Sohna and Vivian - My Brother's Keeper

He was nearly to the man's office when he saw it coming, running towards him down the long hallway in it's half-bent-over loping gait. Shock overcame him and he froze in place as the Being - he couldn't bring himself to call it Wolf, although it clearly once had been; it was wearing Wolf's clothes and had just enough similarity left in it's oddly altered features to still be recognizable as his step-sister's fiancé - bore down on him. Part of his mind screamed at him to run away; told him that this must be the Beast the wolfs were said to carry within themselves, that he was in its path and would be killed, torn open like Emma, his body left to the flies, carrion. Impossible to tell if the creature recognized him with its alien eyes, but he thought, surely, surely something of Wolf must remain; he'd recognized Virginia in that state two nights ago. Hadn't he? But quickly on the heels of that thought, came the memory of Wolf's words, "No wolf remembers." And through it all, which seemed almost as if in slow motion, his mind kept crazily repeating to itself over and over, But it isn't full moon; it isn't full moon ...

The thing glanced cursorily at him as it passed. It grasped the doorknob of Mellifict's office with what once had been a hand, then, with a howl of frustration tore the door from its hinges in one blow, bounding inside almost before it hit the floor. That was when Wendell finally saw what it was after - and the sight chilled him far more than anything the wolf had done: With what appeared to be a thin strand of rope, Mellifict was choking the life out of the scullery maid, Molly.

He looked up in horror as Wolf dove for him, growling, dropping the girl to the floor in his haste to escape. But there was nowhere to go as he backed futilely away, his face gone a pasty white. Molly lay unmoving in a crumpled heap on the floor. It occurred to Wendell that she might need help; at last he managed to persuade his feet to move and ran to kneel beside her. A single drop of blood oozed from the thin red line scored into her throat, but she seemed to be breathing, he thought. He reached out to touch her just as he heard Virginia's breathless voice cry, "WOLF! NO!"

He looked up. Virginia was standing just inside the door, her breath coming in great, heaving gasps as if she'd run too far too fast, which she probably had, he thought. Wolf dropped what was left of Mellifict to the floor and flew to her in a single fluid movement, the bloody talons which had once been fingers outstretched. Wendell cringed. Beside him Molly stirred, then jerked violently away, her mind still focused on escaping her tormentor. She fell heavily against a row of bottled specimens lining a bottom shelf beneath the window. Several of the jars fell with the impact. Three of them broke, spilling their contents onto the hardwood, where the liquids ran together and licked at the nearby carpet. The fourth rolled out into the puddle, the rattling of the bones and teeth inside it somewhat muffled by the accompanying piece of furry hide. Wendell paid it no heed. All his attention was focused upon Virginia and the wolf.

It lifted her gently, delicately, in the wicked claws and with a mournful whine pressed its face to hers. The king shuddered, aghast at the sight; the creature's teeth protruded from its mouth like razors, but his step-sister, still panting, folded it into her arms. Then, like some nightmarish version of a lover, it carried her carefully across the room and laid her upon the sofa, where it stroked her and whined some more as she tried to catch her breath. Horribly, to Wendell, it spoke her name, "Virginia," with a whispered voice in which he could still recognize the man it had once been. Then it gasped and its body convulsed. To his horror, Virginia sat upright and threw her arms around it, but then as Wendell continued to watch, mesmerized, the bones of its face seemed to shift beneath the skin; the teeth altered their shape, and the Wolf he knew emerged. He blinked and reached out to touch his fiancé's face, drawing his hand back in shock at the blood still staining it.

Antony appeared at the door along with the wolf-woman whose petition he'd heard less than an hour ago.

"What the hell happened?" his former manservant demanded.

Wendell stared at them for a moment, confused, then absently glanced over at Molly. She was lying on the floor amidst the wreckage of preserved specimens and broken glass, shivering in shock. The king got to his feet, but Antony's long strides reached her first. He lifted her easily in his arms and carried her to the sofa where his daughter lay. Virginia, her breath fully recovered and now trying to calm Wolf, got up to make room for her.

Wendell glanced back at the wolf-woman. What's she doing here? he wondered irritably. Could she have something to do with Wolf's behavior? He watched curiously as she hobbled over to Mellifict's body and appeared to survey with a critical eye the damage done to him. She nodded as if satisfied, then looked directly at him. The gray eyes which he had thought before looked so sad seemed to bore a hole through him; he was unable to stop himself from trying to imagine what she would look like with the Beast inside her released. But all she said was, "You need to call a doctor."

