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proper. "One of ours," I grumbled. The Syndic always surrounded himself with a
squad from the Company. "Sleeping quarters upstairs?" I'd never been inside
the Paper Tower.
The Captain nodded. "Kitchen level, stores level, servants' quarters on two
levels, then family, then the Syndic himself. Library and offices at the top.
Wants to make it hard to get
to him."
I examined the body. "Not quite like the ones at the tomb. Tom-Tom. It didn't
take the blood or organs. How come?"
He had no answer. Neither did One-Eye.
The Captain peered into the shadows above. "Now it gets tricky. Halberdiers,
one step at a time. Keep your points low. Crossbows, stay four or five steps
behind. Shoot anything that moves. Swords out, everybody. One-Eye, run your
spell ahead."
Crackle. Step, step, quietly. Stench of fear. Quang! A man discharged his
crossbow accidentally. The Captain spit and grumbled like a volcano in bad
temper.
There wasn't a damned thing to see.
Servants' quarters. Blood splashed the walls. Bodies and pieces of bodies lay
everywhere amidst furniture invariably shredded and wrecked. There are hard
men in the Company, but even the hardest was moved. Even I, who as physician
see the worst the battlefield offers.
The Lieutenant said, "Captain, I'm getting the rest of the Company. This thing
isn't getting away." His tone brooked no contradiction. The Captain merely
nodded.
The carnage had that effect. Fear faded somewhat. Most of us decided the thing
had to be destroyed.
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A scream sounded above. It was like a taunt hurled our way, daring us to come
on. Hard-eyed men started up the stair. The air crackled as the spell preceded
them. Tom-Tom and One-Eye bore down on their terror. The death hunt began in
earnest.
A vulture had evicted the eagle nesting atop the Paper Tower, a fell omen
indeed. I had no hope for our employer.
We climbed past five levels. It was gorily obvious the forvalaka had visited
each....
Tom-Torn whipped up a hand, pointed. The forvalaka was nearby. The halberdiers
knelt behind their weapons. The crossbowmen aimed at shadows. Tom-Tom waited
half a minute. He, One-Eye, Silent, and Goblin posed intently, listening to
something the rest of the world could only imagine. Then, "It's waiting. Be
careful. Don't give it an opening."
I asked a dumb question, altogether too late for its answer to have bearing.
"Shouldn't we use silver weapons? Quarrel heads and blades?"
Tom-Tom looked baffled.
"Where I come from the peasants say you have to kill werewolves with silver."
"Crap. You kill them same as you kill anything else. Only you move faster and
hit harder 'cause you only get
one shot."
The more he revealed the less terrible the creature seemed. This was like
hunting a rogue lion. Why all the fuss?
I recalled the servant's quarters.
"Everybody just stand still," Tom-Tom said. "And be quiet. We'll try a
sending." He and his cohorts put their heads together. After a while he
indicated we should resume our advance.
We eased onto a landing, packed tightly, a human hedgehog with quills of
steel. The wizards sped their enchantment. An angry roar came from the shadows
ahead, followed by the scrape of claws. Something moved. Crossbows twanged.
Another roar, almost mocking. The wizards put their heads together again.
Downstairs the Lieutenant was ordering men into positions the forvalaka would
have to pass to escape.
We eased into the darkness, tension mounting. Bodies and blood made the
footing treacherous. Men hastened to seal doors. Slowly, we penetrated a suite
of offices. Twice movement drew fire from the crossbows.
The forvalaka yowled not twenty feet away. Tom-Tom released a sigh that was
half groan. "Caught it," he said, meaning they had reached it with their
spell.
Twenty feet away. Right there with us. I could see nothing,... Something
moved. Quarrels flew. A man cried out.... "Damn!" the Captain swore. "Somebody
was still alive up here." ,
Something as black as the heart of night, as quick as unexpected death, arced
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