The Clockwork Wolf (15 page)

I stopped and looked at the scattered herbs and then at her face. “I have been chased and attacked by a man-beast.” As I spoke I advanced on her. “I was taken to hospital to be treated for my wounds, where I was attacked again. Then the beast's master came after me in my dreams, and I had to spend last night hiding in the sewers.” I stopped and lowered my head until we were on eye level. “The completely fantastic part of it, Gert, is that
none
of that evil was my doing.”

Her chin wobbled. “ 'Tis the price of serving the devil, young miss.”

“Evil is chasing me all round Rumsen,” I assured her. “Evil wants me dead. A right shabby way to treat such a devoted servant, don't you think?”

Her eyes widened, and she squeaked before whirling about and skittering off.

I didn't have to look behind me to see what had frightened her. “Morning, Satan.”

Dredmore followed me into the office, where he told me to stand and wait while he inspected the tube portal and the rest of the premises. No Wolfmen, rat bombs, or other unwelcome deliveries were found, but the pile of post he tossed onto my desk made me groan.

“If this keeps up it'll sink the business.” I went over to fill the kettle. “We are not having green tea. We are having black, and I like it strong. Be warned, it may grow hair on your teeth.”

He watched me bustle about. “I presume you spent the night in a sewer, as you smell like one.”

“No, I don't.” I took a surreptitious sniff of my sleeve; yes, I did. “I'll change and wash up when I go home.” I thumped the kettle down on the steamdog and switched it on. “Why did the Aramanthan come after me in my sleep? Why not send another Wolfman to hunt me down? Or maybe those two were all he had and there aren't any more.”

“Inspector Doyle told me that fifty-nine men have gone missing since Bestly died,” Dredmore said. “A few are servants, but most were titled—and all of them resided on the Hill. The missing men's families have agreed to keep it quiet and out of the papers for now, but the ton is closing ranks and demanding answers.”

“How could he have taken so many so fast?” I sat down and stared at my unopened post. “He couldn't have made them all into Wolfmen yet. He knows from what
happened to Bestly and the other two that it will kill them. A dead army is useless to him.” I thought of all the facts I'd gathered, and the one that kept nagging at me was Bestly's ornate tie pins and pocket watches. “Were the missing men taken from their homes?”

“According to Doyle, they all left their homes on their own volition and never returned.” Dredmore gave me a shrewd look. “What are you thinking?”

“If they weren't taken, then the Aramanthan had to lure these men to him,” I said slowly. “Lord Bestly was last seen leaving him home for the White Lupine. The immortal could be recruiting from the gentlemen's clubs, and why are you looking at me like that?”

“Sir Refrue, a former client of mine who is among the missing,” Dredmore said, “is a founding member of the White Lupine.”

“If the other missing men belonged to Bestly's club, then that is the connection. The Aramanthan could be posing as one of the members, too.” I stood up. “We must go and question the manager.”

“Women are not permitted inside a gentlemen's club. I will call on the manager.” Dredmore brought me a cup of tea. “You will go home, take a bath, and burn that gown. Connell will drive you.”

“Stop being so bloody high-handed. As long as the sun is up I'll be safe, and I have work to do.” I cradled the cup between my hands. “I'll go and talk to Doyle. He'll have a list of who's gone missing.” The thump of his cup on my desk made me frown. “If you break that, you're buying me another.”

“This isn't a game of hide-and-find, Charmian,” he
said through gritted teeth. “The Aramanthan will be using mortals. Mortals who can easily cut your throat at any hour of the day. He already has fifty-nine of them under his spell.”

“After last night I'm not sure he wants me dead. Else why would he bother offering a bargain?” I watched him pace back and forth. “Locking me up in Morehaven won't solve this case. Lucien, this isn't only about Lady Bestly's reputation and ruin. He can't be permitted to change all those men into mindless beasts.”

He turned on me. “You will agree to have Connell drive you. Furthermore, you will wait for me at your home, and you will not creep back into the sewers.”

