Her mother's screams woke her the next night. The sheets were damp and wet. The baby was coming. Moira tried to remember what her mother had taught her the last time she had help deliver a baby. She got her mother a damp rage to wipe away her tears and sweat. Her mother was soon coughing up blood, crying. The vampires had left when they smelled the blood in fear of killing Moira, Beatrice, and now the baby. Her promise to her mother still rang in her ears. To kill the baby once it was born. To be strong. But now her mother was dying in labor. Her skin looked grey and she had lost an unhealthy amount of weight in the last month. Moira knew she wouldn't live through this, but still fought to keep her mother alive.
"Take this, please," her mother clawed for the stone pendant that always hung around her neck. Moira use to play with it when she was young. It was a brown stone in the shape of a Celtic knot with an emerald in the centre. She took it from her dying mother, putting it around her. Energy flowed through her as she wore it. "I give you my magic. I don't need it anymore. You are the greatest magic and miracle in my life. I love you," her mother whispered slowly losing the strength to speak.
Moira watched her mother's stomach move as the baby shifted. It pressed against the dry skin of her belly, searching for a way out. The thing was a demon like its father, probably with black claws and glowing red eyes. Teeth like a wolf's. Nothing human running through its veins. Only a disgusting, ugly monster. The thing killing her mother.
Blood seeped through her mother's white night gown, blossoming. The thing was clawing through her stomach, fighting to get out. Using the knife, Moira cut away the fabric. "You. Need. To. Cut. It. Out. Of. Me," her mother panted between her wails. With a shaky hand, she pressed the knife to her mother's belly. Be strong. The knife slid through, slicing away the weak flesh. Moira could now see a small, unclawed hand. There was blood everywhere, making her stomach twist. She turned away throwing up before returning to remove the parasite inside her mother.
The baby was beautiful as she held the knife to its throat. Soft, blonde hair that reminded her of a baby duck. Round rosy cheeks and smooth pale skin. But the baby's eyes caught her attention. They were her mother's eyes, green and warm. His eyes met hers and were filled with love and wonder. She couldn't kill it. This thing was too innocent. The dagger fell from her hand. "Do it," her mother croaked, "be strong." Setting the baby down so her mother could see it, Moira prayed her mother would change her mind. "I can't, Momma," she shook her head, hugging the baby close to her chest. Her mother looked at her with fury in her eyes. Her last words were, "I told you to be strong and you chose to be weak. You have failed me." The light and warmth left her eyes as she died, disappointed in her only child and abandoned by her husband. The baby started to cry when Moira broke down, begging for her mother to come back, that she was sorry, just come back. "Momma, please," she cried in anguish. Her mother only looked at her with cold, dead eyes before Moira wiped her face and found the strength to close her eyes. She covered the body with a sheet. All that was left of her mother was an empty husk.
The pendant around her neck was now cold and heavy. In frustration she kicked one of the chairs that accompanied the small table. She threw the books on the counter across the room, screaming. She felt herself shatter all the windows, clenching her fists. The coals, faintly glowing in the fire place exploded in flames. Wind tore freely through the cabin, ripping off cabinet doors and blowing sheets of paper everywhere as Moira screamed and screamed. Angry at herself. Angry at her captors. Angry at the world. But somehow she was not angry at the baby boy who lay helplessly next to her dead mother. He started to whimper hungrily. She cradled the baby in a blanket as she sorted through the mess, trying to find something for it to eat. She had no idea what babies ate except milk, but that was an impossibility since her mother was dead and Moira was too young. She hadn't even had her first bleeding. The baby boy still smiled at her, happy and safe in her arms. She noticed he had, small pearly white teeth sticking from his wee little gums. Maybe when her captors came back they could get him something to eat.
"Ouch", she yelped. The baby had bit her shoulder lightly as she rested its large head on her shoulder. She pulled it away as it cried hungrily. Moira waited to feel the burning sensation of transforming into the creatures she now despised greatly. The cut prickled, but felt like a normal wound. The baby was starving and wouldn't stop crying. "Fine, just this once as long as y'don't kill me," Moira warned the newborn shaking a finger at it. The baby stopped, somehow understanding her. She lifted the baby back to her shoulder as she felt him slowly place his mouth on the cut. The baby was gentle as it slowly sucked at her shoulder. It didn't want to hurt her, which amazed Moira. When it was full, he pulled away from her with blood on his lips as he smiled almost thanking her. The cut healed quickly as the baby nestled in her arms. "Y'know, ya'ain't as bad as I thought y'was going t'be," she commented laughing at the infant as it started to fall asleep with droopy eyes. The baby looked a lot like her and her mother. It was her baby brother after all.
