Page 5 of The Howling
I follow. I don’t have much choice after all, and this place has to be better than the cages outside.
“I’m the Hedley Kow,” the creature says with a smile which is more fang-filled than I expected.
“The Hedley Kow?” I ask.
“I’m not the only one, I don’t think.” She puts a finger to her mouth. “I’ve been here for so long I’ve forgotten. You can call me Lilburn.”
“Are you the jailer?”
The Hedley Kow laughs loudly at my suggestion.
“No, I am…or I was…the skivvy. But now there aretwoof us,” she says, mirth radiating from her. “Providing neither of us get eaten.”
“I can assure you, I have no intention of being eaten. I want to survive.”
“To escape again?” She cocks her head on one side, her purple eyes searching me.
“I wasn’t escaping.” I don’t meet her gaze, instead looking around the room we’re in, which is furnished with two threadbare brown armchairs and a little fire blazing away in a hearth. “I was mushroom picking.”
“Look, you can’t fool this old mischief sprite,” the Hedley Kow says. “I know what you were doing.”
“And you’re going to tell me not to do it again?” I interrupt.
“I was going to tell you to plan a bit more in advance next time,” she says. “And probably not try it from the dungeons. Since the last break out, Lord Guyzance has upped the security.”
“Who broke out last time?” I ask.
“The Barghest,” she says, quietly. “And now he’s back, he won’t ever be free.”
REAVELY
Iam back in Lord Guyzance’s dungeon once again.
It was not my aim to end up here, although the soul which distracted me gave the Redcaps an opportunity to temporarily subdue me. Not enough, but then I was coming back to Guyzance in any event.
I want information. Information about my family, about who ordered their deaths. Once I know, I can take my revenge.
The souls I would take on behalf of the Reaper will still be there when I get out. In the meantime, I can find souls here too. There’s plenty of the damned at the Faerie lord’s disposal, should the Reaper so desire them.
I pace back and forth at the bars, shaking my great shaggy head. The stench of the dungeons filters in, but it’s tempered by a new scent. One which fills every single part of my being.
It’s the scent which distracted me earlier. I don’t know what it is, but I feel like running until I drop, until I find this thing which calls to me like I’ve never felt before.
I don’t know what it is, but I do know it ismine.
Lifting my head, I do my best to pinpoint the smell. It’s not only in Lord Guyzance’s castle but it’s here, in the dungeons.
I grasp at the bars of the cage, iron of course, but poorly maintained because the Faerie can’t stand iron, and as a result, they don’t understand it. Further, the idiotic Redcaps they employ are inherently lazy and won’t do anything unless they are ordered.
Redcaps which managed to recapture me. But only because I was distracted.
That scent…
I wrench at the bars, and they give a little. Maybe enough to put my head through. I shove as more of the scent fills my nostrils and get my shoulders through. My flesh rips but I don’t give a damn.
I’ll heal. I always do. The Reaper doesn’t want me yet.
I pull myself further through the bars, twisting and wrenching until I get free. My shoulder is out of its socket, my arm hanging loosely by my side as pain screeches through me, but it doesn’t matter as I swing my head and catch the scent once again, stronger than ever.
