Jacob was sure his company was ready. After the fae had misdirected them, everyone better understood the risks of the battle they were engaged in and approached the drills and exercises with a new determination. Harry’s own company was also bucking up their ideas, as were the others under Grey, thanks to the gossip and chatter among the men. Tales got taller and escapes got narrower in the retelling until a minor if frightening encounter with the fae became a brush with certain death.

Harry & Jacob did nothing to quash the rumours - the more the men feared the enemy the better, in their minds - but neither did they believe that what they had faced so far would be the worst their foes had to throw at them. They knew, and impressed upon their charges, that complacency got you killed. The only way to face the adversary was to respect and fear it.

The drills continued, becoming more and more challenging as Jacob & Harry threw added complications into the mix. Randomly stunning up to half the soldiers was a particular favourite; nothing concentrated a man’s mind more than turning to his neighbours for aid in the heat of battle and finding them lying unconscious beside him.

“Learn to do more with less,” Harry explained, “we don’t know what might happen for certain but trusting in numbers won’t keep you safe.” And if they keep spreading us even thinner, Jacob thought, we will be back to the teams of two or three before long, anyway.

With increased training and improved attitudes came another benefit - on patrols the leaders would often take a back seat now, allowing the men themselves to lead the troop. More often than not Harry or Jacob had nothing to do but nominate a ‘patrol lead’ and outline the route, before following their men around and watching for any errors. Grey wasn’t best pleased when he got wind of this, but Harry convinced him of the value of allowing the soldiers a certain amount of autonomy and decision making responsibility. Should anything happen to them, it was vital somebody be ready to step up.

So it was nothing unusual for Jacob to be bringing up the rear of his eight-man patrol as they followed a slight ridge-line within sight of Stonehenge. The leader today was Magenta, and he’d decided on a simple formation. Up front Vermillion was the scryer and held the company’s hagstone along with responsibility for spotting any enemy movements (Jacob had his own hagstone too and double-checked if needed). Magenta followed along behind him, with Beige, Lavender and Aqua in line behind him. Turquoise and Violet flanked the company, staffs at the ready in case of attack from either side. At first they were close in, hugging the ridge-line, but once the group returned to the plains, they fanned out about twenty yards either side.

The sun beat down on them all, and Jacob wondered when Magenta would call a break to drink. He was reluctant to interfere - the more you held their hands, the more they relied on you, he knew - but Lavender was already stumbling and even from behind Jacob had watched his skin getting redder with each mile covered.

“Hold here, lads,” came Magenta’s cry a few moments later. “Drink some water, eat something, and smoke if you like.” This last instruction came with a careful glance at Jacob, who gave a small nod. Some didn’t believe in allowing the men to smoke on patrol, for fear of giving away their position, but Jacob felt it more important that the men not be irritable and jumpy. Besides, night patrols carried lanterns making them much more obvious, and if the fae couldn’t smell the men a mile off, then he frankly envied them.

Once everyone had drunk a few gulps of stale water from their canteens, Magenta called them back into formation and they set off again. So far so good, Jacob thought to himself. Vermillion was keeping a good eye out and the break had restored Lavender somewhat. Jacob noticed Magenta drop back to check on him.

As the ridge descended back to the plain, Turquoise & Violet spread out to their flanking positions. Magenta was just moving up the formation again to speak with Vermillion at the head when a short anguished cry went up from the left of the company. Their heads spun at once to see Turquoise falling to the ground behind a small clump of foliage. Everyone started over in that direction but Jacob called out “Hold your ground! Watch for the enemy!” and they stopped, taking up defensive postures. “Magenta, with me!” Jacob called and the two of them ran to check what had happened.

Jacob signalled to Magenta to go around the other side of the bush and raised the hagstone to his eye. Magenta lowered his staff to ready an attack, and they crept around the low shrub. Turquoise was there, lain on the ground, clutching at his ankle. Jacob couldn’t see anything else nearby. He checked under the bush itself and spun on the spot checking all directions.

“What was it?” Magenta hissed. “What got you?”

“Fucking rabbit!” Turquoise answered. “Fucking holes everywhere!”

Magenta raised his staff back up and leant on it, guffawing. Jacob did his best not to do likewise. With one final check for supernatural influences, he and the still chuckling Magenta helped Turquoise to his feet.

“Can you walk?” Jacob asked.

Before Turquoise could answer, another scream carried across the plain.

Jacob spun, almost dropping Turquoise in his haste to catch what had happened. Of the remaining five men, two were already down. Before he could look through the hagstone, Violet disappeared behind a fountain of blood.

Through the stone, he saw… nothing. He scanned the line of men, searching for any sign of what had done so much damage so fast, but there was nothing visible. Vermillion was also scouring the area around them for some clue what had happened.

