Blood seeped from a cut along the blynx’s flank. Her breaths came short and fast. A moment ago, she was fury incarnate, but now she was spent--her legs collapsing under her when she tried to stand.

We approached cautiously, our mana flowing liberally into the wooden bowl gifted by the stonewater serpent. The Grace spell unfurled.

Prior, we learned that the spell’s effects were dulled against animals with strong predatory instincts, but the weakened blynx wasn’t able to resist. The thrill of alarm within her eased, muffled by the understanding we meant no harm.

The kittens must’ve been caught within the boundary of the spell’s effects, because they tumbled out of the hollowed log. About two months old, they cried at the scent of blood in the air and in want of their mother’s milk.

“Easy now,” we said gently. “Let us take care of her wound first.”

They didn’t listen, so we shielded their mother’s body while gathering the mana to cast Healing Water. That’s when we felt sharp pin pricks climbing our back as the kittens ascended to our shoulders. Their goal achieved, they watched us work from their new perches.

The eagle’s talons had cut their mother such that a flap of flesh hung loose along her side. We washed the wound clean and arranged the flap so that it fell as it would’ve if she were healthy. Then we poured Healing Water to stop the bleeding and close the gap.

Sparkles of delight arose within us. This never gets old.

The blynx’s breathing steadied; enough for us to feel comfortable moving her into the hollowed tree, away from the dead eagle. We did so cautiously. Although she didn’t struggle, she kept her eyes on us and the kittens riding our shoulders.

Once settled in the hollow, the kittens jumped to the ground and latched onto her teats. We stepped back from the nursing mother. The Grace spell was about to end.

When it did, the blynx stood, dislodging her kittens, and she put herself between them and us. We were ready with another Grace spell, but she didn’t attack.

Carefully, we moved back toward the giant eagle. The mother blynx had snacked on the fawn earlier, but she was probably still hungry. Ready with another Grace spell in case it was necessary, we pulled feathers from the eagle’s breast until there was enough space to access the meat underneath.

We tossed slices toward the blynxes. After the fifth one, she overcame her hesitation and started to devour them. We smiled then and separated our consciousnesses. While I remained cautious, I felt like we overcame a major hurdle. Also, there was enough easy food available that I didn’t worry about the blynx attacking. The only reason she’d do so now was to protect her kittens, and I wasn’t planning on approaching any of them without Grace’s influence. Not yet anyway.

It was a shame about the eagle’s eyes. They were supposed to be valuable. At least the heart was intact, as were the flight feathers and talons. Those were the other bits that I was told would sell well. Maybe not right away though. I’d store them at the glen until things settled down in the village.

Oh, and there was the silverlight too:

235 silverlight gathered. 212 absorbed.

Holy fish, that was a lot. What level was this bad boy? All I knew was that he was dusk, which meant at least fifth level.

The mother blynx watched as I absorbed the eagle’s core. Interestingly, she didn’t seem tempted by the silverlight at all. That disregard was something Tegen mentioned to me during his lessons, but it was my first time seeing it in action.

Apparently, most animals didn’t absorb silverlight or darklight. Or, if they did, only a certain amount before stopping. The reason being: the more light they had, the more tempting a target they became. Absorbing light, therefore, was a dangerous game of risk and reward.

While becoming powerful was one way to survive, it was just as valid a strategy to travel in the company of a dusk or dawn packmate. Or to mate with them and pass along their traits to their offspring.

Thinking about it, that’s what the people of Voorhei did. The majority of silverlight went to the heads of Families, except for the taxed portion which went to the village’s leadership. They chose to centralize the light into fewer, more powerful figures instead of spreading it around.

Silverlight 1071/2250

I was almost halfway to Level 4. Only five or six more giant eagles and I’d be there. I couldn’t help chuckling at the thought.

“Excuse me, Missus. Don’t be alarmed, but I’m going to move this body, so that it doesn’t attract scavengers to your den.”

Easier said than done, of course. The giant eagle was light for its size but still two or three hundred pounds. The best I could do was to manhandle the wings close to the body and use a pair of stout tree branches as levers to roll the body away.

Gods, but the Bear’s Strength spell would’ve come in handy. I really should consider it for my next spell. Or would Spark be a better way to go? The opportunity to study lightning qi before the King’s hunt would be invaluable.

