There was a distinct chill in the air when we left the cozy little Oak & Ivy pub just past ten that evening, and a faint mist hung in the air.

“There’ll be fog later,” Ben observed quietly as we walked down the road toward the park.

“Probably,” I said, my cane clicking softly with every other step. “At least the rain looks like it’s holding off. From the account we got earlier, this thing’ll be hard enough to spot in the dark, let alone if we add fog. Rain would just make it worse.”

“Assuming it comes out at all,” Athena added glumly from behind us. She was still feeling down about not having found anything during her search earlier.

“I’m sure we’ll see it,” Ben assured her. “It’ll be a good night for it to hunt.”

Ranging out ahead of us - as always - Artemis paused to look back at us. > She huffed, annoyed by our somber mood.

I chuckled softly.

“What’d she say?” Ben asked, already smiling.

“She said we should cheer up,” I reported, looking forward to his reaction to the next part. “Apparently, we should be pleased because the pack is going hunting together.”

Ben glanced over his shoulder at Athena, who smiled and shrugged, then he met my eyes. “Am I part of the pack, then?”

He sounded so very earnest and hopeful. I’d expected a teasing or joking response. This lightly worded but very serious question in response to what I felt was a rather silly statement caught me off guard.

“I guess you are,” I replied after a moment, then smiled at him. “I suppose you’ve earned a place in it...” I added in a teasing drawl, trying to lighten the mood further.

Ben flashed me the quick, boyish grin that always made something in my belly flutter pleasantly. “Good,” he nodded.

“Although,” I went on, “snow leopards technically don’t have packs or prides...normal ones, at least. They’re solitary animals, for the most part. Of course, my sisters are a different story.”

“Also,” Athena added, “A group of leopards is usually called a ‘leap’.”

Artemis put a paw over her eyes in a perfectly comical expression of dismay.

Ben and I both winced.

Athena shrugged whimsically. “Hey, I didn’t decide on it. I just saw it in a list. There’s no official name for a group of snow leopards, so…”

> Artemis said, lowering her paw and glaring at Athena.

I repeated her comment to Ben, and he laughed.

“How about a ‘drift’?” I asked teasingly.

Now it was Athena’s turn put a hand over her face.

“I think we can all agree that ‘pack’ is a better term,” Ben said. “At least for now.”

Artemis gave him a pointed look. > Then she turned and started trotting ahead of us again.

Athena choked out a laugh and hid it behind her hand.

“What did she say?” Ben asked, smiling.

I shook my head, trying not to laugh myself. “I’m not repeating that one.”

“Oh, come on!” Ben cajoled. “You can’t leave me hanging like that.” He took my left hand and we started walking again.”

“Oh yes I can,” I retorted. “Some things don’t need to be repeated.”

Behind us, Athena couldn’t stop giggling.

“Why do I have the feeling I was just put in my place?” Ben asked in mock despair.

Our teasing mood lasted right up until we reached the edge of the park, then quickly sobered.

“Okay,” Ben said, “I’ll be the first to admit it. This park is kind of creepy at night.”

The wide grassy swath, dotted here and there with benches, the swing set, a jungle gym and a gazebo, had looked beautiful, friendly and inviting even on a gray and rainy day. At night, with the mist already turning into a light fog that was muffling sound and the two small lights - one by the swings and another inside the gazebo - it had a distinctly sinister quality to it.

Which could, I reflected, also have been a psychic side-effect created by the presence of the creature we were there to find.

“How do you want to do this?” I asked Ben.

“Athena and Artemis should go to the gazebo, like we discussed,” he replied. “It has that low wall around it...they should be out of sight there, but still close by and able to tell what’s going on.

Athena nodded. “Between our natural senses and our bond with Alys, we should be OK.”

“And you and I,” Ben said to me, squeezing my hand, “Will go sit on the swings and be bait.”

