The curtain of dust swirled before her with impossible energies, but no
answer came. But the very ring of that voice, mellow and fearless, drove
back the tide of fear that threatened to wash over our minds. And to me
above all it brought a sudden realization of what that sound might be.
And this time the answer came – just one word, but it sent me bounding back past Mall, snatching the lantern, and straight through the swirling dust. It was my name.
It came from the last alcove along the right-hand wall. So like the rest that we hadn’t even looked into it – and there in the dark, kneeling, her ash-blonde hair straggling and slick about her stained face, was Clare.
Her arms outflung, she was fighting to tear her wrists free of the rusty iron cuffs bolted about them, straining against the massive chain that ran between them through thick staples set in the stone. But at the sight of me she shrank back, then repeated my name slowly, disbelievingly.
‘Steve …
Not quite a classic faint, but nearly. Her eyes were open, but wild, and she writhed in sudden panic as Mall strode up behind me. Small wonder; I was half-afraid she’d heard Clare call her a giant, which she certainly wasn’t. But she did look it then, looming over the lantern like a statue of Fury. The lamplight glittered on her face as it flushed first red then deadly white, anger itself coursing like a living light beneath her clear skin. She left no doubt why, though, when she snatched up the chain and tugged at it.
Clare’s eyes flew open, and widened in sudden horror; she shrank back.
Mall shook her head reassuringly, reaching for Clare’s hands. ‘Soft, soft, my mistress, I’m no Wolf. We’ll straightway pluck the gyves from off these white wrists of yours –’
A harsh, rasping laugh rang through the cellar.
We swung around as one, and saw what only Clare had seen. Jyp’s voice
filled the silence. ‘Ah –
We weren’t total fools. Jyp had set a watch on door and stairs. And where the single huge Wolf who now stood on the middle steps had come from, I couldn’t imagine – short of walking through the wall. But there he was, queasily resplendent in a frock-coat of scarlet and filthy lace, with a bell-mouthed pistol levelled at us all. Evidently he was some sort of commander or captain. He stood taller and thinner than the usual run of them, and his hair was left lank and black about his shoulders, but powdered with what looked like gold-dust; his beard was trimmed to a Vandyke point, with sneering moustachios. And though he stood alone, he had an air of unshakeable confidence. Then I saw why, and why no watch at all could have done us any good – except possibly Stryge’s. Around his bare feet the rats were scampering, a whole flood of them pattering down the stairs. And as they gathered around him they sat up swiftly – and on up, rising and swelling as fast as blown flames to manheight and above, tall Wolves riffling their gaudy plumes and stretching with luxurious relief. There could have been a hundred and fifty or more, jostling there on the stairs.
For a long moment nobody said anything; and then Jyp shook his head sadly. ‘From rat to Wolf – piss-poor progress. I call it. Me, I liked you better as you were.’
Mall gave a slight cool chuckle. And it was the same laughter I had heard from her on the beach, the same strange sound; deep and dark and echoing, almost, before it left her throat. She hefted her sword lightly, still chuckling. The Wolf stiffened in alarm, and levelled his gun. She shrugged, opened her hand and let it fall; and the Wolf relaxed. But even as the blade clanged once on the stones she whirled about, turning her back on the Wolves, seized Clare’s chain in both hands – and in a shower of sparks, with one sharp wrench, she shattered chain and staples together. Bits of metal pattered across the flagstones, and smoke curled from the cracked stone around their roots.