“He didn't find me there last night, did he?” I took a sip of my tea. “I can look after myself, milord. I always have.”

“As you are so fond of reminding me.” He leaned over the desk. “Do you know what it will do to me if I lose you?”

I pretended to think. “Your mood would improve in time, certainly. You'd go on as before, dazzling the nobs and amassing unimaginable wealth, until you retire to some tropical island to spend your golden years drinking coconut milk and eating a great many fish. By the way, Rina will probably be your next-door neighbor.”

“Charmian.”

I met his dark glare. “You might miss me a little at first, but I expect in the end you'd be grateful to have me gone. After all, I've brought you nothing but grief.”

“You are sadly mistaken, madam.” He retrieved his cloak and shrugged into it. “We will meet at four,
agreed?” When I nodded he picked up his tea and threw it across the room, where it smashed through the window. Before I could do more than gape he tossed a shilling on my desk. “Here. Perhaps you'll live long enough to buy another.”

I watched him stalk out before I picked up the coin. “What about the window?” I called after him.

•   •   •

I temporarily patched the broken pane in my window with a bit of paperboard before I sorted out the post. Among the usual inquiries and payments was a list of the names and addresses of the Wolfmen's victims I'd purchased from a clerk at Rumsen Main (Doyle had no idea how simple it was to bribe some of his staff), as well as no less than ten invitations to tea on the Hill. I tucked away the list of victims for future reference and studied the invites. Since I'd never been the toast of the ton, I hadn't met any of the ladies requesting my attendance, but I recognized their names. All ten were well established, filthy rich, and married to the most important men in the territory.

The cream of Rumsen society also had no reason to know of my existence save one: my visit to Lady Bestly's home.

It would have only taken them a day to find out who I was and seize the opportunity to confirm the gossip doubtless spreading like wildfire among their servants. They couldn't ask Lady Bestly about the matter directly; that was bad ton. I, on the other, had no social standing, so they could interrogate me unmercifully the moment I stepped in the drawing room.

This put me in something of a pickle. I couldn't toss the invitations into the fire or pretend I'd never received them, but I couldn't respond to them, either. No one said no to these women; any refusal on my part would be considered a personal insult. Still, no one but Docket, Gert, and Dredmore knew I'd come to the office this morning; that would buy a little time.

I put on Hedger's red cloak and pulled the hood over my head before I departed. I took care to keep my face averted whenever I passed one of the other tenants, and while a few of them sniffed and muttered rude things about bathing and laundry, no one spoke to me. The lady dispeller on the fourth floor could hardly afford to wear silk velvet.

Outside Connell sat waiting for me in a hired carri, and for once clambered down to help me inside.

“You're looking very pale, miss.”

He'd never before spoken to me, so I could be excused my moment of shock. “I'm all right.” Then, because I couldn't help myself, I said, “I didn't know you could talk, Mr. Connell.”

“His lordship don't like chatter.” He tipped his hat and climbed up behind the wheel.

Small wonder Dredmore expected me to follow his orders without a quibble. Even Connell, another of his trusted servants, was expected to go about his duties with silent, absolute obedience.

As he started the engine, I leaned forward to ask, “Don't you ever get tired of him ordering you about, Mr. Connell?”

“Lord Dredmore pays me to do what he says, miss.”
He gave me a sideways glance. “I'm to take you to your house and keep you there. He said to tie you up if need be.”

“No need to resort to ropes.” When this was over, I decided, Dredmore and I were going to have a very long talk about who was actually in charge of my life. “Do drive on, Mr. Connell.”

Connell drove the carri as fast and skillfully as Dredmore's coach and four, and in a few minutes we reached my goldstone. Once he helped me down he insisted on going into the house first—also on his master's orders—and checked the premises as thoroughly as Dredmore had my office. He politely refused my offer of tea, bolted the back entry, and took position at the front.

