As always, thanks go to J. Ace for beta reading this mess.

ACT TWO

No Trace … No Shadow

Nine years ago …

The girl hesitated for only a moment, just long enough to blink. Then she ran for him.

She tore her bulky shirt over her head, revealing a smaller one, and landed on her knees beside him. She reached for him immediately, her fingers going to the hem of his shirt.

Aeron grunted, trying to pull away from her, but she wouldn't let him. "I'm trying to help you," she said, ignoring his feeble attempts to stop her. She gripped the thin material of his shirt and tore it, revealing his abdomen, the entirety of which was already purpling with bruises.

"Shit," the girl said under her breath as she took in the state of him. "Shit, shit, shit." Her eyes coasted over his face, along his shredded wing. "I'm going to go get help. Here," she paused, handing him the shirt she'd removed. "Press this against your … your wing. It might stop the bleeding."

Lacking the strength to so much as lift a hand and take the shirt from her, Aeron merely grunted in reply. The girl sighed, reaching to press the shirt to his wing herself. He whimpered, loudly and fully, pulling away from her before she could touch it.

"If you won't let me, then do it yourself," she said, pressing the bundle of material into his hands. "I'm going to get help. I'll be right back, okay?"

And she was gone.

—

Aeron spent another ten minutes lying in the woods and awaiting his final death before footsteps sounded again. They were faster than they should have been, lighter on the ground than they had any right to be, and were headed his way.

A woman stepped into his view. His vision was blurred by that point—by tears, or perhaps just exhaustion—and so he couldn't make her out properly, but her hair caught the moonlight, shining almost silver, and she knelt in front of him slowly and with a grace that the girl had not possessed.

"Oh," she breathed, her voice barely breaking the silence. "What happened to you?"

Aeron didn't reply; he didn't think she expected him to.

She moved toward him and must have noted how he flinched. "It's okay," she said, raising hands in the air innocently. "My name's Caroline. Caroline Mikaelson. I'm here to help you, all right?"

More footsteps approached, and the girl reappeared, breathless from having run to catch up with the faster woman. Caroline.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" asked Caroline.

"Aeron."

"Okay, Aeron, do you think you can walk?" she asked. "It's all right if you can't. I can carry you. You might need to help me a little, though. With the wings."

Aeron swallowed thickly, tasting blood. "Just leave me."

"I can't do that," she said. "You're hurt, and you need help. Please, let me help you." She reached forward, causing Aeron to spring back again.

"Don't touch his wing," said the girl, hovering just on the edge of the scene.

"Hope," said Caroline, looking up at the girl. "I need you to go back inside and wake up your aunts, and then Ric as well. Tell them what happened, but tell them not to come out here; I'll get him inside myself. And make sure you tell Aunt Keelin it's an emergency, and we'll meet her in the infirmary. Okay?"

The girl, Hope, seemed hesitant. "I can stay with him, I can help—"

"Hope, sweetheart, this is one of those times where you can't argue with me. Go inside and do as you're told. Now."

The girl must have left, as Caroline turned back to Aeron. "All right, sweetheart. Is your right wing hurt like your left is?"

Aeron managed to shake his head.

"Okay. I'm going to need you to pull it in close so I can pick you up on that side. We'll try to not to drag your hurt wing on the ground, but for now we just need to get you in out of the cold. All right?"

Without waiting for his confirmation, Caroline moved over to his right side, gripping his arm and pulling him upright a little so there was space for him to fold his wing away. It took effort—he barely used his wings to begin with—but he managed it. Caroline tucked one arm under his knees and the other behind his shoulder blades, hand stuck in his armpit on the other side to keep from slipping. And then she lifted.

The change in position shot pain through Aeron's entire torso and he cried out, hands curling into fists as he fought to stay still in Caroline's arms. She wasn't human, that much was clear, and the way she navigated the distance they covered with light steps and minimal stumbling told him that she could carry weights much heavier than him.

The pain returned with each step, and Aeron belatedly wondered if it was deliberate. If perhaps this was some fresh torture, something to make him think he was being healed and protected when in fact he was being taken back, back to the monster, back to Hybern.

Mustering up the last of his strength, Aeron threw his daemati powers out to sift through Caroline's mind. He met a wall initially, and heard her surprised intake of breath over him. Then, to his surprise, the wall fell away, and, It's okay, was whispered into his mind. You're safe, I promise. You can check.

