The people of Fekby have retired to their homes for the night, and their black and white wattle and daub houses glow from the inside. The village is quiet bar the occasional distant dog's bark.

We step on a porch covered with a shale roof – the same thin black stones which top all the buildings here. It's different to the thatch that we'd use in Heldana, and it's beautiful. The tense muscles in my shoulders can relax now that we are out of the wilderness. There's just something instinctual that puts us on edge when we're in the wild and not protected by four walls and a roof.

Bevin knocks on the door. Warm light peaks through the cracks between the wood. The thought of sleeping in a bed again has me bouncing inside. Ivan himself could be on the other side of that door. Imagine his surprise when he sees his niece – not a trained soldier, but a farmhand, thought to be lost to the vampire invasion, who bargained and fought to escape the country and reunite with him.

The door opens, revealing a large older woman on the other side.

"I'm Bevin of Calden," Bevin says, "We need a room."

The burly woman's eye sweep over the four of us. After her suspicions are put at ease, she steps back.

We all huddle inside. It's a cozy tavern with a low wooden ceiling – though my perspective may be skewed having spent the last while under the high ceilings in Rahlan's castle. The room is empty besides the two local men drinking ale in the corner and speaking in a low murmur. Neither of them are Ivan, but I suppose that a man of his status wouldn't be wasting time in a bar.

Bevin hands the innkeeper a few coins, and her initial scowl disappears.

"Welcome to the Rose inn," she says, "I'm Venna. Have a seat while I prepare your room."

Bevin, Ina and Aled are quick to drop their bags and find chairs, stretching their arms over their heads the moment they sit down.

I step closer to Venna and whisper her name before she has a chance to leave.

"Yes?" she says.

"This is Fekby?" I keep my voice low so that the others don't hear.

"It is." She raises an eyebrow at my peculiar behavior. I had to be sure that Bevin wasn't trying to trick me.

"Do you know of any other northerners here?" I ask.

"Our healer is a northerner."

I shake my head. Ivan's not a healer. This is supposed to be a regrouping location for the Huntsmen, so there must be a few of them somewhere.

She shrugs before turning away. "There aren't any others." The floorboards creak as she steps down the passage.

My initial excitement falls to the pit of my stomach. Did I travel all this way only to end up in a place where I know no one?

No. Ivan will come, and if not him, then some other Huntsmen who can lead me to him. Until I find something better, I should check with the healer to see if he knows anything.

I follow after Venna. "Where's the healer?"

She presses a door open to a dark room. "The old home at the end of the road."

"Thanks." I take my bag off my sore shoulders and head back to the table where Bevin, Ina and Aled are relaxing.

The golden doorknob hits the table with a loud clank. All three sets of eyes land on me.

"Thank you for your guidance." I drop my bag at the base of the table. "I'm going to search for my family."

"Nonsense," Aled says, "Rest for the night. You can find them tomorrow."

It'll be impossible to get any rest without at least a brief search. The healer could be harboring other northerners too. "I can't wait any longer."

My eyes linger on the hilt sticking out the top of my bag. Ravagers don't roam Faria, and the villagers won't be pleased to see a sword-wielding foreigner sneaking around their homes at night. However, this is land I don't know, with people that don't know me. Most of the men in this village would be able to tackle me, clamp my arms down and overpower me. That wasn't a threat back in Heldana, because I was part of the community. Attacking one of our own would get you cast out, even if the victim was the orphan girl with little to her name. Here, I'm an outsider, and this sword is my only form of protection.

I wrap the sword's blade in the old linen garment and thread it under my belt.

Bevin's fiddling with the doorknob, testing the weight in his hands. "I hope we can trade again one day," he says. I'm not surprised that he enjoys being overpaid.

All my body weight is needed to push the wooden door open as it scrapes against the floor.

A shiver runs through me from the cold air's returning embrace. Shaking it off, I close the door and begin down the road.

On habit, my eyes jump to every dark alley in search of vampires after my blood. My fingers find their way to the healing bite mark on my neck. It's surreal to walk around a settlement at night without the constant vampire threat to which I have become so accustomed. This is a land of humans and humans alone.

