Hunting the Fugitives
The three wizards and the dragons were quick to follow after the racing magehound, though Scout was soon out of sight and the only way they could follow him easily was because Arista was linked to him.
The Gifford Pinchot National Forest was a vast game preserve that sprawled over the southern half of Washington state, comprising over 1, 368, 300 acres of virtually untamed wilderness. There were some hiking trails and ranger bases and a visitor's center and two or three campgrounds for enterprising tourists, but on the whole, the preserve belonged to the wild animals. It was home to many endangered species, such as the bald eagle, the Northern spotted owl, grizzly bear, bull trout, Chinook, and even packs of gray wolves. It was also one of the favored hunting grounds of the bronze dragons, who loved the solitude and the high mountain peaks and the variety of salmon and bass in the rivers.
The forest was also the site of one of North America's largest active volcanoes, Mount St. Helen's, which drew a great number of tourists every year, who came from all over to photograph it and climb it and study it. Snape wasn't planning on doing any site seeing however, not until their current problem with the dragonslayers was resolved.
The three walked quickly through the trees, not actually trying to keep up with the dog, who was hot on the scent of the fugitives and wouldn't have slowed down for anything short of an Avada Kedavra. Arista said that she could feel the dog up to a range of twenty miles or so, and Severus knew he could call Scout in if he had to with the dog whistle, though he'd only do that if absolutely necessary.
Once Scout had closed in on their quarry, Arista told him she would ask the dog to wait for them, rather than allow him to confront the fugitives alone, though the magehound was a match for at least one wizard, trained to hold and capture.
The dragons flew silently overhead, masked from sight, scanning the area with their sharp dragon eyes. Thus far, the forest was undisturbed, save by their passing. Arista found herself walking ahead of the Potions Master and other times just behind him, tracking the dog's progress by the empathic link. The link allowed her to feel what the magehound did, which was mostly eagerness and determination to find his quarry.
Occasionally, the tree trunks were so close together she had to turn sideways to squeeze by them and then she was grateful from Severus's insistence that she only pack what was absolutely necessary. Had she been a clothes horse like Brittany Marsh or one of her friends, she'd never have managed to slip through the trees at all. She wondered how far the fugitive dragonslayers had gone into the forest and if they'd managed to hole up somewhere within its depths. That seemed the most likely course of action, for the national forest was vast and even the park rangers did not know every nook and cranny of it, just the major attractions and trails that a tourist was likely to take.
We could wander in here for months and not see another human being. It'd be an ideal spot for some enterprising necromancer to practice a few forbidden spells, or even concoct a cauldron or two of Dragon's Breath. She said as much to her companions, who agreed with her wholeheartedly.
"That's one of the problems we've had, trying to track them," remarked Sunstrike from above. "This forest is too vast for one of us to patrol alone, and one man or even a dozen can remain here undetected for a very long time if they're careful and knows how to live off the land, or has a base camp with a lot of stores laid in."
"That's for sure," Fireflash snorted. "It's like searching for an ant in an anthill. Aventurine and I quartered half of this place for over a month and turned up nothing. These are no novices we're tracking here, at least one of them's had some stealth training and can live off the land and he's taught what he knows to his buddies."
"Then it's a good thing we've got Scout to track," Drake said, coming up to walk alongside Arista. "That's one thing they can't block, a magehound's nose."
"True," the professor agreed. "There was only one dark wizard I ever knew of who could do that, and my wife killed him over fourteen years ago. I don't think these are quite in Slade's class when it comes to concealment spells, thank God." Or else we might have to rely on Arista's empathy, and I don't think I could bear letting her go through what Amelia did, she's too young to endure that kind of evil.
"But they're good enough to hide from a trained Advocate and his apprentice," sighed Sunstrike. "While I know Advocate Merrick is an experienced Hunter, I think he's overwhelmed here, there's simply too much territory to cover, even using locator spells and such. Is there any chance of you contacting him, Flash, to see if he's discovered something we could use, or at least meeting up with him somewhere?"
Fireflash was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "It's odd, but I've been trying to mindspeak him since we came here and I'm not getting an answer. One reason Ray Merrick was chosen as Advocate was because he has an unusual telepathic ability, he can speak with us dragons over a very long distance. Since he was assigned to this case, he's been checking in with me, Aventurine, or my father every week or so. Once Aventurine was killed, it was just me or Sardonyx, but he's never missed a week. Until recently. He never contacted me last week, or my father either. Hunters are usually fanatics about following procedure, especially on remote assignments like this one."
