When Greg woke up the next morning – in Nathan’s hut, not the pack’s – his brother was nowhere in sight. Only a few workers were milling about when he stepped outside. He was relieved to see that Thoko was sitting close by on one of the tree stumps.

“Morning,” he said.

“Greg,” she said, looking up. “You all right?”

“Guess so,” Greg shrugged. “My sheets are all bloody, but it seems to have stopped now.”

“And how’s your head?”

“What about my head?”

Thoko laughed. “You know, sometimes even I’m a little jealous of that werewolf healing. How much beer did you have last night?”

“Not that much,” Greg said. “I mean, for a day right before full moon. Where’s Nathan?”

“On the hunt already,” Thoko said. “Some guard told me he left right after dawn. The captain signed the warrant last night.”

She looked at Greg from the side. “Crazy that they have to put up a crown warrant now, right?”

Greg nodded. He wasn’t happy that Nathan had left alone, but he couldn’t have helped, anyway. Tonight would be his first full moon inside a cage, even though he didn’t absolutely have to transform. Not if the others didn’t, at least.

They sat in silence for a while, until Thoko asked: “Is something else wrong? I’d have thought the rest of the pack would be around to see how you’re doing?”

Greg shrugged. “Not sure they really are my pack,” he admitted after a moment. “Or if they are, I guess I’m not that important a member. They knew,” he added because Thoko was giving him a strange look. “Knew for a whole bloody week that those four were losing it. Didn’t tell me, though.”

Thoko frowned. “What the hell were they waiting for?”

“They wanted to see whether Bernadette could stop the process,” Greg said, shrugging. “And they worried I’d tell Nathan, and that he’d go and kill them anyway.”

“But that’s just crazy! I mean – if an elder werewolf could stop the process, why were there ever any mad werewolves in the first place?” Thoko pointed out. “They’ve existed in Loegrion before the Empire came, didn’t they?”

Greg nodded glumly. “Probably,” he said. “Records are sort of sketchy, though. Or maybe that’s just because the Church didn’t want any knowledge about them to get out. Mr. Higgins, my old tutor, and I, we spent some time at the archives in Deva, trying to learn more, but they’re huge, and well. We had other things to do, too. There are hardly any records from the time before the invasion left, though, and nothing about werewolves. Either they were much rarer back then, or they didn’t attack so many people. Or who knows, maybe it was such a common thing that chroniclers didn’t find it all that noteworthy.”

He fell quiet, and Thoko didn’t say anymore, either. He was glad she was there, though. Without the work with the engineers to distract him, and without the pack to talk to, it would have been a miserable day, otherwise. Even more miserable than a day before full moon always was.

After the party last night, the mood within the settlement was subdued everywhere today. Workers basked in the sun, or played card games in front of the pub. Some newspapers went around, too. Greg tried, but couldn’t concentrate enough to read. Mostly, he and Thoko sat next to each other in silence at a table in front of the pub, where the nice woman from last night was happy to serve breakfast, and second breakfast for Greg, and lunch and tea, too. He couldn’t stop wondering what the rest of the pack was doing right now, and he worried about Nathan, too. Especially when it began to rain right after lunch.

How far had the Rot retreated? And what direction did the mad one run, anyway?

They stayed outside despite the weather. The thought of going inside, where it was packed with people, made Greg’s hands curl into fists and his teeth grind together. Even Nathan’s empty hut was more than he could stand.

He wanted to tell Thoko that she didn’t have to sit with him in the rain and watch him glare at passersby in silence, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

The sound, when a train arrived at the brand new station and blew its whistle loudly, nearly made Greg run over there and attack someone. What were they needing a delivery for today of all days anyway?

“Look, Greg!” Thoko suddenly said. “Look! It’s David!”

Greg followed her gaze in disbelieve. Of course, Thoko was right: There was David, leading his gelding into the camp, and Lane deLande at his side, and right behind them, there was – Mr. Higgins?

Greg was out of his seat before he fully realized what he was seeing. He stopped just a couple of feet in front of David and deLande – he could have sworn that he could feel the cold emanating from all the silver the two of them were carrying.

David had to admit that travelling by train was a lot more convenient than riding the ten miles out to what the clerks at the company headquarters at Eoforwic had referred to as “First Camp.” He still would have very much preferred to spend all day on horseback sweltering in the août-heat, to get there, rather than spend half an hour in a freight compartment with Duke George Louis, Mr. Higgins, Prof. Audenne, and an assortment of other scientists. Since usually only workmen and materials used it, this line didn’t yet have proper passenger coaches, and they were all getting jostled around a lot.

The one positive thing was that Prof. Audenne was keeping up a steady stream of conversation with George Louis, so David didn’t have to talk to him.

He had been very surprised when, after they had all boarded the train in Eoforwic and had been waiting to depart for nearly an hour, George Louis had climbed through the open hatch without any of the usual fanfare, and only one clerk to accompany him. Not even guards had followed him.

