There was a slight motion in the surrounding crowd, and one of the liveried footmen approached. 'Begging pardon, sir,'

he said to Sir Alexander, 'but there's a man from the village come to see you. Says it's very important.' The servant lowered his voice. 'There's been a death.'

'A death?' Alice gasped. She went pale. 'Is it . . . ?' She couldn't finish the sentence.

'One of the villagers, my lady,' the footman a.s.sured her. 'No one important.'

'Thank goodness for small mercies,' said Sarah sarcastically. 'It's just a villager.'

The footman flushed and looked away.

'I suppose I'd better speak with the man,' Sir Alexander apologized to the group. 'If you'll excuse me?'

'Allow me to accompany you. Sir Alexander,' the Doctor said quickly. 'Perhaps I may be of some small help.'

'Thank you.' Sir Alexander moved across the room, the Doctor in his wake.

Sarah eyed her empty gla.s.s and sighed. She'd have liked another, but she couldn't let the Doctor out of her sight. 'Oi,'

she said to the footman. When he looked at her, she stuck the gla.s.s in his hand. 'Thanks.' Then she made off after the Doc - tor.

Sir Alexander stopped at the front door, where a one-armed man was hovering nervously, clearly out of his depth at this posh function. 'What is it, my man?'

'My name's Brackley, sir,' the man replied, tugging at his forelock. Sarah had never seen anyone do that before. 'Constable Faversham sent me to tell you that there's been a death in the village. Old Ben Tolliver.'

'Tolliver?' Sir Alexander thought for a moment. 'Isn't he that old fisherman whose wife died several years ago?'

'The same, sir,' Brackley agreed. 'We found his boat adrift earlier tonight, and him dead on the deck.'

'Natural causes?' asked the Doctor.

Brackley snorted. 'Not unless you count having half his head missing as natural, sir.'

'I see,' Sir Alexander said. 'Very well, tell Faversham I shall be with him first thing in the morning.'

'Aye, sir.' Brackley tugged his forelock again. 'Will you tell Doctor Martinson as well, please, as he'll be needed, too.'

He then slipped out of the front door. Sir Alexander sighed and pulled out a large gold pocket watch.

'I suppose I had better retire now,' he said. 'I will have to rise early. One of the drawbacks of being the local Justice of the Peace, I'm afraid. I have to sit on the Coroner's Court for every death. And I'll break the news to Doctor Martinson as well. He'll have to examine the body for the report.'

'Perhaps I could come along?' offered the Doctor. 'I may be of some use.'

'That's awfully decent of you,' Sir Alexander said. 'Eight sharp, then?'

'Absolutely.' The Doctor watched him leave and then turned to Sarah, his eyes sparkling with excitement. 'Isn't this intriguing?'

'Oh, yes,' gushed Sarah sarcastically. 'I've spent the evening being attacked by a mutant chihuahua with an att.i.tude and I get to spend tomorrow looking at mutilated corpses. It's the perfect holiday, isn't it?'

'Sarah, Sarah,' the Doctor chided her. 'Where's your sense of adventure?'

'I think it's still out there on the moors. That monster scared it out of me.' She scowled. 'Let me guess: you think this death might be connected to that thing we encountered?'

He gave her a big smile. 'It would have to be a rather large coincidence otherwise, wouldn't it?'

Sarah sighed. She knew when she was beaten. 'You think we could get a room for the night here?' she asked. 'If there's more walking to be done, I've got to rest my feet.'

'Let's ask Alice,' the Doctor suggested. 'She seems to be a kindly soul. I'm sure she'll take pity on your feet.'

'I'm glad somebody will,' muttered Sarah. Following the Doctor around seemed to be a habit she'd acquired and she dutifully wandered along, ignoring her protesting metatarsals. She snagged a sandwich, a slice of meat pie and another drink as they moved about the main hall, looking for their hostess. The food and drink helped to mellow Sarah's mood a little, but she was still in desperate need of a rest and was starting to suspect that the party would never wind down. It was like something from Dante's Inferno Inferno, where the giddy socialites might be doomed to spend eternity in one long round of dull social soirees. That would be h.e.l.l, all right.

Finally, though, they stumbled across Alice again. Naturally, before Sarah could ask about a bed for the night, there was another commotion at the door. This time it heralded the return of the hunting party. Sir Edward strode into the room, followed by Ross, Bridewell and Abercrombie.

'How was the hunt, Sir Edward?' called Captain Parker cheerily.

'd.a.m.ned pointless,' the host growled. 'I think it's high time we wound this blessed evening down, don't you?'

Alice had run across the room to hug her fiance, and to smile happily at her father. 'Of course, Papa,' she agreed. 'I'm so happy that you're all safe.'

'Safe?' her father barked. 'Of course we're safe. It was just a wild goose chase, when all is said and done.'

'Hardly that, Sir Edward,' Ross put in mildly. 'We've tracked the creature almost to its lair, and tomorrow we can finish it off.'