"D'you think something may have happened to him?" Arista queried.
"Like being killed?" Drake suggested softly, his gray eyes wide with alarm.
"I'd hate to think that, but it's a possibility, kid," the bronze said heavily. "Usually he'd answer me right away when I contact him, unless he's hurt too bad to do so, or under an Imperius Curse, or dead, like you said."
"But if he was dead, wouldn't his apprentice try and contact you?" Severus asked. "You did say he was with a student, right?"
"Yes. An Advocate always has an apprentice wizard, one he's grooming to take his place someday. This time it's his daughter, around eighteen or nineteen, a recent graduate from the Academy. The Advocate only chooses the best from the top ten percent of graduates to be his student. So I know the kid's no slouch as a Hunter, but I doubt she's got Merrick's ability to mindspeak over distances, if at all. That's a rare talent."
"Couldn't she just send an owl, if she needed to?" Drake wanted to know.
"Normally, yeah. But on a remote like this, it's too easy for someone working for the other side to intercept a letter, so no Hunter will risk sending classified information with the owl post," Fireflash explained.
"You think they've got spies in the post office?" Arista exclaimed.
"Kid, I wouldn't put it past them. There are too many coincidences happening here for it to be mere chance. Once they got lucky, but five times means they've got a means to track us that we don't know about, and information on our whereabouts that nobody else could know of."
"But who would be heartless enough to betray you to the dragonslayers?" Drake wondered.
"Somebody who hates us really bad, Drake," Sunstrike answered. "Either that or someone who's desperate for power and will do anything to get it, even slaughtering bronze dragons for profit." She sighed angrily. "You'd be amazed how the almighty Galleon holds some people in thrall, kid. Even when they're rich as Midas, it's not enough, and they have to have more, and they don't care what they have to do to get it. Beg, borrow, steal, sell their children to slavers, kill their own mothers, whatever it takes, so long as it brings in the gold. Sick, isn't it?"
Drake looked as revolted by Sunstrike's statement as Arista felt. But he didn't attempt to deny the truth behind the bronze female's words. Both of them knew she spoke only the honest truth, harsh as it was. Greed had led to the downfall of many before this and it always would.
"So you think they're killing dragons just to make Dragon's Breath?" Arista asked.
"No, that's not the only reason," Sunstrike disagreed. "I think that potion is just an excuse. The real reason they're killing us is for power. I think one of them must be a thaumaturge, a dark wizard who knows how to gather power from the death of another creature. Necromancy of the worst sort, one that's done by a ritual killing, so the wizard behind it can siphon off as much of the dying creature's power as he can."
"But none of these killings have the feel of ritual magic about them, Sunny," Fireflash argued. "There's no pentagram drawn or the usual blood offerings upon the ground or black candles burnt around the body."
"That's apprentice stuff, Flash," Sunstrike sneered. "None of that's necessary if the magician knows what he's doing. All he needs is to be able to kill his target without maiming it utterly and the concentration to speak the blood ritual that draws another's life force to him before the heart stops beating. I've studied the files on thaumaturgy as well as any Hunter, Flash, and my gut instinct is telling me that one or more of these people is a ritualist, one who gains most of his power through the death agonies of his victims, like dragons."
Severus shuddered, for the practice the bronze spoke of reminded him rather forcefully of Voldemort. "Would such a one share his power with his followers, Sunstrike?"
"Hmmm. A good question, Potions Master. Unfortunately, I can't answer it. I'd be inclined to say no, simply because most necromancers don't give a rat's ass about anyone but themselves. But maybe this one is a little smarter than his brothers and doesn't mind sharing some of the time, enough so his followers still hang around him, hoping for an easy handout."
"Most ritualists practice this kind of thing because they can't gather power any other way, and were weak in magic to begin with," Flash put in. "Either that or they need extra power for some other reason, like raising a demon or whatever. Most thaumaturges are classic bullies, enjoying dominating anything weaker than they are, they probably tortured small animals as children or pulled wings off butterflies. They like any situation that gives them total control, and what better expression of ultimate control than the power of life and death over a bronze dragon, the single sentient species on this earth that could challenge mankind for dominance if we chose?"
