<center>Freya vs Darkness
Darkness has been a wildcard lately, to put it lightly. He'll be facing a fellow New Hellfire Club member at Endgame, and tonight he faces another, the mysterious and deadly Freya! Will she be able to talk (or beat) some sense into her supposed ally, or will the Shadow Slayer's mean streak continue right on through Freya??</center>

Among the old Norse, it was the custom for certain warriors to dress in the skins of the beasts they had slain, and thus to give themselves an air of ferocity, calculated to strike terror into the hearts of their foes.

Such dresses are mentioned in some Sagas, without there being any supernatural qualities attached to them. For instance, in the Njála there is mention of a man i geithedni, in goatskin dress. Much in the same way do we hear of Harold Harfagr having in his company a band of berserkir, who were all dressed in wolf-skins, ulfhednir, and this expression, wolf-skin coated, is met with as a man's name. Thus in the Holmverja Saga, there is mention of a Björn, "son of Ulfhedin, wolfskin coat, son of Ulfhamr, wolf-shaped, son of Ulf, wolf, son of Ulfhamr, wolf-shaped, who could change forms."

But the most conclusive passage is in the Vatnsdæla Saga, and is as follows: "Those berserkir who were called ulfhednir, had got wolf-skins over their mail coats" (c. xvi.) In like manner the word berserkr, used of a man possessed of superhuman powers, and subject to accesses of diabolical fury...

- The Book of Were-Wolves, Sabine Baring-Gould (1865)

"What's with the belt?"

Darkness dropped the title down onto the bench in the locker room. Its cracked, golden surface was heavily damaged, but the strap looked entirely new.

"It was Dante's. He wore it this time last year when he was challenging me for the World Championship."

"Oh okay. So you're just getting inside his head?" Revenant's eyes were still fixed on the red pentagram design on the so-called Lucifer's Championship.

"Something like that."

"What makes you Lucifer's Champion?"

Darkness pulled on his coat as he packed his bag. He hefted the title belt. "I'm the Antichrist. I'm his creature - that's what he told me anyway."

"But didn't he kill your wife?"

Darkness shot the small girl a withering look. "Didn't we go through all this?"

"I guess," she shrugged.

"Right."

Having now gathered his few possessions, Darkness made for the door of the locker room.

"Where are we going?" Revenant asked.

"Back to the hotel and then we're catching a plane to wherever the next show is."

"Okay. And what will we do once we're...wherever that is...?"

Darkness looked at her again as his hand paused on the door handle. "You're asking a lot of questions," he observed.

"Yeah, well, you never tell me anything. I want to know where my life is going here."

"We'll go to Boise, and prepare for whatever match I have. Just a normal couple of weeks."

Revenant rolled her eyes. "Yeah right. What are we really doing?"

"I'm serious," Darkness replied impassively. "I have nothing to do except prepare to fight whoever I'm booked against, and then win the titles from Dante at Endgame."

"So the Lucifer's Champion thing really is just a mindfuck then?"

Darkness opened his mouth to say something but then stopped himself. "You shouldn't swear like that," he told Revenant instead.

"What?"

He shook his head. "Never mind. What are you getting at?"

"That belt seems a pretty fancy thing to be carrying around if all it's for is messing with Dante. Doesn't being ‘Lucifer's Champion' involve any duties?"

"I don't know...Dante just used it to set himself up in opposition to me. You see, back then we didn't realise..."

Revenant waved a hand. "I know the story. It was boring the first time; I don't need to hear it again."

"You're talking about my life..."

"Sorry. Anyway, you're not in opposition to Dante, are you? I mean, you're not his enemy."

"Not exactly, no."

"So what does it mean to be Lucifer's Champion this time?"

"Well, it means..."

Darkness paused. He ran a hand over his beard, considering the thought process that had led to him finding the pieces of this belt again and having it repaired. It had seemed the right thing to do - Lucifer himself had told him he was his creature, and after everything he'd been through, he felt like he'd made his peace with the First of the Fallen. So what did this role really mean?

"...But how long can this charade continue, Antichrist? How long can you and my son fool around on television, playing at being superstars before your true vocations come calling?"

"And what vocations would those be?"

Lucifer stepped towards Darkness. His eyes flashed and, for just a heartbeat, he wore the brazen armour again. "You are a warlord, Darkness! You were born to lead armies, not pander to rednecks!"

That's what Lucifer had told him when he'd last seen him in his hotel room before Aperiophobia. He'd told him then that he had a better plan than becoming a general for the devil, by which he had meant finding the Promethean Ring, a quest that seemed to have fallen by the wayside since Selenia had been sent away by Dante.

Darkness looked down at the Lucifer's Championship belt in his hands and saw his distorted reflection in its broken gold surface, framed by the lines of red pentagram.

"Havoc can wait," Darkness finally said, looking up at Revenant with a determined expression on his worn face.

"Good. I hate wrestling. Where are we going?"

Darkness considered the question. He'd already led an army before Endgame last year, attacking the wargs with the Legio Incubi at his side and he'd led those same demons in Dis to free Dante and Hammer months later. The armies of Hades were his to command.

"My warriors are in Hell," he explained.

"You want to go to Hell?"

Darkness considered the question. If he were in Hell...

Pain.

"Are you alright?" Revenant looked concerned.

Darkness realised he was supporting himself on the doorframe. He moved a hand to rub his head that was suddenly swimming, but recoiled when the prosthetic touched his flesh. There were black dots in front of his eyes.

"I'm fine. Just...just a headache or something..."

"Okay."

He couldn't remember what he'd been thinking about before; his mind seemed to shy away from it, so he thought about something else.

"There are creatures all across the world who must be brought into the fold," he mused, "the New Hellfire Club should have been the nucleus of that."

"How so?"

"Well, Dante is half-demon, then there's Selenia and now you. And of course Freya..."

Darkness paused. He remembered a conversation he'd had with the young woman a few weeks before. "Of course," he continued, "I know exactly where we'll go."

Revenant brightened. "Where?"

Darkness opened the door and strode out. "I'll explain on the way."

* * *

Freya was starting to feel better. Idly she kicked a shoe off as she curled up in the big leather chair. Immediately after the show everyone had been in an awful mood, and she'd jumped at the chance to get the hell away from the rest of the stable - such as it was these days - to MediTech's headquarters in Atlanta.

Atlanta was a pleasant enough city, but hardly Freya's idea of a nice vacation spot. On the other hand, she had the run of Dante's penthouse office complex that contained the sort of luxuries a twenty-four year old werewolf from rural England never expected to have access to.

"I like having rich friends," she'd admitted when she'd first walked into the suite.

The biggest advantage, as far as Freya was concerned, was the huge library Dante had. Most of the stuff was a little bit close to home for Freya's liking, but she'd found something that had made her smile.

"Aberystwyth Mon Amour" was a spoof detective novel, set in Aberystwyth. Freya didn't know much about that town, except that Darkness had lived there for a while. If the depiction of the place in the novel was accurate then she was starting to understand Darkness a bit better.

"What a crazy place," she murmured to herself, before placing the book down.

She padded across the plush suite and grabbed herself a coke from the fridge. She took a sip and then coughed as the bubbles went up her nose.

"Oh," she said to herself forlornly, "nothing ever goes right these days."

"Hey, am I interrupting?"

Freya looked up to see the broad-shouldered shape of Jay Ecks standing in the door way.

"Not really," she said with a smile. "What are you doing here, Jay?"

"I work here," he reminded her as he walked into the suite and perched on the edge of a leather couch, "and I heard you were in the building, so I thought I'd stop by."

"Aw, that's nice of you. I could use the company."

"Well I can't stop for long," Jay said, "I just wanted to say ‘hi'."

"Oh. That's alright."

Freya felt a twinge of disappointment, but she gave Jay a big smile anyway and sat back down on her oversized armchair. "You're very sweet."

Jay laughed. "So I'm told. What are you reading?"

"Oh," she looked at the cover, "just a silly book about a town in Wales."

"Whales?"

"No, Wales. The country. It's on the side of England."

"Oh right."

"Yeah. It's about the place Darkness used to live, funnily enough."

Jay slapped his forehead at the mention of Darkness's name. "That's what I meant to tell you about..."

"What?" Freya had a sudden sinking feeling in her stomach.

"Dante told me to let you know that Darkness has left the country."

"Huh?"

"Oh, and you and he have a match at Havoc."

"Great," Freya murmured. "Any idea where he went?"

"Home, apparently."

"Home?"

"Yeah, back to the UK."

Freya put her book down. "Did he quit? After Dante challenged him and he so eloquently accepted?"

"No idea. He flew to one of the airports in London though. Heathrow I think."

"Well that makes no sense. Darkness doesn't come from there. If he was going home, it wouldn't be to London."

"Well he must be going somewhere else then," Jay shrugged.

Freya frowned. Something wasn't right. "Did he not say anything to anyone about what he might be doing?"

"Well I wasn't there," Jay admitted, "I talked to the girl who handled it all, but she didn't know much either."

A terrible thought suddenly occurred to her. "He didn't say anything about...Oxford...did he?"

Jay brightened. "Hey, now you mention it the girl did say something about that."

"Oh shit."

Freya jumped out of her chair and immediately pulled her shoes on.

"Hey, what's up?" Jay had risen too, and looked alarmed by her sudden increase in activity.

"No time to explain. Just get me a plane too."

Jay walked over to her and tried to place a restraining hand on her shoulder, but she wriggled out of his grip. "Don't do anything crazy..." he told her as she rushed out of the room.

"I'm not the one you should worry about being crazy," Freya said as she turned to look at Jay, "Darkness is the one you should be concerned about. He's about to do something monumentally stupid."

With that she left the suite, leaving Jay alone. He watched he doors swing shut behind Freya for a moment and then sighed heavily. He leant down and picked the book up from where Freya had left it open at the page she was reading. He looked around for a moment before finding an old receipt on a table, which he carefully placed in the book to mark her place.

The forest loomed in all around Darkness, trees seeming to curve upwards above his head to blot out the starlight. He was alone...he didn't remember being alone...

Shadows flitted around him, darting around gnarled tree trunks and intertwining with leaves and thick vines that hung down across his path. The shadows moved fluidly, like something alive, something gestalt, and yet composed of thousands of individual wisps of darkness. They reached out to him, with a million grasping fingers.

He felt one touch his face, caress him with a cold, wet villus.

He threw himself back and then pulled, as if from nowhere, the Lucifer's Championship belt. The gold surface reflected light that wasn't there and the red pentagram was burning flame instead of paint.

The light shone out, scorching the shadow away, throwing it into retreat with a snarl that made no sound.

Darkness breathed easily in the comforting light of the belt, but then suddenly the shadow rushed in again, enveloped and choked him, adhered to his skin and covered his whole body. He felt it rushing into his mouth, a writhing wet thing that cut off his air and seared his lungs. He felt his stomach fill with it, he felt it suffuse every pore and violate every orifice. It became him, like bones become stone as they fossilise, but unimaginably quicker. The belt was consumed too, turned into a shadow-thing like he was and the pentagram shattered, reworking itself into the image of a snake eating its own tail, twisted into an infinity symbol.

He screamed, but no sound came out, for now he was a shadow too.

"Gah!"

