Wolf in the Fold h&f-4 Read online

MacNeil.

  But, on the other hand, if the freak was real and the wards were real, that

  would have thrown the spy completely off balance. Being trapped in the Tower by

  the wards would have been the last thing he'd expected. He'd have to be getting

  pretty desperate by now. And desperate men make mistakes. Hawk pursed his lips

  thoughtfully. So, it all came down to whether the wards were actually there.

  Either way, the answer to that question would tell him something important.

  Unless Fenris had let the freak out for some reason… Hawk decided he wasn't

  going to think about it anymore for a while. It was all getting too complicated.

  All that mattered for the moment was checking whether the wards were actually

  there. He walked casually forward. He hadn't made half a dozen steps before

  Jamie called urgently after him, and came running up behind him to grab him by

  the arm.

  "Don't go near the wards, Richard, it isn't safe." He bent down, picked up a

  clump of grass and threw it forward. It flew a few feet and then flared up

  suddenly, burning soundlessly with a brilliant, eye-searing flame. Within

  seconds there were only a few particles of ash, which were carried away on the

  wind. Jamie wiped his hands on a handkerchief, then tucked it neatly away in his

  sleeve. "Sorry about that, Richard. I should have warned you."

  "That's all right," said Hawk steadily. "I wasn't thinking."

  They both turned away from the wards and joined the others in circling round the

  Tower, searching for an empty window. Curtains and clothing and other markers

  flapped fitfully at the many windows and arrow slits. An excited shout went up

  as Jamie spotted an unmarked window, only to quickly fall away as Alistair and

  Hawk pointed out two more. The four men stood quietly together a moment, looking

  at the Tower and each other.

  "Three?" said Jamie. "How the hell can there be three windows?"

  "Presumably there are two more hidden rooms," said Marc.

  "And with our luck, two more freaks," said Hawk.

  Jamie winced. "Please, Richard. Don't say that. Not even as a joke. Things are

  bad enough without tempting fate. No; whatever those rooms are, they can't have

  anything to do with the freak, or Dad would have mentioned them in his notes."

  "Not necessarily," said Alistair.

  "We're wasting time," said Marc. "The quickest way to find out why there are two

  more hidden rooms is to go and take a look."

  "He's right," said Hawk. "We have to know what's in those rooms. One of them's

  got to have the answers we need."

  "Very well, let's go," said Jamie, staring up at the windows. "All three rooms

  are on the third floor. They shouldn't be too difficult to find."

  He led the way back into the Tower and up the stairs, moving at a fast walk that

  threatened frequently to break into a run but somehow never quite did. Hawk

  admired Jamie's self-control. It was only the MacNeil's example that kept him

  from taking the steps two at a time at a dead run. They were getting close to

  the answers now; he could feel it in his water. He was still cautious enough to

  keep a watchful eye on his surroundings, but nothing moved in the shadows and

  the only sound on the quiet was their own hurried footsteps and harsh breathing.

  Hawk kept a firm grip on his sword hilt. It was all too easy. Somehow, in some

  way Hawk didn't understand, the freak was leading them around by the nose. They

  had to be doing exactly what he wanted, or he'd have attacked them by now. It

  was the only explanation that made sense.

  They burst out onto the third floor, breathing heavily from the stairs, and

  Jamie strode briskly down the corridor, counting off doorways as he went. He

  stopped before a featureless stretch of wall, and waited impatiently for the

  others to catch up. Hawk studied the brickwork dubiously. It looked no different

  from any other stretch of wall. He looked at Jamie.

  "Are you sure this is the right place?"

  "Of course I'm sure! I grew up here; I know every floor and every room of Tower

  MacNeil like the back of my own hand. For example…" He walked back a dozen

  paces, and pressed a piece of stone scrollwork. There was a faint grinding

  noise, and a section of wall swung slowly open on concealed hinges, revealing a

  dark, narrow passage. "It's one of the old secret stairways; ends up in the

  library. One of the more useful shortcuts built into the Tower." He pushed the

  section of wall shut with a grunt, and it locked silently back into position,

  with nothing to show it had ever opened.

  "Very impressive," said Hawk as Jamie came back to join them. "I'll remember it

  if I'm in a hurry. In the meantime, if there is a room behind this wall, how do

  we get in? Break the wall down?"

  "That may not be necessary," said Alistair. "Look closely. This particular

  stretch of brickwork seems more modern than the rest."

  They all looked. Hawk was damned if he could see any difference, but didn't say

  so.

  "Look for a hidden catch or lever," said Alistair. "Something that doesn't quite

  fit, or that seems somehow out of place."

  They pressed in close to the wall, running their fingertips across the bricks

  and mortar, and staring intently at every crack and crevice. In the end, Jamie

  was the one who found the lever. It was disguised as one of the lamp brackets,

  and Jamie had noticed it was a slightly different design than the ones on either

  side of it. He gave it a good hard tug, and it tilted out of the wall. There was

  a hesitant rumbling of hidden machinery, and then a section of the wall swung

  open. Jamie stepped forward to look inside and Hawk moved quickly in beside him,

  sword at the ready.

