Wolf in the Fold h&f-4 Read online

  out of a window? Now, let's move it. He can't be more than a few minutes ahead

  of us."

  They pounded down the alley and out into Leech Street. Fenris was halfway down

  the street and running well. Hawk and Fisher charged after him. The crowds

  turned to watch. Some laughed, a few cheered, and the rest yelled insults and

  placed bets. A few up ahead took in Fisher's black cloak and moved to block the

  street. Guards weren't much respected in Leech Street. Hawk glared at them.

  "We're Hawk and Fisher, city Guard. Get the hell out of the way!"

  The crowd parted suddenly before them, falling back on all sides to give them

  plenty of room. Fenris glanced back over his shoulder and redoubled his efforts.

  Fisher nodded approvingly at the more respectful crowd.

  "I think they've heard of us, Hawk."

  "Shut up and keep running."

  Fenris darted down a side alley, and Hawk and Fisher plunged in after him. Hawk

  was already breathing hard. Fenris led them through a twisting maze of narrow

  streets and back alleys, changing direction and doubling back whenever he could.

  Hawk and Fisher stuck doggedly with him, breath burning in their lungs and sweat

  running down their heaving sides. Fenris ran through a street market,

  overturning stalls as he went, to try and slow them down. Hawk just ploughed

  right through the wreckage, with Fisher close behind. Furious stallholders shook

  their fists and called down curses on the heads of pursued and pursuers alike.

  Hawk's scowl deepened as he ran. Fenris was leading them deep into the rotten

  heart of the Northside, but Hawk was damned if he could figure out exactly where

  the man was headed. He must have some destination in mind, some bolt-hole he

  could hide in, or a friend who'd protect him. Hawk smiled nastily. He didn't

  care if the spy ended up in the Hall of Justice, protected by all twelve Judges

  and the King himself; Fenris was going to gaol, preferably in chains. It had

  become a matter of honor. Not to mention revenge. Hawk hated chases.

  And then Fenris rounded a corner at full speed, and darted up an exterior

  stairway on a large squat building of stained and patterned stone. Hawk started

  after him, but Fisher grabbed him by the arm and brought them both to a sudden

  halt. Fenris disappeared through a door into the building. Hawk turned on

  Fisher.

  "Before you say anything, Hawk. Look where we are."

  Hawk glared around him, and then grimaced, his anger draining quickly away.

  Fenris had brought them to Magus Court, home to all the lowlife magicians and

  sorcerers in Haven. The place looked deserted for the moment, but that could

  change in a second. On the whole, Guards tended to walk very quietly in and

  around Magus Court and not draw attention to themselves. Certainly, no one ever

  tried to make arrests there without massive support from the Guard, and, if

  necessary, the army. Otherwise they'd have been safer playing brass instruments

  in a cave full of hibernating bears.

  "That's not all," said Fisher. "Look whose house he's holed up in."

  Hawk looked, and groaned. "Grimm," he said disgustedly. "All the magic-users

  Fenris could have known, and it had to be the sorcerer Grimm."

  He and Fisher leant against the wall at the bottom of the exterior stairway and

  grabbed a few minutes' rest while they tried to work out what the hell to do

  next. Hawk and Fisher knew Grimm, and he knew them. They'd crossed swords

  before, metaphorically speaking, but Hawk and Fisher had never been able to pin

  anything on him. People were too scared to talk.

  Grimm was a medium-level sorcerer with unpleasant personal habits who

  specialized in shape changing. He could do anything from a face-lift to a full

  body transformation, depending on the needs, and wealth, of his client. He had

  no scruples; he'd do anything, to anyone. Criminals found his services very

  useful, either for themselves, to change an appearance that had grown too

  well-known, or for taking revenge on their enemies. The Guard had found one

  up-and-coming crime boss wandering the streets in the early hours of the

  morning, leaving a bloody trail behind him. It took them some time to identify

  him. He'd been flayed, every inch of skin removed from head to toe, but he was

  still alive, and screaming. He took a long time to die in the main city

  hospital, and he only stopped screaming when his voice gave out.

  It figured Fenris would know someone like Grimm. All the spy had to do was

  acquire a new face and build and he could disappear into the crowds right under

  Hawk's and Fisher's noses. On the other hand, they couldn't just go barging in

  after him. Grimm was a sorcerer and took his privacy very seriously. Officially,

  any Guard could enter any premises in Haven, providing they could demonstrate

  good cause in the Courts afterwards. In practice, it all depended on whose home

  you were talking about. Having a Court declare you posthumously correct wasn't

  much of a comfort, and sorcerers tended to throw spells first and think

  afterwards. Constant industrial espionage among magic-users had produced a

  general paranoia and split-second reflexes.

  "What do you think?" said Hawk finally.

  "I think we should think about this very carefully," said Fisher. "I have no

  desire to spend the rest of my life as a combination of several small,

  unpleasant, and very smelly animals. Shapechange sorcerers are renowned for

  having a very warped sense of humor. I say we stay put and call for backup."

  "By the time anyone gets here, Fenris will have his new face and we'll have lost

  him."

