Duncan let out a slow breath as he pushed through another stretch of dense forest. "I feel like we're just going in circles."
Darnell glanced sideways at him while stepping over a root. "I don't know. I'm not the one who lived here for a couple of months."
"I feel like we're lost."
"Seriously?" Darnell frowned. "What did you even do when you were here?"
Duncan gave a short, dry scoff. "Fixed stuff. Proud Artificer work. Besides, it was usually Ysa and Emily who went hunting for food."
At the mention of the name, Darnell's expression shifted slightly. "Ysa… never imagined her befriending a human."
"Yeah…they were like sisters," Duncan said. "Didn't think Emily would get through her either."
"She must be special then."
"I think Emily reminds her of Yve," Duncan added after a moment.
Darnell looked at him. "Really? How so?"
Duncan adjusted his grip on his gear as they kept walking. "She's curious, fierce, determined… but at the same time—fragile."
"Fragile is not what I would define Yve," Darnell said flatly.
"It doesn't matter how you see Yve," Duncan replied. "It's how Ysa sees her."
Darnell exhaled through his nose as they pushed deeper into the trees. "Still can't believe those two girls are all grown up now."
"Yeah well… you were gone for quite some time," Duncan said. He glanced over. "How are you holding up with your brother still missing?"
Darnell didn't answer immediately. His eyes stayed forward. "I think I'm fine with it now. It's been over a century since his disappearance. If he were alive, why wouldn't he come back to his family?" His jaw tightened slightly. "And he's not the kind of man who would just abandon his wife and his twins."
"You never know…"
"That's right," Darnell said. "But I do know my brother. I know him well enough. The only plausible reason he still hasn't shown up is that he's either stuck somewhere… or dead."
Duncan glanced at him. "How come you never started your own family?"
Darnell's steps slowed just slightly. "I saw how it wrecked Yen when my brother disappeared. I thought… if something ever happened to me, I don't want to put anyone through that kind of grief."
"The Chieftess seems fine now though," Duncan said. "You shouldn't let that thought hold you back from being happy."
"She looks fine," Darnell replied. "But I know she's still hurting. Sometimes I see her staring at Lucien's image for hours. Just… stuck like that."
Before Duncan could respond, Darnell suddenly stopped.
Duncan almost walked into him. "What?"
Darnell lifted an arm, stopping him. His other hand tightened around his sword. "…Are those…?"
Duncan followed his gaze.
Ahead, a fallen trunk lay half-covered in moss and rot. On its side, were legs.
Swollen. Decaying. Wrong.
Darnell drew his sword slowly. "You go around the other side. I'll take this one. Be wary."
Duncan nodded once, already shifting his stance.
They split.
The path curved sharply, and the scene that unfolded stole the air from their lungs. A woman's corpse lay half-hidden in the ferns, her body a canvas of decay.
"Wow," Darnell breathed, the word inadequate.
Duncan crouched, his gaze sweeping over the bloated flesh and the dark, mottled patches of skin. "Look," he said, his voice low and tight. "I think she was murdered." He pointed to a dark, gaping wound on her side. "That's not from an animal. That's a stab wound."
Darnell knelt beside him, his stomach churning at the sweet-sick smell. He saw the purple and yellow bruises mottling her arms and neck, the dried blood caked in her hair. "Maybe even tortured," he murmured, his professional demeanor cracking. "Must've been dead for a few days, at least."
Duncan stood, his eyes scanning the oppressive silence of the woods around them. "Someone was here," he said, a new dread creeping into his tone. "A few days ago. They must've been watching us."
"Well, you got any idea who?" Darnell asked, pushing himself to his feet.
"Only people that come to mind are the cannibals."
"Seriously?" Darnell scoffed. "That's your first thought?"
"Yeah," Duncan insisted, his focus unwavering as he searched the undergrowth. "It makes sense. If they've been watching us, it would be the perfect time to attack while the Winslows were left here alone. Maybe they took David, too."
