He would make his pact, serve out his time, and leave without regret.
Sunset was driving shadows down into the valley when he reached the woods above the camp. He sensed the wrongness at once, and the alien scents of strangers. Cries came faintly from the cluster of wagons and tents. Morgan set off at a fast run down the hillside.
The handful of men who were causing the trouble might have been rowdies from the nearest town, grubstakers who had lost their claims, or even desperados from over the New Mexico border. They, like wolves, would attack where they saw weakness, but they took joy in the tormenting.
One brawny fellow staggered under Caitlin’s insignificant weight while she pummeled his head and shoulders; Harry was wringing his hands and shouting warnings from the sidelines, and the oversized trouper, Tor, had two of the other townies by their collars. The fourth invader held Ulysses Wakefield suspended in his arms.
“Sir,” Ulysses said with impeccable dignity, “You are mistaken if you believe that we have anything worth stealing. I have no wish for violence.”
“Violence!” the ruffian spat. “Why, you li’l speck—”
Morgan plunged among them and seized Ulysses’s tormenter around the ankle. Teeth pierced wool and flesh. The man yelped and dropped the dwarf. Ulysses curled into a tumble and jumped to his feet, brushing off his clothing. His eyes met Morgan’s. He nodded, slowly, unsmiling.
Morgan wheeled about on his hind feet and went for Caitlin’s opponent.
“Wolf!” the first man cried. “It’s a wolf!” Like the coward he was, he took off as fast as his limp would allow. Caitlin leaped from her adversary’s back, and he dashed after his fellow. Tor’s two captives picked themselves off the ground and followed suit. Morgan let them go.
“That should teach them,” Caitlin said, slapping the dust from her hands. She eyed Morgan. “About time you showed up.”
From all parts of the camp, the other troupers gathered close against the night. Children ran from the tents, whooping at the excitement as their parents scolded them. Morgan stood at the center of the loose circle, as alien as he had ever been, and Changed.
There were a few gasps, and murmurs, and one exclamation. No one fled. Harry, Caitlin, and Ulysses drew near, with Tamar close behind. Moonlight silvered the skin of the snake charmer, unearthly in her beauty, whose creatures coiled and rustled about her shoulders.
“So it is true,” she said, looking at Caitlin. “He is what you claimed.”
“And he can save us, Tamar. He is one of us.”
“He is one of us,” Ulysses repeated gravely.
“Welcome,” Harry said, clapping Morgan on his bare shoulder. “Welcome and thanks, my boy. Your return was most timely indeed.” He rubbed his hands and beamed at them all. “My dears, I think it is best if we move on straightaway. If one band of ruffians has discovered us, others may as well. We have much to prepare now that our new friend has joined us, new towns to conquer.” His eyes lit up like a child’s. “The Wolf-Man,” he said. “We have much to do!”
Tamar slipped closer to Morgan. The patches of scaly skin on her bare arms winked and glistened. “Will you share my wagon tonight, Wolf-Man?”
Caitlin snorted. The twined snakes on Tamar’s shoulders reared up.
Ulysses stepped between them. “Mr. Holt can, I believe, decide for himself.”
“I’ll walk,” Morgan said. He met Harry’s gaze. “I owe you a debt. I will repay it.”
“I know you will, dear boy. Your generosity—”
“I am neither generous nor honorable. I don’t want your thanks. I don’t want anything from any of you.”
“Someday,” Caitlin said, “you’ll need someone, Morgan Holt. I hope I’m there when it happens.”
She marched away toward the tents, and the others followed. Morgan remained where they had left him, listening to the snap of canvas, the stamps and snorts of the horses, and the soft calls of the troupers and crew as they broke camp. He made himself blind to the stars that had been his only roof for so many years, deaf to the summons of the wilderness and the deep terror in his heart.