medley protected Dannielle as best they could, but all of them knew the Being was only toying with them. Soon it would grow tired of its game and let its hunger run free, and then all the steel in the world wouldn't be enough to save them. They fought on anyway. There was nothing else to do.
The Abomination spun round suddenly, ignoring its attackers to stare down the hall. Mortice grinned back at it, his skin cracking like brittle parchment. The Lord of the Gulfs cocked its awful head to one side, and a voice burned in all their minds like a red-hot iron sinking into flesh.
You cannot save them. I am free. I walk the world again. Neither the living nor the dead can stop me. This was promised me at my creation.
"I'm neither living nor dead," said Mortice. "I'm both. Goodbye, James."
He spoke a Word of Power, and an unnatural fire roared up around him, consuming him. The Abomination screamed and turned to flee. Mortice gestured sharply with one burning arm, and a fireball shot down the hall to engulf the Being. It fell to the floor, tearing at its own flesh as it strove to put out the flames. Mortice strode unsteadily down the hall, already half-consumed by the flames, and embraced the Being in his burning arms. There was a blinding flash of light and a fading scream, and then they were both gone, and the hall was still and quiet once again.
Hawk and Fisher looked at each other and put away their weapons. Adamant and Medley did the same. Roxanne padded down the hall, glaring about her, and only then reluctantly put away her sword. Adamant looked somberly at the wide scorch mark on the floor that was all that remained to show where Mortice and the Abomination had been destroyed.
"Rest easy, my friend," he said quietly. "Maybe now you'll find some peace."
There was a polite cough from behind them, and they all spun round, weapons once more at the ready. The Council messenger standing in the open doorway looked at the leveled blades and swallowed hard. "I could always come back later;"
"I'm sorry," said Adamant, lowering his sword. "We've had a rather trying day. What can I do for you?"
"I bear greetings and salutation from the Council," said the messenger, looking a little happier now that he was back on familiar ground. "The election's over. You won. Congratulations. Can I go now?"
Adamant smiled and nodded, and the messenger disappeared at speed. Adament turned and looked at the others.
"I always thought it would mean more. I've paid a high price in friends and lives for this moment, and now I'm not even sure it's worth it."
"Of course it's worth it," said Medley. "You didn't fight this election for yourself; you fought it for the poor and the scared and the helpless, who couldn't fight for themselves. They believed in you. Are you going to let them down?"
Adamant shook his head slowly. "No. You're right, Stefan. The battle's over, but the war goes on."
Hawk and Fisher looked at each other. "I wonder if Hardcastle got a message too?" said Hawk.
Fisher grinned. "If he did, I hope the messenger's quick on his feet."
At Brimstone Hall, the silence was deafening. The messenger had delivered the election results written down on a scroll, thus ensuring he had time to get away before the storm broke. Hardcastle looked disbelievingly at the parchment in his hands. He didn't need to read it out. His expression was enough. People put down their plates and glasses, and one by one they began to leave.
Hardcastle snapped out of his daze, stepped forward and began to speak in a loud, carrying voice. He would win them back. He always had. But this time the crowd reacted to his usual mixture of boasts and threats with sullen glances and open anger. Someone shouted an insult. Somebody else threw something. In moments the crowd became an angry mob, pushing and shoving. Fights broke out. Hardcastle was forgotten in the flurry of old grudges and recriminations. He stopped speaking and looked around him with something like horror. They weren't listening. He had lost the election, and as far as the Conservatives were concerned, that meant he wasn't anybody anymore.
He never heard the quiet scuff of steel on leather as Jillian drew the knife from its hidden sheath. The first he knew of it was whe
n she plunged it into his back, again and again and again.
Chapter Ten
MAKING DEALS
Adamant was throwing another victory party, and everyone who was anyone was there. He hadn't really felt like it, but his superiors had insisted. With Reform now holding the High Steppes, the Council was under Reform control for the first time in its history. As long as they were careful not to upset the independents.
The party filled the main dining hall, and spilled over into adjoining rooms. There was a huge buffet, and a dozen different kinds of highly alcoholic punch. The noise was deafening. All the movers and shakers from both the Reform and Conservative Causes had come to meet the new Councilor, and jockey for position. The Brotherhood of Steel had provided a small army of men-at-arms to ensure the party's security, for which Hawk and Fisher were grateful. It meant they could finally relax and get some serious drinking done. It had been a long day.
Adamant and Dannielle stood together, arm in arm, smiling at everyone. They seemed thoroughly reconciled, though whether that was just for public consumption was of course open to question. Personally, Hawk thought they'd make it. He hadn't missed the way Dannielle shielded Adamant with her own body when Roxanne led the attack against him. If it hadn't been for Mortice's magic she'd have died out there on the streets, and both of them knew it. Hawk smiled to himself. They'd make it.
Speaking of Roxanne; Hawk let his gaze wander across the crowd and there she was, towering over everyone, with an arm draped comfortably across Medley's shoulders. Everyone was giving her plenty of room, but she seemed to be behaving herself. Officially, Hawk was supposed to arrest her on sight, but he wasn't in the mood.
Both she and Medley were leaving Haven first thing the next morning, and he'd settle for that. If his superiors didn't like it, they could go after her themselves. He'd send flowers to their funerals.
He looked at Fisher, standing beside him lost in her own thoughts, and smiled fondly. "Well, Isobel, what do you think of democracy in action, now that you've seen it up close?"
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