Chapter Fourteen:
Leading Questions
The Manor:
Anne Marie sat down at the circular table in the library and sighed, still feeling the scratches she had received from the rats earlier that afternoon. It had taken her, Isabella, and Heidi – as well as assistance from the maids Selena and Delani; plus Mr Devlin, who was the grounds keeper; and the butler, Hargreaves, to collectively hold back the tide of rats and uncover their nearly-established nest. Lady Hanbrook had been the one of the first to encounter the squirming rodents – and she had been in hysterics, until Isabella had slapped her friend and urged her to pull herself together. Anne Marie was not sure if that had been the right thing to do. Nevertheless, with Isabella and Lady Hanbrook co-ordinating the others, the nest was discovered to be in the derelict north wing, some rooms away from where Delani had her quarters. Using torches, the women and the staff had smoked the rats out and exterminated them all. Then the budding fires were put out before the damage became too widespread.
After the treatment of everyone's wounds, and an improvised cold dinner made by the assistant cook, Anne Marie had retreated to the library where Delani had already lit the fireplace. The sun had set outside, the curtains had been drawn to – but with the candles lit in their settings, the school teacher breathed in the surrounding scents of the wooden shelves and the texture of the book bindings. The sensations, along with the near silence, helped to calm her after the horrors of the day.
Closing her eyes, Anne Marie's mind would flash back to the book burning at the church – as well as the flood of the rats…
Shuddering with revulsion, she considered what to do next. Frowning, she pulled out the two keys she had discovered by now. The first had been underneath the large tree at the edge of the fields – when she had journeyed with Isabella and Inspector Cooke to Major Bruckner's farm. The second, more polished, key she had found in the hallway of the manor on her way to the library. She wondered if someone had dropped it. Possibly Lady Hanbrook herself. Her ladyship had brought over a book of medicine to the sitting room, in order to help 'the heroes of the hour' as she termed them, to recover from their wounds, where they were being treated and bandaged after the bites and scratches of the wriggling rodents.
Anne Marie sighed. She considered herself to be a good person – but if she was forced to declare her worst faults, she would declare them to be her lack of self-confidence, and also her tendency to secretively collect and pocket items that she found. Such as these keys.
Why would someone leave behind a key underneath the tree? Thinking back now, in light of the events that had followed, she wished she had told the inspector about her find. After the fight with the mutated dog, she had totally forgotten to do so.
Stretching her protesting muscles, Anne Marie rose and walked over to examine the contents of the library. Besides the expected books of literature, law, and nature – there was something that was entitled a 'Book of Riddles'…
After reading the puzzles within for several minutes, Anne Marie marveled at how the author was encouraging the reader to think differently. Acting on impulse, she placed it in her satchel.
I will return zis later, I promise…, she told herself.
Then, looking at one of the lowest shelves, tapping each of the books with her eager hands, Anne Marie discovered that one of the largest books was actually a locked case, made to look like a book.
Eyes widening, she tried the two keys she had picked up. The dull key did not fit – but the more polished key, found in the hallway, did. The now-unlocked case opened to reveal another book set inside the case. It was entitled 'Book of Town History' – and she opened it up with trembling fingers. She was certain now that the key had been dropped by Lady Hanbrook after she had emerged from the library, when she had her hysterical fit upon seeing the rats. But that prompted a question: why had the book been hidden this way?
She turned the pages, letting her intuition guide her – as was her habit. The book had been written twenty two years ago, by a local author – and it was full of various accounts of varied natures. Under a chapter labeled 'The Superstitions of Shadowbrook', Elaine Bartlett had a few pages written about her. Apparently, after being arrested for witchcraft, mesmerism had been employed by Magistrate Kroft to force the truth from Bartlett when the tortures had failed to work. Even then, she had tried to fight against confession, by the force of her strong will – but admitted to first practicing in dark magik as a child of sixteen. Her parents had already died of illness – but she had experimented with a lotion and wolf pelt, along with an accomplice. And they had succeeded in turning themselves into werewolves who attacked livestock in a village some miles further inland. The attacks stopped when local men found two wolf pelts hidden in a hollow tree in the nearby woods, and burnt them. However, the town elders were never able to force Bartlett to name her accomplice.
A note stuck inside the pages, with the words in slanted handwriting added: "We suspected that it was her older brother, Lucien. After he joined the army, Elaine ran away from the village where she had wreaked havoc and found herself a husband from Shadowbrook, thus changing her surname from Bruckner to Bartlett.
There was another suspected witch in the area at the same time, as well. It was reported that she and Elaine Bruckner were friends – but went their separate ways. The identity of this second girl remains unknown. G.H."