Darkness say bolt upright in the rough palette he had been given. The fingers of his good hand grasped at the woollen blanket and he blinked at the pale morning light that suffused the room, filtering through the wooden blinds that, like everything else in the house, appeared to have been made by hand.

"Just a dream..." he whispered to himself. He avoiding looking at the Lucifer's Championship belt that was slung over a chair with his other possessions.

With a grunt, Darkness swung himself from the bed and pulled on his clothes, leaving the jacket and his weapons for now. The faded cross on his t-shirt reminded him of an earlier time in his life and, somehow, he was comforted. With some difficulty he put his leather gloves, always flinching whenever he had to touch the cold plastic of his prosthetic hand.

Finally, once he felt ready, he left the small room and walked down a short corridor until he came to a heavy wooden door. He pushed it aside with a grunt, realising that the house had been built for beings stronger even than he. He walked into a scene that made him blink in surprise.

There was a huge rustic kitchen, with stone walls and a wood-burning stove, attended by an immense figure who Darkness was certain was female, even though she looked like no woman he'd ever seen.

"Ah, you're the Shadow Slayer, are you?" She turned to him, gesturing at him with a spoon that dripped with what appeared to be thick porridge. Darkness looked her over. She was taller than him, and broad like her husband. Her face was halfway to being a wolf's too, but her features were softer and rounder. Her hair was sandy coloured, and fell in huge waves down her back and around her face. It was twined with flowers and other vegetation. Overall, she had an overwhelming aura of motherhood about her.

"Are you just going to stand there and stare? Anyone would think you'd never seen a werewolf before..."

Darkness blinked and composed himself. "I'm sorry. I just...I've never seen a werewolf woman...well..." he realised that was a complete lie.

She arched an eyebrow. "You mean you've never seen one like me. You've only seen Regin's little sister."

"I...yes..."

She made a clucking noise with her mouth as she turned back to her pot. "Well I'm Bevan. And these are the Little Ones."

As if on cue, a rolling ball of life appeared from behind her skirts, gradually resolving itself into a number of children of indeterminate age, brawling and gnashing until one of Bevan's feet pushed them apart. They all had the same green eyes and, to Darkness, looked completely interchangeable. To a tot, they were long-haired, dirty and boisterous. It was impossible to determine their gender. Even when separated, one would occasionally attack one of the others and they would descended into violence again, degenerating into a wild pack at the slightest provocation.

Darkness approached the gaggle with fascination. As he came close, they fell apart again and all stared up at him with huge eyes. For once, they didn't seem to want to fight.

"Hello..." he said.

They made no reply.

"Oh, don't bother talking to them," Bevan said, looming over him, "they're nothing but trouble." She looked down at them with a frown and they all cowered from her gaze, rushing behind her again to cling at her skirts. "Do you want breakfast?" she asked.

"No...I'm fine. Thank you. Where is...?"

"Regin's outside. Probably time you spoke with him, yes."

Darkness stepped out of the house through the huge oak front door. He paused to look at the building now he could see it in daylight. When they had arrived the previous evening, it had been nothing more than a big blank shadow. It was made of stone, with wooden window frames and doors, all of which were worked with intricate runes and twisting, organic-looking designs. It looked very old.

"So, let's talk, Slayer."

Darkness looked over to the yard, where the werewolf who had found them last night was sitting on a half-disintegrated wall. Darkness approached him. The forest they had travelled through loomed from every side, but the house was built in a clearing. Vegetables grew in places, he could see, and a number of chickens clucked their way across the yard, pecking at the floor.

"This is a farm," he observed.

"How else do you think we eat, Slayer?" Regin, the name the werewolf had given them before he'd given them their rooms, placed the tool he was working on - a ploughshare that seemed to be made of flint - to one side.

Darkness shrugged and folded his arms across his chest. "Thank you for putting us up."

"You're welcome. It seemed the best thing to do."

"I need to speak to your council."

"So you said last night," Regin nodded, "but such things are easier said than done."

"How so?"

"We'll talk about that in a moment. First you tell me how you know my sister."

Darkness had known immediately that Regin was Freya's brother. Their eyes were identical, for one thing, and, of course, he'd come here knowing that this was Freya's home. Fortune apparently smiled on him again.

"She and I are...colleagues..."

"Colleagues? Are you telling me that my sister's become a Shadow Slayer?" Regin's broad face looked incredulous.

"No, she's a...a wrestler..."

The big werewolf looked confused. He leant forward, causing the huge muscles in his dark arms to bunch up. His hair was the same colour as Freya's, Darkness now saw, and though his skin was much darker, there was a faint hint of freckles on his well-defined cheeks.

"It's complicated," Darkness explained, "but we're on the same side. Broadly. She's a friend."

Regin's eyes narrowed.

"Sort of..."

For some reason, Darkness didn't feel the antagonism he had so recently felt towards Freya while he was here. The air was so peaceful and it seemed like he was a million miles away from what had happened in the ring.

"Alright," Regin said, stroking his chin with one of his huge hands that Darkness could see were tipped with massive, chipped claws. "There's more story there, I can smell that much, but you're no liar."

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a judgement call," Regin informed him. "I can smell if you're lying." He tapped his nose.

"You must be a very honest people," Darkness observed.

Regin barked a laugh - and it really was a bark - but nodded his agreement. "Werewolves keep things straight forward, yes."

"Anyway...the reason I came here..."

Regin held up a hand. "Reasons can wait too. First you tell me what she is..." he pointed across the yard to where Revenant now stood in the doorway, blinking uncomfortably in the sun.

"She's Revenant."

"I know who she is. I asked what she is." He pointed to his eyes, "I see vampire," and then to his nose again, "but I smell human."

"She's the dhampyr."

Regin frowned. "It's a long time since I've heard that word. This explains a lot."

"I think so, yes."

"And now I think I know why you're here."

Darkness nodded slowly. "You can see why someone like me might need your help. There's a storm coming. The shadow is rising..."

"The shadow has always been rising," Regin said, taking up his ploughshare again, "since the dawn of time. We can all feel it in our bones, people like you and me."

"I know," Darkness said, "but she's evidence that it's about to spill over, and consume us all. Unless I have your help."

"Well you're lucky," the werewolf told him, "because not only am I the most open-minded member of this little community, but I also have a voice on the council."

"A voice?"

"We're a people of ritual, Darkness," Regin explained, "not just anyone can approach our ruling council. As I said, you're lucky, because I'm apprenticed to Elder Otr who is old and frail. I can Speak for him."

Darkness scratched his beard. "I don't understand," he admitted.

Regin placed the ploughshare down again. "The patriarch of each family Speaks for his clan at the Council of Elders. My father still serves as our Elder, which means that ordinarily I wouldn't get a chance to Speak for you, but since Otr is too ill to attend, I can go in his place."

"Why are you apprenticed to him?"

"Because I'm the eldest...well, no...I'm the eldest who will Speak. It's the way things work."

"I see. And you will allow me to say what I need to say, yes?"

Regin nodded. "I love Freya, even if the rest of the clan doesn't. A friend of hers is a friend of mine, and, like I say, you aren't a liar. It's a brave Slayer that comes into our lands, and a braver one still who brings something like her with him." He nodded at Revenant who still stood in the doorway. The Little Ones had begun to gather ‘round her, staring up at the girl. She looked uncomfortable with the attention.

"Thank you. I need the help of your people."

"I know. The next meeting of the council isn't for a number of days. When the time comes, I'll Speak there. Be warned though; they are unlikely to listen to what I have to say."

"Could I not go with you?"

Regin laughed. "No. No you cannot."

"So what should we do until then?"

"Stay here," Regin shrugged, "there's room enough, and if anyone else finds out a Slayer and a half-vampire are in our lands, there'll be trouble."

"I understand."

"No, I don't think you do." Regin stood up, rising to his full height. He towered over Darkness and he now saw, in the full light of day, just how massive the werewolf was. "There is a shadow in your soul, Darkness," Regin said softly, "I can smell it on you, and I can feel it deeper too. You left it by the waystones when you came here, because a shadow like that can't enter this place, but it still calls to you and its still latched onto you, like you're a pike on a fishing line. Don't bring that shadow here; don't expose my family or my people to it."

Darkness met his host's emerald gaze. "I understand," he repeated.

"Good. I don't want word of any of this getting out."

The sun was rising as Freya entered the forest. It had been raining hard for the last few hours and now she was soaked through. The dawn chorus was in full swing, giving anyone in the wood a false sense of security.

Freya walked along the narrow path, following the faint smell of Darkness and Revenant which had been diluted by the rain. She stopped, the smell had changed; there were others here, werewolves, intermingling and making it impossible to identity an individual, masking the pair she was following. She moved on slowly, hoping to find what she was looking for. The mish-mash of smells left the path, but Darkness didn't re-emerge. Freya was stuck - she could follow the group, although she didn't know who they were, and as she wasn't supposed to be welcome here, that may not be the best move, she reflected.

She carried on the path towards the village she knew lay ahead, leaving the path before it reached the clearing. She skirted around the edge, just within the tree line. Not many people would be up at this time of day, but if even one were to see her, this trip would become incredibly difficult. She reached the back of a familiar building that she'd sneaked into often enough when she was younger to make breaking in now a simple matter. She squelched through the vegetable patch and dropped low by the wall. The building was made of roughly hewn stone, so there were plenty of footholds as she scrabbled up the wall.

The simple sash window was easily opened and she dropped in quietly. Her room hadn't changed much; a layer of dust, a few bits from other parts of the house, but otherwise untouched. Freya shivered and pulled what she hoped were dry clothes out of her bag. They weren't. She dripped over to the chest of drawers, leaving footprints in the virgin dust. She managed to dig out a dark brown woven top and loose cotton trousers. She changed out of her own clothes, into the dry ones and sat on her bed. She picked up one of the dust-covered teddy bears next to her and fondled its head.

She wasn't sure what to do. Darkness and Rev had encountered some werewolves, and she knew her people wouldn't be at all happy with a Shadow Slayer just wandering into the settlement. And if she was found returning after her apparent banishment...well, she didn't know what the punishment would be. She'd never known anyone else to be exiled like she had.

She sat quietly, trying to think of a solution. She wasn't even one hundred percent sure why Darkness was here, but she doubted whatever he had in mind would have a happy ending. The curtains fluttered in the wind and she realised she'd left the window open. The curtain caught a vase standing on the table by the window and the world seemed to slow down as it toppled and dropped to the wooden floor, shattering.

Freya held her breath. Voices came from downstairs, and there were footsteps on the stairs. She grabbed her things hurriedly and dived under the bed.

The door creaked open, and a pair of bare feet entered. They were hairy, and the nails tapped on the floor boards as the person crossed to the window and shut it. They turned and went towards the door. They were almost at the door when they stopped.

"Come out, Freya."

The voice was male, but it wasn't the gruff tones of her father. She wiggled out from under the bed and found herself at Regin's feet. He shut the door gently as Freya got to her feet.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in a low voice.

"I needed some dry clothes."

Regin raised an eyebrow. "Really? All this way for a musty top?"

"And trousers. Mine were soaked." Freya nudged her bag which left a wet trail on the floor where she'd dragged it.

"So nothing to do with the Shadow Slayer?"

"That depends on how much trouble he's gotten himself into."

"He's at my house, so safe for the moment." His face grew stern. "Why is he here?"

