Much to everyone's confusion, the invasion of Blackridge proved short and strangely anti-climactic.

The invading rogues had scattered themselves across the territory in small groups - each heading in a different direction, but with none of the organisation of previous incursions.

Blackridge had proven more than prepared for such an attack. In recent weeks, increasing their training and drills to such an extent that the quiet efficiency of those left in charge had calmed those prone to hysteria, and the evacuations had proceeded without the panic that had plagued the villages during their last encounter.

As each group was tracked down and subdued, the wolves confusion increased. It rapidly became clear that these pathetic specimens were the dregs of the rogue world. The Ferals, the weak and the fanatically desperate.

Blake stared at the growing pile of corpses on the pyres, each with their own three-clawed tattoo, and tried hard not to think about the look of utter desperation in their eyes as they'd attacked -- all that was left of their diminishing sanity. A merciful death had been the kindest thing he could offer them, but it hadn't made it any more palatable.

"Any ideas?" he asked the wolves gathered around him.

"Okay," said Alex, scratching his head. "If no one else is going to say it, I will. Is it me, or did this scream diversion to you guys?"

"But for what?" Issac sniffed, his nose wrinkling as the overwhelming smell of unwashed bodies drifted from the unlit pyre. "Wouldn't the whole point of a diversion be to lead us away from the pack, then take Blackridge while we were occupied elsewhere? All they did was bring us home."

Blake narrowed his eyes, nudging one of the corpses with his foot. "Any sign of the other symbol?" he inquired.

"Not even a whisper," Alex shook his head. "and we've searched each and every one of them. It just doesn't make sense. I mean, I know rogues aren't exactly civilised, but this lot were half-dead before they attacked us."

They were all dead once they crossed over our borders, Rothan chuckled.

You're laughing? Blake exclaimed incredulously.

What else is there to do? Rothan countered. All the other reactions are overwhelmingly depressing.

You're not helping, Blake snapped.

Was I supposed to?

"They had no help," Issac remarked glumly. "No masking spray, no poison."

No pheromones, Rothan reminded Blake with a shudder.

Blake felt his anger growing. They were right. This was never designed to be an all out attack.

You don't charge in unprepared if you expect to win, and you don't waste your best resources on something you know will be a failed venture. These pathetic wolves were nothing but fodder to whoever was running this show.

"Maybe they were supposed to divert us from the attack on the mercenary camp?" Alex pondered as he filled the gaps in the pyre with kindling. "I don't know, give Fenrik more time?"

"Bit bloody late!" Simon snorted, flinging another body on the pile like a bag of sugar. "Hardly a successfully coordinated plan, was it? That's the last of this group, Alpha," he added, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Blake nodded at him, his eyes on the pyre. It took only a moment for the dry and brittle wood to catch light. The four wolves stared at the flickering flames in silence.

"Alex might be right though," Issac mused after a moments contemplation. "Maybe they simply didn't expect us to find the camp so quickly... their timings were off."

"Massively off," Simon argued. "Besides, why would they help the mercenaries? They wanted Hannah dead, not ransomed back to us." He threw another branch on the merrily burning fire and the flames swallowed it eagerly.

"Actually it makes perfect sense," The Alpha said quietly. "As long as we continue to assume the rogues hired Fenrik in the first place. If he failed to kill her quick enough, and they refused to pay him for his efforts, he could have decided to get his money another way."

"A double cross," Alex murmured. "Makes sense. The attack at the hospital failed spectacularly and rogues aren't exactly renowned for their patience." He clicked his fingers sharply. "The ransom note did say he believed he was owed something..."

Simon was shaking his head. "It still doesn't work. If he double crossed them, why would they help Fenrik by creating a diversion? The last thing the rogues want is Hannah safe and sound with us. Surely they'd attack him themselves?"

"Well, they didn't help, did they?" Alex growled pointing at the dead wolves. "Like you said, this wasn't exactly a success, was it? Besides, why go to all the trouble of trying to take on those monsters Fenrik was creating when they could just leave us to deal with it for them?"

"They had a man on the inside," Issac pointed out. "Maybe they wanted to give him time to finish the job." He looked at Alex thoughtfully. "Actually, that's a good point. Maybe Fenrik was a threat in some way?"

He paced around the burning pyre, careful to stay upwind of the smell as much as possible, and Blake watched as his features twisted into a look of intense concentration. Asher had mentioned more than once that Issac had huge potential for work within the SIA and Blake had started paying closer attention to the young wolf's insights.

"The way I see it," Issac said, thoughtfully. "There are three options on the table. Number one, this was supposed to be a genuine diversion. The rogues were also in negotiations with Fenrik, he was playing both sides to see which of us coughed up the cash first."

"But, they got their timings wrong," Alex added. "We found Fenrik too fast."

"They weren't expecting the witch," Simon snorted in reluctant agreement. "It would explain the skirmishes that night. They wanted to delay the exchange, negotiate their own deal."

It would, Blake agreed silently. But wouldn't it have benefitted Fenrik more to reveal the truth to us without all the messing about?

A rogue working with a pack? Rothan snorted. He'd be slaughtered by his own kind.

