Wolf in the Fold

open the door. He staggered out into the corridor, and Hawk and Fisher went

after him.

The flames were leaping high now, and his skin was beginning to blacken, but

still he never made a sound. He glanced back at his pursuers, made for the

stairs, and then stopped as he looked up and saw Jamie leading his party down

the stairs towards him. The freak looked back and forth, his mutilated mouth

twisted in a snarl, and then his power leapt out, driven beyond its usual limits

by hate and desperation. One by one those on the stairs slumped to the ground,

their eyes slowly closing as the last bit of strength drained from them, until

only Alistair remained on his feet. He advanced slowly down the stairs, his face

eerily lit by the flames that still leapt around the freak.

"It's no use, boy," he said softly, so that only the freak would hear. "Your

power can't affect me. I'm no more human than you are."

They stood face to face for a moment, staring at each other, and then Alistair's

sword shot out and buried itself in the freak's chest. He collapsed silently to

the floor, twitched a few times and lay still, curled around his death wound.

The leaping flames tugged at his clothes, but did not stir him. Alistair pulled

out the sword, and then carefully and methodically cut off the freak's head,

just in case. One by one, the others rose unsteadily to their feet as strength

flowed slowly back into them. Alistair sheathed his sword, and went over to

Hawk.

"It seems I owe you an apology. I was so sure you were the freak. But then, I'm

only human."

Back in the library, the room became a bedlam as everyone talked at once,

explaining and apologizing and generally relaxing. Holly fussed around Arthur,

wrapping his broken hand in a cloth and trying to clean the blood from his face

with a handkerchief soaked in wine. David kept squeezing Arthur's shoulder, and

telling him incoherently how well he'd done. But finally Jamie confronted Hawk,

and everyone else shut up so they could listen.

"I think you owe us some answers," said Jamie. "All right, we were wrong about

you being the freak. I'm sorry, but you have been behaving very suspiciously.

Who are you, really, and what are you doing here? And what the hell happened to

your eye?"

"I can't tell you who I am," said Hawk flatly. "But I can tell you why I'm here.

Isobel and I came here looking for someone."

"Who?"

Hawk turned and looked at David. "Do you want to tell them, or shall I?"

David shrugged, and met the MacNeil's gaze unflinchingly. "Sorry, Jamie, but I'm

afraid I've rather let the side down. I'm a spy. I stumbled across a piece of

information I knew Outremer would pay a hell of a lot for, and the temptation

was just too great. I needed the money, you see. I owe a hell of a lot, what

with one thing and another, much more than you ever knew about, and some of my

creditors were becoming very insistent. There was even talk of debtors' prison.

My Family had already made it clear they wouldn't be responsible for my debts

anymore, and without their backing the moneylenders wouldn't even see me.

"It wasn't difficult, making contact with Outremer. You'd be surprised how many

agents they have here in the city. But in the end it all went wrong, and I ended

up running for my life. So I came here, to hide out while I waited for my

contact to show up. I had to come anyway, to see what Holly was going to get

from the will. I was banking on her inheriting a fortune, to get me out of the

hole I'd dug for myself. She'd have loaned me what I needed. Hell, you'd have

given it to me outright, wouldn't you, Holly? You never could deny me anything."

"Why the hell didn't you ask me for the money?" said Jamie hotly. "I wouldn't

have let you go under, for the sake of a miserable few thousand ducats."

"I couldn't ask you, or any of my friends," said David. "I didn't want you to

know what a fool I'd made of myself. I have my pride. It's all I've got left

now. I won't give it up. I won't stand trial, either. Arthur, look after Holly."

He turned and ran out the door, and into the corridor. Hawk and Fisher went

after him. Hawk paused at the door to order everyone else to stay put in the

library, and then he and Fisher charged down the corridor and up the stairs in

pursuit of David Brook. They were both tired after their struggle with the

freak, and David soon outdistanced them. They pressed on, following the sound of

his feet on the stairs. They passed the second floor and the third, and still

David led them on.

"Where the hell does he think he's going?" panted Fisher. "There's nowhere left

now but the battlements, and once he's there, we've got him cornered."

"Not necessarily," said Hawk. "There's still one way down, if he wants to take

it."

They finally burst out into the morning air, and found David sitting on the edge

of the far parapet wall, waiting for them. Fisher started forward, but Hawk put

a restraining hand on her arm. The sunlight was almost painfully bright after

the gloom of the third floor, and Hawk stood quietly a moment, letting his eye

adjust. David sat patiently, his legs dangling over the long drop. He was

smiling slightly.

"Come away from the edge," said Hawk finally. "It's dangerous."

