Hunter's Moon (26 page)

All at once, a howl filled the air, and a grey wolf raced straight into the melee and, faced with the snarling beast, the police instantly fell back. I saw the wolf's eyes only for an instant as she dashed past me, but I knew instantly that it was Olga, transformed into her wolf-shape. And then her snarl was answered by another as a small white wolf rose from the ground where Verakina had fallen. Clearly she had now learnt how to transform at will, like Olga. She leaped for the throat of the rat-faced man,
who screamed and scrambled away from her, fleeing for his life.

He wasn't the only one to run. The leader might blow his whistle all he liked but the men had not bargained for wolves and had no intention of staying to have their throats ripped out. One after another, they took to their heels until only the leader was left and then, taking one look at Andel advancing on him with a captured truncheon in each hand, a gleam in his eye, and a grey wolf at his heels, he too decided discretion was the better part of valour, and fled. Verakina and Olga went after him, making sure he'd not turn back, and then they returned instants later, no longer in wolf-shape but human once more.

Panting, breathless, we looked at each other, exhausted but exultant. We'd done it! The five of us had won against at least six times as many policemen!

But there was no time to linger on our victory.

‘If the police were here, it is because our escape has already been discovered,' said Rafiel, voicing our thoughts.

‘Yes, but how did they know we were here?' Olga asked, frowning.

‘I doubt they did. I think that there would have been men sent to each exit from the city and every way of escape: the port, the railway stations, the coach stops. That is what I would do if I were in charge of recapturing escaped prisoners,' said Rafiel, grimly.

‘So wherever we run, they'll be waiting,' Andel said.

‘Yes.'

‘We're trapped, then!' cried Verakina.

‘No. There is a way other than running,' said Rafiel.

‘Yes. You will have to stay in the city and hide,' said Olga.

‘No,' said Rafiel. ‘They would find us sooner or later.' His eyes met mine, and I saw what was in his mind. I nodded. It was time.

‘You have been the kindest of friends,' I said, looking at Andel and Olga. ‘But it is time we stopped running, stopped hiding, and faced Belladonna.'

‘What?' burst out Olga. ‘The witch will kill you at once!'

‘Olga's right. This is madness,' said Andel. ‘I'll go back to Lady Grandmother,' cried Olga. ‘I'll beg her to help –'

‘It will do no good,' I said. ‘You know that, Olga.'

‘Then we will come with you,' said Andel.

‘No. You and Olga have done more than enough for us,' said Rafiel. ‘And you have a child to think of, waiting for you back at the inn. This is not your fight.'

‘We will not abandon you –' began Olga.

‘And you won't be,' I said, ‘if you do something very important for us.' A sudden thought had come to mind – of Lady Helena, convinced that something was not quite right with the automata, but unable to prove it. I hadn't even considered it before – but could we convince her to help us? ‘And that is to go to Lady Helena – the Duke's sister – and tell her everything. She sees through Belladonna, I am sure of it, and she can sense that there is something not quite right with the automata. She fears Belladonna's influence on the Duke.'

Rafiel nodded, his expression lightening. ‘Lady Helena has her own detachment of soldiers who are completely
loyal to her. If she can be persuaded to move against the witch, then we may have a chance.'

‘If that is what you want, then we will do it,' said Olga.

And after clasping our hands, briefly, she and Andel hurried off.

‘We have to give them time to reach Lady Helena's house,' Rafiel said, ‘but we can't wait here – those policemen will soon raise the alarm. There's only one way we can get to where we want without running into a street patrol.'

‘What way is that?' I asked.

‘The railway tunnels,' he said. ‘Come on!'

We hurried through the station, past the turnstiles, down the stairs onto the platform area, and ran to the far end of the platform until the end. Jumping onto the tracks, we headed towards the mouth of the tunnel a short distance away.

