Greg hadn’t realized that the Morgulon had left the operation, but he did notice her return. Even though, at first, he didn’t know what that strange feeling was. As if someone invisible was tugging at his sleeves. Only he didn’t have sleeves, he was in his wolf-form when it started, in the middle of a fight against the Rot.
Bernadette and Boris stopped for a few seconds, both looking into the same direction, ears flicked forwards, as if they could hear something. They had time to do so because the Rot-creature they had been fighting was retreating quickly towards the sidearm of the Savre it had crawled out of.
Fleur took the opportunity to rip a big chunk of fungus out of its flank. Bernadette finished it off, and then, to Greg’s surprise, she turned her back on the creek and ambled back towards where they had stashed their clothes.
“What’s going on?” Greg asked, as soon as they were all human again.
“Didn’t you feel it?” Bernadette asked. “The Morgulon is back. Rot won’t dare move its ugly head until it gets dark.”
“I didn’t realize she left,” Greg said, a little confused. He had noticed that the work had gotten harder, the fights more bloody, especially at night. But it was hard to believe that the Morgulon alone should have such an impact.
“You didn’t feel her leave?” Boris asked, surprised.
“He is still very new to this,” Bernadette pointed out.
“And we didn’t work closely with her,” Fleur added. “He might be more attuned to you, Bernadette.”
“Can you feel when we’re around?” Boris asked, looking at Greg. “When you don’t see us. Do you know how to find us?”
“I don’t know? I don’t – What are you even talking about?”
Bernadette transformed again, and Greg had to take a few deep breaths to stop himself from following suit. Fleur turned, too, while Boris remained human.
He eyed Greg critically. “You’re really good at ignoring the call, considering how young you are. Might be why you can’t feel it as much.”
Bernadette and Fleur walked away.
“Close your eyes,” Boris said. “And turn around a few times.”
“Can I put on some pants first?” Greg asked.
“It’ll get more tricky the longer you wait.”
So Greg closed his eyes and turned around a few times.
“Slowly,” Boris said. “Stop when it feels right. It’ll feel like – like walking downhill.”
Greg had to move very slowly and concentrate hard, and even then it was more of a guess, but when he stopped facing what he felt was the right direction, Boris grinned.
“It’s less downhill, more a puddle,” Greg grimaced.
He managed to reproduce the result a couple of times, but then Fleur and Bernadette were probably too far away.
Boris shook his head. “We need to practise that,” he decided. “And I can’t believe that you can’t tell me in which direction the Morgulon is.”
Greg really couldn’t tell.
“Strange,” Boris grumbled, then he turned wolf again, to call Bernadette and Fleur back with a howl. They all got dressed and returned to where Eyal and his crew worked, to see if they could get some food.
“Aren’t you on duty?” Nosson the cook asked them with a frown.
“The Rot’s taking a break,” Greg said.
“What?”
“The Morgulon just returned,” Boris explained. “Made the Rot retreat right back into the swamp. Don’t worry, we’ll be hanging around.”
“Fine,” Nosson muttered. “It’s not like you guys don’t work hard enough.”
So they all got an early lunch and a few hours of unexpected rest. The Rot never bothered Eyal and his crew, not until nightfall. By then, another group of werewolves was responsible for keeping the workers safe. When Greg and the rest of his pack got back to work, at about four in the morning, the first hint of pre-dawn was already in the air and the birds were making a racket. They killed two of what Bernadette called little creepers and one slightly bigger creature, but as soon as the sun went up above the trees, the forest was quiet again, except for the men. As if they were back on the line to Sheaf.
“This can’t be all because of the Morgulon?” Greg wondered. “She wasn’t gone that long, and the Rot was a lot more trouble before.”
“Maybe a mixture of things,” Boris yawned. “We haven’t had a drop of rain in nearly a month, even here in these swamps that has to make a little difference. Also, we kept the Rot down without the Morgulon just fine. And now she’s back. No wonder it’s scared, is it?”
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“So you think the Rot can feel fear?” Greg asked.
“Screams when you bite it, doesn’t it?” Boris asked. “So if it feels pain, why not fear?”
“There’s someone else,” Bernadette added.
“Who?” Greg asked.
“I’m not sure,” Bernadette said. “It’s hard to tell with the Morgulon this close, but I’m fairly sure she didn’t come back alone.”
They found out a few hours later in the evening. Digger and Eyal called the crews together for an announcement.
“A few days ago, on the day of the solstice,” Eyal started, “High Inquisitor d’Evier raised the Rot at court in Deva. It was defeated by the Morgulon, who you all know, and another werewolf, who’ll protect the White Torrent in the future. D’Evier has turned tail and ran.”
A cheer went up amongst the navvies, and somebody hugged Fleur from behind and kissed her on the cheek.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Eyal said. “Good news, I know. But!” he called over the ruckus, “he’ll run straight to the Roi Solei, to tell him what happened. So you can all consider us at war with the Empire from now on.”
“Are we getting drafted?”
“No. But they want us to finish this line by next spring.”
Silence fell. They had been working for just three short months, clearing the way of trees up to the bridge and preparing the ground. It wasn’t them who were slowing the operation down. Work on the small and larger bridges hadn’t even started – hell, they didn’t even know yet where all the bridges would need to go, because the landscape was changing so much with the Rot retreating. That was where they were losing time.