The house at the end of the road appears withered compared to the others, with cracked walls and a bleached slate roof. A glow around the doorframe suggests that whoever lives there is still awake.

I give the door a gentle knock. Hopefully this man is helpful.

The door swings open, and I step back in surprise. It's Jaclyn, the woman I befriended in the vampire city dungeon. The last time I saw her, she was chained up with the vampire army.

A huge smile crosses her face. She takes my hand, pulls me inside and closes the door behind her.

I'm enveloped in a hug. My arms wrap around her before I can even process what's happening.

"Where did... how did..." I trail off.

She steps back, still smiling. A fine brown jacket hangs on her shoulders, complementing her long black hair. She looks sharp and professional, so different to the enslaved appearance she had weeks ago – the only appearance that I knew her by. This must be what she was like before they took her.

"The vampires squabbled over the spoils of the city," she says. "The lord lost control, and soon it was everyman for himself, grabbing whatever they could carry. I escaped in the chaos, pretending that I had already been claimed."

Now I'm smiling too. After months of captivity, against all odds, she's managed to piece her life back together.

"Your words sprung to mind from the day we were hunted, when you told me to meet you here," she says. "I made it. The people of Fekby needed a healer, and they offered me this old home. It's been a treat to get back to practicing."

My eyes jump around the room. A fireplace against the wall colors the wooden floors and furniture orange. Despite the homes shabby outside, its cozy in here, and most importantly, it's a home, much more than I have. "It's wonderful."

She glances at the linen covered sword attached to my hip. "You look more like a vampire warrior every day." She smirks. "I've been waiting for you, and I've prepared a room just for you. How did you manage to slip away from that terrible master of yours?"

Rahlan was many things, but he wasn't terrible, not to me. I catch a glimpse of the black-stained skin around Jaclyn's bite. She wouldn't understand what Rahlan is really like after you strip away his threatening vampire shell. I couldn't explain why it felt safe to sleep beside him, why I could open up to him in tears about Jacob, and why I only ran when I did.

The thought of my escape reminds me of my reason for being here. "In the village, are there any Huntsmen?" I ask.

A puzzled look crosses her face. "Huntsmen?" She must not have grown up with the same stories I did.

"Anyone else from our land? Warriors?" I clarify.

Her eyes leave me for the first time since I've arrived. "There's a secretive bunch in the chapel. No one's allowed in, and they aren't particularly friendly."

A group from my homeland, nervous and in hiding – like freedom fighters who've been forced to retreat. That's them.

I spin around and open the door. "Be back soon!" I head out before she has a moment to stop me. This is it. After all this time, after everything I've been through, I'm going to reunite with Ivan.

I remember seeing the chapel in the middle of the village, where the two dirt roads cross. It sticks out for both its height and for being the only stone structure.

"Julia, wait!" Jaclyn calls. I turn to see her closing her front door with one hand while trying to put her long coat on with the other. She hurries after me, only stopping to fix her coat after catching up. "Those men reek of something vile. It's not safe to go alone."

I nod. She's coming with me for no benefit of her own, putting herself in a situation she believes is dangerous just so that I don't have to face it alone. She's a real friend, and she may be my first friend in this new life.

We continue down the road together. The tall stone building is dark, with no light leaking through its seams like the houses surrounding it. Did they move on already? Am I too late?

Two arched wooden doors await us at the porch. Maybe they're just cautious – keeping the chapel dark so they can hide in a building that appears vacant if a vampire comes looking. Rahlan found me because of a candle in a barn after all.

I lift the cold metal knocker and bang it twice against the wood.

The door remains shut, and there's no sound from the other side.

Jaclyn and I glance at one another, and I bang the knocker again.

Pressing my ear against the door reveals nothing.

"Maybe we should come back tomorrow, when the sun's up and there are other people around," Jaclyn says.

I shake my head. Stopping now would be unimaginable, especially when I'm this close.

The doors don't budge no matter how hard I push. "Hello!?" I bang the metal orb against the door again and again. If it's vampire soldiers they're avoiding, then they shouldn't be concerned after hearing a woman's voice. "Hello!?"

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Jaclyn stares at me. I don't care if they are sleeping. This is important. "Hell-"

A latch clicks. I jump back as the door opens outwards just two feet. A huge bald man stands hidden in the door's shadow.

