Greg allowed himself to be escorted over to the hotel’s entrance without resistance. Thoko tagged along, eyeing his brothers curiously, just as they were obviously eying her, probably wondering why she knew about Greg’s condition.

His family had booked a suite large enough to accommodate all of them comfortably, two bedrooms and a sort of salon. As soon as the door closed behind them, Andrew, Nathan, and David were upon him, hugging, and yelling, and cursing, and explaining in every detail what an idiot he had been.

Eventually, their father interrupted them: “I think that’s enough, for the moment. You worked on the railway, Greg?”

Greg finally sank down into one of the big armchairs and let his head fall back.

“How do you know?” he asked, trying to gauge his father’s reaction. Bram wasn’t usually this distant. He hadn’t even taken a seat and stayed over at the other side of the room.

“Your first letter came from Eoforwic,” his father pointed out, “your second one from Sheaf. Then another one from Eoforwic. Also, you wrote that you had found work doing a kind of ‘cultivation’. Plus, we’ve been back in Eoforwic for nearly a month again now, and couldn’t find a trace of you. But a day after the line is finished and all the navvies flock into town, we run into you? Wasn’t exactly hard to figure out.”

“You’ve been looking for me for a whole month?”

“Don’t be silly,” Andrew scoffed. “We’ve been looking for you since the day you left. We came back here after your third letter made us realize that you hadn’t made for the highlands after all. Cause when you wrote to us from Sheaf, that was our first worry, that you were going to leave civilization behind completely.”

“What’s her role in all this?” David wanted to know, nodding towards Thoko.

“She’s a co-worker,” Greg sighed, “and a friend,” and began to explain how he had joined the railway crew in the hopes of doing just what Andrew had described and making for the wilderness of the mountains. How instead, he had ended up saving them from the Rot.

His father raised his bushy eyebrows in surprise when he talked about that, but no one said anything, until he was almost finished with his story and told them about the meeting Duke George Louis had demanded.

“You can’t do that,” David interrupted him at this point. “You can’t go and meet him again.”

Greg blinked in confusion. “Why not?”

“You can’t trust that man, Greg. No matter what he promised, he’s not going to come alone. He’ll have a small battalion of men with him, or a band of werewolf hunters at the very least.”

“I thought he’s supposed to be smart,” Greg pointed out.

“And absolutely ruthless,” David grumbled. “And as power-mad as any Valoise you could meet.”

“Yeah, well. But if he wants to be king, he needs me alive.”

There was a long, long silence while his family thought about that. Eventually, Bram said: “I wouldn’t count on him to be quite that smart. We’ve run into Lane deLande just recently, here in the city, and there’s a rumour that the duke owns her, too. And if he brings her along, it doesn’t matter whether or not he sees your point, she’ll just shoot you on sight.”

“I’ve still got to go,” Greg said. “I owe it to everyone else.”

“Then let us come as well,” Bram said.

“What if the Church finds out?” Greg asked. “That you saw a werewolf and let it live?”

His father laughed harshly. “You let me worry about that,” he said. And then he just walked out.

Greg flinched when the door slammed shut behind him and got up.

“I wouldn’t,” Andrew said. “Give him some time.”

Greg wasn’t even sure if he had really meant to go after his father, or rather just get out of here, and he remained swaying in place. Andrew seemed to misunderstand because he continued: “It wasn’t fun for any of us, to realize that you seriously thought we’d – we’d kill you. But I reckon it’s different, for a father. Brothers always want to kill each other a little bit. But to find out that your own son is so scared of you he won’t even tell you what’s going on… Well, that had to hurt.”

“Especially since you told ibn Sina of all people,” David grumbled.

“I didn’t tell ibn Sina anything,” Greg defended himself. “He was the one who figured it out. I had no idea what was going on until he told me that my leg was healing way too fast and that I had to consider the possibility I had been bitten.”

“How did that even happen?” Nathan asked, curious. “You got no scars or anything visible. And we checked, like, a dozen times, when we brought you back on that cart.”

