For the second time in one night Luke found himself blindfolded and carted off somewhere. This time, however, he felt a lot less abject terror and a lot more curiosity. He'd fully expected to be tossed into the back of another vehicle for the journey, but that didn't happen. Instead, he found himself trekking precariously through the woods with Oaklynn guiding him along. He could just about keep his footing by peering through he slit at the bottom of the blindfold, but otherwise he could have been anywhere south of Lasquette for all he knew.

He had no real idea how long they'd been out here, but his legs started to get tired, the incline of the woods increasing as they moved uphill. Oaklynn's grip on his hand tightened and she made sure he stayed close, whispering hushed instructions as they traversed more difficult terrain. There didn't seem to be any paths out here; no human foot trails.

Luke guessed the Karkadda must've covered their tracks pretty vigilantly if no-one else even knew they were out here. Did they even need paths? Oaklynn had spoke of a connection with nature – for all he knew they could find their way anywhere in these woods without any kind of assistance.

It must have been more than an hour later when Luke finally picked out a low hubbub of voices in the forest. Despite shivering in the cold he tried to listen. He couldn't discern any individuals, but the sound was definite. There were people out here. Or more likely, a lot of Karkadda. He wondered how many of them called the woods their home? Did they even have homes?

But they had to. Kasper was a student at ELU just like Oaklynn; Mercy as well. They lived normal human lives at least some of the time. In that case, though, why was he being dragged out into the middle of nowhere?

He restrained himself from asking, knowing it wouldn't do much good. They clearly didn't want him to be able to find their destination again. Instead he just listened, trying his best to keep from falling over. Any time he stumbled Oaklynn was right there to catch him and pull him upright, the only meaningful anchor he had left in what had turned out to be a very, very strange night.

The voices grew louder, even raucous as they neared their destination. Luke could feel his anxiety climbing up his throat all over again no matter how many times he told himself that they weren't going to hurt him.

"It's okay," Oaklynn whispered, giving his fingers a reassuring squeeze as though she could sense his mood. "We're almost there."

"Almost where?" he asked at last.

"Home," he heard Kasper grunt from further ahead.

The ground levelled out not long after that. Luke found his feet stepped on something flat; an actual path at long last. He straightened up, loosening his grip on Oaklynn's hand and letting her guide him forwards. He could pick out individual speakers now, though not anyone that he recognised. People shouted encouragement. Whoops and cries filled the air. He heard a couple of strange, thumping crashes.

"Alright, you can take it off now," Mercy said, her voice coming from a few yards behind him.

He hesitated for a brief instant as Oaklynn pulled her hand gently from his. Then his curiosity (and no small amount of fear) came roaring back to the fore and he ripped the blindfold from his face.

A clearing in the forest greeted him. He didn't have the slightest notion where they were in relation to the bay itself, as thick, looming walls of trees enclosed them, cutting off any outside light. The path was a flat trail of dirt, pounded out by uncounted footsteps and cutting its way through the centre of the glade until it reached a large, low structure.

Luke stared, drinking it all in. The dwelling was a lot more normal than he had been expecting. A long, sprawling, slant-roofed bungalow, it was constructed of the same dark wood of the surrounding pines. It almost blended into the landscape, spilling soft light from its windows that bled away into the shadows of the trees.

More striking than the building itself, however, were the dozen or so Karkadda in the grounds beyond the walls, some of them openly changed and glowing like miniature suns. Groups of them goaded each other onwards, and he watched in amazement as two brawny male Karkadda circled each other on the tracts of grass that surrounded the house.

"C'mon," Kasper ordered, beckoning.

Clearing his throat, Luke nodded, falling into step alongside Oaklynn. She flashed him a smile but she couldn't quite get the feeling into it. He could feel the unease beating from her in heavy, undisguised waves. He could even see the flickers of light on her skin. He didn't know much about Karkadda, but it seemed pretty clear that the luminescence they generated tied into their emotions somehow.

Trying to distract himself as they walked, he looked back to the pair that still circled each other, maybe thirty yards away. They were drawing closer to each other, and the onlookers began to chant and yell with increasing intensity. The whole thing had a feverish look to it, something raw and ancient that he didn't understand.

"What are they-," he started to ask, but he never got the chance to finish his question.

With the quickness of striking snakes the pair suddenly shot towards each other, heads lowering. A cheer went up from the onlookers and an instant later the two Karkadda slammed together, locking their horns and jostling for position. Their bodies flared with light, feet digging deep furrows in the ground. He realised abruptly that those some furrows scarred the grassy clearing all over, some fresh, some with new grass spreading into them.