"Or," Issac continued. "Option two. Maybe Fenrik took matters into his own hands after they turned on him and he never had any intention of negotiating with the rogues. It would make sense then that this attack was designed to pull us away from our siege and give their inside man a chance to kill Hannah before we could get to her."

"That might have worked as well," Alex admitted glumly. "Had they got their timings right. "

"And option three?" Blake asked.

Issac shook his head. "Maybe this attack had nothing to do with any deals with the mercenaries or us, and we were being used to kill two birds with one stone. Their man takes out Hannah and we take out Fenrik."

Too many maybes, Rothan growled.

The Gamma was staring at Issac with a look of consternation on his face. "You've been spending far too much time around Asher," he muttered to Issac sourly.

The young warrior grinned at him. "Thank you," he said modestly.

"It's not a compliment, Issac," the Gamma sighed. "One Asher is more then enough. He makes my brain hurt enough, without you joining in."

Simon chuckled appreciatively and glanced at his Alpha, but Blake wasn't listening.

"Why would the rogues want to take out Fenrik?" the Alpha asked out loud.

"Infighting," Simon suggested with a shrug. "It's kind of their thing, after all."

"More likely Fenrik wasn't cooperating with their grand plan," Issac argued. "Think about it. None of his men have, or rather had, either of the symbols we've been seeing recently. He'd built up a sizeable and well trained army... he was a threat."

"So why not take him out themselves?" Simon snapped, irritated that the young wolf kept shooting down all his suggestions.

"And lose half their rogues taking on the 'roid wolves?" Issac laughed. "Why would they want to do that when they had us to do it for them?" He frowned as a thought occurred to him. "Fenrik's wolves were better trained than most we've come across so far. He could have decimated the rogues, if he'd wanted to."

"Which suggests he was never working for them in the first place!" Simon threw his arms up in the air. "We're going round in circles."

"Fenrik was a wolf for hire," Blake spoke up, his eyes glowing in the firelight. "He was working for someone." He looked up at his companions, a plan forming in his mind. "Simon, take over the clean up," he said abruptly. "Keep the patrols rotating, strengthen the borders and keep the pack in the safe houses until you're sure all the rogues have been eradicated."

Simon nodded, secretly pleased that Blake was allocating him a role usually reserved for his lieutenants.

"Issac, head for the hospital. Assist Doc as best you can with the wounded and - " Blake hesitated a moment " - begin preparations for the funerals." He looked at the young warrior thoughtfully. "Good insights," he praised him. "You and I should talk, when this is all over."

Issac bowed his head in respect, but his eyes glowed with pride at gaining the Alpha's favour. The two wolves kept their blazing curiosity to themselves with great difficulty, exchanging quizzical glances as soon as the Alpha turned away.

"Alex," Blake flung over his shoulder as he took off down one of the game trails towards the main road. "Come with me. I'm growing very tired of all these maybes."

"Sure," the Gamma said amiably, springing to his side, no less surprised than the other wolves but happy to go with the flow. "Where are we going?"

"To get some answers," came the Alpha's grim reply.

*

Once it became clear Blackridge was in no real danger, Marcus wasted no time halting his group of warriors before they reached the border. Directing them to form a loose perimeter, he took shelter under a low hanging beech tree, rooting out his battered map.

Hannah's words had played on his mind ever since he'd left her. In all they'd marked Fourteen potential camp sites on the map in the area around Blackridge and Elmwood. Three had been ruled out immediately, they were all popular tourist spots for the humans and received frequent visitors.

After scouting, another two were deemed too close to human settlements for a large group of undisciplined wolves to remain hidden for long and one, although seemingly abandoned, was discovered to be under close scrutiny by the historical foundation, eager to get permission to excavate.

Ruling out the Tor, where Blake had led his retreating delegation, had left six viable options that Marcus had circled in red ink on the map. The Blackridge territory had turned out to be surrounded by far more historical sites than any of them had realised. Even after narrowing them down, the remaining six were scattered so far apart that searching them thoroughly was proving to be an arduous and dangerous job. With the information from Hannah however...

He scanned the map carefully. To the North and closest to his position, lay the remains of a civil war era fort - easily defendable of course, but with no obvious religious connotations...

To the east three miles beyond the border, a Barrow. He shook his head. Religious, certainly but far too exposed.

To the north east, and closer to Elmwood than Blackridge, lay an old cave system with a long history of settlements leading all the way back to prehistoric times. Marcus had pencilled in a question mark next to the site as the caves were said to flood every winter - not the best long term hiding place and by far the furthest away from either packs borders.

Finally, two sets of ruins in close proximity to one another lay towards the north west. Separated by the regions largest river, the sprawling remains suggesting a prosperous town had covered a large swath of the forest once upon a time. It had looked promising and Marcus had highlighted both sites as the next areas to scout around.

He scratched his head, turning his back to the wind and wrestling with the precious folds of paper as the wind tried to pry the map from his fingertips.

One of those town sites probably had a chapel, Akoni suggested.

More than likely, Marcus agreed. But which one? And would it suit Fenrik's sense of irony?

It's holy, Akoni sniffed. Isn't that enough for him?

