#2022challenge

It simply observed him with yellow eyes, its ears perked up, alert for any possible dangers. Its fur was a mottled grey-and-brown with a darker streak along its back; the throat and chest area a creamy white. There was some old scarring along one shoulder, like it had been in a fight long ago. Ben noticed that both of its ears were pierced, leading him to believe this was no regular wolf. He sensed an intelligence behind its eyes – also, a regular wolf would likely leave him the hell alone.

Quickly cycling through his Fae knowledge, the options he could think of were either a Fae creature that could shapeshift; a once-human soul taken by the Fae; or a werewolf, although he disregarded that last one immediately. Only the most experienced werewolves could transform without the full moon’s help, and while Fae in nature they remained on earth, having no ties to this world.

Of the two options remaining, an ex-human would pose the least risk, although nothing in here could be trusted – he’d learned that the hard way. Luckily, nowadays he mostly didn’t have to rely on trust: what can’t be seen, can’t be bargained with; what can’t be bargained with, can’t be tricked. And despite the obstacle in his way, he wasn’t planning on letting it happen this time, either.

“I’m not here to cause trouble,” he told it. “Only to observe.”

It blinked once, giving him no indication as to whether it had understood.

“Will you allow me to do that?”

It growled in reply, tilting its head slightly as if to say “we’ll see”.

“Alright then,” he mumbled, more to himself than anyone else.

Keeping one eye on his guardian, he tried to make sense of what was going on in the background. The Fae congregation was gathered around the Nexus, that much was clear. From experience he knew he shouldn’t get too close, lest he be detected, but from his current position he hadn’t quite arrived at that threshold yet. He would have preferred to get a little closer, but the wolf made this impossible. He suddenly wondered whether this had been the reason of its intervention: it was clear that some sort of ritual was taking place, perhaps it didn’t want the Nexus to be distracted by an outsider during such a time.

Trying to see through the mass of vines and antlers, he caught a glimpse of the figures present at the core of the ritual at the base of the Nexus’ trunk. There was the Root, in ceremonial dress, and a ring of Fae who were holding lights – a ritual he recognised as the luminus. It was a ceremony which usually preceded important events, during which the light, facilitator of photosynthesis – and with it, life – was honoured. It had always struck him as a bit odd that this was done during the night, but they must have their reasons. The Root was just in the process of handing out the last lantern, completing the circle, meaning that whatever was being performed was about to begin.

Only now Ben noticed the crelor, in the middle of the circle, right up against the Nexus’ trunk. It had been there all along, camouflaged against its bark. Its hands were pressed against it as if in a healing position, but it was unmoving, while the healing Ben had seen it do many times over had involved specific motions along the damaged surface. It was waiting for the ritual to finish, he realised.

His mind ran wild with the implications, trying to puzzle together what exactly was going on here and what it meant. Was this the main event of the evening? Was the Nexus damaged in some way? He didn’t see any notable scratches, disease or broken branches, but he knew that this didn’t mean anything, and there were many things that could be wrong with it. Apparently circumstances were bad enough for a crelor to cross unimaginable distances across country borders. And Ben with it.

The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him. He had left this place, left his home behind, running from his past. Troubled by guilt, plagued by new obstacles found on his way, he had thrown himself into his studies of the Fae. His hatred of them had dragged him through it, given him something to focus on. And now? Now those same studies had brought him right back to the place where all of this had started, a last cruel trick of the creatures that had toyed with him, used him to their own entertainment. Oh, how he hated them. If it was up to him all of his knowledge, everything he’d gathered over the years would be used to destroy them, wipe them off the face of the earth for good.

But it wasn’t up to him. Logically, he had known that taking out the Fae – all Fae – would be impossible. As was the case with many hunters and those they hunted, there were always too many of “them” and never enough of “us”. Any kind of organised move was futile, as others would simply take their place after it was done. All they could ever do was react to those that posed a threat, and keep the people safe – a job that felt highly frustrating at times.

The lights started to shine brighter as the Root finished their incantation.

The wolf’s ears twitched restlessly: it sensed that something was happening behind it.

“You can watch if you want,” Ben indicated, his voice hushed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

It stared at him blankly for a moment, then let out a growl and watched him with renewed focus.

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged.

Surrounded by a circle of lights, the crelor now started to glow as well. Streaks of light were travelling up from its roots – or rather: what was left of them after walking such an impossible distance – snaking throughout its body towards the crown of leaves surrounding its head, colouring it in a golden hue. Flowers made of pure light started to grow and bloom from within it, each one opening in a cloud of glittery pollen, like stardust. Ben had never seen a crelor sprout flowers before, let alone these flowers. He did a rough sketch of their shape for Janna, his every move watched by the wolf’s wary eye.

In its new, luminous form the crelor started a series of familiar movements. First it bent down to the ground, touching the Nexus’ roots, then moved its hands upwards, following the flow of nutrients inside the tree. After repeating this a couple of times, it started moving its hands along specific points on the Nexus’ trunk in circular motions. Ben had witnessed this practice before, although performed on regular trees: it was a healing ritual. He had seen the life return to withered trees within the hour, new leaves sprout, broken branches mended. It was truly a sight to behold, each and every time again. Even though they were Fae, he didn’t think he could ever find it in his heart to hunt a crelor.

The thing was: he couldn’t seem to find anything wrong with the Nexus. It looked healthy as ever, standing tall with vibrant leaves. But perhaps it required a closer look. He reached into his pack – which prompted another growled warning from the wolf – looking for his binoculars. Having found them, he held them up for it to see, to show he didn’t take out a weapon. The wolf gave him an undeterminable look in return, almost as if it was making fun of him.

“Just because you don’t want to look, doesn’t mean I won’t…” he mumbled, peering through its lenses.

The Nexus appeared to be just like the others he’d seen: big, tall, and full of totems. The ritualistic artefacts occupied the branches like a flock of unruly birds, their stringy limbs fluttering in the breeze, pieces clattering together like eerie wind chimes. Ben counted many effigies, but not as much as he’d seen in other places. These loops, crafted out of wicker or twigs, each served to bind a human to the Fae world, the energy of their soul sustaining the Nexus. In its centre, parts of an animal were placed; an animal that would become an integral part of the captured human, slowly changing them until they’d become unrecognisable. He’d witnessed the ritual once, purely by chance, and had been fascinated and horrified alike. More often, he’d seen its end results wandering aimlessly about the forest, eyes glazed over, their minds more animal than human. They were rarely dangerous, but he avoided them anyway, being deeply unsettled by them. The sight of them stirred memories he would prefer to keep locked away.

There were many more artefacts strung up, some of which he could determine the purpose of, based on the materials used. There were wards, meant to repel: structures wrapped in thorns and decorated with claws or teeth. Charms used for plant growth or a good harvest usually contained seeds or fruits, while charms for good fortune often included honey. Eyes signified the future; feathers indicated travel or great distances; spider silk usually marked a trap or trick of some kind – or it simply meant a spider had made its home inside of the contraption. Ben was in no way an expert: there were many more totems he was clueless about, and the things he did know he had gathered from human sources, never directly from the Fae – they’d never been very talkative.

One of them, however, stood out to him. A small human figure with glowing red eyes and a gaping hole in its chest. Thorns wrapped around its arms, like it was entangled in them. Above its head, tied to the string it hung from, was a piece of bone. The idol was made of straw; from its coloration he guessed it must have been put up recently. Ben had seen similar humanoid shapes before, but never like this. Thorns and a missing heart suggested captivity of some kind, perhaps loss of free will. The bone he couldn’t quite place, not knowing what creature it belonged to. And why were its eyes glowing? Whatever spell this idol was used for appeared to be active. Was a human present here? Would it be used to detect them?

A cold shiver ran down his spine as he wondered whether the idol was for him. That wouldn’t be possible, would it? Thorns, missing heart. No – they had no way of knowing he was here. It was a pitiful reward compared to what it had cost him, but he could safely walk amongst them –

Missing heart.

He peered at the glowing eyes again, two red embers inside of their straw casing. A puppet, he realised. Their puppet.

Not wanting to look at it any longer, he put the binoculars down, but still felt burning eyes on him. A glance at the wolf told him it was not the culprit, as it had given in and turned away to watch the Nexus. A furtive glance around the forest taught him nothing: if anyone was out there, they were well-hidden. Still, the gaze of unknown origin was almost tangible. Curse this place, he thought, focusing his attention back on the ritual.

The crelor’s movements had slowed down, focusing more closely on the section of trunk in front of it. To Ben’s surprise the bark had split open, showing a vertical strip of the lighter wood inside. Little currents of light travelled through it, from roots to leaves, reminding Ben of the way data travelled through cables in science-fiction movies. He supposed the comparison wasn’t far off; the energy ran through most of the forest, connecting everything, with the Nexus at its centre. The crelor had its hands on either side of the tear, and slowly but surely it became wider. He wondered what it was doing; it’s purpose was to heal, and this didn’t seem like healing to him. Perhaps the sickness was located inside of the Nexus?

The wolf glanced back at him for a moment, as if to check whether he was still there. But Ben knew very well that if he had tried to leave, it would know. When their eyes met briefly, the wolf looked away.

“Do you know what’s going on?” Ben asked it.

No reply.

“I guess not…” he mumbled.

He wasn’t sure what he was trying to achieve by talking to it – it wasn’t like it was going to answer – but it felt nice to share his thoughts with another being, even if it wasn’t a human being. He’d spent a lot of time on his own after leaving here so many years ago, only seeking out the local hunters in whatever area he would find himself – and after his incident with the Fae, not even that.

And then he’d met Janna, and everything had changed. They’d run into each other – quite literally – at a portal somewhere in the Black Forest, she while doing research, he while tracking a creature. He’d told her to go home, but she – stubborn as she was – had stayed, taking notes on the habitat of a plant – or something like that; he’d drowned out her babbling pretty quickly. He didn’t have time for chit-chat while he was scanning the area, or while he was driving a blade through the creature’s heart when it eventually showed up at the clearing. Only when they were no longer in mortal danger he’d really paid attention to her. They’d had the opportunity to talk, discovering that perhaps their interests were more aligned than thought at first. A partnership was born: he provided her with all of his gathered knowledge, collected new data inside the Fae world, and accompanied her when she herself were to enter – although it usually took a lot of arguing before he allowed her to go. In return, she had pulled him back from a ledge he hadn’t even been aware he’d been teetering on, allowing him to focus on something other than hatred, shame, or revenge for the first time in a long time. She’d saved his life – and stolen his heart in the process.

She had shown him that there could be beauty in the things he’d sworn to destroy. Until then, he’d only focused his research on the dangers, and how to most effectively take care of them. With her insight he’d realised that there was more to the Fae world than that: it was a complicated ecosystem with interconnected elements, which in turn influenced its Earth counterpart. When the Fae acted out, it wasn’t always simply because they were evil to the core (although he hadn’t yet given up on this belief): sometimes they’d been provoked, their home threatened. It was a fact that more humans disappeared in areas where the Fae felt marginalised; knowing their wants and needs could help in managing the damage they inflicted.

This approach felt like it went against his very nature; his gut telling him to take care of them, to destroy them so no one could be tricked by them ever again, while his head told him that provoking them would only cause them to lash out more, and cause more victims in the end. Victims that would be on his conscience. Did he really want to add onto that list? Wouldn’t that be exactly what they wanted?

A slight tremor in the earth pulled his focus back to his surroundings. An earthquake? In this area it would be a possibility, he knew. But this one seemed to be Fae in nature; a side effect of the ritual. The crack in the Nexus’ trunk had widened enough for someone to step through, and to Ben’s surprise that was exactly what was happening. The crelor had moved up closer, pressing itself against the interior, causing the streaks of light to shine brighter. Their pattern changed: instead of travelling upwards, the energy now seemed to flow from the crelor into the tree. It moved further forwards still, even though there was no more space for it to go – yet it appeared to make progress.

Ben took out his binoculars once more, confirming what he thought he was seeing: the crelor’s body was disappearing. Its arms, which it had been using to push forward, had vanished from sight up to its elbows, like it was stepping through a portal. But even from back here, Ben could tell that it wasn’t easy, as the surface didn’t exactly give way – it was still wood after all, magical or not.

Another tremor shook the earth and rustled the leaves around him. The gathered fairies now exchanged glances, but none of them spoke, observing the ritual in silence. It was subtle, but it was clear there was some kind of unrest amongst them. Was something not going according to plan? Or were they simply unfamiliar with the ritual, just like Ben? If he’d interpreted the situation correctly, this wasn’t something many of them would have seen performed before. He doubted any of them had even seen a crelor before. Would they be looking on in wonder, watching it for the first time?

He thought back to his encounter with Chris, a couple of weeks earlier, and the expression on his face when they’d observed it together. The young hunter had left an impression on him – despite his dependence on tech. Kids like him were the future of hunting, whether he liked it or not. Things could be worse: he could have been a fanatic. If one of them would have found the crelor, Ben wasn’t sure what he would have done. He couldn’t possibly choose the supernatural over a fellow hunter – or could he?

Involuntarily, he thought of Jack – another one of his infamous bad choices. He’d been turning their meeting over and over in his head, not being able to let go of it – and if he did for a moment, his broken nose would make sure to remind him of it. He couldn’t believe his son had changed so much. Sure, he’d seen his pictures come by every now and then, but to have him standing in front of him, in the flesh, was a feeling nothing could have prepared him for. He’d been thinking of things to say, rehearsing possible conversations in his mind, but he hadn’t been able to recall any of them in the moment. To be fair: he had been ambushed (he still hadn’t been able to figure out how Jack had managed to find him there), but he wasn’t sure if things would have gone any better had Ben picked the time and place himself.

What haunted him most – apart from the fact that everything Jack had said about him had been spot on – was that he’d been afraid. He’d looked his son in the eyes and had seen only hatred. He’d recognised the glowing embers of a Natural’s rage, so familiar to him from his brother, his mother, all of the Naturals he’d hunted… The energy had been tangible, like the electricity in the air during a thunderstorm, making the hairs on his arms stand on end. A thought had made its way to the surface: I’m not sure if I’ll make it out alive. He had looked at Jack and not recognised the boy he had raised – but he supposed the man in front of him was still the result of Ben’s actions. Or inactions, more accurately.

He’d been surprised by Jack’s strength, and his control over his abilities. Ben was certain that what he’d seen was but a fraction of the power his son had at his disposal. If he stayed around this area he would find out in time, he presumed. He just wasn’t sure whether he wanted to – actually, scratch that: he was fairly sure he didn’t. After all, he’d be at the receiving end of it, unless through some miracle they’d ever make up. And he didn’t see that happening anytime soon. He’d only spoken to Jack and Simone so far, but he was fairly certain none of his family wanted to see him. He wondered how much they knew of the situation, the real reason he’d left. Simone had seemed clueless. What about Christine and Tony? Would Jack have told them? Would they be Naturals as well? If they were, they sure as hell weren’t going to tell him.

Another tremor. Enough of the crelor’s body had been absorbed now, that whatever remained was not immediately identifiable as such. On the remaining part of its back the branches were still wreathed in light, but the flowers’ golden glow was dimming, their petals starting to droop. The “gateway” through the bark appeared to be closing, the dark exterior moving back to cover the vulnerable inner wood. It enveloped the crelor's form, its silhouette outlined by a band of light that grew slimmer and slimmer until the two sides touched and merged together. The flower petals withered; small embers of a dying fire drifting towards the ground, where they extinguished. The leaves traded their luminous gold for that of autumn, before a gust of wind shook them loose, spreading them in the vicinity. For a moment it was quiet, the gathered fairies all collectively holding a breath, unconsciously joined by Ben. He was not prepared for what followed.

A cacophony of sounds came pouring in from all directions, as if the forest had come alive all at once: birds shrieked, chirped and hooted, accompanied by the cries of small rodents and calls of what Ben assumed must be deer. But that was far from all. Many of the roars, growls and high-pitched shrieks he couldn’t place – he only knew he’d heard some of them before on hunts, and they did not belong to regular animals. In the distance a wolf howled, and Ben almost jumped when his guardian answered in kind. The Fae joined in with what he could best describe as a war cry, the ones in the trees jumping down from their perches and clasping each other’s arms.

A buzz of conversation replaced nature’s cacophony. Many of the fairies tried to get closer to the Nexus – without much avail since the light-bearers kept everyone at bay, their lanterns the only reminder of what had just taken place. If he hadn’t known, Ben would not be able to tell anything about the Nexus had changed. The shape of its trunk had changed minimally, sporting a slight bulge on the side he was viewing, but nothing that hinted at the crelor or the scar that had split its bark open only moments ago. He still wasn’t sure of the meaning of the ritual, or its goal – but whatever it was, the Fae seemed to believe it had been successful and were setting out to celebrate.

The wolf growled, having gotten up from its spot, moving about restlessly.

“You’re saying that’s my cue, huh? I think I agree.”

He picked up his gear and slowly got up from his perch, cursing his stiff knees. He wasn’t getting any younger.

“Will you allow me to leave?” he asked the wolf, which was observing his movement with a wary eye.

It stopped its nervous pacing to look him straight in the eye, holding his gaze for a moment. Ben suddenly felt vaguely threatened, although he couldn’t quite discern why. It was as if it was considering whether to let him go at this very moment – and it seemed conflicted about it. Had it received orders regarding him? Against any trespassers?

An intense moment followed, during which neither of them dared to move a muscle. Ben knew that trying to leave before having received permission would equal a death sentence, no matter the wolf’s final decision: making an unexpected move would cause it to react in kind. In the distance, the crunch of leaves indicated a figure heading in their direction; the wolf noticing it just a little before Ben did. Not breaking eye contact, it lay down on the ground, letting out a small whine.

Ben nodded gratefully, and slowly started to back away. As he turned his back to the wolf, determining where to head now while staying out of sight, part of him expected it to act up and jump him, or draw the attention of the Fae with loud barks. When no sound came he glanced over his shoulder, but only saw an empty stretch of forest where the wolf had been. Still, he knew the Fae would not be far off, and were very likely to be heading in his direction.

His mind still grappling to understand the night’s happenings, he hurried home as fast as his feet would carry him.

  *

It took a moment for Jack to find himself again, to pull together the shreds of his consciousness that seemed to be floating off in every direction. He felt sore all over – no, more than that, like his body had been ripped to pieces and shoddily put back together again. A sound escaped his throat, he was unsure whether it had been human or wolf. Smells of the forest surrounded him – the familiar earthy scent of wet dirt and rotting leaves filling his nostrils. And his mouth. And his eyes.