"Not only that, but we've also got plenty of our own magic, and such a thing would be an irresistible lure to someone like that." Sunstrike reminded him. She ground her teeth in fury. "Just thinking about our magic in the hands of some slimy dishonorable wicked bastard is enough to make me want to burn something. Preferably him and his friends."
The sheer fury in her tone sent shivers down the spines of her companions, and one and all thanked God that they were not her enemy.
"How do you figure that one of them is this thaumaturge, or whatever?" Drake asked.
"Because all of the dragons that were killed radiated no aura of magic. Even dead, a bronze still bears an aura of the magic he or she was born with. But al of the dragons that they killed were lacking any magic whatsoever, which suggest rather strongly that it was stolen from them before they died," Sunstrike answered. "Otherwise, a residual magical aura would still be felt about the body."
"Yes, I can see where you're coming from, Sunny," Fireflash mused. "If only I could make contact with the Advocate, he examined Aventurine and Brightfang after we found them. He could tell us for certain if he sensed any magical aura about the bodies." He shook his head angrily. "Not that it really matters, whatever method they used the outcome was the same—a bronze's death. A crime guaranteed to send you on a one way trip to Inferno, if you're caught by a Hunter, or hell if I find them first."
Arista paused beside a clump of mulberry bushes to catch her breath, feeling for Scout with her mind. He was about fifteen miles ahead of them, tracking through the air while running along a riverbank. "Maybe it'll be easier if we fly instead of walk?" she suggested, wincing at her aching feet. "We can cover more ground that way."
Severus nodded. "Yes. I should have thought of that before." He pulled his broomstick off his rucksack and mounted it. "Just watch your flying, okay?" he cautioned the other two wizards. "No stupid Quidditch moves or anything like that. It's too close for acrobatics, and the last thing we need is for one of you to fall off and break your neck."
"Don't worry, sir. We'll be careful," Drake reassured his teacher. Then he kicked off from the ground and was airborne, hovering a good thirty feet in the air, just behind Severus and Arista, who led the way through the forest, following the elusive Scout.
"Now all we have to worry about are nosy Muggles and banging into tree trunks," Arista joked softly.
"How long d'you think he can track before he gets tired and has to rest?" Drake asked her.
Arista shrugged. "Don't know. He's got a lot of stamina, like most magehounds, but this kind of tracking's tough 'cause there are so many other scents to differentiate from. Sometimes he has to pause and let the other scents invading his nose clear before he can find the scent of evil again. Still, if I had to venture a guess, I'd say Scout'll probably track until it's dusk and then find a place to sleep."
They flew onward for another two or three hours, seeing nothing except an endless expanse of trees before Arista announced that Scout had finally decided to halt and rest for the night.
Severus removed the dog whistle from his pocket. "I'm calling him in then. He must be starving, he's run all day without food."
"Wait, Dad," Arista held up a hand. "The Hunters only use the whistle when they want their dog to quit the trail for good. We don't want him to do that. I can bring you to where he is now."
She flew off in a northwestern direction, flying easily around the trees. Some twenty minutes later they saw the dog, sitting down next to a small creek, panting slightly, his blue eyes alight with satisfaction. At their approach, he stiffened, fur bristling and snarled, something Snape had never seen him do before. Clearly he was in full Hunter mode, alert and ready for anything.
But he relaxed when he caught their scent and the snarl died and his tail wagged happily. The wizards landed next to the creek, thirsty and weary. Arista grinned at the big dog and held out a hand. Scout bounded up to her and licked her face. Hello! I haven't lost the trail, you know. I can find it easy tomorrow, he sent to her.
"I know you can. You're the best magehound in America," she told him, petting his silken ears. Then she lifted his paws to examine them for cuts or thorns. To her surprise, there were none. Scout's feet were unmarked, despite the race he'd run, his pawpads crisscrossed with old scars, but otherwise were in good condition.
"His feet are fine," she reported to her father, who had knelt down to pet and praise his dog as well. "Not even scratched. And he must have run at least twenty miles or more."
Severus rumpled the fur on the back of the magehound's neck. "He's a tough dog, right, Scout?" Scout barked an affirmative, then swiped his tongue across the Potion Master's face. Severus grimaced, then smiled. "That's my good dog. You've certainly earned your reputation today." He dug into his pocket and gave the hound a large strip of beef jerky.