“Couldn’t we find a different way to put it?” I asked quietly, vividly remembering the last time Ben and I had played bait to lure something out. The ghost of the Thames Slasher had been at least partly under Brenna’s control at the time, and she’d caused it to attack Ben so brutally that it had dislocated his shoulder, broken his nose and cracked a couple of his ribs before I’d been able to stop it.

“Relax, love, this is nothing like that,” Ben assured me.

“Yeah,” Athena said, a little grimly. “For one thing, I’m not letting my guard down this time.”

Even though there’s been nothing she could do against the Slasher’s ghost, Athena still felt a little guilty about not having warned us faster when she’d begun to suspect our minders had disappeared.

“Athena -“ I began.

She shook her head and started away towards the pavilion. “Come on, Artemis!”

Artemis paused and looked back and forth between us for a moment, gave what was distinctly a shrug of her shoulders, and followed her sister into the darkened park.

> I sent after her, >

> she shot back. Then, apologetically, she added, >

I smiled, a little relieved. >

Her only reply was a mental snort and a burst of amusement, but I could sense that her equilibrium had returned. I wasn’t the only one who’d walked away from the events of April with lingering scars. But Athena’s were healing, just like mine were.

“Everything okay?” Ben asked, squeezing my hand to draw my attention.

I nodded and squeezed back. “We will be, eventually.”

He gave me a long, searching look, then nodded his understanding. And he would understand, too. He’d stood steadfastly by us through the therapy, the violent mood swings and bouts of depression, doing everything in his power to keep our spirits up. I had reason to believe he’d dealt with his own traumas in the past, and understood first-hand the emotional and psychological land mines Athena and I frequently stepped on.

At least, it certainly seemed that way. Either that or he was literally reading our minds.

I looked up at him as we walked towards the swings. “Ben...”

“Hmm?” He looked down at me in return, then stopped walking when he saw the serious look on my face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” I replied. “I just...I don’t think I’ve thanked you for everything you’ve done for Athena, Artemis and me over the last few months.”

He looked surprised, then smiled. “You don’t have to. I’m suitably rewarded every time one of you smiles at me.”

“That is probably the sappiest thing I’ve ever heard you say,” I replied with a little laugh. Then I lifted up on my toes and gave him a quick kiss. “Thank you anyway.”

“You’re welcome anyway,” he replied, hugging me for a moment. Then he led me the rest of the way to the swings with an arm around my shoulders. “Here, have a seat and I’ll give you a push.”

“You’re joking!”

“I’ll bet you’ve never had someone push you on a swing,” Ben said teasingly.

I thought back and was a little surprised to discover that he was probably right. I’d never really had any friends my own age growing up; when you’re the golden-haired, golden-eyed and pointy-eared half-Sidhe daughter of an unmarried mother in a very traditional Druidic community, the word ‘outsider’ gets used. A lot. And children can be more vicious than most adults are willing to admit.

My mom might’ve pushed me on a swing when I was very little, but if she had I couldn’t remember it.

Ben grinned. “See? Sit down, love.”

I frowned at him. “Are you reading my mind?”

“Your expressions,” he said. “You have an eloquent face.” He gently pushed me into one of the swings, took my cane and stuck it in the soft ground where I’d be able to reach it easily, then moved around behind me. “Hold onto the chains, now...”

I shook my head, laughed in spite of myself, and did as he said. A few moments later he had me swinging gently, giving me little pushes each time I swung back towards him.

> Athena said telepathically from the pavilion. >

> I replied, and my thoughts were probably glowing with it.

I could almost hear my familiars purring contentedly from there. >

“What’re they saying?” Ben asked from behind me.

I tipped my head back a little. “How could you tell they were talking to me?”

“You went still, like you were listening to something,” he replied. “I made an educated guess. It’s easier when I can see your face...you get this far away sort of look on your face, like you’re listening to something nobody else can hear.” He slowed my swinging and caught me, wrapping his arms around me from behind. “Which is true, actually. It took me a while to realize what I was seeing, but now I can usually tell.”

I tipped my head back against his chest and looked up at him. “That’s really sweet.”

