I drive in a daze. I don’t even know the road. It feels like this vehicle knows its way to the camp. It steers itself as if on autopilot while I sit numbly clutching the wheel. Once in a while, I turn it when the mountain road bends spuriously. Otherwise, I have no control over my senses. I am on autopilot, the same as this vehicle. Tonight just turns weirder by the minute.

We reach the camp. The steel gate is shut. The guards there are extra alert today. They let me in after one look at the unconscious Gabe, but not before deliberating amongst themselves on the wisdom of it.

“The Alpha should have had more sense than to let these strangers into the pack. Now look what they brought upon us.”

I flush in shame. That must be the sentiment of everyone in this camp tonight, and they are not wrong. Mrs Bates was our responsibility. I brought her here; I crashed the car, and it was I who insisted on visiting the crash site this morning. It feels like a weird game of fate. Or maybe just my astounding stupidity.

“Please, let us in,” I beg them with a red face. “These two urgently need a doctor.”

They let me in, only for Gabe’s sake. I drive through the open gate, right to the house. Phyllis, John, and Tina await us in the front yard. Along with them is an old man I have never seen before. I hope he is a doctor. Gabe and Olly are both in desperate need of a doctor.

I stop the jeep, and they rush to huddle around us. Phyllis looks beside herself with worry. John looks stoic.

“I am sorry for this," I say as I get out of the driver’s seat. “I..“

“I told you not to drive while you are here." Phyllis’s words slash me like a whip. I blanch.

“I… remember that. And I am sorry, but I had to bring these two back. They are injured and Adam said…“

“Oh, never mind what Adam said!" She is in no mood to relent as she watches me with cold fury. “I’ll make sure this is your last time. Because henceforth, you are forbidden to step outside this camp.“

“I am sorry? But I..."

She walks past me as if I were invisible. John follows her and I fall quiet. Not all battles are fought at the same time. And this time is for Gabe and Olly.

The old man comes forward to examine Gabe. It looks like he is the camp doctor. Gabe is still unconscious. Sometimes during our ride he has returned to his normal appearance, but his body still bears the scars of the gruesome fight. His clothes are blood-soaked and on his back is a similar gash as Adam’s. He too has been at the receiving end of Edna’s Sting.

The old man takes Gabe’s pulse, then frowns at his gash.

“What gave him this?”

“It was a whip,” I quickly answer. “One of the rogues was carrying a whip infused with silver.” I didn’t notice it in the dark, but Gabe’s wounds are singed where the whip grazed his skin. A dark, sinister substance oozes out of them, making my heart shudder.

I wonder if Adam’s wounds too… I fervently pray they are not.

“I see!” He makes a wry comment. “Looks like the rogues are getting intelligent.”

John frowns, taking a step forward. “What do you say, Arome? Will he recover?

The old man, Arome, shakes his white head. “His injuries are grave, but it’s nothing we have not seen before, Alpha. The silver in the gash has penetrated the blood, but luckily it appears to be a very small amount. It’s nothing that can’t be cured by a mercurial antidote and some rest.”

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“And the scars? What about the scars? Will they fade?” Phyllis asks in a quiet voice. She is standing on a side, watching Gabe with a peculiar expression. Her eyes look haunted, as if she has seen it all before.

“Now that’s hardly appropriate at this time, Phyllis,” John gently chides his wife. “You know, the scars eventually fade. And even if they don’t, it’s a badge of bravery for any soldier.”

Phyllis scoffs, clearly in disagreement with her husband. “Bravery for you, maybe. For me, it’s a mark of incompetence. And Gabe is not just any soldier. He is our second son, the next in line after…. He must be ready for any eventuality.”

What she was about to say makes me shudder. In the pale light of the sickle moon, my face darkens at Phyllis’s coldness.

“Now, hold on Phyllis! This is hardly a time…” John bristles in disapproval, but Phyllis ignores him and turns back to Arome.

“You tell me, Arome. Will these scars fade? Will Gabe be like he was before or like Adam he too will…?”