"How are you so sure?"
As if in answer, a glint of metal caught the light near a mossy log. Duncan moved to it, picking up a small, metal object. He wiped the grime from it on his pants, turning it over in his palm. Recognition dawned slowly, then hit him like a punch. "This is David's lighter," he said, his voice hollow. "He was here."
"Uhmmm. Hey, Dunk..." Darnell's voice was strained. "Is this perhaps... David?"
Duncan turned to follow Darnell's gaze. He was standing a few feet away, staring up into the dense canopy of a massive oak, his finger pointing. Duncan approached, dread coiling in his gut. When he looked up and saw what Darnell was seeing, the world tilted.
"Shit," he choked out. "That's Maurice."
Tied high in the vines and bound to the thick trunk was Maurice's corpse. His eyes were wide, staring at nothing. His jaw had been torn apart, the lower mandible gone, leaving the mouth collapsed and exposed. And his chest... his chest was a hollow, bloody cavity, his heart ripped cleanly from his body.
Darnell's voice broke the silence first. "Maurice?"
The name sat wrong in the air. Like the forest didn't want it spoken.
Duncan's grip tightened on his weapon. "What the fuck happened here?"
Darnell didn't answer. He was already moving. He reached the tree and looked up.
Maurice was bound high against the trunk, vines wrapped tight around his body and limbs, pinning him to the bark like an offering.
The smell hit them even from below.
Darnell climbed.
He dug his boots into the bark, using rough patches and knots for leverage, moving carefully but fast. Every few steps the stench got worse, rot mixed with dried blood and something deeper, wrong in a way that didn't belong in anything alive.
Halfway up, he stopped, adjusted his sword on his hands and drove it into the tree beside him. It bit deep into the trunk.
He tested it once.
Stable.
Then he used it to hold tight, then he leaned in toward Maurice. "Scratch wounds…" he muttered, eyes narrowing. "Deep lacerations… not blade work."
Below, Duncan kept watch, scanning the treeline. "What do you see?" Duncan called up.
Darnell didn't answer immediately. His focus was locked on the body, on the pattern of the injuries, the spread of damage across the torso, the tearing along the ribs.
"Toss me your sword," he finally said.
Duncan hesitated, then complied.
The blade spun up through the air. Darnell caught it cleanly by the hilt without looking away from the corpse.
With Duncan's sword in his other hand, he began cutting through the vines binding Maurice to the tree. The plant matter resisted at first, tight, overgrown—then snapped free in sections.
The body loosened.
Then fell.
Duncan stepped back just in time as Maurice hit the ground with a heavy, hollow thud.
Darnell dropped Duncan's sword and let it hit the ground, then he pulled his own sword free from the trunk and jumped down. He landed on both feet, steadying himself.
Duncan was already crouched by the body.
Darnell handed him his sword back without a word.
Duncan examined the corpse, face tightening. "Those are scratches…"
"Yeah," Darnell said. "Not from any blade."
Darnell crouched beside him, closer now. The wounds were clearer here, long, deep gouges, inconsistent spacing, too violent for anything forged.
A slow breath left him. Then his expression shifted. His claws slid out. Sharper than human nails. He held his hand near the wounds, comparing carefully. "…See?" he said quietly. "Doesn't match a blade. Those are claw marks."
Duncan didn't respond right away. His eyes lingered on Darnell's hand for a fraction longer than necessary. Then he stood. "I'll check the woman's body. See if it has the same wounds."
He turned and went back to the fallen trunk.
~~~
Ysa let out a slow breath, watching the water churn inside the dam as the Pegacampi moved through it in lazy, looping patterns. The surface shimmered under fractured light, calm in a way that felt fragile.
"We should get going," she said again, sharper this time.
Lysander tilted his head toward the structure, eyes tracing the pressure points along the stone and reinforced supports. "If this wall breaks and all that water comes rushing out, it's going to flood those buildings down there."
