Memories flooded his muddled mind. The smell of tobacco over a balcony, a cool wind brushing against his face. Himself in a stiff suit, dodging open palms from Elenya as she laughed. The twins, dancing barefoot over the worn floorboards after passing an exam. Astrid as she watered her plants in the light of the setting suns.

  He opened his eyes, gazing upon a flat ceiling overhead. A gasp came from somewhere, followed by rushing footsteps. He couldn’t find the energy to even turn his head.

  “He’s awake!” came a voice from somewhere far away.

  Where’s the cage? he thought, a tingle spreading through his chest.

  More footsteps and voices followed. They pulled him from somewhere deep, an alertness spreading through his consciousness. With it came the burning sensation of emotions.

  The professor lived. Jonah was dead. He had failed.

  He tried to sit up, but one of his arms was missing. A healed stump in its place. A heavy hand caught him, holding him upright. With a blink, he noticed the lack of depth in his field of view.

  An eye, I’ve lost an eye.

  Slowly, he turned his head to the side. A woman sat beside him, red curls falling down her broad shoulders. She had a strange expression, eyebrows knitted in concern. Beside her stood two others, a stoic man and a petite girl, each staring at him with wide eyes.

  “Relax, son. We are back home,” the Captain said.

  Home, the word snapped something within him. Memories erupted in vivid pictures. A bloody saw. Hollow-eyed prisoners. A human spider skittering towards him. He drew a quick breath and held it, suffocating the raging storm within. After a moment, it passed, and he saw them clearly.

  The broad and muscular Elenya, sitting close. Astrid, with her blond hair and glasses over concerned green eyes, and to the side, Captain Edmund, with an encouraging smile that made tiny wrinkles appear at the sides of his eyes.

  With a deep exhale, Wretch slumped his aching shoulders and let himself fall back into the sheets of the bed. His bed.

  His room was untouched, every scarce piece of furniture unmoved. Borrowed books stacked high on the nightstand. He was sure the midday suns cast it all in hues of gold, but to his changed eyes, there were only shades of grey.

  “They said they’d killed you back at the square,” Wretch said, staring upwards. “I believed them.”

  “We only had to handle one,” Edmund said with a shake of his head. “Thanks to you.”

  It was quiet for a moment, then Wretch spoke. “I will never take you for granted again.”

  “You did that thing with the light, didn’t you?” Elenya said.

  Wretch cleared his throat, letting the fingertips of his only hand brush against the texture of the sheets. “Yeah, I thought it was clever, but they found the blade. And then—” A painful memory flashed. He sat up with a jolt and snapped his head towards them.

  “The other prisoners?” he said, the words tumbling out of his mouth. “Cynthia, Victoria, and Ezra. The boy we were after!”

  “Safe,” Edmund answered without delay. “The city healed their limbs. The foreman tried to thank you personally.”

  “More than once,” Astrid interjected, staring at him as if she heard his thoughts.

  “More than once…” Wretch whispered.

  “How long?”

  Astrid pushed up her glasses. “Three days. They admitted you to a hospital initially, but released you yesterday. The healers and doctors said you were in a coma.”

  Astrid took a step closer. “I couldn’t heal your eye or arm. I could only close the wound, but we didn’t want to leave you.”

  “That’s fine,” he answered, turning with a forced grin. “I can do it myself.”

  Sharp teeth pressed against his lips, and his smile faded. Since the last time they met, he’d changed. Black orbs for eyes. Teeth sharp as blades. And a tail whipping behind him.

  “Do I still look like a hunter?” he asked, shifting his gaze to the crew.

  Edmund answered.

  “You look strong, dangerous, as any good hunter should be,” he said, and Elenya nodded her head in agreement.

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  “I can turn back now, take the form of the Gulschak I slaughtered,” he said, giving them a glance from under the wild locks of dark hair. “But I don’t want to, not anymore. I need more weapons, not less.”

  A loud rumble from his stomach interrupted the conversation.

  “We’ll get you some food,” Edmund said while sitting down to his right, the springs shifting beneath the mattress. “But first, you remember General Frederic from the hunter’s feast? He arrived an hour ago. He was certain he’d be able to talk to you…”

  Wretch looked at the door. A faint breath from the other side, audible to his sensitive ears.

  “You don’t need to hide. If it gets us closer to catching that monster and the Gulschaks, I’ll tell you everything I know.”

  The General appeared in the doorframe. Dark hair combed back, an exquisite uniform with medals gleaming in the light. His green eyes watched him closely but didn't betray any thoughts.

  “I know you’ve endured much,” Frederic said, hands behind his back. “You will have time to rest. Compensation, too. But I need to know what happened, from start to finish. Especially concerning the Gulschaks and this professor Waldenwich.”

  Wretch shook his head. “How did you know I would wake up now?”

  “The power of the flame comes in all forms,” the general said without breaking eye contact. “Do you mind?”

  Wretch studied him, then gave a nod. “We were at Partisan Square, I tried—”

  Frederic raised a hand. “Before we begin,” he said as his eyes lit with fire, “swear to me that you’ll tell the truth until I leave this room.”