  The room was small and featureless, lit only by daylight filtering through a

  narrow slit window. It was completely empty. Hawk scowled and lowered his sword

  as Marc and Alistair crowded in behind him.

  "Why go to all the trouble of setting up a concealed room and then not use it?

  That's crazy."

  "Not really," said Jamie, taking a few steps into the room. "This was probably

  meant for use as a last-ditch bolt-hole, in times of trouble or unrest. There

  was a time, not that many Kings ago, when the MacNeils weren't too popular at

  Court. They made the mistake of telling the King the truth instead of what he

  wanted to hear, and had the impertinence to stick up for their friends, even

  when those friends had fallen out of favor. The MacNeils always did have more

  loyalty than sense. Anyway, this was probably intended as a hiding place for

  guests the MacNeils weren't supposed to be talking to, or maybe as a refuge for

  women and children if the Tower was ever put under siege. We MacNeils haven't

  survived this long without learning a few tricks along the way."

  "Damn right," growled Alistair. "Never trust in the gratitude of Kings or

  politicians. They all have bloody short memories when they feel like it."

  Hawk nodded politely, disguising his interest. He hadn't known the MacNeils had

  a history of bad relations with the Court. That might explain why Fenris had

  gone to ground at Tower MacNeil in the first place.

  "This is all very interesting," said Marc, in a tone that implied it wasn't, at

&
nbsp; all. "But do you think we could please get a move on? We have two more rooms to

  find, and the less time we spend on our own up here, the better."

  "The lad's right," said Alistair. "We've left the women alone too long as it

  is."

  "They're protected," said Jamie. "They'll be all right till we get back."

  Alistair sniffed. "Some protection; a dandy, a drunk, and two old men. There's

  no telling what might have happened while we've been gallivanting about up

  here."

  "Then let's stop wasting time arguing and look for the other two rooms," said

  Hawk, cutting in quickly to head off the row before it got out of hand. "Jamie,

  is there a tool cupboard, or something like that up here?"

  "Of course," said Jamie stiffly. "Why?"

  "Well, it just occurred to me that we might not be able to find the hidden

  mechanisms for the other two rooms, and we might have to get into them the hard

  way—with sledgehammers and crowbars."

  "Good thinking," said Alistair, nodding approvingly. "Well, Jamie?"

  "This way," said the MacNeil. He stepped out of the room and started off down

  the corridor. "Leave the door open," he said over his shoulder. "We might need

  to find the room again in a hurry."

  They found the tool cupboard easily enough, but sorting through the contents

  took some time. Jamie had never actually looked into it before—that was what

  servants were for—and he found the contents fascinating, discovering all kinds

  of things he didn't know he had. He rummaged away happily, while everyone else

  helped themselves to what they wanted. Alistair and Marc both chose crowbars,

  hefting them with obvious unfamiliarity, while Hawk went straight for a

  short-handled sledgehammer with a large flat head. He liked the feel and weight

  of it. It reminded him of his axe. He swung it easily a few times, and stuck it

  through his belt. Everyone then had to wait while Jamie searched for a hammer

  just like Hawk's. He swung it a few times, raised an eyebrow at the weight, and

  then led the way back down the corridor to the next hidden room.

  The hallway grew darker as they moved along. The Tower's architects had seen no

  reason to waste expensive glass windows on a storage level used mainly by

  servants, and had mostly made do with arrow slits. There were lamp brackets on

  the walls at regular intervals, but with all the servants gone, none of the

  lamps was lit. The group moved from one pool of light to another, plunged

  occasionally into gloom as clouds passed before the sun, cutting off the

  daylight. Hawk peered watchfully about him, his free hand resting on the hammer

  head.

  The second stretch of brickwork Jamie indicated looked just as innocuous as the

  first. Hawk tried all the lamp brackets in the vicinity, but nothing happened. A

  thorough search of the bricks and mortar failed to turn up any other hidden

  catches or levers, so they did it the hard way. Hawk and Jamie rolled up their

  sleeves, Jamie clumsily following Hawk's example, and then they set to work with

  their sledgehammers on what looked like the weakest spot. The old brickwork gave

  way surprisingly easily, and they soon opened up a hole big enough for Alistair

  and Marc to work on with their crowbars while Hawk and Jamie took a rest. When

  the hole looked big enough, everyone stepped back to let Jamie peer into the

  gloom beyond.

  "Well?" said Mark. "What's in there?"

  "Looks like a… writing desk," said Jamie. "There are papers on it. I've got to

  get in there. We'll have to widen the hole some more."

  He stepped back, and between them the group knocked and levered away bricks

  until the hole was big enough for Jamie to squeeze through. Hawk clambered

  through after him, and then quickly turned to stop Marc and Alistair following

  him.

  "You'd better stay where you are; this looks like a really bad place to be

  cornered in. Watch the corridor. We'll yell out if we find anything

  interesting."