The vampires returned with more food as well as a poor human girl. Moira watched the girl as Henri dragged her by her throat, kicking and screaming. It woke the sleeping baby on her shoulder. "For t'love of all that is holy, I just got'm to fall 'sleep! Could'cha be any louder?" Moira screamed at Henri one hand on her hip, the other holding the baby. Both Lila and Avi started laughing at the small girl yelling at the older vampire like she was his mother. "You are pretty bold to be speaking to me like that in such a manner," Henri growled, holding a hand up hinting a threat to hit her. "I j'watched my Momma die after a month of takin' care o'er. I ha'been abducted for four months by filthy demons who may or may not kill me. And I am this close to taking a knife and slitting my own throat," she held up her fingers only a centimetre apart, "I j'don't fawking care about yer wee little feelings."
Henri backed up a couple steps. With every word she spoke, rubble from her previous melt down flew through the air as the vampires struggled to dodge it. The small girl in front of them, holding a new born baby, might just destroy the house if things did not calm down. Once her rant was finished, the cabin was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The silence was interrupted by the sounds of the girl begging to be let go. "We brought food for both you and the baby," Lila gestured to both the loaf of bread and the girl. "He doesn't need blood. I already fed'm. What I really need right now is help moving my mother so she can have a proper burial since I am too scrawy to do it meself," Moira ordered. When did she get so brave, ordering vampires around? Oddly they seemed to listen as they set they cleared the nearly demolished table and set the food down. Henri told the girl to sit and if she thought of running, he would break her legs. Avi and Lila help lift the mattress that the body was resting on. Moira found the Grimoire and flipped to the page where it had the funeral rites. She forced the tears to stay inside her eyes as she read the page.
Avi had dug a grave for her a couple minutes' walk from the cottage. It was in a clearing that was a perfect circle surrounded by thin trees with white bark. The grass was a rich vibrant green. Keeping her breathing even, she watched her mother as she was lowered down. Lila offered to hold the baby as Moira did the rites, but Moira only held him closer. Soon it was over. The grave was filled in and the only remaining familiar thing in her dark world was gone forever. In the dirt, Moira wrote Beatrice Grey, Be Strong.
It started to rain and everyone went inside. Moira was surprised how sad both Avi and Lila looked, like they were genuinely sorry she had died. Moira sat numb and tired from not sleeping and sorrow as she idling bounced the baby in her lap. He was the one thing holding her together somehow. "You said the baby already ate?" Lila asked. Moira nodded, showing the small scab on her shoulder. "And you don't feel the burning feeling from turning?" Avi asked curious. Moira shook her head, "He only took a little bit." All the vampires seemed curious about this child. He seemed human, except for his pale skin, blood-drinking, and alertness. The baby seemed more aware of what was going on, watching people moving, listening to voices. What also perplexed them were his green eyes. He wasn't just half vampire, he was half-witch. "May I hold him?" Lila held her hands out. "No," Moira barked, turning away from her. This continued through the night. There wasn't a mattress anymore, but Moira made a make-shift bed on the floor. She offered to make one for the girl, who only responded with shaking her head with terror filled eyes. "I'm not gonna hurt'cha. I'm in the same boat as'ya. Been'er for months," Moira tried to reassure her. "You are one of them! A daughter of demons. They told me you were their daughter!" she gasped out. Moira tried to explain that she was a witch, not a demon, but the girl only panicked more. That yes they might be treating her and calling her their daughter, but they were insane. She wasn't going to hurt her, only help. If she hadn't spoken up about feeding the boy, then she might be dead. The girl still slept on the opposite side of the room.