"Mon dieu… It fits," Anne Marie murmured to herself. So that was why, according to Victor Danforth's account, Elaine Bartlett had used her magik to transform her brother into a werewolf – and in doing so, possessed him. She was invoking the thrill of old times for them both - as she used him as her vessel of destruction and revenge against the town elders…
And George Hanbrook had written the note.
Anne Marie found a letter at the back of the book, and she read it with wide eyes. She then learnt of the killings and terror caused a year ago by the woodland spirit who had termed herself as the Delion Dryad.
"Given that all our efforts – including mine - against her have failed, my Lord…," the writer had penned, "…May I suggest that I be given your authority to persuade Elaine to help us hunt down and fight the Dryad? I hope that she, like myself, can find redemption for her past crimes.
Signed: 'S'"
There was another letter folded inside the same envelope. It had been written by Mayor Benedict Carver of Tidewater.
"In response to the suggestion you have made, Lord Hanbrook, the woman Bartlett should certainly be coerced into fighting the Delion Dryad before she succeeds in seducing more of us elders into doing her dark work. I have already lost my harbormaster to her will – and will have to appoint a new one. I am already considering Henry Jefferson to be the most viable choice – despite the soiled reputation that hangs over him from the war.
However, I must press upon you the seriousness of Bartlett's heinous crimes. If she dies during our efforts to eliminate the Dryad, so be it. However, if she defeats the Dryad, I am concerned that she will use her magik to acquire the Dryad's control over nature itself. From what you have told me of the Bartlett witch, I fear that this is all too possible. Therefore, if the Dryad is defeated by your prisoner, the charges that you had promised to be dropped against her must still stand! And therefore she should be hanged…"
"Hypocrisy… Hypocrisy revealed," Anne Marie whispered. "Ze Shadow Witch did defeat the Delion Dryad. And ze reports from Monsieur Danforth and ze outlaws… Bartlett did gain the power of control over nature. Ze wolves, ze living trees. And after her defeat of the Dryad, the town elders did not drop ze charges against her, in exchange for her service. Zey hung her anyway!"
Anne Marie compared the two letters, and realized something. Major Carver had referred to the Shadow Witch contemptuously with terms such as 'the Bartlett woman' – whereas 'S' had called her 'Elaine'. And he – or she – had written personally of 'past crimes'…
"I wonder…," she breathed, tapping the text with her finger.
She jumped, startled by the passage of time as the clock above the fireplace struck the hour. Telling herself to calm down, Anne Marie's intuition pulled her towards the back of the book, which revealed a diary of events. At the end of October, last year – 1802 - Elaine Bartlett was hanged outside of the Town Hall of Shadowbrook.
Anne Marie swept her eyes across earlier events in the town's history. March 1781 was the date of the wedding between George and Josette Hanbrook. Just below that, October 1781 marked the birth of Lucy…
What…!?
She read the entry again. The birth of Lucy Hanbrook had been printed as October 1781 – only for the year to be later crossed out, and replaced with 1782…
Anne Marie took in a deep breath, and slowly released it. She turned to look at the cover of the book, realizing that she had not bothered to mentally take in the author's name. If he still lived in Shadowbrook, then perhaps – after the threat had gone – she could track him down, and …
The author was one ' '.
The book fell from her suddenly-weak grasp and bounced upon the floor. She squatted down…
Voices! Outside in the corridor. Captain Townsend was asking the butler where Miss Piaget could be found…
Hurriedly, Anne Marie placed the book of town history back into the case, which she managed to re-lock in her panic. She was just putting the fake book back in its place when the butler opened the door to the library – with the tall Captain Townsend following in behind.
"There you are, Miss Piaget!" He nodded to her, taking off his tricorn hat.
"Is something wrong, Captain?" she asked, attempting to keep her voice from betraying her nerves. But she already sensed that the news was not good…
Townsend nodded. "It has come to my attention that two boys in the town have gone missing, mademoiselle. Their parents have reported to my men that they have not returned from the church, where Reverend Harding was schooling them today… I was hoping that you might know something of their characters which could help locate them…"
As the Captain finished his account of what the worried mothers had told him, Isabella and Heidi appeared in the doorway.
Anne Marie nervously twisted her hands against each other. Isabella noticed this and became alert.
"More trouble, Anne Marie?" she asked in her crystal-cut voice.
"Oui, Isabella. I think I should return to town. Two of my pupils have gone missing. And…and I think I need to speak to someone. Someone who might be able to give us some light in this darkness…"
Isabella arched an eyebrow. "Then Heidi and I will come with you. My footman, Gustav, can drive a trap from here."
The Captain looked startled. "Dear ladies! Shadowbrook is likely to come under attack! You will be safer here…"
Isabella tisk-tisked him. "Actually, Captain, recent experience suggests to me that lightning is liable to strike us anywhere we may be. And I have strong nerves. I can help defend the town with a good gun and plenty of ammunition. And besides…why should MEN get to have all the fun?"
