The same instinct prompted her to run to the other side of the room and duck behind the curtains; she did it just in time, because a few seconds later the door opened and two men entered with heavy footsteps. Elysia recognized the voices, as one belonged to the earl and the other to the wizard.
"Damn! Voorman; I thought you said your chains would hold them like a demon's claws. How can they have disappeared?
"The spells weren't broken, because I would have sensed it. I suspect they used more ordinary means. Perhaps one of your men…"
"Are you suggesting that one of my men might be in cahoots with these beings?"
"Or one of your servants. They live here all year. Who knows? Lycans have lived on this land longer than you, and they say that the people of this area used to worship them, or at least offer sacrifices to them."
"Perhaps perhaps. But can you find the prisoners? There's no way they could have vanished into thin air. And what about my men? More than half are dead, and the other half have gone mad with fear, and are startled even if they see a mere shadow. You'd better do something soon, mage, or you'll have to explain yourself to the Magistrate. Things are not going the way you promised they would."
"Don't panic, Excellency. My magic will prevail, and our cause will be strengthened by it. The Era of Changes is coming, and you and I will have managed to exercise a part of Luzbel's blessing. We will be immortal and invulnerable."
"Perhaps, but for now at least one of the beasts is loose within these walls, or maybe two, if you're wrong about the girl."
"No matter. The transmutation spell is at hand, and soon the final victory will be ours. I'll go get our container."
"You're going to fetch our vessel, aren't you, wizard? Most likely you are planning a betrayal. Be careful! The Magistrate gave me the means to confront you should you prove disloyal to the Order!" There was a metallic clink as a weapon was drawn.
"Put her away, count." The wizard seemed nervous. "You don't know the power of a thing like that. There will be no need to use it."
"Make sure it is so, Voorman; make sure it is."
The door opened and closed again, and Elysia heard the highborn drop into a chair. For an instant, she wondered what that Order was. Who would this mysterious Magistrate be? Most likely, the head of some terrible cult. She then dismissed those thoughts, since he had other things to worry about.
She pushed the curtain aside and saw the earl's bald head, and a dagger lying on her desk before him. It was covered in strange glowing runes; trying to trace the lines of the characters made her eyes ache. Despite that, the dagger might come in handy.
The highborn rubbed his neck as he felt the cold draft from the window behind him, then started to reach for the dagger, but Elysia leaped from her hiding place to slam the hilt into Earl Rothgar's head. of the sword, and he fell like a felled tree.
Carefully, Elysia reached out a hand for the dagger, her skin prickled as it moved closer to the blade. Dangerous energy radiated from the object, and picking it up by the hilt she realized it was coated in an opaque metal: lead. She realized that before that moment she had seen a glow similar to that of the gun.
Apparently, manastone had been used to create it, and it could be as dangerous to the wielder as it was to the victim. She found the sheath from which the earl had taken it, and saw that it was lined with lead. Elysia felt a little better after sheathing it.
For an instant, she considered throwing the dagger aside, but only for an instant. In this hellish place, she might be the only protection she would have, so she strapped her scabbard to her belt and started to leave.
♦ ♦ ♦
Three servants were dead in the kitchen, and they, too, had their throats ripped out. It seemed that the werewolf was determined to murder everyone in the house, and Elysia had no doubt that she would be included in the reckoning.
The spectacle of the corpses nearly made Elysia lose her appetite, but only just. On the table she had found fresh bread and cheese, and from the pantry she took out beef, which she began to gobble up greedily; she found it to be the best food she had ever tasted in her entire life.
The door opened and two wild-eyed men entered, looking at the corpses; then they looked at her, and her eyes filled with fear. Elysia reached out a hand for the sword that rested on the table.
"You have killed them" said one of them while pointing an accusing finger at her.
"Don't be stupid," Elysia said, her words muffled by the bread and cheese filling her mouth. "They've had their throats ripped out," she continued after swallowing. "It was the beast. My claws aren't strong enough to do that."
The men were stunned. They seemed too scared to attack her, and at the same time they felt a fear-fueled anger.
"Have you seen her?" one asked her at last, and she nodded.
"What it's like?"
"Great! Head of a wolf, body of a man."
An eerie howl echoed through the halls, and she began to draw closer. The men turned to dash through the door into the courtyard, and as they did so, lean gray shapes leapt at them, knocking them down. The wolves had been waiting, silent, outside.
Elysia started to run, but she was too late to help the men, and looking out, she saw that the gate to the keep was open again. Someone who seemed to be the girl was near her and had her head thrown back in a gesture that seemed to indicate that she was laughing.
