Callan smirked, clearly amused by the story.
Rochester noticed, too, because he said, “Before the Eternal Night, if anyone had told people that vampires and witches were real, they would’ve smirked too. If they could be wrong then, why can’t we be wrong now?”
Callan’s smirk faded.
I considered mentioning my run-in with the Korriganes, nine Celtic fairies with deadly breath that used the air around them to change shape, but now didn’t seem like the right time.
“I’ll see if I can find your thief,” I said.
Callan started to choke and I gave his back a powerful whack.
“That’s excellent news. Thank you kindly.” Rochester hiked up his trousers. “If you’ll pardon me, I need to relieve myself. My bladder’s like a bucket with a hole in it these days.”
Once he was out of earshot, Callan turned his attention to me. “You can’t be serious.”
“Why not? These people need help. What kind of knight would I be if I abandoned them in their hour of need?”
“Hour of need?” he scoffed. “Don’t you think that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”
“I know it’s hard for you to imagine given your privileged lifestyle, but people in this village will likely die within the next six months if we don’t recover their livestock.”
The vampire’s gaze drifted to the half-eaten loaf of bread. “Do you have time to spare for this? What about the berserkers?”
“I can handle both.” The villagers’ need was more pressing. They relied on each other for sustenance and the livestock took time to grow and fatten. If the thief continued to operate, the entire village would starve.
“I certainly wasn’t expecting all this when I followed you to Paddington.”
“Serves you right.”
Rochester returned to the table. “I’ll have my wife, Mary, fix you a meal before you start your search.”
“Could you also give us directions to Bramblemoor?” I asked. “We were told she might have room for us to stay the night.”
Rochester tugged his beard. “Don’t think she will. I hear her place is full of traveling musicians this week.”
I cut a glance at Callan. “We can drive to Exeter tonight and find a place there.”
“Nonsense,” Rochester interrupted. “I’ll ask Nina to make up the beds at her place. Much better than anything Exeter has to offer. I’d offer you our spare room, but we’ve got someone staying there.”
“A lodger?” I asked.
Rochester averted his gaze. “Not exactly. Just someone in need of a place to recuperate. Kind of a strange story.”
I cut a quick glance at Callan. “Is your guest a werewolf by any chance?”
Rochester’s eyelashes fluttered with surprise. “What makes you ask that?”
I felt my excitement rise. “Would it be possible for me to speak with him?”
Rochester looked from me to Callan. “I don’t know. What is it you want to ask him?”
“It’s about the storm,” I said. “Is he coherent?”
“His speech is slower, but otherwise, sure.”
I persuaded Rochester to let us speak to him while supper was being prepared.
“See?” I told Callan on our way to Rochester’s house. “Not such a detour after all, is it?”
“We’re not far from where the rivers converge. It makes sense that one or two would’ve made it as far as Mirth.”
Mary greeted us at the front door. She was a slender woman with surprisingly muscular arms, no doubt due to the physical labor she regularly performed. It couldn’t be easy for her.
She gave us each a hard look. “My husband says you’re going to find our thief. Good.” She turned swiftly. “This way. I’ll take you to Mulberry.”
“That’s his name?” I asked.
“That’s what we call him. Found him near death by a mulberry bush. Says he doesn’t have a name.” She opened a door at the back of the house. “Mulberry, you have visitors.” She ushered us in and closed the door behind us, leaving us alone with the mysterious guest.
He was tucked under a white sheet in a twin bed. His hair was long and shaggy and someone had attempted to shave his face but appeared to give up partway. His brown eyes regarded us warily.
Instinctively I lowered myself to a chair so as not to tower over him. “My name is London and this is Mr. Lincoln.”
Callan kept his distance, leaning against the door with his arms folded. He seemed uncertain.
The man grunted.
“Can you talk?” I asked.
He nodded. “They call me Mulberry.”
“But you don’t know your name?”
“Never had one,” he said, choosing each word with care.
I decided to cut to the chase. “Is it because you’ve spent your life in wolf form until recently?”
His gaze darted to Callan before returning to me.
“It’s okay,” I assured him. “We’re not here to hurt you. We only want to understand what happened.”
“Don’t know,” he said. “There was a storm. We sought shelter. Afterward we headed for our usual spot near the rivers, but…” He trailed off.
“You were in wolf form during the storm?” I asked.
He nodded.
“And how long afterward?” Callan prompted.
“Not sure. Couple days, I think. Storm caught us by surprise. We were farther from home than we would’ve liked. I didn’t make it. Woke up here instead.”
“Are you certain?” The timing seemed critical.
He nodded again.
“Do you happen to recall seeing people with marks on their foreheads?”
His brow creased. “Marks?”
“The image of an eye.” I pointed to my forehead. “Here.”
“The moors. The place where the ponies gather.”
“Thank you. That’s helpful.”
“What about the rest of you?” Callan asked. “Where are they now?”
Mulberry sank deeper beneath the sheet, the weight of his sadness seemed to drag him down. “Don’t know.”
“Have you shifted back to wolf form since you discovered your human form?” I asked.
Mulberry blinked at me, uncertain.
I resumed a standing position. “Give it a try when you feel up to it. I know it might seem scary, but you should be able to control the transformations now.” If Mulberry was more comfortable living his life as a wolf, there was nothing to stop him. “It was nice to meet you. Good luck with everything.”
I started toward the door.
“Full moon tonight,” he said.
I glanced over my shoulder at him. “Are you sure?”
He closed his eyes. “A wolf always knows.”
10
The air was thick with fog as we made our way across the moors in the jeep. We rode with the lights on low so as not to draw attention, although there was nothing we could do about the sound of the motor.
“As if we needed the world to be even darker,” I muttered.
Callan grinned at me. “What’s the matter, brave knight? Afraid of the dark?”
“Look at this place. I bet it’s crawling with monsters.”
“You seem to forget you travel with the most dangerous monster of all.” His fangs glimmered in the dim light.
I hadn’t forgotten. Not even for a second.