Matt turned slowly to face the fearful sight, awkwardly holding the spear in both hands across his body and behind Lara’s back, point presented toward the immense stationary reptile. The only movement was a black tongue, flickering in and out of the gap between upper and lower jaws. Tasting the air, Matt recalled from one of the many David Attenborough wildlife programs he had enjoyed over the years.

  Not daring to move for fear of provoking an aggressive response, Matt’s eyes ran over the snake’s body. He was aware that only two snake species were native to the UK but didn’t know enough about either to know the origin of this monstrous new variant. A dark zig-zag pattern ran down it’s back, the body easily a foot across in places where it bulged out, shrinking down to about eight inches across elsewhere. He could see about the front ten feet at the moment, but the rest of the body extended through a door into the kitchen area and there was no way to tell how long it might be.

  Here and there, tatters of shedding skin clung on to fresh new scales, matching the fluttering remnants littering the floor and around the outside of the house. His eyes moved up to the beast’s head, noting the scarily long fangs as the beast lazily opened its mouth briefly. He saw its eyes, matt black and deep as a dark ocean. With a strange sense of detachment, he saw the head remaining stationary, but the body inching forward, positioning for a strike. Some hidden sense inside shouted for his attention, and with a start he shook himself from the brief stupor, raising the point of the spear which had sagged toward the floor.

  Seeing his reaction, the snake let out a hiss which seemed to convey anger or frustration. Was this a new method of hunting? Matt wondered. Snakes had many stories about the hypnotic nature of their movement – maybe the Event that had caused so many incredible changes and accelerated the growth of this specimen… maybe it had also bestowed some of that mythos into the gaze. Had he not shaken it off – how did I do that? – he might have stood there and doomed both he and his helpless passenger to a terrible fate.

  Slowly, he slid his back foot away from the snake and toward the front door. A soft rasping noise shivered his spine as the serpent matched his pace. Careful not to meet its gaze, he nevertheless did not take his eyes off it as he shuffled his way toward the shattered exit. As if sensing the prey trying to escape, with a sudden movement that had Matt jerkily stab his spear out, the snake brought forward a long coil of its body from the back of the house, the head now hovering just below the ceiling, held aloft by the patterned and muscled scaly column, leaning back slightly as it regarded the intruder into its domain.

  Holding his spear forward with a single trembling hand, Matt reached into his pocket with the other, focusing on the snake as he retrieved the patch within. Taking a final shuffling step backward he was right on the threshold, and he slowly moved his hand to the remaining vertical column of the broken door, pressing the rough cloth firmly onto it.

  The snake slowly brought another coil forward; head held back but still only a few feet outside the reach of the improvised pointy stick. Desperately, Matt threw the spear forward, not in any real hope of dealing a mortal blow, but in a hopeless hope of distracting the beast for just long enough. As the monstrous head shot forward and jaws snapped shut on the wooden shaft, splintering it completely, Matt spun and leaped out the door slapping his hand onto the frame as he passed through.

  Right onto the red-tinged patch he had pressed there moments before.

  As the snake reared back, letting fall splinters of curtain rail, Matt sprinted – or the closest possible approximation of sprinting when carrying an unconscious child - out of the house and simultaneously a roaring inferno erupted out of the patch and straight down the hallway, bathing the snake’s coils in ravaging flames. Matt gripped Lara tight to him as he ran to his bike, awkwardly mounted and started pedalling for both their lives.

  He didn’t look back as the rushing sound of the flame abruptly faded, ceasing to drown out a furious hissing and an endless series of thumps and crashes. He envisaged the thick, muscled coils slamming from wall to wall in agony and uttered a heartfelt prayer to any deity that might be listening that he had done enough to ward off the monstrous pursuit.

  If that doesn’t stop it, there’s no way I can outrun or fight it.

  . He had to stay more upright than was optimal, to prevent Lara’s head from flopping backward, and he dared not take a hand off the grips to hold her steady. He decided to assume that the beast would chase him for revenge and bent all his energy and will to keeping his legs pumping like a high-energy spinning class.

  A form swooped out of the sky from his side, and he yelped, barely controlling a reflexive swerve, before recognising the surprisingly aerodynamic Oswald. True to his word and despite his cuddly proportions, the tiny dragon was obviously no slouch in the open air, easily keeping pace with his frantic pace.

  “Magnificently done sir!” The very formal tones declared joyously. “Truly your valiant actions should be celebrated in song and told all across this land, as a shining example to all budding heroes!”