Arome purses his lips. “I would not worry if I were you, Luna. These scars are yet fresh, and Gabe will soon regain consciousness. He should be able to heal himself in no time.”

That seems to satisfy Phyllis as she lets out a relieved sigh. John’s face is impassive as he turns to Olly.

“And what about Olivia? Is she okay?”

Arome turns to Olly. She is conscious, but barely. Her haunted eyes are glued to Gabe’s unconscious form, her face pale with shock. Blood soaks her left arm, and the cream scarf I tied around it has turned crimson. I untie it gently so Arome can have a better look.

“Interesting. What caused this wound?” Arome’s weathered face is curious.

“I… I am not sure.” I colour as I answer. Olly was right next to me the whole time, but I can hardly tell them I was too busy staring at Adam to pay attention to my own sister. In my defence, it was getting darker. Even if I was paying attention, it was unlikely to know who hurt whom in that ruckus.

“It was dark… and very chaotic. I could not see when Olly got hurt.”

“Fair enough,” Arome says as he shares a pregnant look with John. “Nothing to worry. If you are really the granddaughters of Rey, then it’s nothing to worry at all.”

I stare in confusion as his words bounce off my dazed brain. As Arome begins to dress Gabe’s wounds, my tired mind tumbles into another puzzle.

*****

The night is high. The camp is quiet. Somewhere an owl hoots, the sound echoing in the silence. I sit on the front steps clutching my knees, with Tina on my side.

She too, like me, is waiting for news. Jeff, Bill, and the rest of the men are gone after the rogues. It seems the rogues had planned the ambush well. They created a distraction on the opposite side of the camp before coming at us at the crash site. That was the reason no help reached us in time.

Arome was right. However stupid they look, they are a clever bunch. Or at least whoever was their leader who planned this attack.

I purse my lips in irritation. I hope they are all repenting of this misadventure. I hope their Master punishes them severely, or even better, they never reach their master to receive their reckoning.

“Don’t worry,” Tina says looking into the night towards the swaying treetops. “Adam will handle it. He knows the forest better than anyone, and even without any help, Adam alone is worth a hundred rogues.”

I cannot help but admire her. Even in this difficult time, her faith in her brother in unwavering. It’s just me… just me who has seen him with that awful gash, that cannot trust the fate.

I force a smile, covering Tina’s hand with mine.

“I know. Your brother is the strongest person I have seen. And the bravest and the kindest. I know he alone is enough to take care of those thugs.”

We sit together as the dark night wears on, waiting with patience, but nothing happens. There is no new movement at the camp gate, no cheer, no shout, no call for help. The men haven’t returned, and it does not look like they will return anytime soon.

“I think you girls should come inside.”

We look behind to see John. It seems Phyllis has gone to bed and Arome and his assistants are looking after the patients. John looks tired, done for the day. He sends Tina to bed and turns to me.

“Danny, if you could spare a moment, I’d like a word.”

*****

I walk behind John into his study. The windows are open, yet the air feels clammy. My palms are sweaty just thinking about what he is going to say.

“I hope you heard what Arome said. About Olivia.”

My throat goes dry. “Yes.”

“And I hope after tonight you understand what he means?”

Do I? I don’t know. I am tired of speculating. Forever wondering and guessing. This is unlike any of my straightforward math theorems. Nothing is as it seems. Surprises spring from every corner. I am reduced to basing my inferences on silly YA novels. That’s not what I call an intellectual. That’s not at all what I am.

“I would appreciate if you could please elaborate, John.” I decide to take matters into my own hands. “My guesses are not the same as bare facts. I would like the truth, and please do not withhold any of it.”

He gives a sigh and gestures at me to sit. It seems this is going to take a long time.

“So where do I start?” He rubs his stubble wearily.

“Please start at the very beginning,” I exhale, sitting back in my chair. ”Please start at Rey Hayworth-Armstrong and Adele Winters. That’s the story I want to hear from you.”

***** *****