"They eat people!" Pax was not asking. Vespasian knew the young Druid yelled it for attention and so he did not answer. He stared at the night's fire and thought briefly of the old woman and what she was doing. Pax leaned to him and seemed to wait to make sure Vespasian was paying attention. His mouth slid into a sly grin. "Did you eat people?"

"Whoa, Pax! What kind of question is that?" Hope nearly fell backward onto the icy dirt before rocking back to her hunched, easy posture. Vespasian could not tell if she was defending or mocking him. He did not care either.

"In all seriousness, Vespasian, what do you make of their chances against the Novissime?" Fenian's voice was reserved and as far as Vespasian could tell, he wanted an answer.

Vespasian liked the question, maybe too much, he knew. He looked to the Druid, Alexander, who gazed from across the fire at him with his off-putting eyes. They were green, as many eyes were, yet they seemed to have once been gray with only a swirl of green added later. Vespasian swore even a hint of purple showed in the right light. Many times he had caught himself staring at those strange eyes.

He looked to Howlen next, who was reclined on an elbow with his feet stretched toward the fire. His eyes were also on Vespasian. They were somehow cold, yet with a sincerity that both comforted and pierced Vespasian. Vespasian stared back at him, anxious yet still eager to tell the tale. He scooted forward, fiddled his thumbs and wove his fingers together, then took in a breath. He smiled at the scent of the smoke from the burning wood, he had always loved that smell, and readied his words.

"Did you hear the question?" Howlen's words were too direct; the question too obvious.

Vespasian nodded in a hurry.

"Then answer it."

"Uhm, they are dangerous." Vespasian knew he was not a child. He knew he had every right to say what he wanted, how he wanted, but something in Howlen's words stopped him. Howlen had not yelled. His voice was not nearly as harsh as Otto's or even the old woman's. It possessed a quality that sucked the spirit out of Vespasian and left him silent.

"Something is odd here." Alexander had risen from the fire and was staring out into the darkness. Even the closest linden trees were veiled in the black night. Vespasian looked at him, then back at Howlen. He did not know why, but Vespasian noticed the action as a sort of reflexive search for permission on what he should do next.

Howlen had been looking down, shoving the nail of his thumb into the near frozen dirt. He looked up, met Vespasian's eyes and said "Sorry." It was the most genuine word Vespasian had ever heard.

Alexander dropped to a knee with a suddenness that shattered the silent night. An arrow whized above his head and stuck in a linden tree with a thump.

Vespasian slinked into the darkness and crouched, hidden in a bush before he realized he had moved. He could see, in the yellow-orange light of the fire, Howlen and the Druids still remained in their positions around the fire.

"What do we have here?" A stranger stepped into the light with a menacing swagger. Behind him three more men moved to encircle the group. Vespasian eyed their fur clothing and heavy boots. Alans.

Pax stood and threw his arms out, as if greeting an old friend. "Hey guys! Glad you could make it! I'm Pax, the fearless leader, and these here are my servants. I had their tongues removed so they all talk funny. Go ahead! Ask them a question!"

The Alan closest to Pax lifted his ax and readied a deadly swing in response. Vespasian watched the Alan warrior inexplicably drop the ax and walk back into the darkness. Then, just as inexplicably, Pax followed him.

Vespasian saw Howlen start to stand. An Alan kicked him back down. Howlen lifted himself to his hands and knees while the strangers moved in the direction Pax and the Alan had walked. They mumbled something among themselves. Vespasian saw Howlen sit, resigned not to fight. He could not see Alexander. Pax and Fenian seemed too relaxed, as if they were oblivious to the entire situation.

Pax's scream of terror echoed from the darkness. Vespasian heard the three Alan warriors laugh. A moment later, the fourth Alan swaggered back into the light and picked up the ax he had dropped. He flipped it effortlessly in his hands with an oddly casual demeanor.

"Okay, okay, okay! Well, folks, I guess we will just take what-"

Vespasian saw the Alans' reactions first. He followed their stunned gaze to see the same Alan man return from the darkness a second time. The second man's left shoulder bore a slice from which a wave of blood poured down his arm and dripped onto the ground.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"What? What magic?" The first Alan, who had come so confidently, fumbled for words.

"He is obviously a Druid pretending to be me. Please, good sir, end him and let us be on our way!"

Vespasian watched one of the Alans draw a knife, approach the wounded man and sink the blade into his belly. He stabbed again, then again several times without hesitation until the man fell still.