Greg raised his right hand, showed them the back of it. “I didn’t really get bitten,” he explained. “You remember how the werewolf grabbed my overcoat, right in front of my face? And the fabric didn’t tear like it was supposed to?”

Nathan nodded slowly.

“When I started slashing at the fabric with my knife, I must have scratched up against its teeth.”

“Well, that’s bloody unlucky,” Andrew muttered. “Still, no reason to run away like that.”

“I don’t see why you’re all so surprised that he did,” Thoko said softly. “From what Greg told us, you must have killed hundreds of werewolves between the four of you.”

“Yeah, but he’s our brother,” Nathan said.

“And we don’t go after the sane ones, either,” David said. “Not if we know that they are sane, in any case. Not sure if Dad is going back on the job at all, either.”

“Dad stopped hunting?” Greg asked, a little shocked.

David nodded. “The contract the bishop made us take was the last one for him. We were only gone for a few days. When we came back…”

“You should have seen Mum,” Andrew went on. “She was just so – so lost with you gone. Ibn Sina didn’t show up to tell her that all her worst nightmares had come true until the first day of full moon, and afterwards, she cried for, like, a week.”

“Actually, we promised to write as soon as we find you,” David said.

“I’ll get to it,” Nathan chimed in, and began to rummage around for paper and ink.

“And you did nothing but look for me for the last six months?” Greg asked.

“Pretty much,” Andrew said. “When you didn’t come back that first night, I went into town to ask after you, found out you had taken the coach. So David and Nathan left again the same day they returned from the bishop, to see if they could catch up with you.”

“Since that first letter you sent, Andrew, Nathan, and I have been taking all the contracts around here we came across,” David took over again. “In case somebody put a bounty on you, but I don’t think Dad even touched his crossbow since we got the news. He’s been searching the travelling fairs, the soup kitchens, places like that. He must have visited every farm and village in a fifty miles radius of Eoforwic and Sheaf to ask whether you had passed through. By the time your second letter from Eoforwic came, he was making plans to go up into the mountains.”

“That’s suicide,” Greg huffed.

“I don’t think he still cared,” David said darkly.

“What did you do with all the werewolves you hunted down?” Thoko butted in.

David shrugged. “That depends on the werewolf,” he said. “We tracked them down, and then waited till we could talk to them. Not that they had much to say to us. We let them go, if we felt they wouldn’t be dangerous to the people here. Most of them were howling mad though, tried to bite us even in their human form, and all that. People out here don’t usually like dealing with the authorities, so if they put up a bounty in the first place, they generally have good reason to do so.”

“That’s why father came out to talk to them alone,” Andrew continued. “Not as a hunter, just as a concerned father looking for his son. To see if anybody had noticed a werewolf they didn’t report.”

“So – those werewolves you didn’t kill, could you find them again?” Thoko asked.

“Why ever would we want to do that?” David replied.

“Just curious,” Thoko said with a thoughtful expression.

“Right,” Andrew huffed. “Some of them we can probably find. But what would you want with them?”

“Offer them a job,” Thoko said.

“You want to offer them a job,” Andrew repeated.

“Well, Eyal would have to make the actual offer, I guess,” Thoko shrugged. “But if we could find one or two more sane werewolves, we could triple the size of the gang, get much more work done much quicker. Maybe even start another gang, I guess Gavrel would be ready to take on his own crew. We could get all of Loegrion connected by the railway, not just the heartlands, within a few years if we just had enough werewolves to protect the workers.”

Andrew and David exchanged a glance, then shrugged at the same moment.

“I think you’re getting ahead of yourself there,” David said. “Let’s wait how the meeting on half-moon goes before we plan to put any more people in danger.”

“Why do you dislike the duke so much?” Thoko asked, sounding frustrated. “You don’t even know him.”

“I do, actually,” David said. “And I knew some of the people he destroyed to gain power. Make no mistake: George Louis is just as likely to oppose the Valoise as he is to turn somebody over to the Inquisition.”