Aeron threw himself into her mind, and everything was sharper, more primal all of a sudden. It was like being in the mind of an ancient fae, but it didn't feel nearly as cruel. Through her eyes, he could see the building looming ahead, the lights on, the shape of the girl in the doorway. Caroline looked down at Aeron and he saw himself, felt her pang of regret, her anger at the sight of his wing, her desperate need to get him inside where it was safe. Safe, safe, safe. He latched onto the word, and she must have felt it, somehow, because she said aloud, "Yes, Aeron. You're safe here."

Aeron barely had the presence of mind to pull out of her thoughts before he fell into unconsciousness.

—

Now …

The women were not lovers, nor were they family—not by blood, in any event. Hope had been wishing for at least one of the categories to be accurate, but they appeared to be entirely different species and showed no affection to one another. The extent of their interaction was nods and short commands from the green woman, who the man eventually addressed as 'Andra'.

They stopped as the sun began to dip. Andra ordered the others to find something for them to eat, then turned to Hope. "You're going to help me build a fire."

"Why would I help you?"

Shrugging off her cloak, the woman revealed her green skin in almost all its glory, her clothing minimal and apparently not required to keep her warm in the increasingly chilly evening air. "Because you don't want to freeze tonight." She unsheathed a blade from its place at her back; it was long and thin, razor-sharp and definitely lethal.

Hope wondered how hard it would be to take from her in the dead of the night.

"I'm going to chop wood. You'll bring it back here to the clearing."

"How do you know I won't run?"

"I don't," said Andra, inspecting her blade boredly. "I just know I can hunt you down if you try." She turned crimson eyes on Hope, locking her in place. "So don't."

Hope nodded, pretending to be cowed, and followed Andra deeper into the wood. She didn't think the blade was suited to wood chopping—she'd seen Uncle Elijah break an axe on a thick piece of wood once, and this blade was certainly flimsy compared to the blade he'd used then. But the metal shimmered in the fading sunlight, giving off an otherworldly glow, and, sure enough, Andra sliced an entire branch three times as thick as Hope's forearm clean off. It fell to the ground with a thud, and she chopped it into manageable pieces with four easy strokes.

"Well, go on," Andra said impatiently, waving Hope toward the line of wood pieces. "Carry them back to the clearing and make a pile. I'll organise the fire myself later."

Hope lifted two pieces, one in each arm, and weighed the possibility of throwing them at Andra. She could hit her in the face and the leg, disorienting her, aggravating her old injury. She'd probably drop her sword then, and Hope could grab it and knock her head clean off. Easy.

But the others would still be out there, and they'd hunt her down, of that she had no doubt. And Hope may have been a wolf, but she wasn't actively cursed yet; her instincts were raw at best, and she didn't know this territory. Not like they seemed to.

No. She had to kill them all at once. Especially considering what triggering her wolf curse was likely to do to her magic, making her a beacon to anyone who wanted to find her. She had to wait.

If Andra noticed Hope's scrutiny, she didn't comment, simply continued slicing at the tree. Hope hefted the pieces of wood in her arms and walked away, headed back for the clearing.

—

Then …

Aeron became aware of his surroundings in bits and pieces. The ceiling was tiled and clean, so sterile the smell burned his nose. But the blood was rushing to his head and there was a weight on his chest, but none on his wings, so he had to be upside down, surely, so the ceiling was actually the ground. But how could he see it?

He must have made some sort of noise, because someone else in the room moved closer.

"Aeron," said a voice he recognised, a voice he'd heard in his own mind before he'd black out. Caroline. Her feet came into view, and then she was kneeling down, peering up at him. He could see her better in this light, cold as it was, her blonde hair and blue eyes that smiled even as she took him in with sympathy. Nothing like his mother. Nothing like the monster. "Aeron, are you with me?"

Aeron grunted in response.

"It's all right, sweetheart. You're all right. We've got you on a massage table so you can still have your face exposed while there isn't any pressure on your wings."

It was then that Aeron noticed that there was no pain in his torso, and his face felt fine.

"We've mostly gotten you healed up," Caroline continued, sitting down so she was cross-legged. "But there seem to be some problems with your wings. You kept folding them in and tucking them underneath you in your sleep, and it opened up the stitches on your injured wing. We had to put you like this just so we could give the wound some time to settle."

Aeron tried to speak, finding his throat dry.

"Oh, sorry, sweetheart. Here." Caroline disappeared for a moment, returning with a cup filled with water and a long stick poking out of it. "It's a straw," she said, noting his confusion as she pointed it up at him. "Just grab it and suck, and you can drink the water without spilling it."

