Bloodborn (26 page)

Gabriella shoved her aside and they ran for the front door. Behind them, Hermione’s voice raised, shrill with rage.

‘Get them! Leave me! Get them!’

The sounds of pursuit followed them as they burst out into the drive. Ulrika looked back into the house. Von Zechlin and two of his men were pelting down the hall for the door.

Ulrika stopped at the bottom of the steps as Gabriella opened the door to the coach. ‘Should I kill them, mistress?’ she asked, going on guard.

‘In the street?’ barked Gabriella. ‘Foolish child. Get in!’ She shoved back Lotte, who had peered out to see what the trouble was, and plunged into the coach, then rapped on the ceiling for the driver to go before Ulrika had got all the way in. ‘Go! Fly!’ she shouted.

Ulrika slammed the door as the coach rumbled forwards, then looked out the window and back. Von Zechlin and his men were spilling out of the house and skidding down the stairs after them. Rodrik came last, wheezing and holding his bloody face.

It looked for a moment as if the gentlemen were going to pursue the coach down the street, but von Zechlin looked around at the pre-dawn traffic and called them back. Ulrika smiled as they trudged back into the house with many an angry look. Having to maintain a respectable front must be such a disadvantage.

The last thing Ulrika saw as the house vanished from view around a corner was Otilia, the housekeeper, glaring in her direction, then slowly closing the door.

After a few streets, Uwe the coachman’s voice came from above. ‘Where shall I take you, mistress?’

Gabriella sighed and leaned back against the bench, tidying her dishevelled coiffure. ‘A very good question,’ she said.

Ulrika turned to her, taking her hand. ‘Mistress, let us leave this rat’s nest and go back to Sylvania.’ She gestured angrily back the way they had come. ‘Who among them is worth saving? Rodrik is a vain fool, and Mistress Hermione is so concerned with her standing that she strikes out at those who would help her. While we have been trying to find the killer she has hampered us and thwarted us at every step. Let her die!’

Gabriella brushed dust from her skirts and adjusted her bodice. ‘Would that I could,’ she said. ‘But one does not go against the orders of the queen. I must continue the investigation, with Hermione’s help or without it.’

‘But how?’ Ulrika asked. ‘We have no house, no allies. What will we do?’

Gabriella smiled, tired. ‘We will have to make new allies.’ She raised her voice and rapped on the wall. ‘Uwe! South of the river! To the Wolf’s Head!’

Ulrika’s raised an eyebrow. ‘Mathilda?’

Gabriella laughed. ‘Hermione was so convinced the she-wolf and I were in collusion when we were not, and now she has driven us together. Her actions make realities of her fears.’

As they drove through the waking city, it was clear that the discovery of Dagmar’s corpse had stirred Nuln’s vampire hysteria to new heights. The charm sellers were thicker than ever on the streets, hawking garlic and leather collars and silver pendants in the shape of Sigmar’s hammer or the twin-tailed comet. Broadsheet vendors cried their headlines.

‘Brothel of Blood in the Handelbezirk!’

‘Vampire harlot found dead!’

‘Witch hunters close brothel, arrest whores by the dozen!’

Street-corner demagogues shrilled at the men and women trudging to their jobs on the river and in the manufactories.

‘They walk among us!’ shrieked one. ‘From the high to the low! From the rich to the poor! And it is our lust that allows them in! Resist the harlot! Resist the mistress! Be pure in your own heart and ye shall be safe!’

‘Can you trust your wife?’ cried another, spraying spittle. ‘Can you trust your daughter? All women are vampires! All beauty is witchery! All must burn!’

And it seemed that the people were taking the messages to heart, for everywhere she looked, Ulrika saw men and women eyeing each other suspiciously. A group of austerely dressed men watched with distrust as a pretty young apple-seller pushed past them with her barrow. A group of children ran after an old woman in widow’s black, pointing and singing, ‘Vampire! Vampire! Don’t let her catch you!’

The very air seemed tense with fear and suppressed violence. Nuln, the city of cannon and blackpowder, seemed ready to explode.

It was full dawn when they at last found their way through the milling slums of the Faulestadt and reached the Wolf’s Head Tavern, then turned down the narrow alley between the tottering tenements and waited at the disguised gate that guarded the hidden court.

