Lane was a little amazed that they could ride to the camp where Morgulon was staying, without a werewolf on guard and without ever smelling a whiff of the Rot. Not even the strange headache that came before the Rot reared its ugly head, not even when they were within sight of the Savre. Not even at night.

Of course, there was an elder werewolf roughly every ten miles in this forest. They passed the second crew, busy laying down tracks, on the second day. As soon as the bridge across the Lour was finished, the company would be able to bring in the building materials to construct the bigger bridge across the Savre. Maybe it was actually doable in a year, Lane thought.

“Lots of tracks,” David noted. “But not a werewolf in sight.”

“Are you really surprised?” Lane asked. “They’re scared of us.”

“Right,” David said. “I keep forgetting that it’s been only a few months for most of them,” he added. “Feels longer.”

“True,” Lane said. “I’ve only been involved with this madness for, oh, nine months? And it feels like ages already. Nine months since George Louis sent us to find sane werewolves. Eight since I found Morgulon,” she added thoughtfully.

It did feel so much longer. Had it really been only a little over a month since she had seen Morgulon at Deva?

“I think it’s the railway,” she said, and then had to laugh about herself for sounding like an old lady. “Just – a month ago, we were at Deva, and then at Deggan, back at Deva within an hour, at Courtenay, Eoforwic, and all the places we stopped in between... We wouldn’t have been able to travel that much in such a short time two years ago.”

David nodded slowly. “Lots of things seemed impossible two years ago. Like challenging the Empire.”

“Think George Louis can actually pull it off?” Lane asked.

“That’ll depend on what Morgulon tells us, I think,” David said. “Right now, there’s Fenn, and Calder, and Bernadette, and the Morgulon herself. And it’s enough to build the railway and keep the heartlands mostly safe at the same time. If we had another four, or eight, or maybe a dozen more elder werewolves? Yes, I think we might actually be able to do it.”

He was quiet for a moment and added: “Four at the coast, at least. One just for Deggan – no, make that two, the Empire will have to take the harbour there to land their troops in large numbers. The rest somewhere central, like Deva, to be deployed wherever they’re needed.”

“Deggan is not the only harbour the Empire might use,” Lane pointed out. “Have just one there, place one in King’s Haven, too, and don’t forget about the southern coast.”

“Right, I forgot about that. They’ll need at least four, don’t you think?”

Lane nodded. “Do you think there are that many alive?”

“Don’t see why not,” David said. “The Central Range and the High Plains are huge, after all. I wouldn’t be surprised if out there, there are lots of elders. Maybe even some who are older than the Morgulon. Can we find them in time?” He shrugged. “We’ll have to see.”

“Yeah, I see what you mean,” Lane said softly. It took the mail coaches weeks to get across, and they went in a straight line, following the ancient roads from before the Rot. Werewolves were sure to avoid those roads. If Morgulon could tell them where to look, that would make a huge difference. But the question was whether she would be willing to do so.

They stayed for the night at the next camp over. It was manned only by a small number of navvies, who were busy strengthening fortifications. They had already put up a few buildings where they were sleeping and were happy to let Lane have one of them. There were a few guffaws when they explained that they only had one hut to spare. Lane wasn’t sure if she had dared to stay at the camp had she been alone, but with David there, in a tent right outside, she was pretty certain that nobody would “accidentally” walk in at night, hoping to see her naked.

The next day, they reached the bridge over the Savre, and were a little surprised to find that Eyal’s crew had already crossed over. The clear-felled aisle was impressively long.

“Ten more miles to Mannin!” Eyal told them proudly, once they finally reached them. “Of course, then we have to turn around and prepare the ground for the tracks, but still.”

“Impressive,” David said.

“How’re Greg and Thoko?” Eyal asked.

“They’re fine,” David assured him.

“So Greg gets to work with the engineers?”

“Oh yes. And a bunch of zoologists from Deva University who want to learn everything they can about werewolves.”

“Huh,” Eyal said, and David explained a little more about why they had come out to First Camp originally.

“I take it you want to talk to the Morgulon?” Eyal eventually asked.

Lane and David exchanged a look. “Is there a problem?” Lane asked. Because there had been a note in the big man’s voice, something that made the hairs in the back of her neck stand up.

“Not – not a problem,” Eyal said. “At least the other werewolves are sure that she’s fine. She just won’t come into camp anymore. You’ll either have to convince one of them to take you to her, or track her down somehow yourself.”

Lane had to bite her tongue to stop herself from saying something very un-ladylike. “How long since you saw her last?” she asked.