The water smelled clean, cleaner than anything Aeron had ever had to drink. He sealed his lips around the straw while Caroline held the cup steady, letting him drink. It tasted just as clean on his tongue as he expected, and he drank the whole lot.

"I can get you some more in a minute," said Caroline. "But it's best not to drink too much all at once. You're just getting back to us, after all."

Aeron cleared his throat, finding it easier now. "Where am I?"

"Well, there are a couple of names for it," began Caroline, setting the cup aside. "The Salvatore Boarding School, officially, but most people just call this the Armory. It's a safe place for magical children that need one. And you seem like you fit that description just at the moment."

"They're going to come for me," said Aeron. "You should just give me to them."

Caroline didn't react visibly, but Aeron heard her heartbeat ratchet up a level. "Who is coming for you?" she asked, a deadly calm in her voice.

"Hybern."

"Hybern? Never heard of them. Are they like you? Wings and everything?"

"You don't know about Hybern?" Aeron asked.

"Should I?" asked Caroline.

Aeron felt panic rise in his throat. "Where am I, exactly?"

"I told you, you're at The Salvatore—"

"No, not the building. The land. What Court is this?"

"Court? This is Grove Hill, Virginia. America." She examined his face. "You don't know where any of these places are, do you?"

"I haven't travelled very far from home before," Aeron said. It was the first time he'd called Under the Mountain "home". The first time he'd had anywhere to compare it to, because it had been all he'd known for so long.

"And where is home for you?"

Aeron weighed his options. His mother had lots of enemies, all of them well and truly earned. If Caroline did somehow know who Amarantha was, it might not be safe to tell her anything about who he really was.

Apparently noting Aeron's hesitation, Caroline continued, "It's okay if you need to go into my head. I know you did that last night, to check on me, and I understand if you need to do it again just to be safe."

Aeron blinked. He'd never had someone's permission to enter their mind before. It had always been a this mother's behest, and entirely against their will. "Maybe another time," he said. "I'm not sure if I can right now." He was feeling fairly weak, admittedly, but if he was being honest it wasn't anything to do with that. It was more the memory of her voice in his head, telling him he was safe. He didn't think he could handle that again.

"Do you know how you got here?" Caroline asked.

"I winnowed," said Aeron.

"I don't know what that is."

For someone that obviously wasn't human, she was sure doing a good imitation of one. "Moving from one place to another quickly. Folding through space to get somewhere else. I think usually you have to have seen where you're going before so you can imagine it in your mind and go there. I don't know how I ended up here."

"What did you imagine?"

"Somewhere safe."

"Well, that's exactly where you got yourself," Caroline said, both a statement of fact and a promise. "Maybe you don't just have to remember places. Maybe you can remember feelings, too, and then send yourself somewhere like that."

"I've never been anywhere safe before."

Something passed behind Caroline's eyes, there and then gone. "Well," she began, a quiver in her voice, "you are now. You're safe here, I promise. I don't know what happened, and you don't have to tell me unless you want to. But I can promise you, Aeron, you are safe in this school. You are safe in my home."

Aeron wasn't ready to go into her head and see if she was lying or not. Maybe later, he told himself. "What are you?" he settled for asking.

"I'm a vampire," Caroline answered promptly. At Aeron's blank expression, she smiled softly, not a hint of mockery in it. "I take it you don't have those where you come from?"

Aeron would have shaken his head if he'd been able to move it. It registered that he'd never considered moving from the table he was laid on. He was too exhausted to be much use if he did, but as it was he was relatively pain-free and more comfortable than he'd been in his life.

"The long and short of it is that I'm, well, dead." Caroline winced a little. "But also not really. Undead is more correct, but I don't like the term. I was born human, but I was turned into a vampire by ingesting another vampire's blood, which carries the … disease, or curse, or whatever you want to call it. I took the blood, and then I died, and then I came back as a vampire. I drink human blood to survive, but not too much and I don't hurt people to get it. I mostly just steal it from blood banks—"

"Blood banks?"

"Don't have those where you come from either, huh? A blood bank is where we store donated blood here. Humans give blood to be given to other humans if they're hurt and in need of more blood to replace any they've lost. I steal from the blood bank every now and then so I can drink that blood rather than drinking from real people and hurting them." She raised an eyebrow at him. "You don't seem as bothered by that as I expected."

"I haven't met many people that try not to cause any harm."

Caroline tilted her head to the side, pursing her lips. "Do you try not to hurt anyone?"

Would she still welcome him into her safe place if she knew what he'd done? Was a safe place still a safe place if it took in a monster like him? "I've never chosen to do it." Liar, something whispered.

