Digger took Pierre’s place, holding out his hands for the helmet Andrew had placed underneath the table on his lap.

“Can I have that back now?” he asked.

“Sure. Thank you, the stuff worked great.” Still, Nathan was very glad to give it all back. All those amulets were heavy! Digger didn’t seem to find the bundle too cumbersome when he took it to a presumably safe place.

Then it was suddenly just Nathan and Andrew. Sitting on a table in the cold spring evening. At least it was dry.

“What happened here?” Nathan asked again, with a look at the destroyed camp. It was a small miracle that the kitchen had somehow survived, and apparently enough of the supplies that people could get some hot food. Nearly everything else was in ruins. There were two huge, but half destroyed clay figures not far away, and two others, still upright, stood motionless besides the community building with its gaping holes in the walls. It still had a roof, though, so that was where the injured had been put up.

“What are those things? The clay-figures?” Nathan added, because Andrew didn’t answer right away.

“Isaac called them golems. Mr. Kohen animated them somehow and ordered them to defend the big communal hall. The Rot doesn’t affect them and they’re big enough to rip a brute to pieces. Still, there was an army – like Oldstone castle. When the Rot-queens showed up, they turned all the creepers into brutes, just like Ragna said, and the golems couldn’t be everywhere at once. We hid inside, holding onto each other – the queens kept getting into our heads, trying to make us open the doors to let them in. Never got all of us at the same time, luckily. We barely managed to keep things together long enough for Morgulon to arrive. By that point, the wall’s were holey as cheese, but with Morgulon close by, we could fight back.

She waited until the new pack got here, and then attacked. I don’t know if there’s been some kind of communication between Morgulon and Greg’s new friends, but somehow they showed up here within a few hours.”

“Must have sensed each other, right? David did say it gets stronger as they age, so I bet Morgulon knew that Greg had recruited Pierre before they even left the Crucible Ridge.”

“Right,” Andrew said. “I wish she’d have mentioned something.”

“When does she ever volunteer information? We should have asked.”

“True.”

“Are you okay?”

Andrew laughed, a hollow, unhappy sound. “Am I okay? I didn’t go face to face with a Rot-queen.”

“You look like crap, though. I mean, even more than usual. Asides, what’s a Rot-queen going to do to me, drive me crazy? Too late.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Sure it is. We survived.”

“How many more times, Nathan? Fuck, this is why I wanted to quit. I can’t – I hate this, Nathan. All of it.” Andrew’s hand on the table was shaking slightly.

“Which is why you’re generally considered the smart one amongst us.” Nathan shrugged.

Where was Greg when you needed him? He was bad at this whole talking people off a ledge thing. Or dealing with delayed panic attacks. That was David’s job. Unless David was the one who got the shakes hours after it was all over, in which case he usually holed up somewhere until Andrew went to find him. Or they sent Greg to talk about random stuff nobody gave a damn about until it stopped.

“You can quit, you know that?” Nathan tried.

Andrew just scoffed. “Right. Sure. Quit. Stand back while you all risk your lives.”

Nathan at least knew enough not to point out that that had been Andrew’s plan before this mess.

“Tell me you’re really okay,” Andrew repeated.

“Don’t make me walk for a week and yes, I promise I’ll be fine. If you don’t trust me, trust the werewolves: Morgulon and Ragna smelled the Rot on Oli, I swear. They washed him down with their tongues until they were sure he was free of it, but they never even glanced at me. And Morgulon did carry me back. Speaking of the devil.”

Lane and Morgulon were approaching their table, Lane with two bowls of food, Morgulon with a large piece of cured beef. Lane put the bowls down, one in front of Andrew, the other in front of Nathan, before she took a seat. Spoons stuck out of a thick stew.

“Don’t tell me you still aren’t eating,” Andrew said.

“I like to finish what I started,” Lane shrugged. “People will be up until midnight, I’ll have something then.”

“Makes sense,” Nathan lied, and dug in. Morgulon did, too, but Andrew asked her:

“Nathan said you guys can smell the Rot’s influence on someone?”

Morgulon nodded, chewing industriously. Andrew looked like he wanted to ask more, but then he reached for his spoon and finally started eating. “Thank you,” he said after a moment. “Thank you for your help. I should have said that earlier.”

Morgulon shrugged.