He smiled down at me. “I’m a sweet kind of guy.” Then he bent and gave me an upside-down kiss.

> Athena repeated, her amusement rippling across to me.

> Artemis grumped, but her emotions - warm and affectionate - undercut her grouchy comment. >

“Athena says we’re behaving like lovesick teenagers,” I reported to Ben once he straightened from our kiss. “Artemis reminds us that we’re supposed to be paying attention to our surroundings.”

“They’re both right,” he admitted, a little sheepishly. He moved around and sat down on the swing beside mine, facing in the other direction as he looped his arms lightly around the chains. “It won’t be nearly as much fun this way, though.”

I smiled a little. “We’re not here to have fun though, are we.”

Ben sighed. “You’re right. Being around you makes me want to make you happy...” He said the last part very softly, and I wondered if he hadn’t meant me to hear. Or maybe even hadn’t meant to say it out loud at all.

My smile grew, and I stretched out my left foot to nudge his leg. “You can make me happy tomorrow. Tonight, we keep each other safe and stop a monster.”

Even in the dim light of the lamp above us, I could tell he was blushing. “Right. Safe tonight, happy tomorrow. Got it.”

Over the next two hours, we settled into a rhythm. One of us would be up and walking around the swings, while the other would be sitting and watching. If we were both sitting at the same time, we faced in opposite directions to make sure nothing could sneak up on us.

When I began studying investigation techniques for my Wizard qualification exams, one of the things Hollis Ellister - my employer and current teacher - had explained to me was how much harder a quiet investigation could be than an active one. In an active investigation, you chase, pursue, fight, and are pretty much constantly doing something. It’s exhausting. It can push you to both your physical and mental limits, and sometimes beyond them.

During the week I’d spent helping to clear the spirits out of the old asylum that had been my very first job for Hollis, I’d been getting little more than three or four hours of sleep a night. There was just too much to do for me to get more rest than that.

I’d slept almost constantly for three days when it was done.

The other type of investigation - the type we were engaged in now - is actually more trying, in my opinion.

Hours of doing nothing, waiting for something to happen.

For my money, watching and waiting with nothing else to do is much harder than any physical chase. And I hadn’t slept well in weeks. So I was embarrassed but not terribly surprised when Athena’s whispered > startled me out of a light doze.

> I replied, rubbing my eyes and feeling entirely too sheepish. >

>

I reached out to touch Ben’s shoulder and found him turning towards me already. Oh, how I hoped he hadn’t noticed me dozing off. “How...?” I started to ask.

He gave me a little smile. “I heard the gasp when you woke up. Athena give you a mental nudge?”

I sighed. Busted. “Yes,” I said quietly. “Incoming, eleven o’clock from my facing.”

Ben rose and stretched casually, turning to look in that direction.

“You know,” Ben whispered, “it might have approached from your direction because it saw you dozing off.”

“That doesn’t make me feel a whole lot better about it. You should’ve woken me up,” I replied, more sharply than I’d intended. I winced. This was no time for me to lose control of my emotions. “Sorry.”

“No problem,” he said lightly, already used to my occasional lapses. “I don’t see anything, do you?”

I peered into the darkness. Between the deep, cloudy night and the low ground fog, I couldn’t see much of anything more than a few feet beyond the circle of light cast by the lamp above us. Not for the first time, I was a little jealous of my familiars’ superior night vision.

“No,” I said. “What time is it, anyway?”

“Five minutes past two,” Ben whispered.

“It’s pretty consistent, anyway,” I murmured. >

> Artemis replied. >

Feline and canine familiars are usually extremely good at sensing the supernatural. It’s a like a sixth (or maybe seventh or eighth) sense for them, and often manifests as things smelling ‘wrong’ to them. If a feline or canine familiar tells you that someone or something doesn’t smell right, pay attention.

> Athena added. >

“I don’t see what else it could be,” I muttered.

“Pardon?” Ben asked.