At their coachman’s call, Red, the henna-haired woman who had been their escort on their last visit, peeked over the top of the wall and looked down at them.

‘She’s having her kip,’ she called. ‘And ain’t t’be disturbed.’

‘It is a matter of some urgency,’ said Gabriella, leaning out with a veil over her face. ‘And touches on her safety.’

Red’s head pulled back and Ulrika heard a brief murmur of discussion behind the wall, then she popped back out.

‘Y’better come in, then,’ she said. ‘Hang on.’

Ulrika and Gabriella sat back in their seats and waited as the false wall swung noisily in and the coach rumbled forwards into the muddy yard.

Lotte peered out through the louvres at the ramshackle buildings and rough men that surrounded them, her eyes growing wider by the moment. ‘Are we safe here, mistress?’ she asked.

‘Safe?’ said Gabriella. ‘I cannot say. But we have so far received more courtesy here than in Hermione’s gilded halls. Hopefully we shall also receive a fairer hearing.’

She and Ulrika fixed their veils in place and stepped from the coach, leaving Lotte to wait, then once again followed the red-headed hoyden as she led them down past the wards of misdirection and confusion to the subterranean world below the Wolf’s Head, and then through the hidden door into Madam Mathilda’s opulently shabby parlour. There was a wait there as their guide disappeared through a further door and had a conversation with Mathilda’s maid, but at last the door opened again and Mathilda herself came out, barefoot and spilling out of a belted red satin robe. Her hair, previously a wild black mane, was wound around her head and wrapped in a pink scarf.

‘Ladies,’ she croaked, coming forwards with a bleary smile. ‘I’m afraid y’never catch me at my best.’ She sprawled opposite them on the chaise and put a bare leg up. ‘What is it? Are y’here to tell me Hermione’s coming for me after all?’

‘She may indeed be,’ said Gabriella. ‘But we come seeking refuge and help, for she has decided we are her enemies as well.’

Mathilda’s eyes widened at that. ‘Do tell. Did y’tread mud on her carpets?’

Gabriella smiled and shook her head. ‘She believes that we have conspired with you to kill all our other sisters here, and wants to execute us for it without trial. We had to fight our way out of her house.’ She narrowed her lips. ‘Madam Dagmar is dead. Have you heard?’

Mathilda nodded. ‘Witch hunters closed down her place. We’ve been getting some of her less discriminating customers. Killed on the way back from our little chat, wasn’t she? Did y’do it?’

Gabriella gave her a look. ‘If I was going to kill any of my sisters here in Nuln, Dagmar would not be first on my list.’

Mathilda grinned. ‘Nor mine. So, do we give Hermione what she’s asking for and go to war?’

‘No,’ said Gabriella. ‘It is precisely to prevent a war that I came here.’ She sat forwards. ‘We must find the true killer as soon as possible, before Hermione can gather her forces. If we can bring her proof of someone else’s involvement, I think even this rift can be smoothed over.’

‘Forgive me, mistress,’ said Ulrika, frowning. ‘You wish to smooth this over? She attacked you. I understand you don’t want a war, but you should at least tell the queen what she has done. You should get permission to kill her.’

Gabriella patted Ulrika’s hand. ‘I will indeed tell the queen, beloved, but nothing will come of it. There are too few of us for her to execute her daughters for squabbling.’

‘And four fewer just now,’ interjected Mathilda.

Gabriella nodded. ‘Indeed. Hermione will be reprimanded, perhaps demoted, but nothing else. Had she succeeded in killing me, yes, something would have been done. But she didn’t succeed, so…’ She shrugged.

Ulrika crossed her arms. She didn’t like it. It didn’t seem fair.

‘So y’want my help finding this killer, then,’ said Mathilda, scratching herself. ‘Any leads so far?’

Gabriella shuddered. ‘Well, he attacked us in our rooms this evening,’ she said. ‘And he is at least two persons.’

‘Who?’ said Mathilda, sitting up. ‘What does he, er, they, look like?’

‘We did not see,’ said Gabriella. ‘One of them is a warlock of some kind, a necromancer perhaps, and a living man, if his heartbeat was to be believed. He created an unnatural blackness that even our night sight was unable to pierce. The other is a foul, stinking undead monster – enormous and terribly strong, and I believe gifted with flight. It did not speak, however, so I know not if it is beast or man.’