Wendell blinked.

"You mean he isn't dead?" he asked incredulously.

"No," she said, looking back down at the prostrate doctor. Wendell followed her gaze. His clothes were shredded and bloody where Wolf had grasped him by the arm and the front of his shirt, but there was otherwise no mark on him. And despite the circle of wetness beneath him on the carpet and across the front of his trousers where he'd evacuated himself, he was obviously still breathing; the king could see his chest rise and fall.

"But," she continued, "He shouldn't be moved until a doctor has seen him. He probably has several broken bones; my son wouldn't have been gentle with him."

"Your son? Wolf is your son?" How many more shocks would he have today, he wondered?

"My foster son," she clarified, "My brother's child. But he is the one I came to see you about, yes."

She lowered her eyes and went to join the others. Wendell glanced down at Mellifict once more, then strode to the doorway. Out in the hall, not a living soul was in sight, but he knew they were there, hiding. Uncomfortably he realized he could smell their fear; he wished for a moment Wolf had not forced him to see that he could still do this, but he knew the wish was pointless, so he pushed it away. Besides, now, as before, that ability would save him time.

"I know you are all there," he said loudly and authoritatively, "And I want to see you here immediately!" He knew they probably all thought he'd been shredded to ribbons, so the sound of his obviously alive and in charge voice ought to reassure them, he thought. He was right.

Gradually heads popped out from behind corners. It wasn't long before seven servants had assembled before him in the hall. He sent the most reliable to fetch the best doctor in the village. Then he returned to the study. Molly was clearly badly injured. They had covered her with a blanket, but she continued to shiver as Wolf's foster mother ministered to her. Wendell told them he'd called for a doctor, then explained what he'd seen happen. When he'd finished, Antony told him the conclusion they'd drawn based on the herbal evidence in Emma's pockets. Wendell frowned. Suddenly it seemed to him that he'd just seen something he should have recognized. He walked back over to where the jars had broken during Molly's panic. The single unbroken one lying in the mess caught his eye. He picked it up. The teeth - what was left of the ones still clinging to their sockets after being knocked off the shelf - were unmistakable after what he'd just witnessed. They were the bestial teeth of a half-wolf. He took the jar back over to show the others.

"I guess that proves it, then," said Antony. "That old fur he had must have come off of this skin. And he might have been able to make that wound on her throat with those teeth. They still look pretty sharp. He killed her."

"But why would he want to kill Molly?" asked Wendell.

"She was bringing me soup," said Virginia dully.

They all looked back over to the doctor's desk. On it, undisturbed by the violent goings-on around it, sat the tray of food Virginia had requested, including a bowl of soup. Next to it sat an ominous small amber vial.

"You think she knew what it was?" he asked.

"She wouldn't have had to," Wolf's aunt noted. "All she would have had to do was say she intended to tell Virginia he'd doctored the soup, no matter how much he insisted she do otherwise. He'd know she was suspicious. And if anything happened to Virginia after that, Molly could easily point her finger at him. He'd already killed once. Maybe he thought he could get away with it again without making whatever mistake he'd made the first time. Maybe he thought this time he could really make it look like a wolf kill."

For a moment they were silent, still staring at the doctor's unconscious form on the floor. Then Virginia said, "What I want to know is, that if Wolf's cycle has been interrupted so he doesn't ‘change' during full moon, why did he do it now? It's not as if he wasn't around me - even considering the fact that it's not full moon anymore."

Wolf's foster mother bit her lip.

"I don't know," she admitted. "Not for certain. Females will do it to protect young cubs. And I have heard of one instance of a male who survived his mate for a short time doing the same. I could speculate that Simon might react in this way because you cannot, but even if you were a half-wolf, you wouldn't react to the moon while carrying a cub. And I've never heard of this reaction in expectant fathers. Which, of course, doesn't mean it hasn't happened. But just as speculation, I suspect it has something to do with your not being half-wolf at all. We really have no way of knowing how such a bond would affect one of us."