Evidently this happened a lot.

After a moment of twisting and wrenching one of the Karkadda managed to lever his body upwards and hook his horn around his opponent's. With a twisting, violent jerk of his neck his sent the other combatant spinning until he crashed to the ground. A fresh roar of approval exploded in the air and the winner pumped both fists into the air with a shrill howl of victory.

"Mating blood," Oaklynn said softly as they walked.

"They're competing for girls?" he asked, awkwardness tripping the words as he tried to get them out. "So like, the winner gets the... rights?"

"In the olden days they would fight for a mate," Mercy drawled mockingly, earning a withering look from Kasper up ahead. "Males would fight each other. The winner then got the right to fight the female in question."

Luke looked back at her in confusion. "Fight them?"

"No-one wants a weak mate," she replied, a venomous smile splitting her dusky features. "Only after besting a female in combat does a male earn the right."

"Oh." He gulped down the lump in his throat.

"Things are a little more civilised now," Oaklynn snorted, rolling her eyes. "Sometimes male Karkadda just need to blow off steam at this time of year. If they don't it can come out in other ways, places we don't want it. They can ram each other into the dirt all they want. It doesn't give them the right to a damn thing."

Mercy shrugged, the expression on her face making it clear she didn't mind the idea of males fighting over her. Kasper didn't seem to react at all, leading the way in long strides towards the front door of the bungalow. A solid slab of wood painted dark red, it made a deep thunking sound when he knocked on it, clenched fist landing palm down against it.

They lingered on the doorstep for a moment, before the clunk of a lock sounded and the door opened. A gangly man with a thick bush of black hair and beard to match appeared in the threshold, his eyes narrow.

"Kasper, Mercy?" He looked over the group and a knowing sigh fell from his lips. "Aaand Oaklynn Cooper. What a nice surprise."

"Oh, shove it," she snapped back.

The man shrugged and his gaze meandered over to Luke. "And I'm guessing this is...?"

"It's him," Kasper confirmed. "He knows. We need to see the Mahar."

"Thought you might. Wait here."

The door closed in their faces again and muffled footsteps quickly faded into nothingness inside the house.

"So, who's the 'Mahar'?" Luke asked as they waited.

"Think of her like a mayor," Mercy replied before Oaklynn could answer. "She leads the herd. What she says goes. I'd remember that if I were you."

"Oh, great."

"She's not wrong," Oaklynn added reluctantly. "Make sure you're respectful. Around here she's in charge."

"It's not like my first plan was to walk in there and start slinging insults," he shot back, feeling a little annoyed now. So this Mahar was in charge – simple enough. Don't piss off the head of the family.

"Sorry. It's just, this is not the world you know, Luke. It's different."

"Believe me, I know that."

Further sniping was cut short when the man returned, pulling the door fully open and gesturing for them to enter.

"In you come then," he said. "You know where to go."

"Thanks," Kasper grunted, stepping over the threshold.

Oaklynn placed a gentle hand on Luke's back, directing him forward and into the house. He didn't resist, his mind wandering with dozens of questions. Did lots of Karkadda actually live out here? Or was this just some kind of party house owned by the Mahar where they could transform – and apparently knocks bells out each other – away from prying eyes?

The air inside smelled of incense. Narrow tendrils of smoke coiled faintly in the air, creating an aroma of sandalwood and saffron that clung to them. His shoes rasped against polished hardwood floors and he saw electric lights, just as you'd find anywhere else, illuminating cream-coloured walls.

Following Kasper they turned left down a broad corridor, with windows lining one side that looked out onto the grounds. Luke could still see the flashing shapes of Karkadda in the dark, distant now but no less striking. Paintings hung on the opposite wall between a handful of doors, depicting weird shapes and storms of colour that he couldn't make any sense of.

The silence made goosebumps stand up on his skin. Although the house was warm enough, he felt a chill of a different sort. Oaklynn's demeanour could best be described as funereal; Mercy smirked along behind them, as though looking forward to whatever encounter awaited them. He tried not to think about it. One step at a time. Maybe meeting this Mahar wouldn't be so bad.

They passed through a large mahogany door at the end of the hall, which opened out into a much larger room, some kind of reception hall he guessed. Although the ceiling of the bungalow wasn't particularly high, the open space still gave an impression of vastness, with a forest of dark crossbeams filling the ceiling. As they walked out into the centre of the room his mouth opened dumbly and he let his eyes wander, finding artwork of a different sort emblazoned into the very walls of the chamber. The shapes looked like they'd been burnt into the wood, creating images of what looked like changed Karkadda, some of them portrait-like sketches from the shoulders up, others showing full bodies in motion. Symbols he didn't recognise filled the spaces between them in great curling arcs.