"He's staying in your house but he hasn't told you why he's here?"

"We talked this morning. He wants to speak to the Council of Elders."

Freya sucked air through her teeth. "He knows that won't happen, right?"

"I did tell him. You didn't say why he was here."

Freya sat on the bed, sending up a cloud of dust. "We were talking a few weeks ago and he mentioned a war, but we got distracted." She furrowed her brow, trying to remember what had happened. She suspected they'd got into another argument.

"Alright then, little one, we need to get you out of here." Regin picked up Freya's bag and walked over to the window, opening it with one hand.

"Where am I meant to go? The Council have ‘banished' me or whatever..."

Regin's face hardened. "I know. I tried to talk father out of it." He stopped as Freya's face fell. It was one thing to be exiled by a bunch of old men, but quite another to find out that a member of her immediate family had been the ringleader.

Regin crouched down in front of her. "Come on, kid. Bevan'll have breakfast going. The porridge was nearly done when I left." He tried to muss up her hair, but Freya caught his hand.

"Leave off, Regin. We've never been close."

He looked slightly pained. "It wasn't my choice to leave..."

"I know," Freya said quietly, getting up and moving to the window.

"If I could change how things were..."

"Don't worry about it, Regin. Things are as they are."

"I know. But right now, no matter what else has happened, I'm the only one in this community who's on your side. I didn't even know how to start explaining things to father downstairs. I'm grateful that you interrupted us."

"What will you tell him?" she asked.

"A squirrel maybe..."

She laughed, and then climbed through the window, dropping out of sight. Regin sighed and closed the window behind her, leaving to go downstairs and make his excuses to their father.

**

Darkness and Revenant sat at the kitchen table. Bevan was outside, dealing with the animals. They both had a bowl of porridge; the werewolf woman had been very forceful about the idea of breakfast.

The tots were in front of the large wrought iron stove, still fighting. Revenant was staring at them. "So...are they born, like, all at once or something?"

"Like a litter?" Darkness asked.

"Yeah."

"I have no idea."

Revenant shrugged and spooned up some of her porridge. The Little Ones rolled under the table and around Darkness's feet. He looked under the table and found several pairs of green eyes looking at him. He smiled at them. They yelped and, as a collective, rolled away, snapping at each other as they went.

The heavy front door was opened as he straightened back up and Freya stepped in.

"Comfortable, are we?" she asked icily, dropping her bag on the floor.

"Your family are very kind," Darkness said.

"They shouldn't have to be. I can't believe you came here, especially after we talked."

"There's a war coming."

"So you keep saying. But they won't want to help."

"That choice should be theirs," Darkness insisted.

Freya was just about to retort when Bevan walked in. "Oh, you're back as well are you?" She began to bustle around the kitchen.

"Yeah. I met Regin at my parents' house. He told me to stop in. I hope it's okay."

Bevan muttered something and added another bowl of porridge to the massive table.

"Actually, I'm not..." she began to say, but then changed her mind about arguing and sat at the table. Her feet didn't touch the floor when she was seated on the bench.

"Are these yours?" Bevan pointed at Freya's bag with a long claw.

"Yeah, my things got wet. Is there somewhere I can hang them?"

"I'll do it." Bevan took the bag and left, tutting and collecting her gaggle of children as she went.

Freya prodded her porridge around the bowl. "So, how are you enjoying England, Rev?"

"It's alright. Is the weather always like this?"

"Close enough, why?"

"There's not too much sun."

Freya laughed a little into her porridge.

"So you're just going to ignore me now?" Darkness asked.

Freya placed her spoon down. "I don't know why you want to drag these people into what's coming. Do you really want Bevan on the front line, skillet in hand? What about Regin? Do you really want him to leave his family? He's a farmer, all these people are. Ask him what crops he has growing, I'm sure you'll be asleep before he finishes." She picked up her spoon again. "They're not fighters."

"It's in their blood."

"And monkey is in your blood, but I'm not going to ask you to live in a tree."

Darkness frowned. "You seem very quick to look after your people's well being. I thought you were running from what you were..."

"Hey," Freya jabbed the spoon at him, "you don't know the first thing about me, Buffy, so don't start talking like..."

"Kids?" Regin had put his massive head around the door. "There's something you might want to see going on in town."

"Is it really a good idea for us to go into the village?" Freya looked at Darkness.

"Yes. This is something you really want to see..."

"This way..." Regin beckoned them along a faint trail through the forest until the shapes of low buildings came into view through the foliage. They approached the tree line gingerly and Regin looked this way and that for a vantage point.

"Up here," he said, tilting his head upwards to indicate they should scale a tree with a thick, gnarled trunk. Being summer, the leaves were dense and once Darkness, Revenant, Freya and Regin had scaled it they were totally hidden from the village they now overlooked.

Darkness observed the settlement with interest. Just like everything in Regin's house, the village had an air of the homemade about it. There was nothing mass-produced, and every house had its own rambling design. The square in the centre of the town, around which all the other buildings were arrayed in concentric circles was paved, though the stone surface looked to be in need of repair. There was a well in the centre of the wide, circular space.

But what grabbed the attention of the watchers as well as the people going about their business in the town were the half dozen hulking shapes that padded their way into the plaza, growling and sniffing. Regin made a disapproving noise.

"What is it?" Darkness asked, confused.

"It's...well...it's bad manners to adopt lupine form like that," Freya answered, "it indicates aggression."

"Why?" Revenant asked.

"Because werewolves transform only when they have to," Regin said this time, "which means either during a full moon or when fighting. It's not a full moon, which means these guys are getting ready for violence."

The wolves continued to prowl the square until the villagers slunk back into the shadows, watching carefully. Finally, a new wolf joined them, larger and with jet-black fur.

Darkness's eyebrows climbed up his forehead and Freya glanced at him. She placed a finger on her lips to silence him.

The other wolves rose up to their hind legs and, with a sound like meat and bones being fed through a mincer, adopted their humanoid forms. They were fully clothed as they stood up and stretched their arms.

"How did they do that?" Regin breathed.

Freya pulled out the wooden talisman hanging from the leather thong around her neck. "I think they have one of these each."

Regin moved to examine the charm, but movement in the square caught his attention. One of the werewolves stepped towards the black wolf with a ragged cloak in his hands and placed it over the beast's shoulders as it rose up and adopted humanoid form too, pulling the cloak around him to cover his modesty.

"Then why doesn't he have one?" Regin wondered, and Freya dangled the talisman again, and gave her brother a significant look.

The black wolf was now standing at the centre of his cohort, evidently retrieving his personal effects from his henchmen. His hair was as black as his fur had been in wolf form and, like Regin's, hung down his shoulders in thick braids. He was, if anything, larger than their host, and darker-skinned, with a huge, heavily muscled frame. He looked far more savage than the last time Darkness had seen him in Athens.

Fenris walked towards the well, rolling his heavy shoulders and smiling his predatory grin. His dark robes were decorated with bone and stone amulets but, gruesomely, his cloak was hung with grisly trophies, specifically what looked like hands, hacked off at the forearm. Some looked worryingly fresh.

"Fenris by name, Fenris by nature," Darkness observed dryly. Unconsciously, he held his prosthetic hand close to his body in sympathy for the werewolf's victims.

"It's good to be home," Fenris growled as he circled the well, tracing a dark claw along the stonework rim. "But I find the welcome cold...where is the joy at the return of the town's most favoured son, and his companions who are pillars of the community?"

Fenris's ruffians didn't look like pillars of the community as they adopted stations around the square, fanning out to cover the whole area.

"Where is the ‘welcome home' for Fenris of Clan Gar'leth? Where is my father?"

A door opened in front of Fenris and a tall figure emerged from the shadows. Darkness felt Freya tense up as a werewolf, looking like Fenris and Regin, with the same green eyes, but leaner and with his dark hair shot through with grey, stepped into the sun.

"I told you not to come back, Fenris," the newcomer said, folding his arms across his chest.

"How many more of your children will you exile, Magnus?" one of Fenris's henchmen called across the square, only for his leader to silence him with a raised hand.

"I'm not here to debate with you, father," Fenris said, "but to give you a warning. You've listened to me in the past; overlook what happened last time and instead listen to me now."

"Your warnings are not welcome here," Magnus replied, stoically holding his ground, "you disrupt the community. You bring unwelcome ideas. We don't want to hear what you have to say."

Fenris shook his huge head. "Father, we've spoken of this before. My ideas are the same as yours - like you, I wish to preserve the Old Ways. We differ merely on the details of application..."

"Why are you here, Fenris?" Magnus asked, cutting off his son's rhetoric.

"To tell you that there is an intruder in your midst."

Freya's eyes went wide and she turned to Regin, open-mouthed.

"I told him nothing," her brother insisted, "I saw him coming and went to find you. We exchanged no words."

"I have a hard time believing that..."

"There's no love lost between Fenris and I, you know that."

"Right."

Fenris was now walking around the square again. "It seems my philosophy has never been more vital," he said loud enough for everyone in the general area to hear him, "this community has let its guard down, and a cancer has been allowed to enter it. I can smell the stink of the intruder, even if the rest of you can't."

"What are you talking about, Fenris?" Magnus asked him with a frustrated look.

"There is a Shadow Slayer among you!" Fenris bellowed, rounding on his father.

A shocked noise rippled across the square and Magnus looked flustered. "What is this nonsense? How would a Shadow Slayer pass our borders unnoticed? My son, your own brother, leads the patrols that guard our lands."

"We have to get out of here," Freya said.

Regin looked worried, his massive brow was furrowed and his eyes darted uncomfortably from the square to his companions in the tree.

"What do we do?" Revenant looked panicked as she tugged at Darkness's arm.

"Freya's right," he admitted, "maybe coming here was a mistake. I had no idea Fenris would be here."

"Wait...have you met him?" Regin asked, turning to Darkness.

"I fought him in Athens. It would be best if we left. Perhaps he'll follow us and I can question him about my daughter again..."

"Hold on, hold on," Regin's hands were raised now. It was clear his mind was working hard to keep up with everything that was going on. "Fenris is an enemy of yours?"

"Yes. He serves the Abyss."

Regin scratched at his scalp. "I'm having a hard time taking this in..."

"It's simple," Freya sighed, "Fenris is a prick, and he's playing you all for fools. If he finds us, he'll kill us, and probably you as well."

"But..."

"Are you going to help us get the hell out of here or not?" Freya demanded, "Because if you wanted us being here to stay a secret, that isn't going to happen now..."

Regin's mouth opened, then closed again. "If what you say is true...if Fenris is..."

Darkness glanced at Freya, and then pushed past her, repositioning himself against the trunk of the tree so he was facing Regin. "Regin...this is exactly why I came here. Fenris is just one symptom of the approaching shadow. If he can infiltrate your society and introduce new ideas, you'll be consumed from within. Let us stay, let us fight Fenris on his own terms. We can save your people, your home, and your family."

Regin nodded slowly. "I never thought I'd agree with a Shadow Slayer..."

"Oh for fuck's sake," Freya threw up her hands. "We're going to stay then, are we? Thanks to Buffy and his bloody superiority complex."

"We're all at risk, Freya," Darkness told her with a scowl.

"Sure. But why do you have to be involved in this business with my family?"

"Would you rather just leave them to their fate? Let Fenris turn your people into a weapon for the Abyss to use against us?"

