The hazel tree in the yard was nothing more than a silhouette in the dense fog that shrouded the countryside surrounding Cambridge. Only a few beams of sunlight filtered through. The fog would lift in time, but for now, Jules would take in the feeling of being concealed from the world by a dense but airy blanket while heading into the stables for daily chores. He checked over each horse before letting them out into the pasture, then took care of changing out their feed. He expected to be alone for a little while, but as he was cutting open a new bag of oats to measure out the horses' food, he heard someone entering the stable. He expected his father, Dietrich, or Antheia, but instead, it was his mother.

"You're up early," she said.

"No earlier than usual," Jules replied. "Are you going to get angry at me over breakfast again?"

"No." Vanora looked around the stable for a moment, looking unsure of what to say next. She didn't have the same interest in horses that Jules and his father did, so the last day or so had probably been the most time she ever spent in that building. "Are you waiting for Antheia?"

"She and Troy are going to be here eventually, but we didn't make any plans for this morning."

"Alright."

Jules kept waiting for his mother to say something more, but when she didn't, he said, "Antheia said last night that she appreciated the clothes you gave her, but she doesn't plan on dressing up like that ever again."

"I'm not sure that'll be possible. You never know when a formal event will pop up."

Jules snorted. "Yeah, right, because she'll be invited."

"Well, if, for instance, you two end up getting married, you'll need a suit and she'll need a dress—"

"We'll have a wedding like Troy's. Not like we'll be inviting a bunch of strange relatives we don't know anyway."

Vanora sighed. "A wedding is supposed to be a nice occasion."

"Exactly. Stuffing us in uncomfortable clothing doesn't make it 'nice.' So it looks pretty in pictures. That's all it is. What matters more, Mum? Pretty pictures or happy memories?"

"You can have both."

"We'll see." This wasn't something Jules wanted to be discussing. He poured a cupful of oats into Nightrunner's feed bucket. "We had fun last night, though."

"That's good."

Jules again waited for Vanora to continue. Do we have nothing to talk about? She got upset over not spending time with me, only for us to have nothing to talk about? Wow. He glanced at his mother before resuming his work. He wondered if what he wanted to say was really the right thing, but if it would push the conversation forward, he would say it. "Dietrich said the incident with the gargoyle still bothered you."

"I talked about it last night with him. I don't think it's going to be like what your father has."

"I hope not."

Once more, the conversation couldn't continue. Is there something she's afraid of saying? Is there something I'm afraid of saying? Why should we be afraid of talking to each other? Jules made sure the oat bag was closed and hidden from the prying senses of mice or rats.

Vanora didn't do anything until Jules was finished, then walked up to him. "You're not little anymore, but you're still young, and at no point should I be thinking about the idea that I might not have you around anymore. But, it's been there, that thought, ever since Dietrich told us about his vision from fourteen years ago."

"We discussed this how many times? There was no dead raven. There's nothing to worry—"

"That doesn't mean I'm happy with the idea that you could be seriously hurt. Things could become complicated. You might be unable to walk, talk, do anything. I don't want that. I don't want our lives to be constantly going in and out of a hospital for one reason or another." Vanora squeezed Jules's arms as her face contorted and reddened. "Then what? I refuse to watch you suffer for the rest of my life!"

Jules had never seen or heard his mother cry more than he had in the last couple of weeks. Before the magpies, the last time he had seen her cry was when his father was sick in the hospital a few years ago. He had seen his father cry as well, several times over the years, for various reasons. More often than not, those reasons were related to his wartime memories. Anah wasn't able to cry like a person, but she expressed sadness in her voice and behavior. Jules grew up to see sadness and tears as completely normal, not something to be ashamed of or seen as weakness. He certainly didn't see his mother as weak, but he didn't like seeing her cry. He had seen it so many times at this point that he wasn't sure how to feel. One part of him was angry at the magpies. Another was concerned that he wouldn't be able to pull off defeating them, but now there was the worry that if Dietrich's vision came true, life wouldn't be the same afterward. People could survive falls, but now he was curious how likely it was that he would come away from such a thing without lifelong complications.