"He says he can pick up the trail tomorrow, no problem, Dad," Arista translated the dog's emotions. "He says it's as easy as tracking a week old bunny to its burrow."
"For him, maybe," Drake laughed, reaching out to stroke the dog as well. "For the rest of us it'd be like searching for a needle in a haystack."
Severus rose, glancing around at the creek bank and walking a bit further to the right. Here the trees weren't so thick and there was a rather large grassy space where they could pitch their tent. "I think we should camp here for tonight. We're near water and this spot looks to be far enough away from any marked trails."
He heard the faint swish of dragon wings above him and then Fireflash shimmered into view. "I'd say this looks good, Sev. But it's a bit tight for us, so we'll keep sentry over there, across the creek, on those little set of bluffs," he swung his head, indicating a small ridge some two hundred yards away. "We're gonna hunt now, I saw some pretty good sized trout in a river not far from here. We'll see you in an hour or so, and we can keep watch at night, make sure nothing sneaks up on you. Nothing sees in the dark like dragon eyes."
"I'd appreciate it, Flash," Snape thanked the dragon. Then he knelt to remove the tent from his rucksack.
He had the tent up in a matter of seven minutes, it practically set itself up after you spoke the command word. It was roomier on the inside than on the outside, allowing them plenty of space to put their sleeping bags without banging into each other. Severus put a warming charm on the inside so they wouldn't freeze during the night, because nights in Washington could get pretty cold, even during the summer. There were small hanging curtains so you could compartmentalize the tent, as well as a tiny bathroom. The bathroom was basically a Port-O-John and a basin to rinse your hands once you filled it with water, but it was better than going outside in the middle of the night. It was spelled for an air freshener and to vanish the contents when the person was done using it.
Snape quickly set up his sleeping bag and blanket, then set a folding chair in the main part of the tent, lighting it up with a Lumos spell cast on the tent pole. "Go bring me some water from the creek, Arista," he ordered, unpacking the food and a small teapot. "I'll purify the water and then we can have tea and eat something."
Drake raised an eyebrow. "The water's not safe to drink?"
"It's not that it's contaminated, but sometimes there's bacteria in it that can make you sick if you're not used to it, that's what the wizard in the store told me," Snape explained. "So, better safe than sorry. Here." He handed Drake a few packets of the water purifier. "Put this in the basin in the bathroom before you wash your hands, Drake."
Drake took the packet and did as he was told. The last thing they needed was for one of them to come down with some kind of stomach virus. He wondered if he should put a packet in Scout's water dish, then did it anyway, though he knew the dog was probably resistant to the bacteria and wouldn't get sick.
He watched the dog drink down the water eagerly, then left to wash his hands before supper.
They didn't really need a fire, since all of their food could be heated by a simple warming charm, but Severus made one anyway, small enough for a bit of heat and light, just enough to heat up the tea water. They drank a soothing mint tea with a bit of sugar and ate chicken noodle soup and cheese sandwiches. Snape conjured his dog a whole 10-ounce steak with a bone in it as a reward for the fantastic job he'd done, and they all ate hungrily.
"It's too bad we didn't bring marshmallows and graham crackers and chocolate," Arista mourned. "Then we could have made S'mores."
"We're on a mission, not a holiday," her father reminded her. "Otherwise, we would have brought dessert."
"Too bad," Drake sighed wistfully, and leaned back against a tree, dreaming of melted marshmallows and chocolate smeared on graham crackers. Their supper, while filling and pretty tasty, was nothing compared to his mother's or the professor's cooking.
Dusk fell swiftly, bringing with it all the myriad sounds of the night, owls hooting, crickets and frogs, and masses of tiny biting midges and mosquitoes. Luckily, Snape remembered the bug stuff he'd bought at the camping store and they quickly put it on before they were bitten alive.
Afterwards, he said, "I want you two to practice some meditation techniques with me before we go to sleep. If the dragons are right, one of those dark wizards out there may be skilled in Legilimency, and could be get inside your head if you're not careful. I know you can shield your emotions, Arista, but that's not quite the same thing as Occlumency. So, we're going to have a short lesson right now." He eyed Drake sternly. "Do you know meditative breathing, Mr. Lockwood?"
"Yes, sir. Arista taught me last summer," he answered.
