"She what?"

  Peter clasped his hands, placing them on the large, hardwood table in the community hall of Fisham. His Uncle's austere face showed even more lines than he remembered, or perhaps that was the flickering light from the covered lantern that sat between them. He watched as his Uncle stroked his upper lip and narrowed his eyes, a classic sign that the Chief of Fisham was plotting something.

  "She is awaiting a decision on whether to let her return," Peter repeated. Although his uncle now sat up straight in his high-back chair, his chin dipped low as he studied Peter intently. Peter waited patiently while his uncle sorted out his many thoughts, just soaking in the smell of cedar and pine.

  "And you say she was with you the entire journey here? She never went off on her own?" the Chief asked. Peter nodded his head, and gave a little curious tilt as to the question. He hoped his Uncle would pick up on it and elaborate, but it seemed, as usual, his uncle couldn't see beyond his own swirling thoughts. "When did she last feed?"

  "Two nights ago." Peter rubbed his wrist subconsciously. "I wanted to come home, but I don't want to fulfil the other part of my oath." Chief Fisher lifted a frosty eyebrow at Peter, his chin sliding slightly to one side, but then he looked down.

  "You always were soft." Chief Fisher murmured. Peter gave a slight shrug. He'd accepted that label, and it didn't offend him anymore. Not like it did in his youth, when he went out of his way to prove otherwise. He tapped his fingers on the surface of the unfinished wood table top. "You say there were abominations to the east?"

  "They attacked some travellers who were passing through. Rena dealt with them. The survivor was quite shaken up." The Chief's eyes widened momentarily and his hand gripped into a fist even as it rested on the table.

  "Survivor? Did they suspect anything about Rena?" the Chief asked, alarmed.

  "I don't think so. We sent her further east, just in case." Peter rubbed the back of his neck.

  The Chief sighed, relief filling him as air escaped. For a moment he sat in silence, before shifting in his seat and looking back at his nephew. "Since you left we have joined the Westarm Ward. Rena's return would be... complicated," Chief Fisher said, his voice trailing off as he stared beyond Peter.

  Peter let out a low whistle. "So we'd be having regular traders and who knows what else traipsing through Fisham. Yeah, that'd make keeping Rena's secret tricky."

  "But... on the other hand, we might have an opportunity. Goldilocks and Perch have both had losses, and the corpses they have found were all drained of blood." The Chief's eyebrows drew close together.

  "So the abominations are already here..." Peter said. "That's why I came back. Rena can fight them without fear of infection."

  "We thought perhaps it was Rena who was killing."

  "Not a chance. Like I said, she's been with us," Peter objected. Chief Fisher brought up a hand in a placating gesture, his eyes closed momentarily.

  "I know, I know. But two of the bodies were buried. Abominations don't bury their dead. And the sled and supplies the hunters went out with were never recovered. So either we have another vampire in our midst, or we have infected who have not fully succumbed."

  Peter took a moment to consider this information. Had he brought his family back into further peril? No. He immediately discarded such a thought. If abominations were coming, their small numbers would have been easily overrun, even with Rena's protection. "What is this opportunity you spoke of?"

  "I can tell the other Warders are wary of us Fishers. If we can prove our value by discovering and destroying whatever is hunting their citizens, then it would do well to cement our position. But as part of our membership, we have not only had to send scouts to patrol perimeters around the Ward's borders, but also accept and house sentries that come here. Some of our finest hunters are dispatched to other settlements, and our lumberers are away on a log run. If Rena can kill the threat, then I would be willing to restore the village pact with her." The Chief steepled his fingers as he looked towards his nephew.

  "Well... it would be up to her. But I have every confidence in Rena," Peter remarked, going back to tapping his finger.

  "I know you do. You've always been fond of her," Chief Fisher remarked dryly. Somehow, he made it sound mocking, as if one ought to be ashamed. Peter frowned and shrugged. He wasn't ashamed. "I shall write my conditions, and stamp it with blood," the Chief stood up and went to a small writing desk in the corner, taking out some rough, pulpy paper and some ink. "Bring it to her, and let me know if she accepts. It would be better if I do not meet her in person for the time being."