‘I hope there's no train due yet,' murmured Verakina, at my elbow, as we followed Rafiel. ‘If one comes, we have nowhere to go …' For the tunnel was dark and narrow and as we went further and further inside, the point of light that was the platform at the far end receded more and more so that soon we were in the pitch dark. Rafiel lit a match, and waited for us to catch up.

‘Stay close behind me,' he said to us, ‘and don't worry. I know the way. I've tracked men through here before.'

If he had, then other policemen might have too, I thought. Any moment I expected to hear the thump of a policeman's boots or the rumble of an approaching train. But I didn't voice my worries; instead I focused on following the matches he lit, one after the other, as we advanced slowly through the musty tunnel.

Oh, if only I could have forced that old mule of a feya to help us! Truly help us, not merely awaken a useless memory of last time I'd seen her. For what was the point of making me relive that, unless it was to drive home how stupid I'd been, running from Rafiel and rushing towards Lucian?

On the tunnel went, and on we stumbled through it. Suddenly, ahead, I saw a pinprick of light.

‘A train coming!' I called.

‘No,' said Rafiel, gently, ‘it's only the daylight. The tunnel ends there – that is what you are seeing.'

‘Then what?' said Verakina.

‘We'll be coming out into a cutting and will have to climb out of it. Just a short distance from there is the headquarters of the Special Police. That's where we're going.'

‘What?' I cried. ‘Why on earth would we go there, and not to Belladonna's?'

‘I've been thinking. The head of the Special Police takes orders directly from the Duke,' he said, calmly, ‘and I think the Duke will be there to oversee the search. And if he's there, then she will she be, too. Belladonna has to keep an eye on what the Duke is doing, if she wants
to be sure nothing goes wrong this time. Remember, it was from the Duke's prison that we escaped, not from hers, and it was the Duke's guard who gave us the chance to attack Drago and escape.'

‘That is, if she believed that's what happened,' I objected.

‘It doesn't matter if she did or not,' he said, as we emerged blinking from the tunnel. ‘We were going to be tried, remember. She had already convinced the Duke that we were dangerous criminals. Our escape would prove that to him. Even if she had her doubts about what happened, she'd know that there would be no way she could convince him
not
to launch a full-scale search – and a full-scale search is exactly what's going to make it difficult for her to try to find us in secret, and arrange more of her lies. No, I think Belladonna is there, making sure she knows exactly how the search is going, so that she can think quickly when we are brought in. But we can use that to our advantage. It will be good for us if she's there, because it means it that she will see us – the Duke will see us – in public. She cannot dare risk using that paralysis spell again, not there. Even the Duke cannot believe you are an escaped automaton the second time.'

‘Rafiel?' I said.

He turned and smiled at me. ‘Yes?'

‘I just wanted to say that I … that I am glad we found each other again,' I said.

‘And I am glad too,' he said. And though we used no endearments and did not kiss or touch each other, our eyes spoke thrilling promises and what flowed between us was like a shield of strength against anything that would come between us.

As we neared the top of the cutting, the first train passed below us in a clatter of iron and a hiss of steam. From the summit, we could see the city spread out below. A childhood memory came to me, of my father hoisting me onto his shoulders and showing me the city panorama from the roof terrace of the Lepmest Ladies' Fair store.

I had hardly thought of him since I had discovered the basement where Drago concocted Belladonna's terrifying life-essence extractions. Yet now I could see him, clear as a bell, with that tender lilt in his voice, whispering, ‘I am with you, my darling. I will always be with you.'

Rafiel saw my expression. ‘Are you all right?' he asked.

‘Yes,' I said. And oddly, I was. Hearing my father's voice had not saddened me, it had given me renewed heart. ‘Where are we going?'

‘There,' he said, pointing down at a great grey building taking up a whole city block. He looked at me, then at Verakina. ‘You have to let me do the talking; don't be surprised by what I say or do.' We nodded.