"Good. Eyes closed and breathe in for a count of ten," the Potions Master ordered.
They practiced Occlumency for about a half an hour. Arista proved a quicker study than Drake, since she was already familiar with mental disciplines, but even she couldn't match her father, and he could get past her defenses at least half of the time. Though she tried, she only managed to break into his thoughts twice.
"Concentrate, Lockwood!" he growled at his student. "I don't want to see images of a five year old's birthday party, you're giving me too much latitude. Again!"
But eventually, when Drake could block him out for at least two or three times, he called a halt. "This is basic stuff I'm teaching you, it won't prevent one who's truly gifted from entering your mind, but it will help you block out unwanted intrusions from someone who's scanning an area. I want you two to practice making your mind empty just before you go to sleep. Erase every thought from your head and just be. A blank slate leaves nothing for a Legilimens to pick up on."
Just then they heard a low howl. It was picked up by several others, until it seemed as if the whole forest echoed with the sound of the wolves howling. Scout raised his head from his paws, where he lay by Severus's feet, and whuffed softly. But otherwise he seemed unconcerned.
Drake glanced about in alarm, his gray eyes wide. "Where are they?"
"Far away from here," Arista answered calmly. "They just sound close. Scout says not to worry, the gray brothers won't harm us, they're just singing. Wolves never attack people, not unless they're rabid, Drake."
Drake cast her a skeptical glance. "They tell you that?"
"It's a fact. There's never been a case of a healthy gray wolf attacking a person in North America. They're more afraid of us than we are of them. With good reason too. We hunted them nearly to extinction fifty years or so ago. These wolves here are part of a new program by the US Fish and Game Service to reintroduce wolves back into the national forests, where they belong."
"Fine with me, so long as they don't decide to visit us in the middle of the night," the Slytherin boy said uneasily.
"Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf, Lockwood?" Arista teased, laughing. "That's a myth, you know."
"So are bronze dragons, according to the Ministry."
"The Ministry intentionally blinds itself to the truth," Snape interjected. "Don't believe everything they say, Lockwood. Half of it's lies to cover their backsides because they don't want to admit they're infallible. They allowed the Dragonslayer Guild free reign centuries ago, and the Dragon Exodus was the result. They did the same with You-Know-Who and we're still paying for it. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if the fugitives we're hunting here were once followers of him."
"D'you think they're trying to drum up support for him then, sir?" Drake cried.
"Anything's possible, Lockwood. You can't underestimate them, they'll do whatever gets them results, and what they want most is power, power to do whatever they damn well please. They obviously felt they couldn't get it at home, so they moved over here and started this new operation. Only they forgot to reckon with the fact that the bronze dragons wouldn't take something like this lying down."
"Or us either," Arista added firmly.
"Right. Now, I think you two ought to get some sleep. We'll probably be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow, if Scout follows procedure the way he's been trained." Severus said, scratching the sleepy hound's ear. Scout wriggled and groaned in pleasure, leaning into the Potion Master's hand for more petting. Severus was only too happy to oblige, rubbing his fingers along the dog's ear and behind it gently. Scout promptly fell asleep again, his head across Severus's knee.
The two teenagers weren't minded to protest and they disappeared inside the tent. Professor Snape remained outside, content for the moment to contemplate the stillness and the night. He considered casting wards of protection about the campsite, but then reasoned that between the dragons and Scout, they'd have ample warning if any unwanted guests came calling.
He pondered on who among his contacts among the Death Eaters might be behind this movement, but could think of none of the inner circle who would be willing to leave England, especially now, with Voldemort returned to the world. No, this must be one who was not part of the inner circle of thirteen, one who perhaps wasn't even a member, but who wanted to gain recognition by doing something particularly evil. Snape doubted that Voldemort had turned his eye on trying to conquer the western half of the world, he had his hands full just trying to subdue Britain and parts of Europe, never mind the United States.
Severus allowed himself a small grin at the mere thought of the Dark Lord trying to subdue this proud country, with its history of overthrowing tyrants. The bronze dragons alone could give Voldemort a terrific fight, never mind the Dark Hunters, and the rest of them. You'd be in a sorry state, Riddle, if you came over here, with dragons and Hunters just waiting to kick your ass back to hell. If he'd learned anything about Dark Hunters from his association with Colin and Jenna Flynn, it was that they weren't afraid to use deadly force when necessary. They were a lot more fierce and ruthless than their Auror counterparts, and when they needed to they could all cooperate together in a flash, and there were many of them, more than three times the number of Aurors in the entire Ministry. There were Dark Hunter Academies all over the States, though the first one had been based in New York City.
