A/N: Sorry for the long update! With school starting I really haven't had time to write. I shall try and be more regular now that I've settled into the schedule again. Then again, I still need to find a college to go to. sigh But I picked all my classes this year since I did all my requirements in 11th grade, so it's all fun AP Calc and AP Lit and Creative Writing and Programming. Save the easy stuff for the senior year, right? Anyway... thank you to all my faithful reviewers for sticking in with me and reading this chapter! (You guys are actually what inspired me to sit down and pump out another one. I felt bad leaving you hanging for so long.)

Faolan, whenever she woke at night, did not go outside anymore. She heeded Skylar's warning, and her own sense that Aric couldn't be trusted, and avoided him. But part of her had gotten to thinking- if Aric was still loyal to Valdemar, could he be convinced to become a spy? He, unlike her, was an adult, and thus could be trusted to do things a child could not. He could be sent to the front lines, and learn the battle plans that could be given to Valdemar… But that would involve revealing herself to Aric, and things became too complicated there. She'd have to trust her life to him, and why would he even believe her- even if she showed him Raul? No… it was an idea, but not a plausible one. Still… she itched to talk to him… just in case. The idea of an ally was far too tempting to totally let go of.

But Faolan also had other things to deal with. Like developing her Gifts, working on her Change, working her way deeper into the werewolf society, dreaming about Raleigh… Which Raul wouldn't speak of any more, making Fao deeply suspicious and also deeply worried. Raul said he hadn't woken up- but could it be possible that he had… died? Fao got her chance to ask Raleigh the next night.

"Raleigh, why are you here?" I asked with a sigh, fiddling as I watched the lanky man approach. He was not the same person as I, or rather, Carry, remembered him. Then, he had walked with a certain proud grace in his step. He was Captain, and for a good reason. He demanded respect, and was given it. But this man… this shadow, this ghost of Raleigh, that flitted through Faolan's dreams like an entity all his own… He was changed. He moved with the careful, scared step of the paranoid, the tormented, the weak.

"I don't know," he whispered, agony present in his words. I felt a mixture of anger and pity for him.

"You aren't a figment of my imagination, are you?" I inquired softly, staring into his soft gray eyes.

"I thought you were one of mine," he answered with a softer chuckle, "Unless we're both ghosts. Are we ghosts, Carry?"

"My name isn't Carry," I informed him, and immediately wondered whether that had been a good idea.

He stared at me for a long moment then sighed and looked away, "At least They aren't here. If I only I knew where here is. It's like a refuge. And you're always here, which makes it better."

"How long has Here been here?" I asked him, suddenly intrigued.

"I don't know," Raleigh shrugged, "Time is different. How long have I been a ghost?"

"You're not a ghost," I told him sharply, "You're a figment of my memory."

"I don't feel like a figment," he said with a wink, and I remember what Raul had said. She didn't think these WERE dreams, and if that was the case, then he really wasn't a figment of my imagination. But he couldn't be a ghost, because he wasn't dead- My gaze swiveled back to Raleigh and I stared at him intently, feeling hot and cold all at once. He was dead. That was why he was appearing in my dreams. He hadn't woken up, he had died. Raul- she wouldn't tell me because then I wouldn't be able to complete my duty- she wouldn't tell me for the sake of Valdemar. I felt a tight hand closing around my heart and I sank to my knees. How long would he stay? How could I hold him here when it was his time to go the Havens? Was it me who was holding him?

"FAOLAN!" a sharp toe dug into her side and the girl woke up were a jerk, tears stinging her eyes. It was still dark, but Fao knew it was near dawn.

"What?" she growled, wiping the tears from her eyes and feeling a deep, horrible rage at whoever had woken her from this all important not-dream.

"Up," Skylar said sharply and started to stalk out of the hut, but then he added, when Fao didn't move, "Now. No questions."

Faolan pulled herself out from under her furs and stalked after him angrily, feeling chilly and hungry and tired and most of all, pissed. Outside the air was fresh and Faolan inhaled it gratefully, pushing away her suspicions that Raleigh was dead. Raul would tell her if it was true and she had no time to dwell on it now. She could see a dark shape that was Skylar moving through the huts and she trotted after him, noticing the coolness of the ground. The seasons were changing.

He stayed ahead of her, leading her out of the village and through the trees, almost a mile. He did not stop until reaching a river, one Faolan hadn't known about. She assumed the stream probably went into it and decided to follow the stream here someday. Skylar was perched on a rock at the edge of the bubbling waters, and the rising sun had struck him in the face. His eyes were closed and he faced east, absorbing the light and warmth.

Fao slowly crept over and crawled up on the smooth rock next to him. It was a pale stone, and worn down by the river's water over time. Faolan liked it. Around her, birds were chirping voraciously- the world was waking up. For a long time Skylar did not speak. When he finally did, he did it without opening his eyes and his voice was low and soft.

"There comes a time in every life," Skylar slowly began, "When great change comes about."

Faolan stared at him, puzzled. What was he talking about?