He pushed himself up, coughing and spluttering, from where he had been face-down in the dirt. Immediately a wave of nausea rushed over him and he sank down again, rolling onto his side with a groan. He vaguely registered a blanket being placed over him and he decided to close his eyes for just another minute.

When he sat up again, his muscles appeared to have settled down a little, their protesting reduced to a dull ache he would probably be feeling for a while. Pulling the blanket closer around him, he noticed he was more human than he’d been before: no fur, no claws, no tail. He realised he felt strangely naked without them. Not only because he was, in fact, naked; but like some piece of him was missing.

“Here you go.”

The Root appeared next to him, offering him a steaming clay mug, which he hesitantly took.

“What is this?”

“Tea,” they smiled.

“…What’s in it?” he asked, carefully sniffing it.

They rolled their eyes.

“Honey. It’s funny: your friend asked the same thing.”

Jack turned in the direction they indicated, seeing a very uncomfortable Chris, holding his own mug with shaking hands. It didn’t seem like he’d drank anything.

“Chris!” he exclaimed, then immediately clasped a hand over his mouth – curse his impulsiveness.

“Don’t worry,” the Root smiled, clearly finding this whole thing amusing. “Names don’t hold nearly as much power as you people make it out to be. And your friend already so generously supplied me with yours.”

Chris said nothing and stared at the ground, probably quietly cursing himself for having let the name slip. It was obvious he did not feel very positive about having to spend time in the Root’s private quarters. Still, he probably found it much more preferable than waiting outside, away from Jack and in full view of the rest of the Fae.

“Are you alright?” Jack asked, observing him.

He faintly nodded, his face pale.

“I just wanna get out of here,” he whispered.

“I’ll get you home,” Jack reassured him. He cast the Root a glance, thinking back to their earlier agreement. “…I will, right?”

They showed him another of their mysterious smiles.

“I’d say your chances are about fifty-fifty.”

Chris almost dropped his tea.

“What?!”

“I like this one,” they grinned. “So easily distressed. One has to find pleasure in the little things, when the big prize is out of reach.”

“That’s Fae speak for ‘I think I’ll let you go, since me and Jack are such good friends’,” Jack translated to Chris, adding in a wink.

The look Chris gave him in return very clearly read how can you joke at a time like this? The Root’s face read I can’t believe you still think we are friends.

Carefully, Jack took a sip of tea, letting its warmth flow through him.

“I’m guessing you don’t have anything stronger?” he grimaced while rolling his shoulders, which resulted in a weird crunching noise.

“I thought you didn’t want anything in your tea?” the Root said innocuously.

They stood up.

“Hold tight, I’ve got just the thing.”

“What are you doing?” Chris whispered while they were busy rummaging in a corner. “We have to get out of here! Also, how do you know that stuff won’t turn you into a frog, or something?”

Jack scooted closer, ignoring the pain flaring in his body, and took Chris’ hand in his own – it felt clammy.

“Relax – they just changed me back.”

He ignored Chris’ pointed look – there would be a barrage of questions later, he knew.

“They didn’t have to do that; they could have just left me that way – I honestly expected them to. And we will get out of here – as soon as I can actually stand. Give me a moment.”

Chris’ face told him he hadn’t considered that.

“It still hurts?” he asked, then leaned in. “…Are you alright? Did they mess with you?”

“I’m fine,” Jack waved him away. “Just a little sore, is all. Little dizzy.”

“Dizzy” wasn’t entirely accurate. “Disoriented”, perhaps. Or “like the world got turned upside down”. Yes, that’s exactly what tonight had felt like. Earlier, when they’d gone out to find the Nexus, he’d seen the Fae world upside down in the reflection of the pond – now it was him that was upside down, looking at his life from a new perspective.

After the ritual had been completed and Ben had left, he’d wanted to make his way back to Chris, but had found his legs disagreeing with him. He’d been drawn to the Nexus instead, the familiar humming calling out to him, stronger than ever. Passing through a crowd of Fae who barely paid him any mind, he’d stood in front of it, looking up. He’d felt an energy he remembered from his dream: millions of interconnected pathways, flowing through all living things the way rivers flowed towards the sea. Earlier he’d been fighting the current, drowning in it; now he let it take him, carry him towards its destination through calm waters. It had felt like plunging into a cool lake on a hot summer day: first there was a shock as the coldness hit, quickly turning into a feeling of pure bliss as the water enveloped him.

He’d been shaken out of it when the Root, who had been caught up in other business until then, had kneeled down next to him and ruffled his fur.

“Good boy,” they’d whispered, sporting that familiar grin. “The Nexus has accepted you.”

Jack had tilted his head.

“…There was a chance it wouldn’t?”

“Occasionally it decides to take people instead. Means they can’t be trusted. For you, I estimated that chance to be …above average, considering your history.”

“But it called me its child, earlier.”

“Many animals eat their young,” the Root had shrugged. “But we can discuss this later. Now, let’s go find that friend of yours, before someone else decides they could use some entertainment.”

Jack had run a few paces to catch up with them, determined to have this conversation out of Chris’ earshot.

“Speaking of my friend…”

 He still held onto Chris’ hand when the Root returned and sprinkled something into his tea.

“There you go.”

Jack looked at them expectantly, but they didn’t elaborate.

“Are you going to make me ask?”

“It’ll numb the pain and give you some energy,” they sighed. “Honestly, I feel very little trust here, especially from someone who refers to me as his friend…”

“It’s not distrust, I’m just curious,” Jack shrugged. “Also: how can we be friends if I don’t even know your name?”

They sat down, crossing their spindly legs. Dark vines snaked across them, then dug into the earth below them like roots.

“It’s Melli.”

They leaned forward, pointing a finger at him.

“This does not mean we are friends.”

“If you say so, Melli.”

They narrowed their eyes, probably regretting this decision already. Jack met their gaze, taking a triumphant sip of his tea. It tasted a little more bitter than before.

“The Nexus… is it healed completely now?” Chris asked, his voice still a little unsteady.

It was the first time he’d addressed the Root directly, Jack realised.

“It’ll need some time to fully absorb the crelor’s nutrients, but it has done a great job at restoring what it could. Crelors truly are masterful healers.”

“Too bad they have to travel so far to do it,” Jack observed. “Did humans drive them away?”

“It’s true they aren’t very keen on humans,” Melli shrugged. “But there weren’t many of them to begin with, back in the day. The terrain around here is a little too wet to their liking.”

“The Nexus must have a strong pull to make them come all this way, then.”

“Oh yes,” – Melli flashed their typical grin – “as you will find out in time.”

Jack felt a little nervous at the way they’d said it, or the implications made. It was true that he felt the Nexus’ pull, the subtle buzzing in the back of his mind – but right now he was only a stone’s throw away from it. He couldn’t imagine it calling him all the way across country borders – let alone the way he would react if it would. Would they really be able to reach him, no matter where he was? And would he be able to resist or be forced to answer?

He wasn’t sure what this new arrangement would have in store, but it was clear that Melli intended to call on him when needed. The wording had been a little too vague to his liking, but he hadn’t thought he could afford to be picky when they’d discussed it earlier. He was well aware that the price of a human soul was a steep one, especially that of a hunter. And however much he wanted to keep this to himself, he knew that Chris wasn’t an idiot. It wouldn’t take long before he caught on – but Jack really hoped he would at least keep his mouth shut until they were clear of this place. The sooner they were out of here, the better.

He cleared his throat, feeling a little awkward as he looked at Chris.

“Do you, uh, still have my clothes?”

Chris’ eyes flicked down for just a split second before focusing on his face again.

“…Right!” he stumbled, a little flustered. “I’ve got them right here.”

He tossed a bundle in Jack’s direction.

There was nowhere to retreat for privacy, so Jack simply started putting on his clothes where he sat. Both of them would have had plenty of opportunity to see him naked by now – Chris especially – and he didn’t think Melli would even care. From what he’d seen, the Fae seemed to wear clothing mostly for decoration, not modesty. Melli was wearing nothing under their ceremonial mantle – unless vines counted.

Once dressed, Jack patted his pockets, then remembered he’d left his phone in the car since it would be useless here anyway. His cigarettes and car keys were accounted for, along with some odds and ends…

“Looking for something?” Melli smiled.

They’ve taken something, he thought. But how? Chris had held onto his things this entire time. While he racked his brain trying to figure out what it could be – a challenge without his powers – they held up a small bundle of twigs.

“My sticks!”

They arched an eyebrow.

“Yes, your …sticks. You won’t be needing those anymore.”

“How did you get those? Also: what?”

They observed him like he were a child asking too many questions.

“These,” they explained, holding the bundle between two long fingers,” are a human’s pathetic attempt at replicating a connection to the Nexus. It will fool a portal, but you’re basically announcing your arrival to every fairy in the vicinity. We don’t tell that to the humans, of course – it’s only polite to ring the doorbell when visiting.”

They used their free hand to gesture at Jack, who felt his piercing tug at his ear as if they’d pulled on it.

“You already have your own connection now – a real connection. It will still alert us to your arrival, but at least we won’t think you’re dinner.”

“Dinner?” Chris repeated with a tiny voice.

Melli’s smile broadened into a grin.

“Don’t worry, I’m not hungry right now.”

Jack knew that wasn’t entirely true, and it was definitely not the reason they hadn’t made a move on Chris, but he kept his mouth shut.

The Root returned their focus to Jack, still grinning.

“I should warn you: this time was an exception – bring a human again and we’ll assume you’re the delivery guy.”

“Noted.”

“What about B– …the hunter?” Chris asked, having found some of his courage again. “He had plenty of rowan on him, yet went undetected.”

“I don’t know,” they confessed. “For most humans, we can detect their energy and learn things about them. For you, for example, we can sense our blood on your hands.”

Their gaze lingered on Chris for a moment. He did not avert his eyes, but Jack noticed his knuckles whitening around the hilt of the blade he was holding, out of their sight.

“For the hunter,” they continued, in the same airy tone, “ – the other hunter – I can’t detect anything at all. It’s like he doesn’t exist.”

“Vanishing’s kind of his specialty,” Jack mumbled, earning him a curious look from Melli.

“It would be nice if we could make him vanish for good,” they suggested.

“Well, step one – removing the crelor from the equation – is done. Now we’ll have to see how to continue from there.”

Melli seemed doubtful, picking at a loose thread on the hem of their mantle.

“You still believe he will simply move on, now that his object of focus is gone?”

“Honestly? I have no idea. All I know is that we can’t assume any of his decisions will be rational ones. Judging by the ones he’s made so far…”

They looked up at him with calculating eyes, but said nothing. And perhaps they didn’t need to – since tonight, Jack felt like they could see right through him. Nexus, you little snitch, he thought while avoiding their gaze, knowing it wouldn’t matter. The Root was very well aware of the fact that there was more to his relation towards the hunter than he let on.

“We will discuss this another time,” they decided, to Jack’s relief. “I have work to do, people to instruct. An initiation to prepare for. You need to go home and rest.”

Their demeanour had changed, Jack noticed. They were sitting up more straight, their tone matter-of-factly, like they were trying to distance themselves from these humans. It led him to believe that “The Root” was merely a persona, a performance they put up for the outside world. Melli could claim they weren’t friends as much as they wanted; the fact that they’d dropped that façade around him – multiple times now – still remained.

“Sounds like a great idea,” he agreed.

Jack rolled his shoulders, trying to pop them back into place. His joints were still acting a little funky, but he thought he’d be alright. The tea had surely given him the boost Melli had promised. It was probably best to let Chris drive, though, in case he’d crash.

“We’ll let you know when we have news on the hunter,” he said while preparing to get up – although his body seemed to disagree.

Melli answered with a single nod, having slipped back into their Root persona.

“And I will call on you when the time comes.”

Chris, already on his feet, eager to get out of here, cast him a questioning glance before stepping in to help him up. It would be easy enough to play it off with a lie, claim it simply had to do with his father – but he knew he should be telling Chris the truth, like he promised. Technically, he’d promised to “no longer do stupid, impulsive things” – it was a little late for that, he feared. The truth was the next best thing, right?

His entire body protested when Chris took his hands and pulled him upright, and Jack had to blink for a moment to remove the stars from his vision. Leaning heavily on his partner, he nodded back at the Root, who had now also gotten up. They strode outside, head held high, followed by Jack and Chris, who looked less graceful.

They are not to be harmed, Jack heard, in the strange tongue he could understand but also not. It hadn’t been spoken aloud, but pushed into his head in the way they had communicated through the portal. He realised the message hadn’t been for him, but about him.

Chris gasped and squeezed his hand, and only now Jack became aware of the fairies around them. They hadn’t been surrounded in any sense; they were keeping their distance, but Jack could feel their eyes on him as they moved in the direction of the portal – slowly; gingerly. Chris squeezed his hand as hard as he could – Jack wanted to do the same but was afraid he might break his boyfriend’s fingers.

They’d long left the fairies’ presence by the time they’d arrived at the portal, but neither of them dared to speak, scared of their ears, their eyes, their vines. Jack helped Chris through, like on the way in, then clambered up the tree with the last of his strength. This time, the both of them dropped like sacks of potatoes on the other end of the ride, remaining on the ground for a couple of minutes, trying to process the night’s events. Eventually, Chris was the one to speak up first.

“What. The. Fuck. Was that?”

“I second that,” Jack groaned, pushing himself off of the ground.

Back in his own world, he could feel the familiar glow of his magic returning to him, the whispers in his head eager to catch him up on what he’d missed. But the buzzing still remained, like a tiny insect flying around in the back of his mind.

“Let’s get going,” Chris said, offering Jack a hand once more.

On their way to the car, Jack glanced up at the sky. Even though it would still be a week before the full moon, he could feel it – in his jaw; his lower back. The wolf still felt as close under his skin as it had been on the other side. It didn’t come to the surface, patiently waiting its turn – but its moment would come, and Jack wasn’t sure if he would be the one to choose it.

For a while now, Jack hadn’t been able to look at him. When he’d just gotten back he’d taken Chris’ hands and assured him he was alright, but he must have recognised the fear in his eyes, since he’d let go and not touched him again. Chris hadn’t meant to pull away – he really didn’t. But something about the look in Jack’s eyes, the way he moved, had felt deeply wrong. His every move felt calculated, like a hunter stalking its prey. His ears twitched and moved, like they did when he was a wolf, listening for sounds in the distance. While relating his story, he sat with his hands balled into fists, leaving Chris to wonder whether he would be hurting himself with his claws. But the longer he kept talking, the more relaxed his pose became, as if the mere fact that Chris hadn’t murdered him yet put him at ease.

Don’t put your guard down yet, we’re not done here.

When the obvious question – why he looked like that – had been explained, Chris sat through his report on the Fae, the crelor, the Nexus, only being able to retain about a third of what was said – yes, this was all good and important information to have, but was it worth risking his life over? He stayed quiet until a good while after. Jack didn’t push him, and instead focused on the task at hand.

Finally, Chris dared to ask the question.

Jack looked up from his transformation attempts.

“I’m fine,” he grinned. “It went about as well as it could have gone – perhaps better.”

Chris sucked in a breath, considering how to phrase his reply.

“I know it was stupid,” Jack beat him to it. “It was reckless and risky and it could have ended completely differently.”

He looked away again.

“I’m sorry.”

Something in Chris snapped.

“You’re sorry? You’re sorry!? That’s the best you can do? We’ve talked about this! You can’t just run off on a whim, doing whatever pops into your mind, without even saying a word! Did it even occur to you that you might not be coming back? That I wouldn’t have a clue where to even start looking if that were the case? I – ”

His voice broke, and he took a moment to recollect himself.

“There’s just so much going on at any given moment; I feel like we can never catch a break. You might be used to it by now, but – I don’t know if I can do this. Not without you. I can’t – ”

He was interrupted by two hairy arms pulling him in and squeezing him a little too tight. Chris tensed up instinctively – alarmed at the speed at which he’d come in – then tried to relax, scared to antagonise Jack in this state. He did not feel like cuddling at all, his instincts screaming at him to get away, to fight back – besides, did he really think a hug would make everything alright again? Then again, Chris wouldn’t put it past him.

“I know there’s nothing I can say to make things better right now,” Jack started. “I messed up. You’re right: I wasn’t thinking. I seem to be having that problem a lot lately. I just… want him to go away, you know? It’s a problem my head doesn’t know how to deal with – that I don’t know how to deal with. And no one else seemed to be able to help either, and I just… didn’t know what else to do anymore. It all seemed to revolve around the Fae world, so going there seemed like a logical step. He goes there all the time; you went there and you were just fine – I guess I just… forgot about the risk for a moment.”

Chris stayed quiet for a while, not sure what to say.

“Aaand I should have just talked to you,” Jack added guiltily, as if he’d only thought of that possibility just now.

“You know,” Chris started, his voice muffled from being squeezed against his chest. “For a guy with access to this much knowledge, you sure are stupid.”

Jack laughed, releasing him.

“Once again proves that wisdom and intelligence are two different stats.”

“Nerd.”

“Dork.”

Their faces this close together, Chris took another moment to study his boyfriend’s new form. The shape of his face was more human than wolf, but his jawline had changed, although it was hard to tell under the beard – or fur? He wasn’t sure what to call it. It was thickest on his jaw and neck, but the rest of his face was definitely also covered with a shorter, softer kind of hair. His nose was a little flatter than usual – Chris had to resist the urge to boop it. The shape of his eyes had changed slightly, the skin around them dark, like he was wearing eyeliner. And then of course there were the ears, all furry and pointy, new piercing dangling from one of them.

Jack averted his gaze, probably embarrassed that Chris had to see him like this. All it did was allow him a different angle – his jaw was definitely more prominent, like the hint of a muzzle starting to form. His teeth were sharper than usual, he learned after a quick inspection, which was answered by a growl as Jack batted his hand away.

“Stop it.”

“I could get used to this,” Chris decided with a shrug. “Not sure about the rest of the world, though.”

“I’m working on it,” Jack growled. “I’ve never had to do this without the moon before.”

Chris took a step back, observing him.

“Well, I’m no expert, but you should probably relax. Try to – oh my god, how did I miss the tail before?”

“Hmm, yeah, very helpful,” Jack grinned.

“Sorry, I’ve just never seen you like this – is this what you usually look like while changing?”

“Hah, I wish! I’ve never been this handsome before.”

His grin faded and he averted his eyes.

“You don’t want to see the usual process, believe me.”

“I should probably leave you to it, then.”

Chris turned to leave, but Jack took hold of his arm – gently, this time.

“No, stay. It’s nice to have someone human around. Keeps me grounded.”

He let go, an apologetic look on his face.

“Unless you don’t want to, of course. You’re still mad at me.”