  Peter looked down at the paper and then slowly let his gaze travel to his uncle. "If you say so, Uncle."

  Later...

  A soft growl told Peter he was getting close. He lifted up his torch, catching at least three sets of eyes gleaming back in the darkness. One of the wolves stepped into the light, lifting his snout and sniffing. While Claptrap and Rigmarole kept their distances, Kerfuffle pranced over wagging her tail. Wearing mittens he couldn't give her the scratches behind the ears she was clearly asking for, and instead leaned forward and gave her a friendly thump to her flank.

  "So, is Graham still chief? Or is Geoff calling the shots?"

  Peter looked up, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the darkness. Rena leaned against a tree, Blarney and Filibuster resting at her feet. "Don't even joke about that."

  Rena's arms unfolded and she stood up straight, stepping over one of the wolfdog brothers. She approached Peter, and stood with a hand on her hip, a rare smile on her face. It was only when she smiled like this that he was struck with how young she must have been when she became a vampire. Each time it broke his heart a little to think she had so few years of sunshine in her life. "Graham is still hale and hardy then? And how did he take the news?"

  "They thought you may have succumbed and went on a murderous rampage." Peter snorted derisively at the thought. Rena simply laughed.

  "He'd like that, wouldn't he? To assuage his guilt and justify turning me out."

  "I don't think he'd like the idea of you going mad. There'd always be the worry you'd come to seek revenge." Prickly sensations covered his skin at the thought. He took off his mittens and his vampiric friend stared at his exposed wrist. He shook his head, holding up a hand as he dug into the large pouch sewn into his parka and took out a rolled up piece of parchment.

  Rena raised her eyebrows and stared at it. "I smell blood."

  "These are some new conditions. Graham also has a mission for you."

  Rena took the parchment and slipped it down the collar of her shirt, her attention fixated on Peter. "What is it?"

  "Likely hunting another vampire. Something has been drinking blood and burying its victims."

  "That doesn't bode well."

  Peter took a moment to watch Rena, whose attention kept dropping to his bare hand. He could feel the cold air rapidly working its witchery on his fingers, burning with ice. "No it doesn't. Are you hungry?"

  "Famished."

  "Thought you might be. But it's too cold out here to get much from my wrist." Peter put his mittens back on and pulled down his hood, tilting his neck. His wrists had become used to the repeated puncturing of flesh, but no such desensitisation had happened for his neck. She rarely drank from there. "I'll fill you in on the details once you have fed."

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  Peter bit his lower lip and shut his eyes, bracing himself for the pain that was coming.

  A scream rang out, jabbing Linda's stomach with a pang. Her feet took flight and she ran to her sister's bedroom door. The handle didn't turn. Why didn't it turn? She pushed as hard as she could and hit the door. "Lily! Lily are you okay?" Sobbing answered from on the other side of the door. Linda rammed her shoulder into the wooden barrier between her and her kin. All she got for her efforts was a sore shoulder. Frantically, she banged on the door with her fists. "Lily, please! Open the door!"

  Linda was about to turn and run for help when she heard a click. The door opened, revealing her sister. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, and she held up a fist of white hair. "Linda, I'm in trouble."

  Linda examined her sister, heart still racing. She seemed unhurt. The gap closed between them and she embraced her taller yet younger sister. At this moment her sister felt as small and delicate in her arms as the flower she was named for. "Shhh, tell me what's wrong."

  Lily held up the lock of white hair. She then pointed to her head, where, upon closer inspection, Linda could see a few wisps of white hair mixed in with the chestnut waves. "Lily... is that hair... yours?" Her lower lip quivered as she nodded. "Lily, what happened?"

  "I... I got bit."

  Linda felt her whole world crashing. Bitten. Linda recoiled, letting go of her sister. Lily's eyes widened and her face went paler. The younger sister turned away and threw herself on the bed. "You hate me! You're disgusted! I deserve it! I was so stupid!"

