Wednesday, October 1. Grove. 

Lusa woke me sometime after midnight. I stumbled around, still half asleep. It took a moment to remember why I was sleeping in a tent instead of my own bed.

“Lemme make some coffee first,” I mumbled.

Lusa nodded, then turned her head away.

Had I upset her? It wasn’t like coffee would take that long. And I really wanted the comfort of something warm more than the caffeine.

Her shoulders lifted and I realized with a start she was yawning.

And hadn’t wanted me to see. 

Why was it such a big deal she tired? Needed food?

I chuckled, knowing she’d feel my amusement.

She ignored me.

I fought a smile and busied myself with coffee.

Wind blew through the trees, bringing down a fresh shower of leaves. I tilted my head back, looking skyward. The moon was just high enough to shed a soft light. The sky was clear, not a cloud visible. And stars.

I couldn’t help but stare. Didn’t remember the last time I’d seen so many.

The percolator gurgled. I filled my tumbler, then took the anchor from Lusa. 

“I feel—“ she began, but then seemed to change her mind. 

“It is nothing,” she said, but something I couldn’t name brushed the bond.

“Tell me,” I insisted. 

“I feel—coated? Like a creek bank after heavy rain.”

It took me a minute to puzzle out what she was trying to say.

“Dirty?” 

How many days had she been out here? Since Saturday? And I’d been stopping by my place to clean up every day.

She grimaced. “That makes it sound like there is something wrong with soil.”

“It’s just an expression. A shower will fix that. I don’t know if the park has showers. I can take you to my place—“

“I cannot leave.”

“At all?”

She nodded.

“Well, that complicates things. I’ll do some research tomorrow. See what I can come up with.”

Weren’t there people who did things like backpack for days on end? They had to have a solution, right? Surely they didn’t just walk around gross the whole time. 

Or maybe they did. Maybe hikers just smelled terrible and nobody talked about it. 

Lusa seemed to regard the matter closed.

“Good night, Nathaniel.” 

She took off her boots and crawled into the tent.

“Good night.”

She was asleep quickly.

I closed my eyes, searching for our guards.

Scar was somewhere to my right. Khan was off to the left. 

Neither moved.

Picked up my tumbler, savoring the warmth. I should’ve thought about the shower problem sooner. I’d bought Lusa toothpaste, for crying out loud. 

Too much new in my head. I was missing stuff.

And I didn’t like it.

I needed to write this stuff down. Get it out of my head.

I pulled out my phone. Opened a note app.

Lusa might sniff at my dependence on my phone, but I was only human and these days I was juggling a lot.

I stared at the blank page for a moment.

What should go in here?

Scar stirred somewhere to my right. Not physically. More...a ripple in whatever sense let me keep track of him. 

The hollows I’d encountered, for starters.

Supplies Lusa needed. 

The rituals we’d done.

Whoever came after me shouldn’t walk into this blind like I had. 

What should I call it? Warden’s Field Guide? 

Smacked too much of role playing for my taste.

Field Notes?

That could be anything, right? Birdwatching or whatever.

Was I seriously doing this?

The cursor blinked impatiently. 

Screw it.

Typed: Field Notes.

The watch passed quietly. Coffee disappeared. My notes grew. Clouds rolled in. 

I woke Lusa a little after five. She blinked a few times then sat up.

“I’ve got to head to work early,” I said.

“Better to wait until the sun rises.”

“Can’t.”

I didn’t bother going into all the reasons why. But if I didn’t leave soon, it wouldn’t be long before I was even more behind and would go from hot water to serious trouble.

“I’ll be fine,” I murmured, not looking at our guards. I’d take Lusa’s stick, but if anything jumped me I would shoot first. Forget questions.

She didn’t look convinced.

“Coffee?” I asked. 

Lusa brightened at the word. She’d been hesitant about coffee at first, but it had clearly grown on her.

She changed—closing the tent this time—then took the stone from me. 

I eyed her bare feet.

“Rain,” she said by way of explanation.

Looked like we were in for more today.

“Hope I get to the car before it hits.”

She glanced skyward. “It will be close.”

“No time to waste then.”

I brewed a full batch. My own tumbler needed refreshing.

I wasn’t tired despite the lack of sleep. The anchor had seen to that. And my injuries were healing faster than they should’ve been. But I was still sore. My arm throbbed.

Once I’d made sure Lusa had everything she needed while I was gone—and reminded her once more about her phone, including keeping it away from water—I set off for the car.

Carrying the staff left-handed felt awkward. But I was keeping my right free in case either of the kitties got ideas. 

I felt one rise and fall in behind—Khan this time, I was pretty sure.

But he stayed back, just following, never closing the distance.