"Who chose for you?"

Aeron avoided her gaze, but she followed his eyeline with her head, making sure their eyes stayed locked.

"It's okay, Aeron," she said. "Whatever happened in the past, happened in the past. All I need to know is that you won't hurt anyone here."

"I wouldn't."

"Because my daughters live here," Caroline continued. "I made this whole place for them, so they could be safe. I can't let anyone in here that would hurt them. So I'm just going to let you know that there are some really powerful people in this house, and that these powerful people keep a close eye on anyone new that comes to stay here, just to make sure that things stay safe. And I'm not threatening you, Aeron, because I want you to understand that, while you're under this roof, these powerful people are looking out for you, too, and we're all making sure you stay safe. But you need to understand that if you're lying to me, and if you do hurt anyone here, we have the means to stop you. Okay?"

Aeron didn't know what to make of it—didn't know how he could possibly fight anyone with Caroline's strength, let alone multiple people with that strength. But if they were all like her, and they could all fight, then maybe they wouldn't be in as much danger if the monster found him here. Maybe they wouldn't get hurt. "Are there more vampires here?"

"A few, and all of them are even more powerful than I am."

"And the rest are … human?"

"Only one or two. Most of the teachers here are witches or werewolves." She noted his confusion, and continued, "Witches have magic, and can cast spells, curses, make wards, that kind of stuff. Werewolves are basically humans under a curse witches put on their bloodlines a long, long time ago, and once they trigger their curses they turn into wolves whenever the moon is full. They're also a bit stronger than usual, and have heightened senses once their curses are active."

"You said the other vampires are more powerful than you," said Aeron. "So why are you in charge?"

Caroline smiled. "Because I'm good at it." Her smile faded, replaced by a contemplative look. "Someone's coming," she announced, and then Aeron heard the footsteps as well. "It's your doctor, the one who's taking care of your health. She'll introduce herself when she comes in, but you should know that she's a werewolf, and she's very good at her job. Okay?"

The opening of a door somewhere to his right made Aeron intimately aware of just how much of the room there was that he hadn't investigated yet. He tried to pull himself up, finding his arms weak and ineffective in the attempt to push himself up off the table.

"Hang on, hang on," said the new voice, a deep, raspy woman's voice that came with warm hands on his clothed arms. "You can sit up, just let me help you."

She did as promised, Caroline hovering nearby to help him if he tipped off the other side of the table. Cold air hit the small of his back; they must have cut the bottom of a shirt open to slip it over his wings. From his new position with his wings hanging over the side of the table behind him and his legs dangling on the other side, Aeron examined the newcomer: a woman with dark skin, thick, black hair piled high on her head and a white coat slung over dark blue, loose-fitted clothes.

"It's nice to see you awake, Aeron," greeted the woman. Caroline had called her a doctor, and she seemed to be this land's version of a healer. Aeron had only seen a healer once, when his mother had lost her temper and his injuries had been so severe there'd been cause to wonder whether he'd survive at all. "I'm Dr. Mikaelson, but you can just call me Keelin."

Mikaelson? Aeron looked between the two women, both of whom stood in front of him. They shared the same family name, but none of the same features.

"We both married into the Mikaelson name," Caroline explained before he had the chance to ask.

Married. It was a human custom, and not one Aeron was familiar with. He couldn't imagine the point of it, personally.

"All right, Aeron," said Keelin, removing the device she had slung over her neck like a half-necklace. "How are you feeling right now? Any pain?"

Aeron dodged the large, flat edge of the device when she moved it toward him. "What is that?"

"It's a stethoscope," said Keelin.

Aeron continued eyeing it with suspicion.

"Don't have those where you're from either, huh?" asked Caroline. "It's to help her listen to your heart."

"Why would you need to do that?"

"To check that your heart rate is healthy," replied Keelin. "I can also check on your breathing, and tell if your lungs are clear. Everything sounds fine to me from here, with my enhanced senses, but I prefer to use the stethoscope just to make sure." She looked over him warily. "You're sure you've never seen one of these before? They're pretty common."

"I haven't seen many healers in my life."

Keelin's mouth pinched. "You look like you could have benefitted from a few visits over the years. They don't have healers that can help with your wings where you come from?"

None my mother would consider paying to see to me. "It wasn't practical," he said.

"Well, it's practical now," said Caroline. "Keelin helped heal you so far, and she can make sure you're all right from now on." The two women exchanged a brief look before Caroline turned back to Aeron. "I should probably leave you two alone. I'll be just outside, and you can call if you need me."