Chris observed him for a moment. He was right – he was still mad. But sitting alone and moping about it wasn’t going to do either of them any good. Besides: that would never get him to talk.

He forced himself to smile, then shoved Jack playfully.

“No, I think you’re an idiot who lacks a brain – there’s a distinction.”

He cupped Jack’s face with his hand, caressing the fur on his cheek.

“How about I stay, and you talk to me for once, hm?”

 *

“Are you sure this is the right way?” Chris sounded from a ways behind him.

Perhaps he should slow down a bit, Jack realised.

“For the hundredth time: I have no idea. My guess might be slightly better than yours, but it’s still a guess.”

They’d been wandering the area for hours, hoping he would pick up on something – anything, really. His connection to the Nexus, although new, had felt so natural back in the Fae world, but here? He might as well be out looking for the end of the rainbow – it certainly felt just about as doable.

They’d chosen this location based off of the crelor’s trajectory, specified to any forests, parks or natural areas that were in this approximate direction. Jack figured that as soon as they’d be close enough he’d be able to tell, that it would give him a sign somehow. After all, the Root had indicated that he’d be able to find it by himself, hadn’t they?

He sighed and leaned against a tree, waiting for Chris to catch up.

“Your head being of any use?”

Jack shrugged.

“Perhaps it would be, but I want to try without using it for now. The Root said I depended on it too much.”

Chris plopped down on the ground next to him, pulling a water bottle from his backpack.

“Might be, but don’t you think that sounds like exactly the thing a fairy would say? The Fae love getting inside your head: they can’t be trusted.”

“They were right, though. I do depend on my magic too much. I was doing poorly in there until they pointed it out.”

“Yeah, and then you turned into a hybrid wolf-thing. Such an improvement.”

Chris took a sip and offered him the bottle.

“You should have seen me before that,” Jack pointed out, taking it. “The stuff of nightmares, believe me.”

Involuntarily, he did a quick scan of his body, checking whether everything was still as it should be. He’d been himself again when he’d woken up the next morning, and it hadn’t returned after that night, but the feeling in his bones had remained. Something had changed, and he had a gut feeling it was here to stay.

“Hmm…”

Chris stared off into the distance before turning back to Jack.

“Sure, let’s say the Root was simply trying to help you be your best self, or whatever. Doesn’t take away the fact that it’s mighty convenient for them when you aren’t using your powers to – let’s say – figure out all of their secrets.”

“I don’t think the location of the Nexus counts as a secret when they actively encouraged me to go look for it.”

Chris got up from the ground, brushing the dirt off of his clothes.

“Not the kind of secrets I meant – but still: what is stopping you from using your head to find it except their words?”

“I am.”

Jack handed the bottle back to him.

“Look, I’m not that stupid; I know they’re trying to manipulate me. It’s not like I’m swearing off magic forever, I just thought it would be interesting to try. It’s not as if my head has been useful every time either…”

“You may have a point there,” Chris grinned.

“Plus, it would mean fewer headaches.”

“I thought those just happened, whether you used it or not.”

“They do. But if I can somehow master this – ” Jack curled his fingers to mimic claws “ – I’ll be able to shut them down whenever I want. Can’t use my powers as a wolf – or wolf-ish.”

“Aaaand we’ve circled straight back to the part I don’t like about all of this.”

Jack gave him a puzzled look.

“I thought you said you could get used to it?”

Chris shrugged, putting his backpack back on.

“I just meant you didn’t look horrible. Not that you should purposefully push yourself in that direction.”

Jack took Chris’ hands in his own.

“I’ll be careful,” he promised. “Changing like that, it scares me too. That night, I was terrified of being like that forever. I won’t be trying anything like that for a while, not while I don’t know how to come back from it.”

He looked at the path ahead of them, branches above it swaying in the wind.

“I just have a feeling that finding the Nexus might help, although I’m not sure in which way. I can’t explain it, but I heard it call to me when I was in the Fae world.”

“Not terrifying at all,” Chris said dryly. “But alright. I’ll help you find it.”

“You’re only deciding that now? Bit late, don’t you think?” Jack grinned, gesturing at the forest surrounding them.

Chris shrugged.

“So far, all I’ve done is follow you around. And no offence – but I think you have no idea where you’re going.”

Jack raised an eyebrow.

“And you do?”

“No,” Chris admitted. “But to me it looks like you’re still depending on your usual tactics, even when leaving out the magical part. You’re just walking around, hoping to stumble across something.”

“And you would have a better idea?”

This could be interesting – he usually left anything magical for Jack to deal with.

“Well…”

Chris seemed less sure now that the attention was on him.

“Everything in the Fae world is connected, right? What if that extends to the trees on this side? If it’s true what you say, and you really do have a connection to the Nexus, you should be able to feel it, right?”

“Why do you think we’re out here?” Jack asked. “That’s what I’ve been trying to pick up on this entire time.”

“Well, to me it looks like you’re just walking around aimlessly. Have you even touched a single tree?”

“I’m not sure tree-hugging is going to be the solution here.”

Chris folded his arms.

“Have you even tried?”

“As a matter of fact: I have,” Jack replied, mimicking his pose. “The morning after I turned back. I went up to a tree, put my hand against it and waited – it was just a tree.”

“A tree in the middle of town?”

“Yes, right in front of my h– …oh.”

Chris gave him a smug look.

“Ah yes, the Fae who are known for hanging out in populated areas with lots of metal and whatnot. No idea why you wouldn’t be able to detect them.”

“Don’t act like you’re the expert, all of a sudden,” Jack protested.

“I’m not. Both of us are a little out of our depth here. All the more reason to figure this out together.”

Jack walked up to a tree, put his hand against it, and waited.

“Still just a tree,” he shrugged after a minute. “I don’t feel anything.”

This earned him a raised eyebrow from Chris, who was leaning against another tree, observing him with crossed arms.

“That’s it? You do realise that usually the answers don’t just come to you? Us regular people have to put in the work.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Jack shrugged. “Besides, I don’t think we’re in the right place anyway.”

“How can you tell?”

Jack wasn’t entirely sure himself. Had it been his head, butting in even though he’d specifically asked it not to? Had it been something Fae related?

“Gut feeling,” he decided, and kept walking.

 The tree they were standing in front of looked impressive, with its broad trunk and sheltering branches – clearly the oldest one around the area. It had stood out to him as they were walking past, so Jack figured he should listen to his gut feeling once more.

“Alright, let’s try this again,” Jack sighed.

He stepped up, placed both hands against it and closed his eyes. He took deep breaths while listening to the wind rustling the leaves, feeling the rough bark under his fingers. He thought back to his training at the Society: empty your mind and let the energy come to you. He had to admit, emptying his mind had never been his strong suit – he hated meditation with a fiery passion. He didn’t even need his special power to distract him: ADHD would take care of that just fine – see? There it went again. He shook his head, trying to regain focus.

You can do this. Trust your instincts.

Since emptying his mind didn’t seem to work, he instead pictured himself as a wolf, running through the forest at full speed. The wind in his fur, the rhythm of his footfalls, the scents of nearby creatures mixing with the smell of rotting leaves. Whenever he was running he could let the world fall away, ducking under branches and leaping over puddles which reflected the full moon’s silvery light. The forest stretched out before him endlessly – inviting, beckoning. The rustle of the wind became louder, the sound seeming to surround him until it came from every side, and with it a deep rumble, rising and falling as if the entire forest breathed as one. It reverberated in his chest, enveloping him, welcoming. It was a strange feeling, as if he was but an insignificant part of a greater whole. At the same time he felt like an outsider encroaching on some place he didn’t belong.

All those who share my blood are welcome to sit in my shadow. All those who bear my mark will heed my call. Find me, child – in your heart, you know the way.

Jack opened his eyes with a gasp, wanting to pull his hands away from the tree, but realised he was no longer facing it. He was standing on the edge of a clearing filled with wildflowers. A beam of sunlight illuminated a small pond at its centre. Glancing around him, he found Chris, a few paces away and watching him like a hawk. His hand was closed around a dagger, knuckles white from gripping it too tight.

“Oh, thank god. For a moment there I was scared you were gonna take a swim.”

“Wha – where are we?”

“I should ask you,” Chris shrugged, relaxing his grip but not putting the dagger away just yet. “You just decided to go for a little walk, didn’t respond to anything I said. Figured I should just leave you be, but fuck, was it hard. You were like a zombie – minus the groaning and stumbling.”

“I – ”

Jack had no memory of getting here at all. He had no explanation and wasn’t sure what else to say, and instead scanned the clearing, then the surrounding woods for signs of life. Where had that voice come from?

“So, this is it, then?” Chris asked. “I thought it would be… you know, a tree.”

“On the Fae side it’s a tree. Perhaps here it’s something else – I can imagine they don’t want humans chopping it down. This is definitely it, though. I heard it. It was… inviting me.”

He took a step into the clearing, still feeling the low rumble in his chest. It felt oddly comforting, like a purr.

Chris took hold of his arm.

“Be careful,” he whispered.

“I promise I won’t jump in.”

He moved forward, careful not to step on any flowers. The ground was soft and a little bit marshy, and for a moment he feared he would get his foot stuck in there, but it seemed solid enough to walk on. The vibrations got louder, now spreading through his entire body. They were accompanied by a buzzing sound, like he was standing in a swarm of bees.

The pond looked like any regular pond, the water a little murky with algae, insects drifting lazily above its surface. A frog sounded from somewhere in the grass. It didn’t look very magical, Jack thought, and if it hadn’t been for what he knew, accompanied by the overwhelming noise, he wouldn’t have looked at it twice. But now that he did…

“Come over here, you should see this.”

Chris cast the area separating them a questioning look.

“You think it’s safe? – For me, I mean. Can it tell that I’m near?”

“I’m not sure,” Jack had to admit. “It knows I’m here, that’s for sure. But you have no connection to it – I don’t think it can harm you from this side.”

Chris joined him, taking careful steps, alert for any sudden movement. When he’d joined him at the edge of the water, Jack pointed.

“Look.”

The water surface was perfectly still, and smooth like a mirror. But instead of the clearing, its reflection showed a tree, its trunk so wide Jack estimated it would take five men to encircle it, its branches reaching for a sky obscured from view. Various objects hung from them, held by vines woven into rope, some of them glowing softly. From this distance, he couldn’t quite tell what they were.

“Wow,” Chris whispered, holding onto his arm tightly. “Do you think this is a portal?”

“I don’t know – I wasn’t planning on trying it right now.”

“I wasn’t planning on trying it ever,” Chris shuddered.

“Fair point.”

Slowly, Jack circled the pond, looking for any other things it might reflect. He could see other trees a little farther back, merely blurry outlines from this vantage point. The area surrounding the tree seemed to be a clearing, like on this side, although he could not see what the ground looked like.

He’d almost come full circle and concluded his inspection, when he saw something move. He froze when he spotted a shadow, standing in the upside-down version of the clearing, not far removed from the massive trunk. A tall shadow with antlers and a familiar half-moon grin. The Root. From their connection to the Nexus they must be able to tell he was here, Jack realised. Not knowing what else to do, he awkwardly waved. They nodded in return, an amused look on their face.

I see you’ve brought a friend.

Jack looked over at Chris, who hadn’t moved from his spot and was still staring at the Nexus. He did not appear to have heard, and Jack hesitated whether alerting him of the fairy’s presence would be such a good idea. He appeared on edge – and he was still a hunter, after all.

Only you can hear me, they confirmed his suspicion.

And you can hear me? he thought, as a way of experiment.

That’s right. But only as long as I see you.

Jack shot another glance at Chris, who still seemed unaware of anything happening.

Please don’t harm him.

Their eyes narrowed, and the buzzing in his ears grew a little louder.

As long as he doesn’t give me reason to.

He nodded, grateful for what he considered to be reasonable terms.

How is it holding up? he informed, indicating the Nexus.

It will last until the crelor gets here. It’s expected in two to three days.

That’s good.

They looked away, their body language showing uncertainty.

The hunter worries me still. He cannot disturb the ritual.

We’re keeping an eye on him. We’ll make sure he stays away.

Jack tried to sound reassuring, but wasn’t sure how it would come across, as his mind was anything but calm at the moment. The Nexus’ grip seemed to grow stronger the longer he stayed here. The feeling in his bones became more prominent. The buzzing had grown so loud it made him want to cover his ears. Come to me, it said. Join me. He inched closer to the water.

Not yet, a voice commanded, and the whispers became quiet at once.

Jack took the chance to ask the question that had been on his mind this entire time.

What’s going on? What’s happening to me?

Your connection to the Nexus is growing, but it is still acting irrationally due to its situation. We all feel its pull, but until it is healed we cannot heed it. It’s anguishing, having to deny it.

Not for much longer, Jack reassured them.

They turned their head, looking at something beyond Jack’s view. He noticed they stood up more straight as they did so, as if to keep up appearances.

I am needed elsewhere, they said apologetically, turning back to him. When you return, follow the rabbit trail east until you come across a tree felled by lightning. There you will find a portal that’s less observed, and also a little… dryer.

I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.

They showed him another grin while pointing in the aforementioned direction.

You can bring your friend, but don’t lose sight of him.

Jack wasn’t sure whether that was such a good idea, but he also knew very well that there was no way Chris would ever let him go back in there alone.

“What are you looking at?” a voice sounded next to him.

Jack looked up, startled.

“Oh, it’s just…”

He glanced back at the reflection, but it showed only an empty clearing.

“It’s nothing. Let’s go.”

 *

Creeping vines were reaching for him, then wrapped themselves around his legs. Despite his struggling they started to drag him away, through the tall grass and reeds he couldn’t find purchase on and which only cut his hands. The water was coming closer now, its silvery surface churning like something bigger was hiding underneath. Before he could fight off the vines – or even get a better look – he was dragged under.

It was pitch black all around him as he was sinking deeper and deeper, until he couldn’t tell up from down. He tried to hold his breath, but soon he had to give in and gasp for air. To his surprise, he wasn’t drowning. He was just… floating. Despite the darkness he could sense he wasn’t alone: there was some sort of presence lingering in his mind. He tried to move, but couldn’t, as if his body had ceased to exist and there was only his spirit. Carefully, seeing no other option, he reached out to the presence, which seemed to envelop him completely. Touching it, a searing pain coursed through him, ripping his mind into tiny pieces and scattering them everywhere.

Everything became a blur, moving too fast to interpret other than through short flashes – leaves gently moving in the wind; an owl tucked into the hollow of a tree; a dewdrop rolling down a flower petal before landing in the dirt; the crunch of sticks and dead leaves as a deer picked its way through; insects tunnelling beneath tree roots; energy spreading through millions of interconnected pathways, bridging the gap between organisms, each with their unique tasks, needs, sensations…

Jack startled awake, gasping for air, head spinning with colours, sounds, and smells; his entire body tingly like his limbs had fallen asleep. After reassuring himself that he in fact had a body, it took him a moment to recall where he was – in the car, waiting for the moment everything was going to go down. Chris, in the driver’s seat next to him, looked up from his phone with a concerned look in his eye.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he replied, his voice rough.

He cleared his throat and cast a glance outside. A shiver travelled down his spine.

“It’s starting.”

“You sure?”

Chris peered into the darkness, even though they were parked too far off to really see anything – strangely enough, there were no roads conveniently leading to Fae portals.

Jack held out his arm, which was now covered in fur, sharp claws on his fingers.

“Very.”

Chris simply nodded, got out and grabbed his backpack from the back seat. Jack followed his example. He couldn’t help but feel naked without his magic, usually so comfortably close at his fingertips. Tonight he was armed with his claws, wolf senses, and the strange buzzing feeling that had made a home in his chest ever since his meeting with the Root. He hoped it would be enough.

He hesitated for a moment, then took off his shoes. With things going the way they were going, they would only be in his way. Chris observed him, a bemused eyebrow raised.

“Should I pack you some extra clothes, just in case?”

Jack rolled his eyes.

“I should be fine. I came prepared.”

Going by his previous experience, he’d chosen loose clothing that wouldn’t constrict his movements. And if this was going to be a regular thing, he should probably look into getting some clothes Downtown. They had accommodations for all kinds of… appendages. For now he would just have to make do with the back of his pants being awkwardly pulled down by his tail – another reason to go with something elastic.

“Let’s go,” he gestured, taking off between the trees.

Chris followed suit, armed with his gun and flashlight.

They were fairly certain his father would not come this way. They’d been keeping tabs on him during the last couple of days, tracking his whereabouts. From what they’d learned earlier, Ben wasn’t always right on the crelor’s tail, but instead kept a bit of distance, allowing it to wander before catching up to it again – presumably so he could have some semblance of a life during the downtime. Right now he seemed to be in one of these periods: he’d tracked it up to a portal a little over a day ago and hadn’t been back since, according to Jack’s perimeter spell. A reasonable tactic, considering its speed – a little less reasonable considering the current situation. All of this led Jack to believe that his father genuinely had no idea about the crelor’s purpose here, or about the location of the Nexus.

It would also mean that whatever was going down tonight, they would beat him to it – which was a good thing, since Jack wasn’t exactly sure what they were supposed to be doing. He wasn’t even sure the Fae wanted them there, but the Root had pointed him towards the portal – that must mean something, right? They expected him to deal with his father, but how?

“Are you sure you want to come?” he asked, slowing down a little to walk alongside Chris.

“Are you kidding? No way I’m gonna let you go in there alone!”

“But if something were to happen…”

Chris stopped walking. When Jack looked back over his shoulder, the flashlight was aimed right at his eyes, blinding him.

“You don’t get to do this,” Chris said resolutely. “We’ve talked about this: you’re not the only one who is allowed to take risks. You’re scared something will happen to me? Well, I’m terrified at what they will do to you. What they’ve already done. I’m going in.”

Not accepting any counterarguments, he kept walking, taking the lead from Jack who was still blinking to try and get his vision back.

“Hey, wait up! Do you even know where to – ”

Then he saw it. A tree that had once stood taller than its companions, but had now been left a blackened husk, split down the middle all the way to the ground. Yet it was still standing, its two halves held up as if by magic – and perhaps it was.

Chris let the beam of light pass over its surface.

“You were saying?”

“Looks like we’re here,” Jack admitted.

The buzzing in his chest became more noticeable, like it had changed its frequency. Upon stepping closer it rose further, responding to the portal. It was nestled into the tree itself, a shimmer connecting its two halves like a spider web.

While the crack reached all the way to the ground, it would only widen enough for them to pass through a little ways above their heads, making for a tricky climb.

“Here, I got you.”

Jack folded his hands together, a little platform for Chris to stand on so he could give him a boost.

“What about you?”

Jack showed him a wolfish grin.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be up there in no time.”

