Pyrik clung onto Ira like wet clothes while the arachne girl lept from tree to tree, toward the settlement. The night made the forest floor look bottomless, and there was a cacophony of breaking branches as though a tide swept through. In the scant moonlight, she saw it was a pack of spiky, chitin-plated insectoids skittering on many limbs.

“How did the settlers avoid getting attacked by insectoids until recently?” Pyrik asked.

“Our home, the red forest, used to be in a state of balance. The insectoids lived underground, where they fed on the sugary sap secreted from the tree roots. It is only at night when the males scuttle out of its colony, in search of prey that may have wandered into the forest to offer the females. That was when we hunted them, only for its chitin to craft our weapons and tools though. Our kind mainly subsist on the fruit from the treetops. There was plenty back then... until the settlers came.” Her bubbly voice popped, giving way to somber contemplation. “They felled our trees to build their houses, to raise their walls to protect their homes, and to make way for their fields. The settlers had no way of knowing that chopping down those trees took away the nourishing sap from the insectoids, and the fruits from us.”

“And that’s why the insectoids took to raiding the settlers at night…” Pyrik realized.

Ira nodded gravely. “The loss was great. The red forest used to be larger, you know. Our elders used to call it a sea of red trees when they stood atop the canopy. Frequently I wonder what that may look like…”

Pyrik and Ira stopped at the forest line while the insectoids continued charging toward the settlement. The bell from the Common House was clanging. The Hospitallers appeared like ants from her vantage point as they scrambled to get themselves organized as orders were hurled in every direction.

“Our people,” continued Ira, “we tried to warn the settlers. We earnestly did, I swear. The loss of more trees would eventually force the insectoids to hunt outside of the forest, and our village was starting to dwindle because our mother was producing fewer eggs. They were picking berries at the forest line, and we meant them no harm when we approached… I suppose all beasts look the same to them. The misunderstanding came to blows, and bodies were hauled away on both sides.”

“I’m sorry,” Pyrik apologized. It felt like the right thing to do.

“As much as I’d love to travel the world, I love my home just as much. Will you help me find a way to save my home?”

The insectoids were scrambling up the tall palisade, ravenous, hungry. The unmistakable voice of Cutter, small yet sharp from far away, cleaved through the night as he readied his men.

We’re all the same—Pyrik brushed her thumb along the blade of her axe—fighting for survival.

“I promise,” Pyrik said.

“Thank you…”

The insectoids clambered over the palisade and a moment later, a volley of shots ripped through the noise. Pyrik buttoned up her collar, and checked that powder was in the pan of the blunderbuss. The night raid had finally commenced.

***

The pandemonium masked the noise of Pyrik swinging her axe. She chopped out an entryway large enough to fit through and clawed her way into the settlement.

At the Common House, the Hospitallers were engaged with the insectoids, plunging bayonet-tipped rifles into the wave of insectoids that attempted to scrabble over the barricade. Too preoccupied to notice her, Pyrik went undetected as she hurried to the butcher shop. Its door burst open when she kicked it in. Inside, she scanned the place as she tried to recollect the location of the journal.

I know the journal is in here. The witch confirmed as much.

Papers scattered over the floor as she searched the table, remembering that he was writing something into a book when she was previously in the butcher shop. When she found nothing, next were the drawers. She turned each drawer inside out until—one was locked.

This could be it!

Pyrik aimed her blunderbuss at the lock, decided against it, then hefted up her axe and smashed the head down. The lock popped off, clattered broken on the floor. She tore open the drawer and there, bound in worn leather, Haldane’s journal.

Pages flipped rapidly as she skimmed through the journal, looking for that crucial something to prove his guilt. Pyrik imagined that it was something horrible, yet when she found that damning page, the horrors that were scribed on paper went far beyond her wildest nightmares. Vomit crept up her throat, and she swallowed to force it down. She glanced at the dissected body, Ellie’s mother, feeling sorrow for the little girl.

I’ll avenge you, ma’am, you have my word.

To do that though, Pyrik had to get into the Common House. She peered over the corner of a house, looking for a way in as she changed out of her long coat for a hooded overcoat she found in one of the houses, which smelled rusty with old blood.

I suppose it'll have to do.

An insectoid managed to clamber over the barricade and was wreaking havoc among the Hospitallers, drawing a number of them away from the south perimeter, creating an opening. Seizing the opportunity, Pyrik put on an armet, slapped down the visor, and with the journal tucked under her arm, she dashed over to the Common House.

Breathing in the armet felt stuffy despite the vent-tails in the visor, and vision was terribly narrow through the occularim. Pyrik had to resist tearing the helmet off her head as she vaulted over the barricade, then slammed her fist on the double door repeatedly.

“Let me in,” Pyrik shouted in the lowest voice that she could muster from the bottom of her stomach. “I have an urgent message for Captain Cutter.”

