The Sorcerer's House (38 page)

Martha shouted, "We have to burn this!"

She shouted it, I believe; but I scarcely heard her. I was drawing my big camp knife.

"Wolf lady," Winkle whispered. "Will it work?"

"I don't know," I told her. "Let's see." I tried its edge on Lupine's hair, and Lupine screamed.

"It cuts lovely!"

The edge was still quite sharp, and it did cut with a little muscle behind it, sawing through black hairs that seemed as hard as wires. Leather and fur reek when burned almost as much as feathers. A whiff of their smoke reached me and I began to cough.

That was when the first wolf came bounding out of the trees. I remember the boom of Martha's shot, but almost nothing else. As though by magic, I had the Fox Sword. It cut the wolves like weeds, but the blood that spurted from those cuts was scarlet and hot as fever.

"Hold, friends!" That was Lupine, naked and with half her hair shorn but even so seeming more wolf than woman. "We have them! Ring them!"

We were not exactly surrounded, but our backs were to the water and we were hemmed by the wolves on three sides. Martha held two empty pistols, I the Fox Sword, Toby the camp knife I had dropped, and Winker nothing.

"If we charge them," Lupine told her wolves, "a few more of us will die before we kill the one with the sword. I shall save those lives. Watch!"

Something--a human head--rolled out of the water and came to rest at her feet. "You," Lupine told me, "have seen this already. The rest have not. Want to tell them?" Two rotting arms (one a man's and the other, I believe, a woman's) dragged a torso across the mud toward the head.

Martha said, "You don't have to, my son. I've heard enough about these things to guess the rest." It was the first time she had called me that; I was quite touched.

"I'll soon have half a dozen." Lupine grinned. "Would you like to hear my terms of surrender?"

My cell phone rang as she spoke. I asked her to excuse me and answered it.

"Mr. Baxter Dunn?"

"Speaking," I said.

"This is Nicholas, sir. Your butler."

"Nicholas?"

"The same. I am unable to serve you at present, sir, as I have returned to my trunk."

"I--see . . ."

"Most gratifying, sir. I was, ahhh . . ."

"Yes?"

"Thus confined by my old master, sir. By Mr. Zwart. He, ahhh . . ."

I said, "Please, Nicholas. I'm really quite busy."

"Was assisted by your brother George, sir, and by two ladies. It is galling, sir, to find oneself hemmed by mere women."

"No doubt it is." I was watching Lupine as I spoke; a second walking corpse was assembling itself, no doubt under her direction. I said, "May I ask how you come to have a telephone, Nicholas?" Gray and black werewolves paced to-and-fro, their scarlet tongues lolling, their yellow eyes fixed on us.

"My captivity was a matter of negotiation, sir."

"I see."

"Your brother had a stake, sir. A stake, and an ahh . . ."

"Yes?"

"A sledge, sir. Though for a moment I thought that it might have
been an ax. Either will serve, sir. One drives the stake with the back of the ax."

"I'll keep it in mind."

"The pain is excruciating, sir. Quite excruciating, and it endures until the stake rots away. I declared my intention to resist, sir. To resist, and to exact revenge should I be released."

"Admirable."

"Thank you, sir. I agreed to return to my trunk, provided that I was accorded a telephone with which I might communicate with you, sir, stating my case as it were. One of the ladies proffered hers. Thus the matter was settled without undue acrimony. Since then, however, I have received numerous calls from persons wishing to learn whether there have been offers on their homes."

Martha tapped my shoulder and I said, "I really must go now, Nicholas. Call again tomorrow, if you wish."

"Your brother wishes to kill you as well, sir. Be warned."

"Magic," Martha whispered breathlessly, "is diplomacy. It isn't just saying the words. It's who says them, how he says them, and when he says them."

I nodded.

Lupine shouted, "Give us the woman, the fox, and the dog, and we'll spare you."

I shook my head.

Martha whispered, "Raise both arms. Point that sword at the sun. Repeat what I say loudly and with authority."

Lifting my arms, I nodded.

"
Hewwo tohgodt'keyah wokpah wechoshtah
."

"HewWO! TohGODt'keyah! WokPAH! WeCHOSHtah!" I would have said that I was almost shouting, George, until the final word; but
wechoshtah
emerged as something far greater than a shout. You will not believe me, but a lion might have spoken as I spoke then.

Lupine looked stunned, and one of her wolves howled. I heard the howl before the drum, but I suspect the wolf had heard it before me. Its thudding note was deep and dull, but loud and near.

We had our backs to the river, as I said. Thus we were looking
toward the wooded slope. Lupine stood with her back to the slope, and so did not see a broad, hairy face peer through the leaves. And another.

And another.

One snarled, displaying frightful fangs. Another must have stepped forward at the same time. I did not see it until the wolf it held by one hind leg struck the ground.

It struck it, was raised again, and slammed down as if the huge hairy man who held it were beating the ground with a club. At the second blow, all the wolf-likeness fell away, leaving only a middle-aged man, half conscious and trying (I think) to shield his head.

After that the battle was joined. I remember seeing Winker kick and strike Lupine while Toby buried his teeth in her heel. I remember Martha with a wolf at her throat, and the blue fire of the Fox Sword.

But very little beyond that.