Thoko opened her mouth as if to say something, but hesitated. “You know the duke,” she finally said. “Like, personally? How?”

David smiled wryly. “Oh, Greg didn’t mention? Father’s a Baron. And George Louis is only a couple of years older than I. When we grew up, your dear duke was only a count. He may have convinced the Roi Solei to appoint him to the highest rank a noble can attain, but I can still remember what he looked like after I knocked him out of the saddle at the jousting.”

Thoko just stared at David for a long, long time. “You knocked George Louis out of the saddle at a tournament,” she finally managed, before she turned on Greg: “You really could have mentioned this!”

Greg frowned. “I must have been, like, five or something when he did that. I don’t really remember it.”

“Not that!” Thoko almost yelled. “The whole part where your family is noble, and stuff.”

“Why would I say anything about that?” Greg asked, a little confused. “There’s no way I’m setting myself up for more of Isaac’s jokes.”

“I’m not sure he would be joking like that if he knew you actually are a – a – what’s your title, then?”

Greg rolled his eyes. “I don’t have a title. Baron isn’t that high a noble rank.”

“Really,” Thoko said, clearly not believing a word of what he had said.

“He’s right,” David said, for some reason smiling faintly. “Count is the first rank of nobility in which the oldest son automatically gains a title too, Viscount. Though each of the four of us would be addressed in court as ‘the Honourable – whatever – Feleke’.”

“Still,” Thoko said, who clearly had difficulties wrapping her head around this.

“It’s not that big a deal,” Greg sighed. “Especially now. It makes no difference who you were before you were bitten. Werewolves don’t get titles. Unless you count ‘monster’.”

That made them all shut up, to Greg’s relief. Most days, he felt like he had accepted his new life, but he still didn’t like talking about what could have been. He might have sneered when his mother suggested that he should enter parliament, but now he would give a lot just to have the option.

Before any of them could find a new topic to talk about, his father returned, which just made the silence even more awkward, until Nathan jumped to his feet and asked brightly: “Who wants to go to the post office?” Waving an envelope, he added for their father: “I’ve written a note for Mum.”

“Sure,” Andrew agreed.

David nodded and looked at Thoko, who said: “I need to get going anyway.”

Ten seconds later, Greg was alone with his father. He stared after them, even though the door was already closed, just to avoid the piercing gaze of Bram’s dark eyes. His father still kept his distance.

“Look, Dad,” Greg started, “I’m sorry…”

But Bram stopped him with a raised hand. “I’m the one who needs to apologize here, Gregory,” his father sighed. “I should never have allowed you to take Andrew’s place, not on a job that dangerous. And I’m even more sorry that you felt you couldn’t tell me what had happened right away.”

“I had no idea what had happened.” Greg slumped back into his chair. “I never noticed it happening. The doctor was the one who figured it out because my leg was healing so fast.”

His father raised his eyebrows at that. “I have to admit,” he said, “in all my years have I never heard that someone didn’t even notice when a werewolf bit them.”

“I didn’t really get bitten,” Greg sighed. “Hell, I bet the werewolf never noticed anything either.”

He explained again how he had injured his knuckles at the werewolf’s teeth. When he was finished, his father kept shaking his head, clearly lost for words.

“Will you come home?” Bram asked finally, sounding almost desperately hopeful.

The question surprised Greg.

“I can’t, father,” he said. “I can’t come back to Deva. People around here may be more scared of the Rot than a werewolf, but if anyone in Deva figures out what happened, we’re all dead. That’s why I left, father, and didn’t say anything. Because – yeah, I was scared of how you all would react. But even if you wouldn’t come after me, then telling you would make you all complicit.”

“What about the country house?” his father asked.

Greg ran both hands through his hair. “I – I don’t want to – This isn’t just about the werewolf thing anymore. I – we started something here, father, and I want to – I need to see where it goes. What the duke will say, and how far we can push the line. I promised to protect these people. I can’t just walk away now.”