"See anything you like?" someone said.

Luke's attention shifted sharply. Kasper came to a halt, looking back at him expectantly and indicating the speaker with a nod of his head. Oaklynn stopped alongside him, fingers fidgeting nervously in front of her and her eyes downcast. Breathing deep through his nose, he looked straight ahead.

On a slightly raised platform that dominated one wall of the chamber a woman sat on what could only be described as a throne.

It was made of a wood so dark it was almost black, and lavishly carved, its back rising a full foot above her head, surmounted with a circular insignia that looked something like a clover leaf. The figure sitting on it was no less impressive.

She was in her late thirties, he guessed, with a mound of glossy ink-dark hair that was combed back from her forehead, rising a few inches before forming thick braids that cascaded over her shoulders and down either side of her chest. An expression of mild interest tingled on the soft lines of her pale, weathered face, eyes of a deep evergreen examining him from head to toe. Despite the throne and the apparent ceremony of the room her clothes struck him as pretty normal – a pair of jeans, thick hiking boots, a long, dark coat that lay open to reveal a black tank top.

"My name is Gallie. Gallie Parwood," she said, speaking with a cheerfulness he hadn't expected. He couldn't place the accent; her voice was on some kind of walking tour of South Africa via Brooklyn as far as he could make out. "And you are Luke Arbor."

"That's me." Luke glanced left at right at his chaperones but they stood silent; statuesque.

"I assume they have explained who I am?"

"You're the... Mahar."

"And you understand what that means?"

"It means you're in charge?"

"That's correct." Gallie regarded him for a moment, still looking at him as though he were some kind of odd specimen. "You understand that people like you are not often invited here?"

He nodded nervously, words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. "It's a nice place you have out here. Very... homey."

The Mahar smirked in amusement. "We're not savages. Were you expecting fire circles, drums and human sacrifice?"

"No, no, I... err," Luke blundered into the sentence. "I guess I didn't know what to expect. This is all pretty outside my comfort zone."

"You and most other humans." Her smile broadened. "Though I have to say, you appear to be handling this better than most."

"Thanks. I think."

"Don't thank me yet." Gallie rose out of the dark-wood throne with the grace of a goddess, her movements unnaturally smooth. "I'm afraid you've brought an awful lot of problems here with you, Luke Arbor. Problems that I will now have to deal with."

Before he could reply he felt the air shimmer. Without thinking he took a step back as the Mahar drew herself up to her full height, light boiling beneath her skin. She seemed to fill the room in an instant, invisible energy sloughing off her in great avalanches, enough to make his head swim. Then in a jerking, sudden motion, she flexed her neck, twisting her head from side to side.

The transformation happened with frightening speed, much faster than Oaklynn's demonstration. One minute Gallie Parwood stood there, an intimidating individual but a human being by all appearances. The next he felt like a demon had walked straight out of hell to claim him. Her horn speared up several inches higher than the others he'd seen, crackling violently with destructive energy. The spurs of bone lining her body looked older, tougher and sharper, giving her round face a sudden angular quality. The inferno of her eyes enveloped him as she took a step forward, her body gleaming with pure white light that drowned the room.

Beside him even Oaklynn shielded her eyes and he blinked, trying to refocus. Gallie approached until she stood barely a meter away from him, but he held his ground, something in the back of his mind telling him not to move a muscle. If he wanted these people to take him seriously he needed to show he could handle it.

She put that right to the test. Every instinct told him to back away, screaming that if he stood in that glow for too long he would be immolated into nothingness. Shuddering that thought away, he swallowed hard and straightened up, trying to meet her gaze. After just a few seconds his eyes began to sting and he couldn't keep it up, having to blink and look away.

"So it's true," Gallie murmured, her voice taking on a strange, echoey detachment, as if it was coming from all around him. Her burning stare flashed to Oaklynn, a flare of red passing across her face in that instant. "Our rules exist for a reason, but it appears you are intent on violating even the most basic of them."

He glanced over and saw Oaklynn bristling at that, though she determinedly kept her eyes rooted to the floorboards.

The glare that had filled the room suddenly faded away and he turned back to find Gallie had reverted to her human form. Even without the change she looked formidable, standing a few inches taller than him, a lithe, powerful frame easy to discern through her clothes. She clasped her hands behind her back, shaking her head grimly.

"Quite a predicament," the Mahar sighed. "The simplest thing would be to dispose of you ourselves and be done with this."