“You’d better. Got your rowan?”

Jack nodded.

“Alright then, see you on the other side.”

Chris put his foot onto his hands, and Jack lifted him up, surprised at how easily it went.

This boy weighs nothing, he thought to himself. Or have I gotten stronger?

Chris disappeared from view, and he could only hope the other side would have a softer landing. He took a few paces back, a running start, and leapt towards the tree as high as he could get, his claws digging in to find purchase.

So far, so good.

Not wanting to end up wedged between the trunk’s halves he scrambled up a little further. He almost dropped when one of his feet slipped, but managed to find his grip again. A last push-off, and he leapt into the portal’s surface.

 *

He was still gathering himself up after having landed rather ungracefully on his ass, when the portal’s surface split open again. Jack appeared from it, rolling once before ending up on all fours, alert for any danger around them. He made it look so easy – Chris was glad he hadn’t been around to see his own landing.

Jack got up and offered him a claw-like hand, which Chris took after checking whether anything had spilled out of his backpack. Having pulled him up, Jack held him there for a moment, close to his chest. Chris couldn’t say he minded: he was a little shaky. Looking up, he noticed that Jack’s face was changing – it had been mostly human before, except for the ears, but back on this side of the portal it had reverted to the way he remembered it from that night. He traced a hand along his cheek, his neck, down to the thick fur peeking out from the neckline of his shirt. It was as soft as it was in his wolf form.

“We should get going.”

Jack broke away from him, not meeting his eye. Chris got the impression he was ashamed of the way he looked. What happened to that overconfident grin from earlier? It was probably this damned place – even though they were practically invited, it still gave him the creeps. He could only imagine what kind of influence it would have on Jack, playing with his body like that. Perhaps with his mind, too. Chris decided to keep a close eye on him.

Now that they were here, Chris finally asked the question that had been on his mind all along.

“What exactly are we doing here? What do they expect us to achieve?”

Jack turned back to him and sighed.

“I’m not sure. To observe, I presume. Keep an eye out. If we’re in luck, we won’t have to do anything at all,” he shrugged.

He set off in what Chris could only assume was the right direction, his bare feet silent on the forest floor. Chris realised he must be making so much noise in comparison. He could only hope it wouldn’t alert the Fae.

“Aren’t you scared they’re going to – ” he hesitated “ – do something to you?”

Jack peered over his shoulder, his eyes reflecting the beam of the flashlight. He cocked his head – there was something distinctly nonhuman about the movement, although Chris couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Do what?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s just… the Nexus will be at full strength again soon. What if that means they can do things they weren’t able to before?”

He gestured around them vaguely.

“You said the Root couldn’t touch you because of Dai’s protection, but what if they were lying? What if they just weren’t strong enough to break through it?”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that now,” Jack grinned. “It’s not Dai’s protection that stopped them; it’s Dai’s wrath – or their fear of it, more precisely. Also, I asked Dai and he assured me Fae mind control wouldn’t work on anyone under his protection.”

“Not me, though…”

“Well, you could always get recruited,” he jokingly suggested.

“No, thank you.”

“In that case, I’ll make sure nothing happens to you. Just stay close.”

He continued walking, but after a few paces stopped in his tracks, causing Chris – his mind still elsewhere – to bump into him.

“Too close,” Jack grinned, then pointed ahead of them. “Look.”

When he spotted what Jack had meant, he instinctively reached for his gun. Fairies. There were three of them, walking in the same direction they were, no doubt on their way to the Nexus. When moving on, Jack kept a considerable distance, not wanting to disturb them or to put his assumption that they were welcome here to the test. There were more of them, Chris noticed, converging from all sides towards one central goal. He could see it now, in the distance: a tree standing taller than all of its surroundings, lights faintly shimmering in its branches.

Closer still, he could discern what must be hundreds of fairies congregated underneath it, filling the clearing and lounging against the surrounding trees. Some had found a perch on their branches, being able to look over the crowd from their vantage point. At the base of the tree, given a respectable distance by the fairies, he detected movement, its source roughly the same colour and texture as the Nexus itself: the crelor.

A shiver went down his spine as Jack closed in further, forcing him to follow – if this mob would turn on them, there was no way they’d be getting out of here. Chris could fight off maybe two or three at max, and he had no idea how Jack would do without his powers. He had absolutely no faith in the Root being able to protect them – or willing to, for that matter. Jack, perhaps – but Chris was a hunter. A hunter that had killed one of the Fae before. Would they be able to tell? Smell their blood on him somehow? He hoped not.

Jack held out an arm, barring his way.

“This is as close as we’re gonna get. Not another step, you hear me?”

Chris nodded, trying to decipher the strange look in Jack’s eyes. His expression was focused, but at the same time he wasn’t all there. It was similar to the look he got when using his power, only there was this new, primal aspect to it, the one he remembered from a couple of nights ago. He was using his Fae connection, Chris realised; seeing and hearing things humans couldn’t. He’d sensed that they were getting close to the point where the Nexus could detect him. Then what about the Fae? From his conversation with Ben he remembered that they were able to sense him from twenty or so metres away – more if they had access to vines. Right now they were coming from all sides; the chance that one would pass by that close was pretty big.

“Over here,” Jack gestured, leading him to a bush that offered some protection – from their eyes, that was. Not from their other senses.

“Are you sure this is safe?” he whispered.

“You’re safe with me,” Jack explained, briefly touching the piercing in his ear. “This will tell them not to mess with us.”

“If you say so,” he sighed, not convinced in the slightest.

He also knew that complaining about it wouldn’t change their situation. He’d been offered the chance to sit this one out, and had refused. Now he would have to accept the consequences. It was as simple as that.

Stashing the flashlight and taking out his iron blade, he tried to calm his nerves by taking in his surroundings. Jack had found them a decent enough spot: the ground was slightly elevated, offering them a clear line of sight on the Nexus, while the bushes obscured them from view as much as possible. He also took a moment to memorise the best exit strategies in case of a fight, and possible places of cover in sight of here. It was more a force of habit than anything else, since he did not expect to get out should things get ugly. But perhaps they would have to move positions for other reasons – it was better to be prepared anyway.

Refocusing his attention on the Nexus, he tried to understand what was going on in its inner circle. A fairy stood wrapped in a mantle with a fur collar, patterns stitched along its edges with a thread that seemed to emanate a soft glow. The Root, he guessed, based on the respect the other fairies showed them. There were other figures positioned around the base of the tree, each holding a lantern in their hands, the ones that were lit casting an eerie glow across their faces. The Root stepped up to one of them, using their flame to light the candle in their hand, then placing it inside one of the lanterns before moving on to the next person in the chain. Judging by the amount of lights yet to go, this would be going on for a while. Meanwhile, the crelor stood next to the Nexus’ huge trunk, its hands placed against it. It did not seem to be moving, and Chris couldn’t tell whether anything was happening – but perhaps it wasn’t time for that yet.

“Do you hear that?” Jack whispered next to him.

Chris listened for a moment. From amidst the crowd he could hear a voice, presumably the Root, speaking in a language he couldn’t understand – or at least he thought so, it wasn’t quite loud enough to be sure.

“Sort of? Why, what is it?”

“It’s strange,” Jack mused, his head slightly tilted, his ears turned towards the sound. “It’s like I understand it, but also not. The words don’t make sense, but at the same time they do, you know?”

“I really don’t,” Chris confessed. “It sounds like gibberish to me.”

Jack briefly touched his piercing.

“There’s this… voice whispering in my ear. It’s like this thing is some sort of translator. On one side, there’s gibberish; on the other, words I can understand. And then there’s words that have no English equivalent, but I understand them anyway? I’m not sure how to explain.”

Chris cast him a sideways glance. He would just have to take Jack’s word for it. He’d long given up on trying to understand anything that went on in his head – the less he thought about it, the better. The thing was: usually, these things might be unsettling, but they concerned powers that had been a part of him for most of his life. Right now he was dealing with something alien, forced upon him under questionable circumstances – Chris tried to play it cool, but he was terrified of what this might mean for Jack. This was not the time and place to be worrying about it, though.

“What are they saying?” he asked, shaking the thought.

“Something about the light feeding and nourishing, and being passed from person to person, connecting all. They repeat it with every candle given. The word that means ‘connecting’ is complicated; it feels very intimate, I’m not sure how to…”

His voice trailed off as the Root started speaking again.

Since he didn’t appear to be planning on sharing, Chris’ attention shifted upwards, towards the Nexus’ branches, which were filled with all kinds of things hanging from it by vines or ropes. Some of them were lights much like the ones carried by the fairies, or arrangements of flowers – others he suspected to have some kind of magical purpose. There were constructions made out of twine and flexible twigs, of all shapes and sizes. Many were simple loops, others were elaborate cage-like constructions with various different parts.

He took out a pair of binoculars to get a closer look. The loops all seemed to have a similar build: a circle with an object strung up in its centre. Chris spotted animal skulls, bones, feathers, or fur, but some also contained small pouches, their contents a mystery. The bigger contraptions looked way more complicated, with different parts connected by twine or vine-like material, components strung to them in an arrangement that seemed both chaotic and deliberate. Again, he spotted bones and various animal parts, but also fabric, bundles of dried herbs, rocks and minerals, and more of the little pouches, presumably containing materials that weren’t suited to be strung up. But the thing that creeped him out most was a little idol made of straw, resembling a humanoid figure strung up on a noose. Its arms were wrapped by thorny vines, and it had eyes that glowed like embers. In its chest, where the heart would be, was instead a gaping hole. He found that wherever he focused his attention, every time it would be pulled back to the little idol.

He was shaken out of his fixation when he heard Jack curse under his breath next to him.

“What is it?” he asked, gripping his blade a little tighter in his hand.

Jack was facing away from the Nexus, instead peering into the forest behind them, eyes trained on a spot where Chris couldn’t discern anything special. His ears were perked up, turned in the same direction as he listened carefully.

“He’s here.”

Chris detected a growly undertone in his voice.

“What?! How? What about your shield?”

“I lost track of that as soon as we stepped in here,” Jack reminded him. “He must have come through right after. Just our luck…”

“Of course he did,” Chris sighed. “What now?”

Jack shifted his position slightly, allowing him to keep his balance more easily when turned this way.

“Keep an eye on him, I guess.”

Having it pointed out to him, Chris’ weaker eyes now also noticed movement in the direction Jack was looking: a dark shape moving its way through the brush, attempting to remain unseen. Not well enough to fool a werewolf, though. Ben was still a ways behind them at this point, but was closing in as fast as the environment would allow him. He moved with a grace that surprised Chris for a man of his age – but then again, hunting required a certain level of fitness. Of course, as a Fae expert he could be expected to know his way around this sort of terrain.

“What is that idiot doing?” Jack hissed under his breath.

They watched as Ben passed by them, and seemed to have no intention of stopping. His pace was slower now, more calculated, this close to the Fae congregation, but he seemed determined to get as close as the forest would allow him. Only it wouldn’t allow him to go further for much longer than this, Chris estimated.

He glanced at the ritual, which appeared to continue without issue – for now. The Fae were all transfixed on the Nexus, the very centre of their world, as it renewed its power. If there was any time a trespasser would go unnoticed, it would be now, he figured. But was that reason to worry or not? Once again he wished they would have more insight into Ben’s plans.

“Hang onto this for me.”

Jack pressed a bundle into Chris’ hands. It took him a moment to register the piece of fabric he’d been handed was his shirt, and he was already in the process of taking off more.

“What are you doing?!”

“Whatever I have to.”

Chris grabbed hold of his wrist when Jack added his sweatpants to the pile. He felt bones shift underneath his grip, muscles twitch.

“And what is that exactly?”

“Making sure he doesn’t try anything.”

Jack pulled back his arm, clearly not in the mood for discussion. He was hunched over on all fours, taking deep breaths. Underneath the fur, Chris could see things moving around that definitely should not be there – muscles? Bones? He wasn’t sure.

‘Jack…”

He didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, as Jack cast him a glance, his face more wolf than man, that wild look back in his eye.

“Stay here. Don’t move,” he growled, barely intelligible anymore.

  Tharryn

 He hesitated for a moment, then took one of his long coats off its hanger and put it on, taking comfort in its weight around his shoulders. He’d tried to dress nicely in a clean dress shirt, which contrasted starkly with the way he felt right now – but you know what they said: fake it till you make it. (On the other hand, did it really matter what he wore under the long hooded coats he was known for, which obscured just about everything about him?) He was not feeling his best right now, and choosing comfort over presentation might just give him that last push to actually bring himself to leave the Citadel.

To an outsider, the pieces in his wardrobe might look indistinguishable, but this particular coat was his armour: custom-made to his liking, its many pockets containing everything he might possibly need – within reason, of course. Out of habit, he checked them to make sure everything was in place. There were the basics (keys, wallet, phone); a Swiss knife; tissues; gum; various odds and ends he liked to fidget with; and some empty candy wrappers that no doubt belonged to Aerina. On the inside, his pockets contained small notebooks for several purposes and their accompanying pens (thank fuck for ballpoints; carrying an inkwell wherever you go is risky – even when your entire wardrobe is black); herbs, crystals, and chalk for on-the-go magic necessities; and small vials in case he ever needed to take samples of anything. People were often surprised at its weight (“what do you keep in there, bricks?”), but he found comfort in it, its pull reminding him that he was in fact present in the moment. It grounded him, literally.

And he could use some grounding right about now. He was supposed to meet Dai for lunch, but a message he had received earlier had piqued his interest – which had no doubt been the sender’s intention – and he hadn’t been able to put it out of his mind. He wasn’t quite familiar with the sender or their motives, but perhaps Dai would be able to shine some light onto it. And, more importantly, accompany him.

 Arriving at Dai's office, he was surprised to find only Dylana waiting for him.

"Ah, you didn’t check your phone," she interpreted his confusion with an apologetic shrug. "There was an emergency. Dai wanted you to know he's very sorry. Probably told you so himself as well."

Tharryn fished his phone out of one of the many pockets, checking for messages. What he hadn't counted on was the wall of text now in front of his eyes. He quickly skimmed through the update on the current situation – for as far as he could tell, it was quite serious, and Dai's absence well within reason – but there was more. A lot more. He started reading, but soon decided he would keep the message for later. He put his phone away, hoping his face didn’t look as heated as it felt.

“I see,” he mumbled, and cleared his throat.

Why did Dai have to be such a smooth talker? Tharryn wasn’t sure how to handle such a thing – and that was probably precisely why he did it. He thoroughly enjoyed watching him squirm. Only this time he wasn’t actually here to see it.

“We could still do lunch,” Dylana offered, shaking him out of wherever his mind had taken him. “Dai made a reservation at some fancy place.”

She got up from her desk and sized him up.

"Although, if you’re wearing that old thing…"

"Old!? It's only -"

After some quick mental math, Tharryn decided to leave the sentence unfinished, something she clearly took as a victory.

“Believe it or not, the rest of me looks half decent,” he shrugged. “But I’m afraid lunch will have to wait. I need to go see someone.”

“Oh?”

“I was hoping to have Dai for backup, but I suppose I’ll have to make do.”

“Make do? Is that the way you would describe my company?”

She crossed her arms defiantly and raised an eyebrow at him.

“I… assumed you would have something better to do. This will likely take a bit longer than lunch.”

“I’ve got all the time in the world right now,” she shrugged, leaning against the desk. “Dai gave me explicit orders to make sure you weren’t – and I quote – ‘moping’.”

“He expected me to miss his text,” Tharryn realised.

He wasn’t sure whether to feel offended or touched. Perhaps it made him feel uneasy most of all. There was something about being so deeply known that was frankly quite unsettling. He much preferred being a mystery; a closed book people unsuccessfully tried to pry open for secrets.

“And then it would be in a language they can’t read…” he mumbled, fidgeting with something in his pocket.

“Who can’t read what now?” Dylana inquired, on her face that look he was quite familiar with; the mix of confusion and worry saying oh, he’s not all there, is he?

Tharryn shook off the thought.

“Nothing.”

He spent a moment grasping at straws trying to recall the conversation at present.

“Yes, I suppose you could tag along. I could use the company. Don’t feel like going anywhere on my own right now.”

“Alright.”

She veered up from the desk, hooking her arm through his.

“Where to?”

“In a minute,” he replied, gesturing for her to slow down. “First: what do you know about someone called Criam?”

  Tin

 When she came to, she could barely manage to keep her eyes open for much more than a squint. Bright spotlights were trained on her from all sides – as if she could summon any shadow with her hands bound, she thought furiously. She tried the bonds, but they were tied tightly, there was no wriggling room. A gag kept her from screaming out, not that she thought it would help much. Since she could barely see it was hard to determine where exactly she was, but Tin figured it must be some kind of basement or other room without windows. For as far as she could tell, she was alone. For now.

Not that she’d be able to work on her escape much: even though she only required minimal hand movement, she still needed to be able to see her hands, along with whatever darkness she was trying to manipulate. Ironically, that also meant she was powerless when it was pitch black. She’d tried it before, but it was like the all-consuming darkness was stronger than her will, like she couldn’t find purchase on it. In truth, she needed the light as much as its more familiar counterpart, like two halves of the same coin.

She continued to wriggle, mostly because there was nothing else to be done that didn’t require the use of her hands, while practically steaming with rage (or was that simply the heat these lights gave off?) but paused when she heard a door open somewhere in the vicinity. Listening closely, she heard multiple people enter the room.

“Ease up on the lights a little, will you?” a voice sounded – masculine, with an undertone of exhaustion.

“Sir, with all due respect…” another voice started.

“You really don’t want him to have to repeat himself,” a feminine voice interjected, clearly not tolerating any protest.

A pause followed, in which one of them must have relented, as the next moment the lights dimmed to the point where her eyes no longer burned. She blinked a couple of times, attempting to erase the floating specks of light from her vision.

“What am I looking at here, Criam?”

She could now match a face to the tired voice asking for the lights to be dimmed. Or, a silhouette, more accurately. He was wearing a long, hooded coat, obscuring his face and most of his body. The kind of clothing that said “I do not wish to be perceived” – something she understood quite well.

He was flanked by a red-haired woman who appeared human, as far as Tin could tell, and who was staring daggers at the other two people in the room. One of them she recognised as Lutor, the owner of the house she’d robbed, dressed as ostentatiously as she’d observed him over the last few days. The other one she didn’t know, but she presumed this must be Criam.

“I’ve caught one of your abominations,” they said, taking a step forward to gesture at her, disdain in their voice.

So this was her captor. They were a tall demon with emerald green skin, dressed in what appeared to be some sort of military getup – only she had seen some of Darynir’s military pass through town, and this is not what they wore. Private contractor, then. That meant they could want her for all kinds of reasons.