Marcus blinked. That was a good point. Tucking it into his back pocket he turned to his rucksack, rummaging amongst the pockets for his phone. None of the sights screamed religion to him, but he'd been concentrating purely on the human's holy sites, not taking into account the religions favoured by the witches, vampires and werewolves themselves.

"Barnaby?" The querulous old Eta picked up on the second ring. "I need you to check something for me." The wind whipped around the beech trees cutting off the Eta's complaints. "Yes, I know you're on lock down but this is urgent and I can't access the internet from all the way out here."

The snap of a twig put Marcus on alert for a second and he stared intently into the thick foliage, tuning out Barnaby's voice. Between the rogues at the border and the mercenaries from the monastery, no mans land had never been more dangerous.

Nothing, just one of his warriors picking his way clumsily through the brush.

He refocused his attention on the voice on the other end of the phone. "It doesn't matter where I am," he said in exasperation. "Can you get on the internet or not?" A pause. "I don't care if you don't like the internet... no, I can't ask anyone else!"

He sighed. In many ways it would have been far less hassle to ask someone else at the pack to help him - anyone else, he thought irritably as he listened to the Eta complaining, but he knew they had already ruled Barnaby out as the traitor, and besides, the old man knew what to look for. He could find the relevant information far faster than any other wolf.

"Are you on yet?" he asked, stress lacing his voice as another sharp crack filled the air from within the trees. He glared at the offending warrior, making a mental note to pencil in some stealth training for him when he had the chance.

"Yes, yes, I'm on," Barnaby's soft wheeze came over the phone. "What am I looking for?"

"Look up the Craggs," Marcus told him, using the local name for the cave system. "See if you can find any holy connotations. Human or supernatural, it doesn't matter which."

"Confirmed or implied?" Barnaby asked, suddenly interested. History was a subject he thrived on.

"How should I know?" Marcus said. "Try both and see what comes up."

There was a long silence, during which Marcus silently listed all the reasons he was firmly convinced that Eta's were the bane of the universe. The line crackled back into life just as he reached reason eleven; they have unnecessary paperwork for absolutely everything.

"Got it!" Barnaby cackled enthusiastically. "The Craggs have a long and rich history stretching all the way back to the neolithic times, if research is to be believed. They're actually a cluster of three caves and human's settled there around the year - "

"Anything religious?" Marcus interrupted before the Eta could recite the entire history to him.

"A great deal, actually," Barnaby sniffed. "There's evidence to suggest it was used by humans, witches and wolves during different time periods. There's an ancient human burial site at the back of the Cinthorpe cavern, what they think is a pagan alter built into the smallest cave they call Little William, from a witches coven obviously - " The Eta allowed himself a small chuckle. " - and, what appears to be images of one of our Moon festivals scratched into the walls of the largest cave. Ironically, they call that one Tungl, the Icelandic word for moon. Probably referencing similar images found in the famous - "

"I get the idea," Marcus cut him off. "Lots of religion. Do the human's visit them often?"

"Never," Barnaby said after another brief silence. "The land is owned by the local council and they shut it up over a decade ago, for safety reasons. Little William floods every winter and there have been several collapses in and around the Cinthorpe cavern. There's an article here about a young boy who got lost in the maze of passages leading off Tungl... it's dated only a few days before they closed the site down. The last straw for the humans, I imagine."

The perfect hiding place, Akoni mused, and Marcus could feel an edge of excitement emanating from his wolf.

Perhaps, Marcus said, erring on the side of caution.

"Barnaby, one more thing," he spoke into the phone, once again cutting of Barnaby's excitable ramblings about the different theories the humans had come up with for the cave drawings. "Do you know anything about the ruins north west of here? A town of some sort, divided by the river - "

"Yes, of course" Barnaby interrupted, his voice slightly muffled by the bad connection. "I made a study of it in college."

Of course he did, Akoni smirked.

Be nice, Marcus scolded him mildly. "Great," he said out loud to Barnaby. "Was there a chapel or a graveyard? Any religious buildings?"

"There was a chapel," Barnaby said. "There's nothing left but the foundations though. Most of the buildings on the east side of the river burned down around the same time as the monastery. It's a fascinating site, not least because the burial grounds are all located on the opposite side of the river. Of course, it's all been swallowed up by the forest now."

Marcus made an nonsensical noise of agreement, simultaneously swearing over and over in his head. They're all religious sites then. It couldn't be easy for once, could it?

Be nice, Akoni repeated his words back to him mildly.

"Okay, thanks Barnaby." Marcus ended the call before the Eta could start waxing lyrical about the town's layout.

We should really introduce him to Doc, Akoni suggested. They'd keep each other occupied for days.

Only if I'm out of earshot, Marcus muttered, pulling the map back out. The North West settlements or the North East Craggs? The rogues were hidden at one of these locations, they almost had to be. But, which one?

The phone began to vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out and peered at the screen. Alex.

"Where have you been?" the Gamma began before Marcus could get a word in. "I've been calling and calling... Okay, well not that much, but I tried three times at least!"

"What do you want, Alex?" Marcus snapped.

"How quickly can you get to the Clearwater bridge?"