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
Shadowbrook:
"You can turn around now, Darcius," Katarina told him. "I don't know why you looked away. After all, you saw enough of me in the last hour."
Inspector Cooke, who was on the other side of the bars, looking in the opposite direction, scowled and coughed in irritation.
Darcius Redfern, the Scarlet Shadow, turned away from the stone wall of the cell to see his lover adjusting her pants around her waist, before taking her tricorn hat that the jailor was offering back to her.
"Well, even the jailor here was looking away whilst you were getting dressed, my dear. So one has to maintain appearances, given my class," the Shadow replied, smirking at her, glad to see that he was making her smile, if only briefly.
"I wish you hadn't lost your ring of invisibility, Darcius. We could make use of it, whilst defending the town," Katarina whispered to him.
"Alas…" The Scarlet Shadow shrugged. "Too much happened when those angry trees attacked us."
Desperate times call for desperate measures, he had declared at the abandoned keep. And the situation had evidently turned desperate, he could tell. After being reunited in his cell, he and Katarina had engaged in a…most passionate session. Katarina had taken the lead, apparently desperate to make love to him. He thought he had detected tears in her eyes during their coupling – but she had brushed aside his questions, and silenced them by locking her lips onto his. She had still been somewhat dirty after her excursion with Cooke to the keep – but her body had also been warm. Most likely as a result of being chased around the fortress, from what she told him afterwards. And her nails… He chuckled. Katarina's hands had roamed every part of him during their lovemaking, and his skin felt sore from her explorations.
And as they had lain together in the bed in the aftermath of their passion, Katarina's tears came back as she told him what had become of the rest of their gang. He felt crushed. The statue of Sloan had become animated. Kelner and Jasmine had been turned into Feral Kin, prior to being killed - and before leaving the now truly abandoned keep, Katarina had been able to account for the remaining outlaws, all torn apart by the Feral Kin, or found with their necks broken by the Sloan statue.
And now… Inspector Cooke had rushed into the gaol, along with Lord Hanbrook. The prisoners were to be released and armed. The Feral Kin had taken the covered bridge – killing half of the guards posted there in the battle, whilst Hanbrook, Cooke, and the others had ridden hurriedly back to town.
And so, whilst he – followed by Katarina - had taken a quick scrub, the Shadow saw Lord Hanbrook blanch. He had muttered something to Cooke that sounded like 'Get them to teach the locals how to shoot straight…' Then he had left.
Next came the pistols from Inspector Cooke.
"We are trusting you to help us – and not to run away. On both your honors," the uptight Inspector admonished them.
"Do not worry, Inspector Cooke," the Shadow replied. "Both Katarina and I care deeply about the welfare of Shadowbrook and its inhabitants."
"That's one of the reasons why we became outlaws in the first place." Katarina added, her eyes now sad again. "We have more honor than most people in this town…"
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
Sophie O'Hare finally left the Doctor's office, feeling drained and apprehensive. The flood of injured refugees from the nearby hamlet of Brooksvane had been checked over. Those who had been clawed by the wolf men creatures that had stormed Brooksvane, but had escaped had displayed no signs of having their wounds infected. But it had taken a while for herself and Doctor Manning's understudy, Cochrane, to be certain from their examinations.
The herbs and potions handed to them by Inspector Jonathan Cooke and the female outlaw had been a godsend – allowing her and Cochrane to treat the unfortunate Doctor Manning and cure him of the lycanthropy that the wretched Major Bruckner had inflicted upon him. Having Theodore Manning out of action for a day, during a crisis, had been a nightmare.
Fortunately, she and Cochrane were able to keep Theodore's secret, secret. Despite the presence of extra people in the surgery – Cooke and Miss Clark; then Lord Hanbrook and poor Lucy, along with that fussy little Welsh man, and the gallant soldier…
Sophie pulled up the hood of her green cloak to shield her from the chill of the October night, as she started to walk through the torch-lit streets towards her comfortable house, bypassing the few, frightened townsfolk about as they scurried about their business. The moon was full, of course – she knew it would be. Which meant that Bruckner's pack and the Grotesque winged horrors would be bolder and deadlier in their attacks…
"Just as well we cured Theodore in time. Before he could fully transform," she sighed to herself. She would check on him in the morning. For tonight, Cochrane was staying upstairs in the surgery's spare bedroom, to watch over his senior fellow.
But then the main bedroom had been vacated. Around sunset, the soldier had charged down the stairs and into the examination room. He told her and Cochrane that he had been drugged by the Welsh inventor, and had just come to. Morgan had gone – along with Lucy Hanbrook. Had they heard them leave? And she and Cockrane had not. They had simply been too busy.
