The blade shone viciously under the light of the cabin's single bulb. Luke felt a fresh surge of unbridled terror as the man advanced, twirling the weapon expertly. His whole body froze; he couldn't breathe, his eyes following nothing except that shining, murderous glint of steel. Could this really be how he was going to die? Cut to pieces by some sociopathic big game hunter in a backwoods cabin?

"Get away from me!" Luke screamed at last, his composure finally melting away into blind panic.

To his immense surprise, DeVergne actually stopped in his tracks, just a couple of feet away with the knife poised to strike. He straightened up, looking to his right. His brow furrowed. Luke could only watch, willing that horribly sharp blade to stay away from him. The woman at the door dropped a hand to the gun holstered at her hip. The other man pushed up from his position leaning against the wall, frowning.

"Simon?" he asked. "What is it?"

"I heard something." DeVergne stepped back from Luke, knife still clutched tight as his sharp eyes darted accusingly back and forth.

Luke tugged at his bonds while they were distracted, but the ropes remained as tight as ever. He cursed inwardly, wishing that some kind of luck could fall his way; wishing that he could get out of here and tell the whole wide world what was happening in the woods of Lasquette Bay. His thoughts flashed to Oaklynn, thoughts of her having her horn carved out by DeVergne's butcher's blade. Impotent rage sizzled inside him at that image but right now there was nothing he could do about it.

Then his ears pricked up at a strange sound from outside the cabin, faint but growing gradually louder. A muffed thunk thunk thunk seemed to bleed into the woods around them, rising like a bizarre drumbeat. For a moment Luke thought he felt a tremor in the ground. The noise swelled, no longer playing on the fringes of his senses.

An instant later, the wall to his left exploded inwards with a crash.

A blizzard of pulverised wood showered him, and Luke flinched, closing his eyes for a moment as the splinters rained down. When he looked back again his mouth dropped open in surprise when he saw Oaklynn standing there.

She was fully transformed, and she wasn't alone.

Luke stared in amazement at the trio of Karkadda. He recognised Kasper, the young man's sinewy physique accented by the reinforced lines of bone, his expression grim below the curving scythe of a horn that rose from his forehead. Beside him was the girl who always seemed to be not far from the volatile Karkadda, her long dark braids gleaming like strands of night under the transformation.

Oaklynn stood out in front, but instead of the ethereal blue-white of the others, now a baleful crimson light blazed from her body. Her eyes burned with wrath and her horn shone like a blade of fire. Shattered remnants of the cabin wall she'd just smashed through fell to the ground around her like autumn leaves as she stepped forward. Her head snapped briefly to Luke. Rage twisted her other-worldly visage, and she turned back to the poachers.

She didn't speak. She just charged.

The man closest to her never stood a chance. Luke watched with a mixture of shock and awe as she rocketed forward with inhuman speed, lowering her head like a bull and letting out a blood-curdling screech. The poacher got his pistol halfway from its holster before she struck him, ramming her horn straight through his sternum.

There was a sickening crunch of breaking bone and the man let out a gurgle of surprise as he was impaled. Her charge barely faltered, and three more powerful strides carried the dying poacher backwards until she slammed him into the opposite wall. Oaklynn wrenched herself loose with a powerful jerk of her neck muscles, spraying blood across the ceiling, and the man's corpse thumped limply to the ground.

Kasper and his companion went flying forward. The female poacher got her gun loose and fired at him, but he jerked aside just as she pulled the trigger, leaving the bullet to rip harmlessly through the floor beside him. Before she could shift her aim, he surged forward and hit her shoulder first, with enough force to fling her bodily into the wall. The gun spun away, and she collapsed in a heap.

Luke saw DeVergne twist and grab something off of the table behind him. He spun back around just as the other Karkadda reached him, ducking away from the lunge of her horn. They crashed together and she tackled him to floor.

She let out a sudden scream of pain and rolled frantically away from him, revealing DeVergne, flat on his back, holding what looked like a blow torch in one hand. A short blue flame roared from the nozzle as he scrambled to his feet, and Luke glanced across to see the female Karkadda struggling upright, clutching a nasty-looking burn in her side.