I retreated to my bathing room, where I stripped out of my sewer-fragrant gown and ran a hot tub, adding a liberal amount of rose-scented soap flakes to the water. I had to stand on my footstool and hold a hand mirror to remove the bandages taped to my back, but my awkward inspection confirmed that the last of my wounds had closed over and most were healed, leaving only a few pinkish-white scars. In another day or two those would also disappear; thanks to Harry's blood I never scarred permanently.

I climbed down from the stool and put away the hand mirror, frowning at my reflection as I remembered the Wolfman's body in the morgue.
No surgical scars,
Dez had said. Yet the only logical way the mech might have been installed in the man's body would have required it to be cut open.

The men had not been immortal or possessed, but
could they have been spirit-born, like me and Dredmore? Able to heal without scars?

I tested the water in my old clearstone tub before I stepped in and carefully sank down beneath the pink bubbles, groaning a little as the heat spread over me. Every muscle in my body felt stretched and sore, as if I were some animech that had been wound up too tight. I folded and tucked a washing cloth under my neck and closed my eyes.

“Jolly fine time for you to be taking a nap,” Harry said somewhere behind me. “The city is in imminent peril. We've crazed monsters running about the streets attacking the helpless. Not to mention you could nod off and drown.”

I opened one eye. “Harry, I didn't summon you. I am naked, in my bath, and you're my grandfather.” I closed my eye. “Go away.”

“Don't be disgusting,” he snapped. “I went to hospital to check on you, and you were gone, so I came here and waited. Once the sun came up I was trapped. Where have you been? Your gown smells like the sewers.”

I was going to drown myself in my tub. “Never mind where I was, what have you learned? Do you know who is creating the Wolfmen?”

“I know what he is, but not who.” He made a frustrated sound. “The Aramanthan who populate the Netherside are not very keen on mortals or me. Since I led the mortals who defeated them, I suppose it can't be helped.”

I reached for my soap cake. “We already know the master of the Wolfmen is Aramanthan. What else is there?”

“This one is said to be earthbound, and has been since the immortal wars ended,” Harry said. “Possessing one mortal body after another would have granted him the means and time to acquire whatever he needed to build his power and develop his magic. After so many centuries he may be unstoppable.”

“That was what they said about Zarath,” I reminded him, “and I not only stopped him, I made sure he'll never possess another mortal body again.”

“If you're thinking of using your da's pocket watch again, forget it,” Harry said. “You were lucky to live through your first trip through time. When you did, you created unnatural forces that still resonate inside you. Another such journey will add more, much more than you can contain in your mortal form. You can't risk another go.”

Although Harry had often lied to me in the past, this time I sensed he was being completely honest. “Very well, no time travel. How then are we to defeat him?”

“I don't know.”

“You're Merlin. You've
forgotten
more magic than anyone knows.” The way he was avoiding my gaze made me suspicious—what could this beast-maker immortal do that would give Harry pause? Then suddenly I understood. “I see. He's like you, isn't he?”

He made a blustering sound. “No one is like me. I am the only one of my kind to have bothered to protect humanity. I even saved your world a time or two.”

“I meant, he is as powerful as you.” I waited for him to reply, and when he didn't I sat up, sloshing bubbles and water over the tub's rim. “I have to wash my hair
and rinse off. Go out in the sitting room and wait for me there.”

“It's daylight, and I can't go anywhere,” he grumbled as he floated through the wall and disappeared.

I scrubbed my hair and scalp until all I could smell were roses, and then emptied the tub before filling my rinse bucket with cold water and pouring it over my head and body. I hated cold rinses, and shivered as I dried off and wrapped up my hair, but it woke me up and sharpened my thinking. Harry was right, this was no time to nap.

I pulled on my dressing gown and walked out to the sitting room. “You have to know some way of—” I stopped at the sight of Lady Bestly warming her hands over my stove. “Milady.” I looked about but saw no visible sign of Harry, and then remembered only I or another spirit-born could see him. “I'm sorry to present myself in such a state. I wasn't expecting anyone to call.”

“I would have sent a servant to warn you, but I have only Hartley now and she cannot drive.” Lady Bestly took in the room. “This is a very pleasant home. You must bake bread quite often.”