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39

"You expect me to drink this clean? You poured half a bottle in here!"

"Half a bottle fer a half-dead idjit, makes perfect sense to me. Now swallow the damn thing 'fore you pass out again!"

James regarded the amber liquid sloshing around inside his cup with suspicion. "Can I at least get some milk in this?"

"Oh sure! Let me just walk into town and buy a quart of just man the hell up and chug that brandy, ya damn idjit! That's some premium stuff right there! I coulda given you the cheapo junk they sell down at Artello's, but no! I thought I'd do my little bro a favour and get him a little something-something from my private collection, and you ask fer milk!?"

Luke's head popped up from underneath the table. "I'll take some, Uncle Jon."

"Lucas! Now there's a boy close to me heart! C'mere and show yer old man how it's done!"

James sighed and downed the vile cup in a single draught, grimacing against the foul, bitter taste.

"There ya go!" Jon beamed. "Now was that so hard? You'll feel better in a jiffy."

James clunked the cup down on the table and wiped his lips. Heat bloomed inside the pit of his stomach and spread outward like a fire, not entirely unpleasant, but it had been years since he'd drunk anything as strong as this.

Years since I've been in this house, too...

James leaned back in the creaky old chair he remembered from his childhood and waited for the brandy to get a proper foothold. It felt so strange, being back here all of a sudden. Everywhere he looked, he saw something that made him want to shake his head, smile, roll his eyes, laugh, or do all four together.

The fireplace, so crooked and ugly, every stone chipped and cracked in a hundred different ways, but still so warm and inviting. Jonah was sitting cross-legged on a frayed old blanket with Tim and Valery, showing them how to fold squares of paper into all kinds of shapes; flowers, birds, butterflies, boats. Tim was eating it all up, carefully following his instructions to the letter, folding the paper exactly on the guidelines his cousin had drawn out for them, his tongue sticking out between his teeth in concentration. Val, on the other hand, could only scratch her head in puzzlement as all her creations came out looking like amorphous balls of crumpled paper, a stark contrast to the neat line of animals in Tim's lap.

The pictures hanging on the walls in their dusty frames; pictures of the mill spinning around in the breeze, pictures of the hills and the valleys, pictures of the river and of the mountain, pictures of the town and of the people. Half of them leaned crookedly to the west, while the other half leaned crookedly to the east. A lot of them were gifts from Emily to the whole family, back when she was still a fledgling artist. It was only after she became confident in her skills that she began to make pictures for James and James alone. That was the summer they began courting.

Seeing those pictures again after so many years was like finding a long lost piece of Emily's heart, and if it wasn't for the brandy rushing through his veins, James thought he probably would have broken down right there. But as he was now, he was simply happy to see them again. For a while there, back in the woods, he thought he might not make it this far.

"Thank you, Jon, I think I needed that," he said, meaning more than just the shot of brandy.

Jon crossed his arms over the table and leaned forward. "How's the, er... you know? The great big hole in ya?"

"It's not a 'hole', it's just a cut."

"Oh sure, and my mill is just a paper fan. Let me see it."

"Haghh... fine." James unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt and spread it wide, revealing the wound Banno had put just above his heart.

"Oh damn. They don't normally make pokers that sharp."

"No, they don't. And this one wasn't either."

"Ouch!"

James chuckled. "Yeah. 'Ouch'."

"Jamey, I love ya like a brother, cuz that's what you are, but I have to say, that is the worst cauterize job I ever seen, and I once saw a guy cauterize his own foot with the same axe blade he chopped it with. Meat is not wood, Jamey! You can't just poke a piece of metal in there and expect it to stay together!"

"I was in a hurry."

"You're gonna havta see Betty about that."

"I know."

"It's a godsdamned miracle you didn't bleed out."

"I know."

"You must have one helluva guardian angel looking after you, Jamey, cuz I can't explain it otherwise. That picture couldn't have done it by itself. No way."