"Is that what this is all about?" Jules asked. "You're afraid of me becoming crippled?"

Vanora squeezed his arms tighter before nodding. "And don't you dare tell me that it would be worth it to stop the magpies. I can tell you right now that it won't be, not when this is long over and we're dealing with those consequences."

"I don't know what to say that could help, other than I doubt Dad and the others would let those consequences become permanent. I can't see Troy just lying down and giving up when there's a chance I could be fully healed."

Vanora sighed. "You are right. Troy would be the one convincing your father to go on a quest to find something that would save you."

"We don't even know what the outcome of this will be. You're not wrong for being scared. I am, too, but… I'm more focused on putting things back to the way they were before. I'm tired of watching everyone suffer. If something terrible happens to me, then we'll cross that bridge when we get to it, but knowing everyone in this family, they're not going to give up, even if things seem impossible."

Vanora nodded. "You have a lot of faith in your father and his friends, don't you?"

"Of course I do."

"Why am I even asking that? I should as well." Vanora's grip on her son's arms relaxed a little. Then she gently pulled him into a hug. "None of us wanted to see you go through a prophecy. Me especially, after watching how stressed your father was over Dietrich's." She became quiet again after letting him go, looking down at the hay-strewn ground before regaining eye contact with Jules. "You're always going to be my baby. I know, you're growing up, you have your first girlfriend, and you're already very independent. I won't insist on holding your hand, but I'm going to miss the days when I could physically hold your hand. I'm going to miss walking with you and your father in the park, with you in between us. You used to really enjoy the swings in the playground. You would beg and beg your father to push you as high as possible."

"Didn't I drop Anah once?"

"You did, but she landed in the sandbox. She was alright. Scared another child, though. Your father did his best to clear that up."

"Didn't she also try actually using a swing?"

"Yes. Yes, she did."

"And the merry-go-round?"

"I think she only did that because Troy was there and she wanted to see how fast she could make him go."

"I remember that now." Jules was smiling the first time that day, and it was nice to see his mother was smiling as well. It became easier to shift the conversation to happier things. Jules was afraid he would be embarrassed, talking about things from when he was little, but at no point did his mother linger too much on embarrassing events. Overall, it was nice to just talk to her again, and for a brief moment, things felt normal.

Eventually, Vanora left Jules alone to continue his work around the stable. A few minutes went by when Antheia showed up. She tapped Jules's shoulder, and opened her arms for a hug. "Hi."

"Hi." Jules hugged her. "Did you just get here?"

"No. I was waiting inside with Dad until your mom came back. I didn't think it'd be right to interrupt. Are things… getting better with you two?"

"Yeah. Our talk went better than I was afraid it would go."

"That's good."

Jules nodded a little, unsure if he wanted to tell Antheia what had his mother so anxious in the first place. "Dietrich's vision is still bothering her."

"I thought you said the fact that there's no dead raven means there's nothing to worry about."

"I did say that, but that doesn't mean I won't be hurt. Mom's worried about me being injured and potentially crippled. I want to think that she's overthinking it, but… I don't know."

"Not sure there's much anyone can do to make her less afraid. That's kind of what mothers do."

"I've never seen mine like this before."

"Because you've never been in this situation before, especially one where nobody has any way of knowing what's actually going to happen."

"Are you worried at all?"

"A little, but I'm not all that surprised your mom's jumping to the worst case scenario."

"Does Shauna ever do that?"

"No. She's usually more worried about Dad than me."

"That's not a surprise. At all."

"Yeah. Mom always says, 'Listen to your father, but think about what he's saying really hard before deciding if it's a good idea or not.'"

"My dad says something similar every time I visit Troy, but never when I visit Hitch or Tully or Dietrich."

"Do you need me to outline all the reasons why?" Antheia asked with a smile.

"No. I've known your dad longer than you have, remember?"

"Yes. Yes, you have." Antheia looked around the stable. "Is there anything that has to be done in here?"

"No, I just finished," Jules replied. "Did, uh, did you have fun last night?"