"What?" he growls between his teeth.

If I want him to let me in, then I need to appear authoritative. I square my shoulders. "I'm looking for Ivan, my close uncle."

The creases in his forehead disappear for just a moment at the mention of that name. He knows who I'm talking about. Anticipation grows in my chest. I've found them. There's no doubt that the men here are Huntsmen.

His eyes run up and down my frame as he considers my words. Ivan being a close uncle is a lie, but it may incentivize him to think twice about denying me entry.

"Name?" he asks.

"Julia."

The door snaps shut the instant I answer.

Jaclyn's staring at me with wide eyes. "One of these men is your uncle?" She probably thinks I come from a family of bandits.

Before I can explain, the bald man opens the door again, wider this time, allowing a narrow gap for me to slip through.

Interpreting his silent gesture, I step inside the building before he has a chance to change his mind.

Jaclyn tries to follow, but the man moves to block her path. "There is one niece," he says.

Her eyes dart between me and the man.

"I'll be fine," I say.

The man slams the door closed, and the foyer is completely coated in darkness. A metal latch clicks behind me, locking the door and sealing Jaclyn outside.

Not waiting around for an invitation, I step into the main hall – a large room lined with pews and tall thin windows.

The man's hand lands on my shoulder, and he pulls me back into the foyer.

I glare at him. It seems like no matter whether I'm with vampires or humans, large men think they're welcome to physically push me around.

"Weapons," he growls.

My first reaction is to argue, but that may result in me being expelled. Reluctantly, I pull my sword off my belt and hand it to him.

He places it on a small table beside the door and quickly pats me down.

The second he's finished, I spin around and enter the hall. The rows of windows light the pews in streams of moonlight. There's a figure standing by the alter. Broad shoulders indicate that it's a man, but the rest of his features are obscured in the darkness.

I hurry forward down the aisle before the bald man can stop me.

The figure's back is to me. He has the black and gray peppered hair I remember. We're family, bound by blood. My time wandering without a home are over.

Jumping up onto the raise stone platform, I stop just a foot away from him.

He turns, revealing his slender face, his pointed chin and his dark eyebrows.

It's him. "Ivan-"

He pulls me into a hug. My arms wrap around him too. In the past, our hugs were little more than a formal gesture, but now I feel closer to him than ever before. It's just us now. Together, we will share Jacob's memory.

"Jacob told me you'd come, but I thought it impossible," he says, still holding me. His voice is gruff, as if he's suffered over the last while.

I choke up at hearing him speak that name. Ivan may not be aware of Jacob's terrible fate. "Jacob... He-"

"I know," he says, deducing the meaning from my broken words. I'm grateful that I don't have to say it out loud right now.

He releases me, catching my gaze with his. His brown eyes have a tense look behind them – the look of a man on edge, a man driven to fulfill his mission.

The bald man stands waiting for instruction just a few steps behind me.

Ivan's eyes don't share my relief at finding him. I feel like my struggle is over, like a weight has been lifted off my chest, but the lines in his brow portray a man in the middle of a battle, a man struggling. I recognize that look. It was often on Rahlan's face before he believed Ivan to be dead.

"Your brother was brave. He forfeited his life for a great cause," Ivan says.

Jacob died because Rahlan crossed paths with him after Rahlan's father was assassinated by the Huntsmen. Ivan may have ordered the assassination, but I cannot believe that Jacob would have anything to do with it. The only cause that Jacob would fight for would be the Huntsmen's cause – to protect people, not to assassinate old vampires.

A piece of metal bounces off the stone floor, and the ring echoes around the building. All our eyes snap to the foyer.

The door creaks open. Dim moonlight draws an outline around a man's frame on the other side. It's just enough to make out a cape across his broad shoulders and a curved sword in his hand.

Ivan steps back, pulling me with him. The bald man moves forward to block the aisle.

Heavy boots march over the stone floor, echoing around the room. It's a sound I've heard hundreds of times before. It can't be him. I walked for days. This is a human country. I covered my tracks.

He steps into the hall, and the light reveals his pale skin, his sharp jaw, his ink-black hair and his blood-red eyes. Rahlan.