“Then, please,” Bram said, “let us help. Let us be there. Let us protect you.”

“I don’t – if you’re all there, father, and things go bad – where can I – we – go then?”

His father smiled faintly. “We’ll figure it out, together,” he said. “Just promise me that you won’t run away like that again.”

Greg nodded silently. He had to swallow hard before he managed to say: “I promise.”

At that point, Bram finally closed the distance he had kept the whole time and opened his arms, but still hesitated, as if to gauge Greg’s reaction, before finally hugging him like he never wanted to let go again.

Greg lowered his head onto his father’s shoulder and closed his eyes. He’d been taller than him for a couple of years now, but still, there was nothing that made him feel as safe and protected as his father’s unwavering presence. The tears that were streaming down Bram’s face freely now didn’t change that.

“I’m just so glad we found you,” his father said eventually, and let go of Greg, finally taking a seat. He ran a hand over his face. “Tell me more about these people you work with?” he asked when Greg sat down as well. “You said this girl, Thoko, was one of them? I didn’t realize there were women working as navvies.”

“Thoko is the only one, I think,” Greg said. “Her father was convicted in the big witchcraft trial last year. She says she joined the railway so she could bury him properly because the Duke promised land to everyone who dares to work in the forests.”

His father frowned. “That’s a long time to wait with a burial. What is she doing in the meantime?”

“I didn’t want to ask.”

“And the rest of them?”

Greg shrugged. “Eyal is our gangmaster and crew leader. He’s, like, almost seven feet tall. If he grabs your hand, you know the only reason your fingers remain unbroken is that he’s going gentle on you. But he doesn’t usually rely on force. I think you’d like him.”

Greg shrugged. “At the beginning, the core of the crew was made up of Eyal’s butty gang. Fifteen of his closest relatives and twelve strangers he took on board, including me. Then there were a bunch of convicts, a dozen mercenaries to keep those in line, and Smith, our engineer.”

“What convicts?” his father wanted to know.

“The duke was worried that the work would take too long if it was only Eyal’s butty gang, cause all in all he only managed to get twenty-eight people together who were willing to take on the Rot. So he offered a bunch of convicts a choice between the rope and the forest. They all ran away after they found out I’m a werewolf, and most of the mercenaries went with them. Pate, Randal and Dicun stayed, and hired up as navvies in Sheaf.”

“Twenty-eight,” his father said. “That’s actually pretty impressive.”

“We totalled thirty-two, when we walked into Sheaf if you include Smith, our engineer. He was hired by the company.”

“Still, the duke must offer enormous sums.”

“Not really,” Greg shrugged. “The money isn’t bad, but it’s the land they’re really after. A farm for each of them, north of Mannin.”

“That isn’t even very good farming country. And they would need to purge it somehow.”

“It’s land where the Church never goes,” Greg pointed out. “I think that’s the main reason.”

His father frowned. “All of them? I mean, Thoko I understand, but what about the others?”

“Eyal and his family are Wayfarers. They don’t even pay lip service to Mithras. I don’t really know everyone else’s reason, but a few of them I can guess. Like, Dicun and Randal I reckon are a couple.”

“I see,” his father said softly. “The duke is collecting those who the Church has turned into outcasts.”

“Do you think he will keep his word?”

“Hard to say,” his father said. “We’ll know a little more after half-moon, but Duke George Louis is hard to predict.”

Greg nodded and rubbed his temples. The headache was mostly gone, but he was still tired.

“Are you all right?” his father asked.

“Tired,” Greg said. “There was a big celebration last night. And I haven’t eaten anything yet today.”

“We saw some of those celebrations,” his father said and smiled faintly. “Just tired, huh?”

Greg shrugged. “I had a headache when I woke up, but that’s almost gone now.”

“Let’s order some food then,” his father said. “You brothers should be back soon.”