Moira woke to Lila trying to take the baby out of her arms. She only hugged the boy closer. "Jane, I just want to hold him. He looks just like Daniel, except the eyes," she cooed. The baby hugged Moira closer, hiding its small face in her chest as she slept on her side. The rosy sunlight of dawn woke her each morning. She still had not figured out a name for the baby yet. She got up to eat a small breakfast, before turning to the Grimiore. She needed to keep practicing magic. Avi watched her, saying that he would let her live if she committed to learning magic and also worked to find a cure. Plus whenever they tried to take the baby out of her arms, it would start crying and would not stop until Moira was holding him again. Occasionally she would set him down on the table, as she read through spell books. He was now a week old and looked about six months old. The rapid growth was a shocking surprise. He could sit up on his own and often spent his days watching Moira study. The human girl stayed, but remained frightened of her, especially when Moira practiced magic. Later she learned the girl's name was Maude. The girl would serve as a source of food for the baby. There had been too many times when Moira fed the baby where she felt light headed and almost collapsed. Avi didn't want anything to distract her from practicing magic.
Life without her mother was frightening. Now without her present, Lila seemed to be more and more out of touch with reality. Whenever they both left her sight for a little while, either to visit their mother's grave or to explore the woods with their new found freedom, she would run up to them when they returned. "Where's Alec?" she would ask nervous, "We need to find him. The townspeople are talking they want to hurt us." Her ruby eyes would flick around nervously. "I don't know," Moira would answer confused. "We need to find Alexander," she would order her panic growing. "He's not here," Moira would snap back. Occasionally Lila would death grip her arms leaving bruises and stare at her with a ripe look of fear, chilling every drop of blood in her. Shaking her so hard her neck would hurt for days. "Where is Alec?" she would cry over and over. "I don't know. I don't know," Moira would beg, tears streaming down her face. Eventually Avi would realize his mate's hysteria and he would pry her off the small bewildered girl. "It's okay. I'll go find him," he would reassure her, calming her down. They never would find him. Her son was dead.
A month went by without naming the baby. They just referred to it as "The Boy". The Boy kept Moira's company, since Maude often hid from her. He soon started speaking by copying her sounds. He reminded her of a parrot. "I ha'to study," she would tell him as she sat him down. "-dy," he would copy. "It's dinner time," she would say as she fed him small pieces of bread. "Time," he would smile. He seemed to eat anything she fed him, both human food and blood. "Want to go outside?" she offered, needing to get out of the stuffy cabin. "Outside, outside!" he would cheer. Every day she would walk to the clearing in the woods with the Boy in her arms until he seemed old enough to walk. He now looked about a year old and she often felt his small hand grasp hers, trying to stand and walk with her. Once he was old enough to walk, he followed her everywhere like a baby duck. "Careful, I think the boy thinks you're his mother," Henri March teased. Henri ignored the Boy not wanting anything to do with it and would just look at the thing with disgust. And so the Boy wanted nothing to do with him. He didn't even fully understand that Mr. March was his father. The Boy didn't even understand the situation he was born into. He didn't understand that Moira was being held captive. That his mother died giving birth to him. That they were in danger. He just felt safe and happy by Moira's side.
Maude warmed up to Moira. "So you really aren't going to hurt me?" she asked. "Do I look like I'm gonna hurt'cha?" Moira laughed. The girl was older than her, probably sixteen or so. She had messy brown hair and eyes of a grazing cow. She towered over Moira in height and had newly developed curves that made her rather appealing. But she had lost weight from being the Boy's blood sack and the stress of being held captive. Maude laughed. The blonde girl in front of her was quite small and thin. She just seemed scary when she was practicing witchcraft and probably other satanic things. "They really aren't your parents?" she asked. Moira shook her head, explaining the story of their real children, her real mother, how she came to be here, and her little brother. Maude explained how she was a servant girl for the local Thane, how she had been dragged from the estate by these strangers in the middle of the night. "You know where we are?" Moira gasped. "Yeah, the northern reaches of Scotland. "'Bout half a day's ride until the sea. Even less to the closest town. An hour walk I reckon," Maude shrugged, "Where do you think the leeches have been sneaking off to every night or so?"
The boy soon looked like a toddler, waddling around and soon running. He had lots of energy and was always bouncing around. He started constructing fuller sentences. "You read to me?" he would ask Moira each night. Avi had brought her a collection of fairy tales and fables. She soon realized that the more she cooperated, the nicer her captors were. Experimenting, she started calling Lila "Mother" and Avi "Father". She was rewarded with a new dress and fresh fruit, a luxury. The more she treated them like her parents and accepted her phantom name of "Jane", the easier her life was. But it soon became habit and eventually reality. She found herself thinking about how her father had left them alone in the woods, not letting them explain. How Avi, no matter how much he promised punishment, only showed her kindness reading to her, teaching her, and bringing her gifts. Things her real father never did. Lila would braid her hair the same way her mother use to, humming and singing to her. Even the boy would sometimes call her "Jane". "No my name is Moira. Moira", she would repeat. He would look between her and the happy vampire couple confused before returning to singing to himself or climbing trees or watching Moira study.