"No, that isn't what I said!" She jabbed a finger at his chest, "I just resent you..."

"Uh...guys..."

Revenant tugged at Freya's sleeve and pointed to the square. Fenris and Magnus were still arguing, but now the dark werewolf was pointing in their direction.

"Oh shit," Freya cursed, "come on, let's get out of here."

She dropped nimbly from the tree, and Revenant followed her, hopping neatly to the floor. Darkness struggled down with slightly more effort, and finally Regin made his way down, landing with a grunt on the forest floor.

"He's coming for us," Revenant said.

"Quick, into the forest," Regin barked, "I'll head him off..."

Freya, Darkness and Rev rushed back the way they'd come as Fenris charged through a gap in the houses and crashed right into Regin. The farmer brought his brother down and fixed his huge hands around him, holding him to the ground.

"Drop it, Fenris," Regin growled.

Fenris tried to say something, but Regin pressed down, forcing the air form his lungs.

"Listen to me, brother. I've heard some nasty rumours about you. We both obviously have a lot to say, but how about we make a deal, eh? You say what you have to say, and I'll say what I have to say, but we'll save it till the meeting of the Council, alright?"

Suddenly, Fenris's goons were there, and they hauled Regin off their master, yanking up to his feet. Regin pulled himself free with a growl as Fenris picked himself up.

"Why should I cut a deal with you, Regin? You're hiding an enemy of our people."

"And the way I hear it, you are an enemy of our people."

Fenris made to charge again, but Regin hunched down and bared his teeth. "Come on...you want to fight me? I guarantee it won't be worth your while, traitor."

Fenris snorted. "Alright. There's accusations flying around here, I see that. We'll do things your way. At the Council of Elders next week, we'll each tell our story, and they can decide just who they should be listening to."

"Good." Regin straightened, but he kept his hands raised as he circled around Fenris, placing himself between his brother and the route by which his guests had escaped.

"I can smell them, Regin," Fenris said softly, "I can smell them on you. I know what you're hiding."

"Save it for the Council, or I'll start telling people what I know. There's no lies in werewolf society, Fenris. They'll know it's true."

Fenris's eyes narrowed, and he nodded sharply. "Fine. Till the Council meets."

The huge werewolf turned, and his henchmen followed in his wake, throwing threatening glances back at Regin, who breathed deeply as he stepped back into the forest.

On the edge of the square, Magnus waited for his son. "What was that about?"

"Nothing," Fenris growled. He turned and faced the assembled throng of werewolves. "At the next meeting of the Council of Elders," he told them, "I will address our community as a whole and demonstrate just how far the rot has gone here."

"You have no voice on the Council," Magnus reminded him, "you gave up your right to succeed me."

"Of course. I will Speak through you, father."

"What makes you think I'll say what you want?"

Fenris grinned. "Let's go inside. When you hear what I have to tell you, you'll be only too happy to carry my words to the Council."

Darkness, Freya and Revenant moved quickly, moving between trees, jumping over fallen logs and getting tangled in branches. They made it back to Regin's cottage, slightly out of breath, and burst in on Bevan.

"What's gotten into you lot?" she asked, taking her hands out of her basin and wiping them on her expansive skirt.

"Fenris has returned," Darkness said simply.

"You're all coming out of the woodwork, aren't you?" She moved around the kitchen, shooing the Little Ones out of her way. "I wouldn't be surprised if Bronson turned up next."

Freya blanched a little at the thought of another problem brother turning up. Revenant's expression hardened at the name. No one noticed the girl's reaction.

The heavy door was opened and Regin came in. The Little Ones yelped and ran to the big werewolf, for once not fighting with each other. Regin scooped up a number of them, lifting them high in the air. There were happy burbling noises.

"We need to talk." Darkness's voice drew Regin's attention away from his children. He placed the infants on the floor.

"We do, but not now."

"But..."

"I think we've had enough this morning. There are jobs to be done." Regin saw the look on Darkness's face. "The council don't meet until next week. There will be time to talk."

Darkness tried to argue, but Regin cut him off, placing a large hand on his shoulder. "We will talk later. We don't want to worry them." Regin nodded in the direction of Bevan, Revenant and Freya.

Darkness raised an eyebrow at his host and stepped away. "What...?"

Regin disarmed the former Slayer with a grin and then pulled open the door. "Come," he said to Darkness, "I have a few things I could use a man's help with." Darkness followed him out.

"I'm coming with you." Freya grabbed the door before Regin could shut it.

"So am I..." Revenant tried to follow but found a hand holding her back.

"Not so fast," Bevan said, "I need some help here."

Revenant found herself being sat down at the large kitchen table, a large bowl of pods placed in front of her.

"Once you've done these, there are potatoes to peel."

**

Darkness and Freya had been left to seed part of Regin's vegetable patch. Patch was a bit of an understatement though; it was more like a field.

Freya leant against the seed bag her brother had left her in charge of. Darkness attacked the clayey soil with a spade.

"Come on, give me the spade. I can do that."

Darkness looked at Freya. "If you could do this, why are you in charge of the seeds?"

"Do you think I belong in the kitchen too?"

"Who thinks you belong in the kitchen?" He was surprised at the sudden change in subject.

"Every male werewolf." Freya dropped some seeds in the trench Darkness had made and filled it in with her shoe. Darkness looked up at the troubled woman. Although he felt peaceful among the werewolves, he could see that wasn't the case for her.

"We're not allowed a voice on the Council, we're just expected to stay at home and have kids." Freya sounded like she was talking to herself more than she was Darkness. She dropped seeds, covered them with soil and then stood on it, leaving a trainer print in the dirt.

"Is that why you left?"

Freya thought for a second. "Not exactly. I'm sure if I was like the others I'd be married, have a grubby litter of my own..."

"You don't like the Little Ones?" Darkness asked, interrupting her.

Freya shrugged by way of reply.

"Anyway," she went on, "I'd have kids and see no problem with anything. But I'm not the same, am I?"

The pair worked, Darkness struggling in the heat, Freya watching, placing seeds every so often.

"So what happens at the Council?" Darkness stopped to catch a breath, leaning on his spade.

"I'm a girl. I'm not invited, remember?"

Darkness looked at her, eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, okay, I've seen a few," Freya replied, grinning, "several old men, the heads of the clans, and the discuss issues inside a stone circle."

"A stone circle? Like the waystones?"

"Yeah, but in the heart of the forest, not out by the edge." Freya looked at Darkness. "You can't go to the meeting."

"So people keep telling me."

"Why are you so desperate to bring war to my people?"

"I thought we talked about this. I'm not bringing war to anyone. War has come of its own accord. I want to protect them as much as you seem to - the difference is I think they should have a fighting chance, not just stay hidden and wait for the inevitable. You complain, but you defend them like this, even though you know what Fenris represents and who he serves. You're a hypocrite."

"Yeah, I am. I may not like my family, but they're still my family. Look at the way they are; they don't need or want a war. I'd do anything I could to stop them being involved."

"They're involved already," Darkness said softly, "thanks to Fenris. And thanks to you."

Freya grabbed the shovel from Darkness. "Come on," she snapped, "let's get this finished."

The sun was low over the trees as Darkness leant on the spade and nodded in satisfaction at the now fully planted field. Freya sat down heavily on the soil and wiped a hand across her sweating forehead.

"Why are you sweating? You weren't the one digging..."

She stuck out her tongue at him. "I hate this heat," she sighed, squinting at the orange sky to the west.

"Yeah, I think you burnt your arms."

Freya made a vexed noise in her throat as she twisted her arms and tried to crane her neck to see the pink flesh that had been burnt by the sun. "Goddamnit...who ever heard of a werewolf getting sunburn?"

Darkness straightened and hefted the spade, sliding it over one shoulder. "Well we should head back. Your sister-in-law probably has dinner ready."

"She usually does, yeah."

"How do you mean?"

Freya stood up and dusted herself down. "Oh she's always cooking something that one. If Regin didn't work on the farm all day he'd be the size of a house with the amount she feeds him."

"He is the size of a house..."

"No, I mean...a fat house. You know."

Darkness laughed and started to walk towards the dark shape of Regin's home on the other side of the wide clearing that sheltered his farm. By the time they reached the front door the sun had sunk below the trees and dusk had crept in around them. Darkness leant his spade on the wall outside and stepped into the huge kitchen that now smelt like every childhood memory he had distilled and liberally spread over the walls.

"Just in time," Bevan told them with a tut as she started to ladle something into a huge bowl.

Revenant sat at the table, her pointed little chin rested on her hands, looking thoroughly miserable.

"Had a nice day?" Darkness asked her conversationally.

"You'd better enjoy these vegetables," she replied darkly.

Freya flummoxed down on the bench and sprawled out across the table.

"What's up with you?" Revenant asked.

"Hot," Freya grumbled.

"Yeah, well I spent all day indoors with a stove burning in the corner. How do you think I feel?"

"Oh come on, you burn worse than I do. I just don't like the sun - it's not anathema to my heritage."

"Come on, girls, enough bickering," Regin said as he entered the kitchen. He grinned broadly at Bevan and his guests. Several of the Little Ones were clustered around him, climbing him like a hairy Everest, clinging to his massive limbs and getting lost in his thick braids. Every now and then he extricated one of them and planted a kiss on its grubby cheek or tossed it up into the air, eliciting wild screams of glee from the fortunate child.

"Wash your hands," Bevan ordered, pointing a threatening spoon at her gaggle and then turning to encompass everyone else in the order too.

Dutifully, the Little Ones lined up at the basin, splashing water on their faces and hands one by one. Darkness, standing behind Revenant and Freya, made an attempt to count them, but they still seemed to find a way of avoiding quantifying by falling into small fights every now and again.

Regin noticed Darkness observing his children and, with a smile, scooped one up. He held the infant in his arms and brought it towards Darkness. The former Shadow Slayer found himself face-to-face with a tiny werewolf girl with enormous green eyes. She peered at him through dark shaggy hair and placed a fist in her small mouth.

"This is Eir. My youngest."

Darkness reached out a finger and gently tapped her oddly-shaped nose, causing Eir to giggle and cover her face with her hands. She watched him over her clasped fingers, blinking slowly as he smiled at her.

"How old is she?"

"Just two," Regin said, the pride in his voice obvious, "the others pick on her, but she can hold her own."

"She's beautiful."

Regin looked down at the bundle in his arms as Eir reached up and tugged at his braids, twining chubby fingers around any loose strand of hair she could find. "Do you have children?" he asked Darkness.

"I...I have a daughter," Darkness said softly.

"How old?"

"She'd be eight now."

Regin frowned. "I don't understand..."

"She was taken from me," Darkness explained, his voice wavering slightly, "when she was very young. I thought she was dead for years, but she's alive, in the hands of my enemies."

"I had no idea. I'm sorry." Darkness looked up at Regin and saw his own pain reflected in the big werewolf's eyes. "I don't know what I'd do if someone took Eir - or any of the others - away from me."

"I still don't know what to do," Darkness admitted, "The pain never goes away when you lose someone you love, but you bury it inside you and make it a part of who you are. It becomes something you hold on to, because the thought that you might forget the grief is even worse than the grief itself. I thought the pain of losing my family was all I had left of them."

"And now you know your daughter is alive..."