By the time Nathan, Andrew, and David returned, Greg was soaking in hot water. Nathan threw some of his own clothes over the back of a chair for him, so Greg wouldn’t have to walk around in his worn-out work gear.

He couldn’t help but wonder what Isaac would say if he could see him now, wearing linen shirts and trousers made from fine wool, a vest made from silk. Greg shuddered a little when he saw the amount of clothes his brothers had brought to Eoforwic. They all usually travelled light, but apparently, they had prepared to stay in the city for months.

When Greg left the bathroom, David had parted his crossbow from his knapsack, a deep frown on his face.

“Let me guess,” David said, “you brought this, but no tools to take care of it?”

“Yes,” Greg said.

David clicked his tongue disapprovingly and promptly began to clean the weapon. Just a few months ago, Greg would have been pissed off by that unspoken criticism of his abilities, but now it just made him smile.

When night fell, they ended up celebrating at the hotel bar, which was much more extensively stocked than the pubs he had visited with the crew in recent months, and Greg had some fun trying different drinks.

“You’ll regret that tomorrow,” Andrew warned him “Mixing drinks like that.”

“A few hours, maybe,” Greg shrugged. “And only cause tonight there’s no moon. When the moon is nearly full, just getting drunk can take some effort.”

“Have you ever tried eating or drinking something that would be poisonous?” Nathan wanted to know.

“Only your cooking, and that was before,” Greg gave back, which earned him a punch into the shoulder and finally put a smile even on David’s face. “I’d probably still be miserable for hours,” he added. “And really, what’s the point?”

“They say a werewolf can heal any injury not caused by silver or fire by simply changing shape,” Nathan said, lowering his voice. “Have you ever tried that?”

“Doesn’t work,” Greg said. “Or rather, it doesn’t work with injuries caused by the Rot.”

“Huh,” muttered Andrew. “But about that hangover – aren’t you supposed to be, like, normal tonight?”

“Easier to kill, yes,” Greg said. “Normal, not exactly.” He shrugged. “You know how they say that you can cut a werewolf’s throat with steel, and any night but new moon, he’ll survive? Well, I bet people only ever tried that with sleeping werewolves in their human form. And as soon as they started cutting, the werewolf would transform, possibly healing the cut, but most certainly making it impossible to follow through. Except for new moon, of course.”

“But you still heal faster,” Nathan concluded.

“A little faster, yeah. Nothing like around full moon.”

Nathan and Andrew had dozens of questions, while David just listened intently. He kept watching their surroundings like a hawk, and sometimes he would place a hand on Nathan’s, Andrew’s, or Greg’s arm, to stop them from saying something, when he felt a stranger was passing too closely. That, too, was endlessly familiar, and Greg slowly felt himself relax. He hadn’t even realized just how much he had missed this, Nathan and Andrew mock arguing, and David watching, always watching all of their backs. Their father would normally join in the banter, but tonight he just sat there, smiling silently.

“What do we do next?” David asked Bram, as soon as they had poured the others into their beds, all three of them grinning even in their sleep. “About the duke?”

His father, too, had a contented smile on his face as he looked over his younger sons, finally all together again. David hated to worry him, but they needed to talk about the situation. He knew George Louis, intimately, and he hated the thought of Greg meeting him alone.

“Greg agreed to let us be there when you left to post the letter,” Bram said quietly. “I suggest we scout out the meeting place tomorrow, so there won’t be any unwelcome surprises.”

“Should we talk to his crew, too?”

“They’re Wayfarers,” his father said. “They have as much reason to stay away from the Mithrans as Greg. Also, they have kept the secret for quite a while now. And Greg calls them his friends, so we need to step carefully there. He’s loyal to them. From what it sounds like, they are loyal to him, too.”

David nodded silently.

“What do you think the duke will do?” Bram asked. “You know him best.”

Even better than his father knew.