If Harlow Morgan had carried Lucy Hanbrook out of the Doctor's surgery, then he was stronger than he looked, Sophie considered. And – putting aside the why of the whole matter – where would he take her? To his rented house? She thought not – but had anyone checked there yet?
The midwife paused outside the Town Hall, remembering all too well the scene there of that day a year ago. Elaine Bartlett being led out of the nearby gaol to the gallows, falsely protesting her innocence against her crimes of witchcraft, and glaring at each of the town elders with venom, knowing some of their secrets. The look the Shadow Witch had given her in particular was the most accusing, the most hateful – and it had been a real struggle for Sophie to stop herself from running away. Instead she had stood her ground, along with the baying crowd, who had then cheered as the trap opened and Bartlett's vile mouth had been silenced.
Only Bartlett's spirit was too strong in death to leave them be for very long. Hell had rejected her – or she had struck a deal with the devil, perhaps.
The Shadow Witch wanted her and the other elders dead. And despite her aloof demeanor, Sophie O'Hare was very afraid. Afraid enough to…
What was going on here?
Intrigued, Sophie approached the gathered mob of men outside the Town Hall. The rather dashing Inspector, along with his bull-headed sergeant, was inspecting the makeshift weapons that the men – citizens of the town – were holding. There was Hector Dalton, the Blacksmith, with a pair of large hammers. Next to him was the butcher with some long knives. There were even some relatively-young women with torches, pitchforks, and rolling pins. And before them was that ginger-headed outlaw, Miss Clark. She held a pistol in one hand, and was pointing with it to the uncovered body of one of the Grotesques in a cart – with the Scarlet Shadow having just pulled back the tarpaulin to expose the creature.
"I know several of you have lost loved ones. I know you are all afraid! That you think that the devil has sent creatures like this one against this town – even whilst the Shadow Witch has returned, as she promised to, here in this very square!" the young outlaw addressed the crowd in a clear, passionate voice. "But there is no point in running away. The town is under siege, and we have nowhere to go. So we can either just wait to die – or we fight back! And unlike the Reverend Harding, I will not preach anything to you of you failing the laws of God. I will only urge us all to keep our wits together, to stand together, and to fight! Fight for your children, your families, for yourselves!"
"We can survive this darkness – and we will!" the Scarlet Shadow added, punching his clenched fist into the air. "Fight back against the werewolves and the Grotesques, and the living statues. Fight. Fight. Fight!"
"Fight. Fight. Fight!" the war cry began to gather strength amongst the meager crowd as slowly, but surely, the spirits of the townsfolk were lifted out of their gloom and darkness by the reassuring speech.
Sophie smiled, and then turned to walk on home.
Pressing on, the midwife came across a group of men who, led by Captain Townsend and that tubby playwright, were rolling barrels along the puddle-streaked streets. Evidently, they were heading from the tavern, and going to…where?
Intrigued, Sophie followed them, keeping some yards behind so to avoid their attention for now. Not far from the Magistrate's office, on the eastern side of town, the men stopped where a trench had been dug by some of the still-present militia. And the trench ran in both directions as far as she could see. Now Captain Townsend was ordering the gathered rabble to pour the contents of one of the barrels into the trench, which was about a meter deep and two meters wide. The unsavory-looking lot looked reluctant to carry out the order.
"Quickly! We're not doing this for your exercise! Pour that barrel into the trench here. The other two can be poured further along the trench, that way, to the north…"
A chorus of howls broke out, making them all jump. Then Sophie saw the playwright gulp and point along the road that led out of town and towards the site of the covered bridge.
"They're coming! For god's sake, landlord, get that beer into the trench!" Victor pleaded with the burly man close by.
"Alright… Losing my job better be worth it." The man rubbed his hands against the apron he was wearing, nodded to his customers, and then set about opening up the barrel before pouring the contents into the trench. Then yells rang out as the first pair of the Feral Kin appeared in the light cast by the flickering torches, running on all fours each at full pelt along the road towards them…
One slowed down and halted, nose twitching at the strong smell of the spilled beer – but the other leapt over the trench at the panicking, gathered men. Quickly, the playwright swung out with the ax that he had been holding, and managed to bash it in the head with the flat side as it cleared the trench. Stunned, the male Feral Kin fell to the ground and rolled into the alcohol-soaked trench. The mutated creature yelped its dismay.
For a moment, the fat man seemed stunned by his success – or maybe at his bravery, thought Sophie. Then the playwright gathered his wits and yelled 'Torch!'. One of the torchbearers accompanying the crowd promptly threw it into the trench. There was a 'hiss' and sudden eruption of flame. The Feral Kin screamed as it was set alight, and it died as it vainly attempted to pull itself out of the trench.