"For the most part, yeah. Being with you is always fun, but I think I'd rather go somewhere a little less fancy next time."

"There are a few places like that around here. I'm sorry last night wasn't as fun as it could have been."

"That's okay. It wasn't your fault. We can always find somewhere else."

"Maybe after this thing with the magpies is over, we can go somewhere to celebrate."

"That would be nice. I imagine your parents are going to want to spend time with you first, though."

"They probably will, but they also know that you and Troy will be going home afterward, so… we'll get to spend time together."

"I know it hasn't always been fun, but I'm glad that we've been able to spend as much time together as we have." Antheia's smile faded. "Dad was able to get me out of school by calling this a 'family emergency,' but I'm probably going to have to take extra classes so I can do those stupid end-of-year tests."

"You don't seem worried about that."

"I just don't care. We don't learn anything practical."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but in the States, your next level is… high school?"

"Yeah. That's four years, unless I can somehow graduate at seventeen, which I don't think will happen. Not smart enough for that."

"You're smart."

"Not smart enough. Don't see why I can't just quit. Tully dropped out when he was fifteen and he's one of the smartest people I know."

"That wasn't under good circumstances, though."

"Still. He hasn't suffered because he doesn't have a stupid diploma."

"That's true. He hasn't. Do you even know what you want to do after school?"

"I want to stay on the ranch."

"Are you sure that's what you'll want to do when you turn eighteen?"

"Yeah."

"I'll ask you again in five years."

"Are you saying you don't think I'll want to stay on the ranch when I'm eighteen?"

"No, but your interests might change between now and then. I have no idea what I want to do. I'm torn between joining the army or making a living working with horses. I could enlist and then work with horses after serving for a few years." Jules thought for a moment. "Maybe we could do that together. Work with horses, I mean."

"We'd have to pick where—here or in America. That means one of us has to leave home."

"True." Jules sighed. "There's plenty of time to think about it. Maybe it can become a reality someday."

"It'd be nice. Working together."

"Yeah." Jules wouldn't deny that as much as he loved visiting Troy in Wyoming, it seemed very lonely. Maybe his thoughts on that would change in the future, and he didn't want to rule out the possibility just yet. That was several years away, and he still had the damn magpies to worry about. For now, he would sit with Antheia in the stable, holding her hand and letting her rest her head on his shoulder.

Dietrich chose to sit on the hill overlooking the infamous creek for a few reasons. One, it was a genuinely calm and peaceful spot. Two, he wanted to get Troy to think and reflect. There was no better spot for it than that creek. The two had headed out to that spot shortly after dinner, and of course, Troy had to ask: "Are you tying me to a tree again?"

Dietrich sighed. "You know, maybe I should tie you to a tree so you stop asking."

"Are you?"

"No. Why do you insist on asking that every time I take you outside?"

"Because you did it once."

"That does not mean I am going to do it again. Sit down."

The sun was low in the sky, which had begun changing from blue to a pale orange. A few clouds were hanging around, but not enough to cause worry about rain. It was still pleasantly warm. Perfect conditions for doing nothing.

"Are you comfortable, Troy?" Dietrich asked.

"Comfortable in what way?" Troy replied.

"How you are sitting."

"Yeah. Why?"

"Are you ready to begin?"

"Begin what?"

"Relaxing."

Troy shrugged. "Sure. I'll say I'm ready."

This is not difficult. Dietrich resisted an urge to sigh. "Alright. Start breathing slowly and deeply, and just do that for a little while."

"This actually works for you?"

"You certainly test how well it works. Most of the time, yes. Now, do it."

"Okay. What is this supposed to do?"

"Troy?"

"What?"

"Please, shut up, and breathe."

Miraculously, Troy stopped talking, and made an attempt.

"Once you establish a pattern of calm, even breathing, look around you, and take in every sensation. Everything you hear, see, smell, feel—"

"What about taste?"

"No, and if you start eating the grass, I am getting up and leaving. Once again, please be quiet. Do you want to learn how to use your damn abilities or not?"