  Fisher scowled. "Given the alternatives, I say let him go.

  It's not as if he was a murderer or something. Hell, Haven's full of spies.

  What's one more or less going to make any difference?"

  "No," said Hawk firmly. "We can't let him go. It would be bad for our

  reputation. People would think we'd got soft, and take advantage."

  Fisher shook her head. "There has to be an easier way to make a living. All

  right, let's go in after him. No point in sneaking around. Grimm's bound to have

  the place covered with security spells to warn of intruders. So, crash straight

  in and trust to the suppressor stone to protect us. Right?"

  "Sounds good to me," said Hawk. "Let's do it."

  He handed Fisher the suppressor stone, and she muttered the activating phrase.

  The stone glowed fiercely in her hand like a miniature star. They started up the

  exterior stairway, Hawk in the lead, axe at the ready. The stairs creaked

  loudly. Great, thought Hawk, Just great. They hurried up the steps to the door

  at the top of the stairway. Hawk listened carefully, his ear pressed against the

  wood, but he couldn't hear anything. He tried the door handle and it turned

  stiffly in his grasp. He eased the door open an inch, and then stepped back. He

  glanced at Fisher for reassurance, and found she was doing the same to him. He

  smiled briefly. They both counted to three under their breath, kicked the door

  in and burst into the room beyond, weapons at the ready.

  The sorcerer Grimm was escorting a robed and hooded figure to a door at the far

  end of the room. He spun round and glared at the intruders, and then pushed the
/>   hooded figure towards the far door. The Guards started forward, but the figure

  was out the door and gone before they got anywhere near him. Which left them

  facing the sorcerer. Grimm was a huge, broad-chested man dressed in sorcerer's

  black, with a thick beard and an impressive mane of jet-black hair. He was

  smiling unpleasantly, like a vulture about to feed on a dead man's eyes.

  "You're under arrest, in the name of the Guard!" said Hawk resolutely, and then

  flung himself to one side as Grimm snatched a ball of fire out of thin air and

  threw it at him. The fireball hit a chair and incinerated it. Fisher threw a

  knife while the sorcerer was distracted, and it sank deep into Grimm's arm. He

  cursed briefly, pulled the knife out, and threw it aside. Hawk and Fisher

  charged across the room towards him. The sorcerer drew himself up and spoke a

  Word of Power. The suppressor stone flared up, canceling out his magic. Hawk and

  Fisher hit the sorcerer together, throwing him to the floor. There was a short,

  confused struggle, and then Fisher clubbed him unconscious with the hilt of her

  sword. Grimm went limp, and Hawk and Fisher rolled off him. They sat together,

  backs against the wall, and waited for their breathing to get back to normal.

  "Well, at least we've got something to show for the chase," said Hawk.

  "Yeah," said Fisher. "Pity about Fenris, though. We were that close to getting

  him…"

  "Forget it," said Hawk. "He's long gone by now, with a new face and build, the

  crafty bastard. We'll have to start over from scratch."

  "Right. Our superiors are not going to be pleased with us."

  They sat in silence for a while.

  "There isn't a reward on Grimm, by any chance, is there?" said Hawk hopefully.

  "No chance. There's never been any real evidence against him. Still, he's

  dropped himself right in it this time. Aiding and abetting a fugitive, resisting

  arrest, assaulting the Guard…"

  "Right," said Hawk. "Once he wakes up, he's going to have some very leading

  questions to answer."

  "Assuming he hasn't got concussion, and lost his memory."

  Hawk groaned. "Don't. It would be just our luck if we had accidentally scrambled

  his brains. Come on, let's have a look round the place while we're here. Maybe

  we'll get lucky and find a clue or something."

  They moved cautiously round Grimm's quarters, being very careful not to touch

  anything without checking it out first. Magic-users were often fond of setting

  booby traps for the unwary. Hawk's usual method of searching the premises was to

  trash the place until it looked like a hurricane had hit it, but this room

  already looked as if someone had beaten him to it. Grimm was one of those people

  who lived in a permanent mess and liked it that way. His quarters took up the

  whole of the first floor—a single long room littered with junk and debris of

  every description.

  There were racks of chemicals, glass vials and tubing, pewter mugs and mixing

  bowls, all scattered over two huge tables. Together with papers and books and

  what appeared to be the remains of at least three different meals. Hawk tossed

  aside a discarded shirt and grimaced as he discovered a dead cat, dissected into

  its component parts and neatly pinned to a display board. Beneath the cat were

  detailed instructions on how to put the animal back together again. Either Grimm

  had a really nasty sense of humor, or… Hawk decided very firmly that he wasn't

  going to think about that.

  The bed looked as though Grimm had left it exactly as he'd crawled out of it.

  Fisher peered underneath, just in case, but there was nothing there except dust

  and a chamber pot. A combination desk and writing table looked more interesting.

  She eased the drawers open one by one with the tip of her sword, and smiled as

  she came across a thick sheaf of papers. She ran the suppressor stone over the

  desk, and then carefully removed the papers, watching all the time in case there

  was a mechanical booby trap as well. She leafed quickly through the papers,

  scowling as she tried to make out Grimm's scratchy handwriting.