Focus, Ollie. There’s a dangerous boy-eating animal just a few yards away.

When I was done moving the eagle’s body, I swept the remaining blood and gore away. The results weren’t perfect, but hopefully they’d be good enough.

Out of breath, sweaty and bloody, I plopped down near the blynx den. “You know, there’s this lovely cave you’re welcome to stay at. It’s never too hot or too cold, and there’s all the food you’d want to eat. My friend Ikfael lives there. You’d like her. She’s quite Talented. A little standoffish, but she has a heart of gold.” I unfurled the Grace spell once more and felt it spread through me, connecting me to all the living things nearby.

The spell eased the tension in the mother blynx, and she slipped out of the den to blink out of the spell’s range. I jumped up in surprise, but then sat back down when she came back. She’d brought an eagle feather to cover the den’s entrance. The kittens found it fascinating, though, and kept knocking it over.

That’s how the rest of the afternoon went. Me resting until my mana recovered for another Grace spell. The kittens playing with the three-foot long feather. The mother watching them, me, and the world from the mouth of the den.

An hour before dark, I said my goodbyes and left for the glen. Taming the blynxes was a long-term project, and I planned to return tomorrow and the day after. The process should speed up, though, once I recovered the portion of Yuki currently hiding in Bihei’s longhouse; assuming the mother blynx was willing to take them into her body, of course. I wouldn’t force her. Now that we’d shared Grace, I couldn’t imagine doing so or hurting them in any way.

###

The next morning, I hurried to make Ikfael’s breakfast and rushed back to the den. There’d been another rainstorm overnight, and the ground was muddier than the day before; the way slick and slippery.

At the site where I dumped the giant eagle’s body, I found the carcass missing. The only signs that it’d been there were a few stray feathers and churned mud. A struggle had taken place for possession of the body.

I was anxious about the blynxes, but took the time to identify the prints: wolves, several of them and big too. They’d surrounded and harassed… was that an owl print? If it was, then the bird was even bigger than the giant eagle.

How terrifying. Owls were incredible predators, silent and deadly. I’d have to be careful when traveling at night. As for the wolves, their territory was further south. Were they losing their territorial battles?

In any case, the prints were hours old, and I didn’t find any evidence that either the owl or the wolves lingered. I ran to the den, but there was no need to worry. The mother and kittens were safely inside.

I pulled out the Grace bowl and a slice of leftover eagle meat. “Breakfast time.”

The rest of the day and the next passed uneventfully. I didn’t encounter any more predators traveling to and from the den, and as the blynxes grew more comfortable with my presence, my wariness eased. I started meditating outside their den to provide the energy for repeated casts of the Grace spell.

The only interference was when we heard creatures moving through the forest nearby. The kittens were too young to Camouflage, so the mother picked them up and carried them deeper into the den whenever that happened. As for me, I was ready to ambush anything (within reason--no dragons, please) that came close. A lot of time and energy was being invested into taming the blynxes, and I meant to protect that investment. Plus, the kittens were dang cute.

Tomorrow, I was due in Voorhei for a scheduled training. That would last a couple of days, and then I’d come right back to pick up where I left off.

###

My mood grew heavy on the way to the village, and it stuck throughout my visit. It wasn’t just me either. The villagers were distracted by the upcoming hunt for the King of the Forest. The hunters, in particular, had that faraway look ball players got before a big game.

Well, it shouldn’t have been surprising. The lightning bear was the biggest game in the woods.

My talks with Inleio, Mumu, and my team were stiff. We all kept secrets, and that made for awkward gaps in our conversations. The ease with which I was used to talking with them was missing.

I didn’t tell them about the giant eagle and the blynxes. There was just something in me that thought it would be wise to keep some cards hidden. I’d consider revealing them later, once this mess with Borba and Ghitha was done with and I had the chance to reevaluate my trust in the lodge.

Ugh. I hated the feeling when people slipped from their pedestals; when their failings became evident and they proved themselves imperfect. My stomach sank every time. One would think I’d have learned my lesson by now, but stubbornness ran in my family.

I still liked Inleio, Mumu, and all the rest. The only difference was that I now had to acknowledge they were human, with all the faults and imperfections that came along with it.