"I don't know how to handle it."

"Who took her?"

"A man called Seth," Darkness said, "he serves the Abyss."

Regin looked at Darkness as he held Eir close to his chest. "I had no idea that they took something like that from you. I thought you were just a Shadow Slayer who was doing his job."

"I'm not a Shadow Slayer," Darkness told him, "I gave that life up to start a family. I'm just a man now, doing what I can."

Regin watched his guest for a few moments longer before he looked over his shoulder at the table, around which the Little Ones were now sat, some tall enough to peer over the edge of the table, others needing to propped up on cushions that Bevan provided. Freya and Revenant sat opposite each other at the other end, both of them regarding the children with a mixture of trepidation and amusement.

"Dinner is being served," the werewolf told Darkness as he turned back to him, "but after, you and I will talk. I think the Council will listen to your story now, but I need to know all of it."

"You won't let me speak for myself?"

"It is forbidden," Regin reminded him, "that's why we will talk."

Darkness nodded and the two men made their way to the table. Darkness seated himself between Revenant and what he now determined was a male child. He looked older than most of the others and the wash he had taken in the basin had done little to remove the dirt that seemed to permanently smear his sun-brown cheeks.

"Hello," the child said in a small voice.

"Hello," Darkness replied.

The child suddenly shifted position, standing up on the bench. He reached across the table with a small paw and scooped up a handful of butter, which he shoved into his mouth before sitting back down. He mulled over his mouthful for a few moments before looking back up at Darkness. His face was smeared with yellow grease.

"I eated a butter," he announced proudly.

"Don't show off, Borr," Bevan scolded from the head of the table as she began to spoon out food over Regin's shoulder. Eir sat on her father's lap, grabbing small fistfuls of dinner from his plate as it was loaded up.

Bevan made her way around the table, filling everyone's plates with vegetables from her bowl, giving each of the Little Ones a portion relative to their size and following the same pattern for her guests, giving Darkness significantly more food than Freya or Revenant. There was still far more than any of the three could realistically eat however.

Bevan began another circuit of the table, this time spooning out slices of red meat that appeared to be beef.

"You have cows?" Darkness asked Regin.

"Not me, no," he replied as he liberated a too-large chunk of meat from Eir, "the vegetables are mine, but the beef comes from the next farm over."

"So..." Darkness was unsure how to phrase his question, "...animal husbandry must be...challenging...in an isolated place like this..."

Regin laughed. "It is a little. Our cows are even more inbred than we are. Fortunately, that gives us a chance to experiment a little. If we can keep our livestock's gene pool moving we can use the lessons from that in our own community."

"That's...um...a little frank..."

"Well it's a personal project of mine," Regin explained, "I've done a lot of work towards improving our farming techniques. These last few months that Otr has been too ill to attend the Council have been very useful as I've been able to introduce a lot of agricultural reforms."

Darkness nodded sagely. "You're obviously passionate about farming."

"Someone has to be," Regin chuckled.

Freya and Revenant exchanged a glance across the table. "I can't believe he's found someone as boring as him," the half-vampire said under her breath, causing Freya to smile wryly.

The group began to eat, Darkness, Freya and Revenant picking at their huge meals and trying to make some headway while the Little Ones gorged themselves and generally made a mess across the table. Regin and Bevan ate heartily while little Eir continued to pick at her father's plate, occasionally wresting a chunk of meat from his fork and gobbling it down with a satisfied smile.

Eventually they all began to see their plates beneath the food and, soon enough, the meal was drawing to a close. Darkness laid his fork down by his mostly-finished meal and placed a hand on his stomach.

"I think that's all I can eat," he told Bevan apologetically.

"Oh?" Freya asked as she chewed a mouthful of mashed potato, "what happened to ‘nescit cedere', hotshot?"

"I can defeat Arch-Demons and Vampire Lords," Darkness smiled, "but today roast beef and mashed potato raises its hand in victory over me."

A commotion at the end of the table caught their attention at that moment. Eir had a piece of meat in her tiny fist but one of her siblings had a grip on the other side of it. The two were engaged in a small tug-of-war over the beef, which the much smaller Eir was losing. Finally, her fingers slipped off the greasy morsel and she tumbled back into her father's lap.

With a triumphant smile, the victorious sibling placed the meat in his mouth and chewed it extravagantly, pausing only to stick his tongue out at his sister.

Little Eir sat sadly on Regin's lap, looking forlornly at her brother with her huge eyes brimming with tears.

"Don't cry, runt!" her bother crowed, opening his mouth to show her the half-chewed food.

The cry was taken up by the other Little Ones, who all cried "runt, runt!" in small, high-pitched voices.

"Hey," Freya said with a deep frown, "are you going to let them bully her like that?"

Regin pursed his lips. He pulled Eir towards him, but neither he nor Bevan scolded any of the children.

"You know how they are," Regin told his sister, "she can look after herself."

"No she can't!" Freya insisted, "she's two!"

"They're her brothers and sisters," Bevan said, "they mean no harm. They love her too, but this is how children are."

"And it's how they'll stay if you don't tell them it's wrong," Freya growled, "and before you know it Eir is going to be packing her bags like I did."

"Freya," Regin sighed, "it was different when you were younger..."

"No it wasn't," she snapped, "it was exactly the same. You all stole my food and called me runt too. I didn't come back here because I missed you all you know. If it hadn't been for him," she pointed her fork at Darkness, "I'd have never come back."

Regin looked hurt, and seemed about to say something.

"Did you forget I'm supposed to be exiled? I wonder if they'll do the same to Eir when she gets fed up of being bullied and leaves too."

"Eir isn't like you," Regin mumbled.

"No, I suppose not. See, she's just the youngest, I got to be the youngest and the weakest and the one that looked different. I was always an embarrassment to dad with my fair skin and my little legs." She flung her fork down. "I think I'll go for a walk."

With that, she swung herself off the bench and stormed out of the kitchen, leaving everyone else in embarrassed silence.

* * *

Freya thrust her hands in her pockets as she picked her way through the forest. She knew it had been a mistake coming back here and seeing the way Eir was treated by her siblings showed her that nothing had changed with her family.

Regin hadn't been there through most of her childhood, having already been apprenticed to Otr at that stage once Fenris had turned down the offer of succeeding their father onto the Council. He hadn't been one of her tormentors, but he was still a typical werewolf male, and, despite his interest in agricultural reforms, he obviously had no inclination to make any similar changes to the social order of their community.

She kicked a clod of earth out of her path. The track she followed was barely visible in the undergrowth, even to her finely honed vision and it was clear no one had come this way in some years. Probably since she'd last been here, in fact.

With a start she realised where she was headed. As a child she'd gone exploring outside the village and she used to circle ‘round this way so she could sneak into places where a young werewolf girl wasn't supposed to go.

She crept through the forest as she felt the same buzz of excitement she had once felt when she'd followed this path as a child. She smiled to herself, but then something made her stop.

Ahead of her she could smell something. Someone. No, an entire group. There were familiar smells - her father, Fenris, others she hadn't smelt in a long time.

Her heart froze in her chest. This path led to the stone circle where the Council of Elders met; this was the route she'd taken to spy on them all those years ago. She squinted through the darkness and then discerned in the distance, through the dark trunks and branches where she knew the stone circle was, the dull glow of firelight.

"Oh bollocks..." she whispered.

The Council of Elders weren't meeting next week; someone or something had convinced them to convene tonight instead.

Freya burst into the house to find Regin and Darkness sat beside the fire, little Eir curled up on her father's lap, eyes closed, a thumb in her mouth, one tiny hand clasped around a carved ornament in his hair. The werewolf and former Slayer looked at Freya who stood panting in the doorway.

"Council...meeting..." she managed to get out.

Darkness jumped up. "What?"

Freya clasped a stitch in her side but stood a little straighter. "The Council...at the stone circle...meeting now..."

Regin was on his feet, Eir in his arms, who was now looking around sleepily. "They can't be," he insisted, "the meeting is next week."

"Well they're there now."

Regin passed Eir to Freya who held her rather awkwardly.

"I wish we'd been able to talk more," Regain told Darkness, "but we have no time now. I'll have to go there and try to tell your story..."

"Let me come with you," Darkness implored.

Regin shook his head. "I'm sorry, I can't. Only Elders, or those Speaking for them, are allowed to be present."

"Fenris was there," Freya remembered, "and I doubt he went alone."

Regin's mouth tightened into a line. "Come," he said, walking past Freya and out into the night.

Darkness stepped past her too. "Aren't you coming?" he asked her.

Freya looked at Regin. "No, I've got to stay here," she bounced Eir in her arms and Darkness raised an eyebrow. "Go," she said, waving him away, "you don't need to worry about us, hotshot. Just don't do anything too stupid."

She waited until Regin and Darkness had passed out of the orange oblong of light that poured out of the front door and had entered the wood before she closed the door. She looked down at the infant in her arms, who after finding Freya's hair plain and unadorned, now had her fist back in her mouth.

"Your daddy's so silly," she said to the small child, removing the fist. She hurried up the stairs and found Bevan putting the other children to bed.

"Here." Freya passed Eir to Bevan.

"I thought she was with Regin..."

"He's had to go out. The Council are meeting."

"I thought that was next week."

Freya shrugged. "So did he." She looked around at the numerous beds squeezed into the room. All different sizes, all handmade. "Which room is Revenant in?"

Bevan made a disapproving noise. "She's at the end of the corridor."

Freya left Bevan and her brood and went to Revenant's room. She slipped in and closed the door firmly behind her.

"Don't you knock?" she heard a voice ask.

Freya turned and found herself fixed in Rev's dead-eye stare.

"Sorry, this is..." she stopped. "Don't you have any other clothes?"

Revenant played with the hem of her t-shirt but didn't reply.

"Okay, never mind. Just get up and meet me outside in five minutes."

"Why?"

"Because the Council is meeting and I smell trouble..."

"Really? You can smell that?" The half-vampire girl looked impressed.

"No, not actually smell it. It's just a saying." She threw Rev's trousers at her. "Where is Darkness's room?"

Revenant narrowed her eyes. "Next door. Why?"

"Just want to take him some backup." She opened the door. "Oh, and don't forget your..." she extended her arms and made a movement like Spiderman's webbing motion, "...things..."

"They work like this actually," Revenant replied, balling her fist over.

"Whatever. Outside; five minutes."

Freya shut Revenant's door and let herself into Darkness's room. Down the hall her sister-in-law was singing a lullaby. She shut the heavy door behind her, leaving the room in total blackness; not that it bothered her. She looked around. There wasn't much that belonged to the warrior in here; his coat hung over a chair, his holstered guns lying on the end of the bed, that weird belt he'd had made or repaired or whatever. Then she saw what she looking for: his sword propped against the wall. She approached it slowly, feeling an odd sense of reverence for the weapon. She reached out to take it, feeling an unnatural warmth as her hand got closer. She knew it wasn't a regular sword, but she didn't know its history.

Her hand wrapped itself around the baldric and she pulled the strap over her head. The sword was long; it touched her ankles. It also had an unusual weight, feeling both heavy and light at the same time somehow.

Next she reached for the pistols. She grimaced as she picked them up, being careful to keep her hands away from the chamber that she knew held silver bullets. Quickly she strapped the belt with the holsters around her waist and tried to adjust to the strange weight at her hips.