"Look at the view," said David. "Isn't it marvelous? It feels like you can see

forever."

"Is that why you dragged us all the way up here?" said Fisher. "To admire the

view?"

David shrugged, and smiled. "I won't ask you how I gave myself away. It doesn't

matter. I was pretty much an amateur at the spying game, anyway. But I would

like to know who you really are."

"Hawk and Fisher, Captains in the city Guard," said Hawk. "We're the ones who

chased you through half of Haven last night."

David raised an eyebrow. "I'm impressed. I've heard some of the stories they

tell about you two. Are they true?"

"Some of them," said Hawk.

"What did you do with the sorcerer Grimm?"

"We killed him," said Fisher.

"Good," said David. "The city probably smells better now he's gone. I wouldn't

have dealt with him at all if my contact hadn't insisted."

"Who was your contact?" said Hawk.

David shrugged. "It was always someone different. They didn't trust me enough to

let me see anyone important."

"What about the information?" said Fisher. "What was so important that so many

people had to risk their lives because of it?"

David stared out across the sea. "The Monarch of Outremer is coming here, to

Haven, to meet with our King and hammer out a Peace Treaty to put an end to the

border clashes, before they start really getting out of hand. But there are

those on both sides who would profit greatly from a war, people who don't want

the peace talks to succeed. Knowing the exact date and time and place of those

talks was therefore of very great value to those with an interest in sabotaging

them. And I knew. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time,

and nosy enough to look at a sheet of paper left lying carelessly on a desk. And

that's how it all started. As simply as that."

"Come away from the edge," said Hawk. "You might fall."

"I'm not going back," said David. "If I were put on trial, it would disgrace my

Family's name. I can't do that. I've been enough of a disappointment to them as

it is. Besides, my friends would be found guilty by association, just for

knowing me. And Holly would be hounded, ostracized, because she was close to me.

I can't have that. I think Holly could be happy with Arthur. Don't you?"

"Yes," said Hawk. "He cares for her."

"Good," said David, and pushed himself out and away from the wall. He didn't

scream, all the way down to the rocks at the bottom of the cliffs.

Chapter Eight

Saying Goodbye

The wards finally went down at ten o'clock the next morning. A subtle vibration

came and went on the air, and the solid weight of Tower MacNeil seemed to settle

itself more comfortably, and as suddenly and simply as that, it was over. Hawk

ceremoniously opened the front door, and he and Fisher stepped out into the

brisk morning air. It was a fine sunny morning, with only the cold nip of the

wind to remind them of how close winter was. Gulls rode the wind on outstretched

wings, crying and keening, and from far below came the endless crash of waves on

the rocks.

Only Jamie and Robbie Brennan were there to say goodbye, and Hawk and Fisher

were just as happy that way. It had been an uncomfortable time for all of them,

waiting for the wards to go down. Hawk and Fisher might have saved the day, but

their very presence was a reminder of things the MacNeils were eager to forget.

The four of them stood together a moment, two within the Tower and two without,

none of them sure what to say for the best. In the end, Jamie coughed awkwardly,

and they all looked at him expectantly.

"You've done my Family a great service," he said firmly. "The freak is finally

at rest, and the MacNeils are free of their Curse, if not their Shame. I wish

you'd let me reward you in some way. Just saying thanks doesn't seem nearly

enough."

"Thanks are all we want," said Hawk. "We're just grateful you haven't insisted

on knowing who we really are."

"I have a strong feeling I should," said Jamie, trying not to stare at Hawk's

closed right eye, "But I'm equally sure I wouldn't like the answer. You'd

probably only lie, anyway."

Hawk and Fisher grinned, and said nothing.

"I'm afraid we're all the send-off you're going to get," said Brennan. "The

others have all managed to be very busy just at the moment. Holly and Lord

Arthur are comforting each other, as best they can. For the moment they both

miss David too much to think of anything else, but I wouldn't be surprised if

they ended up staying together. I think they'd be good for each other. Who

knows? Maybe she'll even stop him drinking."

Hawk smiled. "It's possible, I suppose. Stranger things have happened."

"Aunt Katrina is upstairs packing," said Jamie. "I told her she was still

welcome to stay as long as she wished, but it would appear she can't wait to

leave. She says she doesn't feel safe here anymore. I can understand that. I've

lived all my life in the Tower, and I don't feel the same about it now. It's as

though an old and trusted friend had suddenly revealed a dark and violent side

to his nature, something you'd never even suspected before. I'll probably get

over it, but I don't think I'll ever really trust the Tower again."

"Where's she going?" said Hawk.

