The Shadow Revolution

“And you’re sure it’s safe for the staff? The gamekeepers walk these paths frequently.”

 

 

Simon smiled mysteriously, wiping his perspiring brow. “It will only be triggered by some being of unnatural composition, such as a homunculus or werewolf. Every type of occult being has aether traces on it of a peculiar type. Obviously I can’t know all those mystic signatures, but I can manage enough to encompass the creatures we’ve already run across. Hopefully none of your gamekeepers are homunculi or werewolves.”

 

“No.” Kate slowly slid her foot over the circle in the dirt. “I can’t vouch for Hogarth, though. What happens when a homunculus comes near it?”

 

“He will explode.” Simon laughed loudly.

 

She eyed him critically. “You seem a tad tipsy this morning.”

 

“Your scotch is safe! I promise.” Simon placed a hand over his heart dramatically, but at seeing her mood was less inclined, he made an effort at sobriety. “What you see is an annoying consequence of excessive aether drain. It will pass. Unfortunately, these wards are only temporary. This rough clay tablet is not the best tool, but I haven’t time for proper inscription to protect an estate of such size. However, I can renew them as needed.”

 

Kate patted the wolfhound. “Thank you. If you can spare a moment, you are needed at the house.”

 

Simon grew serious. “Something wrong with your sister?”

 

“No. Your friend, Mr. Barker, has returned unexpectedly. And he’s brought someone with him.”

 

Simon hurried with Kate along the path until sprawling Hartley Hall rose up before them. They walked side by side through the fading autumn garden, past hedgerows and statues. Groundskeepers with rakes watched them pass. Kate led the way to the rear of the house and a gracious room called the Blue Room. She opened the French doors and entered with Simon on her heels.

 

Nick sat near the fire, holding a cup. He grinned, regarding Simon’s mud-covered clothes. “Well, there you are, squire. Sorry to intrude on your new bucolic way of life with my city problems.”

 

“I apologize for not rushing back to London in the three days since I nearly lost my life. Oh, and by the way, we managed to kill that creature. What have you accomplished in the interim?”

 

Nick jerked his thumb to his right. “Found this.”

 

Malcolm stood in the corner as quiet as a shadow and just as grim. “We have business.”

 

“You seem to be everywhere.” Simon’s voice was cold. He noticed Kate’s surprised glance between the two men. It wasn’t difficult to detect the obvious, personal chill in the room. Simon felt his wet clothes now with miserable discomfort. The dour face of the Scotsman annoyed him with its simple assuredness. He ground out, “I owe you an apology, Mr. MacFarlane.”

 

The Scotsman continued to stare without great expectation.

 

“Brace yourself,” Simon said with grave importance. “It seems there is a second werewolf in London after all.”

 

Malcolm raised a tired eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.

 

Simon feigned extreme distress. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you to sleep with that news.”

 

“Brace yourself. There is an army of werewolves in London. And they are under the command of one of the vilest monsters to ever walk our Earth: Gretta Aldfather.”

 

Blood drained from Simon’s face and cold seeped into his limbs. Even Kate gave a sharp gasp of recognition. He cleared his throat to recover his voice. “How do you know this?”

 

“I had been tracking one of the beasts in the Rookery and found a den where twenty or so of the creatures were holed up.”

 

“Twenty!” Simon exclaimed. “Werewolves? Together? Are you sure?”

 

Malcolm ignored the incredulity in the man’s voice. “I could tell many of them were fresh to their condition. Wulvers, they’re called. They don’t have firm control of their transformations, and they’re not at full strength. Still, in a pack they’re dangerous enough for all that, and I thought it alarming. Until I saw Gretta; then I knew it was so much worse. I saw her once in Russia years ago. It’s her without question. The only positive about her being here is that she may kill off the other primes. I saw her kill one and a few of his allies. There can only be one leader, and she is it.”

 

“Jesus God.” Simon leaned on the hearth, seeking Nick’s experienced gaze for support. “What do you think we should do?”

 

“Do?” Nick held out his hand to the fire. “Nothing. If we fight Gretta Aldfather, we’re dead. Everyone else has been.”

 

“That’s hardly inspiring stuff.”

 

“I’m only trying to inspire you to not fight her.” A mix of anger and fear crossed Nick’s features.

 

Kate clutched her hands together, standing alone in the middle of the room. “Is this the monster who was after Imogen?”

 

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