James smiled, leaned his head back, stared at the ceiling, and just breathed for a while. It was good to be back here, in the house he grew up in. It was good to be in a place that was warm and safe. It was good to know his children were all right. But...

Her life_, James. I need to swallow her life. Only then can I taste her death, and only then can she be a part of me... forever._

His smile disappeared. He looked at his one and only daughter, smiling so beautifully in the firelight, laughing as she tossed a paper duck into the air. He could still see the four puncture marks in her neck, hardened into red scabs against the golden fur she had inherited from her mother.

He reached up and put his hand over his breast pocket, where Emily's picture still rested. He could hear it crinkle slightly at his touch.

"He's still out there, Jon. Somewhere in the snow. Still looking for us."

"Who? That Banno guy? Impossible."

"You never met him, Jon. But I'm telling you, I know."

"A busted foot, a busted leg, a busted back, a busted eye, wandering around out there, in the snow, all night long? There's no way a guy like that can make it more than a couple hours, if that."

"I'm telling you, Jon. He's still out there."

"You worry too much. Perfectly understandable, after what you've been through. You need to take a minute to relax a little."

"No, you don't understand. He won't give up. He'll never give up. That thing doesn't even... He doesn't even feel anything! Or maybe he does, I don't know... If you'd met him, you'd understand. He's not just 'crazy', Jon. He's something much, much worse." He rubbed his face, feeling tired and miserable. "He won't stop until he or everyone else is dead. Maybe not even then."

"He sounds like a real monster."

"I have to see the Elders. Right now. They need to know about this. Banno could be stalking our borders, looking for a way to get inside. Everyone needs to be on the lookout, we need to -"

"James. That won't be... That won't be entirely necessary."

"What?" James didn't like the strange look on his brother's face; part fear, part worry. "People need to know! We could all be in danger!"

"We already know, James. We know we're in danger, but that danger... it..." He glanced at the children, sitting by the fire, talking and smiling. "Jonah, why don't you take the kids upstairs and lend them some of your old clothes, hmm? They're absolutely filthy. Can't let them go about in tatters like that."

"Um... Sure, okay." Jonah looked at Valery and cocked his head. "I don't think I have anything that'll fit little Vee, though."

"I'm sure you'll find something usable. It's only for one night."

"I really don't -"

"I'm sure you'll find something usable, Jonah. Now please take them upstairs. Would you?"

Jonah's eyes widened in understanding. "Oh, right! Clothes. Yes. Um... Come on, cousins! Those rags are practically falling right off. We'll get you something nice and warm, and... Don't worry, Vee. We don't have any pretty dresses for you or anything like that, but as long as you're comfy, it's all good, right? We can just roll up the sleeves if they're too big, so... come on up and we'll..."

Luke, Tim, and Valery weren't getting up. They simply shifted their gaze from Jonah to their Uncle Jon, who was rapping his knuckles against the table and bouncing his knee up and down.

"What's wrong?" Luke asked. "What happened?"

Jon sighed and rubbed his forehead, like he was getting a headache. "James, please tell your kids to go upstairs. The grownups need to talk for a minute."

"After what they've been through, they're practically grownups already," James said. "Now quit faffing about, Jon. What's wrong? Why are you so scared?"

Jon looked to Jonah, and Jonah shrugged. "I think you should tell them, Father. They're gonna find out eventually."

Jon clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Ain't no rest for nobody these days. Whole world has gone to hell in a handbasket, upside down and all around."

"Jon. Please."

"There are Wolves in the Valley, James. Quite a few. Six or seven, I think. And two of them are the brothers of that Banno guy who nearly killed you."

James did not say anything. He took the bottle of brandy, considered pouring it into the cup, thought it too much of a bother, and then did something he had never done before. He drank straight from the neck, finishing the whole thing in three quick swallows. He set the empty bottle down on the table with a hollow clunk, and looked his big brother in the eye.

"Tell me everything."