A/N: Hugs to Zarathustra for her hard work in getting my commas and grammar under control. Hugs to SortingHat47 for expecting me to do my best--you're tough, but you're usually right!
Thanks so much to all of you who have reviewed and put this story on alert! I truly appreciate it. Taigne, just wanted to tell you I wish I had your email address so I could respond to your reviews. Thanks for your encouragement!
Warning: More centaurs in this chapter. I am now completely insane because of the centaur-speak. And just so you know, I did actual research for the names of these centaurs:
Aequitas: equality; fairness
Celeritas: quickness; swiftness
Justicia: justice; equitability
Dulcidine: sweetly; charmingly
And just in case you hadn't figured it out, Libertas means liberty; freedom. (Yes, it was rather ironic.)
Disclaimer: All the centaurs that drove me insane are mine. Moody and Lupin, however, are not. They belong to JKRowling.
Chap. 28: Redemption
Friday, 21 March, 1985—6:07 p.m.
When Moody entered the house, the first thing he noticed was that water droplets were sliding down the soft leather of Lupin's jacket, which was hanging on a peg near the front door. As a light rain had only been falling for the past hour, he theorised that either the younger man had been out doing some shopping or had just got in from his job search.
Hoping that Remus had returned late from the job hunt because he had actually got one, Moody stumped into the kitchen.
"Hope you don't mind spaghetti," the werewolf said as soon as the Auror came into the kitchen. "I just got back a few minutes ago, and didn't have time to do anything else."
Moody waved a hand at him dismissively. "Sounds good." He went to the icebox and tugged at the door to open it. "Want a butter—" The rest of his question was lost as he realised the icebox was completely filled. He looked over at Remus, who was busily preparing a salad. "Lupin? Did you kidnap a house-elf? Or rob a grocery store?"
The younger man glanced over his shoulder and grinned. "Neither. I got a job today. Of sorts."
The Auror pulled the butterbeer out of the icebox and sat down at the table. "That's good news, I suppose. Where?"
Briefly, Remus told him about the pawnshop, and the conversation with the older man. "It turns out that Josiah has a brother who's a werewolf," Remus said, who hadn't paused in his dinner preparations.
"How did you get around to talking about that?" wondered Moody.
Remus smiled. "I was warning him that sometimes I'd have to ask for days off because I'd get sick because of a blood disorder. And then I told him I had lycanthropy."
"You did what?" The butterbeer bottle came down onto the table with a thump so hard that the liquid splattered in all directions.
"I didn't think he'd know what it meant," Remus said with a self-conscious smile. "But he did. And then he told me his brother was bitten thirty years ago. Barney's wife died soon after, but with Josiah's help, Barney was able to keep his business. Josiah minds the shop when Barney's not well. And now that he's almost sixty years old, he's — not well a lot." Lupin's voice got very quiet as he continued, "He's a Muggle, so he doesn't have access to the potions that help on the day after a transformation. He's crippled and arthritic and —" He broke off, pretending to concentrate on grating cheese over their salad bowls.
Moody could tell by the hunching of the younger man's shoulders that it was extremely difficult to talk about. He knew why. He had seen older werewolves — men and women who had somehow lived through years of heartbreak and struggle, joblessness and homelessness, and sometimes even the loss of family and love — who had become physically twisted and deformed because of the stress on a werewolf's body. No body was designed to handle the monthly torture of bones breaking, muscles shifting, and the mind of murderous intent that was forced upon it. And the older one got, the harder it was to take.
The image of Remus, twisted and helpless, rose to the forefront of his mind and he shoved it viciously aside…
The Auror cleared his throat as forcefully as he had cleared his mind. "Did you get the job in the pawnshop then?"
Remus chuckled, though it was forced. "Actually, no. Josiah needed someone to mind the store while he's helping Barney during the days before and after the full moon. Obviously, I'm not the right one for that. But," he said quickly, "I nipped over to Diagon Alley and picked up some pain potions for Barney, as well as some other things that help me. I found out that Josiah and Barney had been travelling to Josiah's farm in the country for every full moon. It's hard for them to get there, because of the pain that Barney has. So, I set up some wards in the ground floor of their shop to hold the wolf and make the Ministry happy, tossed up some Silencing Charms and then laid out some cushioning charms on the floor and walls. I'm to go back every month and strengthen them. They'll pay me the Muggle equivalent of five Galleons each time."