Suddenly, it was over. The dead limbs were only dead limbs. Half a dozen dead men and dead women lay scattered among them, and the remaining wolves had fled. Two of the hairy giants faded back into the forest. The third looked at me, touched his forehead, and followed them.

They are as muscular as gorillas, George, but stand erect, like men. Their height cannot be less than eight feet.

"You have seen the Riverman," Martha told me. "Not many can say that."

I was looking at Lupine. Her nose was streaming blood, and one arm had clearly been broken. Dirty and bruised and naked, she struggled to sit up and would not have been able to sit up if I had not helped her.

"I should have done that," Emlyn said. He had been hiding in the scrub next to the water. He knelt beside Lupine and put his arm around her shoulders.

"Here." It was a second Emlyn, an Emlyn naked to the waist offering his shirt and a stick. "We'd better splint that arm."

"They're not such bad boys, are they?"

I whirled at the sound of a familiar voice. The old man was coming toward us, not leaning on his crutch now, but walking with it as a hiker does with a staff. Sunshine gleamed gold upon its gold head.

Martha said, "Hello, Zwart. We could have used you earlier."

"You would not have had me." He turned to me. "There comes a time when a sorcerer must triumph on his own or die. You have triumphed, son."

I tried to say that I had not, that I would have been killed but for Martha and the Rivermen.

"You used such allies as you had gained. It is what we do."

"I won because my mother helped me."

"The mother who would have died, if you had not won."

Martha nodded, and her hand slipped into mine.

"I greet you as my son, but also as a brother sorcerer. What are we going to do about George?"

The abrupt change of subject disconcerted me, but I managed to say that I saw no need to do anything about you, that you could take care of yourself.

"You have talent. I saw it early, and that's why I gave you this forest. George doesn't. You'll need to be aware of that."

Martha's voice was almost a whisper. "May I come back, darling?"

Zwart turned toward her, smiling. "I've been hoping you would for years."

"I will. Do you want my house, Bax?"

I shook my head; and Zwart laughed, saying, "He has mine already."

"I'm hoping that you'll stay here, where you grew up. At least for a while."

Perhaps I nodded. Winker pressed herself against me.

"I was so afraid of faerie, of warlocks and witches and the ghoul-bears. Of the dragons, and all the rest of it. I had a best friend. Have you ever had a best friend, Bax?"

I know I nodded then. "He's still in prison."

"Mine was Nina O'Brien. She--she's dead. The paper was full of the Horror Hound, and Nina got one paragraph in the obituaries. Just one paragraph. She was crossing the street and she was run down like a dog."

I said something inane.

"There's the Horror Hound over there, that poor girl with the broken
arm and the bloody nose." Martha sighed. "You stay where you grew up until you come to understand it, Bax. Then join us in faerie."

I said I would.

Zwart had gone to speak to Lupine, and Toby had followed him. Martha and I followed him, too, after I finished hugging her.

"She pledged her soul to get that skin," Zwart was telling Emlyn. "Now she has none, and she knows it. Look into her eyes."

"I have," Emlyn said. "Lots of times."

"Many times? So you think. Are you going to try to get it back?"

"If you think I have a chance."

"You will have to do it. I won't help you. It will take a great sorcerer, learned, cunning, and bold."

"I understand, Father."

"Even a great sorcerer may lose his life. Or his soul. You understand that, too, but I felt compelled to tell you just the same. Now here is something you don't understand, although you should. When you get her soul back--I said when, not if--she may pledge it again, for another skin or for something else."

Lupine shook her head, a blood-soaked rag pressed to her nose, her right arm stiff and straight, and bound to the stick Ieuan had brought.

That is all my wonderful news, George. I found our father, who used to be the butler whose presence in my house so greatly disturbed you. I know that you did not find him, that it was as Nick, my elderly butler, that he cornered Nicholas. Cornered him, that is, with your help and that of the "two ladies."

I found our father as I had found our mother already, although I did not have an opportunity to tell you. They have been reunited--more wonderful news, is it not?

Emlyn loves Lupine and will become a sorcerer of great wisdom and power for her sake. What she may become, God only knows.

Ieuan has promised to assist Emlyn, to whom he feels inferior. (Most of his "badness" proceeds from that, I believe.) Zwart tells me he is maturing more slowly, but says, "The weeds shoot up. The acorn's child will tower above their generations."

Nicholas told me you want to kill me, and you had told me the
same thing in your note. I do not believe either of you, George, although you may believe you wrote the truth. When you stand before me holding a pistol (if it comes to that), you will surely realize your mistake. Then you and I will clasp hands as brothers should.

Yours sincerely,

Bax

Dearest Bax,

I have been trying to telephone you, the landline in my apt. I press your number up to the last button, then I realize I have no idea what to say.

Really I have a hundred and know I will try to say all of them at the same time and you will think I am drunk.

Well, maybe I am. I saw Ted, Bax. I was starting to pack and I went out to the kitchen to get plastic bags, and when I came back to my bedroom Ted was sitting on the bed, crying.

I jumped back and shut the door. After that I went back to the kitchen and found an old bottle of tequila and poured myself a shot that damned near knocked my head off. If there had been more in the
bottle, I think I would have emptied it, but that shot had emptied it already. I ran the bottle through the garbage disposal just to have something to do while I got up the nerve to go back to the bedroom.