  Linda shook her head, taking great pains to overcome her initial shock. Pushing away the fear that still roiled deep in her stomach, she placed her hands on her sister's shoulders, feeling her tremble through the flannel night dress. "I don't hate you. Deep breaths. Tell me what happened. Maybe I can help."

  "It's too late!" Lily wailed. Linda rubbed Lily's back as soothingly as she could, even as dread and despair loomed.

  Lily lay there sobbing, wearing herself out. Eventually, under Linda's calm touch and gentle coaching, she was ready to speak. She sat up, and wiped her eyes with her sleeves. "I went to Copperwood to see Jay," Lily began. Linda bit her tongue, narrowly holding back a scolding. Her sister already knew how dangerous it was to leave the huddle alone. "We'd, uh... met there before. Week past. He came all'a way from Perch. We uh... well... did it."

  Knuckles white, Linda balled her fists tight. She could not conceal her dismay. Lily looked away, and then back at Linda, placing a hand on her lap. "He had a sheath! We did all them things right! Like you taught me," Lily insisted. Linda took in a deep breath, and shook her head.

  "You know how I feel about them Hawks. After Jack promised my friend everything, had his way with her, then left her for one of his own. You can't trust them Hawk boys!" Linda berated. Lily's eyes brimmed with new tears, and Linda sighed. She wiped her sister's tears. "But... that don't matter now. What happened at Copperwood?"

  "He didn't show. I waited and waited and 'membered what you told me, and got madder and madder. I thought he loved me, Linda, really I did," Lily insisted. Linda sighed, shaking her head and slinging an arm about her sister. "It was getting late. I heard this awful whistle. Told myself, naw, that's the wind. But it wunt no wind. Something jumped down, and I saw this white man-thing. Like in the stories about vamps. So I ran!" Linda's heart raced as she listened. "It hit me behind and I fell over. I tried crawling away and..."

  Lily paused. She stood up and lifted up her dress. On the back of her calf were bruises, and amidst them, bitemarks. Wrinkling her nose, Linda looked away. She could not bear the truth. Her sister was doomed.

  Lily sat back down, stifling back another sob. Linda took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "But how did you get away?"

  "Thought I was done for. But then it screamed and let go. I tried to run, but my leg hurt so bad. I looked back, and there I saw him! A man was fighting it! First I thought it was one of our hunters, cause he sure was dressed like one. I couldn't watch. But then it got quiet, and I saw him standing over the thing holding a spade. He kicked the thing's head, and it rolled over near me. So I screamed. Then he looked at me, almost like he forgot I was there. He got closer and I could see we wunt one of ours." Linda's brow furrowed as she listened to the daring rescue of her sister. It was reassuring to know someone killed the monster, but too late to save her sister.

  "Was he from Perch?" The Hawk clan from Perch were known for ferocious warriors and hunters. If anyone would have the skill, or the brazenness, to fight a Vamp alone, it would be one of them.

  "Don't think so. He helped me up, said we needed to get inside. So I followed him into one of the old houses. He asked to see my leg. Well, it was just then I realised, oh no, I was bit by a Vamp! I mean I knew I was bit, but the Vamp part really drove home that moment! But he told me not to worry, the sickness could be drained out. He tied something round my thigh, and pressed on my leg. I screamed because it hurt. Then he said he knew how to make it drain faster. He began sucking the bite."

  Linda bit her lip. Before the long winter drove them away, there used to be poisonous snakes in the area. She remembered if someone was bit to cut the wound more and let it bleed. Could something so simple actually help the White Plague? If so, then why hadn't it been done before? She looked again at her sister's current state. White hair. Pale skin. Red eyes. "I don't think... it worked." The paleness might have been any sickness. The red eyes from crying. But Linda could not explain away the white hair.

  "It didn't. But I thought it had! And then... oh Linda... I don't know why I..." Lily shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears again. "I was so scared, thought I was gonna die, and I was so grateful..." Linda fixed Lily with a steady look.