Ysa didn't even look at him. "Okay. So what's your point?"
He gave a small shrug. "Nothing."
She turned her head slightly, unimpressed. "You done with your random mumbling?"
Lysander glanced at her. Another shrug. No defense, no argument—just acceptance like he'd already stopped caring halfway through his own thought.
Then he raised his voice toward the water. "Fun time's over, comrades. We have to go."
Raine floated near the surface, leaning back against the current like it was a resting chair rather than a controlled dam system. "Few more minutes," she called out lazily. "The Pegacampi are still swimming happily."
Lysander exhaled through his nose. "We have to go, Raine. Prepare them already."
Raine rolled onto her side in the water, resting her cheek on her hand. "Come on… a few more minutes. Why do you have to be such a mood killer?"
That got a faint scoff out of him. "You two really are blood-related." He gestured vaguely between Raine and Ysa without looking away from the dam. "Is there any woman in your clan that isn't like this?"
Ysa just shrugged slightly, as if she had no interest in clarifying anything at all. "Let's go, Raine."
Raine let out an exaggerated grunt as she pushed herself upright in the water. "Fine…" She slipped two fingers between her lips and whistled sharply.
One of the Pegacampi responded immediately, cutting through the water toward her with smooth, deliberate speed. Raine swung herself up onto its back without hesitation, gripping the reins as they surfaced.
The moment it broke through the waterline, its body convulsed in a controlled, unnatural shift—muscle and form reconfiguring mid-motion. Fins collapsed inward, melting into hardened structure. Its lower body reshaped, twisting as hooves replaced tail. Wings unfolded in a sudden, snapping spread as the creature surged upward, water exploding off its frame.
It neighed as it launched fully out of the river, rising into open air.
Behind it, the rest followed.
One after another, Pegacampi breached the surface—each one repeating the same transformation mid-ascent. Water sheared off their bodies in sheets as they converted from aquatic speed to aerial dominance, their wings catching air as they stabilized into flight.
Raine leaned forward slightly, steadying her mount as it leveled out above the dam. "That's it," she muttered. "Easy."
Ysa lifted her fingers to her lips and whistled once, sharp and clear.
Another Pegacampus responded instantly. It dove straight down as Ysa jumped off the edge of the dam without hesitation, letting gravity take her.
She dropped through open air. For a brief moment, she was weightless —then she landed cleanly onto the Pegacampus's back as it caught her mid-fall.
Ysa settled into place and patted its neck once. "Good boy."
Around her, the others followed suit, mounting their own Pegacampus as they ascended in formation. One by one, the Pegacampus leveled out, banking toward the hillside where the bus waited in silence.
~~~
Duncan exhaled through his nose. "The woman didn't have any claw marks on her," he said, voice low. "Hundred percent sure she was killed by a human."
Darnell straightened slightly, still watching Maurice's body. "The other one definitely wasn't," he replied. "But based on the level of decay… both of must've them have been dead for a few days. Maybe even the same time."
Duncan frowned. "Still weird how this happened."
The forest around them stayed quiet, too quiet. Even the wind felt like it had stopped listening.
A pause stretched between them.
Then Duncan spoke again. "We should bring both bodies back."
Darnell turned sharply. "You serious?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
Duncan gave him a flat look. "Yve is the one who actually knows how to deal with corpses. She'll figure it out. How they died at the same time with different killers…near each other."
Darnell let out a reluctant breath. "Fine. I'll take the woman. You take your buddy."
"Not my buddy," Duncan muttered, already moving.
They worked in silence after that.
Darnell lifted the woman carefully, grimacing at how stiff she had become, adjusting his grip so he wouldn't have to look at her face.
For a moment neither of them spoke.
Then Duncan hoisted Maurice in his arms. "Let's go," he said.
Darnell gave a short nod, shifting the woman's weight in his arms. "Yeah."