Avi's vision never returned and all he saw was darkness. He spent his days trying to readjust to living without his eyes. Often Lila or Moira had to help lead him around. Moira felt guilty since it was her idea, but she would remind herself that her mother was dead because of them. He deserved it. But then again it was really Henri who she wished vengeance on. He began watching her with the same hungry eyes he use to stare at her mother with. "Like an unblemished lamb," he would sigh as he licked his lips like a lazy house cat. She was careful to never be alone with him. More importantly, she made sure the boy was not alone with him. One time Moira fell deeply asleep after spending hours practicing magic, she was woken up by the sound of her brother whimpering and begging Henri to stop doing something. Opening her eyes, she watched as Henri held the boy close to the fire. "Stop, those are mine," the boy begged. Henri was burning the Boy's toy soldiers one by one. They were a gift from Avi. "I'm your real father. Not him. I decide what you can and cannot play with. You are mine, you little shit," Henri held the boy, crushing him, forcing him to watch as he burned the wooden figures. Moira jumped up, "That's enough." She ran to the fire and salvaged as many figures as she could. The boy held out his arms wanting Moira to take him away from this mean man who was hurting him. The vampires was grasping him so hard it was leaving dark bruises and crushing his lungs. Teasingly, he let him go but quickly held his wrist. The boy tugged at it. "Just let him go already. Or I'll tell Avi," Moira threatened. Henri laughed at her, "Avi can't undo this." The vampire crushed the boy's wrist, breaking it. He screamed in shock when he felt the bones crunch. Tears free flowed down his face. Satisfied, Henri let him go. The boy ran into Moira's arms. She tried to calm him down, cradling the broken wrist. Flipping through the Grimiore, she found a charm for healing bones. "Hold still. It will be over soon," she cooed as she began the spell. The boy screeched as the bones reset themselves, healing instantly. There was a side note for a herb to take to ease the pain, which she found amongst the supplies Lila and Avi had brought her. Using another spell, she tried her best to fix her little brother's toys. She was only able to save two. After that night, she slept with one eye open.
Soon Moira's twelfth birthday rolled around and passed unnoticed. It was re-celebrated September 23, which had been Jane Marie and Alexander's birthday. She played along, smiling. Her new mother had gotten her a set of trousers. This confused her. Women were not allowed to wear trousers. It was immodest and inappropriate to show the shape of a woman's legs. Lila argued they were more practical and easier to move in. This proved true the next time she tried climbing trees with her little brother. Climbing was the one thing both seemed very skilled at. The boy's balance was extraordinary as he would perch himself on one of the branches, watching her smiling this fox-like mischievous smile. Other times he would dart in and out of the bushes, exploring the world around him. "Where are you, little fox?" Moira would call, wanting to keep him in her sight. It was a nice distraction from the situation she was in. The boy had slowly began to understand what was happening. He would now hide himself from Mr. March, often hugging Moira's legs or hiding in the bushes.
Every day they would walk to the clearing where their mother was buried. Avi soon started trusting them to walk alone, since they had been so "well behaved". It was the only thing keeping Moira sane and in touch with reality. Here she was Moira Grey. Perched on top of a tree branch, he would flash his wicked grin.
Moira would sigh shaking her head, "We're all mad here."
"And it's okay," her little fox would respond. Their new mantra since Be Strong had been over used and proven ineffective. Strength didn't save them, but rather accepting the madness in their life.