Crimson light erupted from Luke's right and he flinched as Oaklynn transformed beside him, taking a step forward with a growl. Mercy caught her by the arm and tried to yank her back, but Oaklynn shook her violently away.

"You do that and you'll have to kill us both," she snarled.

Gallie raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

"Woah, woah," Luke shouted, raising his hands and looking around in horror. "When did this escalate to anybody killing anybody?!" He turned and grabbed Oaklynn's hand. "Just take it easy, alright."

With an effort she relented, allowing the Karkadda visage to slide back beneath her skin, but she kept a dagger-sharp glare fixed on the Mahar. Taking a tentative step away from her, Luke turned back to Gallie, acutely aware of just how fast his heart was beating now.

"I don't think you had your people drag me all the way out here to do what your poacher friends were already going to," he told her. "And I definitely didn't come out here to cause trouble, so maybe we can all wind back a few reels and you can tell me what you want?"

"Fortunately, I like to think people can be reasoned with," Gallie replied, fixing him with an expectant look. "Let's see if you prove me right. I think you're well aware that you knowing the truth about us is a problem."

Nerves sent an inappropriate smile sliding across Luke's face. "I can problem solve. Always been good at it."

"I'm glad to hear it." She nodded. "This shouldn't be to complicated then. I'm going to lay out some conditions for you, Luke. If you accept them we'll send you back to your life, no harm done."

"I'm listening."

"You will not speak of anything you've seen," Gallie said firmly. "Not to your friends, not to your family, not to your professors and especially not to our good sheriff."

Luke nodded quickly. "Yeah, of course. I wouldn't ever-,"

"You will also no longer see Oaklynn," she continued over him. "Outside of any classes that you may have together you will remain apart. You will stay away from all Karkadda that you are aware of and go about your life – your human life – as normal."

"But-,"

"By showing you who she really is she has violated the most important rule that keeps our people safe. By..." She made an awkward gesture to them both with one hand, "dating you, she has violated another. Human and Karkadda do not mix. This stops now."

A kernel of impotent anger burned in the back of his mind, but Luke could tell that nothing he said would make any difference to the Mahar's conditions. This was not a conversation. She looked at him expectantly. He chanced a brief glance at Oaklynn, a feeling of helplessness hollowing out his heart.

"Luke, I would like you to tell me that you understand."

"I..." Luke felt his voice shaking violently, battling to get his emotions under control. He didn't have a choice and he knew it. The words felt like acid on his tongue as he forced them out. "I understand."

"Good."

"Mahar," Oaklynn began. "Please, you don't have to-,"

"And as for you," Gallie snapped, cutting off Oaklynn's objection. "We have tolerated your free spirit for long enough. I don't care who you are or where you came from. Outsiders have joined our herd before without throwing our most sacred laws onto a bonfire. Your friend, Mercy," she inclined her head to the other Karkadda, "came to us three years ago – herdless, alone. Now she has purpose; a family. Given time we will do the same for you."

"What if I don't want that from you?" Oaklynn said, though the defiant embers had been extinguished from her voice now.

"Then you can leave Lasquette Bay and never come back." The uncurrent of threat in the Mahar's voice sent a chill up Luke's spine. "That is one choice I will leave open. Otherwise, you will abide by our laws. Do you understand?"

A crackling silence filled the air between them. Oaklynn's shoulders hunched, her whole body wound tight like an iron cord. Luke could feel her emotions, all the rage, despair and devastation crashing out against him as though she couldn't hold it in. Light shimmered beneath her skin in reds, blues and whites as she battled to contain herself. But the Mahar was finished waiting. When she spoke again her words were cold with warning.

"Oaklynn, I assure you, there is a right answer to this question."

"I understand." It was barely a whisper, but Oaklynn couldn't fight it any longer. Once those two words left her lips her shoulders sagged, as though someone had cut her puppet strings and left her limp.

"Good. Then I believe our business is settled here. Luke, it is time for you to leave."

He couldn't make himself move. His feet wouldn't respond. Every piece of him knew that if he turned around and walked away now any future he had with Oaklynn was over. Those same pieces also knew that he was powerless to do anything about it. The result left him paralysed, stuck in place facing the Mahar's stare. She sighed, looking from one to the other.

"I can see you're infatuated with each other," Gallie told them, her voice as solid as a dam. "That can make young people do very stupid things, so I'm going to make this simple." She stepped closer, fire rising in her eyes as she spoke. "We will be watching. If either of you defy me, I promise it will be the last thing you do."