"The lines are being pushed back every day," Skylar said, and now he opened his eyes. Faolan saw sadness reflected in those dark eyes, and wondered what it was from. He turned around and faced more west and said, "Over there, just over those hills, those mountains, our brothers and sisters are dying Faolan. Soon this village that we have made our home will be overrun with bloodthirsty Valdemarens. If they reach us, they will spare none of us. We shall all be killed. Do you want to know why, Faolan?"

He looked down at her, dark eyes meeting lighter ones and Faolan obediently asked, "Why?"

"Because we're werewolves," he said and turned back to the west, the sun beating now against his back and tangly hair, "They will not spare the children. For them, a werewolf is not human, a werewolf is incapable of human emotion. Do you know what this has taught me?"

"What?" Faolan cautiously ventured.

"We are not human," he answered grimly, "We are werewolves. From the moment we were born or bitten, we ceased to be human. What are you, Faolan?"

Faolan stared up at him, wondering if she was actually expected to answer. She wanted to cry out, 'No you're wrong! We are human!' but she wasn't sure if she could, or if she did, what Skylar would say to that. Finally Skylar looked back down at her, seeking out her stressed eyes.

"You are a very bright seven year old," he said, "But maybe I shouldn't be having this discussion with you just yet." Then he shrugged.

"But maybe I should," he continued, and turned back to face the east, "Because great change came in your life before you were ready to deal with it. How did you feel when I woke you up this morning?"

"Mad," Faolan confessed, "Sad."

"Good," Skylar said with a smile, and though he gazed at the sunrise still, Fao knew it was for herself, "But you are not mad now, are you?"

"I got over it," Faolan said.

"You are getting very close to being where a normal seven year old werewolf is in their change," Skylar told her, "And I commend you for this accomplishment.
"But you still have more to learn. Strong, powerful emotions are linked to the wolf part of you, Faolan. I'm not sure if you noticed, but when I jabbed you awake this morning, you were half into werewolf form."

Faolan stared at him, thinking back and feeling horrified. Was this some sort of a trap, or just another lesson? What did he expect of her? And most of all… was Raleigh dead?

"What were you dreaming of?" he inquired gently, his voice not prying at all, "Out of curiosity?"

"I…" Faolan stuttered, because she couldn't very well tell him about Raleigh, "I uh… I don't remember dreaming…"

"Hmm," Skylar smiled, "Well. I want you to summon up the strongest emotion you can think of right now. Don't think about being a werewolf, just concentrate on that emotion, and why you feel like that. Build it and embrace it."

Faolan nodded, and let herself think of Raleigh. She remembered the way he looked in her dream. He looked broken, tortured… gone. There was a man who'd never walk in life again, never see the light of day and laugh. Tears once more sprung into Faolan's eyes. She'd never see him laugh, never hold his hand and feel him hold her hand back. She'd never be with him as he rode a horse or read a book in the light of a warm, sunny afternoon.

Raleigh, she thought sadly, You aren't going to wake up, are you? And then she thought, Neither am I. We both die at the end of this story.

"Look," Skylar's voice was so low it barely penetrated Faolan's thoughts, but she did look. Gray and red hairs were sprouting from her arms. Her bones were changing shape. And suddenly, without realizing it, Faolan sat in wolf form, a lanky puppy, upon the rock beside Skylar. She looked over at him with sad, wolf eyes and felt a deep longing to howl, and in that way tell him how she felt.

Skylar stared back at her for what felt like ages. The sun crept higher into the sky. The birds started to quiet down from their dawn escapades. And then he leaned over and embraced her, wrapping his arms around her furred body tightly. Startled, Faolan started to pull away, but then she relaxed and rested her head on his shoulder.

When he pulled away he gave her a slight nod and Faolan, understanding, lifted her nose to the paling sky and in the way only a werewolf can, she cried to the rising sun. Her howl, high pitched and mournful, lifted up over the woods and the valley. It rose alone, as it always would be, and when Faolan was done she slipped back into human form.

Neither Skylar nor Faolan spoke as they walked back to camp. It was only when they sat around the fire, ripping the meat from the bones of a deer that Skylar looked at her curiously and inquired, "What made you howl like that?"

Faolan blinked at him over her meat and pretended that the reason she wasn't answering was because she was eating. He saw through her ploy easily, but spoke for her anyway.

"The only time I've heard a werewolf howl like that…" he started and then shrugged, "But maybe I shouldn't be making assumptions. You have a lot to be sad about. Nor do you have to talk about it to me. But I guess I'd kind of like it if you considered me your friend, and trusted me enough to talk to me."

Faolan stared at him, but Skylar only stood up and moved among the other werewolves, speaking to them about other things. It was a long time before she continued eating, and as she did she stared at the dirt, thinking. It was true, she didn't really talk to the werewolves. How could she, knowing she was only betraying them with every breath she drew? But she liked Skylar. She liked Taryn, and despite the pain in her heart she felt when thinking of it- they were her friends.