"The Ministry requires werewolves to transform a fair distance from a residence. The ground floor of the shop can't possibly be far enough away," Moody said thoughtfully.
"It isn't really, but Barney says they haven't even sent him a notice for his annual physical for the past three years. When he's asked them about it, they've had him come in, but they know he's really not capable of breaking out on his own now." He began bringing the food to the table. "Barney's wolf is as crippled as he is."
"So you've got the job of setting the wards and all for them each month?" Moody made himself useful by getting plates and cutlery.
"Yes, and for another werewolf that they know. She usually goes to the Ministry, but was relieved when I told her I could set something up for her."
"If the Ministry knows she goes there monthly, she may want to warn them ahead of time that she's had the warding done so they don't send someone after her," Moody said warningly.
He heard Remus sigh slightly. "I told her that," the younger man said in a low voice. "Fortunately, her house is right outside the city limits and there's enough room between her garage and the neighbours that she won't be violating the distance restraints dictated by the Ministry."
They began to eat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. "You didn't need to fill the icebox," Moody said finally.
The younger man stiffened slightly, but replied with a lopsided smile, "It's only right, don't you think? Since you spent so much on the ingredients for the potions that made me well and all?"
Moody had been an Auror for too long to let Remus' deduction faze him. "I didn't tell you I had done that because I didn't want you to feel obligated to pay me back."
"I know, I just —" Remus stopped, took a deep breath and started again. "I had a sort of understanding with James and Peter and — Sirius. I'd pay when I could, and if I couldn't, I'd make it up to them later." He shrugged. "It seemed to work, more or less."
Moody had suspected an agreement of that nature had existed between the young men, but this was the first time he'd heard it spoken aloud. He could only guess at the pride that was being swallowed right now for Remus to explain the situation. And he could only feel honoured by the fact that Remus thought he'd be willing to be part of the same sort of arrangement. The lecture on how Remus couldn't get out on his own if he was hell-bent on paying Moody back would have to wait.
"That's fine, then," he grunted, reaching for the bowl of spaghetti. He changed the subject abruptly to tell Remus about a case he'd been working on, involving a stuffed toy bear, some Dark magic, and a teenager with a grudge against his stepfather.
Saturday, 22 March — 3:41 a.m.
"Wolf."
The tone tonight was disapproving, as it had been for the past week.
"I know, I know," Remus said with a sigh. "I haven't done what you asked me to do."
Libertas reared slightly, bringing his forefeet back down hard enough to send fragments of tanbark everywhere.
"I'll go after the full moon," the werewolf said. "Give me a day or two to recover, and then I'll go."
"Why do you fear this?" Libertas demanded.
Remus stared at him in disbelief. "Have you met centaurs? They're not exactly easy to talk to, especially when you're giving them bad news."
"You know not of what you speak. When a tree falls, do you mourn? You rejoice in the knowing that the tree will now provide others with food as it decays; it provides sanctuary for animals and insects. You become aware that there is new light, because the sun shines where branches once waved, and there are new shadows to be discovered. There is no mourning without the joy of knowing that there is more beyond the life that was lost."
"And then I lose my life when I tell them I took yours."
"You worry needlessly."
"I killed you! How could they forgive that?"
"You worry needlessly."
"Says the one who's already dead."
"Keep your eyes on the stars, wolf. You will find your way through this."
"You know, I really hate that you keep calling me 'wolf.'"
"I know." The centaur grinned broadly.
Remus stared at him. "Are you teasing me? You, a centaur — It's impossible."
"You have spent your life with humans — with wizards — who will say it is impossible for certain things to happen. You should think like a centaur, and believe that all things are possible."
Saturday, 29 March—11:18 a.m.
Remus stood at the edge of the forest, his head tilted to the side, his thumb lightly rubbing his bottom lip.
A large oak loomed over him to his left. A graceful birch with a smaller evergreen pressed against its side marked the right side of the trail upon which he was standing. This was the forest that he'd seen in his dreams. This was the Mersey Forest where he had come with his dad one time to catch an escaped Snidget. This was the forest in which Libertas had been born and from which he had run away.
And somewhere in its depths, Libertas' family still lived. Hopefully.
Remus adjusted the backpack dangling by one strap from his shoulder and took a deep breath. "Stop pissing about, Lupin," he muttered. He forced himself to move past the birch and into the shadows cast by the early spring sun through the branches.