Well, good and bad often came bundled together. I’d have to remember that as I learned from them, and they hopefully learned from me. We’d just have to navigate our differences along the way. And there was no time like the present to get started.

I retold the story of Ikiira and the dangers of abusing darklight to every hunter who’d listen. Wide-eyed and innocent, I regaled them with the heroism of Ikiira’s sacrifice. In doing so, I boosted Ikfael’s standing, while also reminding them about the reason for the village’s taboo against using darklight.

If Inleio was angry as a result, he didn’t show it. He worked me to the bone during training, but then, he always did that. The only difference was that many more hunters joined the sessions. He even scheduled extra, which practically every hunter attended.

At the end of the final session, before I went back to the glen the next day, Inleio made an announcement: Borba had volunteered to become a mule for the lightning bear’s hunt. He was doing it in service to the village and to make amends for the crime of murdering Grunthen.

The room gasped. Whatever exhaustion the hunters felt, evaporated. They became rowdy, and called out questions.

“How do we know Borba murdered Grunthen?”

“He confessed,” Inleio said, “under the effects of the truth-telling tea.”

“But why did he do it?”

“He loved Kiertie, and learned that Grunthen turned coward and left her to die to the lightning bear.”

“What about Borba’s team? What do they say?”

“They know. I asked Borba to speak to them about his crime, and they support him in his decision.”

“Using darklight is wrong. What if the spirits punish us? What if Borba loses control and attacks one of us?”

“It is Borba and Borba alone who will eat the darklight. He is doing so under careful supervision. We are also cancelling all the hunts prior to the lightning bear. We don’t want anyone to get hurt beforehand, and we’ll use the time to prepare.”

“What about meat for the village?”

“The lodge will use its stores to meet any shortages.”

The questions continued for another hour, but they were variations of what had already been asked. It was the gossips, intent on prying loose the details of Grunthen’s sensational death. No doubt, the news would spread through the whole village by nightfall.

Afterward, several hunters approached. They knew I’d been investigating Grunthen’s murder, and were curious if I was somehow involved.

“We’re all involved,” I said. “Grunthen’s death was a tragedy that affects the whole village. That’s why we all need to work together to defeat the lightning bear and, afterward, to make sure no one else is forced to become a mule to make amends for a crime. We should be helping each other perfect our paths, not leading each other astray.”

Did my story-telling rush Inleio’s revelation of Borba’s fate? If so, it wasn’t my intention to force his hand. I’d already conceded the short-term, and was looking more toward permanent change.

Ah, who knew that watching politicians pivot during their debates would prove so useful in another world.

###

Yuki and I checked on Ghitha later that night. He was furious at the loss of a pawn and worried that his involvement in the murders would come to light. Stupid, stupid Borba. Ghitha knew the man felt guilty, but enough to confess? That was unexpected.

Fortunately, there were no witnesses to Bindesei’s death, and Ghitha never talked to anyone about it. No, he was safe; his only crime was not accusing Borba of murder. But then, he’d never said he had any evidence. The fool Borba believed him from the beginning and never asked how he knew.

Supposedly, that boy Eight could see spirits, but the dead were silent, a Blessing of the god Tenna to keep them from influencing the living. Still, it would be best to avoid the Hunter’s Lodge and stay close to home. Anything to be done, could be done by Banan’s team. They were certainly paid well enough. The state of the Family’s coffers attested to that.

Which would change soon. Ghitha only needed to hold out until the King of the Forest was dead and the caves beyond the bear’s den were accessible. It would take time to find the eilesheile without Kiertie’s map, but he trusted Banan’s team to do it. They were competent, unlike those in Voohei’s lodge. All Ghitha had to do was to last three tendays.

###

The kids were in a good mood at dinner that night. They’d heard about Borba becoming a mule, and the consensus was that it improved the chances of a successful hunt. Their attitude surprised me.

“But isn’t it bad to absorb darklight?” I asked.

“Yes,” Billisha said. “Don’t do it, or it’ll lead you astray from your path.”

“So why is it all right for Borba to absorb darklight?”

“Because that’s his decision,” Billisha said.

“But if he was forced to do it as part of his punishment?”