‘Attacking vampires in the dark,’ muttered Mathilda. ‘Clever. We ain’t used to that.’

Gabriella turned to Ulrika. ‘But though we did not see them, Ulrika believes she has found their lair.’

Mathilda smiled. ‘That’s better. Where is it?’

‘In the Garden of Morr, in the Temple Quarter,’ said Ulrika. ‘We – I followed some clues there, and found a crypt that reeked of the monster’s stench. But I was attacked by ghouls before I could investigate further. If we were to go back–’

‘Ghouls?’ said Mathilda. ‘In Nuln’s garden? I thought them raven monks took better care.’ She scratched her scalp through her coiled hair with a long painted fingernail. ‘Y’might be right about a necromancer being at the back of this. Maybe the big ripper is just his pet – a terror or a varghulf or some giant wight.’

‘I have been thinking the same,’ said Gabriella. ‘The attacks have intelligence. They aren’t the work of a mere beast. A cunning warlock with some monster on a leash would explain much. What I don’t understand is their intent. Why do they attack us? Such servants of darkness are more often our allies than our enemies.’

‘Maybe they’re in the pay of some rival,’ said Mathilda, then sat up, eyes bright. ‘You don’t suppose Hermione–?’

‘No,’ said Gabriella. ‘As tempting as the thought is, she would be bringing as much trouble upon herself as the rest of us. The witch hunters are harassing us all, and the citizens are mad with fear, and check every shadow for us.’

‘Aye,’ said Mathilda, sinking back with a sigh. ‘They’re even killing girls who ain’t vampires. A doxy down the street was burned last night just for being pale and having long dark hair. Dangerous times.’

‘Then let us go back to the graveyard and finish it!’ said Ulrika. ‘Forearmed with what we know, we can kill it this time.’

Gabriella nodded, then looked at Mathilda. ‘Will you help? We will need numbers to combat their ghouls, and claws to counter their claws.’

‘And their sorcery?’ asked Mathilda. ‘I ain’t quick with incantations and the like.’

‘I shall take care of that,’ said Gabriella.

Mathilda frowned for a moment, then nodded. ‘Right, you’ll have your numbers, and your claws. I don’t want to be the last Lahmian in Nuln. I meant what I told miss toffy nose. I don’t want nothing north of the river.’ She stood, grunting. ‘Let me find ye a place t’rest for the day. I’ll get my lads and lasses together and we’ll go have a walk in the garden once the sun goes down.’

She reached for a tarnished bell on a side table, but before she could ring it there was a thunder of footsteps on the stairs. Ulrika and the others went on guard as the door burst open. It was Red, panting with effort and fright.

‘Mistress!’ she cried. ‘Witch hunters! Looking for vampires!’

Mathilda sneered. ‘Let ’em look. They’ll not find us down here.’

‘But, mistress,’ said the woman, wild-eyed. ‘They’ve set the place on fire! The Wolf’s ablaze!’

Mathilda cursed, then turned to Gabriella. ‘You’re the cause of this! They followed you!’

‘No one followed me,’ said Gabriella. ‘I am sorceress enough for that, I think.’ She looked up at the roof, as if she could see through it to who was behind the attack. ‘Someone must have told them we had come.’

‘Are you accusing one of my chicks?’ asked Mathilda, her voice cold.

‘No,’ said Gabriella. ‘But–’

‘Hermione!’ cried Ulrika.

Gabriella shook her head, but her face was troubled. ‘I would hate to think it. We may kill each other, but to turn a sister over to the witch hunters?’

‘Who else could it be?’ asked Ulrika. ‘Rodrik?’

Gabriella looked up at her with sad eyes. ‘That is more likely, curse him.’

‘I don’t care who it was who done it!’ shouted Mathilda. ‘They’re burning down my house because of you! You’re bad luck! The both of you!’

She turned to her servant. ‘Red, get everybody out. Through the hidey-holes. Take what you can and leave the rest. We’ll meet at Suki’s place. Got it?’

‘Aye, mistress,’ said Red, then turned and ran out the door again.

Gabriella stepped up to Mathilda. ‘Your wards won’t protect you down here?’ she asked.