Moira grew stronger and stronger each day. Her abilities had soared and was soon able to do even the most complicated of spells. Avi once brought her a dead bird and she was able to bring it back to life. She could make whatever weather she wished. She could even make it rain frogs and locusts. Moira learned how to magically change her appearance, making her hair purple, her eyes brown, a few years older, a couple inches taller, and skin dark as an Arabian princess. Moira could have easily became a whole new person and end this 'Jane' madness. But she always reverted back to herself in fear of completely losing 'Moira'. Soon she was writing and creating her own spells, something most witches did not master until they were fully grown. This pleased Avi the most. Maybe she could create a cure? She wrote a spell for turning animals into other creatures. She had turned a mouse into a furious bear only to finally turn it into a deer. She also began to have more visions. Most included her and the boy. One was them trapped at sea on a ship caught in a storm. Another was her surrounded by her mother's family in Ireland. One was of Maude dying, which later came true. Henri March killed her in front of his son, saying that, "He was a vampire and should start acting like it. Not some stupid witch." Moira was sad to lose her friend, but she had paved over her own heart the day her mother died. Death had no power over her. Maybe she was wicked? Maybe she had more in common with these vampires than the humans she thought she belonged with? But the dreams that scared her were visions of Henri hurting her and the boy as Avi stood by. She knew she and the boy would need to leave soon. They couldn't stay here forever.
She soon began devising a way for them to escape. They couldn't run to the next town, for that was the first place they would look. She did convince Lila to walk with them to town as a day trip. The boy now looked five years old and soon Avi would start to teach him his numbers and letters. Her little fox grasped her hand tightly as they walked to the market and explored the streets. She learned the name of the town and tried her best to memorize a map of where they were located. They couldn't escape back to Loxwood. That would be the first place they would look. She still had family in Ireland and hopefully they would protect them. She had a general idea how to get there. Once they returned home, she had an idea of what they needed to do.
The air had soon become warm. She and her brother spent some nights sleeping on a quilt under the stars. Moira remembered the townspeople murmuring and old wives tale that if you slept under a full moon, it would drive you insane. A lunatic. Well, we are all mad here, Moira laughed as she watched Lila help her Fox catch fireflies in the tall grass. Avi proved to still be a skilled musician through his blindness as he played a happy tune on an old violin. Occasionally he would put it down and kiss his wife's hand before spinning her under the infinite stars. They would dance, humming old childhood songs, laughing and smiling. They never seemed to quarrel, as opposed to how her parents did. For a moment everything would be perfect. It would be her own wonderland.
Hush little angel, hear the ravens crow
Say goodbye to childhood and dreams you've known
If it should whisper as a haunted ghost
Leave your soul open and a welcome host
Hush little angel, the fires burn bright
Flames crawl across your skin and kiss goodnight
The darkness was safer and cradled you
Hid you from demons and thorny crowns too
Hush little angel, it is over now
The blood has dried and ash cooled
The stake stands empty
Hush little angel, hear the rooster crow
This was the song Lila sang to her children every night, warning them. She couldn't lose them. If the priest found out what they were, he would kill them. She had to warn them of the danger before it was too late.
Lila watched and sang to herself as her daughter sketched in the dirt a strange symbol. Wincing, the girl sliced her palm open, using her blood to retrace the design. She was so proud of Jane for how strong she was and smart. She watched as Jane took an apple and threw it on the ground, where the circle-like symbol was. It disappeared on contact with the ground. Moira walked inside the house and found the apple on the table. Smiling, she took a bite. Lila clapped amazed. "Jane, that was amazing," she hugged her daughter tight. "Thank you, Mother," Jane gushed back. Jane stopped, letting her go. Something made her stop. Outside a rock was floating in the air. She then remembered she had left the Boy outside alone. "Look," he laughed. As he raised his hand, rock floated higher as he beamed, "I'm just like Moira." The boy had witch powers.
He spent his days making his toy soldiers move with his mind. Sometimes he would grab dried leaves off the forest floor and they would start glowing red hot before bursting in to flames and ash. It was a game to him. Henri was only disgusted. Her little fox would be running through the under growth barefoot, refusing to ever wear shoes. One day he had caught a bunny. Out of curiosity, he tried sinking his sharp teeth in its neck, tasting the rabbit's blood. It didn't taste as good as human blood, but it was tolerable. Moira praised him greatly, hoping to encourage him to hunt animals instead of humans. Soon he was catching larger game such as badgers and smaller deer. This only angered Henri more at his son's weakness. "What did I tell you about being an actual vampire, not a witch? You are nothing but a sick freak, just like the little twat," he sneered as he pushed his son on the ground. Moira would often step in, shielding her little brother. Her selflessness was met with violence, sometimes from being strangled, other times thrown against the wall and kicked. Soon he copied his sister's habit of taking blows for the other. "I don't care if he's my daddy. I won't let him hurt you," his small voice would whisper to her as they curled up to fall asleep. Moira smiled at her brother's bravery. It wasn't his fault he was in this mess.