Still, I was tense the whole way back.

I'd made the trip enough times now that I barely had to think about it. Especially once I hit the trail.

Only when I locked the doors and the engine rumbled to life did I finally feel like I could breathe again.

Rain was falling when I left my apartment—much harder than it had over the weekend. I might be headed toward soul-sucking cubicle land, but at least I didn’t have to sit out in the grove in this weather.

At least not yet.

I was one of the first in the office.

It was surprising how much I could get done when not fielding coworkers or annoying bosses. Others filtered in, the noise level gradually rising, bringing with them the scent of something warm and sickly-sweet.

It took me a moment to identify the smell. There must be donuts in the break room.

Had they always smelled that…off?

I dug out my earbuds and turned on some music.

Quick, buoyant piano filled my ears—light and optimistic in a way my life absolutely was not.

My chest felt tight. I ignored it.

No reason to read into it. I was stressed, in over my head, and trying not to breathe in the smell of forbidden pastry.

Of course some of my stress would bleed through. I must be worrying Lusa.

I forced myself to breathe. 

Lightning flashed through the bond and I hissed, doubling over.

Fear. 

Quickly muted.

Something was wrong.

I was on my feet, headed for the door.

Lusa. Was she in danger? Should I go check on her?

I blew past our receptionist, ignoring her confused good morning.

Slammed open the parking garage door, already digging out my keys.

My phone buzzed.

Right. I had bought Lusa a phone yesterday for this very reason. 

Fumbled out my phone. 

A text from Sarah. 

Ignored it and called Lusa.

The phone rang. She didn’t pick up. It went to voicemail…which I hadn’t bothered to set up.

I tried again. She picked up this time.

“Speak, I attend…no, you said…’Hi, Mom’?”

I snorted a laugh which I quickly turned into a cough. “Just say ‘Hi’ when you answer,” I said, keeping my voice low.

“Hi, Nathaniel? That is the correct greeting?”

“Sure, that will work.” I took a breath, willing the tension in my chest to ease. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if she was in trouble. But something in her voice—too flat, too controlled—made the fear return. 

“Are you okay? I felt—“ I trailed off, not knowing how to describe the sensation. 

“I am in the grove,” she said.

“The—“ I checked for any nearby coworkers. Coast looked clear. “The hollows aren’t bothering you? Is the circle holding up after the rain?”

“I have replenished the salt. And there are no hollows present. Just miasma.”

“Then what is wrong?”

Silence.

“Lusa?”

“It is nothing. Do not trouble yourself.”

“Whatever this nothing is, it is bleeding through the bond hard enough I can’t think. If I don’t get this work done, it will be late when I get—“ I caught myself before I said home. “I won’t return until late.”

Another pause. I was beginning to think she wouldn’t answer. 

Finally she said softly, “The corrupted…left a gift.”

“He was there? How? It’s daylight. You should be—”

“Corrupted can walk in the day when they choose. They are not bound the way lesser tainted are. But, I do not know when he left it. I did not sense him.”

“How do you know then that it was—“

“I know, Warden.”

Warden. Formal. Commanding. Final.

The bond drew taut…then went still, leaving an ache in my chest as thought something had been scooped out. 

She was worried. And was trying to hide it from me. 

I would catch a world of trouble for ducking out of work early, but I wasn’t about to leave Lusa to face whatever had rattled her alone.

“I’m on my way,” I said.

“No. Stay. Finish your work. I am not in danger. It was nothing but a message.”

“But—”

“Stay, Nathaniel.” 

The command echoed in my chest. I found my feet retracing the steps back to my desk on their own.

“Fine,” I ground out. “I’ll see you tonight.”

I hung up before she could respond. 

She’d done it again. Hadn’t given me a choice. Couldn’t she just trust me?

Stay. Finish work. Sure. 

I’d be out the door before five.

I’d finish work tonight. At the grove.

After I saw for myself that Lusa was okay.

I screeched to a halt in a cloud of gravel dust. The bond still felt empty, lifeless. I rubbed my chest, peeking beneath my shirt to reassure myself the tattoo was still there. 

Yup.

Leaves—more golden-yellow than the last time I’d noticed—stirred. I looked up, realizing the movement matched the breeze overhead. 

Any other time, I would’ve been annoyed that this made me a walking grove weather vane. For now, I only felt relief.

I grabbed my gun and got out the car, pausing long enough to thread my belt through the holster. Slung on my backpack and fished the obnoxiously long staff out of the car. It was an absolute pain to carry everywhere. Paired with my slacks and dress shoes, I looked like I was way too into role-playing crime-fighting wizards—or some kind of nature nut who took hiking far too seriously. 

