would keep
their beloved home and sanctuary for another year.
And Morgan would abandon it as he had every other home he had ever known.
The last, solitary figure to leave the big top moved with the deliberation of a man who
suffered the aches of old age and believed no one was watching. Morgan skirted the
edge of the lot and paused just outside of Harry's tent until he heard the sound of
pouring liquid and a satisfied sigh.
Bloodshot brown eyes looked up as Morgan entered. Harry set down his glass, and his
snowy moustache lifted in a grin.
"My dear boy," he said. "Pull up a stool. I believe that we can call our final performance
in Colorado Springs yet another triumph, don't you agree?" He lifted his bottle. "Perhaps
tonight? No, no, of course not." He took another swallow and smacked his lips. "All the
more for me!”
Morgan ducked his head. In many ways this was the most difficult, this farewell. Caitlin
was not naive, in spite of her small size and pixie's face. Ulysses was too pragmatic to
believe that Morgan would stay. But Harry
Harry French was still a child, unaffected
by the punishing hand of experience.
"It's all thanks to you, of course," Harry continued. "We have already found a lovely spot
for winter quarters, in Texas. Far better than the old one in Ohio. We will all have plenty
of rest and time to improve our acts." He chuckled. "No point in confining ourselves to
the smallest towns. All we need do is take care to avoid direct competition with the big
outfits. We may not be large, but we have the finest attractions in the west!”
To Catch a Wolf – 19th Century Werewolf 04
Page 53 of 410
"Harry—”
"Yes? Did you say something, my boy?”
Morgan steeled himself. "I am leaving, Harry.”
Harry grew very quiet. He set down his glass. "Well, well. We knew this day would
come, didn't we? Though I had hoped—”
"I am
grateful for what you did," Morgan said. His voice sounded rough and harsh,
and he made an effort to soften it. "You know that gratitude does not
come easy to
me.”
"Ah, yes. Yes, I know." He gave a small laugh that blew out his whiskers. "That makes it
so much more important when you give it.”
"Don't, Harry. I am not worth
this—”
"Feeling?" Harry didn't raise his eyes. "Feelings are difficult for you. I know that, too.
You are a man of few words, and yet
" He looked up, tears in his eyes. "I do not
believe you are a man of no sentiment. Otherwise you would not have come to make
your farewells.”
"You see what you wish to see.”
"My eyes are old and weak, but some things one sees with the heart. In some ways, for
all your abilities, you are blind, my son.”
"Do not call me that.”
To Catch a Wolf – 19th Century Werewolf 04
Page 54 of 410
Harry flinched from his snarl but remained where he was. "Forgive an old fool, Morgan. I
have made it a policy never to seek into the pasts of my people, and I have broken that
rule with you. I only wish
that I might convince you that you are a better man than you
think.”
Morgan's temples had begun to throb. The hair on the back of his neck stood up at the
premonition of disaster. "I came to say good-bye, and to
thank you." He backed
toward the tent's entrance and stood awkwardly for a final second, despising his
hesitation, and strode from the tent.
He got no farther than the foot of the hills. He had not Changed. His heart weighed him
down, cold and smothering like a heavy snowfall. He would have welcomed a strong
snow now. It would disperse the scents of those he left behind, and draw a veil between
the world and the wordless silence of the wild.
The solitude. The loneliness. A howl built in the back of his throat, the only sound of
grief he could make.
But the snow did not answer his summons. The sense of wrongness he had felt in
Harry's tent had grown. An evil scent wafted up from the prairie, the acrid smell of
smoke.
He turned to face the east. A roiling
their beloved home and sanctuary for another year.
And Morgan would abandon it as he had every other home he had ever known.
The last, solitary figure to leave the big top moved with the deliberation of a man who
suffered the aches of old age and believed no one was watching. Morgan skirted the
edge of the lot and paused just outside of Harry's tent until he heard the sound of
pouring liquid and a satisfied sigh.
Bloodshot brown eyes looked up as Morgan entered. Harry set down his glass, and his
snowy moustache lifted in a grin.
"My dear boy," he said. "Pull up a stool. I believe that we can call our final performance
in Colorado Springs yet another triumph, don't you agree?" He lifted his bottle. "Perhaps
tonight? No, no, of course not." He took another swallow and smacked his lips. "All the
more for me!”
Morgan ducked his head. In many ways this was the most difficult, this farewell. Caitlin
was not naive, in spite of her small size and pixie's face. Ulysses was too pragmatic to
believe that Morgan would stay. But Harry
Harry French was still a child, unaffected
by the punishing hand of experience.
"It's all thanks to you, of course," Harry continued. "We have already found a lovely spot
for winter quarters, in Texas. Far better than the old one in Ohio. We will all have plenty
of rest and time to improve our acts." He chuckled. "No point in confining ourselves to
the smallest towns. All we need do is take care to avoid direct competition with the big
outfits. We may not be large, but we have the finest attractions in the west!”
To Catch a Wolf – 19th Century Werewolf 04
Page 53 of 410
"Harry—”
"Yes? Did you say something, my boy?”
Morgan steeled himself. "I am leaving, Harry.”
Harry grew very quiet. He set down his glass. "Well, well. We knew this day would
come, didn't we? Though I had hoped—”
"I am
grateful for what you did," Morgan said. His voice sounded rough and harsh,
and he made an effort to soften it. "You know that gratitude does not
come easy to
me.”
"Ah, yes. Yes, I know." He gave a small laugh that blew out his whiskers. "That makes it
so much more important when you give it.”
"Don't, Harry. I am not worth
this—”
"Feeling?" Harry didn't raise his eyes. "Feelings are difficult for you. I know that, too.
You are a man of few words, and yet
" He looked up, tears in his eyes. "I do not
believe you are a man of no sentiment. Otherwise you would not have come to make
your farewells.”
"You see what you wish to see.”
"My eyes are old and weak, but some things one sees with the heart. In some ways, for
all your abilities, you are blind, my son.”
"Do not call me that.”
To Catch a Wolf – 19th Century Werewolf 04
Page 54 of 410
Harry flinched from his snarl but remained where he was. "Forgive an old fool, Morgan. I
have made it a policy never to seek into the pasts of my people, and I have broken that
rule with you. I only wish
that I might convince you that you are a better man than you
think.”
Morgan's temples had begun to throb. The hair on the back of his neck stood up at the
premonition of disaster. "I came to say good-bye, and to
thank you." He backed
toward the tent's entrance and stood awkwardly for a final second, despising his
hesitation, and strode from the tent.
He got no farther than the foot of the hills. He had not Changed. His heart weighed him
down, cold and smothering like a heavy snowfall. He would have welcomed a strong
snow now. It would disperse the scents of those he left behind, and draw a veil between
the world and the wordless silence of the wild.
The solitude. The loneliness. A howl built in the back of his throat, the only sound of
grief he could make.
But the snow did not answer his summons. The sense of wrongness he had felt in
Harry's tent had grown. An evil scent wafted up from the prairie, the acrid smell of
smoke.
He turned to face the east. A roiling
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