Howling its anger, the other lupine fiend turned around and ran back along the road leading to the bridge. The men cheered and slapped the playwright's shoulders.
"Well done, Mr Danforth! I like your creative thinking." The landlord smirked.
But then the Captain yelled at them to be silent as he peered along the road through a spyglass taken from his person. "Quiet! I can see the eyes of more of them. They're stalking this way… And there's a big one with them… Oh! It's you, Miss O'Hare. Yes – be my guest. Take a look for yourself."
Sophie did so, having made her approach. She made out the fearsome-looking werewolf that had to be the Major, transformed by the witchcraft of his sister. With his eyes on the barrier of flame that cut off the road's entry to the town, he was walking slowly, but steadily, on two legs. Whilst his Feral Kin slaves skulked behind.
"Bruckner…!" she spat, handing back the spyglass to Captain Townsend. Quickly making up her mind, she turned and ran over to her nearby house. Once inside, Sophie quickly grabbed a hidden, locked wooden box and placed it in her satchel. Then she sprinted as fast as she could back to the Town Hall. Already the church bell was sounding the alarm, courtesy of the sharp-eyed militia lookout posted there. The civilian squad was on the march, led by the grim-faced, but rather handsome-looking, Inspector Cooke, Sophie noted. His sergeant, the Scarlet Shadow, and his inspiring lady friend were aiding to keep the armed citizens in line as they hurried to the eastern edge of town where Victor Danforth and Captain Townsend were gathered with their men.
Panting heavily as she fished out her key for the side door of the Town Hall, Sophie made her way in and dashed inside – not bothering to relock the door, in her haste.
Before long, the midwife had emerged into the attic via the hatchway. Lighting a candle, she cleared a space amongst the junk that had been stored here over the years, and unlocked her box before spreading out her materials…
Minutes later, she finished chanting the last incantation and then applied the flame of a second candle to the ring of soil she had scattered in a circle around her cross-legged position on the wooden floor. Twisting herself on her knees in order to turn herself around, Sophie managed to light up half of the circle when…
She gasped – but managed to prevent the candle falling from her sweaty fingers.
"Put that candle down. Right now. And put out that fire you've just started," Isabella von Took ordered in a clear, icy voice, as she aimed the hunting rifle Heidi had taken from Karl's party. Next to her, Anne Marie cleared the remaining rungs of the step ladder and – with her hands now free - pulled out her pistol.
Sophie cursed herself for being so engrossed in her task that she had failed to hear the intruders coming through the gap of the hatchway – and for failing to lock the side door.
"You must let me complete the circle!" she exclaimed. "Then the town will…"
"I was not making a request!" Isabella curled her lip. "Stop your witchcraft – or I will put a bullet through you. Where it will cause damage is another matter…"
"It's you, isn't it? You're a Servant of Darkness, aren't you? Admit it!" Anne Marie added to the pressure upon the frightened-looking, blonde-haired, midwife. "You are working with either le loup garou; or ze being behind the Grotesques. You are directing the attacks with your magik here!"
"No – that's not true! This is a ritual of protection that I am conjuring… Protection for Shadowbrook," Sophie defended herself. She glared back at Isabella in defiance. "If you shoot me, the town will not receive my aid on its western side. And if the small flames here are put out, then my magik will be snuffed out also! Go…go to the east exit of the town, and find your Mr Danforth. The fire he has just set up in the trench should be burning brighter now – enough to hold back that devil, Bruckner!"
Isabella and Anne Marie shared a dubious look. Then Anne Marie spoke.
"Go, mon amie. I will watch over Mademoiselle O'Hare."
Isabella raised an eyebrow, but lowered the rifle.
"Perhaps you would prefer this rifle, instead of your gun…"
Anne Marie smiled and shook her head. "I am not strong enough to carry ze big guns. I am…, 'ow would you say? Lightweight."
"Very well. I aim to return soon. Heidi is guarding the side door – I will send her out as our scout," Isabella declared as she slung the attached leather strap over her head, prior to descending the ladder.
As her footsteps died away downstairs, Anne Marie lowered the pistol, but did not put it away. She felt a flush of self-pride in correctly identifying 'S' from the letter hidden in the manor's library.
"You were friends with Elaine Bruckner," she announced. "Oui?"
Sophie's face turned paler in the flickering light from the candles – both from the one she had just put down, and the earlier lit one, now set to one side of the circle. "How did you learn th-?"
"Just tell me ze truth." Anne Marie pressed her, not unkindly.