"Yeah."

"Then stop talking." Dietrich took a deep breath of his own to try and calm down. He waited until Troy was completely quiet and actually doing what he was told. "Alright. Now, what are you thinking about at this moment?"

"That this is silly."

"Why do you think this is silly?"

"Because we're not actually training. We're doing nothing productive."

"Ah, but we are doing something. We are doing nothing."

"That's… not something. Not something useful, I mean."

"In this case, it is useful. It is very useful. We are making you stop the running of your mind, so you can communicate more effectively with the pack of jackals that reside inside you."

"You could've just said that. That'd make more sense."

"No. First, you have to learn how to do nothing, and then you can learn how to communicate with the jackals."

"How do I learn how to do nothing?"

"By not thinking about anything of importance. By enjoying someplace quiet. Being content and grateful for what you have."

"Alright, I think I get the idea."

"Then do it. Not talking will certainly help."

There was silence for quite some time. Dietrich would occasionally glance over at Troy, noticing that his eyes were closed and he was actually taking deep, even breaths. After another minute or two passed, Dietrich turned to face Troy. "What comes to mind when you think of what a jackal is, Troy?"

"A smallish, dog-like critter with black and gray fur on its back," Troy replied.

"When you think of its habits in the wild, what comes to mind?"

"Well, it does hunt, but it also eats dead things and garbage. It's a scavenger. It's like a coyote where I live, kinda."

"What about its place in the world, compared to other animals it shares its home with? How do people view it?"

"It's… I guess you can say it's like a combination of the wolf and the fox, but it's got none of the nobleness of the wolf and none of the charm of the fox. Nobody really likes it. It's a pest that nobody wants around."

"Does that sound like you?" Dietrich felt like he knew the answer. Part of him didn't want to hear the answer, but he knew what he was going to say next that would hopefully help.

"Yeah. It sounds like me. That was… part of why I didn't want this. No one wants a filthy, scavenging reject of a creature around."

Dietrich expected Troy to continue. When he didn't, Dietrich said, "Is that how you see yourself? A filthy, scavenging reject?"

"Used to. Not anymore. I was referred to by all sorts of nasty things not long after my dad died, and especially after I ran off, then again after I got word that the farm was being sold. Yep, because it was my fault that Mom couldn't get off her bitter ass and hire someone to run the damn place. My fault. Who else could be blamed but me, because I didn't do what I was told, because I wanted one thing and she and my father wanted another, and she was convinced everyone in the entire world wanted me to go get educated, like that and that alone would make us wealthy." Troy stopped once he noticed he was becoming agitated.

Dietrich waited until Troy had calmed down again before speaking. "In nature, the scavenger is far from worthless. They have their place, otherwise they would not exist. Like you said, the jackal does hunt, but it is opportunistic, much like you. It will take what it can find, and it will fight for it. When it takes a mate, it stays with that mate for life. It also fiercely fights for the members of its pack, especially the young."

"I mean… you're right. I said my vows with Shauna and I'll keep them until the day I die. And, yeah, I'd beat the crap out of anyone trying to hurt Antheia or Jules or Hitch and Tully's kids or Gunther."

"It is also cunning, which I know you are. It does not hesitate to challenge bigger animals. Do you see where I am going with this?"

"I think so."

"Where some people see a filthy animal that eats carrion and causes problems, others see a cunning hunter, dedicated to its pack and kin. I know I do. I started looking at animals differently when I became aware of the prophecy. The bear, a fierce predator but also a protector that one would be wise not to cross. The deer, appearing meek and harmless but can actually inflict serious damage when provoked. The snake, fast and deadly but incredibly intelligent and calm when treated with respect rather than fear. The jackal, an opportunistic scavenger but also a cunning hunter and dedicated packmate."

Troy was quiet for a moment. "So, you're saying… I need to look at the positive traits rather than the negative."

"Yes."

"Okay. I'll try."