Early in the year as it was, the underbrush wasn't as tangled and impenetrable as it might have been if it had been late summer. It was fairly easy to move through the forest, to move off the path in order to search for hoofprints in the mud. The only impressions seemed to be those made by small deer, though he saw no other sign of them either.
Where in the world could a centaur herd be hiding? This forest isn't that big.
And yet, two hours of searching seemed to offer no more clues as to how he could find anything bigger than a squirrel or a hedgehog.
He stopped to rest, seating himself on a fallen elm and dropping his backpack on the forest floor. It was only two days after the full moon and, though the transformation had gone better than he could have expected, he was starting to feel the strain.
He was shaking slightly as he unwrapped and ate the ham sandwiches he had prepared for himself earlier that morning. But the food seemed to help, because his hand was steady when he washed it down with a butterbeer. He had brought a Strengthening Potion, but decided not to take it yet. He might need it later if the search went on much longer.
He tossed his garbage back into his pack and stood up, taking a deep breath as he did. There was the slightest scent, something familiar, something — equine... He froze in the act of slinging the pack up on his shoulder, feeling his hackles rise, the prickling sense that someone was watching him. Slowly, he turned.
I should have known that this wasn't about me finding them; it was about them finding me…
Two centaurs were standing perhaps three small dragon-lengths away. Both had spears in their hands.
Remus slowly lowered his pack to the ground again and held his palms out so they could see he had nothing in them. "I know I don't belong here," he said, in lieu of an actual greeting. "But I am seeking one of your kind."
One of the centaurs, a young male with a dappled grey body pawed at the earth almost angrily. "And what would you want with one of our kind, man? Are you in need of fortune-telling? You need to know about romance, or wealth, or power?"
Remus smiled gently. "No. I would never expect a centaur to lower himself for such a base purpose. I come with a message. No — with news."
"What news would you have that would possibly interest us?" the other centaur asked. He was slightly older than the grey, and his hide was a bright chestnut. Remus couldn't help but think of Libertas.
"I have news of one of your kind," Remus said, licking his lips nervously and feeling his heart beat a little faster.
"Then tell us the news and be gone," the chestnut snapped.
Remus shook his head. "I would speak to the sire or dam of Libertas."
The grey reared slightly in surprise. The chestnut stood frozen to the ground, but his countenance darkened. "What do you know of Libertas?" he demanded, shooting a disgusted look at his companion.
"That is for his sire and his dam to know," Remus said, forcing himself to speak calmly, determined not to let them see how uneasy their reaction had made him.
The two centaurs exchanged glances. The younger one said something quietly to the chestnut who gave a quiet reply and then they looked back at Remus.
The chestnut took several steps toward him. "We would know your name, wizard."
Remus told them and then waited with bated breath as the chestnut drew even closer.
The centaur stopped suddenly and adjusted the grip on his spear, tilting the tip just a little more toward Remus. "You are a wolf," he stated, sounding slightly alarmed.
"I am," Remus assented.
"Yet you are a wizard." It was not a question. It was a statement of fact by the grey.
"I am," Remus said again.
The two centaurs again looked at each other, and something nonverbal passed between them. They both turned and walked away from Remus without another word.
"Wait!" Remus called.
The chestnut didn't stop, though he did look back over his shoulder. "Stay, wolf." And then they disappeared behind a cluster of rhododendrons.
Remus exhaled noisily. "No doubt they're related to you, Libertas," he muttered, remembering all the dreams that he'd had in which Libertas would walk away or disappear without explanation.
He sat back down on the log and stared in the direction that the centaurs had gone. He wanted to follow them, but he'd been given his orders, and stay he would. Truth be told, he'd do nearly anything, as long as it didn't jeopardise his purpose.
He waited. And waited. And waited some more. Finally, he stood and began pacing back and forth, rubbing his tense neck muscles. The chilly breeze that had been playing among the trees had become even cooler, and he noticed that clouds were starting to gather in the south. How much longer do I wait? They're centaurs. They're probably arguing about what to do with me. I could be here for days before they decide whether to talk to me or spear me.
He was starting to feel shaky again, so he sat down and started to paw through the backpack for the Strengthening Potion.
A twig cracked, and he glanced up quickly as the scent of equine bodies reached his nostrils.
The chestnut and dapple-grey had returned along with a young female centaur whose hide was a dark bay with shockingly bright white feet. An arrow was already nocked against the string of the bow that she was carrying.