Just as Kasper was about to bring a boot down on the skull of the female poacher, DeVergne leapt between them, thrusting the blow torch at the Karkadda's face. Kasper jerked back with a snarl, giving just enough time for DeVergne to haul his partner upright and manoeuvre towards the cabin door.

"Well, there's just a whole herd of you out here isn't there?" he spat angrily. Eyes filled with bitter fury flashed to Luke for a moment before his attention returned to the Karkadda. "This isn't over."

He turned the blow torch nozzle down onto the dry, brittle carpet of the cabin and in an instant the thing caught fire. Flames licked hungrily at the surrounding wood as DeVergne propelled his comrade out the door and scrambled after her.

Swearing colourfully, Kasper leapt back from the flames, whirling round and grabbing the other Karkadda, taking her arm across his shoulder. He looked back, his eyes lingering on Luke briefly before passing him by.

"Oaklynn, get him!" he barked, then turned away, helping his injured companion out through the hole they'd smashed in the cabin wall.

Oaklynn skidded to a halt beside Luke, dropping into a crouch and taking a firm grip of the ropes that held him to the chair. Heat washed over them as the flames continued to spread, tongues of fire dragging more and more of the cabin into an inferno. He felt a violent tug followed by the sound of snapping fibres and splintering wood. The next thing he knew, Oaklynn grabbed him and yanked him bodily upright.

"C'mon," she blurted, dragging him along with unnatural strength until they burst out into the open air of the forest.

Luke coughed, hacking smoke from his lungs as he stumbled. She kept him upright; together they blundered out of the heat and to the edge of the treeline where she let him slide into a sitting position against one thick trunk.

"Oaklynn, the fire!" Kasper shouted. "Help me."

She abruptly released her hold on Luke, stood and turned to face the steadily climbing blaze that had engulfed the small log cabin. Unchecked it could easily spread into the forest and Luke felt a jolt of panic. If a wildfire erupted here, it could take days for the local fire service to contain it.

Oaklynn sprinted over to the far side of the blazing cabin, skidding to her knees in the mud of the forest floor. Kasper took up a position on the opposite end, digging both hands deep into the loamy earth. Light blossomed around the pair as whatever power they possessed went coursing through the ground.

Luke watched in amazement as a glittering ring of silvery white slowly extended from each of their hands. Four strands stretched out to form a circle around the blazing cabin as it began to collapse in on itself and when the connection was completed, he felt a pulse of wind lash through the clearing. The fire coiled and thrashed like a living thing, and the threaded circle of light pulsed again.

Minutes passed. Slowly but surely the fire began to burn out, shying away from whatever strange barrier Oaklynn and Kasper had erected around it. When only a few struggling embers remained the pair finally stood, dragging mud-caked hands from the earth. Their glow of their bodies subsided. He noticed that Oaklynn's colour had reverted back from the hellish crimson, now a soft, tepid blue.

Kasper rounded with a snort of satisfaction. He barely glanced at Luke as he walked past, instead sinking down into a crouch next to his wounded comrade.

"Mercy, you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm okay," she answered through gritted teeth. "Just a flesh-burn. It'll heal. Bastard."

"Just rest a minute."

Mercy nodded, letting her head rock back against the tree trunk as her transformation reversed. The bones receded, her horn sheathing itself once more, but there remained a glimmer of light around the burn in her torso.

"Luke!"

His head snapped around at the sound of Oaklynn's voice. She bolted over to him, the glow of her body disappearing as she changed back into her human form. Dropping to her knees, she grabbed him and pulled him forward into a fierce hug, her arms wrapped around the back of his neck and her hands clutching at his hoodie, as though she though he might evaporate into the air if she didn't hold on.

"Are you okay?" she gasped. "I saw them grab you from my window but by the time I got down they were gone!"