“Hard to say,” David sighed. “He won’t show up to that meeting alone, that’s for sure. And I don’t think he ever came face to face with a werewolf before, so I wouldn’t be too sure that he knows what he will do once he does. I guess if he doesn’t panic, he’ll demand some sort of proof of Greg’s ability to fight the Rot. And of his sanity, of course. If Greg passes those tests, whatever form they may take... well, then Greg is right, isn’t he? Werewolves could be the answer to a lot of problems Loegrion faces. George Louis will no doubt try to take advantage of that.”

His father nodded slowly and rubbed his beard. “I don’t know about you,” he said after a moment, “but I feel like there is another shoe about to drop.”

“Yeah,” David agreed. “He’s too – too normal, isn’t he?”

“He’s completely the same!” Bram whispered. “Like – I don’t know. Like he didn’t get bitten at all!”

“He didn’t, strictly speaking,” David said. “Did he tell you about that?”

“Yes, and he showed me his knuckles, but that’s not the point. Werewolf teeth injured him, it doesn’t matter how small the injury was. People don’t get half cursed.”

“Maybe it’s because of new moon.”

“That’s what I think,” his father agreed. “That we’ll see more changes in him as the moon waxes.”

“I’ll take it,” David said. “I’m sure Mum will be relieved, too.”

“Of course she will be. Though she won’t be happy about the hold-up.”

“We can’t force him to come with us, though.”

“No,” his father agreed. “And if necessary, Imani can come to Eoforwic. See for herself that he’s all right.”

David took a deep breath. “It’s certain though, right? That he will stay sane?”

His father nodded slowly. “He was bitten in Février, it’s Septembre now. That’s eight full moons. Have you ever heard of a werewolf changing that late?”

They both had not, of course. Four full moons, yes, rarely. But never later than that.

“He’ll be fine,” his father sighed, smiling again.

“He will be,” David agreed. But after all the worry of the past months, it was hard to convince himself.

It was another late morning when Greg woke up. His brothers had insisted that he took one of the beds, and David had ended up sleeping in one of the chairs. They were all up already, Greg could hear Andrew laughing and Nathan complain about something.

“Sleeping beauty is awake,” David informed them when Greg sat up. “There’s breakfast left over, if you want.”

“Sure,” Greg yawned and came shuffling over. “Where’s Dad?”

“Sending another letter to Mum,” Andrew said.

“He didn’t feel mine was adequate,” Nathan chimed in.

Andrew rolled his eyes. “Dear Mum,

“we found him! He looks alright,

“cheers, Nathan?”

“What?” Nathan asked. “Should I have written how the werewolf-thing doesn’t affect him at all, maybe mark the whole thing somehow for the Inquisition?”

“You still could have provided a little more details,” Andrew pointed out.

“You could have written it yourself.”

“You volunteered!”

David rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything until Greg had finished breakfast.

“Do you have plans for today, Greg?” he eventually asked.

“Not really. Why?”

“Dad wants to check out that watering station you mentioned. And I figure we should check exactly when the new trains will be running past there, just in case.”

“Sure,” Greg said.

“Take Dolly,” Andrew offered. “I’ll stay here, hold the fort down.”

“Thanks,” Greg said. “Though I’m not sure Dolly’ll be fine with that. Animals somehow always seem to know.”

“We’ll see,” Andrew said.

By the time their father had returned, they were ready to go. Andrew was coming down to the stables with them, to help soothe Dolly, if necessary.

When Greg stepped through the stable doors, it wasn’t Dolly who panicked. It was all the horses at once. There were at least a couple of dozen animals inside the hotel stables, and each and every single one of them rose, screaming rather than neighing, and did their best to kick their way out of their boxes.

“I think I’ll wait outside,” Greg yelled over the noise.

He walked outside and braced himself for Dolly’s reaction. But when Andrew led the mare over to him, she just pranced a little. When Greg hesitantly reached out to pat her nose, she snorted but didn’t shy away.

“This should work,” Andrew decided, and let Greg hold her while he found the completely flabbergasted stable hands, to get Dolly’s saddle.