Sophie shuddered at the memories. "I lived in the next village to her and Lucien whilst growing up. Both Elaine and I had the 'gift', and we were outsiders who found certain books when… Well, that's unimportant right now. All three of us got involved in…dark arts…in order to protect ourselves from certain other people. But when Lucien acquired a pair of wolf pelts, and he and Elaine experimented turning themselves into werewolves… It was the start of the divide between us. As werewolves, their savagery towards animals sickened me. I did not betray them – but we went our separate ways. I moved away – to Shadowbrook. But then Elaine married Mr Bartlett – and her hateful brother took over a farm holding here, which he lived in, when his army duties did not take him elsewhere. But after living near Shadowbrook for several years, Elaine became greedy for greater power, for more magik. Anyone who she took a dislike to became a victim, in one way or another, of her witchcraft... Her wicked actions put a strain on her marriage – and eventually she gleefully killed her husband when he learned too much. That is the truth, Mademoiselle Piaget."
Anne Marie nodded. "And when her brother was on army duty, unable to defend her, she was captured and tortured by you town elders. She was sent to fight the terror of ze Delion Dryad. But when she defeated ze Dryad, the charges of witchcraft were not dropped – as was promised for her aid."
Sophie sighed and lowered her head. "When I realized that Elaine was the one behind the accusations of witchcraft in our township, I tracked her down and tried to persuade her away from her dark path. I thought I had succeeded at the time – but Elaine would not listen to reason. And when she killed the Delion Dryad, Elaine was somehow able to absorb the wretch's powers over nature. By then it was clear that Elaine was even more dangerous. We had to have her hanged, before she caused more deaths. And I had hoped that her threat to return from death would fail to pass. Unfortunately, the return of her cat - Solomon – and…"
"…Bruckner's dog turning into a wolf-like creature, which you saw," Anne Marie reflected. "You heard that laugh – as did I. Just before the magik passed from le chat…"
"Solomon acts as a conduit for his mistress, I believe. And you heard Elaine's mocking laughter, as did I, because we are sensitive enough in spirit, Miss Piaget." Sophie gave a small smile. "Yes, I am a witch – but I consider myself to be a white witch, trying to make up for my foolish younger years by using my abilities to do what good I can for this stricken township. And despite our previous friendship, I am in no doubt that Elaine wants revenge against me as she does against the other town elders. She wishes us dead – or under her control. Nor do I know anything of the being behind those winged monsters, except for what I have learnt from others. That soldier, Mr Harrison, told me that it was a living gargoyle – a being that uses its touch to either turn people into dead husks, or into living statues! And yes, the elders know of my 'gift' – thanks to that zealot Harding catching me out once, years ago. Fortunately, the others gave me a chance to prove myself."
Anne Marie nodded. "And we are doing so with you, also, Mademoiselle O'Hare. Now, as we wait for Isabella, what can you tell me about what ze other town elders are hiding?"
Sophie gave an amused laugh that sounded almost musical. "You really need to ask each of them – there's not much I know about their secrets…"
"What about ze the fact that Lucy Hanbrook is a year older than she has been presented to be?"
Sophie gave a start, and she nervously chewed her lip. "That's not for me to say… We are a private people…and would prefer to stay that way!"
Anne Marie shook her head in exasperation and pointed her pistol at the midwife. "Do not make me use this... Isabella and I are doing what we can to get to the bottom of ze troubles that plague this town." She thought furiously. "Are the Hanbrooks even Lucy's real parents?"
Sophie hesitated – and then decided to give way, if only a little. "Blast your leading questions… Josette Hanbrook is indeed her mother. Now please, put that gun down! I really am on the side of this town – and time is of the essence if I am to set up a complete circle of protection around Shadowbrook..."
At that moment, Isabella popped up her head through the hatchway. She was panting from her sprint from the Town Hall's side door.
"Anne Marie… Heidi has reported back to me as fast as she could. "The alcohol-fuelled flames are burning higher! Apparently, Bruckner was about to take an almighty running leap over them – when they apparently flared up higher, and…and stopped him. So Mr Danforth told her…" She turned to address the midwife. "Congratulations, Miss O'Hare. It looks as if your magik has helped to potentially save lives…"
Anne Marie lowered her pistol with relief. "Bon. Complete your ritual, Mademoiselle!"
Nodding, Sophie picked up her lit candle once more and got to work. In the meantime, Anne Marie's mind was furiously going over all that she had just learnt.
"Well…" Isabella considered. "If we can indeed trust you, Miss O'Hare, Heidi and I should perhaps help to check that the fiery barriers will continue to burn around Shadowbrook. I understand that the trench is all around the perimeter of the town."
Sophie nodded. "My magik will extend the life of the fire – whilst it still has fuel to burn. I have not rested or eaten since my work at the surgery, but I will stay here to watch over my circle of fire." Her gaze shifted to the schoolteacher. "And you, Mademoiselle? What will you do now?"