  Alistair sniffed and turned away, his back radiating disapproval. Marc just

  nodded and turned away. Hawk moved over to join Jamie, who was leaning over the

  desk, shuffling through a sheaf of papers and squinting at them in the meager

  light from the slit window. There was a lamp on the desk. Hawk picked it up and

  shook it, and heard oil gurgle. He raised an eyebrow. Someone had been in the

  room recently. Which meant there was a way in that they'd missed. He shrugged

  and lit the lamp, holding it over the papers. The crabbed handwriting was

  difficult to read, even with the additional light, but Hawk was able to make out

  enough of it to give him goose flesh. The author had to be the freak's father.

  Jamie swore softly as he struggled with the handwriting.

  "These are old, Richard, really old. I need to study them. This bit here seems

  to have been written directly after the freak was walled up and left to die;

  something about its…

  unnatural appetites. There are hints here about what the freak actually is, and

  how to deal with it; all the things Dad never got around to telling me. Richard,

  we've struck gold!"

  "Don't get too excited yet," said Hawk, keeping his voice low. "Here's something

  else for you to think about: Someone was in here before us, not long ago."

  Jamie looked at him sharply. "How can you tell?"

  "There was fresh oil in this lamp. What worries me is how he got in."

  "Presumably there's a secret mechanism here somewhere, and we missed it."

  "Maybe. And maybe there isn't, and our visitor used magic."

  They looked at each other for a long moment. "What are you saying?" said Jamie

  finally.

  "I'm not sure. But if there is a secret magic-user here in Tower MacNeil, that

  could complicate the hell out of things."

  Jamie frowned. "Dad was the magic-user in this Family; I never had much of a

  gift for it myself. He could have been here while he was putting together his

  notes for me."

  "That's a possibility," said Hawk. "But we can't bank on it. Let's keep this to

  ourselves for the time being. If there is a secret magic-user among us, we don't

  want to spook him. Or her."

  Jamie started to say something, then stopped as Alistair leaned in through the

  hole in the wall. "What are you two muttering about?"

  "Nothing," said Hawk. "We've just found some old papers, that's all. We'll check

  them out downstairs."

  "Right," said Jamie. He went quickly through the desk drawers, and gathered up a

  few more papers. He rolled them all up and stuffed them inside his shirt. "Let's

  go. We've still got to find the third room."

  They found it sooner than they expected. They rounded a curve in the corridor,

  and stopped dead in their tracks as they saw a great hole in the wall and debris

  scattered across the floor. Jagged half-bricks jutted from the sides of the hole

  like broken teeth, and the wall itself bowed slightly outwards into the

  corridor, as though there'd been an explosion in the room beyond.

  "That's not possible," said Jamie. "We passed this way less than half an hour

  ago, and there was no trace of this then!"

  "It's here now," said Hawk. He knelt down among the rubble and examined it

  closely in the light o
f the lamp he'd brought with him from the last room. "This

  happened some time ago. There's a layer of dust here that hasn't been disturbed.

  But you're right, Jamie; we did come this way before. You can see our footprints

  in the dust over there. Strange. There isn't this much dust anywhere else on

  this floor."

  "What does that mean?" said Jamie.

  Hawk shrugged. "Beats me. Maybe the servants just didn't feel like dusting this

  particular bit of corridor for some reason." He got to his feet, and moved over

  to inspect the broken wall. "This is interesting, too. Look at the way the

  bricks splay outwards. They must have been hit from the other side, from inside

  the room. The freak did this himself, presumably with his bare hands."

  "Gods save us," said Jamie. "What kind of monster is it?"

  Alistair moved over to study the hole, scowling thoughtfully. "Nothing human

  could have done this. The wall was stout and heavy, built to last." He peered

  through the hole at the room beyond, and his voice changed. "Richard, bring that

  lamp over here, would you?"

  Hawk did so, and the others crowded round so they could all see into the hidden

  room. Scattered across the floor of the tiny cell were hundreds of small bones.

  Among them were the bodies of several small creatures, rats and mice and other

  things too decayed and corrupt to identify. The room stank of age and decay,

  like a freshly opened tomb.

  "Well, now we know what he ate," said Jamie, his voice too steady to be natural.

  "It doesn't explain how they got into a bricked-up room," said Hawk. "Besides,

  some of the less decayed bodies look practically untouched."

  He stepped back from the hole to get some fresh air, and the others gladly took

  this as an excuse to do the same. They looked at each other for a while, at a

  loss for words.

  Hawk nudged a brick on the floor with his foot, and the sudden grating sound

  seemed very loud.

  "Perhaps there's something in the papers that will explain this," said Jamie

  finally. "I'll check them when we get downstairs."

  "There's only one explanation," said Alistair. "Magic. Some kind of illusion.

  The hole in the wall was there all the time, and we walked right past it without

  seeing it. Hell, we must have been practically stumbling over the rubble."

  "So what happened to the illusion?" said Hawk. "Why are we able to see the hole