Simon ripped the homunculus from his back with a steely grip and held it at arm’s length. His other arm pulled back and he slammed a rock-hard fist into the creature’s face. Bones crushed beneath the blow. Kate grabbed her short sword and stabbed the blade in deep at the lower back of the homunculus. It screamed and arched.
Simon picked the horrible body up and heaved it over Kate’s head, where it crashed into the chained creature in the corner. The second thing had one eye bulging out farther than the other and its naked torso was covered with surgical cuts stitched together. Internal organs were visible, pulsating and contracting under near-translucent skin. The skull was still covered with the tattered remains of long, flaxen hair. It had once been a woman. She fell upon her weakened brother with incredible savagery. The two creatures screamed at one another, each one clawing at the other. Finally, the terrible woman tore the head off the homunculus with a victorious shriek and threw it across the room to tumble at Malcolm’s feet. There was a sizzle as the homunculus melted into a puddle of desiccated ooze. A tangle of mechanical gears and metal rose out of the goo, but the woman fell upon that as well, scattering it like an angry child slapping at toys.
The three humans backed out of the cell. As Malcolm shut the bolt, they heard a high-pitched wail from inside.
“Kill me!” It sounded vaguely human. “I beg you!”
“Oh my God,” whispered Kate.
Simon kept a firm hand on her elbow and pulled her down the hall. “We have to move.”
“But …”
“She’s already dead,” Malcolm said. “We don’t have time to waste. Somebody might have heard that fracas.”
The former woman’s plea followed after them, picked up and repeated from other cells. Inside the open doors they passed, wretched figures crawled or huddled in thankfully dark corners. Their pace quickened as they turned left into the final hallway, ending at a door with a grated window. Beyond it was one of the great airing grounds, where patients were allowed to enjoy the outdoors.
The last cell before the end of the hall was also open, and Kate glanced inside against her will. She didn’t see a horrific patient but rather something else. She stuck her head farther inside. It was a much larger chamber than the patient cells. Massive iron cauldrons sat in the corners and a great table commanded the center of the room. On the table was an alchemical apparatus that put Kate’s lab at Hartley Hall to shame. It was a complicated network of beakers and glass tubes, hoses and reservoirs, all ending in a spigot that dripped liquid into a wooden barrel. Several similar barrels were stacked against one wall. The stench of the ghostbloom mushroom was unmistakable. They smelled of decay and earthy loam.
“Here it is,” Kate said.
Simon joined her at the door to the cell. He whistled in admiration for the alchemical factory.
“They reduce the ghostbloom in those vats and process the residue into wulfsyl, which they drip out into barrels. Incredible. It’s like a factory.”
Malcolm clucked at them from the corridor. He stood by the door at the end of the hall. He pointed through the window grate which allowed Kate and Simon a view of a large garden surrounded by a high wall, surmounted with cheval de frise, a definite impediment to patients with its spikes.
Even though the hour was very late, there were patients milling about outside. To Kate’s surprise, there were even children, at least five young boys playing with a ball and a cherublike young girl with blond hair playing idly with a doll. All of them were dressed in ragged and worn clothes.
Kate’s expression changed to one of curiosity. “Why are they outside?”
“They’re werewolves,” Malcolm said calmly.
“What?” Kate remained focused on the children, trying to ignore the agonies behind them. “All of them?”
Simon crowded the small window. “How do you know?”
“I’ve seen that girl before. And there’s that.” Malcolm nodded to the far left, where at least ten hulking werewolves stalked the shadows under the wall. One beast strode right between the children, who hardly blinked, although the girl regarded it a bit cautiously, turning away abruptly to stare at the door. Kate swore they locked eyes before Malcolm shoved her out of the way.
“Blast it!” He pulled his pistols. “Get ready.”
Chapter Twenty
Then nothing happened. No werewolves burst through the door. They breathed a sigh of relief. They hadn’t been seen.
Malcolm jammed the pistols in the holsters. “Let’s get this bloody thing done before we’re rooted out.”
Simon went back to the processing cell. He waved them inside before closing the door and turning up the gas fixture on the wall. Malcolm stuffed the space under the door with straw to prevent light spilling out.
“Hurry, Kate,” Simon urged.
Kate reached into her satchel and pulled out the vials of botanical poison. Her hand hesitated. She said quietly, “I didn’t expect there to be children.”
“They’re not children,” was Malcolm’s sharp retort. “They’re beasts.”