  Matt grunted, not trusting his increasingly laboured breathing to get out a coherent response. Now travelling at a respectable speed despite the awkwardness of his passenger, he kept a wary eye out as he passed the station, groaning as the burn tightened his leg muscles at the slight incline leading up to the road bridge across the tracks.

  He didn’t remember too much about the rest of the journey, just the pain in his legs and growing stitch in his side. Familiar streets blurred together, and his vision was locked on the road ahead of him.

  Left leg, right leg, left leg, right leg….

  Maybe revived by the movement, or fresher air than she had known for several days, but Lara made occasional moans, as if stuck in a nightmare. She pretty much is, after all she has been through, Matt thought.

  Left leg, right leg, left leg, right leg…

  He was vaguely aware of voices, his legs faltering with no more to give. Hands reaching out to catch him and Lara as he toppled sideways, light fading into blackness and he knew no more.

  Alan and Kira were watching outside the Brands’ house, anxiously awaiting Matt’s return. Arlee was inside, shakily retelling the story of their arachnid ambushers at the station while Carry heated up some water for tea on an old camping stove. She shuddered at the story, spiders in general being one of her most disliked creepy crawlies. Hearing about their size, their victims and their unique new way of disabling their prey put them on a whole new level of ick.

  Even though they were all aware of the plan, being separated was no longer the formality it always had been. Gone were the days of popping around the corner for a pint of milk, leisurely walks through the local woods, and kicking a ball around in the park. They were acutely aware of the potential for unknown disaster, and Arlee berated herself for going along with the idea in the first place.

  “He’s coming!” They heard Kira’s excited cry through the open door, and they hurried through the house, relief flooding through them. Arriving at the front door, they saw Matt pulling up over the last few yards.

  “That doesn’t look good.” Alan remarked as a haggard Matt struggled toward them, his passenger now clear as the bike wobbled from side to side. “Kira, eyes on the sky – now!”

  He moved forward, hailing Matt and reaching out as the bike slowed.

  “Easy mate, I’ve got you. You can stop. Stop Matt!” He spoke urgently as Matt’s leg’s continued to pump, grabbing the handlebars and gripping the brakes. Seeing the state that Matt and Lara were in, he pulled both toward him and gritted his teeth as he took the weight of them both and lowered them sideways toward the ground.

  “Carry, get over here! Kira – eyes on the sky!” He roared, shaking the girl from her wide-eyed shock at the sight of her best friend. “Arlee, clear the cats off the sofa now!”

  Tearing at the knotted cloths tying the two together, he swore and pulled out a pocketknife, flicking open a blade and slicing through the rough bindings, releasing Lara to flop away from Matt to lie still on the ground.

  “Keep an eye on Matt, I’ll take Lara in and then come get him.” Alan ordered, raising the young girl in his arms and disappearing through the front door. Carry hurried forward, opening a small bottle of water as she knelt down by the mumbling cyclist, who was drenched in sweat and had a nasty scorch mark on one thigh. Pouring a small stream into her hand, she wiped Matt’s face clear and looked around anxiously for Alan.

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  Her man swiftly emerged from the house and wasted no time in untangling Matt’s legs from the cycle, then hoisting him over a shoulder and walking heavily into the house. Turning straight into the front room, he took care in lowering Matt to the carpeted floor, close to where Arlee was kneeling next to the sofa Lara lay on, eyes closed and unresponsive. He grabbed a cushion to put under Matt’s head and stood, stretching his back as Carry bustled into the room and took charge.

  “Kira, I know you want to stay with Lara, but I need your help right now to make sure she gets better. Go to the kitchen, grab all the towels you can find and bring them and the water bucket – the one with the patch – back here.” She said authoritatively. “Now please love.”

  Kira reluctantly released Lara’s hand and backed out of the room, stricken eyes locked on her friend’s recumbent form.

  “Arlee, get one of the tins of soup – nothing lumpy – and get it going on the camping stove. She’s malnourished and we need to get something into her to give her body energy back. Mix some sugar into a bottle of water and bring that here too.” Arlee nodded jerkily and hurried through to the kitchen.

  “Alan, check Matt over for injuries. From the state of him, it looks like plain exhaustion, but let’s not take chances, eh? Get some of the sugar water into him when Arlee comes back as well.”

  As Alan carefully looked over Matt’s form, Carry turned back to Lara. She was breathing shallowly, as if in a deep sleep, but her face told a story of anything but peaceful repose. Twisted in anguish, shadows around her eyes and sunken cheeks clearly showed her malnourishment. Until she woke up, they would only be able to feed her liquids, and the soup and sugar water would start the job of replacing her energy reserves.

