Pyrik woke up panting with her undershirt heavily damp, grateful that the morning herald was shining on her face and that she was not in that nightmarish dreamscape anymore. She took the moment to gather herself, to feel the warmth spreading out on her skin, before she made her way out of bed. After strapping on her brigandine vest and taking her weapons, Pyrik trudged downstairs to find the house vacant. The armour, weapons and slumbering bodies that entangled the floor earlier in the night was gone. The only hint that anyone had stayed here were the chairs that Menov and Potash sat on, one dragged far away from the table while the one remained close to the table though at a crooked angle. A shiver crawled up Pyrik like a million roaches upon reminded of Menov’s amiable grin and dissecting glare. The fear was a strange one. Menov was no beast with obvious fangs or claws, yet every word she spoke had a hidden edge and her eyes were as piercing as a shot through the gut. The fear was simultaneously rational and irrational though one thing was certain:

That woman knows more than she is letting on.

Stepping out of the house, the settlement was a hive of activity. Hospitallers were out doing repairs on the perimeter of stakes that were destroyed from last night, bodies on the wagon were hauled out to be burned in the rotten wheat field, and gathered at the butcher shop were Haldane and his men, preparing to venture out to investigate the red forest. Whetstones sang on swords and bayonets. Rifles and pistols were checked. A pot was simmering over a fire and others were ladling a sort of porridge into their bowls. Potash looked less than pleased with his porridge though he ate anyway. Menov licked her spoon clean having finished her bowl and waved at Pyrik. Pyrik froze, unsure of what to do, until she came to her senses and managed a passable smile before steering away, nearly running into Haldane with a bowl full of porridge.

“Whoa. Careful. It’s piping hot,” Haldane said, stepping back in time to save himself a scolding. “Here. Eat up.”

Pyrik took the bowl, its heat sobering against the morning fog in her head. “Thank you. So what’s the plan?” She spooned some porridge into her mouth, tasted alright.

“Simple. If there are indeed crows in the red forest, and assuming that they can navigate it without becoming disoriented, then there has to be something the crows are doing that’s lending them an immunity,” Haldane explained. “So the plan is to capture and release crows into forest, and observe from there.”

Just then, a crow squawked from on top of a roof. Its small, black beady eyes stared at Pyrik with a hint of recognition, then flew away.

“Sound plan,” Pyrik handed him the empty bowl.

“Except?”

“The plan’s contingent on time that’s running scarce.”

“Do you have a sounder idea?”

“...No.” Or at least none that Pyrik wanted to speak openly with Menov within earshot. News would have likely spread about her immunity to the red forest’s effects, and she did not want them to know that it also spoke to her, particularly Menov.

“Then it’s settled. We leave for the forest in half an hour. Do whatever you need before then.”

Her pack and coat still remained in the Common House, Pyrik would go there. She tried to give a wide berth to Menov, however, the woman had disappeared from her previous spot and reappeared next to Pyrik, a friendly arm around her shoulders.

Menov’s close proximity felt anything but friendly to Pyrik, though.

“Sleep well?” Menov asked.

“Yes,” Pyrik said, trying to sound nonchalant. “Did you?”

Menov shook her head dramatically. “No I did not, actually. Not one wink.”

Pyrik looked around. None of the Hospitallers paid the girls any mind because to them, they were just having a casual talk. Pyeik would have thought so too, except for the iron-stiff arm slung too close to her neck. Menov would not let her leave until she was indulged in conversation. “Why is that, you think?”

Menow played up a long, exasperated sigh like an actor projecting their voice for the folks at the back row in the theatre to hear, but then she quietly said, “Something’s keeping me up, you see. Tossing and turning and the like. You’re a Jaeger, right? Perhaps you can help.”

“Is it a beast?”

“Something of the like. There’s a monster among us,” Menov said. She was staring at something, and when Pyrik followed its trajectory she found that Menov was looking at Haldane. No, honing on him with an iron sight concentration. Yet her expression was soft and her grin was distractingly aloof. It hid her intentions too well. “It’s roaming around this settlement, eating mothers and fathers and orphaning children. Curious, ‘cause this monster doesn’t have any noticeable fangs or claws. I can hardly trust my own eyes, and it keeps me up at night. Would you please kindly look into this for me?”

"I don't know..."

"Think about it." Menov let her arm drop. “That’s all I ask.”

***

Her pack was where Pyrik had felt it in the basement, her long coat took longer to find. The children in the Common House were playing hide and seek, and the few who lost were sitting in the center. None of the adults appeared to mind the children playing. They were either too tired or too preoccupied with keeping watch and lending a hand for the repairs to care. The rest of the children hid themselves well despite the relatively small place, which impressed her equally as much as it annoyed her. That was good. In the event that the Common House was compromised, at least the children would survive.