"Yeah," he managed after a second. "Yeah, I'm okay." He brought his arms up to return her embrace, shuddering and burying his face into her shoulder. He could feel himself shaking, the adrenaline of the ordeal still coursing in his veins. Luke tried to control it but only ended up clinging to her more tightly, trembling all over.

"It's alright, it's alright, I'm here," she assured him, one hand moving to cup the back of his head, her fingers gently pressing through his hair.

Luke held onto her like a rock in a hurricane, trying to get his nerves back under control. Eventually he managed to breathe normally, feeling his heartbeat slow down for the first time in what felt like hours. Taking long, slow breaths he slowly pulled back and allowed Oaklynn to help him up.

"Thanks," he began, dusting himself off before looking up. Any more words scurried back down his throat when he saw her face.

The horn was gone, but the blood of the man she'd killed was not. It covered her forehead where the horn would have protruded from and smeared its way down between her eyes and over her nose. Luke opened his mouth, not sure what to say, looking past the crimson stains, trying to see the beautiful girl that had knocked him head over heels from the moment he met her. He found her eyes, the storm-grey, piercing, captivating gaze and clung on to that.

"Oaklynn, you've got..." Luke made an awkward gesture to his face.

"What?" She touched a hand to her forehead. It came away slick and red. Looking at her palm her expression morphed into one of horror. "Oh my God." Oaklynn spun away, frantically scrubbing at her face with the sleeves of her jacket.

"Oaklynn?" He edged a little closer to her.

"Don't!" Her voice cracked in a sob, and she continued desperately trying to wash the gore from her face. "I'm not... we're not killers. I just reacted." A shrill, wordless growl escaped her lips, and she hung her head. "I'm not a murderer."

"Hey, hey, no," he babbled, stepping forward and taking a gentle grip of her shoulders. "Oaklynn, that crazy bastard was about to cut me to pieces. If you hadn't come when you did... you saved my life!"

She resisted a little at first as he tried to turn her, but relented after a moment, allowing herself to be rotated back to face him. He took a breath and delicately placed a hand under her chin, easing her head up. She cleared her throat; reluctantly swept her hair out of her face. Most of the blood had been scrubbed away now but she still looked utterly ashamed of herself.

"You saved my life," he repeated.

"Yeah, she did," Kasper grated stomping over to them, anger etched in every line of his face. "Are you hurt?"

"I... err, no."

"Great." He didn't sound that thankful about it, but Luke decided that discretion was probably the better part of valour right now.

"Thanks, both of you," he said, before extending a hesitant hand to Kasper.

"I came here because she asked," the Karkadda grunted, ignoring the gesture. "I don't even like you."

Luke smiled nervously. "You don't say."

"Lucky for you I like poachers a lot less." Kasper turned his attention to Oaklynn. "So, he knows? About us? About everything?"

She nodded. "Pretty much."

"Terrific," Mercy groaned, picking herself up of the ground. She touched a hand experimentally to the wound in her side and winced. To Luke's amazement the blistered flesh already seemed to be healing. "Guess we don't have a lot of choice anymore."

Kasper nodded.

Luke looked from one to the other, a fresh sense of unease creeping over him. He doubted they meant him any harm, otherwise why bother saving his life in the first place? Even so, the grim expressions of both Mercy and Kasper didn't make him feel particularly comfortable.

"Okay, what are you guys talking about?" he asked.

"It's okay, Luke," Oaklynn said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "But you can't go home yet. You need to come with us." Her voice was filled with sadness and resignation. Whatever was about to happen, she didn't seem like she wanted it any more than he did.

A sudden ripping of cloth whipped his attention back to Kasper, and he saw the young man tearing the sleeve from his black top. He looked it up and down and made a small noise of approval before handing it to Luke.

"Put that on, round your eyes," Kasper instructed.

Luke took the blindfold and held it in his hands for a moment, every instinct telling him to run for the hills. Suppressing that thought and reasoning he probably wouldn't be outrunning the Karkadda anyway, he looked to Oaklynn. She gave him a tiny, barely discernible nod.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

Kasper smiled coldly. "It's your lucky day. We're taking you to see the Mahar."