“The rayan are not abominations,” the hooded man replied, his tone sending a shiver down her spine.

It was like she was looking at a different person. Shadows now clung to his cloak, not unlike the way she would occasionally shape them to conceal herself. But where she pulled the shadows towards her, these seemed to emanate from within him. He stood up straighter, the exhaustion seemingly completely disappeared as he looked her over. Even though she couldn’t discern his face, she could feel his gaze as if it was something tangible grasping for her – then she realised that it was. An energy tentatively reached out to her; dark and shadowy, yet unlike anything she was familiar with – but to be fair, that list wasn’t spectacularly long either.

“This isn’t one of mine,” he concluded, the tendril retracting.

“How can you be sure?” Criam inquired. “Certainly you don’t know every single one of them personally?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” the hooded man shrugged. “Whatever deal you were looking to make, I’m not interested.”

He turned to leave.

“Don’t you want to know more?” her captor pushed. “Believe me, this is a special one. Infamous too, around here. The way she bends the shadows to her will…”

The man paused on his way out.

“…What did you just say?”

A sly smile showed on her captor’s face. She recognised that look, as she’d seen it before on countless others. They’d successfully laid out the bait, whatever that meant in this situation. Was she the bait? No matter, the hooded man had not seen it and she had no way of communicating with him. She wasn’t even sure yet whether she wanted to, knowing nothing about his intentions or motives, other than the fact that he was not the one who’d captured her – which, admittedly, was a pretty low bar.

“Slippery, this one,” the snake continued. “Hard to grasp, like a shadow. Easily bypasses shields – saw it myself. And did I mention there’s a price on her head? If you’re not interested, I’ve got more lucrative options lined up. I just wanted you to have the scoop, so to speak. Between friends.”

The hooded man didn’t react, but she immediately knew the two of them were not friends. Assuming this rat-faced bastard had any. Even Lutor seemed to keep a safe distance from them at all times.

“And what’s the offer you would make me?” he inquired. “You know… as friends.”

Tin noticed that his voice had lost its sharp edge and trailed off at the end, almost as if the answer didn’t interest him in the slightest. Instead, she saw his tendrils reaching out to her again, tracing across her skin. She wanted to scream; tell him he should keep his creepy tentacles to himself – but she couldn’t. She hated to admit it, but some part of her was intrigued by this energy, strange but still familiar.

“Let’s talk upstairs and I’m sure we could work something out,” Criam smiled greedily.

The hooded man seemed not to hear, and instead stepped into the circle of lights.

Her captor gasped, clearly not having anticipated that, and manoeuvred themselves between him and where she was being held.

“I’m just taking a closer look,” the man said, holding his hands up apologetically.

“You must understand I cannot let you touch the merchandise,” Criam explained.

Even though their back was turned to her, she could hear the overly sweet fake smile they put on when continuing: “Wouldn’t want you to pull a Houdini on us.”

“If I wanted to pull tricks on you, you’d be dead on the floor before ever getting the chance to lay eyes on me.”

The man’s scary voice had returned, and Tin could swear the temperature in the room dropped a couple of degrees when he answered.

“Considering you’ve made it this far, I suggest you get out of my way.”

Her captor begrudgingly sidestepped, gesturing towards her as if to say “she’s all yours”.

“Don’t fool yourself into thinking that just because I showed up, you hold any power in this conversation,” the man reminded Criam, his back turned.

He knelt in front of her, his face on eye level with hers. Now that the light could reach it, she could get a first look at his face. It betrayed not a single shred of emotion, but his grey eyes looked tired. More importantly, she was surprised to learn that his face appeared human. Now, she knew appearances meant fuck-all, but for her it only added to the mystery.

She realised he looked at her with the same level of interest, his eyes clearly looking for something in hers. Recognition, perhaps? She’d have to disappoint, she had never seen him before. And from her current appearance, he couldn’t possibly know she was part human. Or could he? Was this what this was all about? She had been called an “abomination”, after all. People had called her similar things before, but this time she didn’t have a clue as to what aspect of her was being targeted.

He got up abruptly, turning his back to her and stepping out of the circle.

“I’ve seen enough,” he declared. “Sell her, for all I care.”

Then, turning to his companion, who had stayed silent ever after her initial remark: “Let’s go.”

Without a word to either Criam or Lutor, they headed back up the stairs.

It wasn’t until after they had left that Tin realised her hands were no longer bound.

  Dylana

 They were on their way off the grounds, when she noticed Tharryn was no longer beside her. She found him a few paces back, where he’d found a tree to lean against. She caught up with him, an unspoken question in her eyes, but his gaze was focused elsewhere.

“Shouldn’t have pissed me off,” he mumbled, looking back at the house.

She waited, but there was no change in his demeanour.

“For those of us who don’t have access to your mind – care to explain?”

For a moment she thought he hadn’t heard, and she was about to snap him out of it when he managed to tear his eyes away from the window.

“You know how I can be terrible at reading people and their intentions?” he asked, still not looking at her.

She couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m pretty sure you were spot on, regarding Criam.”

“Not what I meant.”

Again, she patiently waited for clarification, knowing that rushing him would get neither of them anywhere.

“They don’t have a clue about what they have,” he said incredulously, starting to pace back and forth. “They saw a dark energy and jumped to conclusions. And those conclusions led to what – ransoming a rayan to me? What could they possibly hope to achieve with that?”

Tharryn gestured vaguely, trying to find the right words.

“Except for, like, death – those weren’t empty threats, they just… weren’t required in the moment.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Dylana grinned. “I’m well aware of your threats.”

Her phone buzzed, as it had been doing steadily since they’d arrived. It wasn’t Dai, so it could wait. The world wouldn’t end without her – if it did, she would need to have a talk about her salary.

“So… if it’s not a rayan, what do they have?”

“An ashinon. Which shouldn’t be possible. They don’t live around here, and the ones that do venture this far won’t be so easily captured. Or so easily kept, for that matter. They’re masters of shadow, able to hide and slip through: the perfect spies. Zerados has an elite force of them. Which makes this all the more intriguing.”

“You were trying to gauge whether she was a spy,” Dylana realised.

“I was trying to gauge many things. Don’t know if I did so accurately. Hence the pacing. And the… whatever.”

He made a dismissive gesture, as if trying to wave the words away.

“It could be a ploy,” he analysed. “An elaborate act between two parties feigning cluelessness, enticing me into…”

Another silence.

“But why? Why go to such lengths to… – it must be genuine. Genuine stupidity, I’ll admit, but…”

Dylana reached for his hand and stopped him from pacing.

“You’re rambling,” she pointed out.

He looked at her, possibly for the first time since they’d left, and took a deep breath.

“I made a decision,” he stated. “Ploy or not, I wasn’t going to play by their rules either way. Not engaging seemed like the smart thing to do. But, you see…”

He took another glance at the house.

“This guy just really pissed me off.”

Dylana, still holding onto his sleeve, tugged on it to force him to look at her again.

“Tharryn, what did you do?”

Before he could answer, they were interrupted by the sound of breaking glass.

  Tin

 As her captors looked at the stairs, probably wondering where things had gone wrong, she knew she didn’t have long to act before they would turn the lights up again or check her bindings. Perhaps they would even decide to get rid of her, whatever they had planned having turned sideways. She couldn’t imagine that any hypothetical other interested parties would care about receiving her alive.

When depending on the element of surprise, acting quickly was of the utmost importance. Luckily they had created ample opportunity for her to do so. Every light cast a shadow, and putting them in a circle like this meant anyone approaching her would conveniently block out the light for her, creating a shadowy trail like a lit fuse, leading straight to their end. On the other hand, staying out of the circle meant they would have to stand in the dark themselves, which would make the payoff so much sweeter. The only thing left for her to do then was to get to them.

As expected, it didn’t take long for Criam to saunter over to her, a smug grin on their face.

“It seems like there’s been a slight change in our plans.”

She didn’t move until they were close enough, a nice pool of shadow forming under their chin as they stepped in the path of the light. With a quick gesture she solidified it into a blade, jamming it into their neck. Their eyes widened in surprise as they reached for it. Sparks started to form on Criam’s fingers, and she prepared for some kind of retribution, but instead they sank to their knees. Watching their blood pool on the floor, she pulled the gag from her mouth.

“A minor change, indeed,” she shrugged, stepping over their body.

A second later she cursed herself for taking this moment, as she looked up just in time to see Lutor lunge for the panel on the wall, before the light blinded her again. Now that she was free, it was more of an annoyance than something to hold her. Lutor, being the coward he was, wasn’t much of a threat either. He wasn’t a spectacularly talented caster, she knew from her surveillance, but just about anyone could manage to hurl some flames at their target. And while her shadows could pierce shields, they weren’t very suitable for creating them.

Having been waiting for it, she ducked out of the way as a ball of flame only barely sailed over her head and impacted with something beyond the circle’s reach, which toppled over with a crash. A short sprint while he prepared another one, and she’d bypassed the circle already, ducking once more for the next fireball, which this time took out one of the lights. Panicking now, Lutor summoned more flames into his hands, but before he could use them for anything she’d called two tendrils of darkness to restrain him. The flames roared and quickly burned through his bindings, but they had only served to delay him while she summoned a blade and drove it home in much the same way as her previous victim.

She didn’t stay and gloat this time – he wasn’t worth it, anyway – and instead hurried up the stairs as silently as she could manage, listening carefully at the top for any kind of movement. Two quick strikes took care of the guards posted there. After they’d hit the ground with a thud she waited, but it seemed quiet, so she slipped around the corner, gathering some shadows for cover just in case. Who knew how many cronies Criam would have walking around the house.

Another corner, and she spotted some of Lutor’s staff huddled around a door at the far side of the hall. They seemed to be having some kind of discussion, but she wasn’t going to stick around and find out what it was about. She was inching closer, sticking close to the wall while making her way to the exit halfway down the hall, when the far door swung open, causing the staff to disperse with muffled yelps. Two demons in similar army getup stepped through, one of them carrying a bottle, the other wiping their mouth on their sleeve, like they’d just enjoyed a meal. They were laughing and pushing each other around, until one of them froze and pointed in her direction.

“Hey!”

She hadn’t moved since they’d appeared, but still her pool of shadows must have seemed suspicious enough to notice. Without stealth she lacked the advantage she knew she needed to take them on. The door was too far away, now that they were rushing towards her, so there was only one way left to go…

A spear of shadow crashed through the window, taking the brunt of the impact as she followed after. She rolled to break her fall and got up, trying not to pay attention to the crunching sound of broken glass as she did so. That was a problem for later. Right now she needed to get out of here. Cross the courtyard, break through the barrier – it was way past trying to do so stealthily, she figured. And even when she had, they had somehow known she was coming, anyway.

She didn’t hear anyone behind her yet, but it would only be a matter of time before they’d catch up, she knew as she opted for the cover of the trees, instead of taking a straight line.

“Going somewhere?”

She whipped around at the voice coming from between the trees, blades at the ready, expecting to see more army-wannabes, but it was just the hooded man from before.

“You see?” he gestured, turning to his companion. “If she were from Zerados, we’d be dead now. Or, well… dead-adjacent.”

The red-haired woman nodded, observing her.

“Doesn’t look very assassin-y to me, more of a– …Did you just say ‘dead-adjacent’?”

“I don’t think any ashinon could take me out, assassin or not,” he clarified. “And about the word choice: you people are rubbing off on me.”

She seemed pleased with that, judging by the smug little smile.

Tin, blades still hovering in the air beside her, looked at the two of them incredulously. They seemed to have already forgotten she was here, despite assessing her– …her what, exactly? Ability to kill? Had this been some kind of test? Criam had wanted to sell her to them, after all.

Slowly, keeping the blades where they were, she took a step back.

“Running would be a terrible mistake,” the man spoke offhandedly, like he was simply remarking upon the weather.

“Who the fuck are you people?!”

“I’m Dylana, this is Tharryn,” the woman spoke.

A pause, in which the both of them looked at her expectantly.

“…Tin,” she reluctantly replied.

Then, repeating herself, feeling like her question hadn’t been answered sufficiently: “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“Doesn’t have a clue,” Tharryn remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice. “How in the world…”

“Let’s be nice to her, shall we?” Dylana reminded him.

She turned her attention back to Tin.

“Assuming she/her is what you want to be referred to? I can’t imagine Criam bothered to ask,” she shrugged.

Tin confirmed with a nod.

“Good. Me too. Tharryn’s he/him.”

A shout was heard, and Tin looked over her shoulder back at the house.

“As much as I enjoy the gender validation, we should probably get the hell out of here. Or I will, at least.”

“Excellent plan,” came Tharryn’s reply.

As she turned to leave, from the corner of her eye she saw a tendril of his energy reach for her again and used her blades to slice through it. She noticed a resistance, it felt less effective than it was against regular magic, but it did the trick.

“And keep those things to yourself! Ever heard of consent?”

Tharryn just stared at her, perplexed, while Dylana repressed a snicker.

“How…?”

She had no time to wait and hear the rest, and she spun around and started a beeline for the outer shield. She hadn’t even made it more than five paces away when another tendril connected with her, spreading a strange energy through her entire body. It only lasted for a second, then withdrew itself, leaving her with a strange nauseous feeling.

That could’ve been worse, she thought, right as her senses registered she was no longer in the courtyard – a split second before she ran face-first into a wall.

  Tharryn

 “Motherfucker!” Tin cursed, reaching for her face.

He watched her look up at the wall, clutching her nose, and subsequently spin around to take in the rest of the room, and him, in bewilderment.

“What the…?” a muffled voice sounded beneath her hands.

While earlier they’d defaulted to Issadic, Darynir’s most commonly spoken language, she spoke English now. It must feel more natural to her, Tharryn realised. He had noticed earlier that her Issadic sounded a little stilted, but he hadn’t thought much of it. Many demons had different mother tongues, after all.

He’d taken the three of them back to Dai’s office, as he figured they wouldn’t be disturbed there. It was a good place to put her for the moment, while he could decide what to do with her and whether she was a threat. For now, she was mainly trying to figure out how she’d ended up here, while shaking some pieces of glass out of her clothes.

“Want me to take a look at that?” he offered, gesturing at her face and a cut across her arm.

“I’m fine!” she growled. “And don’t you dare point those things at me again!”

“Alright, alright,” Tharryn agreed, holding his hands up.

He took a moment to observe her – now that they were finally in a place with a normal amount of light. She was quite tall, with long, dark hair tied back into a braid. A loose strand of hair was caught on one of her horns, which had such a deep black colour they appeared to absorb the light. Her skin tone resembled a – very pale – human’s, but it showed dark patches which seemed to shift ever so slightly, like shadows clung to her. Down her forearms, her skin gradually darkened all the way to her fingertips, which were pitch black. She wore dark, practical clothing to match – suited for a night of crime. A slender tail curled itself around one leg, indicating the unease of its owner as she kept a keen eye on him.

Despite the warnings, Tharryn’s curiosity won out once again.

“Just to be sure… you mean these things?”

He called a thread of nydra and drew a straight line through the air, making sure not to make any movements she could interpret it as an attack.

“Those, yeah.”

She raised an eyebrow as if to say “do you think I’m stupid?”. Or perhaps she thought he was.

“You see, the thing is: those aren’t supposed to be visible. I don’t think I know of anyone who can see them – reapers not included – and I’m pretty sure you’re not a reaper.”

“Never even met one before.”

To confirm his theory, Tharryn briefly turned invisible, but detected no reaction from her. This, he was less surprised about: recruited humans and many demons could see him this way.

“So, you’re a reaper?” she concluded.

He attempted a smile.

“The First Reaper, actually.”

Finally something about the severity of the situation seemed to click, judging by her eyes.

“Oh shit,” she whispered, immediately followed by: “what do you want from me?”

Tharryn shrugged, put his hands in his pockets, and leaned against the desk.

“Honestly? I’m not sure. Criam seemed convinced I’d be interested – but they also seemed to think you were a rayan, so…”

“What is that?” Tin interrupted.

“A demon-reaper hybrid, created by my predecessor. They’re my responsibility now, but to be honest I don’t try very hard to keep track of them. They’re just living their lives, really. Now that I think of it, Criam was probably trying to pin whatever crimes you committed on me.”

“They thought I was working for you,” she realised.

“I’m not sure what they were thinking, to be honest. All I can say is that they don’t seem to be doing much of it.”

This earned him a little snorted laugh.

“Not anymore, at least,” she grinned, then froze, realising she basically just confessed to murder.

“Don’t worry – I was hoping you’d do that,” Tharryn shrugged. “It would grant me plausible deniability.”

“As if you’d need that,” Dylana remarked dryly, looking up from where she’d been quietly checking her messages.

“I try to at least pretend I’m not above the law.”

“Oh, is that what you’re doing?”

Truth be told, Tharryn wasn’t sure what he was doing, he just knew that “whatever I want” wasn’t always the correct answer, even though it was the most tempting one.

While they were occupied, Tin wandered over to the window, pressing her nose up against the glass.

“Is this New York?” she asked, surprised.

Tharryn nodded.

“Sure is. You’re from here, aren’t you?”

She looked back at him, clearly considering whether to lie, then sighed.

“Born and raised. How’d you know?”

He had simply meant she was from earth, but he appeared to have accidentally brought her back home.

“I didn’t,” he confessed. “So how…”

“Is this your office?” she deflected before he could get a question in, pretending to look around the room with interest.

“It’s my partner’s.”

He still wasn’t completely sure how much she knew about Downtown’s politics. When she didn’t know his name, but did know what the term “First Reaper” meant, would she realise whose office she was standing in right now? Would she recognise him when he walked through the door? It was hard to tell – but being raised on earth would be the start of an explanation.

And to be fair: he still wasn’t used to people recognising him, either. Before, he was only known by Dai’s inner circle, but since he’d taken over from Aleisset, all kinds of random people seemed to know who he was. He’d become a public persona, a role that didn’t always agree with him.

“They must be rich…” Tin mumbled, continuing her tour of the room, studying the contents of one of his shelves in particular.

“He is,” Tharryn smiled – there was his answer. “I’d keep your hands to yourself, though. If you want to keep them.”

“I wasn’t going to rob him!” Tin protested, crossing her arms. “Who do you think I am?”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to figure out, here. And all I’ve got so far…”

He started counting on his fingers.

“Ashinon; New York; likes to steal things; and we share a preference for dark clothing.”

Tin shrugged.

“Then you know all there is to know ab- …wait, what was that first one?”

“Ashinon? It’s the type of demon you are.”

“Oh…” she said softly.

Tharryn observed her once more.

“You were raised by humans, weren’t you?”