They stopped when they saw him look up, but then the chestnut stepped forward, away from the others. "I am Celeritas," He tilted his head back toward the younger centaurs. "He is Kiernan. She is Justicia." You will follow him. Justicia and I will follow." He hesitated and then said, "Aequitas is the sire of Libertas, and we are taking you to him. Dulcidine, mate of Aequitas and dam of Libertas, is no more. Aequitas is what you might call an elder in our herd. You will give him the respect he deserves."
Remus nodded. "I understand."
"Come then, wolf."
For twenty minutes, Remus followed Kiernan's spotted hindquarters and black tail through the forest. They rarely followed a trail, and once, when they did, Remus glanced back to see Justicia wiping away any traces of hoofprints with a leafy branch. Well, that certainly explains a lot…
But suddenly, Kiernan stopped, and Remus stumbled to a halt, just managing not to bump into the centaur's tail.
"Have you brought him?"
Remus peered around Kiernan, looking for whoever had spoken, and his eyes widened. Six, ten, thirteen… Gods! There have to be twenty centaurs here!
Celeritas suddenly moved, grabbing Remus' arm and pulling him forward until the werewolf stood squarely within a half-circle of centaurs. "This is the wolf, Remus Lupin."
Shit! Not one of the centaurs looked friendly.
An older centaur stood exactly in the middle of the half-circle. His coat was chestnut, shot through with white hairs of age, as was the brown hair on the top of his human head. His arms were folded across his chest, and a scowl twisted his lips. But there was no mistaking the fact that the scowl and the eyes and the set of the jaw were very familiar.
"You are Aequitas, the sire of Libertas?" Remus asked quietly, knowing the answer already.
"You are a guest, wolf. You will answer our questions," the centaur said sharply.
Remus bowed his head in acquiescence and waited.
"What news have you brought of Libertas?"
Remus raised his head and squared his shoulders, taking a deep breath. "I came to tell the family of Libertas that he'd been imprisoned for the past five years."
Mumbling broke out among the centaurs. Angry mumbling.
"And you know this — how?" the older centaur demanded.
"I was a prisoner as well, though only for a few months," Remus said.
"What manner of place is this, that would imprison a centaur?" asked a centaur next to Libertas' sire. "And sun-sickened enough to hold a man-wolf?"
"A desperate place," Remus said, clasping his hands firmly behind him. He was too used to putting his hands in his pockets, and he feared if he tried to do that now, a spear or arrow would find its mark before he would have the chance to explain it was habit: not that he was reaching for a wand or other weapon. "It was a carnival: a place to exhibit various animals and creatures for the amusement of humans."
"Ask the wolf, Aequitas, how it is that he is here with news of Libertas, but he did not bring Libertas himself," Justicia suddenly demanded, her green eyes glittering with fury.
Remus looked up at Aequitas, realising that the moment of truth was now here. And the centaurs were not any happier than they had been.
If I get out of here with only one hole in my hide, it'll be a bloody miracle.
The stallion's gaze was so sharp, it nearly pierced Remus through. "Where is Libertas?"
"Libertas —" Remus took a deep breath, and then used the words he remembered from his conversation with Laureola: "His star has fallen."
There were gasps from all around him, but he kept his eyes on the centaur in front of him. There was no sign that Aequitas was disturbed by the news until the centaur spoke again. His voice sounded tired.
"What was the manner of his falling?"
Remus swallowed hard. "I had helped him escape, but the men at the carnival caught up to him and shot him."
There was movement as the centaurs around him agitatedly pranced or muttered to each other. Only Aequitas and Celeritas remained still, as if carved from polished wood.
"Those men – killed him?" Aequitas asked, seeking verification.
"Not — exactly," Remus admitted. Inside his head, James was telling him to shut up, that they didn't need to know the exact truth; Peter was groaning. Sirius' voice, however, was surprisingly calm: "Steady on, Moony. You can do this."
"He was dying," Remus continued, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the one who looked very much like an older version of Libertas. "The men asked me to heal him. I have some – knowledge of taking care of — others. There was only one thing I could do." He took a deep breath again and said the words, wondering if he was condemning himself to death, "I gave him mercy."
There was a moment as his words sank in, and then chaos erupted around Remus. In the midst of it, rough hands grabbed him and threw him to the ground. His head cracked against a branch or stone lying on the forest floor, stunning him so he couldn't move, except to close his eyes as he saw the spear point descending —
"NO!" There was the sound of hooves near his head, and bits of mulch and dirt pelted his face. He winced and kept his eyes closed.
