Other figures began to appear out of the mists, both men and women, all naked, dark-haired and swarthy-skinned; they moved low and sinuously, like animals; occasionally their eyes gleamed like cats'.
"In the days of our ancestors, we lived side-by-side with humankind. The wild men of the woods, you called us, and in the dark wintertime you even came to look upon us fondly, as you yet feared us. For sometimes we would bring gifts to your door, and keep away the privations of the long, dark nights. For it is in our nature to help fellow creatures of intellect." There was a hint of anger in this last sentence. "Your people knew us, and our powers, and never hunted us, for they knew we never ate human flesh. For if we did, the taste of it would consume us and we would desire it ever more and there would be nothing but war between our races."
The other members of the pack circled round, filtering in and out of the mists. Witch kept a wary eye on them; the mention of human flesh had unnerved him.
"And if one of our people turned rogue, and ate mortal meat, we would hunt him down and destroy him ourselves," the leader continued. There was a long pause while he looked into each of their faces, and then he said, "But this night gone you did attack us."
Veitch suddenly noticed the splatter of dried blood across his left ribcage. "You attacked his sheep."
The leader fixed his cold eyes on Veitch. "But we never ate human flesh."
Tom took a cautious step forward to attract the leader's attention away from Witch's lack of diplomacy. "We had no idea the Lupinari had returned to these lands," he said in as conciliatory a tone as he could muster. "We would never wish to offend you. We would hope to live in peace, as we always did in times past."
Golden eyes blinked slowly, implacably. "Nevertheless, a blow has been struck. There must be some retribution before we agree a pact." His face contained no emotions they could understand, and they all feared the worst.
McKendrick had seemed in a daze to this point, but in that moment he appeared to grasp what was happening. "Not Anna," he whimpered.
"His sheep, given freely," Tom suggested hastily.
The leader shook his head slowly. "We had no knowledge they were his beasts or we would not have taken them. We can easily find other prey. For that is what we do."
"Not Anna," McKendrick said again.
"You better not have killed her," Veitch snapped.
The leader's eyes flashed towards him, filled with such bestial rage Veitch instinctively went to protect his throat. "I held your head in my jaws," the leader growled. "You are nothing to me."
"You don't eat human flesh," Tom noted. "You said."
As if on cue, another figure advanced from the mists; it was Anna. At first she moved with the sluggish pace of someone who had been hypnotised, but when she neared them, recognition dawned in her eyes and she ran to her father. They held each other, crying silently.
"What do you require?" Tom asked quietly.
The leader fixed his unflinching stare on the Rhymer. "For one night, every year, she will leave her father to be with us."
McKendrick's eyes grew wider. "What will happen to her?"
"She will learn to hunt with the Lupinari."
"To hunt?" McKendrick brought the back of his hand to his mouth. "My wee girl?"
Veitch saw something else. "She isn't going to stay around here forever."
The leader's eyes narrowed. "If the pact is broken the Lupinari will seek retribution through the hunt."
"It is agreed," Tom said.
"No!" McKendrick was blazing with righteous anger now. "I won't leave my daughter with these things!"
Tom placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "There isn't another way. If you want to save her life, and yours, then you'll do this." He turned back to the leader and repeated, "It is agreed."
The leader nodded slowly. "Then perhaps in times to come our peoples can live closely and wisely once more."
There was a note of conciliation in his voice. Veitch herded McKendrick away before he could put up any opposition, relieved that it hadn't come down to a fight, knowing they wouldn't have stood a chance if it had.
After a few paces he glanced back, just to be sure they were not being followed. But all he saw were vague impressions as the Lupinari melted back into the mist, and not a single footfall was heard to mark their passing.
Back at the croft McKendrick was in a state of shock, but Anna seemed to have accepted her tribulation with equanimity. When she saw Veitch watching her intently, she left her father sitting on the floor next to the hearth and pulled him to one side.
"No grim faces now," she cautioned with a gentle finger on his cheek. "It's not the end of the world."
"You don't know what they'll be expecting of you on your nights with them."
"I'll deal with it when it happens."
"And it's going to be hard for you ever to get away from here now."
"What's to stop me coming back just for the night?" But they both knew it wasn't going to happen. "I just wanted to say, thanks for helping us." She seemed to read every troubled thought passing through his head. Then she took his face in her hands, stood on tiptoes and gave him a long, deep kiss. Afterwards she said, "It's a shame you have to go-"
"I have to."
"I know. But it's a shame." And then she smiled once and turned to her father. Veitch watched her for a while, kneeling next to McKendrick, one hand round his shoulder, whispering comforting words that only the two of them could hear. But then Tom caught his eye and nodded towards the door.
They made their goodbyes as best they could, and then when they were out walking over the sun-drenched hillsides, Veitch asked, "Is this always how it is?"
"What do you mean?"
"When you're trying to do the right thing in the world. When you've got all these responsibilities. Like a big fucking rock on your shoulder."
Oddly, Tom appeared pleasantly surprised by the comment. He clapped Veitch warmly on the shoulder. "That's how it is. You get your reward later."
"How much later?"
Tom's tight smile seemed filled with meaning, but Veitch couldn't understand it at all. "Much, much later," the Rhymer said before turning his attention to the path ahead.
They walked nonstop for the next day across the exhausting mountainous landscape and made camp in a gorge as night fell. They hadn't seen or heard anyone since they had left the croft; in the desolation, humanity could have been stripped from the face of the planet and they would never have known.
Since he had left Anna, Veitch hadn't been able to settle. He had found his thoughts turning to the others he had spent so long with over the past months. Why did they act the way they did? Why did they say one thing while believing another? His own thoughts had always moved swiftly and directly into words, and in the past he had judged others by the same standard, although he had known subconsciously that was rarely the case. And finally his attention had turned to Tom; he had spent the day secretly watching the way he moved, the subtleties of his facial expressions, his strange choice of words, and by the evening he knew that he didn't know the man at all.
As they sat around the fire finishing up the last of the provisions McKendrick had given them, the questions were plaguing Veitch so much he couldn't keep them in any longer. "You said yesterday your eyes were better than mine." Tom nodded. "How much else has changed?"
The Rhymer prodded the fire, sending the sparks soaring. "A great deal."
"Like what?"
"I can hear better. Smell things more acutely. Can't really taste very much any more, though."
Veitch gnawed on a crust while he thought. "If a doc cut you open," he began, "what would he find inside?"