Dietrich let him think, sitting back and looking out at the creek as it reflected the setting sun. Several long minutes had passed when he felt something warm suddenly appear next to him, and heard the sound of an animal breathing and sniffing him. He turned and saw the spectral form of a jackal standing by him. "There you go," Dietrich said. "I think you are getting the hang of it."

The jackal moved closer to Dietrich, and put its paws on him before licking his face.

"Okay, okay… Troy, tell it to stop," Dietrich muttered.

"Why? I told it to do that," Troy said with a smirk.

"Of course you did." Dietrich endured the affection for another two seconds before gently trying to push the jackal away. "You know, I do not despise dogs the way Moffitt does, but this is one reason I was glad that little dog left my camp. I really do not like this kind of affection. It is… unsanitary."

"It's not real, so it's not like it's going to give you any diseases." Troy looked like a lightbulb went off in his head. "Speaking of Moffitt—" He stood, and jogged back to the house, the jackal in tow.

Dietrich stood as soon as he figured out what Troy was doing. "I do not think that is a good idea! Troy! Get back here, you fool!"

He made it to the house just in time to see a pair of jackals tackling Moffitt while he was minding his own business in the pasture. The jackals had startled off Frostcloud, leaving her rider to be smothered in soft bodies and kisses only a dog-like animal could give.

"Get these foul beasts off me!" Moffitt cried.

Dietrich jogged up next to Troy. "This is not funny!"

Movement and a black and gray pattern suddenly appeared. Two common adders rushed from the bushes by the house, slithering under the fence to Moffitt's aid. The jackals immediately stepped back as soon as the snakes got closer, and looked back at Troy for instruction.

"Easy, Moffitt," Troy said. "They're not gonna hurt you."

Moffitt stood, motioning for the adders to stand down before brushing himself off. "What in the bloody hell possessed you to think that was funny?!"

"Not sure. The same reasons I think your tea-tantrums are funny?"

"Oh, so my misery and misfortune gives you joy? Wonderful!"

"Welcome to my world," Dietrich muttered.

Moffitt glared at him. "You couldn't stop Troy?!"

"I think I have reached my limit of dealing with Troy today."

Troy roughly tousled Dietrich's hair. "You did help me today, so you've earned a break from me. Thanks."

"There's… no bloody way you managed to help him gain control of the jackals," Moffitt said, walking over to the fence. "No way."

"You saw the jackals and how quickly they responded to him," Dietrich said.

"I did. And felt them on me." Moffitt shuddered. "And they licked me! Ugh, there is no more disgusting feeling than a dog's tongue on your skin!"

"Don't cat tongues feel like sandpaper?" Troy asked.

"They do, but I'll take sandpaper over this!"

"You would rather roll around in wet sand than be licked by a dog, wouldn't you?"

"As a matter of fact, yes! And I have! I'd much rather clean sand out of crevices I didn't even know I had for the next several days than smell like dog-breath!"

Dietrich looked at Troy. "He is going to complain about this for the rest of the night now. Are you proud of yourself?"

Troy grinned. "Very."

"Of course you are. What else would you feel but pride at having utterly disgusted a man?"

"Well, I've got some bad news for you, Dietrich."

"What?"

"This is technically your fault, for helping change my attitude about this."

"Yes, but it is your job to use your ability responsibly, for whoever gave you this power is likely also able to take it away."

"I'll behave."

"Can you?"

"Yes."

"I will believe that when I see it."

They were interrupted by Moffitt letting out a frustrated growl. "You scared off my horse, Troy! Shame on you! I hope Anah torches your birthday cake next year!"

Dietrich sighed. "See, now he is going to storm around and complain like a grumpy old man. Vanora might banish him to the couch tonight if he keeps this up. Look at what you have done, Troy, look."

"Oh, no, he's been licked by a ghost-jackal-thing that doesn't actually exist and carry disease!" Troy sighed and rolled his eyes. "Moffitt, come on. It's not that bad. You're being a goofball."

"How about, you are both being idiots and we will leave it at that," Dietrich said.

"I'm not being an idiot or a goofball!" Moffitt said. "I feel disgusting! I'm getting a shower. I ought to make you two catch Frostcloud like you had to do with Snowstripe."