Anne Marie considered this. Putting down her pistol, she reached into her satchel and pulled out a sealed flask of cleaned water and some wrapped provisions. "I offer you these as an apology, Mademoiselle O'Hare. And now… I have the disappearance of two of my school pupils to address…"
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
The Olde Woods:
Lucy Hanbrook awoke from her disturbed, feverish dreams – only to discover that the real world had its own deeply unpleasant sensations to offer her. Her tongue and mouth were dry, and as her vision gradually cleared she discovered that the bedroom she had been vaguely aware of before had now been replaced by a cave. Water was dripping somewhere, and the air was cooler here – but she was still sweating madly.
The young woman shifted, and tried to rise – only to collapse again. There was a flickering candle nearby to provide soft light, and Lucy saw that she was lying on the blanket that had covered her when she had been resting in that bed. Or had that been a dream…?
Her bones ached madly, and she cried out – convulsing as a jolt of agony swept through her. As the pain receded and she gasped for breath, Lucy became aware that something else was different. Managing to push the blanket aside, she…
Wait… I am…undressed?
Darting her eyes around, Lucy felt a surge of relief hit her. Her shoes and clothes were neatly arranged in a pile, close by. Then, trembling, Lucy felt for the Gargoyle's Stone Touch upon her chest – and found it missing.
With wide eyes, she looked along her slender frame towards her left leg. That too was now a healthy pink color – though she felt the skin to be warm. She really did have a fever.
"Water… I need water…," she croaked. Turning herself round, Lucy could see the pool close by – and she started to pull herself, inch by inch, towards it with her faltering strength. All she then had to do was to dip her tongue in the fresh water and lap it up…
Lap it up? She frowned, puzzled by the impulsive thought that had entered her head. I am not some d-
Her nostrils flared. Someone had entered the cave! With a burst of adrenalin, she twisted round on her hands and feet - and bared her teeth, ready to defend herself and her territory…
Territory…? Dear lord! What is happening to me!?
She froze, seeing Harlow Morgan the inventor crouching at the mouth of the small cave. He held himself still and stared at her over the top of his spectacles. Stared her down…
"We do not have time to fight, Lucy!" he bristled at her. "I am here to help you." And with that he opened his hands, to reveal four dead rats. Four large rats. At first, Lucy was repulsed by the sight of them, and she squirmed. But then something inside of her found herself being drawn to them. She could smell their blood on them…
"Wh-?"
"I went out to gather some food. Some berries. But I came across a nest of rats in the woods. If I hadn't dealt with them, they would've swarmed out and possibly headed to Shadowbrook. I suppose they're another of the Shadow Witch's amusements. From what I understand, she acquired some of the powers of something called the Delion Dryad. Powers that include control over nature. But let's see to your fever, dear girl…"
Harlow strode into the cave. His short frame helped him to avoid stooping over once he had passed through the entrance. Dumping the dead rats on a rock, he opened up a leather bag he had brought with him and took out a sponge. Dipping it into the pool he approached Lucy.
"No! Keep back… Why did you undress me…?" she whimpered.
"Because I knew you would break out into a fever. And because your clothes would be ruined if…" Harlow bit his lip and sighed. "My intentions are honorable, Miss Hanbrook. The only sin I have committed against you is the fact that I have cursed you. But, in doing so, it was the only way to save you from becoming a statue – such as Mr Harrow, so your friend told me."
"You cured me? And you cursed me…?" Lucy felt the sweat drip down her face. "Thomas! I remember – he got turned to stone, whilst protecting me… Karl! Where's Karl? I want to s- Aagghh!"
Lucy convulsed and fell forwards, collapsing upon the cave floor. Dipping his sponge into the pool again, he hurried over and dabbed her face, back, and limbs. Then he squeezed her hand.
"The first time is the worst. After that it gradually gets better, as you gain experience and slowly build up control," he told her. "I am sorry so for bringing this agony upon you. You remind me so much of my lost daughter – and I want to save the life of an innocent lady this time, so that I can repent for my past errors, you see…"
"You feel warm…" Lucy panted. She watched as Harlow sat down upon a rocky shelf and unbuckle his shoes. Then her eyes widened. The inventor was now not only removing his coat and lace cravat, he was fully undressing himself – leaving his spectacles for last, as he folded his clothes next to hers. She realized that Harlow was also looking flushed. And sweating…
"How did you save me from the Gargoyle's stone touch?" she snapped at him. "Where is Karl? Where are we, Mr Morgan? What do you mean about your daughter? Did…did you kill her? Did…? Oh, dear lord. Did you kill other people? Did you hurt Karl!?"
