was hot, for Father Jacob said a most unholy word and dropped the charred and blackened object on the ground and wrung his burned fingers.
The swivel gun turned and fired again, blasting apart the bodies of the demons Dag and the stranger had killed. Within moments the flames had gone out, leaving a large gaping gash in the street and piles of black and greasy ash. The demon on the roof mounted a giant bat and flew off in the direction of the Breath. The fiend had left the swivel gun behind and Dag was just thinking he could at last get a look at the weapon when it blew apart.
The night was still. All of them listened intently, but the only sounds were Miri’s soothing voice and Gythe’s sobs.
“We should get out of here before the constables come,” said Stephano.
“Take your time,” said Dag, picking up the pistols, planning to reload. He limped over to inspect what was left of the bodies.
“But someone must have heard the gunshots-” Stephano began.
“Nothing new, around here,” said Dag. “Trust me, the police won’t be in a hurry to investigate.”
Sir Ander had regained consciousness and was sitting up, ignoring Brother Barnaby’s pleas and remonstrations. The knight looked shaken and pale. Stephano walked over to join Dag, shouting for Rodrigo to bring the lantern.
“Turn around,” Stephano ordered Dag.
When the lantern arrived, Stephano inspected Dag’s back. He looked at the leather coat with the large holes burned through it and shook his head. Dag gingerly removed the breastplate, stifling a groan.
“You look as though you’ve been slow roasted,” said Stephano. “You should go back to the boat.”
“And let Miri slather me with yellow goo?” Dag said, grimacing. “No, thank you, Captain. You’re not in much better shape yourself.”
He pointed to the patch of blood staining Stephano’s pants leg.
“I’d say you need more yellow stuff,” Dag observed.
“I’ll keep quiet if you will,” said Stephano.
“A deal. How is Gythe?” Dag asked.
Stephano shook his head gloomily and ran his fingers through his hair. “She’s more scared than hurt. She keeps telling Miri that the demons were talking to her in the Trondler language. Doesn’t make sense to me, though it seems to make sense to him.”
He jerked his thumb at Father Jacob, who was squatting on the pavement, examining the grisly object he had rescued from the flames.
“What is that he’s got there?” Stephano asked.
“Looks like the head of that demon I shot,” said Dag. “He saved it from the fire. Damn near burned his hand off trying to get it.”
“So now he’s a ghoul,” said Stephano, scowling.
Rodrigo raised the lantern. “What do you have against that man?”
“I don’t trust him. He has secrets-”
“So do we,” Rodrigo pointed out.
“You don’t like him because he’s a priest,” said Dag in accusing tones.
“Oh, just shut up, both of you,” Stephano said irritably. “I’ve been stabbed and shot at by demons today. I don’t need to be lectured.”
Father Jacob put the object he’d recovered in Brother Barnaby’s script, first dumping out the contents. This done, the priest gave the script back to Brother Barnaby with orders to handle it gently, keep it safe.
“How is Sir Ander?” Father Jacob asked the monk.
“He says he is all right,” said Brother Barnaby worriedly. “The wraith did not have time to drain his life. He says the green fire from the demons destroyed the wraith.”
“Of course, it would!” said Father Jacob. “The wraith is a creature of blood magic. The contramagic would put an end to it.”
“Your hand, Father,” said Brother Barnaby, as the priest started to walk off. The priest’s knuckles were burst and bleeding and his fingers were burned.
“I’m fine,” said Father Jacob.
“What was that thing you grabbed out of the fire, Father?” Stephano asked, coming over to join them.
“I’m not sure,” said Father Jacob.
“Looked like the demon’s head,” Stephano said.
The priest shook his own head impatiently and turned to Dag.
“That man who was here,” said Father Jacob. “The tall man. You saved him from the demons. I saw him join the Warlock who sent the wraith to kill Sir Ander. They both disappeared. Did you see which way they went?”
“Down that alley, Father,” said Dag, nodding with his head, while reloading his weapons by the lantern’s light. “Who were they, Father? Did they bring the demons here to kill you?”
“The tall man was not here to kill me, not this time. He was caught in the same ambush. As for the other-”
“The Warlock,” said Sir Ander grimly, walking over to them. He glanced at the smoking remains of the demons. “So the Warlock and the Sorceress are now in league with the Devil. I’m not surprised.”
“I am,” said Father Jacob. “What surprises me is that they know Henry Wallace-”
“Wallace!” Stephano had been listening and he gave a start. “What was that you said? What about Henry Wallace?”
Father Jacob regarded Stephano with interest. “Do you know him?”
“Do you mean Sir Henry Wallace? The Sir Henry Wallace? Are you saying he was here?” Stephano demanded.
“He was the tall man whose life your friend saved.”
Stephano cast Dag a glance.
“How was I to know?” Dag demanded.
“You’re certain it was him, Father?” asked Stephano.
“He is one person I am not likely to forget,” said Father Jacob dryly.
“I came to Westfirth in search of Wallace,” said Stephano. “It is vital that I find him! Can you tell me where he might have gone?”
Father Jacob rested his hand on Stephano’s forearm. “Listen to me, Captain. You are a brave man. You are a fine shot and an expert swordsman. And I say to you that if you see Sir Henry Wallace walking toward you, turn and run as fast as you can. Wallace is a dangerous, a deadly, an implacable foe. Don’t cross him. Don’t meddle in his affairs. If you came here to find him, leave immediately and pray you are not too late. Pray you are gone before he finds you.”
Stephano was startled by the priest’s intensity.
“I thank you, Father,” said Stephano, uncomfortable. “I will take your warning to heart. But it is important that I find this man.”
Father Jacob glanced at Sir Ander. Stephano knew what they were thinking, that he was here on business of the countess. He could almost hear his mother’s name resonating between the two of them, and he smoldered with anger.
“If you know of any way to locate him, Father,” Stephano said coldly. “I would take it as a great favor. And if Wallace does kill me, I absolve you of any responsibility.”
Dag looked shocked. Even Rodrigo was mildly taken aback. Sir Ander only smiled, however, and said something quietly to Father Jacob.
“I see,” said Father Jacob. “I suppose you are right.” He turned to Stephano. “I do not know where Sir Henry is and even if I did, I doubt he will be there long. He knows I recognized him. I pose a serious threat to him and whatever nefarious scheme he is plotting.”
Seeing Stephano look downcast, Father Jacob smiled; albeit gravely. “If you insist, I can devise a means for you to track him. Wallace was carrying a leather satchel that was destroyed during the fight. He seemed very attached to it. Hand me that light.”
He took the lantern from Rodrigo and flashed it around on the cobblestones. “Pick up those bits of burnt