As he sat at the desk in his own office that evening, Wendell pondered the new information he'd gained about half-wolfs. Well, you certainly got what you wanted, Wendell, he thought. You wanted to see what they really could and would do. Maybe you should be more careful what you wish for. Still, Wolf's ... Simon's - he had been permitted to know Wolf's real name, he'd been told, since he was about to become his brother-in-law, though he couldn't reveal it to anyone - transformation had told him more of what the half-wolfs were actually like. Not entirely, however, he thought, since unfortunately it hadn't taken place during full moon. Though he apparently really became a beast, he obviously had not attacked everyone in his path, being focused only on Mellifict, whom he had believed, quite rightly, was a danger to Virginia. But supposing the full moon caused more uncontrolled behavior? Wendell had now seen how much damage Wolf could cause in that state - he'd broken Mellifict's arm and two of his ribs, in addition to the bone-deep scratches he'd inflicted on the doctor. Nor was Mellifict any longer quite sane - though Wendell supposed the sanity of someone who would commit murder might have been in question to begin with. He was under guard now and heavily sedated in the dungeon, with the village doctor stopping by daily to check on both him and Molly. The man had recommended transferring him to the village hospital, but the king had refused. He had no idea how many people might have agreed in principle with Mellifict's actions and he didn't want the doctor to become some sort of rallying point. Wendell had until the next full moon to make up his mind what to do about the half-wolfs. He intended to use every day until then if it was necessary; he knew now that it wasn't simply the wolfs' behavior he'd need to consider. Mellifict had at least shown him that.

Tony stumbled out of the mirror into Central Park, blinking and trying to shake off his momentary disorientation. The stench of car exhaust overwhelmed him even here in the middle of the trees; he wondered briefly how someone like Wolf could stand it. It was just something he'd been accustomed to all his life until now, and so had really never noticed before. The dull drone of background noise was the same. Before coming to the Nine Kingdoms, he'd have considered his present location peaceful and serene. It wasn't quiet to him now, though, and he had to fight to keep from being annoyed.

The mere thought of annoyance suddenly made his nose itch. He reached up absently to scratch it, then cursed. Damn that Rupert for making him dress as a clown! he thought, though he knew it was not strictly Rupert's fault. At his own insistence, they had all gone over and over various possible ways Tony could return temporarily to New York without being recognized either by the police or the Murrays, and this had been the only one he thought had the slightest chance of getting him inside the penthouse unrecognized. Even then, he'd insisted on arriving the day after the others, since he was afraid the Murrays would get suspicious if a clown went into the place and stayed the night. He knew he'd miss seeing the miniseries of their adventures that way, but he'd reasoned that they could replay any parts of the show for him that they thought might be significant. Besides, he wasn't really keen on seeing all his foolish mistakes reenacted; he knew he'd made plenty of them. A whisper of logic in his mind told him he hardly needed to come back at all if he had no intention of watching the show (since that was what they'd all returned for), but he hadn't been able to stay completely away. He'd just wanted to see it all again, though now that he was here, he really didn't know why. New York was smelly, noisy and crowded, and to top it all off, he couldn't even scratch his itch without smearing the greasepaint on his face and popping off his rubber nose. But there was no way he was going back to the Fourth Kingdom now after going through having all this get-up put on, he thought. Taking a deep breath, he glanced once again at the address Virginia had printed for him, then set off towards Fifth Avenue, trying not to trip over his floppy feet, trailing the balloons he'd brought back from Kissingtown behind him.

The lobby was much nicer than the one in his old apartment building. To his further delight, he didn't see anyone in it he recognized or who insisted on recognizing him. He found the concierge and gave her the business name they'd all agreed he'd use. After waiting a few moments while she verified that he was expected, she turned a key in the elevator for him and told him to go on up.

The elevator doors closed and he breathed a sigh of relief. He'd wondered briefly if he would be expected to sing some sort of song to go with the costume - like a singing telegram. Unfortunately he hadn't been able to think of anything that went well with a clown carrying heart shaped balloons. A funny love song? He couldn't think of anything offhand except Muskrat Love, and he - thankfully - couldn't remember the words to that. Now he wouldn't have to do it anyway, he thought. He was headed to the penthouse and that was the only apartment on that floor. No one besides the group he was going to meet should be there.

The doors opened. But instead of opening directly into the penthouse as he'd imagined they would, they parted on a large vestibule - a sort of mini-hallway - that contained a single door labeled with a gold letter ‘P'. Beside the door sat a woman reading a newspaper. On the table beside her stood a lamp, a mug of coffee, and a cell phone. She looked up curiously at him as he got off the elevator.