"Deary me. So many leading questions," Harlow muttered. "I'll try to answer them as best I can, Miss Hanbrook – given that we're short of time. I saved you by giving you a blood transfusion. You are free of the…Gargoyle's…curse on you – but now you are about to become the same as me. Do not worry about your soldier friend. I rendered him unconscious. Next, I dashed over to my house using my skeleton key to pick up what I needed, such as this bag with a sponge and a change of clothes – then headed back to the Doctor's surgery. I placed my leather bag in your lap and wrapped you up in the bed blanket, before carefully carrying you downstairs and sneaking out of the back door. Luckily, no one was around to question my actions. And, by referring to an old map, I used an abandoned, forgotten tunnel to sneak underneath the trench and barriers being set up around Shadowbrook. The town is under siege by those winged creatures and…"
"A tunnel? But if the town is under siege, then…"
"The entrances are well-hidden, I assure you." Harlow held up a hand, before he removed his long johns and crouched down to hide his manhood from Lucy. "As to where we are, this is a cave on the edge of the olde woods, close to the River Shadow. It was marked on the old map I referred to. I suspect it was used by smugglers, many years ago. No one else seems to know about it – not even Major Bruckner and the woodland thugs he associates with…"
Harlow winced and yelped, as the familiar pain suddenly shot through him. He arched his back and slumped against the rocks. Lucy then mirrored his actions, as a tremor racked through her slender, youthful frame. All of her bones and muscles ached. Her skin was itching madly all over. She felt as if something was growing inside her – coming to the surface of her being. Wanting to break out and…be free.
"It hurts so much…," she gasped. Lucy raised her head to face Harlow again. "Your daughter…!"
"The story of my Harriett will have to wait for another time, dear Lucy," he moaned as he removed his glasses and placed them on top of his clothes. "I caused her death, may God forgive me! And I hope that you can forgive me for what I've done to you and to this town. You see, I tried to save that woman. Agnes Agnew, I mean. Tried to save her from Bruckner and some of his gang. But I failed. And I infected that wicked man. Made him worse…"
Lucy gave another cry. Then her gaze became fixed upon her painful hands. They were becoming distorted. The hands were stretching, the skin of her palms was turning thicker, harder, and the fingers were shortening. Her nails were lengthening into…
….claws. Sharp claws.
Sucking in her breath, Lucy felt her itching bare arms – wincing as she scratched herself. Despite the gloom of the cave, her vision suddenly seemed to be turning sharper – and she saw, and felt, the rapid growth of many hairs on her skin. Gingery-brown hairs that were now emerging on her arms, her legs, her chest and stomach – and even on her face.
"Nooo!" Her voice was already changing, developing the timber of a panicking animal. Lucy feverish pulled herself over to the pool, and saw her reflection by the torchlight. Through a hole in the cave roof here, Lucy could see the evening sky above – and she had enough light to watch in horror as her reflection's ears gradually shifted upwards and grow animal-like points. Watched, and felt, her nose broaden and turn leathery. Lucy gasped as her breasts shrank and became covered by her sprouting coat of rough, warm fur. Then she felt the emergence of her new budding…teats…below her chest. Next, Lucy felt her cranial hair receding, before it mixed with the emergent fur on her neck and face.
She remembered the phase of the moon that she had glimpsed through one of the windmill's windows, last night. It had been nearly full.
"Werewolf… You're a werewolf, Mr Morgan! And now…I'm one too!" Lucy wailed. She turned to see Harlow Morgan – who was undergoing the same metamorphosis, though in a somewhat-smoother, less painful fashion. His whole body was now changing its entire framework into that of a man-sized wolf. His brown pelt of fur was cloaking him – and his lupine scent hit her nostrils.
"Do not…forget whho yuu arr…, Lu-cee," Harlow growled as his furred face was reshaped by the growth of his muzzle and his lupine ears. "Do nnot ffight…the w-wolf… But make her…accept yuu…"
Lucy tried to come to terms with that advice. But it was a struggle, as her body and mind continued to warp and twist into the beast that she was becoming. The pressure at the base of her spine gave way to a growing, twitching tail that was soon covered by the fur spreading across her back. Her fever peaked, along with the rage of the wolf breaking free from the restraints of her sheltered, human life – and she opened her now fully-grown muzzle, slapping her long, drooling tongue against her new fangs, as Lucy Hanbrook gave vent to her pain – and her joy - with a long howl that was joined by one from the male wolf, as she marked the moment of her birth into a new life…
Collapsing upon the cave floor once more, Lucy panted, her newly-grown whiskers around her mouth tasting the air, taking in the fine musk of her companion – the one who had made her. Who had freed her.
The scents of the pool and the dead rats made her drool. Even now, she realized that her saliva was infectious. But she was trying to remember who she was…
With a nudge from the black nose of her companion, Lucy Hanbrook rose upon her four paws as a fully-fledged, woman-sized wolf. And at a nod from her maker, she dived upon the slain rodents and tore into them with her sharp teeth, to take the edge off her furious newfound hunger…