Aeron didn't have it in him to protest, though something in him wanted to. Where did that come from? He hadn't wanted someone to stay in a very long time—had spent most of his time wishing his companions would leave, in fact.

Left alone with him, Keelin turned back, her stethoscope still held loosely in her hands. Sighing, she grabbed what appeared to be a stool on wheels and rolled it in front of Aeron, sitting down on it. Her white coat fell around her and obscured the small seat, almost making it look like she was floating.

"Aeron," she began. "May I call you Aeron? I don't know if you've given us your last name."

"Just Aeron."

"All right, then. I gather you're not from around here, and there may be some things about your physiology that I haven't seen before. But I am a doctor, and I'm not unused to new challenges, given the place where I work. I trust that Caroline has filled you in on the function of this school?"

Aeron nodded.

"Because the school houses a lot of supernatural children, I reside here on call to tend to anyone that's injured. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, it's important to have someone here. I specialise in trauma medicine—officially I was trained as an ER doctor. That's someone who deals with people that come in for immediate medical treatment, often because they've been injured, or are seriously ill.

"Obviously, you fell into the former category. When Caroline brought you in here you were unconscious, so I put you on the table as best I could without bending your wings and assessed your injuries. How much would you like to know about what I found? As I'm sure you can see, you are mostly healed now, with the exception of your wing. We can talk about your treatment as little or as much as you like."

Aeron wasn't sure why she'd ask him, so he just shrugged.

"All right, I'll keep you informed. But you can ask me to stop, if you want. It's important that you understand what I've done and what I'm here to help you with, but it's all still up to you. You were hurt pretty badly, and I don't want you to feel like you're not in control here. You're recovering, physically and otherwise, and everything about that is up to you. Okay?"

Another nod from Aeron prompted her to continue.

"Upon assessing your injuries, I found massive internal bleeding, three broken ribs, and a fractured pelvis. There was significant swelling to your face, and your nose was broken at an alarming angle.

"Here at the Armory, we are very careful about our use of magical objects to aid in healing. They come with drawbacks, ramifications that we don't always understand, and so we find it best practice to stick with medicine when treating patients. However, in cases where a life is at risk, we are at liberty to use vampire blood to heal injuries at our own discretion. This is a part of the agreement we have with the parents of the children here, and as you became a child in our care the moment you stepped foot on this property, we felt that it applied to you, too. You have our apologies if this was in any way overstepping, but I do believe it was necessary."

"You gave me vampire blood?" asked Aeron. "Caroline said she's a vampire."

"She is, yes. It was hers that you were given. We used a minimal amount, and it has already left your system with no lasting effects. I'm not sure how much she told you about the use of vampire blood and vampires in general, but there is no danger of you becoming one. The only purpose it served was healing you."

"Why are you explaining all of this to me?" asked Aeron. "Why bother?"

Keelin's gaze softened, her eyes creasing at the edges. "Caroline would phrase it better," she said, "but I'll give it a go. Here at the Armory, we put a lot of emphasis on autonomy, on people owning themselves. Because we train children how to control their magical gifts, we try to make sure we foster an atmosphere that teaches them about their rights, others' rights, and the importance of upholding both. You may be a teenager, but that doesn't give you less of a right to know what's going on with your body. Especially because you were just unconscious for several days in a new place with new people, and you have no real reason to trust us. We don't lie to people, especially not those we're committed to taking care of."

Aeron mulled this over for a moment. His mother had never asked, never explained. No one had, not really. And why should they? "That seems like a lot of effort."

"It's worth it," countered Keelin. She held the stethoscope up once more. "Now," she said. "Would you like to see what this does? You can use it first, if you like."

Aeron frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You can use it to listen first," said Keelin. "Just put these"—she pulled two long, thin metal prongs apart—"in your ears, and put the other part against whatever you want to listen to. Do you want to try?"

Aeron accepted the item from her tentatively, careful not to let their fingers brush. Flushing under her scrutiny, he inserted the prongs into his ears, finding them covered in something like leather, but not. He held the circular piece in his hand and placed it against his wrist.

"It'll work better if you try your heart," Keelin advised.

Moving the metal up under his shirt, Aeron was struck with the sound of his heart, thundering in his ears like when he was terrified, when, in his mother's chambers, he'd be beaten so severely all he could hear was that single sound to remind him he was still alive, that he had not yet descended into the hell he was certain he was destined for.