Though he'd never seen the woman before, he was sure this had to be another of Murray's relatives. He pasted a smile on his face and looked away, then knocked rapidly on the apartment door. It seemed like forever before his daughter finally opened it; he could feel the woman's eyes on him the whole time. He'd have to sing, he suddenly realized. But what? His mind was completely blank. At the sight of Virginia, he blurted out the first thing that popped into his mind:

"Green acres is the place to be
Farm living is the life for me
Land spreading out so far and wide
Take Manhattan just give me that countryside."

She stared at him for a moment as if he'd lost his mind - which he felt like he probably actually had - then smiled and loudly said, "Come in." He'd gone in and closed the door behind him, then leaned against it in relief. He'd made it.

Later, he wondered almost why he'd bothered. They'd all decided to go out somewhere and discuss it over lunch. So, here he was in the men's room of the Grill on the Park, where Virginia used to work, washing off the last bit of his clown disguise. He knew he'd be taking a bit of a chance that he'd be recognized by the police, but he just couldn't stand to wear the costume any more; he really didn't see how professional clowns tolerated it. And anyway, he reasoned, he'd picked up a change of clothes for himself at the penthouse - he couldn't really bring himself to say ‘at home' - and the restaurant wasn't far from the mirror portal. He'd just make sure he sat with his face to a wall.

They'd saved him just that kind of seat, he saw as he walked back out to the dining terrace. Wordlessly, he handed the bundle of clown clothes to Rupert, who took it with an expression of mild distaste, and then sat down next to Virginia. His daughter was still talking to her friend Amy.

"Well when do you think would be a good time?" the girl asked her.

"I really don't know," replied Virginia hesitantly. "You know, it's not necessary, really. We don't need anything."

"Oh, but it's the principle," Amy insisted. "You can't get married without a shower! It's part of the whole deal. And we want to do it. So how long do we have? When is the big day? Have you decided?"

"Um . . three ... no, two and a half weeks from now, I guess," she told them.

"Wow. That's fast," the girl commented. "Especially since wasn't it just the week before last you said you hadn't set a date yet?"

Virginia smiled.

"Oh, well, never mind," said Amy quickly. "We'll fit it in."

"No," said Virginia, "Look, Amy, I'd just feel bad cause it's not like we can invite you guys to the wedding. It's too far away. And we'll be traveling back and forth and I just don't know when I'll be here."

"Where is it?"

Virginia looked at Wolf, who was busy eating the food Amy'd brought them.

"California," she said.

"Oh. You going to live there too?"

"Yeah, probably. I don't know."

"Well, you think about it, okay? Cause y'know, it can be a kind of going away thing too. And don't worry about telling us at the last minute - whenever you're in town, okay?"

"Okay."

She finally disappeared back into the kitchen.

Wendell leaned forward.

"What exactly is a ‘shower'?" he asked. "Some kind of ritual cleansing?"

Virginia laughed.

"No," she said, and explained what it was.

"Presents?" asked Wolf, suddenly interested.

"No," she said. "No, look, nothing we need, okay? Weren't we going to talk about that inscription?"

"What inscription?" asked Tony.

"The one in the play," explained Wendell. "You were in that scene - I mean it happened to you - that's why you didn't need to watch it."

"It's the date, Dad," Virginia told him. "The one Wilhelm Grimm carved into the beam in the dungeon. The date is all wrong."

"How is it wrong?"

"You know it said 1805? Well, that was 195 years ago."

"So?"

"So," said Wendell, "My grandmother was only 150 years old when she went away fourteen years ago. She hadn't even been born yet when this Grimm fellow was here ... there."

"Well, that doesn't prove anything," Tony pointed out. "He could have gone back several times or spent a big part of his life there."

"True, we did think of that, but it's really the only thing we have to go on," insisted Wendell.

"Or there could be some kind of difference in the way time runs between the two places," Tony continued.

"Time fairies," said Rupert. "Yes, I did wonder about that."

"Well why didn't you mention it?" asked the king.

"It just didn't seem ... likely," he replied, gesturing expansively at his surroundings.

"Ah," agreed Wendell, "But no matter. Because there just is nothing else in the whole thing to suggest any sort of connection between our worlds."

"Well, yes there is," said Wolf. "But nobody seemed to think it was important, so ... "

"What is it?" Tony demanded.

"Both the traveling mirrors led here. To the same exact place."