Soon, they were passing the gate out of Eoforwic, past empty fields. The harvest was over, and winter was approaching fast. Greg rubbed his hands together. It was certainly getting cold.

The watering station was fully fortified by now, ready to defend itself against the Rot, which would not be deterred by the weak sun of the short winter days, even if it did shine. When they reached the station, a train was just coming out of the forest. It stopped, and a pipe was lowered from inside the walls to pour water into an opening on the locomotive. Nobody had to set a foot outside for the transaction.

David watched silently. Once the train had sped away towards Eoforwic, he prompted his gelding to move along the tracks into the shadows beneath the trees. Their father crossed the tracks, and then also followed them into the forest. They didn’t need a single word, not even a nod or glance to communicate. Greg had no idea what they were looking for, but he followed David anyway.

Nathan moved over and followed Bram, who soon started moving away from the tracks, searching the underbrush. When David did the same, Greg gave up.

“What are you even looking for?” he asked.

“Hiding places,” David explained.

“For a werewolf?”

“No, Greg, for a hunter, or a bunch of soldiers. An ambush. Some way for George Louis to make a mess of this.”

“You really can’t stand him, huh?” Greg asked.

“Oh, he’s a nice enough guy,” David shrugged. “But I’ve seen him murder too many people, just because they were in his way, or he thought that they were in his way, and I’ll be damned if I let you become one of them.”

“What about you?” Greg asked.

“What about me?”

“Well, aren’t you a more likely person for him to target if he hears you talk like this?”

David laughed about that. “He knows, Greg. But don’t worry about me.”

“You’re making that rather difficult.”

David was quiet for a while but finally said: “He killed two of my best friends, Greg. People I thought were his friends, too. Back then, all I could do was watch. I’m not doing that again.

Someone else has been here,” he added before Greg could think of an answer. “Over there.”

When Greg paused to look, the hoof prints were hard to miss.

“Werewolf hunter, I reckon,” David added. “Must have been here yesterday, right after the rain. See how deep those tracks are? Ground must have been very soft, but no rainwater collected inside them.”

They followed the tracks, and David continued his lecture. Greg was pretty sure that his brother didn’t even notice that he did. Eventually, the trail led them back to their father and Nathan, who had followed it on the other side of the railway line.

“Only one set of tracks,” Nathan said. “Must have been deLande, right?”

“Most likely, yes,” Bram agreed. He nodded to himself. “If it’s only her, we shouldn’t have any issues. If there are soldiers present as well, we might have to improvise.”

Greg didn’t worry about a bunch of soldiers. He could deal with those. But the thought of Lane deLande scared him nearly senseless. That woman was a legend. And she was completely obsessed with killing werewolves.

But if it was her, alone, against his brothers and father, it wouldn’t matter how good she was. There was no way she would get past the four of them to hurt him.

It was already fairly late in the afternoon by the time they returned to the hotel. Stable hands took the horses off them, as soon as they had dismounted, and when they entered the lobby, one of the receptionists approached them. “There is a messenger for the Honourable Greg Feleke? Also a young lady? They have been waiting all afternoon.“

Greg looked around and spotted Isaac and Thoko, who had already started in their direction.

“Thank you,” Greg said, and the receptionist retreated back behind his desk. “This is Isaac,” Greg explained for his family when his friends hesitated a couple of meters away. “Let’s talk someplace more private?”

Isaac just stared at them for a long while, and finally shook his head. “Eyal sent me,” he said. “Thoko told us what happened, and we just wanted to know if you’ll still be there on half-moon.”

“Of course I’m going to be there,” Greg huffed. “We just went and had a look around the place where the duke wants to meet us.”

That obviously surprised Isaac, and he looked back and forth between them again. “Look, are you here tomorrow? Or the day after?” he asked after a moment. “I can’t stay, or I’ll be late for the new year’s celebration.”

“Sure,” Greg said. “I’ll be here.”

“But you’re going to stay for dinner, Thoko, right?”, Nathan asked before anyone else could say more.