A worry fleeted through her mind. The commotion was so loud, she wondered if anybody inside heard her at all. However, a second later, the double door cracked open and a settler said, “quick, get inside!”

Oh praise, it worked.

The settler slammed the double doors immediately after she ducked in. Her hand crept up to open the visor, when Pyrik stopped upon glancing at Menov, who was standing guard at the stairway to the basement with another conspirator of Haldane. Reluctantly, the visor was left down, and keeping the journal close and hidden in the overcoat, she calmly strode up the stairs. Among the injured that laid on their cots could be another conspirator.

Captain Cutter was at a window, ramrod in hand, forcing down a lead ball into the throat of his rifle. He was cocking the hammer back when he whipped his head to Pyrik, who had opened the visor.

“What the… Jaeger? How… why are you… I thought you died,” Cutter said.

“Is that what Haldane told you?” Pyrik asked.

Cutter narrowed his eyes. “Yes, he did.”

“I’m sorry but he lied to you, Cutter.” Pyrik presented him with Haldane's journal. “Haldane used many of the settlers to study the insectoid disease, even tried to kill me to study my natural immunity.”

Without hesitation, he took the journal and flipped through its contents. With each passing page, a grim look gradually poisoned his expression until finally, sickened, he closed the journal.

“That bastard,” Cutter said while he checked his pistol for a shot. “I always suspected that this disease had no latent potential.” He glanced out of the window, then down at the first floor. Leaning in, he whispered to Pyrik, “Will you come with me? I can’t recruit any of my men from the battle, or else I risk losing the element of surprise.”

“On one condition.”

“Don’t worry. Once this debacle with Haldane and the red forest is over, you’ll have your payment in full.”

“No, that’s not it.”

“On what condition then?”

“That you won’t burn down the red forest.”

Cutter stared at Pyrik. "Is that so?"

“I want your word, Cutter. Or else I’ll shout down below to let know of your intentions.”

The captain smirked. “No, you wouldn’t dare.”

“You don’t think I will?”

“There are children in the Common House. Any fighting in here would result in collateral damage. So, unless you are willing to take the risk, then go ahead: shout away.” Cutter gestured to railing. And when Pyrik remained in place, reluctant to go through on her threat, he said, “Shut that visor and follow me.”

Yet Pyrik was steadfast, refusing to follow. “Where do you think the arrows came from, Cutter? From thin air? The ether? There are inhabitants in the red forest, and I don’t mean insectoids. Arachne, intelligent humanoid beasts, willing to annihilate everyone in defense of their home. Your men, these settlers, many will die. Are you willing to take that risk?” And when Cutter did not respond, she continued. “The arachne, the settlers, all they want is to save their homes. The real enemy is the insectoids. So please, the forest doesn’t need to burn. We can work together to defeat the enemy.”

Pyrik watched as Cutter polished the pommel of his saber, looking grave as a golgotha. “The last time that I tried to save everyone was at the Arklays, and despite our finest machinations, there was always a price, always some unavoidable losses. You can see why I’d rather burn down the forest to save everyone here than risk more losses.”

Cutter tried to sidestep Pyrik to carry out the arrest himself, however, she blocked his way. “I don’t know what threats you faced in the Arklay, and do I know what things you had to do to survive. But, I do know that where there was no other way in the Arklays, there is one here. The insectoids are no longer an enemy unknown, the arachne hunt those beasts all their lives. With their help, and I can convince them, the insectoids can be eliminated without setting fire to the forest. All you have to do is talk with one of them, and you will know.”

A conflict was waged on the face of the captain. He shut his eyes, squeezing them for every last drop of wisdom. When his eyelids opened, a conclusion was made. A sigh was breathed out. “I’ll parley, but if I’m not convinced I’ll have no other choice.”

Pyrik closed the visor. “That’s all I ask.”

Having arrived at a mutual agreement, Cutter and Pyrik went to confront the conspirators. As they traveled down the stairs, Pyrik noticed that none were on the first floor other than Menov and another Hospitaller guarding the basement stairway. Menov made eye contact with them, and a shock of panic jolted in her chest. Pyrik was worried that Menov might suspect their intentions, however, Cutter did not regard her any attention and continued on their course.

“Captain,” Menov said. “Comrade,” she said to Pyrik, conceding a knowing smile.

“Where’s Haldane?” Cutter asked.

“In the basement.”

"And the others?"

"There as well."

The Hospitaller next to Menov glanced warily at her, then at Cutter who flicked his gaze at him.

An unspoken intent of violence was exchanged, and the Hospitaller went for his pistol. Pyrik was drawing her bayonet, when blood burst out of his mouth as a blade flashed into his throat. He grasped at the wristblade in his neck, gagging on his own blood, looking to collapse, but Menov kept him upright and swiftly pulled him into the basement, rousing no suspicion as the battle continued in the Common House.

Menov nodded into the basement, her arms filled with the slackened Hospitaller. “Are you going to stand and watch, or will you help me with this ton of flesh?”