  Wretch looked to Edmund. The captain had warned him of this. But this time, Edmund gave a firm nod. Wretch trailed his gaze back to the military man. “I swear.” Without warning, a pressure wrapped around his chest. Dull, almost suffocating, then slowly it eased, dissipating into nothing.

  “Good,” the general said, gesturing out with his hand. “Now, young hunter. From the beginning.”

  Wretch began. The chase from the Partisan Square. The cage and the other prisoners. The Blinking Blade and Jonah. His dark eyes, the tail, and sharp teeth. The talks with the professor and the masked Gulschaks. Their relation with the terrorist named Grendel.

  As he spoke, the air of the room shifted. Elenya sat straight, a hand tightening on the bedframe until the metal groaned. Astrid’s brow furrowed, and Edmund’s smile disappeared. He continued, how he ripped off his own arms, severing his spine to escape. Then Elenya’s knuckles whitened, and Edmund’s jaw tightened. Wretch didn’t stop. The slaughter through the house, up to the elevator. The professor and his stitched beasts.

  “He released them. I fought what Jonah had become, then killed him. That’s the last thing I remember.”

  General Frederic nodded, his face unreadable. “Is there anything you have purposely avoided saying?”

  Wretch’s lips perched to say no. But something stopped him. A tightness grew in his chest, coiling around his heart like a snake. He was about to tell a lie, but simply couldn’t, and the truth forced its way through his lips.

  “I enjoyed killing them…”

  Frederic looked at him for a moment with an expression no doubt capable of hiding many secrets. Then his lips split in a wide smile. “I see. Those weren’t people, hunter, but beasts in human skin. Things to be cut away with a sharp knife. Now, get some rest.”

  Wretch expected the man to leave, but the General stepped forward, past the gazes of the Richters. He lowered himself to one knee and stared into Wretch’s eyes. “But don’t take too long, sabotages spread through Nov Yanosk. Beyond the walls, in the strongholds too. Who could be behind something like that? Who will find them, who will hurt them? If not us, we who are knives?”

  Wretch’s eyes grew wide as the General stood up and walked past a frowning Edmund, not meeting the Captain’s eyes. He exited the room, and the lingering pressure around his chest dissipated. Frederic’s footsteps echoed down the stairs.

  Wretch cast an eye on the crew, then hunched, inspecting his only clawed hand, opening and closing the clawed fingers while his tail swayed behind him.

  “Don’t take that to heart,” Edmund said with a firm voice. “First comes stability. Food and safety. We’re a crew, and we just got you back.”

  The muscles of Wretch’s back flexed under the skin. “I took it for granted.”

  “I took you, the blessings, and the strength that came with it for granted,” he repeated.

  “Wretchy, don’t say that,” Astrid said.

  “I worked hard, sure. But did I truly give it everything? No…” He lifted his eyes to them, and there was a hunger nestled in the black orbs. “I wasted time looking for my father. A ghost. I spent time on leisure when I should have grown claws. That won’t happen again.”

  The Captain clutched a hand on one shoulder while Elenya ruffled his hair. “One step at a time, son. It’s good to have you back, but things like these are tricky. Trust me, I know. I’ve lost more hunters than most. The first time was the hardest,” Edmund began, his tone not revealing any regret, just the calm of someone who had lived through tragedy.

  “For weeks, I couldn’t move. Then I worked so hard that it nearly broke me. Let it take time. Keep moving, but not too fast,” Edmund said while patting him on the back.

  Wretch looked at the Captain, and then at Elenya. She flashed a cruel smile. “I’m just glad my pet rat is back,” she said, rubbing his head with sudden vigor.

  Two small heads peeked around the doorframe. Identical faces, faces he knew. Edmund’s daughters.

  “Dinner’s ready,” Jonna said, eyes flickering between them.

  Astrid grabbed his only hand, a dark claw clutched by her delicate fingers. “Let’s go, you’re in a caloric deficit."

  He nodded and tried to stand up from the side of the bed, his legs struggled under his weight, but two firm hands clutched him under the shoulders to keep him upright.

  They let go as he found his balance, and he stumbled out of the room in a pair of underpants. The twins stood in his way, wide-eyed with black hair framing their mirrored expressions.

  “Hey?” he said, holding on to the doorframe for support.

  Two quiet stares met him.

  “Oh, right, the black eyes, the teeth, and the tail, right?” Wretch said with a half-smile. “Yeah, sorry I’m not changing it back.”

  The girls threw themselves at him in a sudden hug, almost knocking him to the floor. Jonna’s sob shook against his chest, tears soaking his skin.

  “Are you… okay?” he asked awkwardly.

  Jenni pulled back. “She feels guilty. She saw the light, but didn’t think to warn anyone.”

  “Oh!” Wretch said with a stumped expression.

  He tried to produce a smile, realizing too late that it must look absolutely bestial. “Don't worry too much, I’m back now.”

  Pain flashed up his tail. He looked down, finding Whisky, the cat, gnawing and kicking at the rope-like appendage. He couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. It was a dry, hollow laugh. But it was a laugh. Something faded inside him, and for the first time, he felt it.

  He was home.