She looked back at him, deciding whether to open up.

“My mother is human,” she sighed in the end. “Never knew my father, but I assume he’s a… whatever you just said.”

She fidgeted with a zipper on one of her pockets, again avoiding his eyes.

Dylana, who had briefly disappeared from his radar – she was good at that – now came up behind him, holding two cups.

“You know, regular people might want to sit down during these kinds of conversations,” she said, gently nudging him towards the sitting area by the window.

“Right…”

He hated how she was right; he never thought about these kind of things. She was also one of the few people that would understand and point it out to him – it was one of the things he liked most about her.

She turned to Tin.

“Coffee?”

She nodded and curled up in the corner of the couch with her cup.

“I’ll be in my office,” Dylana whispered to him before leaving.

Tharryn sat down, staring into his cup for a while, not sure where to begin. Sitting down made everything feel more serious, somehow. More permanent.

It was Tin who broke the silence first.

“Do you know any…”

A pause, while she tried to remember the word.

“…Anyone like me?”

Tharryn shook his head.

“They aren’t from around here – from Darynir, I mean,” he clarified. “How much do you know about the way Kellan is structured, anyway?”

She shrugged.

“I know there’s Darynir and other countries – they’re at war, and that’s about it.”

“Hmm, a cease-fire would be more accurate, at the moment – but yes, that’s the basics. Ashinon are from another region, and generally don’t visit earth much, because of its close ties to Darynir. So I could only guess as to what your father was up to, and I definitely have no way of finding him.”

She stiffened.

“Why do you think I’d be interested in that? He sure didn’t bother to.”

“I’m just trying to say that I’m in no way an expert on your kind, or your abilities.”

He leaned in, knowing she would not react kindly to more nydra-probing.

“…Do you possess any enveryn at all?”

He caught himself, before she could react.

“You know what – don’t answer that, it’s not important. We’re here for you.”

She cocked her head.

“Are we? I was under the impression you abducted me here.”

“Would you prefer being tied up in that basement again? Could be arranged,” he shrugged.

“What are we doing here, though? Am I a prisoner? A hostage? Are you going to hand me over to the police for robbery and murder?”

“Not if I can help it.”

Tharryn thought for a moment. What was his goal here? By now it was safe to assume she wasn’t a threat – except perhaps to people’s valuables.

“I’m just curious,” he decided. “You have to admit, this is all kind of strange. I don’t deal with girls tied up in the basement very often – not ones that are alive, anyway…”

A hint of panic in her eyes. Shit.

“Hey, I collect the dead – I’ve seen some things,” he tried to explain.

“Right…”

From the way she looked at him, he knew he needed to get back on track, before this entire conversation went off the rails.

“The point is: you’re free to go. I could drop you off wherever you desire – or you could just walk out the door, if that’s what you prefer. I’m not trying to keep you here against your will; you just look like you could use some answers.”

She shrugged.

“I’m good. I’ve been doing just fine on my own so far. Also, you basically just admitted you don’t have the answers I’m looking for, anyway.”

“Not yet,” he specified. “I’ve got connections; I could reach out to them.”

Tharryn leaned in.

“Trying to do everything by yourself is understandable, especially when you’re used to it – believe me, I know. But sometimes it’s good to know someone’s in your corner. Someone to call when you’re – oh, I don’t know, tied up in someone’s basement?”

“Ah, yes, how stupid of me, I should’ve just used my phone,” Tin countered. “…The phone I will probably never see again.”

“Bad example,” he had to admit. “What I mean is: give me a couple of days, and I’ll have found someone who can teach you more about your origins.”

He pulled a card from one of his pockets. It was blank except for his phone number – a trick he’d copied from Dai. If it would ever end up in a place it didn’t belong, at least it wouldn’t have his name on it.

“If you manage to get your hands onto another phone, give me a call. Or not. Totally up to you.”

He held out the card in the space between them.

“I’d prefer it if you kept this to yourself, though. I’d hate to have to change numbers again.”

She snatched the card out of the air.

“I’ll promise to sign you up to as many obnoxious call centres as I can find.”

“I…”

“Nuh-uh, no takebacks!” she grinned, tucking the card safely away.

She hopped up from the couch.

“Now I would like to get out of here.”

Tharryn immediately regretted having made her this promise, hoping to have gotten a little more information out of her – but he wasn’t going to come back on it, either. He was trying to build trust here, after all.

He got up from his chair, but waited a moment before heading towards the door, giving her another look-over.

“Do you have any kind of disguise? Illusion, glamour, you name it?”

She reached for a cord around her neck and removed the ring attached to it. Putting it around her finger caused her horns and tail to vanish, the marks on her skin to lighten.

“Good enough for you?” she asked impatiently.

Her voice sounded noticeably higher now, leading him to believe that it was a feature specifically requested when she’d ordered it.

“I just wanted to make sure,” he shrugged. “Couldn’t send you onto the street looking like that.”

“Sure you can. I own hoodies too, you know.”

“I wouldn’t call it a hoodie… but that’s fair,” he decided. “I just like to use both.”

“You’re wearing a glamour?” she asked, studying his face. “…and still you look like that?”

He attempted to smile.

“Careful now, I could still lock you in the basement.”

“I’d better get out of here, then.”

“You’d better.”

Tharryn opened the door to the hallway.

“I’ll walk you down – wouldn’t want security to stop you at the ground floor.”

“What are they gonna do, lock me in the basement?” Tin scoffed.

She had a grin on her face, but it quickly disappeared when he answered “Worse.”.

At the end of the hallway, Tharryn called the elevator.

“Do you have anywhere to stay?” he asked, trying to make it sound casual, instead of like an overbearing parent.

“I have a place,” she confirmed. “Or, rather: I have a friend.”

“Good, good…”

They watched in silence as the elevator descended, allowing them a great view of the city through its glass outer wall. However nice, it had always made him feel like he was being watched by everyone below.

“Afternoon, sir,” the guard at the desk downstairs greeted him as they passed.

“Jones,” he nodded. “I’ve told you, there’s no need to call me ‘sir’.”

“And I’ve told you my name is Mark,” came the usual response.

“And I might call you that if you ever call me by my name,” he called over his shoulder.

Mark flipped him off – apparently that was considered appropriate behaviour towards a superior, whereas calling him by his name was off-limits. In fact, they had this conversation every time he stopped by, so often that by now it had become more of a joke than anything else.

He looked back at Tin when they’d arrived at the door.

“Call me,” he reminded her, nodding towards the pocket she’d hidden his card in.

“You know, this is a very strange way to hit on someone,” she smirked.

“I, uh… oh no, that’s not what I’m… I’m not into… people.”

“I was just kidding.”

She looked at her toes for a moment.

“Thanks for getting me out of there, I guess.”

“You’re welcome,” he said on autopilot.

They stood around awkwardly for another moment.

“Well, see ya!” Tin blurted out, and hurried onto the street before he could say another word.

She’d disappeared into the crowd within seconds.

Tharryn turned around to make his way up again. When he passed by, Mark looked up from his computer, that he no doubt only pretended to be looking at.

“Say, is she related to you or something?”

  Tin

 Everything was exactly as she remembered from the last time she’d been here: weeds fought their way through the cracks in the pavement; the alley behind the apartment building still housed someone’s discarded couch, which slowly started to be covered by moss; and the electric lock on the gate still sprang open with ease when faced with her shadows.

In theory, she could have rang the doorbell like a normal person – but then again, she wasn’t, was she? He should know that by now, and if not, he could do with a reminder.

The lock on his front door was new, she noticed – a break-in? Or had he just lost his keys again? Either way, it clicked open after a moment of feeling around with her trusty lock picks, and she stepped inside. The place smelled like paint, as it often did. From the other room, she could vaguely hear music. When the door closed behind her, it paused.

“Hello?” a voice called.

She couldn’t help but grin.

She looked over to Seb – or should she say: Robert Hastings, her first mate, who was walking next to her with big strides, weapon tucked under his belt. Originally, his character had just been called Rob, purely so Seb could yell his catchphrase, “you’ve been Robbed!” whenever they’d pulled off a successful job. But now that they were older, he just went by Hastings. The name belonged to one of her father’s previous crew, someone who used to terrify them both as kids. And being feared was incredibly important for a pirate, so they’d taken it after he’d been lost in battle.

It was busy out on the docks as a ship had just come in, her crew now offloading its haul to be sold later today. Ari recognised its flag: it was The Wren, a smaller pirate vessel whose captain had on occasion stayed over for dinner at their house. She knew they would not be receiving him this time, as her father was still out at sea, and had been for some time.

“Our first challenge,” she said, hopping onto a crate, “is to navigate the dangerous swamp. One foot on the ground, and you’ll be sucked in.”

Seb followed her example as she leapt over to the next crate to make room.

“Watch out for the deadly alligators, too,” he added.

They jumped from crate to crate, stabbing at dangerous predators with their swords, then inched across a dangerously swaying bridge (or rather, along the rope spanning between two fence posts) when the crates were too far apart to jump. Just when Seb had to throw out an imaginary rope when she risked being swallowed by the treacherous mud, a shadow loomed over the both of them.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

A man with broad shoulders and the thickest arms Ari had ever seen towered over them, setting down the barrel he’d been carrying and wiping his brow. She noticed he was missing some fingers.

“This is no place for children to play. Shouldn’t you be helping out your parents?”

Ari hopped onto the barrel, a new safe island he’d created for them, and crossed her arms.

“I am helping, by keeping an eye on all of you. Also, I’m helping my mum by saving on tutoring costs.”

Her parents had hired a tutor to instruct her in various subjects, but most of it she found incredibly boring. More importantly, the lessons were keeping her from roaming around with Seb, something she much more preferred.

“Tutoring, huh…”

The large man observed her, turning the words over in his mind.

“You one of them rich kids?”

Before she could answer he’d lifted her off of the barrel, back onto a crate.

“Either way, this is no place for a girl. Go home.”

His eyes moved over to Seb.

“You, boy. If you can do any heavy lifting you can stay, otherwise piss off.”

He picked up the barrel again and continued making his way down the dock.

“Well, that was just rude,” Ari glared at him as he walked away.

“Perhaps we should look for our crew somewhere else?” Seb suggested. “I don’t see our ship anywhere.”

“Maybe, yeah.”

Ari hopped down onto the planks of the dock.

“I might have an idea. But we can’t have anyone see us.”

She ducked behind the crates, moving behind them now, back in the direction they’d come from. Whenever someone passed, they pressed themselves up against the wood, waiting for the footsteps to recede.

“This way,” she whispered, and ducked into a more quiet part of the dock.

There were fewer people here, but also fewer things to hide behind, forcing them to pause behind the last crate and just bolt, hoping no one was looking their way. They ran past a ship that had already finished unloading, her crew off to enjoy everything the port town had to offer. Past the bow, Ari could see her target: a ship that would do nicely for today’s adventure.

In the corner of the bay, where the beach ended and the rocks began, stood a small warehouse belonging to a carpenter, next to which a small vessel lay dry-docked waiting on repairs to her hull. They could hear a grinding noise coming from inside the building, like wood being shaved, but the ship itself appeared abandoned, her sails neatly furled.

“This is it,” she whispered. “Our crew must be close.”

“You think they’re being kept in the warehouse?” Seb asked, observing the open doors behind which the carpenter was loudly at work. “At least he won’t hear us coming, I guess.”

“Perhaps. But why would he leave the door open? Let’s check out the ship first.”

It took a moment to figure out the best place to board, since the part of the hull that’s usually under water was now also exposed, and its curved, barnacle-encrusted surface wasn’t exactly easy to climb. The carpenter’s scaffolding, however, was much more accessible. By the looks of it, he hadn’t started on the actual repairs yet, judging by the splintered wood where the vessel had scraped against the rocks. It was a miracle she had made it back to port at all, Ari thought. She remembered the commotion, about a week ago, when the ship had been brought in. Half the town had come out and helped to drag her ashore, rows of them pulling on thick ropes. Ari and her mother had watched them, but when the men had all gone to drink together afterwards, her mother had dragged her home. She was certain that, had her father been there, he would have let her stay.

The benefit of a parent not being around much was that at the times that he was, he would try to make up for it, something Ari was very well aware of. He’d bring her gifts, trophies of the ships he’d captured; sometimes there’d be a book, another time something shiny, and once she’d gotten a collection of paints in a whole array of colours. At some point he’d brought home a dagger, which had been promptly confiscated by her mother, followed by a shouting match she could hear all the way from her room. The next day she’d been told the story of how he’d acquired the dagger, even though she’d never gotten to see it again. His stories were the best, since he didn’t hold out on the details that others might find… less suited for children’s ears. They would play with wooden swords, and she’d get tours on his ship whenever they weren’t loading or unloading cargo. She knew many of the crew by name, and they were always very nice to her, despite their rough exteriors.

“I don’t see anyone, they must be below decks,” Seb remarked.

“They’re in the brig, probably.”

Ari followed him towards the stairs, looking around.

“If this ship has one, that is. When I have my own ship, it’ll be much larger than this.”

“Like your dad’s?”

“Exactly. And you’ll be my first mate, of course.”

Seb halted at the bottom of the stairs.

“There’s guards, captain,” he whispered, jumping back into his role.

She drew her wooden sword.

“That means the crew must be kept here. Let’s both take one.”

They jumped down with blades drawn to take the guards by surprise, acting out elaborate duels against invisible opponents. Naturally, both of them managed to win in the end without a scratch on them. No enemy stood a chance against Herrero and Hastings.

The hold of the ship was mostly empty and smelled of seaweed and dead fish, a reminder that the sea had managed to breach its walls recently. The sound of water dripping into puddles was alternated by the scurrying and scratching of rats, who would have no issue getting in and out through the splintered wreckage up ahead. Not wanting to spend any more time down here than necessary, they ushered their imaginary crew towards the stairs, back onto the deck.

“Now, let’s take our ship back!”

She moved across the deck, issuing commands. Some of them she was taught by her father, at the times where they would walk the length of his ship together and he would point out and name various parts of the rigging and their function. Others she had overheard him shouting whenever he left port and she was left behind standing on the dock until the ship was merely a dot on the horizon.

They played like this for a while, pretending to chase a prey, sword fighting on the deck, or swinging from the rigging. It had always amazed her how fast Seb could climb up the shrouds, how easily he could keep his balance and how confident his movements were. Sure, she could manage herself as well up there, but only as long as she didn’t look down for too long, or thought about it too much. She preferred to have her feet firmly on the deck, while he seemed very at home up there. Any real crew would be lucky to have him, she thought.

And it wouldn’t be too long before he’d be allowed to join them. Soon he would be old enough to work – actual work, instead of running errands for various merchants in town, like he did now. He needed the money, since there was no one else taking care of him anymore. He had to fend for himself, to make sure he had food and a place to stay – and for that, money needed to be made.

Meanwhile, she was expected to stay at home and learn nowadays. Spending all her days with the rough crowd in town was looked down upon. Her mother had mostly given up on trying to turn her into a proper lady, after a lot of sighing and calling her a “lost cause” – but with a hint of a smile underneath. Instead, her parents had arranged a tutor to teach her English, Spanish, and math, among other things. At first she’d protested, but her father had knelt down, given her a conspiring wink and told her these were things a good captain would need to know. From then on she’d decided to try her best – just not all the time, because when else would they find the time to play?

Lately she had started realising more and more that her and Seb’s lives were not the same, and that they were expected to go in very different directions. She didn’t like it one bit. She didn’t want things to change, for the two of them to grow apart. They were best friends, after all.

“Do you promise we’ll always stay together?” she asked, when the both of them were sitting halfway up the shrouds, their feet dangling down.

“Of course,” Seb answered, almost seeming offended she would suggest otherwise. “We’ll find a ship willing to take the both of us on.”

“Uh, yeah: my dad’s,” she reminded him.

“I’m not sure he’d be…”

“Miss Gutiérrez!” a booming voice interrupted him. “Get down from there this instant!”

Down below them on the ground stood the carpenter, peering up at them, wood shavings stuck in his hair. Ari knew they could easily outrun him if necessary, but she actually liked him and knew it wouldn’t be needed in this case.

“Hey, Pete,” she said when she’d made her way down, jumping down the last bit of scaffolding.

He didn’t answer her greeting, just crossed his arms.

“What were you doing up there? You know it’s not safe. And you –” he turned to Seb. “You should know better.”

“It was my idea!” Ari protested.

“And if anything happens to you, who do you think will get the blame?”

Ari swallowed her snide remark. She hadn’t considered this – mostly because she never assumed anything bad would happen. Sure, she was well aware that she could get away with certain things others might not, but she’d always played it in such a way that the both of them were let off easy. She looked at Seb, who was staring at the ground, knowing it was true without wanting to acknowledge it.

Pete knelt down to be at a level height with her.

“Look… I consider your father to be a great friend, but no one wants to be at the receiving end of his ire.”

She wasn’t sure what that word meant, but assumed it couldn’t be anything good.

“You can’t play in such dangerous places anymore.”

“My father says danger is part of a pirate’s life.”

Pete smiled.

“You’re not a pirate, though.”

“Not yet,” she corrected him, crossing her arms and lifting her chin up.

“…Right.”

He got up, brushing some sawdust from his apron.

“I should get back to work. You guys better run along home now.”

“Fiiiine,” she sighed.

She turned to Seb.

“Let’s see if we can snag anything from the kitchen.”

“Alright.”

While underway, Ari considered her options. The kitchen would probably be the best way to get in unseen. Sneaking out of the house wasn’t especially hard, the issue was in the returning, when she would be met with a disappointed look and some form of punishment, ranging from doing extra chores to going straight to bed with no dinner. She would try to evade her mother for as long as possible, a game they’d been playing for quite some time now, and it wasn’t a game either of them could win.

It wasn’t that she disliked her mother: she could be sweet and caring if her patience wasn’t being tested. They were just very different. From what Ari understood, her mother preferred her old life, back when she wasn’t living amongst criminals. Her father had had a nice house and a respectable career in the Spanish navy before turning to piracy and bringing his family here. Ari barely remembered what their previous home had been like, only that boring people visited their house all the time and she was never allowed to run around. Her mother – the one hosting the boring people – had realised that finding a new circle of friends was quite difficult. She had always hated being on English soil and wasn’t afraid to show it. Her father, on the other hand, had grown practically indifferent towards nationalities or kings. “What does it matter,” he would say, “when either of them would hang us, given the chance? To them, we’re not English or Spanish; we’re criminals foremost.” Most people he talked to would find it hard to disagree with that statement.