She breathed softly at her unusual attire and then left the room.

**

Revenant waited in the gloom of the trees, her sight unhindered by the lack of light. She saw Freya approach.

"Where have you been? You said you'd be five minutes..."

"I had to look for something."

"What?"

"Weapons."

Revenant noticed the sword and the guns. "You're not planning to use those, are you?"

"Don't be ridiculous," she waggled the hilt of the sword over her shoulder, "this thing is nearly as big as I am and I'm not sure I'd even be able to use these without my hands getting blown off," she pointed two fingers down at the pistols. "I've got these instead," she smiled, holding up what appeared to be two steak knives. Clearly designed for werewolf hands, they were like two short-swords for Freya.

The two girls made their way through the wood, Freya in front, following the path she'd reforged earlier.

When they could see the stone circle ahead of them, illuminated by flickering orange firelight, Freya motioned for them to crouch behind the roots of a fallen tree. They could see Regin and Darkness, neither of them looking happy. Freya suddenly realised why: Fenris stood in the centre of the circle and opening his arms to address the assembled Elders.

**

"I have come to offer you a future; a future you all deserve," Fenris began, "we shouldn't be here, waiting for a future that may never come. Hiding even from ourselves. Regin knows...my brother agrees with me, even if he doesn't realise it yet."

Fenris stood smiling. He looked around at the Elders, their grey hair as long as their beards.

"We all know the prophecies. The stories of The Wolftime that were promised to us. We all know that my father, Magnus of Clan Gar'Leth, has been preparing for this, preparing us all for the final battle. We have been in hiding, as the Old Ways tell us. We have been secretive and forgotten."

He paused, allowing his words to sink in. They had heard these arguments before, but now his enemies had delivered something into his hands that would help him finally convince them of the truth.

"Humans have been encroaching, the Waystones have kept them out so far, but this Slayer that stands amongst us today," he gestured towards Darkness, "shows that we may not be as hidden as we had hoped.

"The Wolftime is no longer ahead of us. The prophecies are lies. The world has changed without us, thanks to his kind." Fenris pointed at Darkness again. "He and his Order have made sure that we no longer exist outside our borders; we are on the edge of human consciousness, bit-parts in their stories, mere caricatures of our former glory. The Shadow Slayers have done this."

Fenris locked eyes with Darkness.

"The Slayers have persecuted us for years, fencing us into these secluded nooks of the countryside. My father would have you believe that this is part of some grand plan. Some great destiny that will end with our victory; with The Wolftime. He is wrong. We are a fringe people, a forgotten race, our destiny does not lie with men who have turned us into myth, into stories to frighten their mewling whelps. Why do we train our warriors to hunt man, when man no longer fears us? Why do we forge weapons for a war that will never come? The lifetime of our people has been spent waiting, scratching a living in the name of the Old Ways that tell us to hide and prepare for ambush. I ask you now to look to those like my brother, who seek to improve our lives so that we can live and be a people on our own merits. Forget men; our destiny does not lie with them, and it never has.

"This Shadow Slayer brings the hatred of mankind for us with him. He is an outsider, a symbol of our oppression that we freely accept by your interpretation of the Old Ways. I have been pursued across the continent by this one's underlings. They would see me dead before I could tell you this, because they, having driven us into the shadows, would now destroy us utterly. They are not content with having us forgotten: for them, nothing short of our extermination is acceptable."

"He's lying," Darkness murmured to Regin.

"No he's not," Regin tapped his snout-like nose, "we can all tell."

Darkness watched as Fenris continued to attack him and spread distrust.

"This man is dangerous, and a member of my own family has taken him in," Fenris shook his head in disbelief, "and now he brings this Slayer to our Council. A Council in which his presence was neither asked for, nor required."

Regin stepped forward. "I have a Voice while Otr is ill. It is you who should not be here, brother."

Fenris stepped sideways and allowed Regin to see the old and frail figure who sat behind him, leant against one of the standing stones.

"He looks well enough to me." Fenris's predatory grin covered his face, "And I have permission to be here, brother."

"Well I want to say something," Regin said, stepping forward again so he stood near the fire.

Fenris looked at the Elders who all slowly shook their heads. "I'm afraid, brother, that you're out of luck."

Regin slumped his shoulders and stepped back.

"I wish to Speak," Darkness said, his deep voice carrying in the hot, still air.

Regin leant down. "What are you doing?" he whispered.

"I wish to defend myself; to explain why I came."

Fenris grinned. "Like they'd..."

"Let him speak." The gravely voice interrupted Fenris and the huge werewolf looked in surprise at Magnus.

"I am not a Shadow Slayer," Darkness said, "I was, but no longer. I had a family who were taken from me. I have come to ask for your help. There is a war coming - perhaps your Wolftime - and the Abyss, its instigators, will destroy everything, even your hidden village.

"Fenris would have you hide behind your Waystones, not to prepare for this war as Magnus wishes - even if he does not imagine how close it is - but to forget that the outside world exists. Well that road will lead you only to death. Your Waystones cannot hold this shadow at bay forever; it is stronger than your magic, it is stronger maybe than life itself. It is the hunger; the gathering dark that exists only to consume."

He surveyed the Elders. "The Shadow Slayers are not the only one who might come here. The Abyss have their own pieces to move..."

"Who could come within our borders," Magnus interrupted again, one huge hand stroking his bearded chin. He had spent his adult life arguing for belief in the Old Ways, in preparing for The Wolftime that the prophecies promised. It took little to convince him that danger was imminent.

"Maybe Fenris could tell you about that," Darkness continued, "who better for the Abyss to send that one who would go unnoticed?"

"No werewolf has been known to fight beside creatures of the Abyss before," Fenris growled, "be careful what you accuse me of..."

Darkness raised an eyebrow and looked at Regin, who just shrugged.

"Yes they have."

The voice was small and female and came from the edge of the circle. Revenant stepped into the firelight and the Council let out a collective noise of shock and disgust.

"What is that?" Magnus demanded, "Did you bring this creature to the Council too, Regin?"

"No," another female voice spoke up as Freya stepped up beside Revenant, "I brought her."

The Elders turned on Magnus. "Your daughter needs to be controlled, Magnus. Never has our Council been so overrun by outsiders and malcontents." The speaker was the head of the Council.

"Let the child speak," Regin said, gesturing to Revenant.

The Council rounded on her and Freya pushed her forward.

"There was someone else...another werewolf...with the...the Abyss..."

"Who?" the aged leader leant forward from his perch on a roughly-hewn stone seat.

"Bronson. He had one of those little necklaces that let him keep his clothes when he...changed... He was with Skaar."

The chief breathed deeply. "He was with...Skaar...?"

"He...uh...he wasn't...not with Skaar. He tricked the Old Wolf."

"Old Wolf?" Regin looked stunned as he turned to Revenant, "You met the Old Wolf?"

There were murmurs from the Council members. Revenant looked at Darkness who gave her an encouraging smile.

Fenris looked flustered and his mouth opened and closed a few times.

The leader of the Council looked at Magnus. "The rot appears to run deep in your Clan, Magnus. You give us the first Infiltrators we have seen in generations, a reminder of the prophecies you are so fond of, one of whom consorts with our old enemies, the Shadow Slayers, and the other who, we now hear, stands with Skaar; a name I prayed I would never again hear in my lifetime."

He turned to Fenris. "This child, vampire to the eyes, human to the nose, accuses your brother of much. Do you refute your claim of werewolves siding with creatures of the Abyss?"

Fenris's eyes went wide. "Of course..." he murmured.

The eyes of every werewolf present went wide.

"Ah, now that was a lie," Regin told Darkness.

"I know," the former Slayer smiled ruefully.

"Do you serve the Abyss, Fenris?" Magnus asked, a look of horror on his face.

"I...no...I..."

The Council recoiled, Magnus looked stunned. Fenris turned his head this way and that before he reached inside his gruesomely decorated robes and produced a jagged stone dagger.

"Enough with formality," he growled, "none of you survive to see sunrise..."

Around the firelight, Freya saw dark shadows closing in on them.

Freya spun around, sliding the baldric off as she moved. "Here!" she tossed it to Darkness and he caught it deftly, whirling it over his shoulder and securing it with his good hand in one swift moment.

"Want your guns too?"

"It would be helpful."

She unfastened the belt and threw that too before turning to Revenant who was looking around uneasily.

"Might be a good time to use those fancy wristbands of yours," she suggested as she produced the pair of large knives.

"But...aren't these people your family...?"

"Hey, I'm not going to have a vampire question my morality. Get your blades out and start earning your keep."

Across the clearing, Fenris advanced, knife in hand. He waved it back and forth, narrowing his eyes at his enemies. Regin crouched low, his huge hands raised and a low growl emanating from his throat.

"Fenris," Darkness called, "you want to avoid brining war to your people - stand down now. I don't want to hurt you."

"Like you didn't want to hurt me in Athens? Like your little friends who've been chasing me didn't want to hurt me?" From the dark trees surrounding him, his henchmen began to emerge, wielding various flint-tipped weapons. One of them handed Fenris an immense battleaxe, which he hefted over one shoulder.

Freya frowned. "Why couldn't I smell them?" she asked to no one in particular.

"They're blind to my Slayer Sense too," Darkness murmured.

One of the werewolves laughed and held out something from his neck. In addition to the wooden talisman, something else hung there - a crystalline amulet of some description.

"Obviously it pays to hang with the Abyss," Regin growled, "what else have you got up your sleeve, Fenris?"

Magnus looked from one of his sons to the other, unsure of what to do. As Fenris and his gang moved towards him, Darkness acted fast. "Magnus, get the Elders out of here. Go to the village and tell everyone what's happened. Your people may yet have to defend themselves if we fail here."

The older werewolf stared at Darkness but then nodded. He herded the Elders past Darkness, Freya, Rev and Regin and disappeared into the night.

"I hoped it wouldn't come to this," Fenris smiled.

"No you didn't," Freya snarled, "I can smell it."

"What was your plan, Fenris?" Darkness asked, the fingers of his good hand resting on one of his pistols. "Were you planning to lull your people into a false sense of security and then bring the hordes of the Abyss down on them?"

Fenris's bestial face hardened. "You do me a disservice, Shadow Slayer. I serve the Abyss, but I'm just a mercenary as far as they're concerned. I fight and kill where I'm told, nothing more."

"So why try to make us withdraw even more?" Regin asked.

"Because if you enter this war like this Slayer wishes you to, you'll be destroyed..."

Regin straightened slightly. "So...you really do care about the community...?"

"Bullshit!" Freya yelled, "You were just scared that dad would see who you've thrown your lot in with! Don't give us this ‘community' crap - the only thing you care about is your own skin."

Darkness nodded. "You knew that no matter what you might say, a werewolf like your father would never side with vampires and the like. This was all about keeping your activities secret, wasn't it?"

Fenris bared his teeth. "I don't have to answer to any of you."

"So you'll just kill us?" Freya asked, "How does that help you?"

"What happens here tonight will be a warning to our people about the dangers of allowing outsiders to interfere in our business. They'll forget what was said, and all they'll remember is the death of Regin the farmer, who was a good man."

"I think not," Darkness said.