~~~
Back at Havenwall, Jenkins stood beside the Skindrifter's corpse, motionless for a long moment.
Lucas broke the silence first. "How's Dylan?"
Jenkins exhaled slowly. "Stabilized. For now." He adjusted his stance. "The worst is yet to come. If he doesn't survive the fever spike, he might not make it."
Joan was already moving before Lucas could respond. "I'll go check on him."
Ethan glanced at the corpse, then back up. "What about Yve? She okay?"
Jenkins didn't hesitate. "No."
That single word made the air feel heavier.
He shifted slightly, eyes narrowing at the Skindrifter again. "What I don't understand… is this." His hand gestured toward the body. "The facial structure reverted after death. But the rest of the body still carries her morphological imprint. It's… inconsistent."
Lucas gave a dry look. "You're the scientist, Doc. Don't ask us."
Jenkins gave a faint, humorless breath. "At times like this, I miss VIRA. With all the cool toys I've got there, I could easily crack the mystery behind this." His gaze flicked toward the dim medical corridor. "But nope…here I have to improvise."
"We'll set you up a lab," Lucas said. "Just not right now. Other priorities first."
Jenkins nodded once. "Understood."
Lucas stepped forward slightly. "We're tying it. Just in case."
Jenkins paused. "Just in case it what?"
Lucas didn't answer immediately. Then: "We don't know what this thing can do. What if it comes back to life? Better safe than sorry."
A beat.
"…Very well," Jenkins said. "Please ensure the restraints are secure. I may be a siren now with all its perks but I am still… adapting to this state of existence."
Ethan blinked. "I'm sorry—you're a what?"
Jenkins looked at him. "Oh."
A pause.
Ava turned fully now. "Doc… come again?"
Jenkins exhaled through his nose. "Well. Yve may have turned me into a siren."
Silence hit the room like a dropped weight.
Ethan's voice cracked first. "Wait—what do you mean?'"
Jenkins rubbed his temple slightly. "Yes. That reaction is exactly what I expected."
Lucas slowly turned his head. "Yve said not to overwhelm him with questions."
Ethan took a step forward, staring at him. "No, no, no—hold on. You're serious?"
Jenkins reached into a nearby drawer without hesitation, retrieving a small firearm. He checked it once, taking the bullets out, then closed his hand around it.
Metal protested. The weapon buckled inward with a sharp, ugly crunch, collapsing like thin foil under pressure.
The room went dead silent.
Ethan froze. "Holy—"
Jenkins opened his hand. The crushed metal dropped onto the table with a dull clatter. "Yes," he said quietly. "I am still adjusting."
Lucas let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "Seems like you are."
Jenkins gave a faint nod. "It is… remarkable."
Ethan picked up the crumpled gun carefully, like it might still bite him. "I have so many questions."
"So do I," Ava said quietly.
"Is this the reason why you're bald?" Ethan immediately turned.
Jenkins said, "Yes. I even shed my old human skin like a snake…I don't know when my hair will start to grow but I hope it's soon cause being bald does not suit me."
Ava blinked at him, processing that for a moment. "No wonder you seem like you can see in the dark… I saw you once cross the street without a flashlight. It took me a while to even realize it was you, and yet you greeted me like you could see my whole face."
Jenkins gave a small, matter-of-fact nod. "Night vision is one of the perks."
Ethan's eyes lit up immediately. "Can she turn me into one too? How did it feel like? You must feel great."
Lucas turned his head slightly. "Ethan…"
Ethan kept going anyway. "Do you have a tail? Can you breathe underwater? Can you do the sword thing like they do? Can your eyes change? Can you—"
Lucas grabbed him by the collar mid-sentence and started dragging him toward the door. "Outside."
"But I—" Ethan flailed. "I'm just asking scientifically relevant questions!"
"You're done talking, kid." Lucas said as he dragged him like a child.