Still she had learned that, apart from their little port town, most of the people living on the island were, in fact, not criminals. They were regular people who just had to accept that there were pirates living here now. Whenever they visited another town, she was always surprised at how different things looked there. Cleaner, more organised – but it never looked like anything happened there at all. Over here, she was having much more fun: there was something exciting happening almost every week, although this excitement could also easily turn into danger. Just a month ago her and Seb had almost ended up in a scuffle between men of two different crews, when all they’d been doing was play on the road. But so far they’d never been in any real danger.

“I think the coast is clear,” she whispered, peering at the house from the bushes.

They snuck in, filled their pockets with bread and cheese, and headed out again. No need to stay any longer and risk being caught. Although her mother was usually fine with Seb coming over, he would definitely not be allowed to stay when there was a punishment to be dealt out. Instead, they just lay in the grass, looking at the clouds passing overhead.

“What will we do tomorrow?” she asked, mouth full of bread.

“Work,” Seb sighed.

“Again?”

“It’s something you’re supposed to do every day, you know?” he grinned.

“Yeah, and it sucks! I can’t wait to leave,” she pouted.

“How about this: you work for me, and I’ll sit through your lessons.”

She sat up, studying his face closely.

“You’re going to need a wig,” she concluded.

“I think I’m going to need a little more than that,” he laughed.

“Nah, just a wig,” she shrugged. “And I will get a hat.”

“I don’t see how this could possibly go wrong.”

“A fool proof plan.”

She fell back down in the grass.

“Dad will be back any day now. And when he is, I’m going to ask him.”

“You think he’ll say yes?”

She could tell from his voice that Seb wasn’t exactly convinced.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “He’ll probably say we’re too young and it’s too dangerous, or something.”

It was what he had said the last time she’d asked, at least. But she knew that eventually he wanted her with him. Why else would he be so focused on teaching her how to sail, and making sure she was educated even though she was a girl? Her mother might not understand her at all, but he did. And she wanted nothing more than to make him proud. But most of all, she wanted him to come home.

“We can always try a different ship,” Seb suggested.

“In that case I’m really going to need that hat. You see? This is a great plan – I need to practice.”

Seb raised an eyebrow.

“Practice wearing a hat?”

“Pretending to be a boy,” she laughed, shoving him for teasing her.

“May I suggest a haircut?” he grinned.

“Not before we’re certain to leave. My mother would kill me.”

“She will still do that whenever you get back.”

“Probably,” she shrugged. “But by then I will have my cut of the bounty. And also a sword.”

“Oh yeah? What are you going to do with that?”

She jumped up, pulling the wooden sword out from under her belt and pointing it at him.

“Why don’t I show you?”

Seb rolled over, drawing his own sword while getting up in one fluid motion.

“Think you can take me, Herrero?”

“With my eyes closed, Hastings!”

He held out his hands in an inviting gesture.

Not wanting to get lost immediately, he followed the tracks for now. The crelor must be long gone, but it wasn’t what he was here for. He was here to get some answers. Recent events had been keeping him up at night: his father; the hunters; the Fae – there was some piece of the puzzle he couldn’t figure out. And since he couldn’t find an answer to what he really wanted to know, he had set his sights on solving the things he could, and perhaps put his mind at ease. If he could figure out why the crelor was here, he could perhaps get a better estimate on how much longer his father planned to stick around. After all, it would be better for all parties if he just left.

As he walked underneath the trees, he started to realise what exactly was so different about this place. His senses were heightened, even more so than usual, as if his wolf side was closer to the surface. He felt it in his bones, in his muscles, like he did just before the full moon. It would make sense, considering werewolf abilities were Fae in nature, probably once having originated as some form of curse. It was why he had considered that perhaps they would be willing to talk to him, or at least more so than to a regular human.

Of course, he’d first tried to get his answers elsewhere, but had been surprised to learn that neither Dai nor the Society had any kind of direct contact with the Fae. And why would they, if the only thing they had in common was magic –and not even compatible magic for that matter. Enveryn didn’t work very well in here, resulting in a kind of quiet his mind did not reach very often. It was refreshing, in a way. Inversely, Fae magic had some issues Downtown. Jack didn’t know the specifics of it, but he hadn’t been able to transform at all there – even though that was more for the lack of a moon than anything else. He hadn’t been able to master transforming without its influence yet, but felt as if he tried it here he might just pull it off – only that was not what he was here for. Instead he shrugged off the thought and focused on his senses, to make sure any Fae that were near wouldn’t be able to sneak up on him.

The forest was eerily quiet, the only thing he heard being the sound of his own footsteps. There were no animals rustling in the underbrush, not even a breeze playing with the leaves. For a place so connected to nature and life, it felt extremely unnatural, like the entire forest was holding its breath, waiting for him to pass. He started to wonder if that was the case: the portal had been breached by outsiders for the third time by now, surely they would have already noticed? Had they been watching him since his arrival?

He stopped in his tracks, staying perfectly still while listening intently. He again realised he didn’t really have a plan. All of his knowledge about this place came through Chris, and even he had only been here twice. He needed to find someone to talk to, but where would he even go? He didn’t know where the Fae actually lived, so he figured his options would be to either wander around until he’d found one, or to let them come to him – and that couldn’t be so hard if they were already watching him, could it?

“Hello?” he called out, not sure to whom in particular. “I’m here to talk!”

A sudden breeze rustled the nearby leaves.

“This is not your place, wolf,” a voice whispered, carried by it.

“I’m not your enemy!” Jack called out into the nothingness, not sure in which direction to turn.

“Are you so sure?” the voice answered. “Enemies have arrived through this portal.”

“That’s why I’m here! I need to know what they’re tracking. I need to know why the crelor is here.”

Jack spun around as a shadow loomed over him. He’d heard no movement, but the fairy was right beside him now. They were tall; much taller than him, not even counting the antlers on their head. They had long, grey limbs, with dark vines snaking across their body.

“You’ve seen it, then?” they asked, studying him intensely with dark, shimmering eyes.

“Not personally,” Jack admitted. “One of the hunters has been tracking it over a great distance. Now he’s followed it here, and it makes me nervous.”

“Why?” the fairy asked. “You are familiar with this hunter? How do you know about his plans?”

“It’s… complicated,” Jack sighed.

A grin appeared on the fairy’s face, a half-moon of sharp teeth that stretched just a little too wide. A reminder to Jack as to what exactly he was dealing with here.

“My favourite kind,” they smiled.

Jack realised they were waiting for him to continue, and took a nervous breath while trying to ascertain whether the two of them were alone or being watched. His head remained unhelpful and his senses didn’t tell him anything was off – or at least, not more so than before. Nothing in this place seemed to make sense.

“I have a lot of connections,” he started. “With the Naturals, the demons, even with the hunters – or, only one hunter, really. He’s how I found the other one.”

He shrugged, attempting to grin.

“Well… technically we already met before that, when he tried to shoot me full of silver.”

Jack paused, realising he was rambling.

“Looks like he missed,” the fairy remarked dryly. “Lucky you.”

“Lucky me,” Jack agreed, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans.

The fairy observed him for a moment, their eyes seeming to look straight through him, trying to pry away at his secrets, trying to figure out the real reason for his intrusion. The truth was, he wasn’t so sure himself.

“This hunter, he concerns you so much that you would risk coming here?”

“I have a terrible sense of self-preservation,” Jack grinned, more successfully this time.

“Evidently.”

The fairy reached out, placing a long finger under his chin and lifting it up in order to study his face better.

“Did you think that simply because there is Fae blood running through your veins, you could just walk in here and make demands?”

Demands? He was just here to ask a question – in exchange for payment, even, since he’d already suspected that was how it worked. It was how it worked with demons, at least. Discussing the price to be paid was where things got tricky, usually.

He slowly raised his hands in a submissive gesture.

“Of course not. I’m not here to make demands, but perhaps there could be an exchange.”

The fairy lowered their hand.

“What kind of exchange?”

Jack took a step back, rubbing the spot where they’d touched him. It felt strangely numb. He cleared his throat.

“This hunter, he claims to know a lot about the Fae. Calls himself an expert. I don’t suppose he earned that title by being exceptionally friendly. I think it would be in both our best interests if he weren’t to stick around for very long.”

“You wish to kill him?”

Jack’s heart skipped a beat at the suggestion. Killing his father. It was not that he hadn’t considered it himself sometimes, but it had always been some angry, irrational part of him doing the talking. A vague threat, never a serious proposal such as this. Not even mentioning the question whether he’d be able to do it. He’d simply imagined things to go back to the way they were: Ben would leave to cause problems elsewhere and none of them would know or care what he was up to.

“Killing would be a… tricky option,” Jack started, still piecing together his answer in his mind. “It could attract unwanted attention from the other hunters. They know he’s here, that he’s currently looking into the Fae. If he were to disappear, or be found dead, the place will be crawling with hunters looking for revenge soon enough. I can imagine that’s not what you want. I know I don’t.”

The fairy nodded in agreement.

“Ideally the suspicion would need to be guided away from the Fae,” they said, looking at Jack again intently.

Jack immediately grasped their meaning. This would be the price he had to pay for the information.

“Not exactly what I had in mind,” he said quickly. “I simply wanted him gone from this place, to move on. Remove suspicion – and the hunters’ gaze – from everyone.”

“You would let him leave to cause trouble elsewhere?” the fairy asked, clearly not pleased. “A rather selfish point of view for someone claiming to be concerned with the safety of others, don’t you think?”

“Look. He’s known to travel around, which means he’s bound to be by himself at some point. If anything were to happen to him then, it’s hard to put the blame on anyone. Might be a while before they even find out.”

“…Which means a smaller chance of retaliation.”

The fairy seemed to consider their options, and took a moment before they spoke again.

“If we were to agree on this, how would you go about it?”

“I’m not sure,” Jack confessed. “I don’t have the necessary information. Yet.”

He held up a hand in an inviting gesture.

“Perhaps we could exchange what we know, and I’ll figure out where to go from there. If I knew more about the crelor and its purpose, I might be able to piece together his plans.”

“There’s a lot of uncertainty in this plan of yours,” the fairy observed.

“You’re right,” Jack sighed. “I know I’m not giving you much reason to agree with me. Truth is, I didn’t know where else to go. None of my usual contacts were of any use, no one could tell me anything. And still this guy is keeping me up at night.”

“You’re personally involved.”

It was a statement, not a question, leading Jack to wonder exactly how much information the fairy had been able to glean simply from observing him. Or perhaps they were reading his mind somehow – was that a thing they could do? He didn’t believe so, but what did he know, exactly?

“He tried to kill me, that night. But that’s not all. I can feel there’s something… wrong with him, somehow.”

It wasn’t a lie. It had taken Jack some time to realise, his anger and adrenaline having had the upper hand during their meeting, but there was something not right. He didn’t quite know how to put it into words, and therefore hadn’t bothered mentioning it to Chris, but something had felt off during their meeting, and he’d felt it again just now when detecting his scent.

The fairy must know what he was talking about, since they nodded, for the first time appearing a little less distant.

“We’ve noticed it, too. He must have some way of avoiding our detection. We only found out he was here in the first place because he brought a younger hunter along.”

They paused a moment.

“That is how you knew to come here,” they realised.

“I have my connections,” Jack shrugged.

He would have to stay vague about the extent of those connections, at least for now.

“Having a way to go unnoticed here would explain how he came to be a Fae-expert,” Jack observed. “He would have had plenty of opportunity to gather information.”

“He may truly be as dangerous to us as you claim him to be,” the fairy considered.

They thought for a moment, then extended a hand.

“Very well, let us exchange what we know.”

Jack let out a sigh of relief, which quickly turned into a grunt as he took the fairy’s hand and his body responded in much the same way as it would to a beam of moonlight.

“Oh, I see,” he managed to utter, gasping for breath while trying to will his bones back into place. “So this is how you seal deals.”

“I’m simply calling on the energy that binds us; I’d hardly call it a deal.”

The fairy grinned as he moved a hand to his jaw and pushed until he felt the familiar pop. His body didn’t feel quite right but he decided to leave it be for now: there were more important things to worry about.

“You’re strong,” the fairy remarked, still observing him.

“So I’ve been told,” Jack attempted to grin, ignoring how much it hurt.

“But you lack experience,” they continued, rather bluntly.

“I- I suppose you’re right,” he admitted, assuming they meant experience with changing his body at will. So far, he’d put most of his focus into not changing, doing the opposite would only be inviting trouble. What if he got stuck?

He noticed the fairy was staring at him, unmoving.

“Well?”

“…Right.”

Jack gave a brief summary of what he had learned, without mentioning his exact personal ties to either Chris or Ben: the man they were dealing with was a self-acclaimed Fae expert, travelling with a companion, researching the Fae world and sharing that research with whatever hunters crossed his path. He had been operating in Germany before following the crelor all the way back here: once his home town. Jack made sure to mention this fact, since his familiarity with the terrain was an extra threat they would need to know about. Then he described his ties to the fanatics way-back-when – not that he thought the Fae would care much about the distinction, since it concerned mostly Naturals. Even a more moderate hunter like Chris would still be a threat to the Fae. He only did it to make him sound more ruthless.

He paused for a moment, looking down at his hands, only now noticing they were vaguely claw-like, the nails thick and pointy. He flexed his fingers a couple of times before continuing.

“It’s strange, though: according to my source, he’s not planning to hurt the crelor. It’s almost… uncharacteristic, considering his history.”

“He must know the true purpose of the crelor, then,” the fairy theorised.

Judging by what Chris told him, he really didn’t, but perhaps he had been keeping information to himself.

“Is it a threat to you?”

The fairy shook their head.

“No, no. Quite the opposite: you could say it’s our salvation.”

Jack furrowed his brow.

“In that case I don’t think he’s aware of it. Saving the Fae couldn’t possibly be his goal.”

The fairy considered this, then gestured at the forest surrounding them.

“Sometimes actions can have consequences that will weigh heavier than the action itself. These worlds we live in exist in a precarious balance, and to keep it, not every action we take can be for our own personal gain or preference. We constantly have to think about the bigger picture.”

Jack nodded. He was all too familiar with this principle. It was why demons or Naturals couldn’t just use magic in any way they pleased; why they had to keep their existence hidden from humans – the risk was just too great.

“So, what you’re saying is: if he is aware of its purpose, he must believe that the balance, and therefore humans, will be safer when the Fae world is… well, not in trouble, I guess. Or he’s clueless and just going to wait and see–”

Jack thought a moment before continuing.

“…how is it the crelor will help exactly?”

The fairy smiled, presumably thinking his rambling was entertaining.

“How much do you know about the Nexus?”

“Nothing,” Jack had to admit.

He might have heard the term once or twice but couldn’t even remember in what context. Tharryn loved to throw words around that sounded just like that, but he didn’t speak about the Fae or their world very often.

“The Nexus is a giant tree. It’s an important part of our world,” the fairy started to explain, putting their hand against a nearby tree as if caressing it. “Much like this tree absorbs nutrients through its roots and distributes them to every part of itself, so does the Nexus distribute energy towards wherever it’s needed. Every plant or tree is connected to it; and so are we.”

They gestured at the vines curling down from their legs, digging into the earth beneath their feet.

“Even you – although its grip on you is only strong enough during the full moon. But you can feel it, can’t you? Its pull?”

Jack nodded, although he couldn’t say for certain whether what he felt was caused by a tree. There was something, for sure. The fairy may have kick-started his change earlier, but even before that he could feel it smouldering inside, something just beneath his skin, ready to be let out. And he may have let it slip a little since, judging by how itchy he felt underneath his clothes. His fur must be growing in. Great – it always looked patchy and horrible at first. He suddenly wondered if he would end up fully transformed if he only just stayed here long enough. Perhaps he should try a little harder to push it down if he wanted to finish this conversation. But at the same time he found fighting it to be very difficult. This place was doing something to him, pulling him in, and he wasn’t ready for it.

“I feel it,” he confirmed. “But the wolf feels different in this place. Stronger, but also… erratic?”

“The Nexus is dying,” the fairy said matter-of-factly, like this would explain everything. “It’s reaching out in desperation, grasping at whatever it can find. You aren’t attuned to its voice, but if you were, you would hear its cries.”

“The crelor is hearing them, too,” Jack realised.

The fairy nodded.

“As crelors maintain the balance, they are deeply connected to the energy flow, so much that they can tell when something is off hundreds of miles away. That’s how interconnected the different Nexuses are. Unfortunately, the nearest crelor was still very, very far away. The delay hasn’t done the Nexus much good.”

“How long does it have? And what would happen if it died?”

“It doesn’t have long, but now that the crelor is here, I’m optimistic about its chances. We can bridge the gap until it is restored.”

The fairy sighed.

“Its death would be catastrophic. Without the Nexus, life would become very difficult around here. We would lose our connection to each other. And it won’t be as easy to find the energy to sustain ourselves and our surroundings: we would need to venture to earth more often.”

“To draw in humans for their energy,” Jack realised.

“We would be putting ourselves at risk.”

That was one way to think about it, Jack thought, but was wise enough to keep his mouth shut about it. He wasn’t planning to add himself to the list of people at risk – but he also realised that perhaps it was a little late for that.

“What caused the Nexus to get sick in the first place?” he asked.

“We’re not sure. Sometimes humans are to blame, sometimes the energies just shift. Change is inevitable in nature. But I wouldn’t be surprised if the recent earthquakes had something to do with it.”

So the local population weren’t the only ones plagued by them, Jack thought. He wondered how much the Fae knew or understood about what had been causing them – whether they realised the humans were at fault.

“And you’re sure the crelor will be able to fix it?”

“If it can’t, nothing can,” the fairy sighed. “Healing is what they do. It’s their purpose.”

“What about after it’s done? Will it walk all the way back to where it came from? Or is it going to stick around and live here now?”

Jack was hoping it would leave, as it likely meant his father would follow suit.

“Oh, honey – it will not be doing much after it’s completed its task, I’m afraid.”

“…Oh.”

That changed the situation. Jack wasn’t sure in what way, but the crelor not leaving sure removed the easiest solution to his problem from the board entirely.

“That’s… unfortunate,” he said, truthfully. “For it to cross such a distance only to die.”

“That’s its purpose,” the fairy shrugged. “And besides, nothing ever truly dies. Its energy will be absorbed by the Nexus, and it will live on as a part of it.”

“I see.”

He thought for a moment, scratching the itchy fur on his arm – and promptly leaving deep scratch marks since he’d already forgotten about his claws.

“How bad would it be if the hunter discovered the Nexus’ location? The crelor will likely lead him straight to it.”

“It depends. If he truly knows about the purpose of the crelor, and hasn’t acted yet, I don’t expect him to be much of a threat to it. If it is as you say, and he is merely curious, the outcome is less easy to predict.”