We understood what he'd meant a short time later, when we arrived in front of the police headquarters. Close up, the building looked even bigger than it had from the hill: big and forbidding, with small windows set into grey stone. Two large, black-uniformed men with big shotguns slung across their chests, stood at the top of the steps by the front door and watched expressionlessly as we approached.

‘Sergeant Goran bringing in witnesses for interview over an assault on an officer,' Rafiel said in a calm voice to the men, showing them his badge, as he motioned us up the steps. ‘Me, that is,' he said, showing them his bruised face.

Verakina and I exchanged a startled glance. Why didn't the guards recognise us? Wouldn't the men be on alert against us?

Apparently not, for one of them said, in a roughly joshing sort of tone, ‘These ladies beat you up, Goran? You're slipping, my friend.'

‘They're the
witnesses
,' said Rafiel, in the same tone, ‘I told you. But you should see the fellow who did it. If his own mother recognises him, it'll be a fair miracle.'

‘Just as well, or your reputation would take a beating, too,' said the man, laughing, and he stepped aside to let us pass.

‘How did you know that would work?' I whispered, as we walked into the entrance hall.

‘I didn't. I just gambled on the idea that they think we've run and that the last thing we'd do is come here. I doubt that our names have been released even to the search parties. Just descriptions. And not even that to rank-and-file people like the guards and clerks.'

So saying, he approached the end of the lobby where three or four uniformed policewomen were busy at a long desk. ‘Sergeant Rafiel Goran, with important witnesses for the Commander,' he said.

The woman looked at him. ‘The Commander is in closed conference. He cannot –'

‘He'll want to hear these witnesses, I guarantee it,' interrupted Rafiel.

She looked at him. Shrugged. ‘Oh, very well,' she said. She reached for the little telegraph machine on the desk and tapped out rapid words. ‘There. Now you'll have to wait till they –'

She broke off as suddenly the double doors behind her burst open and the lobby filled with black-uniformed men, their weapons trained at our hearts as they surrounded us.

‘Get down on your knees! Now!' came the shout from the leading officer.

We obeyed. We had no other option. As three men approached and handcuffed us where we knelt, I glimpsed the shocked, horrified expressions on the faces of the women at the desk, and knew that we were at the point of no return.

We were dragged up and marched off, each of us surrounded by five or six men. They were not taking any chances that we'd escape again. Through the double doors we went, down a long corridor, until we reached some stairs. Up we were shepherded, one after the other, and then marched to the end of another long corridor, and to another set of double doors. A knock, and then we were dragged in, Rafiel first, then Verakina, then me, half-hidden at the back.

We had been taken to a large conference room. And there they were, sitting at a table. The Duke, backed by six impassive men in the uniform of his personal guard; a man whose uniform and insignia of rank clearly indicated he must be Commander of the Special Police; another man, standing, whose uniform and insignia showed he was from the City Police and whose crestfallen expression clearly showed he'd just received a severe dressing down for the debacle at the Grand Dome Station; Lucian, sitting alone at one end of the table, huddled in on himself, and looking as though he'd aged ten years; Drago, standing pale and impassive; and Belladonna.

The duke was first to speak. ‘So, you're giving yourself up, are you?' he boomed, addressing Rafiel. ‘You think that will get you some clemency, I suppose.'

‘No, your grace. We are not giving ourselves up,' said Rafiel steadily. ‘We might have been miles away by now, and not one of you could have stopped us.'

‘How dare you speak thus! Vermin! Traitor!' shouted the Commander of the Special Police.

‘How dare you, you traitorous vermin!' echoed the Commander of the City Police, not to be outdone.

‘Quiet, both of you,' said the Duke in an irritated voice, and they subsided. He looked at Rafiel, his curiosity sparked. ‘So
why
didn't you run?'

‘Because, your grace,' I said, moving from behind the ranks of police, ‘you have to know the truth, or we can never be safe – none of us, and no-one in Noricia.'