“Since she returned from Deva,” Eyal said. “She dropped off the new guys, we sent Bernadette back with Greg, and then she walked into the forest and hasn’t come out again.”

“We better get on that, then,” David said, to Lane’s endless relief.

They still had some daylight left, and if that wasn’t enough time, they could track into the night. It was half moon, they wouldn’t have to worry about werewolves or the Rot.

“She’ll be fine,” David said, as soon as they were out of earshot of the navvies.

“Do I look that worried?”

“Like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Lane took a deep breath, but it didn’t help. A sense of dread had gripped her, a fear that made no sense at all. If there was anything seriously wrong with Morgulon, the navvies camp would have gone down with the Rot already.

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But she really did feel like she had seen a ghost. Something that just shouldn’t be.

“What do you think is it?” she asked. “Why would she...”

“Stop coming into camp?” David asked when Lane trailed off. “Why wouldn’t she? It’s not like Morgulon hasn’t lived most of her life out in the forest. Maybe she just got tired of all the people.”

“Yeah, I – I can see that,” Lane muttered. But it still didn’t calm her.

Finding a werewolf track near the camp wasn’t hard. Finding the right one was the challenge. They did try to talk to one of the younger werewolves they met, but the young man just glared at them and told them to leave the Morgulon alone.

So they circled the camp, in wider and wider rounds, hoping for some sign of Morgulon.

The only thing they found was a trail, worn into the underbrush by werewolves passing by over and over again. There was blood on the ground, too. Lane dropped to the ground and tipped a silver blade into it. There was no reaction, none of the fizzle that werewolf blood would show.

“Animal,” she sighed with relief.

“Think they are bringing her food?” David asked.

Lane stared at the trail. “Maybe,” she said. “We should,” she added. “As a peace offering, if nothing else.”

David wordlessly took the silver bolts out of his double-crossbow and replaced them with steel-tipped ones.

“Any game Morgulon prefers?”

“No,” Lane said. “Or as she would say, as long as its edible. Also, the more the better.”

“So, at least a wild hog,” David said. “Or a stag.”

“That would be good, yes.”

By the time they had made game, even the summer daylight was dwindling, but the well-worn trail they had spotted earlier was hard to miss. The two of them followed it slowly, carefully. They didn’t want to spook Morgulon and send her running. Especially not if she was hurt in any way – Lane couldn’t get over the thought that she might be.

Or was David right? Was Morgulon just tired of the crowds of navvies?

“Maybe you should wait here,” Lane said softly when they reached an especially thick wall of foliage. The trail led right into there, and Lane had a feeling that they had reached its end.

“Sure,” David said.

Lane hesitated a second, before handing over her crossbow and the quiver, in exchange for the deer they had shot. It was smaller than Lane would have liked, but at least she could carry it easily. She had to bend over almost double and pushed forward, into the undergrowth. Any werewolf taking this route would have to get down onto their belly.

And then she was through, feeling air above her head again. Warm air. As if she had passed through a very low and narrow door into a dark room. A soft rumble greeted her as she carefully straightened up again. There was no malice to it, though, not even a warning.

“Morgulon?” Lane whispered.

She could hear something big moving in the darkness of the nest, and then a rough tongue quickly washed across her face.

Lane almost giggled in relief. Morgulon was already sniffing out the deer she carried, carefully taking it out of her hands. The next second, Lane could hear Morgulon ripping into the carcass.

“Can I call David in?” Lane asked. “You remember him, right?”

But Morgulon growled softly in answer.

“Right. We talked to Eyal a little,” Lane went on, carefully feeling her way over to the werewolf. “He says he hasn’t seen you since you came back from Deva. Have you been here the whole time?”

She placed one hand on Morgulon’s shoulder just in time to feel her shrug.

“Any chance you’ll talk to me?” Lane asked.

Morgulon moved even closer to her, until Lane almost lay draped over her back, but didn’t change.

At least they seemed to be feeding her well. It felt like Morgulon was less bony than a month ago in Deva.

“You’re all right, aren’t you?” Lane tried again.

This time Morgulon nodded; Lane could feel the movement clearly. It felt almost enthusiastic.

“Okay,” Lane sighed. “I’ll let David know, okay? So he doesn’t have to sit outside all night?”

Morgulon didn’t react, probably too busy chewing.

Lane felt her way forward, then hesitated again, feeling around for some dry twigs.

“Morgulon?” she said. “Please, don’t freak out, but I need some light.”