"But we have no idea where the third one led to," Wendell pointed out. "It could easily have led to wherever this Grimm person lived. As Virginia pointed out, the North Sea borders the - whatever the place is called that he's from - and the mirror is at the bottom of the North Sea."

Privately Tony thought it might be rather important too. And he really didn't see much difference between the speculation over either the dates of Grimm's visit(s) or the location of the missing mirror's destination. But he knew better than to try to budge Wendell once his mind was firmly made up. He doubted the man could even hear other people's opinions once he'd formed his own. Hopefully, he thought, if they ran into a dead end pursuing Grimm's visit, the king could be persuaded to look into the fortuitous coincidence of at least two out of three mirrors being focused on New York.

"So where do we start with this?" he asked.

"There's a records room in the cellar of the palace," Wendell explained. "It should have some sort of record of Grimm's visit, especially if he was once apparently held prisoner in the dungeon. We can start with that."

They'd agreed on that and then Wendell and Rupert had excused themselves to go walk in the park while Tony talked with Virginia.

"Honey," he said, "I've been thinking. You know, about what you said about not having insurance." He looked around the restaurant as if to emphasize where her insurance had gone. "And I really think that if I was to go back and talk to them, that the Murrays would pay for you to see a doctor. A good one."

"Oh, but Dad ..."

Wolf had been busily eating a second order of meat he'd called his dessert, but he looked up quickly at Tony's words.

"Oh, that sounds like a great idea!" he said.

"Wolf, no ..." she protested. "Look, I don't think I can have this baby here in New York. I mean, what if it has a tail? How would we explain that?"

"But Virginia," said Wolf, "Remember my aunt said you needed somebody to deliver it that was experienced in delivering babies from non-wolf mothers."

"Yes, Wolf, but ..."

"Well, you can't mean you want somebody like ..." he didn't finish, but they both knew he meant Mellifict.

"No," she said.

"Look, you don't necessarily have to give birth here," Tony told her, though he privately wished she would. If the kid had a tail, they'd deal with that later, he thought, trying not to dwell too much on the image. "But at least see a doctor here until then, okay? I'm just talking prenatal care, that's all. Would you do that?"

She looked at him and then at Wolf, who looked as if he were even more anxious for her to agree than Tony was.

"Okay," she finally said. "But what about the police? What if someone recognizes you?"

"Oh, there's plenty of wanted criminals running around New York," he reassured her, trying to sound as casual as he could. "And I won't be going that far."

They called for the check and Amy brought it. She gestured to the empty chairs where Wendell and Rupert had been sitting.

"I guess the blonde one is gay then, huh?" she asked.

"I'm afraid so," Virginia told her.

"Too bad. He sure is cute."

Not that the high and mighty king of the Fourth Kingdom would stoop to notice a waitress, even if women interested him, thought Tony sarcastically.

"Oh, well," the girl went on, "You remember to be sure and let us know about that shower. And don't worry about already having stuff - we can do some kind of theme thing, okay?"

"Okay," agreed Virginia.

They'd walked almost three quarters of the way back to the mirror, following Wolf's lead, when he veered off to the left, saying that was where Wendell and Rupert's trail led. They followed it through a clearing to a row of thickly planted holly. Suddenly Wolf stopped short; he almost reminded Tony of a dog on a point, except, of course, he wasn't pointing.

"Oh, no," he whispered, suddenly dashing off down the length of the hedgerow. Virginia took off after him. Tony ran after Virginia.

It wasn't too long before he heard what had drawn Wolf's attention. From the other side of the tall hedge of holly came the sound of ominous thuds accompanied by voices:

" ... you filthy fucking faggot!"

Virginia heard it too. In horror, he saw her stop and then dive in between two of the prickly trees towards the sound.

"Virginia, NO!" he called, but she didn't stop. Wolf, however, did, turning just as her leg disappeared from view. He rushed back to where she'd gone and plunged in right behind her. Resigning himself to scratched skin and torn clothing, Tony followed, keeping as close to Wolf as he could to minimize the damage to himself. They broke free at nearly the same time. Before them, in a small clearing, lay Wendell and Rupert, unmoving. Over them stood four black-dressed, shaven-head ruffians. The nearest, a set of brass knuckles in his gloved hand, leered at Virginia, and Tony realized, with a horrible feeling of futility, that he could never reach her in time.