Hi there, and welcome to the next part of the story!

CHAPTER WARNINGS: MINOR VIOLENCE, MINOR LANGUAGE.

CHAPTER 11

A FRIEND AMONG WOLVES

Sparrow

Hammer and I were duly imprisoned together. Our captor had only spared her, I suspect, on the grounds that killing my best friend would have rather ruined his efforts to win me. The room we were locked in was a sitting room, which Desmond ordered redecorated, and dedicated to the use of his two lady guests. I suppose it did mean we could talk privately, since Hammer was apparently going to be detained in her own bedroom in the evenings. Unfortunately, Hammer's ill – begotten plan had agitated Balvornen's already suspicious mind; he held no illusions in regard to what I would do if I had the means to escape, and I wondered if Hammer's well – meaning interference would cost me dearly.

In spite of what is commonly believed, a saint I am not, and when Hammer attempted to sooth me by commenting, 'At least we get to be together again,' I replied most ungraciously. What did I say? Here's a hint: '! #$%^&*' Hammer simply guffawed, grinning widely; 'Blimey, I never expected to hear you cuss like that!' I softened somewhat, but admonished her sternly nonetheless, 'And I, my friend, never took you as a fool.'

'I'm not,' she replied, unconcernedly enjoying the buttered crumpets. Who can blame her, though? I myself had been trying to save my energy for the right moment, and had enjoyed much of my captors excellent foodstuffs. Not that I could ever match the sheer bulk of Hammer's appetite. She continued between mouthfuls: 'How was I to know that you'd be there with that hulk? I was only doing a bit of fieldwork.'

I sighed, feeling weary and agitated, but realising that Hammer had obviously not intended for anything to happen. 'Look, Hammer,' I apologetically replied, 'I'm sorry to be so short, and I'm overjoyed to see you in principle. I'm just on edge, and it's not just about other people for once. If I get transformed into a monster, I'll be an unstoppable source of evil. It'd be even worse than if you were a balverine, since I can use magic. Do you have any reassuring news whatsoever about all this?'

When Hammer informed me, in low tones in case of eavesdroppers, of her part in the siege at Mourningwood Fort, (which had been darkly hinted at by Balvornen when he and his men had finally subdued Hammer,) I was, I confess, heartened and cheered by the news. Lucy Parker's passing was unwelcome, as is the death of any soldier, yet I think that my (probably overt) interest in Walter Beck made me all the more sorrowful for the occurance than I have been about many equally tragic deaths. I was, of course, as proud of my dear friend Hammer as I always have been, and as I observed her demeanour and tone, I realised that she had matured greatly since we parted at the Tattered Spire. I was also gladdened by the news that our forces were convening for action, and that other settlements would, hopefully, not share Brightwalls present fate. All I hoped for, thus informed, was the chance to escape, or otherwise a successful rescue.

When Hammer had completed her narrative, punctuated with appropriate comments from myself, I begged her (only half jokingly), 'If you think of any way to escape, please give me a detailed analysis, so that I can stop Garth or Reaver from sabotaging it.'

'Are they here?' Hammer spluttered, surprised.

'Oh, yes,' I replied, recounting their failed rescue attempts. While the absurdity of the situation had not escaped me, I had not at any point been amused by what had transpired. However, Hammer's infectious laughter made me see the funny side of the fiasco more clearly, and I could only laugh with her.

When I'd finished, Hammer chuckled, 'I'll be blowed. Well, I suppose it's my turn now, since we've decided to ignore the fact we're prisoners: I'm married.'

'What!' I gasped, (and I'm afraid it was as much from disbelief as delight,) 'Hammer, that's wonderful! When did it happen?'

Two years ago,' Hammer replied through a mouthful of her twelfth iced tea-cake. 'His name's Paul. He's one of the male monks from the monastery I lived at. We left the monastery just after the wedding, though. We've been living in the town, but we're considering moving further south to where it's warmer, so I thought that now would be a good time to come back down, catch up with you, see the sights and all that. You know the rest' She finished her sentence with a slurp of tea – black and sugary, the way she liked it.

'Congratulations!' I giggled, patting her on the shoulder and feeling like a teenager again. 'I just hope you get to see him again. Where's the ring, by the way?'

'I don't usually wear it,' Hammer replied, munching a scone, 'I'd just ruin it, knowing me, or lose it. Paul's keeping it for me.'

So the conversation continued, with much warmth and camaraderie. I swear, never did an afternoon of my captivity pass so quickly as that I spent in Hammer's company. As the sun began to slant through the trees in the reds and pinks of eventide, Balvornen unlocked the door and entered. 'Ladies,' he announced, 'I have special plans for dinner tonight, if you would be so kind as to dress appropriately. Madame Hammer, I've had the town's best seamstress prepare a gown made to your measurements. One of the servants is waiting to assist you.'

Hammer glowered at Balvornen, and departed in the company of three hefty guards. I prepared to follow, but found my way barred by Balvornen. 'One moment, pet. I think we need to chat.' He closed and locked the door, and indicated to a seat. I lowered myself into the chair, and Belvornen knelt in front of me. 'The time has come, my dear. Madame Hammer's rescue was, for lack of a better phrase, imbecilic. However, I feel uncomfortable having my fair prize at a loose end. You understand, I'm sure, when I say it's time: make your choice.'

Crunch time, then. I talked. It's always better than nothing, and buys time. 'What happens to Hammer if I agree?'

He chuckled, 'Well, I always welcome heroes into my ranks. Once you've experienced being a balverine, I'm sure your friend will be amenable to joining you, with your encouragement. If she prefers to remain human, she's equally welcome, of course.'

'What happens to her if I refuse … theoretically?'

'Then both of you are forced to transform.'

'What if she doesn't want to join you when I do?'

'Then she dies.'

'And the special arrangements for tonight?'

'It is a full moon, dearest. Time for the transformation ceremony. We will celebrate afterwards with a feast worthy of Albion's future queen, and her best friend.'

I decided that the best thing to do would to wait and see where the ceremony would be taking place, get as close to the town gates as possible, subtly let Hammer know we were making a break, and hope against all odds that we'd either manage to break free, or Garth would come to the rescue. Reaver had none of my faith anymore, (not that he'd ever inspired much confidence,) although I did plan to unlock the bracelet at the appropriate moment, and was at least grateful for his key. OK, you can say it: the plan was dismal. But it was the best there was. Remember, I didn't have a slippery canine friend anymore to help, and I had Hammer to think of as well. I opened my mouth to pretend to agree to Balvornen's proposal, when there was a sudden commotion downstairs. Balvornen and I both stilled, listening.

From below, we could hear shattering glass, heavy thumps, shouts, gunfire, and the grinding of metal against metal. I could also sense the presence of an ancient, overpowering magic. Balvornen evidently also felt it. He snarled, bolted to the door, and left, locking me in. I listened, wishing I could know what was going on beneath me. After a minute or two, I heard the noises approaching the stairs, mounting them, and reaching the landing where my room was located. As they did, I heard a forceful female voice bellow, 'SPARROW, GET THAT BRACELET OFF NOW, AND STAY AWAY FROM THE DOOR!' I did without hesitation, hoping that rescue was nigh. The dainty key opened the lock with a satysfying click, and as the bracelet slipped from my risk, I felt the heady sensation of my magic flowing back into my veins. Moments later, the door was blown off its hinges in a shattering explosion, and in the doorway stood a woman I had never seen before. She was red headed, blue eyed, and wore robes of white and blue.

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