Crow was quickly recruited to help cart away the bodies, his massive strength being of great use for such a task. There were more wounded than dead and less dead than he had originally thought, but there were far too many all the same. The deceased circus workers, many of which had no family, were being buried in a mass grave just outside the circus grounds whereas the bodies and wounded of the attendees were being returned to their families in the villages. Crow was glad he didn't have to do any of the sorting of the dead. All he had to do was carry them to be laid in rows for the families to find their loved ones and try not to look at any of their faces. He'd made the mistake of doing that, once, and had seen Snow's face in the dead man even though he knew it wasn't there. Not on the half-burned body of a portly older man.

But it didn't matter what he knew. His thoughts were of his brother and his mind was playing tricks on him.

As he lay down the body of the man, his back already aching, Crow wondered absently if he should be feeling anything. Horror and grief for the families that had lost the ones they loved, just as he had lost Snow? Guilty for not feeling it? But he didn't. And he couldn't help that. There was just... nothing. Even when he thought of his brother there was only a dull ache inside of his chest, not the overwhelming grief he had been feeling before.

The work was exhausting. When there weren't bodies to be removed, there were tents to be picked up, poles to be hauled away, creatures to be wrangled and captured again, and more information to be absorbed than he could handle.

'The Master wants us to move out by tomorrow,' one person said to him.

And then another: 'The lion escaped -- don't know where it went or if it harmed anyone.'

Apparently, one of the bears had escaped too, and the recently captured Helhest -- a three-legged horse generally associated with death and illness. More than a few people were saying the strange horse was to blame. On top of that, the workers were getting hungry and everything was in disarray. Since the Master had vanished inside of his tent, a few -- mostly the younger guardsmen -- were even looking to Crow for guidance on what to do but he had none to give them, not now.

Eventually -- Crow had long since given up worrying about what time it was or how much of it had passed -- La found him at the surviving water barrels, and she was looking as tired as he felt. She said nothing to him but with a long sigh leaned her head into his chest and wrapped her arms around him. He returned the gesture. They didn't speak but they didn't need to; they understood the pain of what had happened and right now an embrace was as much support as they had the energy to give one another.

After a few minutes that way, Crow removed himself from her embrace and offered her a cup of water. She accepted.

"People are talking about you," she said at last. "A lot of them saw you carrying a body into the Master's tent and they're saying it was Snow."

Crow grunted dismissively. "The body was covered, doubt anyone could've recognized it."

"They've put two and two together, Crow. It's not that hard. For one, you were the person carrying the body and for another, there's just not that many people the Master cares enough about to take into his own personal tent. Besides, no one has seen Snow since it happened and plenty of people have been working in the main tent. Or what's left of it, anyway."

He tossed the empty cup back into the water barrel, a lot harder than he needed to. Some of the water splashed over the edge. "The Master don't care about anyone but the Master. If Snow would've been anyone else he would've just let him die with the rest instead of exposing whatever it is he has goin' on with the Dark Arts."

"So it's true," she said softly. "He really is trying to bring him back from the dead."

"Yeah. It's true, and I told him to do it. I told him to, La, I can't... I can't..." Frustrated, he slammed his hand against the edge of the water barrel.

La put her hand on his arm; a simple gesture, but it helped. "It's all right, Crow. I don't agree with what he's doing and I don't trust that Voodoo man, but I can't blame you either. But these powers he's messing with... they're dangerous. I don't know what sort of effect it'll have on Snow if it works but even most of my people stopped dabbling in the Dark Arts a long time ago and we were the ones who discovered it in the first place. Surely there's a reason for that."

Crow didn't answer right away. Instead, he stared at his reflection in the water and was reminded again of how rough he looked. Just a tired face singed with smoke, rippling a little as the water moved. If he and Snow hadn't had the same piercing green eyes, Crow never would have been able to believe that Snow -- lithe, beautiful, cheery Snow -- could be related to him in any fashion, much less be his brother.

"I'm going to get him out of here if this works," he said, breaking the silence at last. 'If whatever they're doin' works, I'm getting him out and I'm getting you out and we're never coming back -- damn the consequences. I thought if I stayed here with him he'd be safe but look what happened! I'm not risking that, not again." He would have said more, would have kept rambling on and on, but his voice broke at the end and he found himself unable to speak.

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La never got a chance to properly reply. They were both yelled at to return to work so all she could do was whisper an "I'll see you later, Crow, hang in there," before she had to leave him. He watched her go for a moment or two and then he was gone, too.

