Cassidy nodded, though turned to hide his smile, laugh nearly leaped free of him. "You're quiet clever, Bryn," he turned to the boy, "and I can't think of anyone better to have an adventure with."

Dark eyes widened, smile broad, but they fell, and tears sprang, "I don't want to be a burden to you, Cass. I'll only—"

"Bryn," the bounty hunter put a hand on his shoulder, "you're a crafty boy, and you'll make a fine law man, someday. But, you can never quit before you start, no matter what anybody says.

Sharp ring of bells battered the air. Somewhere a woman screamed. Footfalls filled the other halls of Thorncrown, and across the courtyard Cassidy watched as light winked out. There came a feeling, nebulous yet powerful, when he stood upon the edge of death. Every moment in the brig of the Confederates was precariously balanced, life and death separated by a whisper. Knowledge of life, its fragility, became intimate, and he trusted well-honed instincts. Upon his fellow Union soldiers, murder or torture could ensue, and would come for no reason at all. Death was fair, because the act was without prejudice.

At the opposite end, the nurse ushered people to bed. "We're leaving Bryn," Cassidy dropped low, "so lead the way."

Being young with a heart for adventure, the boy had an explored much of the hospital. Too weak to walk bound to the wheelchair, the staff of Thorncrown left him alone through the daylight hours. Very few places were beyond his new mode of conveyance. One of his favorites was the storage room, where they consigned personal effects. Only wishing to see, nothing was ever taken. Even though they ignored him, Bryn found them creepy, so avoided their gazes. The room made for a private spot to read. To his chagrin and awe, Cassidy passed the staff without being seen.

At the door, their progress was finally halted. "Hold on," said the lad, who pried a key from a secret spot on his chair. Seeing Cassidy's regard, he blushed, "They caught me inside, so tried to lock me out."

Both moved inside, and the room's size halted him. Although Thorncrown was indeed large, this amount of storage space seemed excessive. About the room he moved, as Bryn went for his belongings. Everything was marked, stored, though none of it was clothing. Some came with next to nothing, some had their whole life. "Did they just leave their property, or did they just forget?" considered Cassidy. Everything of a valuable nature was kept with its owner's other personal items; yet, they were marked with a special symbol. "Curious," he remarked, "why bother at all, if you're not going to steal it?"

In a corner, a place was set aside for strange artifacts. The table had many drawers filled with notes, and atop it, at the center, was a large vase made by very primitive hands. Around it was painted pictures, simple expressions, which told a story. Rotated around in his hands, Cassidy saw a person, some form of shaman, entering a sort of holy ritual. At what cost or ends, it was uncertain to the bounty hunter.

"It came from the cave," said the boy with a shrug, "It passes through to the lake itself. I've read the notes, boring. Your books are much better! For doctors, they're writing leaves much to be desired."

"They seemed awfully interested in it," Cassidy said, and studied the items, most ready to fall to dust."

The click of the lock was brisk, and echoed through the chamber. Cassidy took his articles, and quickly checked all his supplies. They hid, and the nurse, who'd strapped down the bounty hunter, turned to a doctor.

"Huck wants all the supplies to be secured," she stomped a foot. "We have a good thing here!"

"We had a good game," he licked his lips, "but it is time to move on. Laetitia and that THING saw to that. We'll reap the entire crop, store all we can, and move on fast." He smiled, and for a moment, Cassidy saws the gleam of long incisors.

"Our number have grown," she shook in fury, "surely, we can fight off Lady Nuit!"

"You're a fool," sneered the doctor, "even if we were united, she would crush us. Huck stole her formula. We will be lucky, if she just kills us!" Out into the hall he stepped with a laugh of contempt reserved for the most ignorant. The nurse huffed but followed.

Bryn paused, listened, and heard them move away. "I told you! They're monsters, who want to suck our blood!" he thrummed.

"They're charlatans, sure," the bounty hunter walked slowly, "but there is nothing supernatural about human depravity, just disappointing."

Again, the bells began to ring, but they grew manic in their notes. It stopped with a wet ding. Cassidy stepped to the window. Silhouetted in torchlight was a broad figure. With no effort it tossed something, mangled and broken, from the top. Crunch of it landing was soggy. To the large bell it turned, tore it from the housing, and it joined the broken staff member in the courtyard. The bounty hunter marked it, before the brute faded back into the heavy mist. Cassidy shook his head.

Bryn led him out through a little used door. In the courtyard, smothered by the warm fog, all light was mere alabaster glow. Each breath soothed the chest, and Cassidy felt a little clearer in the head. Taste of blood seeped onto the tongue, and shiver of arctic cold trailed the skin. Footfalls filled the world, bounced about the stones. Cassidy walked beside the boy, but kept one hand on his chair. Bestial growls lingered between the sane isles of flames' light.

A door burst open, somewhere in the fog, and patients ran out into the courtyard. Pin pricks of hellfire-red traced the air, lingered on the vision. Figures lurched, gone soon as seen. At the tip of the eye's precarious perception taunted the savage form. Fierce hunger turned growls into hellish pleas. They swarmed with a chorus of the damned upon the escapees. Grotesque were there screams of pain, but blessedly brief. Over the lad's mouth, the bounty hunter held his hand, and he shook his head. Bryn's dark eyes were wide, mouth worked in horror, but to Cassidy's proud admiration, he stilled.