Mercy Peyton was having hysterics, loudly, and David Peyton was thoughtfully
examining the block of wood on the underside of the overturned table. Madam Zara
searched frantically for something to say that would retrieve the situation. And
just at that moment a large orange cat jumped in through the window from the
alley outside and looked around to see what all the fuss was about. Mrs. Tyrell
snatched him up and hugged him to her with tears of joy in her eyes.
'Marmalade! You've come back to me!'
Madam Zara mentally washed her hands of the whole situation.
Out in the alley, Hawk found Fisher picking herself up out of a pile of garbage.
He started forward to help, and then hesitated as the smell hit him. Fisher
glared at him.
'Next time, you're going to watch the back door.'
She headed quickly for the main street, brushing herself off as she went. Hawk
hurried after her.
'Did you see Fenris?'
'Of course I saw him! Who do you think knocked me into the garbage? And whatever
you're about to say, I don't want to hear it. How was I to know he'd come flying
out of a window? Now, let's move it. He can't be more than a few minutes ahead
of us.'
They pounded down the alley and out into Leech Street. Fenris was halfway down
the street and running well. Hawk and Fisher charged after him. The crowds
turned to watch. Some laughed, a few cheered, and the rest yelled insults and
placed bets. A few up ahead took in Fisher's black cloak and moved to block the
street. Guards weren't much respected in Leech Street. Hawk glared at them.
'We're Hawk and Fisher, city Guard. Get the hell out of the way!'
The crowd parted suddenly before them, falling back on all sides to give them
plenty of room. Fenris glanced back over his shoulder and redoubled his efforts.
Fisher nodded approvingly at the more respectful crowd.
'I think they've heard of us, Hawk.'
'Shut up and keep running.'
Fenris darted down a side alley, and Hawk and Fisher plunged in after him. Hawk
was already breathing hard. Fenris led them through a twisting maze of narrow
streets and back alleys, changing direction and doubling back whenever he could.
Hawk and Fisher stuck doggedly with him, breath burning in their lungs and sweat
running down their heaving sides. Fenris ran through a street market,
overturning stalls as he went, to try and slow them down. Hawk just ploughed
right through the wreckage, with Fisher close behind. Furious stallholders shook
their fists and called down curses on the heads of pursued and pursuers alike.
Hawk's scowl deepened as he ran. Fenris was leading them deep into the rotten
heart of the Northside, but Hawk was damned if he could figure out exactly where
the man was headed. He must have some destination in mind, some bolt-hole he
could hide in, or a friend who'd protect him. Hawk smiled nastily. He didn't
care if the spy ended up in the Hall of Justice, protected by all twelve Judges
and the King himself; Fenris was going to gaol, preferably in chains. It had
become a matter of honor. Not to mention revenge. Hawk hated chases.
And then Fenris rounded a corner at full speed, and darted up an exterior
stairway on a large squat building of stained and patterned stone. Hawk started
after him, but Fisher grabbed him by the arm and brought them both to a sudden
halt. Fenris disappeared through a door into the building. Hawk turned on
Fisher.
'Before you say anything, Hawk. Look where we are.'
Hawk glared around him, and then grimaced, his anger draining quickly away.
Fenris had brought them to Magus Court, home to all the lowlife magicians and
sorcerers in Haven. The place looked deserted for the moment, but that could
change in a second. On the whole, Guards tended to walk very quietly in and
around Magus Court and not draw attention to themselves. Certainly, no one ever
tried to make arrests there without massive support from the Guard, and, if
necessary, the army. Otherwise they'd have been safer playing brass instruments
in a cave full of hibernating bears.
'That's not all,' said Fisher. 'Look whose house he's holed up in.'
Hawk looked, and groaned. 'Grimm,' he said disgustedly. 'All the magic-users
Fenris could have known, and it had to be the sorcerer Grimm.'
He and Fisher leant against the wall at the bottom of the exterior stairway and
grabbed a few minutes' rest while they tried to work out what the hell to do
next. Hawk and Fisher knew Grimm, and he knew them. They'd crossed swords
before, metaphorically speaking, but Hawk and Fisher had never been able to pin
anything on him. People were too scared to talk.
Grimm was a medium-level sorcerer with unpleasant personal habits who
specialized in shape changing. He could do anything from a face-lift to a full
body transformation, depending on the needs, and wealth, of his client. He had
no scruples; he'd do anything, to anyone. Criminals found his services very
useful, either for themselves, to change an appearance that had grown too
well-known, or for taking revenge on their enemies. The Guard had found one
up-and-coming crime boss wandering the streets in the early hours of the
morning, leaving a bloody trail behind him. It took them some time to identify
him. He'd been flayed, every inch of skin removed from head to toe, but he was
still alive, and screaming. He took a long time to die in the main city
hospital, and he only stopped screaming when his voice gave out.
It figured Fenris would know someone like Grimm. All the spy had to do was
acquire a new face and build and he could disappear into the crowds right under
Hawk's and Fisher's noses. On the other hand, they couldn't just go barging in
after him. Grimm was a sorcerer and took his privacy very seriously. Officially,
any Guard could enter any premises in Haven, providing they could demonstrate
good cause in the Courts afterwards. In practice, it all depended on whose home
you were talking about. Having a Court declare you posthumously correct wasn't
much of a comfort, and sorcerers tended to throw spells first and think
afterwards. Constant industrial espionage among magic-users had produced a
general paranoia and split-second reflexes.
'What do you think?' said Hawk finally.
'I think we should think about this very carefully,' said Fisher. 'I have no
desire to spend the rest of my life as a combination of several small,
unpleasant, and very smelly animals. Shapechange sorcerers are renowned for
having a very warped sense of humor. I say we stay put and call for backup.'
'By the time anyone gets here, Fenris will have his new face and we'll have lost
him.'
Fisher scowled. 'Given the alternatives, I say let him go.
It's not as if he was a murderer or something. Hell, Haven's full of spies.
What's one more or less going to make any difference?'
'No,' said Hawk firmly. 'We can't let him go. It would be bad for our