“I just want to see the progress with my own eyes,” he had claimed.

There was a lot of progress to admire, David had to admit when they disembarked. The first was, of course, the fact that they could travel out to “First Camp” by train at all. Even more impressive was the train station they had reached, complete with a platform, freight lifts, and even a waiting booth. David had no idea who might be using the latter. It wasn’t like any returning workers had far to walk from the gates of First Camp over to the station, and it would be much safer to wait behind them, anyway. They were close to a river, after all.

There was no sign of the Rot, though, not even the slightest. Down in the valley beyond the small station, the river ran as peacefully as any creek in the heartlands. David couldn’t smell a whiff of the Rot either, despite the steady drizzle.

“It looks almost peaceful,” Lane noted. “You wouldn’t think it was the first night of full moon tonight,” she added, gesticulating towards the wide-open gates of the camp.

“Oh, it’s perfectly safe again, Madam,” a passing guard assured them. “We’ve got some very fine werewolves at the camp. They took care of most of the troublesome ones yesterday, and our hunter set out this morning to get the last one.”

Lane and David exchanged a long look, then shrugged at the same moment. Without needing to talk about it, they decided to unload their horses right away.

When they had calmed the animals enough to lead them down the ramp onto the platform, a heavy-set man in a rumpled suit had arrived to show Duke George Louis all the work that had been accomplished at the station. David and Lane decided not to take the tour, but to go ahead and enter the camp. Mr. Higgins followed them, and so did Prof. Audenne.

“I wonder what kind of trouble they’ve had yesterday,” Lane said quietly.

“Me too,” David replied.

Nathan had written in his last letter that he and Greg might join the work at the bridge, so surely they had been involved in whatever had been going on around here?

Right outside the camp’s walls, next to the wide-open gate, were two heavy iron cages positioned, each one big enough to hold a werewolf. David was relieved to see that they were empty; so hopefully, Greg hadn’t been forced to spend all day inside such a contraption.

Once inside the high wooden walls, David paused to admire the little town that appeared to have been dumped right into the forest by some kind of god. It was hard to believe that humans and werewolves together had wrestled the settlement from the Rot within just a few months.

And there, right in front of the building that had a sign with “First Pub” attached to its walls, sat Greg and Thoko at a table, out in the rain. Greg was hunched over a plate, but Thoko had already spotted them and was waving at them. David grinned, when Greg looked up, his face quickly going from surprise to shock. He jumped out of his seat and came running over, his gaze fixed not on David, but Mr. Higgins, and then stopped abruptly a few feet in front of David and Lane, his mouth still hanging open.

He looked bad. The full moon agitation his eyes were burning with David had been prepared for, but there was also a bandage coming loose around his neck, pink with rain-diluted blood. His whole shirt was drenched with water. David could only hope that the rain made the bloodstains blooming on that look worse than they actually were as well.

“You look like crap,” David said when Greg didn’t speak. “What happened here?”

“What are you doing here?” Greg asked at the same moment. “Long story,” he added.

David waited for more explanation to follow, but Greg was staring at Mr. Higgins again. David didn’t want to delay their reunion more than necessary, so he asked: “Where’s Nathan?”

Maybe he had some answers.

But it was Thoko who said: “Four of the very – new – werewolves they had here went mad yesterday. Greg fought three, and they all died, but the fourth one got away. Nathan went after him this morning.”

Four mad werewolves all at once, good grief. Hadn’t he warned George Louis to be careful about the newly bitten ones? What had they even written that bloody pamphlet for, if not even the company heeded their advice?

“Sounds like you had a busy few days,” David said aloud. “We’re here to escort some scientists,” he added, and stepped aside a little before Mr. Higgins pushed him out of the way.

Greg nodded silently and stared anxiously at his former tutor.

David sighed inwardly. He wished they could have had this reunion any day that wasn’t full moon, but the schedule had been what it was.

“Duke Desmarais wants a study done on werewolves,” David explained when Greg just stood there, frozen at the spot. “Proper research.”

That finally shocked Greg into speaking. “To find out what?” he asked, looking worried.

“Everything we can,” Mr. Higgins said and pushed through between David and deLande. David grabbed him by one shoulder when he opened his arms to hug Greg.

“You okay, Greg?” David asked.

Greg nodded but said: “No hugs. Please.”

Mr. Higgins dropped his arms. “You – do remember me, right, Greg?” he asked, looking a little lost.

Greg’s smile looked forced. “Yes,” he said. “It’s just really not a good time for hugs. Are you hungry? Thirsty? There’s a pub.”

Mr. Higgins finally seemed to be catching on. “The pub sounds good,” he said, and he followed Greg and Thoko over to the roughly-hewn table where they had been sitting before.

“Go with them,” Lane said quietly when David hesitated. “I’ll take your horse and see if I can find out the official version of what’s going on here.”