  "Lily... did this man..."

  "He didn't make me! I wanted to!" Lily quickly insisted. "I'm not ashamed! He saved my life!" She frowned, her lower lip trembling. "At least, I thought..."

  "Lily, who was he?" Linda asked, an edge in her tone. She was going to find this man and have words.

  "Don't know. I'd never seen him before," Lily said, her voice choking again.

  "He didn't even tell you his name and he... oh Lily." Linda rubbed the bridge of her nose. But none of this mattered. She looked at her foolish younger sister. Her fate was sealed. She would become a monster. The idea made Linda's stomach flip, flop, and plummet to the ground. "We need to tell Madam Gold. If there are vamps in Copperwood, people need to know."

  "But they'll kill me, Linda! Please don't let them kill me!"

  "You'll turn into a monster! And what if there are more of 'em?"

  "Can't we say I didn't get bit? Can't we just say I saw one attacking a traveller?" Lily asked.

  Linda took a deep breath. "Lily, they are going to notice if your skin and hair go white. They'll see your eyes go red. And you know, White Skin, Red Eyes, Bring all us Our Demise."

  "Then hide me! Please! There must be a way around this! I don't want to die!" Lily begged her sister. Linda wrapped her arms about her sister.

  "I don't wanna lose you either." Linda rested her chin atop Lily's soft brown hair and sighed. What was she to do? "I won't say nothing, but I can't hide you, Lily. You're my l'il sis. I love you, but I can't let you become a vamp."

  "Maybe that man knows something. Maybe he's still there! I need to find him!"

  Linda grabbed Lily's arms, fixing her with a stern look. "Lily! That man took advantage of you!"

  "But what if... what if he can save me?" Lily asked. Linda gave her sister a firm shake.

  "We're not goin' back to Copperwood! I'll take care of you best I can with the time you got left. But I'm gonna lose you either way. Maybe lose more if we don't say something."

  Lily squeaked, but then nodded her head, hugging her sister as a new rush of tears flooded out of her eyes.

  "Come in.... Fisham.... come in...." The radio operator nearly doubled over in his chair as the radio crackled to life, a woman's voice barely coming over the waves. He quickly set about adjusting the frequency to get a clearer sound.

  "Wow, it really does talk!" jabbered an excitable five-year-old. Ash hopped off of his father's lap and ran over to the Fisham comms operator. Peter scooped him up and pulled him back.

  "Okay, buddy, tour's over. Time to let Pierce get back to work," Peter said as he reinforced his hold on the squirming child.

  "This is Fisham. Who am I speaking to? Over," Pierce said as Peter set Ash down firmly, holding his hand tight lest he run off to play with all the buttons.

  "A messenger. Over."

  Peter paused, as Ash pulled against him. He found himself straining to listen, although it was his intention to get Ash out from underfoot.

  "That's vague. Well. What's your message?" Pierce asked. Then after a pause he added an 'Over'.

  "The Bleak has reached the Old World. I repeat. The Bleak has reached the Old World. The Order of Chamrosh has been supplanted. War has ravaged Europe. Countries have fallen into anarchy. A New Order is gaining traction - you must prepare yourselves. True Vampires seek dominion. No more help is coming. You are on your own. Over."

  The silence that proceeded could have drowned out thunder. Ash gave his father's arm a tug, as if to remind him that he was still there.

  "What's a, uh, an arkey?" Ash asked.

  "Anarchy. It means no rules," Peter responded grimly.

  "Really? Can we GO there?"

  "No, Ash, we can't."

  "Aaaaw..."

  "Come on," Peter quietly commanded, pulling on his son's hand to bring him away. The tour of the radio tower was over, and Peter had a lot to process. There was always the hope that aid would come from overseas. But they were truly on their own now. Peter had questions, and he wanted to ask them, but not with Ash within hearing shot. Thus, he coaxed and dragged his son down the long stairs from the old ranger's outpost.

  Do you find different character's ways of speaking distinct enough?