Hastily, she closed the door and bolted it. She was trapped, but at least the being she had howled at was then no closer than she was before her, so she sat back at the table, determined to finish her food.
♦ ♦ ♦
Once again, Elysia slipped cautiously down the corridors, sword in one hand and gleaming dagger in the other. She had sat in the kitchen for as long as she could manage while fear settled in her gut. In the end, she had thought it a better idea to go out and meet her fate head-on than to stand still like a frightened cat.
She entered a great hall with a high ceiling, from which hung banners bearing the emblem of Earl Rothgar. The heads of many animals, hunting trophies, covered the walls: inside the room were two characters. One was the wizard, Voorman, and the other was the werewolf. The latter was monstrous; he towered over Frey's height, and his chest was thicker than a barrel. Huge claws topped his long arms, and undying hatred gleamed in his red wolf eyes.
"You came as I knew you would," the wizard said, and at first Elysia wondered how she knew the wizard she was there, though then she realized that Voorman was talking to the werewolf.
"And you are going to die."
Her lips, not made for human speech, pounded out the words. The mage stepped back, cloak billowing in the air, and light flared around the staff he held. The werewolf stood motionless for a moment, then reached out with one of his massive paws and ripped Voorman's head off. The mage's body stumbled forward, blood pouring from his neck spraying the beast.
From outside came the sound of wolves in combat. Without a doubt, Elysia thought. "They are finishing off the last survivors." She eyed the beast warily.
The mage's blood continued to flow, and a cloud of steam formed over his corpse, taking the form of Voorman, who stretched out his arms triumphantly and floated toward the werewolf. The mist entered the creature's mouth and nostrils, and it lay still for a moment as it clutched its throat; he was apparently unable to breathe. The light faded from her eyes to be replaced by a hellish blue glow.
When the creature spoke again, it was in Voorman's voice.
"Finally," he said. "The transmutation spell has been successful. Immortality and power are mine, and the strength of the beast belongs to me. I will live until Lord Luzbel comes to claim the world for himself. It is true that all things are mutable."
Elysia was stunned as she realized with horror what she had just witnessed. Voorman's plan had been fully accomplished. The trap had been triggered and the wizard's corrupted soul had taken possession of the werewolf's body. His evil intelligence and his sorcery would continue to live within that monstrous form, for Voorman henceforth possessed the strength and invulnerability of a lycanthrope, in addition to his own fiendish powers.
Slowly, her terrible eyes came to rest on Elysia, and she felt her strength abandon him under that baleful gaze of hers. Outside, the wolves whimpered in fear, and there was the bellow of a war cry that sounded oddly familiar to the catgirl. The werewolf gestured, and Elysia, mesmerized, moved closer until she was within range of the massive, bloodstained claws. At that moment, Voorman spread his arms and the sharp claws began to approach...
Elysia managed to overcome her fear and ducked as she swung her sword. It was just like her if she tried to nail it to a stone statue, because the sharp edge of her blade bounced off. The werewolf's retaliating claw ripped through her jerkin, and she felt a sharp pain in her flank, where her claws dug deep. Elysia jumped away. Only the fact that her reflexes were as quick as a cat's had kept the werewolf from disemboweling her.
Things seemed to happen in slow motion. The werewolf turned to face Elysia as he circled around her. The beast leaped with a force as irresistible as lightning, fell on the young woman and her huge arms wrapped around her with a force that threatened to snap her ribs like twigs.
desperate. Elysia stabbed him with the dagger she carried in her left hand, and to her surprise, she pierced the werewolf's skin. The smell of rotting flesh wafted from her wound, and the werewolf threw back his head and howled.
Elysia continued to stab him, and where she stabbed the dagger, the flesh turned soft. The beast gripped her then with less force, so she disengaged herself and she continued to stab her. Black spots appeared on her fur, like those you might see on overripe fruit, and Elysia kept stabbing at the werewolf, who fell, at last. The rot spread throughout her body until it consumed him completely. The mighty being simply withered, vanquished by the dagger's noxious runes, and then her infernal glow vanished from her weapon, which lay limp in her hand. Elysia opened her fingers and let her fall to the ground.
She was a long time before she could get up and look around the room at her. The girl was standing sullenly in the doorway, and Frey stood behind her like an executioner, the blade of her massive sword resting against Melicent's neck.
"I thought I'd never get to the end of those damn tracks. And I also had to kill about fifty wolves to get in here," the dark hero said as he surveyed the scene of carnage with a professional air. "Well, cat girl, it looks like you've had a busy night. I hope you left me something that can kill."