“Then the choice began when he murdered Grunthen.” Billisha looked at me like all this should be obvious.

Exasperated, I said, “If it’s wrong to absorb darklight, then it’s wrong, no matter the circumstances. The lodge is forcing Borba to stray from his self, from his being. I can’t think of a worse thing to do to a person.”

Billisha shook her head. “It’s wrong for you to absorb darklight, Zasha, because you must be protected. For others? If they choose to do so and it helps our Family to survive, then we let it be.”

So practical, our Billisha. I remembered then that--before the attack on her village--she was in training to one day take over their Skinner’s Lodge. Were all lodge masters this utilitarian?

She saw my dissatisfaction with her answer. “The Gods blessed us with the power to choose, Zasha. It’s not our place to limit their blessing. All we can do is to make the best choices ourselves, and make the most of others’ choices.” Billisha smiled sadly. “My father… he used to say that whenever he faced a difficult decision.”

“A wise man then, your father.”

Billisha nodded. “Mmm. He was.”

The mood shifted as the others began to think of their lost loved ones. I wanted to continue discussing darklight, but their melancholy overwhelmed the meal. It occurred to me then that I was being an ass. The lesson on darklight could wait.

I knew too little about the kids’ lives before I met them--of their Families and their village. The same was true about Bihei and her life before she met us.

“Tell me about him,” I said to Billisha. “About your father. And your mother and the rest of your Family. Let’s remember them tonight and honor what they passed on to you.”

The request surprised Billisha, but she quickly took up the tale, sad but eager to share. That was true for Aluali and Bihei too. I couldn’t leave them out.

The kids’ sheepishly asked about my Family too, and I told them what I could about a father who ran hot and cold, a manipulative mother, a kind grandfather (mostly), a demanding grandmother (also mostly), and an annoying younger brother. As for my wife and children, well… maybe I’d tell them eventually; when their world grew bigger.

The evening was a long and sad one, but we awoke the next day brighter for it.

###

Alas, the mood didn’t last. The next morning brought Borba to Bihei’s doorstep. She yelped on opening the door and quickly called me over.

He didn’t look much different at first glance. He--or someone--had taken pains to make sure he was dressed neatly and his hair combed. If he hunched a little, that could be explained by the intensity of recent training. Every hunter in the village was sore. His eyes though--they bulged just enough to give away that something was off--and he kept his arms folded and his hands hidden from view.

Borba the Murderer, human, dusk Talents: Hard-Working, Lean, Enduring, Rage

Nascent: Siphon, ???

Two of his teammates accompanied him. They were clearly his escorts but hung back to give him the semblance of private conversation. Borba didn’t say anything though. He stared through me.

“Did you need anything?” I asked.

“I--I thought I’d see--” Borba slurped, like his mouth was too full of saliva. “You have so many Talents, maybe I would understand mine. But I don’t see anything. Just, just someone who--” He began to breathe heavily, and a red flush crept up his neck to his face. “I should go,” he said and practically ran away.

I turned to find the kids and Bihei watching. “He doesn’t look well, does he?”

“The false ones look neat and clean,” Aluali said, “but they’re still monsters on the inside.”

“And whether Borba turns into a monster or not, that’s up to his path,” Billisha said.

“And what do you think?” I asked Bihei. She hadn’t said anything last night when we talked about Borba’s fate.

“If not for him,” she said quietly, “the last Darkest Days would not have been so dark. I might still have my Family if Grunthen was at the walls. I’m not one to begrudge a person their path, but if Borba’s leads him astray, I’ll not cry over it. My tears have all been shed and for those that mattered to me.”

There was no sympathy to be found among any of them, which given what they’d survived was to be expected. They were traumatized. The whole village was traumatized, and constantly being retraumatized. And nothing would change until they felt it was safe to do so. Trauma was a closed-off space, with the body and mind obsessed with protection above all else. There’d be no opening for anything new until both could be soothed.

Another use for the Grace spell? Maybe, but I wanted to think long and hard about that. The consequences felt heavy.

For now, I stuck around to help with the fields. I was anxious to get back to the blynxes, but wasn’t willing to leave the kids or Bihei as they were. There wasn’t anything I could say that I hadn’t already. All that was left was to keep them company.