Ripping the device from his chest and his ears, Aeron heard his shirt tear more at the back just with the violence of the action. The device clattered to the floor.

Keelin picked it up silently, the stool squeaking as she shifted her weight. She tucked it into a pocket in her coat, out of sight. "I should've warned you it would be cold."

Aeron pulled air through his clenched teeth, his hiss a comfort to his ears. "It's fine," he said, trying to calm himself. He'd learned how to slow his heartbeat long ago, when his fear had spiked so much excitement in his mother and her guards. He could mask his terror easily enough.

"It's obviously not," said Keelin. "But we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. And after giving you vampire blood, I feel pretty confident in skipping this whole part of the physical exam, even if it goes against my very nature."

"What do you mean?" asked Aeron. "Do werewolves have to listen to heartbeats?"

Keelin smiled softly. "Not because I'm a werewolf; because I'm a doctor. I'm trained to check your vitals and reflexes as soon as you wake up from any sort of sustained sleep or unconscious state. But, with the vampire blood, I'll let it slide. I will, however, need to look at your wing."

Aeron pulled the wing in question closer to his body on instinct, feeling the pull and hissing at the pain of it. "It's fine."

"Stop lying to me," said Keelin, her tone soft. "I'm here to help you, and I can't do that if you don't tell me the truth."

"I'm fine. I don't want you to touch my wing."

Keelin nodded, pursing her lips. "Okay," she said, brushing her thighs with her hands and moving to her feet. She must have caught Aeron's surprised look, because she said, "I'm not going to touch you if you don't want me to, Aeron. No one here is. But your wing … I had to stitch it shut, and those stitches might get infected if they're left untreated for too long. I mostly just want to check and see if there's any sign of infection so far, because I haven't been able to change the bandages as regularly as I'd like. I don't even have to touch it if you're willing to take the bandage off yourself."

Considering his options, Aeron knew he didn't have much of a choice. If he said no, he risked his wing suffering further damage. But he didn't want to be touched, not even a little, so he had to be certain. "You swear you won't touch it?"

"You can go in my head to check that I'm telling the truth, if you like," said Keelin. "Caroline told me you could do that. It's okay, if you want to."

Aeron shook his head quickly, pulling his wing closer to his body. He found the edge of the bandage and began to pull it away, keeping an eye on Keelin as he did so. As soon as the bandage was gone she hunched over, her hands linked behind her back to show him they were far away from the damaged membrane.

He was a little busy looking at his wing to notice.

The membrane had been stitched back together, the jagged edges of it pieced together as best as they could be. Whether it got an infection or not didn't really matter, Aeron thought. The doctor might as well saw them off, for all they were useful to him.

"If you change your mind about me touching the membrane, I can take a look at some grafts and that kind of thing to help patch up that damaged area. It's complicated, especially if you're so against being touched, but we might be able to get you into the air again."

She thought he could fly, Aeron thought with a start. His wings were ruined, shriveled things, but she looked at them and imagined that he had flown before, that he had soared in the sky and that he was terrified not to taste that freedom again. She didn't know his shame, that he was an Illyrian that had never taken wing.

"I'd rather not be touched," was all he said. He saw no reason to correct her mistake.

Keelin nodded, stepping back immediately. "Well, I can't see or scent any infection, and I think the wound is healing nicely. I may need to touch it to pull the stitches out, but we can discuss the possibility of you being under anaesthetic or something similar while we do it. You could even spend time in my head, if you want, just so you know what will happen."

Aeron could feel his heart hammering, right up against the base of his throat like a stone lodged there, trying to free itself. "Can't I do it myself?"

"I very strongly recommend against it," said Keelin. "Look, we have a week or so until we get to that point, at least, so let's wait and see, okay?"

Nodding, Aeron was anything but satisfied. He needed to leave this place, these people that touched him while he was sleeping and needed to do it again. He knew they'd promised to respect him, but something about the doctor told him she wouldn't stick to that. Something wild about her, something wolfish in her, told him that she would do whatever she had to.

He didn't trust them. But he pasted on a smile and nodded once more, glad to see that Keelin was placated.

—

Now …

Hope wolfed down her meal of deer meat, accepting the offered canteen of water and drinking what she could before it was ripped from her again. Whatever was going on here, it seemed to be in the best interest of her party to keep her alive and well. That had to count for something.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked, highly doubting she would get an answer.

"Where you belong," was Andra's response. She took another bite of her meat, turning back to her companions.