“They need this line,” Nathan took over. “In a few weeks, Valoisian warships will start raiding the coast. Transporting coal from Mannin to Deggan will become incredibly risky. With Sheaf and Mannin connected by railway, we’ll have a self-sufficient supply of smelted iron, which’ll be vital for the war.”
“Yes, but we can’t magic a bridge into appearance,” Isaac yelled, voicing what they were all thinking.
“Right,” Eyal said. “So here’re some more good news: We’re getting all the resources.”
“All the werewolves go to this line, for now,” Digger added. “Three came with the Morgulon yesterday, and they are forming two additional crews at Eoforwic right now. These two crews will start building the embankment and also lay down tracks up to the first new bridge, where one crew will stay behind to start on that bridge. And now the bad news:”
“I knew it,” Isaac growled.
“The bridge crew doesn’t yet have their own elder werewolf, we have to send them one of ours. Since we already sent Calder away, we have to send either the Morgulon or Bernadette and her pack.”
“Shit,” Thoko swore.
Greg was so surprised by her outburst that he turned around to stare at her. He wasn’t happy, either: There was no way they would send the Morgulon. So he’d have to decide between the pack and the butty gang.
“’Shit,’ sums it up quite nicely,” Digger said dryly. “We also won’t get leave in Eoforwic, and they’re withholding some of our pay, both to make sure nobody here walks away from the job.”
“Wait, they’re broke already?” someone up front asked.
Eyal shook his head. “Normally, I would think that, too, but no. Duke Desmarais has bought company shares, so they’re pretty much drowning in money. They’re just really worried that we’ll take our bags full of gold and go home.”
“That’s bullshit,” Isaac complained. “They can just hire other people then.”
“We already hire everyone capable of lifting a shovel,” one of the clerks said. “Trouble is, all the nobles are now drafting regiments, too, and a lot of people still prefer the dangers of a battlefield, which they think they know, over the dangers of the Rot and werewolves. Also, they are starting two additional lines, to Silverford and Deeshire.”
“What are you going to do?” Isaac asked Greg, as soon as the gathering broke up.
“Dunno,” Greg muttered. He had promised the butty gang that he would stick with them all the way to Mannin. But the thought of losing the pack sent chills down his spine. “I need to think about this.”
“Greg?” Thoko asked. “Are you – okay?”
“What?” Greg said. “Yes, sure.”
But Thoko and Isaac looked at each other, shaking their heads. Thoko sat down next to him.
“You like them a lot, right?” she asked.
Greg forced himself to take a deep breath, closed his eyes for a second. “It’s not that,” he said after a few seconds. “I like you, too. A lot.”
It was hard, separating his human emotions from the sense of panic he felt at the thought of Bernadette and the other two leaving him behind.
“This isn’t – me,” he added. “It’s the other – the wolf. It’s going berserk right now.”
And it seemed to have control over his heartbeat right now. He tried to fight it down, but it was harder than expected.
“This is weird,” Greg muttered.
He was usually better at ignoring the wolf’s instincts.
Nathan was coming over, and Greg struggled to get to his feet. He didn’t mind Thoko looking at him with this much worry, but he didn’t want Nathan to crack another joke about him.
Nathan still frowned when he saw him. “You all right?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Greg grumbled. “The news caught me by surprise, is all.”
Nathan nodded. “You going to go with them?”
“Dunno,” Greg sighed.
“You should, I think,” Nathan said. “Smith’s going, too, he was hoping you’d come. Said something about an apprenticeship.”
“You think there’ll be time?” Greg asked.
“Can’t hurt to try, can it?”
“I promised I’d help the crew, though,” Greg said.
“No offense,” Nathan said. “But I don’t think you’re going to make that much of a difference around here.”
“Hey!” Thoko complained before Greg could say anything. “What if we don’t want him to go?”
“Come with us, if you’re so worried Fleur will make a move while you aren’t around,” Nathan said.
Thoko glared at him.
“What move?” Greg asked, at which point Isaac cracked up laughing.
Nathan grinned, too. “I don’t think you need to worry, Thoko,” he said.
“Very funny,” Thoko muttered, glaring at Isaac.
“Well, think about it,” Nathan shrugged. “Nobody leaves here until the bridge crew reaches the river, anyway.”
When Greg’s next shift ended, Smith was waiting for him. “Nathan says he already talked to you,” the engineer started, while Greg was still getting dressed. “About the apprenticeship?”
Greg nodded and tied his shoes. “Think they’ll let me?” he asked.
Nathan was right, he wouldn’t make much difference in fighting the Rot. But he had a hard time believing that the company would give him permission to abandon the job he’d been hired for, no matter how much difference he made.
“Well, not officially,” Smith admitted. “But the engineering team responsible for the bridges demand a werewolf on guard at all times while they work. Even while they are staying inside the camp. So, if you want to, I’ll suggest to the clerks that they send you for that job.”
He grinned at Greg excitedly.
Greg nodded slowly. “And you’ll come, too, right?”
“For a few weeks at least, yes,” Smith confirmed.
“Then I think I’d like to go and try,” Greg said. “If the other engineers are okay with that.”
“Oh, they won’t mind. I know some of them – you know Adrien, too. We’ll just tell them that you’re the most experienced of our werewolves, they don’t need to know more.”
Greg smiled back, a little weakly. But he was starting to look forward to this. Maybe he’d actually learn something with the engineers?
If there was time, and he didn’t have to fight the Rot so much.