For an instant, everyone stared at me in stunned astonishment, except Belladonna, though I saw her eyes flicker, as though in shock. Hidden at the back of the group of policemen, she hadn't known I was there. Her shock heartened me a little.

A policeman moved to haul me back but Belladonna held up a hand. ‘No, let her be,' she said, quietly.

She leaned towards the Duke and spoke into his ear. He listened. Nodded.

‘Get out, you,' he ordered, waving at the policemen. ‘Yes, you too,' he added, glaring at the two commanders.

‘But your grace,' squeaked the Commander of the Special Police, ‘these are dangerous crimi–'

‘I said to get out!' he repeated, in an exasperated tone. ‘Drago and my guardsmen will do the job well enough. Now do as I say.'

They obeyed, filing out in rather bad grace.

‘Good,' said the Duke. ‘Now lock the door, Drago. We don't want to be disturbed.' Turning to Belladonna, he said, ‘You are quite right, my dear Belladonna. Too much fuss with those fools around. Now, where were we?'

‘I care little if I am thought to be a traitor,' said Rafiel, before I could speak, ‘but Lady Bianca Dalmatin who stands before you is an innocent victim of –'

‘Do you think I am a fool?' roared the Duke, making everyone start. ‘This is not Bianca Dalmatin! This is an impostor, and you know it!'

Of all the things we might have expected, this was not it. For an instant, all we could do was stare at him with our mouths open.

‘Ha!' he said, triumphantly. ‘You didn't think we knew, did you?'

‘But your grace,' I stammered, finding my voice at last, ‘how can you possibly believe that I am both an automaton and an impostor?'

‘Eh?' he replied. ‘What are you talking about?'

He is a stupid man, I thought. ‘Last time you saw me,' I hurried on, ‘you were led to believe that the figure you saw wasn't real, that it wasn't really me, that it was an automaton –'

‘You are mad as well as wicked, girl,' interrupted the Duke, ‘if you think that you can pull the wool over my eyes! There is an automaton that looks just like Lady Bianca Dalmatin, I agree. I saw it with my own eyes. But it is a mere machine. An invention of my Lady Belladonna's.'

‘If that's so,' burst out Verakina, ‘if it really is just a machine, it should still be in the exhibition room. Ask her to show it to you and prove it is an automaton. Ask her.'

‘Drago, perhaps we should bring the policemen back in here, and lock them up before they spin any more lies. There's no need to check the hall,' said Belladonna, hastily, the tension showing in her hands clenched on the table. ‘No need to disturb yourself, no need at all –'

‘Belladonna,' said the Duke, in a bewildered tone, ‘is this true?'

‘It is, your grace,' she said, quietly. ‘The machine that you saw – it is no longer there.' Her voice shook as she went on. ‘The truth is that I … I decided that I could not bear it to be on public display. It brought back too many memories.'

‘So … where is it?' asked the Duke. There was a guarded expression in his eyes now. Were we at last shaking his belief in Belladonna?

‘I had it destroyed,' she said, quietly, her eyes on him. Bright eyes. So bright, so blue, so intense. She reached over to touch his hand, and …

I opened my mouth to shout a warning, but I was too late. The Duke's glance had gone hazy.

He murmured in a voice quite unlike his own, ‘I am sorry you destroyed it. Such a clever piece! But I understand why you felt you had to. A woman's scruples. My own sister – she did not like it.'

‘Lady Helena was right, of course,' said Belladonna. She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. ‘My poor stepdaughter is dead, and I have to learn to accept that, as I have to learn to accept the fact of my poor husband's murder. But what makes it doubly hard is the notion that people like these might try to use these tragedies for their own twisted ends.'

My heart was racing, my belly twisting with rage. ‘Your grace,' I said, ignoring Belladonna and looking straight at the Duke. ‘Listen to me. I am Bianca Dalmatin, and this woman, my stepmother, has stolen everything from me. My father. My home. My trust. My very life she has tried to take not once, but several times. Please, your grace, you must listen. You must –'