“She says you’re welcome,” an old man said. He had stopped a couple of yards behind Morgulon. Nathan needed a moment to realize that this had to be Pierre. He really was old, his beard completely white and only his hair still with a little black in it. He wore a very simple white robe that hung down to his naked feet. Greg hovered behind him with two bowls of food, like some kind of retainer, while Ragna walked around Morgulon and up to the long bench, her own bowl of food in hand.

“Mind if we sit?” she asked.

“Not at all,” Andrew said.

So Ragna did, right next to Lane. Pierre watched her until she started eating, too, before he finally followed her example. He left room for Greg to slide into, though, so he wouldn’t sit right next to Andrew. Greg looked tense.

“Pierre,” Ragna broke the silence that settled over the table. “It’s not fair to put that kind of stress on the kid. This is his family.”

The old guy glared at Ragna, who didn’t appear impressed. Morgulon barked softly, and he closed his eyes and massaged his brows, and Nathan thought he took a deep, deliberate breath.

“Apologies, Greg,” he said finally and turned to his food.

Greg gasped, surprised, and took a few deep breaths. He suddenly felt as if a weight had been lifted off his chest. What – had Pierre been doing something to him?

His brothers were both looking at him, Nathan with a curious, Andrew with a worried expression.

“We’d like to hear how your journey has gone,” Andrew said after a few seconds. “I mean, it was obviously successful, and much more so than David ever dared to hope, I’m sure.”

Greg nodded slowly. He felt shy suddenly, surrounded by the three elders. “It – well, it ended better than it started,” he said.

“Is Lee all right?” Andrew asked. “What happened?”

“Oh yes. He went with another member of Pierre’s pack, they’ll go up north, way beyond Mannin. They’ll aim for King’s Haven and hopefully gather another pack of people willing to help.”

“And you?” Andrew asked. “How did you get hurt?”

Greg shrugged, and inwardly prepared for Andrew’s mother-henning. “We ran into a pack that – well, they attacked us. Because we came from here. From human lands.”

Who? Morgulon interrupted.

“Adelaide and pack.”

“They moved further west when Greg and Lee escaped,” Pierre informed her.

Morgulon considered that. How did Lee escape?

“I, uh, I attacked Adelaide. Pinned her to the ground until Lee had run. I bit her a little, cause I hoped they would worry about her rather than follow us. Didn’t work, though. They caught up with us and almost killed us. Pierre stopped them at literally the last moment.”

“I was nearly too late,” Pierre elaborated. “They ripped open his throat, and broke his foot, too.”

Andrew and Nathan looked startled, staring at Greg.

“They what?” Nathan snapped.

Greg raised his head carefully, just enough to present the mangled lines of still pink scar tissue underneath his chin.

His brothers both cursed.

“How long did that take to heal?” Lane asked.

“Two full moons. We got moving as soon as I could walk properly again. My foot is still a bit sore. That’s why it’s mostly Lee looking for others. I basically spent the last months lying in a cavern.”

“Damn,” Andrew muttered. “How much danger is Lee going to be in?”

“Oh, he’ll be fine,” Pierre reassured them. “Edith should be enough to keep him safe from anything but a Rot-queen. And she’ll note one of those early enough to avoid it.”

“Mind if I ask how old she is?” Lane wanted know.

Pierre looked over his shoulder to where his pack and the other newcomers had gathered around a table, warily eying the surroundings. “Why do you want to know?”

“We’ll need to pass that on,” Lane explained. “To David Feleke, who is in charge of all werewolves in Loegrion. He’ll need to know how old you all are, so he’ll be able to deploy you against the Rot efficiently.”

Pierre considered that. “Edith is sixteen.”

Greg looked from Lane to his brothers, trying to read their faces. Why were they even here, at this construction site? How was the war going? Where they winning? Losing?

“All this is very good news,” Nathan interrupted his thoughts. “David will be thrilled to hear about all of you.”

“True,” Lane said. “We should send a message as soon as the telegraph is back in order.”

“Ha, we might walk there faster than that!” Nathan joked. “Even with my bad leg.”

“Where is David?” Greg asked.

“Deva, dealing with the paperwork and the politics regarding werewolves.”

“The Relentless. Dealing with paperwork instead of hunting werewolves?” Pierre shook his head. “Hard to believe that. What sort of paperwork?”

Andrew shrugged. “Reading reports and compiling lists, mostly. There are werewolves stationed all along the coast, and he’s supposed to keep track of all of them. Each garrison or village that is reinforced in that way is supposed to report in regularly.”