Morgulon did jump when Lane struck a match against her boot, quickly lighting the twig. She singed her fingers making sure that the match wouldn’t set anything on fire before she dropped it. In the tiny flame, she caught a glance of Morgulon’s huge form, shifting uneasily. The golden eyes gleamed in the dark like two flames of their own.

“I’ll be right back,” Lane promised.

She took a deep breath once she was out in the open forest again. It was stuffy inside the nest Morgulon had made for herself.

“Lane?” she heard David’s voice.

“Yeah,” Lane muttered. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“Everything all right?”

“I think so,” Lane said slowly. “Something is definitely weird here, but I don’t think it’s a problem as such.”

“She’s in there?”

Lane could see him now, though his dark skin made him almost vanish between the shadows.

“Yeah, she’s in there,” Lane said. “Build herself some kind of nest. Won’t turn to talk to me, and I’m wondering what in the world she’s doing in there.”

“A nest,” David repeated. “And she didn’t do that before?”

“No! I mean, for new moon, yes, but never the rest of the month.”

“And it’s like a bird’s nest? Or a burrow?”

“Pretty much,” Lane sighed. “It’s really warm in there; I bet you could hatch an egg in there.”

David was quiet for a while. “So – you don’t think she’s in there for the same reason normal she-wolves stay in their burrows?”

Lane stared at him in surprise, trying to make out his face enough to see if he was joking. “What are you saying? That she’s – going to have cubs in there?”

“It’s possible, isn’t it?” David said.

Lane opened her mouth and closed it again. “I – I mean, I suppose it’s possible, yes,” she managed. “But – how? Or – I mean, I know how, but – who’s the father?”

“Might be one of the werewolves around here,” David pointed out. “The one back there did try to warn us away rather urgently, considering how scared werewolves usually react to us, don’t you think?”

Lane just nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll get back in there,” she said slowly. “Ask her. Maybe you should go back to camp. I don’t think she’s ready to see you right now.”

“All right,” David said. “Will you come into camp, or should I check on you?”

“I’ll need some human food in the morning,” Lane said. “I’ll be there.”

“All right,” David said, loosening his own water bottle from his belt and offering it to her. “See you then.”

“Thanks,” Lane said and accepted the bottle. She paused before ducking back into the nest, staring hard into the darkness, trying to make out what it was actually made of. Trees and shrubs didn’t usually grow like this, did they? It looked like it was roughly the shape of a squirrel’s dray, only hundreds of times bigger.

Lane crawled back into the darkness, wondering if Morgulon could see anything in there, or if she was orientating by smell and sound alone. Lane groped around blindly until she nearly fell over one of the big paws. She managed to steady herself, and gently lean against Morgulon’s shoulder again.

“So...” she said, a little unsure on how to even ask this. “David asked if you’re – going to have – children in here.”

She could feel Morgulon’s nod before she had even finished the question as if Morgulon had heard them talk outside. Which was possible, of course.

“You are,” Lane whispered to herself. “Oh, God...”

She felt a little silly for the last exclamation, mostly because she had no idea what god she should be praying to, these days. Mithras would hardly look favourably on her or Morgulon, not to even speak about the – the young ones.

“Any idea when?” Lane asked softly.

Morgulon shrugged.

“I wish – I’ve got so many questions right now,” Lane sighed. “I mean, who’s the father? Where did you meet him? Is he human?”

Morgulon kept shaking her head while Lane spoke to herself, and Lane fell silent. Not human, that had been a stupid question, really.

“Is he one of the werewolves guarding the camp right now?”

Morgulon shrugged.

Lane frowned. “You aren’t sure?”

It seemed like something Morgulon would be sure of. Or maybe that was just the jealousy talking, which Lane couldn’t quite fight down. It was hard enough to imagine Morgulon with one of the other werewolves, let alone several of them.

But then another thought came to her, something Nathan had mentioned about Greg and the pack, especially about Greg and one of the younger female werewolves.

“Did this happen on full moon?” she asked.

Morgulon shrugged again and then nodded.

“So this wasn’t something you – wanted to happen?”

Morgulon huffed, shook her head, and then nodded.

Lane frowned. “This is something you wanted to happen?”

Nod.

“I see,” Lane said quietly. “Think we’ll see this happen more, with all the werewolves rounded up and in the same place?”

Morgulon shook her head.

“David will love this. And his brother. Wait – Greg might actually be the father!”

Morgulon huffed again, a laugh, Lane was fairly sure.

“I guess we’ll see – soon,” Lane sighed, and leaned back against Morgulon’s shoulder. “I cannot wait for new moon, you know.”