Time seemed to blend together. Moira had ceased to age and was frozen with her family due to her constant use of magic. With her little fox's unusual growth, she could have very well been here for years. Trapped in this land of Wonder. Celebrating unbirthdays, wearing Avi's oddly colorful top hat as he spun her in many, many dizzy circles, her brother's mischievous grin as he hung hidden in tree branches, how occasionally she would slip and call Henri 'March Hare' for whatever reason, laughing and singing while drinking from empty teacups with a merry air, Lila floating like a white queen. And above all the madness. It was her refuge. She was no longer the disappointment of her mother, but rather the much-loved daughter of Avi and Lila. She very much liked muchness. Avi had brought her a new dress, robins blue with a white lace apron and stockings. "You bought the wrong colour," his mate complained. "My Jane is not suited to wear blue. It is too sad and quiet of a colour. A more passionate red suits her." Avi then reminded her that he was blind and would have bought a red dress had been able to see the color red. Or anything but the dark Mist that seemed to cloud him. This was all dissipated when he presented her with a rich, red cloak. The red hood dangerously contrasted against her truly wicked eyes.
Over endless pots of empty tea he would tell her tales of his travels as a nomad before he and his mate began searching for a cure. He had dined with and on kings, seen the most wondrous snow capped mountains, braved the scorching rays of the most heartless deserts, climbed the tallest towers and even traveled to the Americas. The world was an endless fairytale. "Someday, you too will see the world. Go on many adventures," he would sigh, "Perhaps you will find trials and sorrows, but I do hope one day you find peace and happiness." She would dream of traveling far, far away from Henri March in a ship that flew through the air like a bird. Avi at the helm, her Fox hanging from the crows nests, Lila guiding them as she charted the stars, and even herself arms out stretched over the bow of the great ship, flying free. These were happy dreams. Come away with me, his voice would eerily echo in her dreams.
Avi and Lila left one night, saying they needed to hunt. They had already exhausted the hunting grounds in the nearby villages and towns. They couldn't have people noticing so many disappearances. "Promise not to hurt them," Avi warned. "I won't, sir," Henri March smiled coldly. "Be a good girl, Jane," Lila kissed her forehead. "I will, Momma," Moira hugged her back. They were the worst people in the world to have for kidnappers. Just a little crazy and confused and slightly obsessive. But deep down both were kind and good people.
Henri had returned from hunting as they left, this time he held a woman who looked like a prostitute with revealing clothing and overly dramatic make up. "I want you to kill her, feed from her," Henri told the Boy. The boy just shook his head. He didn't want to hurt the human. Moira told him hurting people was wrong, especially if they were innocent. "Drink," Henri grabbed the boy by the scruff of the neck and pressed his mouth to where her jugular was. The boy fought him, kicking and squirming. "No," the boy argued. He didn't want to do it. Without thinking, he made the sleeve of his father's shirt catch on fire with his mind. Just like a piece of paper. Frantically, he tried to put the fire out as the flames ate away at his frozen flesh. His entire left hand and part of his forearm was gone when we was finally able to put out the fire. "How dare you!" he bellowed grabbing the boy by the throat, strangling him. Livid, he threw the Boy against the wall so hard his body broke through it. Moira ran outside to find the Boy in a bloody heap, unconscious. The monster was not done with them yet. But Moira had all that they needed.
She used her brother's blood that was dripping from his forehead to redraw the design in the dirt. She tore off her mother's necklace and focused on it as she began to chant the spell she had just written. She cradled her bleeding brother in her skirt. She hoped the spell would work. Moira had never used it before on living creatures before, let alone two. It was now or never. Hugging her brother, she jumped into the circle feeling it ripple around her as if breaking the surface of a still pond as Henri's fingers barely brushed her skin as they fell down, down, down the rabbit hole.
Falling. They were surrounded in darkness endlessly for what seemed like hours. Falling. Her little fox still did not wake up. Falling. Her dress was now stained in blood. Finally, she felt her shoulder and ribs crunch as they crashed on to a grass field. She saw lights flicker inside an old house. "Somebody get help," a man called as Moira's mind slipped into the soft darkness.