  Hawk looked into a recessed alcove, and his breath caught in his throat. A dozen

  different faces lined the wall; skins so skillfully taken and mounted they

  seemed almost alive. Hawk fought down his disgust and looked them over

  carefully. They were all unique, no two even remotely alike. Presumably they

  were models for the faces Grimm could give his customers. He'd better get a

  Guard sketch artist in to make copies. Fenris might be wearing one of these

  faces. He moved closer and studied them thoughtfully. Whatever else you could

  say about Grimm, he knew his stuff. The faces were incredibly lifelike. He

  reached out a hand to touch one, and then snatched his hand back as the face

  opened its eyes and looked at him. A grimace of pain moved slowly across the

  flat features, and the mouth stretched in a soundless scream. The other faces

  stirred, eyes opening across the wall to fix Hawk with the same unblinking look

  of agonized despair. Hawk's stomach lurched as he realized they were all still

  alive, pinned up and endlessly suffering.

  Whatever happened, Hawk swore he'd see Grimm brought to justice for this, at

  least.

  "Isobel, get over here, fast."

  Fisher ran quickly to join him, sword in hand, and stared numbly at the writhing

  faces on the wall. "My God, Hawk. What kind of bastard… We've got to do

  something. We can't leave them like this."

  "No, we can't. Try the suppressor stone. Maybe it'll cancel out the magic that's

  keeping them alive."

  Fisher nodded, and ran the stone slowly over the staring faces. One by one the

  eyes closed and did not open again. The life went out of the faces, and soon

  they were nothing more than empty masks, pinned to a wall. At rest, at last.

  Fisher touched a few of them tentatively, but they didn't respond. The skin was

  soft, but already cooling. Just to be sure, Hawk had her run the suppressor

  stone over the dissected cat as well.

  They took turns examining the papers Fisher had found in Grimm's desk. They

  seemed to be records of services Grimm had provided in the past, but no names

  were ever mentioned, only initials. It was mostly cosmetic sorcery, though some

  of the more bizarre requests made Hawk blink. There was no accounting for taste.

  But interesting though the documents were, there was nothing in them to tie

  Grimm in with the spy Fenris. Or at least, nothing Hawk could recognize. He

  threw the papers back onto the desk, and looked frustratedly around him.

  "We're not going to find anything here. He's too careful, too meticulous.

  Probably keeps the important information locked up in his head."

  So let the Guard sorcerers get it out of him," said Fisher. "Let them earn their

  money for a change."

  There was a low groan from behind them, and they looked quickly round. At the

  other end of the room the sorcerer Grimm was rising unsteadily to his feet. He

  shook his head once to clear it, and then his gaze fell on Hawk and Fisher and

  his face darkened. He smiled slowly, removed his robe and threw it to one side.

  Ropes of muscle bulged suddenly across his bare chest and shoulders, pus
hing out

  the taut skin. Hawk and Fisher watched transfixed as the sorcerer changed. His

  body stretched and swelled, impossible muscles crawling over an inhumanly

  magnified frame. His face trembled, the features shifting grotesquely as his

  inner rage expressed itself in distorted flesh and bone. His eyes became

  featureless black pools, and sharp jagged teeth distorted the shape of his

  mouth. Grimm padded slowly forward, his crooked hands growing razored claws.

  "I think we may have a problem here," said Hawk, taking a firm hold on his axe.

  "You always did have a gift for understatement," said Fisher. "What the hell's

  happening to him?"

  "From the look of it, I'd say the sorcerer wasn't averse to sampling his own

  wares. He's got to the stage where he can shapechange at will."

  "You know, this strikes me as a good time to get the hell out of here and yell

  for reinforcements."

  "We can't. He's between us and the nearest door. We're going to have to stop him

  ourselves."

  "Oh, great. How?"

  "I'm thinking!"

  Grimm lurched forward, his jaws snapping shut like a steel trap. There was no

  longer anything human in his face. Hawk and Fisher quickly separated, to attack

  him from different sides, and each of the sorcerer's eyes crawled to different

  positions on his head so that he could watch both Guards at once. Hawk darted in

  and cut at Grimm with his axe. The heavy steel head sheared through the

  sorcerer's waist and out again, but no blood flew. The wound closed immediately,

  the unnatural flesh flowing seamlessly back together again. Fisher cut at Grimm

  from the other side, to no better effect. The sorcerer reached for Hawk with a

  gnarled, clawed hand. Hawk quickly retreated, but the hand just kept coming

  after him as the arm stretched to an impossible length.

  "The stone!" yelled Hawk, backing frantically away. "Try the suppressor stone on

  him!"

  "I've already tried that! It doesn't seem to affect him!"

  "Well, keep trying!" Hawk threw himself to one side and the clawing hand dug

  deep furrows in the wall behind him. He darted behind the writing desk. Grimm

  demolished it with one blow of a spiked arm. Hawk looked quickly round the room,

  checking for possible escape routes. Fisher clutched the suppressor stone in her

  hand, muttering the activating phrase over and over again. The stone suddenly