"Oh dear, how unfortunate, " Klaus said in the flattest tone Viola had ever heard in her life.

"Is there something wrong with your generator?" Viola asked.

It wasn't completely dark yet, but all she could see was a dusky shape of the man standing by the counter.

"There's no generator," he said. "Well, there's one, but it doesn't work. The electricity is from the Ferguson farm. There are cables buried underground. If the farm loses power, so does the cabin."

Viola got up and shone her torch in her phone out of the kitchenette window. The snow was falling like a thick white wall behind it.

"Must be the storm," she said, quickly calculating their options in her mind. "Do you have a wood burner?"

"I do," he said just as nonchalantly. "But there's no wood. As you can imagine I'm not that diligent with the chopping."

Viola threw him an irritated look.

"I don't think you're taking your situation seriously enough. Well, then, get dressed," she said and got up.

"I am dressed," he said and looked down at himself.

"Your jacket and boots," she said, feeling more and more exasperated. "I'll drive you to the Hall. Or do you prefer to stay with one of the Holyoakes?"

"Neither preferably," he said. "I'm quite comfortable here, thank you."

"Without electricity or fire, you'll go into hypothermia in less than an hour." Viola shivered. "To think of it, it's rather cold here already."

"The glass in the backdoor is broken," he announced, just as blasé as before. "I'm sure electricity will be back in no time." He took the kettle off the hob and started pouring water in his mug. "So, shall I still make you tea, or will you be going?"

Viola took a measured breath in, reining her temper.

"Niklas, I know krav maga," she announced. "I'll land you on your back, unconscious, in about three seconds, and then I'll drag you to my car, load you in it like a rolled up carpet, and deliver your floppy form to the Nidhogg Hall to your full and utter humiliation," she said. "Get your bloody jacket and boots."

He gawked at her, his lips opening softly. Suddenly, a slightly unrelated revelation came to Viola. Is that how Rhys feels most of the time?! Like the only sane and capable person surrounded by whinging tots?! She suddenly felt acute appreciation for her ex-husband. Is he, though, her... ex? Viola scolded herself for the untimely soppiness, and focused on the man in front of her.

Niklas closed his mouth and plodded to a boring looking wardrobe by the entrance door. Viola started pulling on her jacket, trying not to think of the fact that her Panda was in no way a countryside worthy vehicle and most likely the two of them would get stuck somewhere mid-way from here to Fleckney Woulds. Just as Klaus said before. Damn it.

She pulled out her phone from her pocket. There wasn't a second of doubt in her mind whom she'd ring up now - but then she saw there was no network. She still sent Rhys a message assuming it would get delivered when the network was back.

She saw Niklas slowly lower himself on the floor to put on his boots, and then he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes.

"Would you like some help?" Viola asked softly, and he shook his head.

"I can't risk it," he said without opening his eyes. His lips were white, and she saw his throat bob when he swallowed with difficulty. "You might decide I'm moving too slowly and chop me down like a dummy on a tatami."

He straightened his back and started pulling on his boots. Viola turned off the torch on her phone to conserve the battery.

"I'll go outside first, to dig up the car," she said. "And you should—"

She didn't get to finish, interrupted by some loud scraping noise outside the door - and then a series of howled meows.

"That's Persimmon," Klaus said and jerked towards the door. He hissed, his face distorted in pain. "Could you please open it? She always meows like that."

Viola opened the door and stared at the black cat on the threshold. One could hardly see it, just its head sticking out of the deep snow. The animal emitted a long mournful holler.

"Well, get inside!" Viola said, but the cat didn't move and only screamed louder. "Why isn't it coming in?" she asked Klaus.

"Persimmon! Come here, girl!" Niklas said in a shockingly lilting voice and made a few little kissing noises. "What's the matter, girl?"

The cat screamed again and then made a loop, running around the porch and coming back to the door, while still meowing desperately.

"Oh God, Varya must be out in the woods!" Klaus exclaimed and scampered to get up, grabbing to every possible thing in his reach.

Viola stepped to him and pulled him up to his feet.

"Pardon?"

"Varya must be in the woods, that's why Persimmon is here!" Niklas made a few hasty awkward steps outside. The cat ran down the steps and then back up to him. "She's trying to tell us Varya needs help!"

"Niklas, it's preposterous," Viola scoffed. "It's not 'telling' us anything. It's just a cat."

"Have you ever had a cat?" he asked sharply.

Viola had to admit she hadn't.

"I have. Quite a few, actually," he said tensely. "And they are endlessly intelligent. This one— Well, let's put it this way. It has more brains than some of our mutual relatives. So, if it's telling us to go to the woods—" He stopped in his tracks, and Viola saw some sort of internal struggle in him. He then sighed, as if steeling himself. "Viola, I need your help. I can't go there alone. I'm not— not strong enough."

She met his eyes.

"Please," he said, his voice low and emotional.

"Alright," she grumbled. "But just because you're my patient, and I can't leave you alone, because you're obviously having a mental breakdown."

A small smile touched his lips. He studied her face and then nodded.

"Thank you," he said.

Viola gave out a fake exasperated groan.

"But, Niklas, I'm putting my foot down as your GP, and I'm telling you to take your prescription meds right now," Viola said.

He opened his mouth, no doubt to argue, but then he looked at the cat that was making small anxious circles on the porch - and he nodded and headed back inside the cabin. Viola looked down at her Patek Philip. His painkillers and muscle relaxants would kick in in about twenty minutes.

He was back, still drinking water from a large clay mug, which he hastily pushed on a shelf near the door.

"Let's go," he said and stepped outside.

"Try to walk slowly," Viola said, following him. "If you pull a muscle now, we won't make it far."

The cat headed down the steps and straight into the woods, in the direction opposite from Viola's car and the road she'd come by. If Viola didn't see it with her own eyes, she'd never believe it: the animal was walking confidently, pausing and looking back at them from time to time, as if indeed leading them somewhere.

Their progress was slow. As much as he was pushing himself, Niklas was struggling. The snow reached his knees, and he was heavy enough to fall through in the deeper spots. At some point Viola took over and ordered him to follow in her footsteps. She could feel her muscles getting tired already from all this 'ploughing,' her thighs and calves burning, and she mentally thanked her obsessive workout habit. The woods were growing thinner, but it simply meant that there was more snow on the ground.

"Viola," Niklas called raspily, and she glanced behind her. He stood, holding on to a tree. "I need— I need a moment. Just a bit—"

"Niklas, how about I go on without you? I'll remember where I left you," she said with a fake laugh. "And you can follow once you feel better."

"It's not the pain. It's— Zanaflex," he said and then scooped a handful of snow and rubbed it to his face. "I think I mis— miscalculated the dose. I'm... dizzy."

Viola felt like swearing. She turned and stepped to him, but a loud meow behind her made her halt.

"Go, please," he said in a begging tone. "I'll be— fine."

Viola looked at her watch again. She could leave him for no more than ten minutes, in case he lost consciousness and collapsed in the snow. On the other hand, against all odds, her gut feeling was to follow the cat.

"Try to stay upright," she ordered. "I'll follow the daft animal for another five minutes and then I'm turning around. And you and I are going back to my car. Do you hear me?"

"Varya is there," he muttered, his speech getting slurred. "I'm sure— I'm sure of it."

Viola decided that arguing would be the least efficient use of her energy at the moment.

"Alright, Persimmon, lead the way," she said, feeling like an idiot talking to a cat.

Still, the animal as if understood and headed on. This time Viola did swear, mostly astonished by her own unreasonable behaviour - and yet, she continued tailing the feline.