'What?' exclaimed the Doctor, catapulting out of the chair where he'd thrown himself. 'You'll do no such thing!'

Sir Edward appeared taken aback, and then he turned crimson. 'You again!' he thundered. 'What are you doing here?'

'You told us to meet you here,' the Doctor replied. 'So here we are.'

Their host glared at him again. 'I do not appreciate your questioning my decisions continually,' he said.

'Then stop making them without thinking,' suggested the Doctor blithely. 'This creature you're hunting is not some monster to be slaughtered, you know, and you're not Saint George spearing a dragon.'

'How dare you, sir?' thundered Sir Edward.

'It's about time someone told you the truth,' the Doctor snapped. 'I don't suppose you get a lot of that around here.'

Sir Edward was clearly not appreciating the Doctor's candour. 'That monster is slaughtering ponies and other wildlife in this area,' he said, struggling to keep his temper. 'It is a menace and must be killed.'

'It's just hunting for food,' the Doctor countered. 'You should attempt to capture it and study it. There's something unnatural about it.'

'You may study it as much as you wish,' Sir Edward countered, 'after I've made good and certain that the beast is dead.'

He poked a finger in the Doctor's face. 'The trouble with you scientific types is that you're too keen on studying from the ivory towers of your universities, and loath to get to grips with the real world.'

'And you're a typical military man,' retorted the Doctor. 'Anything you don't comprehend must be killed first and studied later.'

'Papa,' Alice broke in, attempting to sooth his ruffled feelings, 'the Doctor and Miss Smith are our guests. They're going to help Sir Alexander in the morning. Try to be a little kinder.'

'Sir Alexander?' her father asked. 'Whatever does he want their help with?'

'There's been a death in the village,' the Doctor explained.

'Really?' asked Ross, his curiosity clearly piqued. 'An unnatural one, I take it?'

'Very,' agreed the Doctor. He grinned. 'An eventful night, wouldn't you say?'

'Definitely,' Ross agreed. He gave a thin smile. 'And in such a pleasant, isolated community, too.'

'Odd, isn't it?' The Doctor returned the smile. 'And why are you here? Not a local, are you?'

'No more than you are. Doctor,' Ross replied. He made no effort to answer the other question, however.

Sarah frowned. There were obviously undercurrents at work here. She caught the black look that Sir Edward darted in Ross's direction. Obviously the host wasn't too much at ease with the guest. 'Look,' she broke in, 'it's late, and we're all tired. My feet are killing me. Can't we call it a night and start arguing again in the morning?'

'Miss Smith is right. Papa,' Alice said. 'We're all tired.' She smiled and rested her hand on his arm. 'And you are getting a little grouchy.'

For a moment it seemed as if Sir Edward was about to throw another tantrum. Then he patted his daughter's hand fondly. 'You're quite right, Alice. It is time to retire. Tomorrow is likely to be a busy day for us all.' He glared at the Doctor. 'Do you and your friend have anywhere to stay the night?' he growled. 'Courtesy forces me to offer you a room.'

'And forces me to accept,' the Doctor answered lightly. 'Thank you.'

Alice took Sarah's arm. 'You shall have the room adjoining mine,' she said. 'I'll show you the way and loan you a few necessities.'

'Thanks,' Sarah gave her a warm smile. It was impossible not to like the young woman. Anyone less like her aggressive, cantankerous father was difficult to imagine. Sarah nodded to the group. 'Good night.'

Alice gave her father a peck on the cheek, and another to her fiance. 'Good night.' Then she led Sarah up the marble stairs. 'You must forgive my father,' she said softly. 'He has a lot of responsibilities.'

'I understand,' Sarah told her. 'And you'll have to excuse my friend. He sometimes gets a little carried away with his ideas.'

Alice smiled. 'It sounds like we both have a lot of practice being tolerant,' she said. 'I'm glad to have met you, Miss Smith.'

'Sarah,' Sarah told her. 'You make me sound like a schoolteacher.'

'Sarah,' agreed Alice. She smiled. 'I hope we can be friends.'

'That would be nice.' Sarah couldn't help liking the young woman. She was very open and friendly. She only hoped that the Doctor and her father could resolve their differences. It would make things so much easier.

She knew from experience, however, how little chance there was of that occurring.

He lay in his lair, panting from exertion and licking his sore paws. His sides heaved and his head rang. It had been a hard chase, and he had been hunted as though he were some monster. But he wasn't! He couldn't help what he had become!

And he'd been forced to abandon his prey before he had done little more than taste it. His stomach cried out for food, but he didn't dare leave his lair again tonight. The men might still be waiting for him, with their guns. He didn't want to die, even if his fate was repugnant to him. He hated being the monster he had become, but he feared death more.

Why couldn't they just leave him alone? He didn't want to hurt anyone, even though he knew it would be easy to use his powerful jaws on a person. It would take less effort to kill a man than a pony. Men couldn't run as far or as fast.