Hope needed more information. She knew she was in Prythian, but she had no idea what court, who was High Lord, and why she'd been brought here to begin with. She hadn't even known that travel between the two lands was something just anyone could—she'd always just assumed that Aeron's strong magic and tense situation had been the catalyst for his arrival. She hadn't imagined that any old fae enemies could track him, could come for either of them or their family.

And that was precisely what these fae had to be—enemies of Aeron. His monster was likely still alive somewhere out here, wanting him back. Perhaps they intended to use her to get him there.

Under no circumstances could that be allowed to happen. Not when she'd promised Aeron so many times, in the dark of the night when he'd woken from his horrible nightmares, and she'd promised him that he would never have to see the people who did it. That they would never touch him, ever again.

Repeating the same promise, over and over.

She would rather die than let him set foot in that cell again, but she knew that he would lock himself inside if he knew of a threat to her life.

There was only one thing left to do, then: Remove the threat.

—

Hope waited until the fire burned low, the stick still wedged under her sleeve digging sharply into the inside of her elbow as she folded her arm underneath her head, feigning sleep.

The male and female was sleeping, but Andra, the leader, was wide awake. It would make it difficult to get to her sword, but not impossible.

Hope checked her magic reserves—they were doing well, considering the state she'd been in upon arrival. She'd done what she could to pool her magic, to gather it and produce more like holding spit in one's mouth, and she had a reasonable amount. Nothing devastating, but it would be enough if she used it correctly. And she'd need some left over to mask her scent, too. Especially considering that she intended to slaughter these fae, and trigger her werewolf curse in doing so.

Evening out her breaths, Hope slowed her heartbeat, just as Aeron had taught her to long ago. Don't let them see you scared, he'd said. It had been an entirely different situation, of course, but it still applied. She made herself appear relaxed, so near to sleep …

And then she sprung.

As she flew toward Andra, Hope let the stick fall from her sleeve, catching it in her hand. Andra whirled to face Hope, rising to her feet, but Hope was one step ahead, dropping to her knees and sliding across the soil to strike out at the woman's injured knee. Andra gasped, buckling, and Hope used the combination of Andra's downward momentum and her own upward thrust to lodge the stick right in her throat.

Blood poured over Hope like a fountain, the spray of it blocking her vision in a way she had not anticipated. It was salty in her mouth, wet down the neck of her shirt and coat, and she wanted to vomit all over again.

She knew the moment Andra died. Felt it in her gut, like a fist clenching over her heart. She doubled over, feeling her heart shudder to life, take its first beats as a wolf. Her eyes were glowing gold, she knew, and she blinked away the blood as she struggled to her feet, the initial pain of a triggered curse abating to leave her something new, something with senses stronger than she could have imagined.

Senses that told her immediately that the other two had awoken.

Hope dove, just missing a dagger thrown in her direction. It wouldn't have hit anything vital, just her legs, but she needed her legs. She needed them to run.

Hope rolled forward, her fingers finding Andra's sword. She slid into a crouch and drew the blade from its scabbard, facing the remaining two.

"Well?" she said, a grisly smile lighting her face. "Aren't you going to attack?"

The two looked torn between tearing her throat out and turning to run. She had no idea how she could have intimidated them so—even covered in blood, she wasn't nearly their size.

"Why can't you hurt me?" asked Hope. "Who are you bringing me to?"

"It won't stop," said the male. "Killing us won't stop what's coming for you. What will always be coming for you."

Sighing, Hope resigned herself to getting no information from them. "No, I suppose it won't," she said, letting the tip of her sword drop a fraction. "But it will feel really good."

And she lunged.

The female tried to strike out at her but she locked her into place with her magic even as she met the male's dagger with her blade. He was a practiced fighter, perhaps even someone that ordinarily would have defeated her, but the newly active curse thundered through her veins like a living thing, lighting her from the inside and driving her thrusts. Her feints were heavier than she would have liked, her weapon being twice as heavy as her opponent's, but she made use of her legs, striking out at him, trying to knock him off balance.

Her split focus wasn't the best thing, and keeping the female locked in place was requiring more and more energy. She had to end this, now.

The female had a blade drawn, locked in her shaking hand as she tried to move it while spelled still. Hope glanced over her shoulder to check the angle of the blade, making a dangerous gamble.

She freed the female suddenly, ducking out of the way and knocking the male forward into her outstretched blade. His cry was a gurgle, and the woman's eyes blew wide as she pulled her weapon from his chest. He dropped to the ground, not quite dead, but certainly out of the fight.