Thoko looked a little flustered but nodded. “Uh, sure. I mean, thank you.”

When they were all seated in the hotel’s restaurant, Thoko was very quiet, until she finally asked: “Why was this so much less awkward before I knew you’re a noble?”

“I have no idea why you think it’s awkward to have dinner with a noble, but are perfectly fine having dinner with a werewolf,” Greg gave back.

Thoko wasn’t the only one who was looking strangely at him though. His father wouldn’t take his eyes off of him either.

“You haven’t changed at all,” he said when Greg eventually met them with a questioning look of his own. “I’ve never seen that happen before.”

Greg frowned, but it was Thoko who asked: “So you’ve met people like Greg before?”

“Not like Greg,” Bram said. “But many of the wolves out there used to be hunters, Thoko. And while we all claim that we would rather die than become what we’re hunting – well, once someone is faced with the reality of it, very few do end their own life. It’s not that unusual to meet people again, after, and it’s usually not hard to spot.”

“How so?” Greg wanted to know.

His father shrugged. “Well, you know of course that most werewolves change physically. Their eyes, mostly, and the hair. And even those that don’t... Some won’t come inside at all. Some will, but can’t stop looking for the nearest exit. A lot of the ones I have met seemed to have some issues with speech, too. Many will jump at sounds a human hardly even notices. Hell, I’ve met a guy who couldn’t stop himself from chasing squirrels. But mostly it’s in the interaction with other people where you notice. They become paranoid, mistrustful. Like a dog who has been beaten.”

“Well, of course they do,” Thoko pointed out. “I’d be pretty paranoid if I was a werewolf talking to someone I know to be a hunter.”

“Certainly, but it’s more than that,” Bram said calmly. “They’d be smarter to act normal around me, wouldn’t they? But they don’t. I don’t think they can.”

“Porter seemed pretty normal to me,” Greg said thoughtfully. “I mean, he was staring daggers at me, too, but I do think he could have stopped himself. He just thought I was too drunk to notice.”

“Hm…” his father muttered. “Of course, if someone doesn’t change, I wouldn’t know what happened to them. So maybe Greg is the norm, after all. I don’t think so, though.”

“I could still change,” Greg pointed out.

“After all this time? Unlikely. I once met a woman who swore blind that her son was completely fine until after his fourth full moon, when he suddenly turned violent. And sure, every hunter has some tale to tell about a child, or a pretty girl, or this really, really old bloke who they initially let go, cause they seem so harmless, and a couple of months later they come back and a whole village has been slaughtered on half-moon. But I’ve never heard a reliable story about something like that happening past the fourth month.”

“So what you’re saying,” Thoko said, “is that Greg could have still turned on us, even after he’d protected us for over a month?”

“It happens,” Bram confirmed. “Not terribly often, but still.”

“The results are pretty terrible, when it does happen,” Andrew said darkly.

“So if the duke keeps his word and doesn’t have Greg shot,” Thoko said thoughtfully, “and we do try to hire more werewolves, we better make sure that they have been sane for four months.”

“I’d wait for their fifth full moon, just to be on the safe side,” David said. “If you can verify that at all.”

“Could you put a werewolf in a cage?” Greg asked. “Just for full moon, I mean. A big box that can be transported on a cart, for example.”

His father thought about that for a long time. “I’ve heard there are still some travelling fairs,” he said finally, “who have werewolves on display, even though it’s technically illegal. I’ve no idea what they do around full moon, but I reckon a sturdy enough cage should do it. The Morgulon travelled for years with the circus. Mind you, she was barely as big as a sheepdog when I first saw her. Still, I reckon there has to be a way. Maybe line the walls with silver, just to be on the safe side.”

“Ouch,” Greg muttered.

His father opened his mouth and closed it again. “Right,” he said. “Sorry.”

After dinner, they had the maid bring them drinks up to their rooms, where Thoko continued to pick their brains about werewolves and everything that might help keep the crew safe in the forest. Greg almost expected her to take notes.