He crossed his arms and moved to draw his pistols. He'd done it a thousand times, unleashing the power of the Eyes of God on his enemies. His right hand clasped the handle of one gun and he drew it smoothly from its holster, but his prosthetic left hand fumbled, and the gun tumbled from his grip. Surprised, Darkness lost his footing and fell backwards, landing heavily in a seated position on the dry grass.

Fenris roared with laughter. "Someone appears to have beaten me to obtaining a trophy from you, Shadow Slayer," he smirked, gesturing to the crudely hacked-off hands and forearms that decorated his clothing, "but you have one hand to spare still I suppose."

At that moment, the werewolves charged, bounding over the overgrown stones in the clearing, and swinging their axes and swords with a howl. Some of them transformed in mid-air, their old instincts reasserting themselves as they entered the fray.

Regin and his guests were outnumbered three-to-one, but they were undeterred. While Darkness still sat on the ground, blinking stupidly at his own inability to use his weapons, Freya whirled her knives in her fists and slashed at the wolf that bore down on her.

Revenant leapt up into the air, adhering like glue to the surface of a standing stone that towered over everyone in the clearing. Her sickle-like blades flashed open and enclosed her pale fists as she bared her fangs to the confused werewolves below her. With a piercing scream she descended on them, carving into their flesh with her blades and spinning round with a high kick that sent one of her much larger attackers spinning away head over heels.

Regin met the impact of a charging werewolf, slamming into him with his immense body. For a moment the two were locked in a struggle, huge muscles bunching as they pushed, but his assailant soon gained the advantage, burying a fist in Regin's gut and knocking him backwards with the haft of his axe. Regin stumbled back, one hand clutched to his nose as blood trickled down his face. The werewolf snarled and swung with his axe.

Regin dodged an instant too late and let out a howl of pain as the axe buried itself into his side, dropping him to his knees. His attacker freed his weapon and raised it again.

For a moment the tableaux was frozen. Fenris was hanging back still, waiting for his moment to strike. Freya was backed up against a stone, trying to hold off two enemies with her knives. Revenant fought on, now surrounded by four werewolves who constantly shifted form to take advantage of her inexperience and holes in her defence. Regin was on his knees, staring up in horror at the jagged edge of the flint axe that reflected the flickering light of the fire.

Darkness stared at the scene, watching as everything seemed to slow. He saw the pain in Regin's eyes, the fear, and knew that it wasn't for himself that the big werewolf was terrified. In that instant, Darkness saw the farmer's whole life: his peaceful existence tending his crops, his attempts to help his people survive, his huge, matronly wife. He saw the faces of the Little Ones, grubby and boisterous, but still innocent and untouched by pain or suffering. He saw Borr reaching for the butter and his satisfied, greasy smile. He saw little Eir, twining her chubby fingers around her daddy's hair.

A family without a father. A father without a family.

Darkness saw what had made Regin come with them and what made him fight now and his soul beat in resonance with Regin's for just an instant of crystal clarity.

The former Slayer surged to his feet with a roar. As he rose, his good hand fastened on the hilt of his sword and he drew it in a wide arc, spinning it into his fist. He lunged at the exposed abdomen of Regin's attacker and, with a snarl, drove the blade through his stomach, up high into his torso, severing the monster's spine and slaying him instantly.

The werewolf slumped to the ground as Darkness freed his weapon. A shadow seemed to play at the edges of his vision and, for just a moment, Darkness remembered the dream he'd had the night before. He shook his head, clearing his mind as he turned and surveyed the battle.

Freya was fighting ever more desperately now and Darkness moved to help her, but then noticed Regin at his feet. His host was bleeding heavily and he propped himself up against one of the standing stones.

"Go...help my sister..."

"I won't leave you. She can look after herself."

Revenant pushed herself off the stone nearest her, vaulting over the heads of her attackers. One of them turned and lunged for her, but she wrapped an arm around his thick neck and plunged her fangs into his flesh. The werewolf screamed in horror and pain as he was driven to his knees. His blood pulsed out in huge, dark waves as Revenant ripped her face from the open wound and unleashed a cry of exultation.

The other werewolves backed off as their companion dropped to the floor, clearly dead.

"I really needed that," Revenant said, wiping the dark blood from her face, "you guys taste a little odd, but I think I could get to like you."

Freya ducked an axe swipe and, moving quicker than her assailant, chopped at his limb, burying one of her knives deep in muscle. The werewolf yelped, but she pushed down, carving right through his arm and lopping the appendage off entirely.

"Enough of this," Fenris bellowed, "You're stronger than I expected."

He raised his arms and, from the trees behind him, two immense shapes came crashing into the clearing. Revenant opened her mouth as the beasts shook themselves down and pawed at the ground in impatience.

"What the fuck are those?!"

The creatures resembled immense dogs with short, smooth fur and thick, stocky limbs and low, heavy bodies. Strangest of all however was that each of them had not one head, but two, each that of a slavering canine, baring huge teeth at them.

"They're Cerberons," Darkness answered, "the descendants of Cerberus, the multi-headed guardian of Hell."

"How did he get them?" Revenant asked.

Darkness shrugged. "Evidently he has contacts..."

Fenris laughed as he raised his arms and the Cerberons charged, leaping across the clearing in a single bound to pounce on Darkness and Revenant.

Darkness was bowled over instantly as the monster landed on him. Huge paws pinned his shoulders down to the floor as two massive heads snarled at him. The monster's gaping maws opened in unison, two mouths full of jagged teeth pulled wide to take a chunk out of him.

"Jesus, do I have to do everything myself..." Freya kicked one of her attackers away and then jumped up the standing stone behind her, resting on her haunches on a foothold before leaping off with a grunt of exertion. She landed on the Cerberon's back, causing it to release its grip on Darkness and buck and heave at the unfamiliar weight on its back. Freya whirled her knives in her hands and then plunged them downwards, driving them into the spine of the monstrous dog. The beast roared, its two heads causing it to harmonise oddly before it fell down into a thrashing heap, throwing Freya clear.

Darkness rolled up to his feet and saw Revenant halfway up a standing stone, the other Cerberon gnashing at her. The monster backed up and then rose onto his hind legs awkwardly before throwing itself forward against the stone. Revenant yelped and scuttled up to the top of the stone out of its reach, but it began to claw at the surface of the rock, flattening itself against the monolith to reach higher.

Darkness reached for the pistol that he could fire and pulled the trigger, aiming at the Cerberon's hindquarters. The beast snarled as the bullet bit into it and pushed itself off from the stone, nearly falling over, but then regaining its equilibrium and landing on all fours with a crash that shook the ground.

He aimed again, shooting it in one of its heads, sending it back with a bark. The injured head shook itself, spraying the other with blood and gore, which caused it to nip and snarl at its wounded companion. Darkness watched as the two heads seemed to argue, falling into bickering not unlike the scrapping of Regin's Little Ones.

"If you want a job done, you have to do it yourself," someone said behind Darkness. He gasped as an enormous arm encircled his throat. He felt the flint knife press against his flesh.

Freya continued to fight with Fenris's henchmen, Regin now appeared to be unconscious and Revenant was stalking the Cerberon that was bickering with itself.

Fenris's grip tightened. "I knew you were bad news in Athens," he whispered, his hot, carrion breath thick in Darkness's ear, "I should have killed you then..."

Darkness clawed at Fenris's arm for a moment before he suddenly relaxed.

"You didn't... kill me then... though," he gasped between laboured breaths, "and you won't...kill me...now..."

Darkness fastened his hands, including the mechanical prosthetic, around Fenris's arm before pulling himself down to one knee and then lifting with his back, throwing Fenris over his head and down heavily to the ground. His false hand retained its grip on Fenris's forearm and he quickly wrapped it across the werewolf's throat as he sat down on his chest.

"Not only am I a Shadow Slayer and a martial artist," Darkness grinned, "but I'm also a pro. wrestler. I beat up guys your size every week."

Fenris gaped at Darkness as the blade of his sword was pressed against his throat. "Now," he said in a low voice, "last time we talked, you mentioned my daughter. Why don't you tell me about that?"

"I don't know anything," Fenris snapped, "I told you; I'm just a mercenary."

"He's telling the truth," Freya said as she approached. Her knives dripped with dark blood. Across the clearing, the surviving werewolves slunk into the shadows when they saw their leader was down. The Cerberon finally succumbed to the jabs from Revenant's blades and collapsed into a blood-sodden heap.

"Then tell me who does know something!"

Fenris pulled his head up, trying to keep his throat from the razor-sharp edge of Darkness's sword. "Only Seth," he said between gritted teeth, "I was told he was the only one who had anything to do with it. You won't get answers from anyone else."

Darkness looked at Freya who nodded, confirming the truth of his words.

"Alright." Darkness stood up, releasing Fenris and causing the dark werewolf to stare at him in shock.

Freya stared at Darkness too. "You're letting him live?"

"There's been enough killing here tonight," Darkness said, looking around at the bodies that littered the clearing and remembering the instant in which he had driven the sword through the werewolf's gut and the shadow that, for just a moment, had seemed about to reclaim him.

He placed the tip of his sword at Fenris's throat. "Leave this place. Never return. Your people will be told the truth; about you, and about their Wolftime. You wanted to keep them out of this war for your own good. Well that won't happen - you'll be living with the consequences of your actions from now on. I hope, for your sake, that your people will be as merciful as me when they find out which side you've picked."

Freya laughed slightly. "Not likely..."

Fenris climbed to his feet slowly. The point of Darkness's sword followed him as he circled around. The traitor werewolf regarded the former Slayer with hateful eyes as he reached the body of the henchman Darkness had killed. Quickly, he reached to his throat and pulled off the wooden talisman and the crystalline amulet. He moved to place both around his neck.

"I don't think so," Darkness said, "keep the wooden thing, but I'll have the crystal."

Fenris growled in annoyance but yanked the pinkish stone from the thong and threw it to the ground. He secured the remaining talisman around his neck and then walked towards the edge of the clearing.

"Remember what I said, Fenris," Darkness told him, "don't come back here. Your lies won't find any fertile soil in which to grow any longer."

Fenris's lips twisted but he nodded and then turned away, changing into his wolf form and running off into the woods.

"Well that's that," Freya said, looking down at her knives. She wiped them on the grass and then shoved them in her belt before reaching down and picking up the crystal. Darkness recoiled from her as she held it. "What?" she asked.

"You're invisible to my Slayer Sense when you hold that," he explained.

"Heh...handy..." she looked at the crystal. "Any idea what this is then?"

He shrugged. "No idea. But next time I see Shadow I'm going to ask if he knows anything about it."

"You think this is what Infinity had in their rings then?"

"I'd be willing to bet money on it, yes."

Darkness wiped off his own weapon and sheathed it over his shoulder before approaching Regin. He bowed his head as he crouched down next to their host.

"I think it's too late," he said softly, looking at the dark blood that stained the grass around the werewolf. He bowed his head and placed a hand on Regin's shoulder.

"I'm a farmer, not a child," Regin growled at Darkness, who fell back stunned, landing in a seated position on the grass again.

Regin pushed himself up and took his hand away from the wound on his side, which was noticeably smaller than it had been when Darkness saw it inflicted. "I'm a werewolf, remember?"

Darkness smiled. "Thank God. I really wasn't looking forward to explaining to Bevan that I was sitting there on my arse while you were being killed..."