Too bad we couldn't invite a few bronzes over and set them loose on Lucius and company. I'd love to see that smug bastard try and handle a bronze dragon in full attack mode. Or maybe two or three at once. They'd wallop him like nobody's business or my name isn't Severus Snape. He smirked gleefully just imagining it, the arrogant suave Lucius, so quick to inflict harm on others, running for his life while above him three bronzes vied to be the one that scorched or tore him to pieces. A just reward for one who chose to go crawling back to lick the feet of the Dark Lord, to be a slave to evil instead of master of your own destiny.
He shifted slightly, for his foot was falling asleep because Scout was resting his head on it. First he would deal with these dragonslayers then he would see about Voldemort and his followers. If Dumbledore's faith in Harry Potter was not misplaced, the way he feared, Voldemort's reign of terror was about to end sooner than expected. And he, Severus Snape, would be there to watch it happen, and his redemption would be complete.
* * * * * *
The second morning followed the same pattern as the first, with Arista, Severus, and Drake following Scout on their broomsticks and Sunstrike and Fireflash soaring overhead. The magehound was nearly tireless in his pursuit, he ran himself to the edge of exhaustion without any urging on the part of his wizard companions. The hound's drive and determination impressed the hell out of the Potions Master, who had been inclined to think that the stories of the dog had been a little exaggerated, as often happened with one who had gained celebrity status.
But watching the dog hunt for over four days soon disabused Severus of that notion completely. Lockheed's Scout was everything they said about him and more. He never seemed to lose the trail, not even when it led right over water or rocks, and such obstacles only slowed the magnificent hunter down, never stopped him. The third day he continued on into the wilderness beyond the dusk, reluctant to abandon the hunt, until Arista convinced him to stop and rest. When she examined his paws, she discovered he'd run the top layer of skin right off them. He had not even felt it, he was so focused on finding his quarry.
The little Healer fixed them up in a twinkling, and gently scolded the dog for not taking more care with his feet. Scout simply shook his head and gnawed the gigantic ham bone Severus conjured for him. You worry too much, Arista. I'm a magehound, and a little thing like sore paws won't stop me from tracking. I always get my man, no matter how long the chase.
Severus estimated that they had traveled at least fifty miles or more since emerging from the portal, and in all that time they had not seen hide nor hair of another human being. They could have been the only people in the forest from their viewpoint. Except the dragons and the dog assured them they were not. This section of the forest was simply remote, further away from the hiking trails and the more populated campsites.
As they flew, Arista and Drake took turns challenging each other on recognizing plants and animals, making it a combination of Herbology and Magical Creatures Class. For the forest was home to several magical species, such as dryads, wood sprites, river nymphs, fairy dragons, and even a pride of griffins and a herd of pegasi and unicorns.
These showed themselves briefly to the traveling wizards, often offering a kind word before passing onward, respectful because of the bronze dragons, but not overawed by them.
Severus saw several rare plants and herbs that he would have loved to gather for some of his more advanced potions. He made a mental note to return this way once this quest was over and get some, for many of them were things he could only obtain by special mail order back in Britain and they cost a fortune.
The dog led them ever north and west, towards the great volcano, Mount St. Helen's, and soon enough Severus knew they would have to stop flying and start walking like ordinary Muggles. While he did not doubt there were wizard appointed forest rangers here, the majority of them were probably Muggles, and therefore could not be allowed to see magic being performed.
By the sixth day they had entered the part of the forest that was populated with tourists and it was then they had to put away their broomsticks for a time and continue on foot. As a result of the increasing number of tourists and rangers, Fireflash and Sunstrike had to fly masked way up above the clouds, for the rangers often offered tourists rides in helicopters over the volcano. The only one in the group who seemed unconcerned about their loss of speed was Scout, who simply kept hunting, following the evasive dark wizards deeper into the wilderness, counting on his wizard master and his daughter to catch up eventually.
A/N: Just a warning, something really bad happens in the next chapter. Care to guess what it is? And as always, please review.