Two males were arguing, and it sounded like they were standing right over him. He slowly opened his eyes, regretting it as he realised that the darkness over him was a centaur's body, and the stick he could see out of the corner of his right eye was the shaft of a spear driven into the ground only inches from his head. He closed his eyes again as a hoof thumped into the ground next to his left ear.
Some Gryffindor you are, Lupin. Afraid of homicidal horses…
"I would hear the rest of this story!"
"He killed him, Aequitas!"
"He gave him mercy!"
"He killed your son! He killed my brother!"
Brother?!
"You are hasty to judgment, Celeritas! I will hear the wolf's words!"
"I would hear the wolf's words also!" cried a girl's voice.
No, Remus thought. Not a girl. Justicia.
"As the young sapling must yield to the ancient voice of the wind," came another voice, stoic, strong, "you, Celeritas, must yield to your father's will."
There was silence and Remus felt a sharp smack against his arm. His eyes snapped open involuntarily as he reached to rub the abused bicep.
"Get up," Celeritas snarled.
The two centaurs took a step back as he staggered to his feet. His head swam dizzyingly, and he fell back down to his knees.
"He bleeds," Justicia said bluntly.
His stomach wasn't all that happy about the situation either, and he struggled to keep his food from making a reappearance. "If I could have my pack," he whispered, keeping his teeth firmly together, and swallowing hard, "I've got something that will help."
Kiernan picked up his backpack and opened it. "What should I look for, wolf?"
"A small vial — Shit," Remus whispered the vulgarity. His head was thumping with every word, and it was amazing to him that he could speak coherently. "Blue potion," he added quickly, pressing his palms to his head.
A moment later, the vial appeared in his peripheral vision and he took it with a mumble of gratitude. He hadn't expected to use the potion for healing that he had brought, but now he was glad he had thought twice about it. The pain inside and on the right side of his head receded quickly, though there was still blood smeared in his hair. It would have to wait until he was finished, however.
"Tell me," Aequitas ordered once Remus had got to his feet.
It was only two words, but there was an ocean of meaning within them. So, Remus started at the beginning, from the moment that he had first realised that 'Bertie' was a centaur to the moment that he had ended Libertas' suffering at the centaur's plea for mercy. He stopped, uncertain of whether to continue or not, but when Aequitas didn't say anything, he went on.
"I've had dreams since then, that Libertas wanted me to come here." Remus offered a lopsided smile. "He seemed quite adamant about it, really."
"You have dreamt of him?" Aequitas repeated, his eyebrows rising slightly.
Remus nodded. He thought about telling the centaur stallion that his son had been bloody irritating about the whole thing, but decided that was not a wise choice.
The elder centaur took a step toward him. "And you came here, with his blood on your hands, to tell us this story?"
Celeritas was adjusting the grip on his spear, but Remus spared him only the quickest sidelong glance. "Yes," he replied. "It seemed only right to let those who loved him know that he was gone."
"We have heard his story," Celeritas said harshly. "By his own admission, he slew my brother. Justice should be served!" He slammed the butt of the spear into the ground. As if the centaur's vehemence had summoned it, rain began to fall in small, pelting drops.
Several voices merged together angrily, calling for 'justice.' Remus could only assume that meant nothing good for him.
Kiernan hesitantly came forward to stand next to Celeritas. "But if justice is to be served, should we not look for the men who imprisoned and shot Libertas? This wolf," he motioned to Remus, "did nothing but ease Libertas' suffering."
"We have no voice to say that Libertas was dying but the wolf's," Celeritas snapped.
"That is not true," Justicia claimed loudly. "We have the voice of Libertas himself."
"How can you say that?" Libertas' brother asked disbelievingly. "Has the voice of Libertas drifted on the air, through the leaves and branches? Has Libertas somehow communicated through the singing of the birds, or the chattering of the squirrels?" He chuckled humourlessly. "No. He has not. He has fallen, Justicia, and the creature that destroyed him is before us now!"
"She is right," Aequitas suddenly said quietly, stilling Celeritas immediately. "Wolf, you say Libertas came to you in your dreams and told you to come to us."
"Yes," Remus said. He dared not say any more, because he had no idea where Aequitas was going with this line of questioning.
"Libertas does not hold this wolf at fault," Aequitas announced.