“All I know is that he and his partner seemed fascinated by its healing abilities, and that this isn’t the first crelor they’ve studied. But that doesn’t mean he has seen it heal a Nexus before. I can’t imagine they’re on the brink of death very often.”

“Whatever his intentions with it, the Nexus will never allow him to get close to it. It’s capable of defending itself, or calling others to its aid.”

A worried look showed on the fairy’s face.

“After it’s properly healed, I mean.”

Jack crossed his arms, mostly to stop himself from scratching any further.

“What about his ability to hide himself? Would it be strong enough to fool the Nexus?”

“I can’t imagine it would,” the fairy contemplated. “It’s very perceptive, even in its current state. And it has been under close watch ever since we discovered its illness.”

Jack nodded.

“If any Nexus would attack him on sight, and presuming he has encountered them before, he would already know to avoid it – otherwise, what kind of Fae expert would he be?” he grinned.

“The kind that likes to get himself in trouble? A concept you seem to be familiar with.”

Even though it was unintentional, the comparison to his father still stung. Suddenly, Jack doubted whether he truly had been able to hide the truth about his relation to the hunter, or if the fairy had already figured it out. Either way, bringing it up was going to make sure of it, so he decided to keep avoiding the topic for now.

“Am I in trouble?” Jack grinned.

As he did, he realised the pain in his jaw had gotten worse, meaning it had shifted even further. He’d been focusing most of his efforts on keeping it from changing, knowing that if he wanted to talk himself out of here, he would have to be able to… well, talk. Although he was fairly certain the fairy would understand wolfish, it would certainly not make it easier for him to express himself.

“Depends on how you look at it,” they smiled, observing him with that look he couldn’t quite place.

Hungry, he realised, and clumsily took a step back. His legs felt like jelly and his feet fit uncomfortably in his shoes. They must be changing too, he figured.

He was about to ask what they were doing to him, when they spoke first.

“What are you planning to do about the hunter?”

“I…”

“You said you needed more information. I have given it to you. Now how are you going to make him go away?”

The fairy had crossed the distance between them, getting uncomfortably close.

“I haven’t quite worked it out yet,” Jack said quickly. “But I will do it, I swear!”

He took another step back, but impacted with something solid; a tree blocked his path. Had there been a tree there before? He couldn’t remember.

“I’ll need to wait until after the Nexus is healed. He wouldn’t let anything diverge his attention from the crelor until then.”

“How are you so sure he won’t just acquire a new fascination in the form of the Nexus?”

“I don’t,” Jack admitted. “But I will make him leave, even if I’ll have to make him chase me to do it.”

“Hmm.”

Jack attempted a smile.

“I’d prefer something that’s a little safer for me, of course. But if we play this right, he will never be a threat to us again.”

The fairy leaned in uncomfortably close again.

“Us? There is no “us”. You barely have a plan, and still you expect me to just let you leave here?”

“B-but we made a deal?”

“A deal pertaining the exchange of information, and nothing else,” the fairy grinned. “What is to stop me from taking control of you…”

They clenched their fist and Jack felt another wave of pain and nausea pass through him. Now he was glad to have the tree there to support him.

“…and using you to simply wipe him out right now? The hunters would be so busy with you they’d never even cast us another look.”

They smiled.

“It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

Jack didn’t find that very hard to believe at all. He needed to make sure he wouldn’t be added to that list.

“I-I could be of use to you!” he blurted out. “We could work together, in the future!”

“And what kind of services would you have to offer?” the fairy mused, intrigued now.

Jack gasped for air when they released their grip and the pain subsided. Most of his body felt wrong now, like his bones were in the wrong places. A familiar feeling, but usually it would be over quicker.

“I was thinking, earlier…”

He cleared his throat. His voice had started to sound raspy – he wouldn’t have long. This was not going well.

“I was trying to contact you, or at least find out how to do so. As I’ve mentioned, I have a lot of connections. But I noticed you guys don’t really talk to any of them. It’s like you’re all avoiding each other.”

“And with good reason.”

Their eyes narrowed as they loomed over him threateningly, waiting for him to continue.

“That’s fair,” Jack nodded. “You’re doing your thing, they’re doing theirs. But we all have to deal with hunters. Or regular humans, even. Wouldn’t it be convenient to have this kind of contact, in case it’s needed? I have ties to both of your worlds: I could play that role.”

“You would act as some sort of… negotiator? I’d hardly qualify you as an objective third party – or a good negotiator, for that matter.”

“Well, I’m not claiming to be,” Jack shrugged, knowing better than to argue the matter. “I’d simply be some kind of messenger. If you need anything, I’ll know the correct person to turn to. I could arrange a meeting.”

“Again: you would expect me to simply trust you? These forces you work for, we are not friends. Never have been. You may have ties to both worlds – but they own you. Any meeting you provide, I will assume to be a trap.”

“I understand,” Jack nodded. “I’m not Fae. I know nothing about your world, about the Nexus. I’m barely even connected to it. I wouldn’t trust me either. As far as you know, I’m just trying to talk myself out of here.”

“…Is that not what you’re doing?”

“Well, it’s starting to get a little harder,” he admitted, his voice low and gravelly. “Impressive, how you did that.”

He gestured vaguely at his body, taking a moment to assess the state of it. His limbs were in all kinds of odd angles, his spine felt like it was on fire. Without the tree, he would have collapsed onto the ground, his shifting muscles no longer able to support him. But if he gave in now, it meant the fairy had won. With a last shred of willpower he forced his body to behave, to stand up a little straighter.

“I’ll admit, I had expected this to be over by now.”

The fairy reached for him, and Jack braced himself for another wave, but to his surprise they simply caressed his face with long fingers.

“Stop fighting it,” they said softly.

“That’s what you want, don’t you? Get me stuck like this? Control me?”

They smiled, entertained by the idea.

“For weaker creatures: yes. It’s very enjoyable. But you’ve shown a certain degree of control regarding your transformation. You could feel that something was not right about the Nexus without ever having heard of it. You may be more in touch with your Fae side than you realise.”

“So? You’re going to let me go?” Jack suggested.

“The trick to gaining control,” they continued, pretending to not have heard him. “real control, is to realise the wolf is not your enemy, but a part of yourself. That you are both, at the same time, no matter what shape you’re in.”

“I’m well aware,” Jack growled.

The fairy cocked their head.

“Are you? Seems to me like all you know how to do is push it away.”

“Because I need to be human right now, to talk to you.”

The fairy laughed; a strange, tittering sound.

“This is the last place you’d be expected to be human. This is the wolf’s territory. Your body knows that, but you’re not listening to it. You’re doing this to yourself.”

“You started it!” Jack protested.

“I just jabbed at you. You decided to twist the knife. And to just… keep… twisting it.”

Their finger traced down across his shoulder, his chest, his stomach, until Jack batted their hand away with a growl. They simply smiled.

“You believe that letting go is giving up control, to let something else take over. But…”

“But the wolf is still me,” Jack finished their sentence. “I know that. It’s one of the first things you learn as a werewolf. Being in control. Trusting your instincts. Well, right now my instincts are telling me this place is sketchy and I want to get out.”

“Why are you so convinced that letting go will turn you into a wolf?”

“Have you seen me?!”

It came out more as a growl than actual words, his anger allowing his grip on humanity to slip away further.

“I see someone who’s torturing himself, unable to find a balance between incompatible energies inside. Who’s desperately holding on to something that’s out of reach and utterly ineffective in this place. You are so used to your magic being at your fingertips you’re not even realising you’re using it as a crutch, putting your body through whatever it is you’re doing in a futile attempt to regain it. You may have accepted the wolf, but you’ve also put it away in its designated space, only to be taken out when needed, as to not interfere with your precious magic.”

They took a step back, their eyes on him.

“Am I seeing you correctly?”

Jack didn’t know what to say – and also wasn’t so sure if he was even still capable. He hadn’t expected this analysis, and moreover, hadn’t expected them to be right. Hell, he hadn’t even realised they were right until a moment ago. Sure, he’d accepted the fact that he’d have to spend one night a month running around the forest – he even enjoyed it thoroughly. He had learned to rely on the wolf’s senses, to trust its instincts, in both of his forms. When he was angry, he felt it claw its way to the surface – but he always pushed it back down. You are not needed, he would think. And of course: in most cases letting the wolf out would be a terrible decision indeed. But in cases where perhaps it wouldn’t be, he’d always gone with his magic instead. People counted on him being able to use his magic. Dai counted on him. His head was already unpredictable to begin with, he couldn’t let people down by being unavailable on top of that. Sure, the idea of getting stuck while attempting to transform scared him, but the idea of his magic being out of his reach during this time scared him even more.

He slumped against the tree, suddenly feeling very tired. At the moment, he didn’t care what was going to happen. The Fae could take him, for all he cared.

“That’s more like it.”

The fairy knelt beside him, the softness having returned to their voice.

Jack realised his body had stopped protesting, his bones having shifted back into a position where they didn’t hurt. He wasn’t quite human, but felt like himself nevertheless. Some new version of him. His hands had returned to their earlier, claw-like state, a soft down covering the backs of them. His teeth were sharp, his canines more prominent than usual, but the shape of his face felt mostly human. While most of his shape had reverted back to human, his tail had remained – but strangely it felt like it belonged there, instead of something alien that the rest of his body still had to catch up with, like it had when he’d changed previously.

He couldn’t reach his magic – he hadn’t been able to since he’d set foot in here, but in some way he just hadn’t been able to let go of it. Surprisingly, even now his head wasn’t quiet: in the back of his mind he could hear a low rumble, a deep, vibrating hum that rose and fell like a breath.

He looked around.

“What’s that noise? Where does it come from?”

The fairy looked at him incredulously.

“The Nexus? You can hear it?”

“I think so?”

Jack cocked his head.

“Could also be an earthquake.”

“That’s it, alright.”

They smiled, but not as deviously as before. This appeared to be a genuine smile – if such a thing was possible for a creature with this many teeth. Jack noticed small plants started to sprout around where they were sitting, tiny little stems and leaves. He wondered if it meant they were letting their guard down.

“Why can I suddenly hear it now?”

“It means you’re connecting to your Fae side.”

“…Is that good or bad?”

“That’s up to you to decide,” they shrugged, touching one of the sprouts, which started to bloom. “I’d say it’s a good thing, but I might be a tad biased.”

“Does it mean you’ll trust me more?”

“It’s a start. It means I’ll allow you to leave, at least.”

“That’s enough – for now.”

Jack sat for a moment, drawing lines into the earth to test the sharpness of his claws. It was strange, being in this state without feeling the pressure of transformation.

“Were you really going to take control of me, if you’d decided you didn’t like me?”

The fairy looked up.

“I don’t like you. And yes, I was going to – in fact I’d already started, when I realised just how strong your so-called “connections” were.”

“What do you mean?”

“…You don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?”

Jack felt a little spike of panic. Was there something he didn’t know?”

“They own you, you moron. If I laid a finger on you, your boss would have my head.”

“Oh, that.”

This was a fact he was well aware of. What he didn’t know was that the Fae could tell, as if his mind was a roped-off area indicated “off-limits”. Who else would be able to tell? And would it mean he’d be virtually untouchable? Or would it pull attention to him, like wearing a neon sign saying “please use me as leverage” in bright, flashing letters? And would Dai even care enough if something did happen to him? Perhaps it was better not to test that hypothesis.

“So what you’re saying is, you couldn’t have stopped me from walking out of here regardless, whether you “liked” me or not?”

“Stop assuming I like you. If I did, it would be in the way someone likes a puppy: because it’s endearing and a little helpless.”

Jack opened his mouth to protest, but decided against it.

“And there are plenty of ways I could have kept you here. Occasionally, people just get lost and never find their way out. Truly tragic.”

“That way you’d be stuck with me, though.”

“Exactly why I’ve decided to let you go,” they responded dryly.

They focused their attention on another sprout blooming at their touch.

“And perhaps the things you were saying earlier weren’t complete nonsense,” they continued, without looking up. “While I don’t see us collaborating with demons – and especially with hunters – anytime soon, perhaps it would be good to have some kind of contact in place.”

“Really?”

He’d just been saying things, trying to talk himself out of a situation, like he always did. Usually his chatter was merely a way to stall what was coming, while his mind worked full force to find an actual solution, or perhaps a weak spot – a tactic he wasn’t able to employ here. Had this contributed to the battle he’d apparently been fighting against himself? It was possible; they did say he used his magic as a crutch without realising it.

They nodded.

“Besides, who else is going to guide you through what’s to come?”

“What’s to…? What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll see,” they smiled mysteriously.

Jack did not like the implications made here. Was something going to happen that they knew about and he didn’t? Did it have anything to do with him, or the whole crelor business? And perhaps the most frightening of all: had they managed to do something to him after all?

“And since I can tell you’re a nosy little brat,” the fairy observed, continuing to tend to their plant. “I know sooner or later you’re going to come wandering into a portal again, risking your life and making a complete fool out of yourself in the process.”

Jack wanted to protest, but they held up a finger to shush him.

“Come closer,” they gestured.

To his surprise, Jack found he couldn’t refuse: something tugged on his chest like a little hook had been attached to it. Whatever magic they had tried to unleash on him earlier clearly hadn’t been completely ineffective.

As he scooted within their reach, the fairy broke the stem of the plant with a loud snap.

“Hold still for a moment.”

They touched a finger under his chin and angled his head slightly. They reached out with their other hand, two pointy fingers taking hold of his ear – his distinctly non-human ear, which felt a little odd.

“Ow!”

There was a stabbing pain, followed by a digging sensation as something was pushed through the hole that had just been made. The fairy fumbled for a second, then gave his ear a playful tug that made him wince.

“All done!”

Jack reached for it, feeling something small and solid just below the pointy tip of his wolf-ear. It was a small loop, much like the piercing he wore through his other ear, but presumably made of wood instead of metal.

His hand came away with a trickle of blood, and he looked from it back to the fairy.

“Did you just pierce my ear? You do know there’s already a hole right there, ready to go?”

“That one was taken,” they shrugged.

“Piercings can be removed!”

They smiled.

“Don’t worry, this one can’t.”

He stared at them, his hand reaching for the earring again. It felt smooth; he couldn’t detect any sort of clasp. Strangely enough it was also slightly warm, but he could be imagining it. What he was sure of, was that it wasn’t just a regular piece of wood. It seemed to hum in the same frequency as the one in the back of his mind.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to lay a hand on me,” he said. “I don’t think my boss will be happy about that.”

“I don’t think he’d be happy to know you’re playing at diplomacy without his knowledge or permission, either,” they smiled. “It’s not exactly your strong suit.”

“Well, I won’t get the chance to practice if he decides to see this as a provocation, as you laying claim to me somehow.”

“A claim? Oh no, child. It’s a charm of protection. It will let other Fae know you are not to be toyed with. Not all of them will be able to detect your… status like I did.”

“Why, ‘cause they’re not as strong as you?”

He figured that if they were potentially going to be working together, he might as well ask. It was important to know who or what you were dealing with.

“It’s not that they’re weak, it’s that a lot of them won’t hesitate. Anyone who wanders in here is fair game to them. Yes, even werewolves.”

“Then what made you act differently? Curiosity?”

“Responsibility. Our safety was on the line. I had been keeping an eye on the portal ever since we discovered the breach, hoping to learn more.”

“It’s your task to keep everyone safe?” Jack asked, fiddling with his new piercing. “Does that mean you’re some kind of leader?”

The fairy nodded.

“We call it the Root: one amongst us who shares a special bond with the Nexus, and guides us towards the right path. The task has fallen to me ever since our last Root got taken from us.”

They stared into the distance, leading Jack to believe the memory was still fresh.

“This happened recently?”

They focused their attention on a new flower, a different kind from the rest; this one was pure white.

“We were trying to figure out ways to restore the Nexus. The process asked a lot of them; they didn’t stand a chance against the hunter…”

They picked the flower and wove it into their vines, where it started to softly glow.

“The Nexus picked me as their successor, but we deemed it too weak to start the initiation process.”

They sighed.

“I feel like I’m just grasping at straws.”

Jack noticed their entire demeanour had changed during the last couple of minutes. Earlier they’d been on guard, keeping a close eye on his every movement, ready to react to any provocations. After they’d sat down their posture had already been more relaxed – but now they were slumped down, like they were very tired. It was almost as if marking him had put them at ease, like they believed he was no longer a threat. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it, but he figured that as long as he didn’t actively go against them, he’d be fine for now. He’d figure the rest out later.

“Having people depend on you can be tough,” he agreed.

“Are you speaking from experience?” they asked.

It seemed like Jack wasn’t the only one probing for answers today.

“No, no, I’m not the boss of anything,” he grinned. “But people expect a lot from my abilities, and I hate letting them down.”

“That much is obvious,” they remarked, gesturing at him. “There’s a lot going on in there.”

“Seems like we both have our issues to deal with. But I suppose we’ll need to deal with the hunter and the crelor first.”

The fairy nodded.

“The Nexus needs to be restored, if we want to be ready for any scenario.”

Jack observed them for a moment. Just a couple of minutes ago, “we” had been a forbidden word, now they were using it freely themselves.

“I will keep an eye on things from my side, and let you know if it looks like he’s making a move.”

He paused, thinking.

“…Just a few things. How exactly would I contact you? And how would I know if he’s close when I don’t actually know where the Nexus is?”

They reached out and plucked some berries – Jack could have sworn they hadn’t been there a moment ago – and placed them into his hand.

“Crush these, and draw a circle. I will be able to hear you.”

This was very different from the magic he was used to, but Jack decided not to question them about it. If they said it worked, it probably would.

“As for the Nexus: I will leave you to figure that out for yourself,” they smiled sweetly. “It’s not that hard, if you tune in to your Fae side. Consider it a challenge.”

“…Alright.”

Jack didn’t have high hopes, but he would just have to try. After all, he hadn’t managed to hear the Nexus before, so he must be doing something right. And if all else failed, there was always his mind to fall back on. It would have to be a last resort, however, considering the fairy’s observations about his dependence on it.

“I should probably get going.”

He got up, keeping one eye on the fairy to see whether they would let him, but they seemed to allow it, as they promised.

“What about all this?” he asked, gesturing at his body. “Will it revert as soon as I get back?”

“You’re asking me?”

“…Right. I’ll just have to find out, then.”

He backed away, clumsily trying to put the berries in his pocket without squishing them.

“Uh… see you around.”

The fairy just sat there, looking at him with that grin that made him feel highly uncomfortable. He backed up further, almost tripping over a root, then turned his back to them hesitantly to be able to see where he was going.

“Good luck,” he heard a sugar-coated voice behind him.