Jamie shrugged. "Back to the city. I don't think she herself knows where she's

going yet."

"Maybe she'll go back to her husband," said Fisher.

"I hope not," said Brennan. "For his sake. I wouldn't wish Katrina on my worst

enemy. At least not unless I was in a really nasty mood."

"What about Alistair?" said Hawk. "He spent most of yesterday evening trying to

avoid us."

"He's around somewhere," said Jamie. "Hiding his face. I think he still feels

guilty about accusing you of being the freak. No doubt he'll turn up again, once

you're safely gone."

There was another pause as they ran out of polite, unimportant things to say.

"I'm sorry about David," said Hawk finally. "He wasn't a bad sort. We would have

taken him alive, if we could."

"I know that," said Jamie. "I've no doubt it happened just the way you

described. David was many things, but he was never a coward. He knew there was

only one thing he could do to protect his Family, and he did it. I don't know

what I'm going to tell them. Some of the truth is bound to come out, eventually.

I can't even bring his body home to them. The tides have already taken it out to

sea. I still feel guilty about him, you know. I was his friend. I should have

realized something was wrong. If I had, maybe I could have found a way to help

him, before he got mixed up with the wrong people…"

"Stop that," said Brennan firmly. "If David had wanted you to know, he would

have told you. He had enough opportunities. But his pride wouldn't let him. Or

perhaps he just didn't want to drag his friends down with him. Whatever happened

is his responsibility, no one else's. You're the MacNeil now, Jamie. You must

learn not to worry about things that can't be changed."

Jamie nodded slowly, but still looked unconvinced. Hawk decided this might be a

good time to change the subject, and cleared his throat loudly. "What about you,

Robbie? What are you going to do with yourself, now that Duncan's left you such

a sizeable windfall?"

Robbie grinned. "Damned if I know, to be honest. But I might just do a little

traveling. It's a long time since I was out in the world. There's bound to have

been a lot of changes, and I think I'd like to see some of them while I still

can. Not that I haven't been happy here, Jamie, but it's not the same with

Duncan gone. I'll look back from time to time, see how you're getting on; sing

you any new songs I've picked up."

"Yes, of course," said Jamie. "That would be nice."

Brennan laughed. "You're not fooling anyone, Jamie. You never did appreciate my

singing."

"It's an acquired taste," said Jamie solemnly. "And I've only been listening to

you for about twenty years."

They all smiled genuinely, and Hawk put out his hand to Jamie. The MacNeil shook

it firmly. There was a quick burst of handshaking all round, and Hawk led Fisher

away, before the goodbyes could become awkward again. They set off down the

trail that led to the city, and didn't look back.

"Well," said Hawk finally, "how did you like being one of the Quality, Isobel?"

Fisher snorted. "The food was good and the wines were splendid, but the company

sucked and I hate their idea of fashion. The corset pinches me every time I

breathe, having my hair piled up like this makes my head ache, and these shoes

are killing me."

Hawk smiled. "Just be grateful we didn't have to mix with a dozen or more

Families in High Society."

"I am grateful," said Fisher. "Believe me."

"I don't think we did too badly. We didn't hit anyone." Fisher shook her head.

"You don't have the right attitude for High Society, Hawk."

"Hark who's talking."

They laughed quietly together, and made their way back down towards Haven.

Alistair stood alone in the drawing room, looking up at the portrait of the

Family Guardian hanging over the fireplace. The room was very quiet, the only

sound the soft crackling of the fire. He knew he didn't have much time before

the others would come looking for him, but still he hesitated, torn with

indecision. It was such a long time since he'd last walked the corridors of the

Tower. He hadn't realized he'd miss it so much.

He looked round the drawing room, deliberately not hurrying himself, taking in

all the details. They'd made a lot of changes since his day. He didn't care for

most of them, but then, fashions change. He walked slowly round the room,

smelling the flowers and admiring the paintings and tapestries, and letting his

fingers drift over the polished surfaces of the furniture. He couldn't stay. It

was his home, but he couldn't stay. He didn't belong here anymore. The young

girl Holly had begged for him to come, and so he had, but he wasn't needed

anymore. The freak was dead at last, finally at peace.

He turned back to face the portrait again. It was time to go, before the others

realized he wasn't really Alistair MacNeil after all. He wanted so much to stay,

to walk in the real world, to see the sun rise and fall and feel the wind on his

face… but he still had his penance to fulfill. The penance he'd taken on so many

years ago, for the terrible things he'd done to his son, the freak.

The MacNeil Family Guardian held his head high and disappeared back into the

portrait hanging over the fireplace, waiting to be called again, in time of

need.

Whenever they might need him.