"How can you say that?" Celeritas demanded.
"Your words are as quick as your name," admonished a centaur who had spoken earlier. "You do not give yourself time to reason. Can the secrets of the stars be discerned in a matter of minutes? No. You would do well to remember that, young Celeritas."
"The sun pierces clouds and the fog fades," Aequitas said. "Can you not feel the sun? Can you not understand the message that was sent to us by my son, your brother?"
Remus had to admit he felt as confused as Celeritas looked at that moment.
Justicia tossed her head, flinging her rain-dampened hair over her back and exposing her naked breasts. "The clouds of Venus are not as dense!" she said disdainfully. "The sun of truth touches you, Celeritas, and you refuse to be warmed by it. The wolf brings the truth with him. He brings the sun's warmth, which should burn through your doubts."
Aequitas actually smiled. "Would the wolf have come if he were guilty? He would be moon-mad to come here if he had killed Libertas in cold blood. He says Libertas sent him. Would Libertas send him to us for justice? No. Libertas would send us to him, knowing he'd never come to us."
Remus closed his eyes for a moment, wondering if he was following the centaur's rationale.
"The storm of guilt would have clouded his mind and kept Libertas from reaching him," another centaur was saying. "The wolf's presence here means that he is only here seeking redemption."
"Redemption is impossible without atonement," Celeritas snorted. "He should pay for my brother's life with his own life!"
"I nearly did," Remus muttered, not expecting to be heard over the noise created by the centaurs at Celeritas' words.
"Then now is the time to prove it," Justicia suddenly whispered in his ear. "Prove to us, wolf, that you suffered for the death of Libertas, and all will be forgiven."
He shivered as much from her words as from the rain. "How can I possibly prove it to anyone's satisfaction?" Remus asked breathlessly.
"If Libertas has come to you, you have already proven it to his satisfaction," Justicia replied.
Remus stared into the green eyes, and then took a deep breath. Slowly, keeping his hands where the centaurs could see them at all times, he lowered himself to the now-damp ground and began unlacing his left boot. Slowly, all voices died out as Remus removed the boot and sock, and then rolled his pant leg up to his calf.
The dark bay filly sidestepped, allowing the centaurs to see the thick, red scarring that encircled Remus' ankle.
"I have seen what silver does to a wolf," Aequitas remarked. "This was intentional?"
"This was part of the punishment given to me for helping Libertas escape Parsons' cages," Remus said. He held up his right hand. "Parsons smashed my hand, too, but a very talented healer took care of it."
Justicia suddenly grabbed his hand and allowed a dirty finger to trace over the thickened, pale lines on his palm. "There is scarring there, if any should doubt…"
No one said a word. And for a long moment, no one moved. Then slowly, all eyes went to Aequitas, and Remus felt his heart thump a little harder.
"I am satisfied," Aequitas pronounced, and he made a dismissive gesture at Remus. "Set the wolf free so he may return to his – kind."
Immediately, several centaurs began to either turn or back away as if, now having heard Aequitas' verdict, there was no reason for them to remain. But, over the sounds of pattering rain, cracking twigs and shuffling underbrush, a voice was heard…
"NO!" yelled Celeritas. "I demand that the wolf be made to pay for the murder of my brother!"
A few centaurs continued moving away. Others stopped, turning to watch the young chestnut stallion approach his sire almost threateningly.
Aequitas shook his head. "I understand your desire for justice, but the wolf is not to blame."
Celeritas bared his teeth, seemingly unable to control his anger enough to vocalise an argument.
"Think, Celeritas. According to what we've heard today, twice — twice — Libertas trusted this wolf enough to ask him to do something important. If Libertas trusted the wolf, with his death and then with his memory, should we not also trust the wolf?"
The younger centaur's shoulders and tail began to droop.
"If it is justice you seek," Aequitas continued, "you must seek it against the one who imprisoned Libertas and arranged his death." He looked over at Remus. "The man's name is Parsons?"
Remus nodded just once then clarified hoarsely, "Bill Parsons. He's one of the owners of Bentley and Parsons Carnival of Dark and Dangerous Creatures."
"The wolf should still pay," Celeritas said sullenly.
"He has," Aequitas said softly. "Now, respect your brother's wishes to help the wolf find mercy." At Remus' startled glance, he smiled. "Is that not why you came, wolf? To find mercy of another kind?"
Well? Only two more chapters and an epilogue to go. Let me know what you think!