The female whirled on Hope with a cry, their blades meeting between them with a clang. The female's blade was broader and heavier than Hope's, but whatever metal Hope's was was somehow stronger, absorbing the blows that threatened to rattle her very bones.

"You can't hurt me," Hope panted, blocking a strike to her shoulder. She'd trained with Aunt Rebekah so many times, fencing and then larger swords, but she'd never been in a real sword fight before. Strangely enough, they didn't happen on Earth very often.

She was a good fighter; her family had seen to that. But she was tiring, and she had to finish this up soon.

Hope may have been out of physical puff, she realised, but she had magic left. Maybe even enough for what she planned to do.

Throwing herself back, Hope made certain there was distance between them. Tossing out a hand, fingers outstretched, she threw her magic into the female's heart and tugged.

Freezing into place, the female grappled at her chest, blood falling from her mouth as her eyes were blown wide. Hope continued tugging out and up with her magic, knowing that gravity would help her with some of this if she could just get through the rib cage …

And then the female's heart flew from her chest, landing squarely in Hope's palm.

The fae fell to the ground, her heart following her with a wet slap. Panting heavily, Hope gripped her sword in both hands to lift it, stumbling over to where the male was still gasping on the ground.

"You stupid bitch," he spat.

Hope grinned down at him, planting a foot in his chest, right over his injury. "I think you'll find I'm rather intelligent. Smart enough to get the best of you."

"You haven't gotten the best of anything," said the male. "You're just delaying the inevitable."

"I'm going to ask you one last time," said Hope, bearing down on him and settling her blade at his throat. "Who is coming after me?"

The male grinned, blood leaking from the corners of his mouth and slipping sideways like a clown's painted smile. "Once the truth is out," he said, "everyone will come for you."

Hope severed his spine without a single thought.

—

Then …

When Caroline returned to Aeron it was with a box in her arms. She set it down on a bench nearby, turning around to face him.

"So, I brought you some clothes," she said, waving in the direction of the box. "Some books, too. Just to keep you entertained."

Aeron had never read a book for pleasure before. His mother had made certain that he was tutored, but it was all boring manuals and journals, ancient texts that gave him a headache just thinking about. He had certainly never been entertained by a book before.

"Also," Caroline continued, walking over to a door. "There's a bathroom in here for you to wash up in, if you need to. The shower might be a bit of a squeeze with your wings, and it's recommended that you keep you wound out of the water, but if you leave the door open you should be able to poke it out, I suppose." She turned back to him. "Do you think you can walk? I'd like to show you some things, see if you can work them."

So he was to be tested, then. Aeron hid his wince as he moved to his feet. He wasn't in pain, but he was weak. Weaker than he'd been in a while.

Padding over to the now open door, Aeron watch Caroline run him through the taps, the water pressure, the location of the different soaps and shampoos. He remained silent, watching her detach and reattach the water spout in the shower, talking about the duration of showers, how he could take as long as he liked to start with but, as a rule, they preferred shorter showers to try and conserve water.

By the time she was done rambling, Aeron was a little out of breath from standing against the doorframe. She must have heard the catch in his throat, seen the tension in his frame, because she reached out and offered a hand. He took it begrudgingly, letting her help him back to the odd table he'd been lying on.

"Also, now that you're awake," she continued, "you're welcome to move to a room with a bed, or we can move a bed in here easily enough. This is a room in the infirmary, and not all of the other bedrooms have bathrooms attached. You'd have to use a communal space for showering, and I'm guessing you don't want that. But, as far as your wings go, it's up to you whether you want to try sleeping on your back or side."

Aeron was waiting for her to start testing him, asking him questions to make sure he'd listen, but she continued on, eyeing his wing, "I'm guessing you aren't having Keelin touch up your wing for you?"

"I don't want to be touched."

"That's very understandable. But, just so you know, if she touched your wing to deal with the stitches once, it's still up to you whether she touches it after that. Just because you do something one time, doesn't mean we have to do it every time. Your wings still belong to you, and no one will ever touch them without your permission." She rested a hand on his knee very carefully, and he didn't flinch. "If you change your mind, you can tell me, and I will do whatever you need to help you. If you don't want to stay here, you can leave, but I can't promise you'll be safe anywhere else. I can promise you'll be safe here."

He doubted she knew what she was talking about, the kinds of people that would come after him …

The people that had no way of knowing where he was. The people that didn't know who or what or where or how he was there.

"All right," he said.

Caroline blinked. "All right, you'll stay, or all right, Keelin can help you with your wing?"

Aeron swallowed. "Both."

Act III is on its way!