“The girls smell and hear it, but they can’t see anything other than the fog moving a little in a line towards us,” I reported.

“Ah.” Ben moved around behind me, resting his hands on my shoulders and rubbing gently. “Damnable fog,” he muttered. “Hey, I don’t suppose you could quickly whip up a bit of wind to blow the fog away.”

“Easily,” I said with a nod. “And if the thing is at all sensitive to magic, it’ll immediately know that we’re not a couple of tender young teenagers for it to gnaw on.”

“Good point.”

“I make those once in a while,” I said with a small smile.

“True,” he agreed. Then I felt his left hand leave my shoulder. “What can you sense?”

I lifted my left hand as well, spread my fingers, and concentrated.

Slowly, I began to see the flow of Anima around me. Living things - and even some dead and inanimate things - have their own auras, mostly faint blues and golds that represented health and growing things.

Athena and Artemis, for example, were glowing blobs of greenish-gold energy. Another green blob wheeled overhead...probably a nocturnal bird or a bat. The woods seemed faintly luminous in eerie shades of blue and green.

As a generality, and like most elements of Hermetic magic, the colors that make up auras are largely subjective. I saw blues, golds and greens as healthy colors. Silver and white as indicative of intense magic, and darker, murkier colors as representative of darker things. Other people saw them differently, and each Hermetic spellcaster had to draw their own conclusions as to what they meant. Quite often, a teacher would train a student to see auras the same way they did; my personal image of the way auras looked was nearly identical to Jonathan Tremane’s for example.

Everyone agreed on two points, though: First, shades of red tended to indicate violent emotions and magic; second, that black represented the very darkest of magics and most evil of emotions. A black aura never, ever indicated anything good.

A blob of black energy was slowly crawling along the ground towards us, a trail of blackish residue leading back to the woods. I shivered a little.

“Something’s coming,” I whispered, “and it’s not nice.”

“Agreed,” Ben said quietly. He’d probably been doing the same thing. “Get ready.”

I reached out and took hold of my cane as I released my aura-sight spell, my eyes trying in vain to see whatever was coming towards us. As useful as viewing auras is, it’s essentially just viewing energy...and I was probably about to start calling up and throwing Anima around. Energy is energy.

> Artemis reported suddenly, sounding excited. >

> I asked.

> Artemis replied immediately.

I sighed. I loved Artemis dearly for her simplistic view of the world and startlingly insightful (and often very funny) comments. But sometimes it worked against me.

> Athena added, amused. >

> “The girls say it’s starting to circle us, counter-clockwise.”

Ben grunted. “I’ll take their word for it. I can’t see a damned thing out there.”

“Interesting choice of words,” I joked weakly. “What if that’s what it is.”

“Then I’ll be highly amused.”

From the darkness beyond the edge of the lamp’s circle of light, off to our left a bit, something growled quietly. Or at least made a noise that my mind registered as a growl.

“Enough of this,” Ben murmured. “It knows we’re here, it’s come out, and it’s stalking us. Light it up.”

I nodded. “Cover your eyes.” > Then I thrust my cane into the air.

My cane. Knowing that I was going to be stuck with one for a while during my recovery, Jonathan and my mom had gone to the trouble of having a special one made for me. Its shaft was dark ironwood, as hard as steel and well able to take enchantments. Its head was a steel alloy molded in the shape of a running snow leopard, and with a clever locking mechanism the cane concealed a slender smallsword.

I had plans to make the cane a magical tool of greater flexibility and utility than my old wizard’s staff (which Brenna had shattered during our fight). So far, I’d just had enough time to engrave on it the runes for collecting and channeling Anima more efficiently - getting more ‘bang for your buck’, as the saying goes.

But that was enough for my purposes tonight. I shaped a light spell in my mind, and wordlessly channeled Anima through the staff and released it.