Howlen scrambled to his feet while the Alans stood still, confused and stunned. Vespasian found himself taking a step back, but he knew the unknown of the darkness held more danger than the scene in front of him, so he stopped.

The Alans remained still. Their eyes were fixed on the butchered body.

Two leopards leapt from outside Vespasian's periphery and tore at two of the Alans' throats. The last Alan who had killed the wounded man with such ease turned his violence toward himself. He sunk his blade into his neck and repeated the stab with the same effortless malice as before.

Howlen had turned away from the scene, but its brutality was not what affected Vespasian. Vespasian puzzled at the magic of it. He had been convinced, only moments ago that no magic existed anymore and these Druids were simple people trying to convince themselves and everyone else of their powers. Where did the cats come from? Those men, were they possessed?

Vespasian's suspicions were confirmed when the two leopards transformed back into Hope and Fenian. The remaining Alan then changed back to Pax and Alexander stepped from the darkness.

They spoke, but the rush of excited nervousness overwhelmed Vespasian's hearing. He shook from the horror and considered running. His body, he noticed, had made its decision.

Vespasian crept backwards. He placed each step in the most tender, silent manner he could manage until the light of the fire was a small glow between the vertical streaks of darkness Vespasian knew were lindens. He bumped a tree, then as water he slid around it and continued backward.

His left foot slid back on to some other surface than the icy dirt and snow. Vespasian tapped it with his toe. It was hard. A rock? Vespasian surmised, but did not stop his steady creeping pace. Another step. It found nothing at all.

The absence of ground was too sudden. His body followed his foot and he tumbled down into the unknown darkness.

***

Howlen held back the vomit from the sight and stench of Hope and Fenian mauling the strangers once. Then he held it back a second time. He could not stop the third surge. At the edge of the firelight and darkness of the wilderness he fell to his knees and vomited until his forearms and hands were numb. His veins bulged and his face grew red. For a moment, he was overwhelmed, defeated. But he thought of Cassius and Jennifer and he resolved to continue.

He rose to his knees, whipped his face with the sleeve of his coat and examined the scene. Hope and Fenian were human again. The four Druids were speaking, but Howlen did not hear their words. He did not give more than a peripheral glance at the bodies, he couldn't. He had to focus on something else. Where's Vespasian?

Howlen stood, weak from exertion, and stumbled around the perimeter of the firelight. He knew he should call, but he could not speak. The darkness revealed nothing. As he strained his eyes he moved a foot toward the emptiness.

The brush of a knee high creature bolting past him nearly knocked Howlen off his feet. The creature was gone; disappeared into the night before Howlen could distinguish its shape.

"She went with the coyote. My idea, but who's counting." Pax swung an arm around Howlen's shoulders and spoke with an almost giddy pleasure. "These guys said stick with the snow leopard because they see better in the dark, but the dogs smell. You get it, H!" Pax raised a fist for Howlen to grab. Or hit. Or shake. Howlen did nothing.

"I found him! At least I hope it's him!" Hope's voice called from the darkness. "Yeah, it's him!"

Alexander and Fenian strode past Howlen and stepped into the darkness with a torch lit from the fire. Pax patted Howlen on the back and made an exaggerated gesture for him to follow next. An impulse to ask a question or demand answers rose, but Howlen had no questions and the Druids had seemingly found Vespasian. Howlen followed the light of Alexander's torch.

Howlen saw the yellow glow of the torch stop, then drop to the ground. He thought of the strangers and if there might be more, but Pax's playful shove from behind made him feel silly for stopping. "Go, go, go."

They reached the torch and found Alexander, Hope and Fenian crouched over a large open hole in the frozen ground.

"Are you alright?" Alexander shouted into the hole as Howlen looked over the edge. There was almost nothing, save for the slightest contrast of a strange, dim green light and the shadows it cast on a few of the rocks. A larger object casted a greater shadow. Howlen assumed that was Vespasian.

"Yes." The answer was simple, but Howlen appreciated the immense wave of relief it brought. He saw it in the Druids, too, and for a moment he felt he was not only happy, but happy with them.

"No way up, though." Fenian said.

"Do you see anything?" Alexander called.

There was no answer. Howlen saw the shape move in the darkness.

"I'll go see. Hope, come on." With a pop Fenian was a bat. He fluttered to the bottom and was himself again beside Vespasian. Howlen saw Hope shift and huff an annoyed breath, but either because no one acknowledged her small protest, or because the small fit had been insincere, she followed Fenian down into the cave.