-----------------------------------

Evening fell and with it came a light sprinkling of rain. It was welcomed at first by the hot and sweaty workers, most of which had been working since the early hours of the morning, but when they were told they had to pick up the pace and get as much done before the oncoming storm really hit, they were less appreciative of it. Crow cursed under his breath when someone shouted at him to work faster. Had these people not been through enough? And even now, hours later, the Master hadn't emerged from his tent and Crow had no word on his brother. He was starting to lose his patience.

One more person yelled at him from behind his back to hurry it up and that was the last straw. His temper snapped and he dropped what he was doing, whirling around with fire in his eyes -- but before he could say a word, the Master side-stepped neatly between the two men.

"Have something to say, do you, Crow? Well, don't let me stop you."

Crow had never wanted to punch someone so badly in all his life -- and that was saying a lot. How dare he stay silent the entire day, forcing Crow to work even though all he could think of was whether his brother was alive or dead? How dare he look so calm, amused even, and not tell him the thing he knew Crow most wanted to hear? But he'd never say a word if Crow actually punched him so he forced himself to relax a little, even if the scowl didn't fade off his face in the slightest.

"What of Snow? That's all I gotta say."

The Master stepped over and threw his arm around Crow's shoulder. He had to lean his arm upwards because Crow was taller but even so, Crow found himself flinching at the unwelcome touch. "Come boy, don't be so loud. Don't be so hasty. Do you want the entire circus to know what happened?"

"If he's dead they'll find out anyway."

"But dead and come back... that's different, eh?"

Crow shook off the Master's arm, none too gently, and stepped back. His legs felt weak beneath him and he stumbled, catching himself just before he fell backwards. Could it be? Could it be true? He tried to speak but words failed him.

"Go on, Crow. Go find your brother."

Inhale. Exhale. Breathe.

Maybe the Master wasn't so heartless as he had thought.

"Oh and while you're there..."

Crow's eyes, which had lost their focus at the news, snapped back to the Master's face. What? Do what? He'd do anything if it meant he had his brother back again.

The Master smiled, just slightly, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Tell him goodbye."

Goodbye? "I... I don't understand."

"You failed me, Crow. You're one of my best men and you could have fought off the Wyvern; brought the creature down. But you ran off instead."

"No. I saved Snow, I saved him."

The Master's blue eyes pierced into his very soul. "Did you?" His voice was soft and he took a step forward. Crow took another step back. "As I recall, I saved him. Not you. And now it's time for you to make up for your failure. You will go pack your things and then you will go and bid your brother farewell. Some of my men will escort you away from here, just for a day or so, and then you will be on your own to hunt and kill the beast. You will not return without its head. Is that clear?"

Crow stared at him, feeling numb. This wasn't a task.

This was a death sentence.

One man wouldn't be able to take on Wyvern like that, not even if it was injured. And even if he did somehow succeed, he'd never be able to carry that thing's head very far, meaning the Master didn't expect him to succeed or come back. And if he tried to come back without it...

Well, that was a death sentence, too. Either way, he was a dead man. At least one of the ways -- however impossible it sounded -- held even the slightest chance of him being able to get back here and save Snow.

"Fine," he snapped. Maybe he could get Snow and La out before he had to leave. But when he glanced around him, he saw several men staring at him. And they weren't working. Dammit, he was being watched already.

All the way back to the guardsmen's tent, he was going over and over in his mind how to break this gently to Snow. How was he supposed to explain everything that had happened? And, worst of all, he knew that telling Snow he was going to leave was going to destroy the poor boy. Even when they had gone for weeks without seeing the other, as hard as that was, they knew that the other was there and it was only a matter of time before they were reunited again. It was something to hold onto. It was hope.

There would be no hope now. He wished La was there to advise him but now he wasn't even sure if he would be able to see her again. She always seemed to know what to do and say when his own clumsy words failed him, which they did often enough.

"I haven't all day, Crow," one of the men grumbled as Crow reached the tent. Crow turned and silenced him with a dark look. But as much as he wanted to delay leaving as long as possible, his desire to see if his brother really was alive again outweighed a petty desire to move slowly on purpose so he slung his shield over his back, clipped his bow and hunting knife to his belt, and tossed what little belongings he had in a knapsack which he then fastened over his shoulder. The entire process took only a few minutes and he made for the Master's tent after that without a word to the other men.

When the tent was in view, he stopped. "I don't need an escort past here."

One of the men, the same one who had grumbled at him before, shrugged. 'Don't matter what you need. We have orders."

"Oh let 'im be." A young man with a face full of freckles and a slight lilting accent spoke up. Crow didn't remember his name but he knew he'd seen him around before -- a flaming head of red hair like that was not easy to forget. "We'll wait out here for 'im; let 'im have his peace. Surround the tent if it makes ya feel better.

Reluctantly, the other men agreed and Crow was allowed to continue on alone.