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Fenrir almost laughed—probably would have if everything weren’t buzzing so loudly. Relief, is that what he felt? Soul-crushing relief. Because elven hunters hadn’t taken Orpheus—humans had. And humans were something he could deal with. Humans he knew how to kill.

“Did you see any weapons?” he asked, breathless.

Astrid shook her head. “I don’t think so…”

“Did you see them leave the woods?”

Roland shook his head. “No. The explosion went off while we were waiting. Then we had to run.”

“I saw them,” Astrid whispered. “Roland and I got separated, I didn’t know where to go so I ran back towards the woods towards Mr. Fifi…then there were soldiers, but…they were lying on the ground, covered in blood, not moving—”

“Astrid,” Vera cut in, but Astrid didn’t stop.

“—and then the scarred man was there, and I hid so he wouldn’t see me, but Mr. Fifi…the big man had him, all tied up. And then they took him away.”

Despite what their prisoner refused to say, this was confirmation. If they intended to kill Orpheus, they would have done it then and there.

“Which direction?” Fenrir asked, not actually expecting an answer.

But Astrid swallowed and said, “Towards the sunrise.”

East, towards the chasm. Just as he suspected.

“Was there anything else?” Fenrir asked gently despite the hammering inside his chest. Beside the bed, Roland shook his head, mouth turned down, face gray. Against him, Astrid buried her face in his shirt, sniffling.

“Thank you,” Fenrir said, hand leaving Astrid’s hair to fist atop his thigh, so no one saw it shake. “Thank you both, you have no idea how helpful you’ve been.”

“Will you get Mr. Fifi back?” Astrid said quietly, voice muffled by his shirt.

“You can count on it, Astrid, Rawkners don’t leave family behind.”

At the sideboard, Vera stared down at the cocoa, palms flat to the surface while her head hung over the steam. Fenrir wondered if she was thinking of him and the mine she’d sold him to, or the pouch of coins she’d accepted in exchange for his chains. Whether sending him away was as hard as being left behind, or if the impossibility of her choice had numbed her to the pain, as he’d always assumed—always hoped.

And as he watched his mother stitch herself back together, straightening into her full height to take the mugs in hand and turn to meet his eyes, face masked of all emotion besides strength, Fenrir wondered if he’d ever truly know.

Interlude

Sisters

Fenrir only realizes he has another sister on the way the day Mum wakes him up retching.

“Mum?” Fenrir asks, rubbing sleep from his eyes while his mum crouches over a bucket, spit dripping from her chin.

“Go back to sleep, Fenrir.”

He doesn’t feel tired anymore, and besides, he’ll need to get started on chores early if Mum is sick and can’t tend the fields. Alina will be wanting breakfast soon, and with Dad in town for the next few days it’s up to him to take care of everyone while he’s away.

He drapes a blanket over his mum’s shoulders while she continues to retch, then gets started. Alina comes first and then the animals, followed by weeding the fields and then he cooks some eggs with day old bread for lunch. Then it’s back to the fields and by the time evening mealtime arrives, Fenrir is exhausted. He’s got the animals all watered and fed and stares at what’s left in their cupboard for supper.

It’s a routine he’ll repeat in the coming months. Mum’s belly grows bigger until suddenly, one day, it’s not a bucket she’s crouched over, but a pool of blood.

“Mum?” Fenrir asks, feeling small while thinking of Otis.

Dad shoves Alina into his arms and ushers him through the barn door.

“Go for a walk, okay? I’ll help Mum.”

Fenrir walks for a long time, Alina on a hip digging through his hair, her once tiny hands those of a toddler now. She says his name like it’s a chant, then wiggles free to go crawl-walk through the corn field, and for a few minutes, Fenrir simply watches her. He wonders if there’s snakes in the field or maybe a fox and then he thinks about the coyote that’s been coming around all week, the one with the wild eyes and foamy mouth, and something strange and uncomfortable hammers into his heart.