“Why?”

“So we can learn what works and what doesn’t. Since he’s in charge of the werewolf-forces, David’s also considered the authority on how to fight the Rot most efficiently. So he’s got all kinds of people sending him reports, even scientists. Rust’s group has a werewolf writing about their progress, too.”

“Oh? Where is Rust?”

“Cleansing the Stour.”

“Did David say where we’ll get stationed?” Greg asked. He hoped it wouldn’t be some village in the middle of nowhere.

“Well, he had no idea we’d meet you here,” Nathan pointed out. “David had just sent us to First Camp to check everything was all right, then Neville told us there was something moving in the forest. And here we are.”

“I bet you’ll go straight to Deva,” Lane said.

“What? No way!” Greg stared at her. “They’ll never – you really think so?”

“Pierre is the most powerful elder besides the Morgulon,” Lane pointed out. “So David will need to place him somewhere central. Deva has the most railway connections besides Eoforwic. Morgulon’s already at Brines, so Deva is only logical.”

“Sun, I hope you’re right,” Greg sighed. “That would be awesome.”

But it probably wouldn’t be Deva itself, would it? Duke George Louis wouldn’t want them in the city itself. Just like Morgulon wasn’t really living in Eoforwic.

Maybe a nice little village, with a railway station. That wouldn’t be too bad? Someplace with a proper roof above their head. Mr. Higgins would be able to visit him there, and Gustave, too. Provided he wanted to.

If he was even allowed to stay with Pierre. David had said that he tried to let packs stay together, but would he be counted as a member? And Pierre’s pack was so big. Five elders? David might have to separate them.

Or perhaps David would allow him to actually chose now what he wanted to do next. If so, where would he want to go? Would Thoko be willing to go to Deva with him?

“Greg?”

“Sorry, Andrew, yes?”

“I was just asking if you want seconds.”

Greg nodded and pushed his bowl over as Andrew got up. When he returned, Isaac was following him, and then Eyal sat down, too, to talk to Pierre about where the pack could sleep tonight with so many barracks destroyed.

“Will you stay here?” Andrew asked.

Eyal nodded. “We have sent messengers across the river. The roadhouse on the northern shore hasn’t been attacked, and they’ve passed on everything that happened here via telegraph. The section of tracks between them and Mannin is nearly finished, so we should have help from the city as soon as the sun is fully up. Hopefully, they’ll have healers or doctors for us. Medical supplies. Materials to repair the walls will take longer, and we don’t know how much more men they can hire, especially if word gets out of what happened here. Would you be willing to stay for a few days, Pierre, until we can secure the camp again and transport the wounded?”

Pierre shrugged. “I don’t see why we couldn’t,” he said. “It might not be a bad idea for us to take a little time to get used again to – people. Morgulon doesn’t want to stay, though.”

“That’s understandable,” Eyal said. “And if the rest of you guys stay, I don’t think it’ll be an issue.”

“We’ll message David as soon as possible,” Andrew promised.

“How – how bad was it?” Greg asked softly. “How many – dead?”

Eyal sighed. “We’ll have to wait and see who survives the night,” he said. “We have – let’s see... Eighteen missing, I fear we have to presume them dead. And we found twenty-one bodies in the wreckage so far, and a lot, a lot of bad injuries. Anshel lost an eye, and Randal and Dicun are both in a bad state. Mendel. And I think you know Harold, too? He’s –“ Eyal shook his head. “It’ll take a miracle for him to survive,” he said quietly.

Greg followed Isaac to the large building in the centre of the camp, where most of the fighting had happened and which now served as an infirmary. A lot of navvies had gathered here, and the man named Mr. Kohen stood at the lectern, praying with some of the other Wayfarers. Anshel was awake and actually thanked Greg, and then some of the other injured did, too. It was too much for him, especially since all he had done was get jumped by the Rot-queen, forcing Gertrude to save him.

She was there, together with Alister, second oldest of Pierre’s pack since Ragna had left. They moved around in their wolf-bodies to make sure that no Rot could infest the wounds.

Since he couldn’t really help, Greg left again, too wired to sleep, too tired to really do anything. He and Isaac ended up sitting on Isaac’s bed, which afforded them a great view of the camp since one wall had collapsed. Greg told his friend about everything that had happened in the mountains, and Isaac finally told him the details about the battle and the other things he had missed while he had been gone.