Last, I grabbed the bag of ice I’d paused to get at a gas station, the only stop I had made. It was fresh ice, or trail mix for breakfast. Lusa had insisted she was fine. I could spare the two minutes to grab ice for a better breakfast for both of us.

I grumbled under my breath and limped into the woods. The skin on my leg was tight, but healing. It wasn’t even six yet. The sun was low in the sky and the shadows long, but I would reach the grove before it set. 

She would be fine.

Everything would be fine.

I was all worked up for nothing.

The corrupted had probably left her chocolate or something. Maybe a cake with a message like ‘You will be mine’ written in black ink. Like something you'd bring to an office Halloween party.

I snorted a laugh at the thought.

Yeah. Chocolates. Or cake. Probably full of poison. 

“Devious, Mr. Corrupted,” I said out loud. “How dare you taint the holy essence of cho—“

I trailed off as a shadow moved. Turned to look. Green eyes peered back at me.

No. 

No, no, no. It was too early. Why was a hollow here?

A mutt slid along the length of the shadow, pacing me.

A pulse. Sharp. Warning. 

What?

Another presence stirred behind me, close to the ground. 

I spun.

A second set of eyes looked back, their owner creeping along a tree shadow, form indistinct.

Found the first mutt again. Closer now. Sliding from shadow to shadow. 

Now seemed like a great time to stretch my legs. I walked faster.

Neither hollow closed the distance, just…pressed in. Beside and slightly behind me. 

As if they were herding me forward.

Cold fear flooded through me. My arm throbbed. 

Was the corrupted here? Were they trying to keep me from Lusa again?

I glanced ahead. The trail crested a rise. The shadows of two towering trees spilled over the trail, washing it in twilight.

A pair of luminescent green eyes waited. 

Bigger than the mutts.

One of the panthera. 

Scar.

Or maybe Khan. Hell if I knew which was which on sight yet.

A whisper of movement behind me. 

A fourth shadow, small and weasel-like, darted forward, hissing.

I reacted. 

Ice met the hollow as it leaped. The impact knocked the bag out of my hand.

The hollow went sailing, smacking into a tree and falling to the ground in a patch of wan sunlight. It struggled to rise, whimpered, and collapsed. Wisps of smoke rose from its body as if it was bleeding.

I fumbled my gun out of the holster, swatting with the staff. The mutts to either side sprang back, keeping just out of reach. 

I sensed movement and spun, raising my gun.

The panthera flashed toward me, teeth gleaming.

I fired. 

The first shot went wild. The second hit him, tearing through his chest. 

The nightmare-cat roared, but kept coming.

My brain stalled as it shrugged off the bullet. But I fired again.

And again.

The panthera stumbled this time, struggling to right himself.

The mutts darted in. 

Two shots. One went wide. The second grazed a mutt.

He pulled back, whimpering. The other came too close. I swung. My staff connected with the second, a glancing blow. It darted back. 

Fired again. Missed. 

Two more shots.

The mutt darted away.

The nightmare-cat still hadn’t gotten up, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. I inched closer, keeping my staff between me and his wicked claws.

I aimed for his head and pulled the trigger.

Nothing.

Pulled again. 

Click.

Blood pounded in my ears. 

Empty.

I fumbled for my spare. Dropped the empty mag. Managed to load a fresh one.

Fired.

The light went out in his eyes and his body began to trail smoke like the weasel’s.

I spun, looking for the other mutts. 

There. In the shadows. 

They didn’t close. I skirted the downed panthera, heading deeper into the trail. 

The grove wasn’t far. The hollows paced me the whole way, but didn’t attack. They watched me warily. Guess dropping something higher on their food chain moved me out of the prey category. 

The grove beckoned.

I couldn’t sense any hollows but the two behind me.

Safety. 

I backed toward the circle, gun raised, letting both hollows see I was watching them. The ward wrapped around me as I crossed the line.

The mutts sat in shadow, waiting.

I leaned on my staff and finally holstered my gun. Drew in a deep breath. The calm of the grove washed over me. The welcome, the sense of home. It did little for my racing heart.

It did loosen my tongue. 

“Well that was fun, you two,” I wheezed. “Next time I want to go a few rounds with a dollar-store Cerberus, I’ll give you a ring.”

The mutts growled, a dissonant, grating sound. I doubted they understood the insult, but it seemed the intent had landed. 

I turned my back to them, a final you aren’t worth my notice…and realized I’d left the ice on the trail.

“Dammit!”

I sagged against the staff, pulse still hammering. A reckless laugh bubbled in my chest.

Ice. Of all the things to lose, it had to be the stupid ice.

My laugh faltered.

Lusa stood watching me.

Her face gave away nothing, but concern seeped through the bond.

“I’m fine.”