But he couldn't kill! He had been human once. But not any more. Men treated him like he was a monster, hunting him, hounding him, never allowing him peace. Well, if that was what they wanted to make of him, maybe he should become what they expected. Maybe he should accept his fate, and be the monster that he had been transformed into against his will.

He recalled the look of revulsion and terror on the face of that lady he'd jumped over. He'd been careful not to hurt her, and she'd still been terrified and repulsed by him.

Well, if that was all they saw in him, then maybe that was all he should be.

He had to eat tomorrow. And if any hunter tried to stop him, then he would have no choice.

He would have to kill.

Interlude 1 Lucy he was growing used to her new world, and that scared her more than anything had so far in her life. She was used to Sfear. And uncertainty. And abuse. And hunger. She wasn't used to feeling useful, and that was what was scaring her. Of course, there was plenty to hate in this new world. The work, for one thing. The Guards forced everyone to work, even when the jobs didn't make sense, and sometimes even when they were obviously pointless. Lucy realized that it wasn't the work that mattered, just that they were all forced to do it. It showed Lucy and the others that their place in this new world was one of slaves.

That Lucy could understand. Her life before this had been bad enough. This was hardly much worse, if you didn't count the Change.

Of course, how could you not count the Change? That was what had brought them here, to this new world of theirs. It was different from the old world physically, but not much else had altered. She was still an orphan, still unprotected, still forced to live on the edge of death constantly. But now she had responsibilities too. The Guards had made that much clear.

She'd been the first, and she was the oldest here. It was her duty to teach the newcomers, to help them to adjust to the Change. To stop them killing themselves in despair. And to see that they worked. If they didn't work, the Guards would rough them up. And if they caused too many problems, like Tim had done, then the Guards killed.

And they forced the others to watch.

Lucy still had nightmares, still hearing Tim's screams, seeing the blood fountaining from his body as the Guards tore him apart. That had been horrifying, but what was worse was that the Guards had enjoyed it. They had been longing for someone else to give them the excuse to kill again. So far, Lucy had made certain that it had never occurred.

The day's work was done, and the Guards prodded them all back into the dormitory for the night. They had all eaten and there had been many days in her old life when Lucy had gone to bed feeling hunger eating at her insides. At least here they all ate, even if it was a monotonous diet. Her muscles ached from working, but she felt fairly good otherwise. It was nice to go to bed with a full stomach.

'Come along, everyone,' she called to the younger ones. 'It's time for bed now.'

'Tell us a story,' begged Vicki. She was one of the youngest here, only about eight. There were twenty of them now since Joshua had arrived two days ago. He still hurt from the Change, Lucy knew. And he was having troubles adjusting to this new life.

'Yes,' Joshua agreed. 'Tell us a story.'

Lucy hesitated. It would help him and the others if she could take their minds off their states. 'I don't know any,' she confessed miserably. 'I never learned to read, and my folks died when I was too young to be told any.'

'You know one story,' Vicki objected. 'You know your own.'

Lucy smiled. 'But you've heard that one dozens of times already,' she objected. 'You must know it by heart.'

'Joshua doesn't,' Lizzy pointed out. 'He's new. He'd like to hear it. You tell it so well.'

'Yes,' agreed Joshua eagerly. 'I want to hear it.'

Lucy shook her head and laughed, a clear, tinkling laugh of pure happiness. 'Oh, very well,' she agreed. As they gathered around her, she looked out at their expectant faces. 'Well, every good story starts with "Once upon a time . . . " '

Once upon a time, I lived in a nightmare. I don't remember my parents at all. When I grew up, I lived with an old man called Cherry. He was gruff and sometimes mean, but usually only when he got drunk. He didn't have much money, so he couldn't get drunk too often. When he did, I tried to hide away until he pa.s.sed out. If I couldn't, he'd hit me, and knock me around the little hut we lived in. He told me once that my father had been a sailor drowned at sea, and that my mother had died of grief, leaving me an unwanted orphan. He'd taken me in because he'd been related to my mother, and it was only out of the kindness of his heart. I didn't know he had any kindness, because he never showed it to me.

As soon as I could walk, he took me out onto the beaches and rocks. There he showed me how to scavenge for things brought in by the tide. Pieces of wood, mostly. He had a big knife that he used to carve the wood into all sorts of shapes.

Some of them I knew, like boats and things. Some of them I'd never seen: seals, for example. He used to be a whaler, he told me, and had often seen seals. He had gone off on a s.h.i.+p to a land of ice, where night had never come. I laughed once when he told me this, thinking he was making it up. That made him mad, and he hit me and swore it was all true.

It was funny, really. He didn't have much goodness inside of him, but he could really carve the wood into beautiful shapes. Then he'd take them into town once a week or so and sell them. With the money he'd get good and drunk, so I soon learned to hide away until he got over it. He felt sorry for himself because he couldn't go back on the s.h.i.+ps and off to hunt the whales and seals, you see. On his last trip his foot had been hurt, and he'd lost it. Instead of a real foot, he had a long piece of wood that he'd stomp about on. It made him slow, so I could dodge out of his way if I was lucky.