* * *

It was getting close to dawn as they approached the village. Darkness and Freya supported Regin as they walked, making their way slowly through the forest. Revenant followed behind, narrowing her eyes at the brightening sky.

When they entered the wide square of the small settlement, they found the inhabitants waiting for them, headed up by Magnus.

"What happened?" the old werewolf asked.

"Fenris is gone," Darkness told him, "and he won't be back. Not if he knows what's good for him."

Magnus nodded sagely and stepped back, allowing Regin to be seated on the edge of the well. Some of the werewolf women rushed forward to tend to his wound.

"I need to speak to all of you," Darkness said, "I think I've earned that."

Magnus looked around at the assembled throng, waiting to see if anyone objected, but no voice was raised. "Very well," he said.

Darkness took a step forward and ran a hand through his now-tangled black hair. He looked at the little werewolf community arrayed before him, huge men like Regin and rotund women like Bevan, scattered with a few smaller, younger werewolves who had more human proportions. Children pushed their way through their parents' legs, staring up at him with big, luminous eyes. They were farmers, thatchers, smiths, coopers, bakers, builders, weavers. They were not soldiers.

"I came here," he began, "in hopes of raising an army. I declared myself Lucifer's Champion and I intended to build a force of all his creatures to fight beside me in the coming war. What I didn't expect to find was families, children, wives and husbands. I didn't expect to find a town with a living community of people just like those in the outside world. I expected monsters, but what I got was humanity in its purest form."

The werewolves shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what this stranger was getting at.

"Freya, a daughter of your own village, didn't wish me to come here. Like Regin she believed that you have no place in this war. She was right. You have no more place in battle than any other innocent person. I can't ask you to fight at my side."

He stepped back, but Freya caught his arm. "That's it? That's your speech?"

"You were right," he repeated, "I shouldn't have come here."

"Yeah, but if you hadn't, Fenris would have carried on. You just fought and killed to save them from what you're now telling them to do."

"But I can't ask them to..."

"No," Freya interrupted, "you can ask them. What you can't do is force them. I don't want war coming here - we stopped that, for now - but if they want to leave and enter the war of their own accord, that's up to them. That's what I did, after all."

Darkness smiled and nodded. He placed his hand on hers. "Thank you," he told her, "this has been like some strange holiday. I don't think things will be the same as they were here when we go back."

"No," she agreed with a sad smile, "they won't."

Darkness turned back to the crowd.

"I cannot make you part of my war," he announced, "but I can let you make an informed choice like Freya has. Magnus of Clan Gar'leth has been correct all this time. The Wolftime is coming. Indeed, it may already be upon us. Outside your borders, Shadow Slayers, demons, angels and, yes, werewolves, stand together against a far more terrible threat than each of them present to the others. Death is coming. The Abyss is rising, its power preparing to encroach on our universe and overwhelm us. We fight not for good or evil, but for simple survival. I am the Nightwalker, Lucifer's Champion, Lord of Hades, Commander of the Legio Incubi. My banner is the one around which the combined forces of Light and Dark must rally if we are to survive this onslaught. I do not beg you to fight with me, I only tell you the truth. If you wish it, I will be waiting for you on the outside, ready to lead you. This is not your war, but it can be if you wish it. If you value life and freedom, it can be your Wolftime."

The sun broke over the trees, filling the square with syrupy golden light as Darkness drew his sword. His weapon gleamed, brazen in the sunrise as he held it before him.

The werewolves regarded him with silence until, from their ranks, a young man emerged, walking gingerly towards Darkness. His hair was a long as everyone else's they had met here, but only a handful of charms hung in his thick locks. He was almost as tall as Regin, but leaner.

"I will stand with you, Nightwalker," he said in a wavering voice.

"So will I." Another young werewolf walked from the crowd.

"And me!" this voice was female, and she pushed past a man that was evidently her father, escaping from his grip.

Regin glanced at Darkness, but it was Freya who spoke for him. "I fought by his side tonight too," she said, "I saved his life. It's time to forget the Old Ways. The Wolftime is here - you don't have to hide anymore. And you don't have to treat us women like second class citizens."

She looked meaningfully at Regin and the big werewolf coloured under her scrutiny.

"She's right," Darkness said, "Freya is one of the finest warriors I know, and she is the smallest and weakest of you. You called her ‘runt', but she has defeated men twice her size in combat and just this night slew a beast much larger even than that. Any of you may join my army - male or female. I ask only that you have the will to fight, no other conditions are placed upon you."

More young werewolves, of both sexes, left the crowd and stood beside Darkness, Freya and Revenant.

Magnus shook his head. "Will you take our sons and daughters from us then, Shadow Slayer?"

Darkness hefted his sword. "At least when they stand with me, they have a fighting chance. If the forces of the Abyss come here - and they will unless we stop them - you'll all die."

Magnus nodded. "Then go. Look after our children."

"I'll protect them as if they were my own," Darkness said solemnly, locking eyes with Regin who gave him a slow nod and the ghost of a smile.

The day had been spent clearing the stone circle, the carcasses of the Cerberons had been burnt, the werewolves taken to near the edge of the forest to be buried.

The women of the community had spent the day, as usual, cooking. A pig had been killed and roasted, not in celebration, but more like memorial for those who had died, and for those who would leave. There was a sense not just of grief, but also of impending sorrow in the preparations.

The three outsiders had been ordered to bed, but only Revenant had gone. Darkness had helped the men in clearing the mess he'd helped make. Freya had disappeared for the day; getting a dozen or so werewolves to the other side of the world took some organising and her cell phone didn't work in the village.

As the afternoon had worn on, a bonfire had been built in the square. Logs, or more precisely, trees, had been bought in for seating.

As the first stars appeared, families started to emerge. Casks appeared also, large earthenware mugs were filled and passed around. The community was split, the large matronly wives, some with young children, gathered together on one side, the men on the other, the grey-haired Elders in a small group of their own.

Darkness sat near the roots of one of the logs, looking up at the stars. There were more visible here than in a town or city; less light pollution. He felt like he hadn't seen them in a long time.

"Here." Regin brought his attention back to the world with a mug overflowing with foam.

"Thank you." Darkness noticed his mug was smaller than his host's, but as a vessel that size would have been awkward for him to hold, he understood the reason.

"You look tired," the werewolf said, "are you sure you wouldn't rather rest?"

"No, I'm..." Darkness was going to say ‘fine', but the look on Regin's face reminded him that there was no place for lies, even the little ones, in werewolf society. "I'd rather stay here," he said instead.

"Then come join us." Regin lead the way to a group of large males, none quite as tall as himself. They were quiet for a minute, still distrustful of one who bored the markings of a Shadow Slayer; some changes would take longer than others. They were soon talking over him, all standing head and shoulders taller than him at least. Darkness looked around and saw that most of the village were here now as the twilight closed in.

He could see Freya now, surrounded by some of the younger women. They could have been her age but it was difficult to tell; they were all on their way to looking like every other wife in the village.

Revenant was out now too, sitting on a log alone, watching some of the young werewolves that would be leaving with them in the morning. One of the boys spotted her and made room in the circle. Revenant smiled and made her way from her perch into the vacant space.

**

The embers were low now, the half moon high and illuminating the square. Bats crossed the empty air above Darkness who was on his own again after the men had gone to sit with their families.

"You look lonely." Freya sat down next to Darkness.

"Not at all, I..." He couldn't describe it; he was on his own but there were people around. He wasn't excluded from them, instead he felt like he belonged.

"I know what you mean," Freya said in response to his wordless reply.

Darkness looked at her and noticed her hair was now in braids like the other werewolves. There was even a small, curved ornament woven in.

"What?" She'd seen him looking.

"Your hair. It suits you."

Freya played with one of the braids. "My mother caught me earlier and did them."

Darkness sipped from his large mug. He found a small object dangling by his face.

"What's this?" he reached over awkwardly with his good hand. It was small, intricately carved wolf. Its eyes looked like they were lit from within.

"Did you make this?" he asked.

"I don't like you that much." She took the small wolf back. "You'll need to sit on the floor."

Darkness shifted. "Where did it come from then?" He felt Freya's fingers move through his hair.

"Can you see the old lady over the other side of the fire?"

Darkness glanced over, not meaning to be caught looking, but he met the woman's gaze. "The one with the stick?"

"She's known as The Morrigan."

"The Irish Goddess?"

"She's not, it was just a nickname, but she's been around so long it's all we know her as. She's the one you go for when people are born or when they die. You don't get married without her blessing."

"I thought the Elders were the ones in charge..."

"They are," Freya said simply.

They sat in silence for a moment.

"I'm sorry I said you shouldn't have come here," Freya said.

"An apology from you? Is it the ale talking?" Darkness teased her.

"Hey," Freya pulled one of the half-formed braids in Darkness's hair gently, "I'm serious. If you hadn't have come Fenris could have done anything. And I've not had that much to drink, thank you very much."

"I should have listened to you."

Freya made a noise in agreement but didn't say anything. She finished Darkness's hair.

"There. Now you look like one of us. Well, sort of..."

Darkness thanked her but stayed on the ground.

"What will happen at Endgame?" she asked.

Darkness shrugged. "Dante isn't what he should be. He has become distracted. He will bend back, or he will break."

"If you ever needed help, you could have asked me. Dante isn't the only one who could help."

"How do you mean?"

"What tattoo did I get when I joined the NHFC?"

Darkness thought for a moment. "The black queen."

"Exactly. I'm yours. I picked a team, I even picked a side in that team. Your side."

"I've always helped Dante," Darkness said, "but he wasn't there for me."

"Did you ask?"

"I shouldn't have needed to."

"Maybe you did. You're Darkness the Invincible. We can never imagine you needing help."

"Are you asking me not to hurt him?"

"No," she said, "I'm asking you not to kill him." With that Freya got up and left Darkness sitting on the damp earth.

He reached his good hand over his shoulder and pulled lightly at the comforting weight he could now feel in his hair. Craning his neck, he met the moonstone eyes of the wolf talisman that now hung in a thick braid. He looked up to The Morrigan, intending to nod his thanks to her, but when he looked for her, she was gone.

**

The sun was well up when the crowd left the square the next day. The families of those leaving walked to the path that would take their children to the world outside.

There were tears from the mothers, solemn handshakes from the fathers.

Regin laid a massive hand on Darkness's shoulder. "Look after them."

"I will. Take care of your Little Ones."

"I hope you find yours," Regin replied empathetically.

"So do I," Darkness said softly.

The group left, picking their way through the trees. The sun shone down on the massive waystones as the neared the edge. The werewolf adolescents paused at the border of their lands.

Freya crossed over. "Come on, children," she told them.

She watched them pass her, all looking uneasy as they left the safety of their homeland and entered an unknown world.

Darkness stopped next to her. He frowned.

"You okay?" Freya asked him.

"It doesn't seem so bright out here."

Freya shrugged. "It's like coming home from a holiday, I suppose. The real world is just a little bit greyer in comparison." She smiled reassuringly and then hurried after the young werewolves, leading them down the lane to civilisation.

Darkness hung back for a moment. He placed one hand on the waystone next to him and, for a moment, the sun seemed to break through the clouds again, even though nothing in the sky changed. He took his hand away and watched as the colours faded from the landscape.

He looked up at the sky through squinted eyes, seeing storm clouds that weren't there before following the others.