I used to do my spellcasting in broken Gaelic. But honestly, it’s kind of a handful, and while the language is poetically beautiful, it’s a hair’s breadth too imprecise for really focused spellcasting. It had failed me when I’d tried to wrench Ben away from the Thames Slasher’s ghost (the meaning of the phrase I’d chosen had been so vague that my intentions were muddled and the spell hadn’t gone off quite as intended), and it had slowed me down painfully during my fight with Brenna. So over the past few months, I’d fallen back on Jonathan and Hollis’s preferred medium for verbal focuses: Broken Latin.

The results are better and faster, if not quite as pretty to hear. For a simple light spell, however, I’d cast it so many times that I didn’t need the extra focus.

The head of my cane suddenly radiated brilliant light, turning night to day. Then the light lifted off the top of my cane and floated up another ten feet, expanding the sun-bright illumination wider and wider.

I rose, taking a step forward away from Ben and quickly swung my cane in a circle around my head as I channeled more Anima through it. This spell I hadn’t used as often, so I took the extra precaution of packing it in a verbal Focus, calling out “Afflo!”

Wind rushed out from my cane in a circular motion, sweeping up the fog and blowing it out away from us. With the fog cleared and the brilliant ball of almost-sunlight giving us a clear view of everything around us, we got a good look at the creature.

I immediately wished I hadn’t.

Its skin was an oily, glossy-looking black and perfectly smooth. Its head, roughly humanoid, was bald and had no visible ears or face...then I realized that the face was currently pressed into the ground. It wasn’t on its back, it was on its chest - what I guessed was its chest anyway.

I’d been momentarily confused by the one detail Tim and Liz had remembered clearly. Its legs were, as they’d indicated, distinctly backwards from a human’s. Completely so, in fact. The knees bent in reverse so that with its legs pulled in, they were pointed to the sky, and its feet - which I couldn’t get a clear look at yet - were definitely attached relative to the knees rather than the rest of the body.

If it could walk upright, you’d have to track it in reverse.

It had arms, but they hung limply at its sides at the moment, tucked in close with fingers splayed loosely. The claws...god, the claws. They gleamed brightly at the ends of its fingers and toes, wickedly curved and long enough that a good three inches were visible even though they were dug into the soft earth.

Then it lifted its head, and I actually took a step back in a mixture of surprise and primal, instinctive horror.

Human beings are hard-wired to expect faces. Even the most hideous face of the most demonic creature provides familiar features and can - with practice - be read for recognizable emotions. It’s not uncommon for people to have nightmares about creatures with no faces...and it’s a terrifying thing, looking at something that you feel should have a face but doesn’t. There’s no way to judge emotions or state of mind. Or even make some kind of connection.

This creature had no eyes - not even any eye sockets. It had no nose or nostrils. Where its face should have been, there was a completely blank space, as smooth and oily and black as the rest of its skin.

Except for a mouth.

There was a vicious slash where a mouth would normally appear on a face, but it was too wide and filled with a double row of shark-like teeth. The creature grinned constantly, but it wasn’t a friendly grin. It was the sort of grin that promises a painful, violent death.

All of my concentration focused on this strange creature, even as my body shivered with instinctive fear. I couldn’t discern its motives, and tried very hard not to assume that it was hostile based on that mouth. Would it be possible to communicate with it? Maybe figure out what it wanted, and if it wasn’t violent get it to go away?

As I stared at it, features began to form above its mouth. I was surprised, but looked more closely. Maybe this was a sign that it wanted to communicate with us. I watched in fascination as a nose formed, and eyes. Cheekbones, and a delicate jawline. It never grew hair or eyebrows...but when the golden-hued eyes opened, it was impossible not to recognize my own face.

My own features poised above that wide, vicious slash of a mouth.

Was this its way of communicating? Was it trying to tell me something? I thought I heard Ben saying something, but it wasn’t nearly as important as maintaining eye contact with this creature - now that it had eyes - so that I could figure it out.

I felt dizzy. All the strength seemed to rush out of my body at once. I felt my right knee buckle, and the world seemed to be tipping oddly.

Was I falling?