Without the support of Jacob and Magenta, Turquoise had dropped to his knees but raised his staff in readiness. Magenta himself was about ten yards to Jacob’s left now, also ready for action. Beige was tending to a shrieking Lavender attempting to stanch the blood gushing from his stomach. Aqua was face down in a large blood-stained area of grass a few yards behind the others and Jacob could see no sign of him breathing.

“Must have come from behind,” Vermillion croaked, following Jacob’s gaze, “got him silently. Then we heard Lavender. I checked, I swear, there was nothing there!”

“Focus, man,” Jacob scolded him. “Beige, we need you.”

Beige protested, unwilling to leave his colleague, but Vermillion strode over and hauled him to his feet. “You can’t help him if you’re dead,” he snapped, and thrust his staff into his hands. “Stand to!”

But to fight what? Jacob wondered. Anything fae should have been visible through the hagstones.

“Powders,” called Magenta and Jacob could have kicked himself for forgetting. He grabbed the glass vials from his backpack, tossing them in a small circle to the rear of the company. The dust hovered for a moment above each broken bottle before dissipating, revealing nothing.

Magenta did the same with his own, showing nothing on their left flank, and Vermillion found nothing ahead. All eyes were therefore on Beige when he tossed a bottle towards Violet’s body; as the smoke curled above him not one man breathed. For an instant it hung there, as if marking the scene of the attack, before darting into the ground and vanishing.

“It’s underground!” Jacob called, in unison with Magenta.

“Check for holes,” Turquoise called, “if there’s one at your feet, move!” Each man checked beneath his feet and a couple took paces to the side. “With any luck that powder found it, and we’ll see it come out.”

After an eternity, with each of them turning about to keep an eye on every rabbit-hole or badger sett within view, Beige stabbed a finger off to one side. “There!” he called. Sure enough, something resembling a snout was visible an inch or two above the grass sniffing the air. Jacob ordered all but Magenta to watch for other creatures.

The two men took up position ninety degrees apart, about three feet from the hole and Jacob whispered an incantation, his unwavering staff pointed at the hole and its occupant. Soil began to rise, clods of earth tearing themselves free and hurtling upwards to land a few yards away. The creature dashed back into the hole but Magenta was ready and cast a spell to hold it in place. It fought and struggled, but could not retreat.

“It’s strong!” Magenta grunted, his face wrinkled with the effort of holding it in place. Jacob redoubled his efforts to excavate as fast as possible. Before Magenta could lose his mental grip on the beast, a decent-sized hole had formed, and the men got their first sight of their attacker.

The creature was about two feet long, with jet-black fur stained white in patches. No eyes were visible, but its long hairless snout bristled with whisker-like long hairs which must help it navigate underground. A small mouth hung open in a soundless screech, and tiny knife-sharp teeth showed along both jaws. Its primary weapon though were its front legs - too long for its body and tipped with three long and now blood-stained claws. Long rear legs curled under it like a rabbit, and Jacob realised that it could leap to attack. “Keep hold,” he urged Magenta.

“Easier said than done,” Magenta replied, the strain clear in his voice. “Just kill the damn thing already!”

Jacob decided against a magical attack - there was no telling what a blast might do to Magenta’s holding spell, and if the creature were that strong and survived the first attack it didn’t bear considering. He pulled his knife from its sheath on his belt and sidled towards the beast. It sensed his approach, and tried to retreat again, squirming in place against Magenta’s spell.

“No you don’t,” Jacob muttered, and with a swift movement sank the iron blade of his knife into the creature’s back, aiming where its heart would be if it were a mortal animal. Even if he missed, the iron and silver inlaid into the blade could paralyse the beast, if not kill it outright. He sighed in relief as it slumped to the bottom of the pit. He left the knife in place as a precaution, fell back on his heels, and wiped his hand across his brow.

“Check on the injured,” he said, and fought back the tears.

“Two dead,” Grey sighed. “Two men killed, one more might not make it through the night and you didn’t even see it happen.”

“I brought that thing in,” Jacob protested. “No-one has seen anything like it before, we had no reason to believe the fae worked underground.”

“Still,” Grey continued, “you were in command. But then you were off elsewhere tending to a twisted ankle, am I correct?”

“That’s not the point,” Jacob said. “It took Aqua down silently, it must have attacked the rear-most man to pick us off one by one.” And if Turquoise hadn’t stumbled into a rabbit-hole, that’d have been me, he realised. “If Lavender hadn’t screamed, we might have come off even worse.”

“Was it true you’d put Magenta in charge of this patrol?” Black snapped.

Jacob struggled to keep his voice level. “I feel it best to ensure that every one of my men learns to take responsibility.”

“Oh, so you blame him?” Black sneered. “Very convenient.”

“No, sir,” Jacob replied. “The patrol was mine. But I would like the record to show that Magenta reacted admirably, keeping his head when ambushed, and executed his duties with excellence.”

“In that case maybe he should have your job,” Black said. “As you’re restricted to barracks until further notice.”