A boy, the same boy who helped take the little girl down to the basement during the night attack, was playing as the seeker in the game. He was ferret-slender with tufts of brown hair, and moved more with practice rather than with play.

Pyrik approached the boy as he went to the wall at the far end. It had no apparent hiding place, though she came to find her long coat and not the children. “I’m looking for my long coat.”

The boy scrunched his face, trying to place her, then he nodded with recognition. “As yes, I remember. You’re the one who gave Ellie that coat. Come along. I have to make my rounds.” He waved for her to follow.

There were, in fact, places within the wall to hide in. The boy showed as much when he kicked the bottom part of the wall and they heard a yelp in response.

“Hey! You’re supposed to stay quiet no matter what happens, remember? Now go and sit in timeout!” he said.

“Sorry, Oddie,” a tiny voice replied and a little boy emerged from the wall to join the other children at the center.

Oddie did the same all along the wall, and in some parts of the floor. Some made noise and emerged as losers, most stayed silent in their hiddie cubbies. More or less satisfied, they moved upstairs. It creaked and groaned as they plodded up the steps. .

“Our parents made us practice every week,” Oddie offered. “I always thought it was a little pointless considering how quiet it was around here until… well, I thought wrong.”

“That’s very smart of them, to keep you prepared.”

“I suppose.”

Pyrik wanted the conversation to fade as Oddie continued to make his rounds, however, she had not forgotten Menov’s request:

Would you please kindly look into this for me?

The thought—that request—gnawed at her more than she imagined. Perhaps the gnawing feeling was a healthy fear of folks like Menov, who wield their words like a double-edged sword that only cuts with double meanings. They sought to muddle truth and lie into an inseparable doubt. Even worse was the thick as iron mask with which she used to hide her intentions. Clearly Menov wanted something from Pyrik, however, the request plainly stated sounded less than honest. Or at least the entire truth, partially shrouded in a lie. And yet that gnawing feeling…

“Can I ask you something, Oddie?”

Oddie banged a fist against a cabinet under a bookshelf—no response. “Yes?”

“It’s about, uh… Ellie’s mother.”

At the invocation of the little girl’s mother, the boy glanced around, then took Pyrik to a faraway window that overlooked the east perimeter. She knew because the gap in the perimeter was still there, getting slowly replanted with fresh stakes. “What d’you want to know, Jaeger?”

“How did her mother die exactly?”

“That one Hospitaller, Haldane, said that Miss Carmine had caught the sickness,” Oddie shook his head. “The sickness, when somebody gets it, takes them in a matter of minutes. I remember when it happened to Mister Deshawn, when an insectoid beast bit his arm. In minutes he was already bleeding from his eyes, then his nose, then his mouth, until these spikes started growing out of him... and those insect mouthparts. Minutes! Everyone else who was bitten was the same too. But that Hospitaller kept saying that there was this latent phase or whatever he called it, kept insisting on it too. Then he started taking our folks away, saying that they’re sick, latent, and that they had to be quarantined for the sake of ours and theirs… He said that they all succumbed to the sickness, said there was no other choice and that we couldn’t see their bodies without risk of catching it.” He balled his hands into fists, gripping so tightly his knuckles were ivory white. “I know those Hospitallers are here to help, that captain certainly tries. But don’t trust every word that they say, Jaeger.”

Carefully, Pyrik nodded, neither confirming nor denying, simply acknowledging what Oddie had to say. The accusation levied at the Hospitallers carried a weight too dangerous to shift around recklessly.

Oddie carried out the rest of his rounds and they eventually found Ellie hiding under a section of floorboard in a corner. The little girl waved at them, still wearing Pyrik’s long coat. Ellie returned the coat as per their agreement, then to play as though this was nothing but a fun game.

***

The crows hopped and pecked and cawed in their cages. Sometimes they flapped their black wings to stir tornadoes to sweep their captors to the skies, yet all that did was loosen a few feathers from their flapping wings. All but one crow stood idly in its cage, cutting a swath through the Hospitallers with its black beady eyes to focus on Pyrik. The intelligence was startling for a borderline carrion bird. Pyrik felt the sudden urge to blast it away to bits and feathers, yet Haldane closely guarded his birds. It took an arduous hour to tie all the purple ribbons on crows’ twig-thin ankles, and Haldane looked sooner to fall on a sword than to redo the ribbons once more. The crows would be sent out into the red forest, where the Hospitallers would observe their movements from the borders while Pyrik observed from within.

Though as the cages were flung open and the crows escaped from their confines, Pyrik was drawn more to Haldane than their flight.

Could it be just a contagion of suspicion? The seeds of doubt from Menov coming to bear fruit? Perhaps, perhaps all true. Yet that gnawing feeling was instinct calling for caution to be heeded, and it never hurt to know for certain.