"I think once was enough with chasing horses with Troy."

"Fine. Jules can catch Frostcloud and put her in her stall for the night."

Dietrich watched Moffitt stomp off to the house, then glared at Troy. "Still proud of yourself?"

Troy nodded. "Yep. And I'll do it again when he's not expecting it."

The sound of crickets poured in through the open windows that night, after everyone had gone back to their hotel rooms and left Moffitt and his family with some peace and quiet. The crickets were soon tuned out by the sound of the small television in Moffitt and Vanora's bedroom. Vanora had control of the television, while Moffitt was stroking Anah on his lap. The cobra was in a very loose coil, lying limp and allowing Moffitt to do what he wanted. He was gentle, being mindful of her injuries, but he could tell that she was greatly enjoying her massage.

He noticed Vanora watching in the corner of his eye. "Someone looks very happy," she said.

"Oh, I'd say she's very happy," Moffitt replied, smirking. "Isn't that right, Anah?"

Anah's only response was the gradual darkening of her eyes, the closest to "closing" them she would ever get. That was typically a sign of contentment, or that she was ready for bed.

Vanora ran the nail of her index finger down the back of her husband's neck. "Perhaps you could do the same for me some night. I've spent more time than I usually do in the garden the last couple of days, and my back is a bit sore."

"I'd love to, darling." Moffitt's grin widened. "Then again, as long as Troy's here, you shouldn't have to worry about the weeding."

Vanora sighed. "Well, thanks for killing the mood by making me think of Troy eating the bloody dandelions."

"You're welcome."

"Jack, that wasn't meant to be… oh, never mind."

Moffitt leaned over to kiss Vanora's cheek. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

He nuzzled her forehead, and lingered there for a moment, enjoying the feeling of simply being with her. "It's nice seeing you in a better mood, darling."

"I do feel better, having talked to Jules. I just hope I didn't make him afraid with… what I told him."

"I don't think so, and I'll be able to talk to him when we're on our way to the island in a few days."

"You're sure you don't want anyone else with you, love?"

"Positive. Millington made a good point with accompanying us. He's got the knowledge and expertise in case something happens to Anah. Beyond him, Jules, and Anah, that is it. I don't want anyone else in danger, especially you."

"I just hope you come back soon."

"We'll do our best. Jules will be well-guarded, and I won't let him out of my sight. I promise."

"I want you to be careful, too."

"I will." Moffitt gave his wife another kiss. "You ought to be careful as well. Once the ravens leave, there's no telling what the magpies will do. I don't think either of us want a repeat of the gargoyle."

"No. I certainly don't."

"Perhaps Dietrich could accompany you to work, if you want."

"That would be nice, but why him specifically?"

"Because he can sit still for hours at a time, and I think he would find your work interesting."

"Good point. He can be my assistant for the day."

"He might enjoy that."

Vanora nodded. "Alright. Dietrich can join me at work. I highly doubt Evelina will mind. He's quiet, organized, and won't destroy anything."

"No. I shudder to think what Troy would do to your office."

"I don't think Troy would be that bad, but let's not take the risk, especially since he's learning his new jackal powers and having a bit too much fun with them now."

"Indeed." Moffitt grimaced at the memory of the spirit jackals pinning him to the dirt to show him affection in a barbaric manner. When the television and lights were turned off, Moffitt placed Anah on his nightstand and made sure she was covered with his scarf. He snuggled up to Vanora, planting a kiss on her lips and taking in her sweet scent. "Good night, darling. Sleep well."

"You, too, love." Vanora turned to nestle against Moffitt's chest. She was quiet for a moment, then whispered, "I forgot to tell you earlier… thank you."

"For what?"

"For not giving up on me even though I was being a bit of a pain."

"You don't have to thank me for that. I'll never give up on you. You never gave up on me, no matter how rough things can be with my nightmares and whatnot. Giving up never crossed my mind. I love you too much for that." Moffitt hugged Vanora tightly, hoping he would never have to see her as upset as she had been the last couple of days ever again.