  Kira waddled into the room, burdened down by the heavy bucket which was not quite full of water, and with a bundle of towels under one arm. Putting down her load, she hurried back to the sofa, where she hovered anxiously over her friend. Carry wet one of the towels and started gently wiping Lara’s face and exposed arms, cleaning the angry scrapes around her wrist.

  “Get my medical bag please Kira, I need to look after this and it’s going septic.” Carry kept her focus on her patient, only looking up a few seconds later when she realised that Kira had not moved, tears rolling down her face as she regarded the comatose girl.

  “Kira? My medical bag, now please. It’s on the chair in the kitchen.”

  “Why did Dad only bring her? Why isn’t she with her family, or why didn’t they come here?” Kira’s voice was on the edge of panic, as she stood, wringing her hands relentlessly. Carry stood and moved to her side, taking her hand and cupping the girl’s chin in the other.

  “I don’t know love, but right now we need to deal with what’s in front of us, not what we don’t know about. She has hurt her wrist, and it looks infected, so I need my medical bag now, okay?” Carry’s voice was level, compassionate and it snapped Kira back to the moment. She nodded and left the room once more, wiping her eyes.

  The group busied themselves around the pair of invalids, taking turns to give them some unknowing privacy for rough flannel washes, as both their clothes were soaked with Matt’s sweat from the exertion of the ride home. They recovered some of Kira’s spare clothes from across the road and dressed Lara in some pyjamas.

  An hour or so later as the afternoon sun was fading into the evening, Matt roused from his exhausted slumber, coming awake with a start and making Kira yelp in surprise from where she watched over Lara, flanked by Oli and Nala. Lying back, Matt asked for some water as the others hurried into the room, gathering around him.

  “What happened mate?” Alan asked, once Matt had sipped down some water and recovered from a brief coughing fit. He winced at the tight burning in his legs, moving them around to try and find a comfortable position, before giving up and accepting the ache.

  He spent some time describing what he had seen, the encounter with the snake and the panicked bike ride home. The others stared in silence, tears welling up from Arlee and Kira as he described what Oswald had told him about the family’s fate. Carry and Alan hadn’t known Lara’s family well but were still taken aback by the violence of the attack and the resulting aftermath.

  “Wait – did you say dragon?” Carry asked, incredulously. “Are you sure?”

  Matt smiled weakly and continued. “I thought I was going crazy as well, but my guess is that Lara was holding it… him when the Event hit, and it somehow brought him to life, maybe? That’s no more far-fetched really than a bag that can carry unlimited loads and a magical first-aid kit that heals injuries overnight.”

  He looked around, seeing no sign of the formal plushy reptile. “Did he make it back with us?”

  “I didn’t see anything flying mate, but I was pretty focused on you and the young’un, so I might have missed it.” Alan looked out the window thoughtfully. “If it only knows you, Lara and Kira, it might be hiding rather than bumping into a bunch of strangers.”

  He turned to Kira, nodding toward the door. “Come on youngster, let’s take a look outside and see if we can see any dragons. Maybe if we call your name out, it’ll come out to say hi.”

  As the pair left the room, cats in tow, Carry turned back to Matt. “How are you feeling now? We were worried there that you might have been hurt, but we couldn’t see any obvious injuries.”

  He gave a tired smile. “Yes, I noticed that I seemed to have been thoroughly checked over. Don’t worry, I won’t tell Al.” He said with what would have been a naughty wink if he hadn’t looked so totally exhausted. Carry and Arlee looked shocked for a moment, before laughing and playfully swatting his arms in admonishment.

  “My legs feel like jelly – worse than any pre-season training I can remember. I think after the stress of meeting those monsters and how badly both could have gone, I just needed a break from everything to get my head straight. My thigh hurts, but I can’t figure out what from.”

  Carry nodded agreement. “That was my thought as well. We don’t know anywhere near to everything about the human body, but is does have various built-in mechanisms for recovery from traumatic experiences. We saw it quite often at the hospital. Your leg had a nasty burn on it, but I’ve salved it up and left it to air – that will help it heal faster. You must have caught it with the fire before you ran past it.”

  “How is Lara?” Matt enquired, glancing over to where she lay, lying more comfortably with a fresh bandage around her wrist.

  “We’ve done what we can for now, got some fluids and sugar into her, so it’s just a case of when her body decides to let her wake up.” She paused, choosing her next words. “If she wakes up.”

  At Matt and Arlee’s shocked expressions, she continued. “She’s just been through probably the worst experience anyone her age has experienced, losing her family and being trapped with no food and water. Younger minds don’t have the experience to process that kind of trauma effectively, so there are cases where the mind just… runs away and hides from the hurt. Usually they can come back, but some never do.” She sighed and laid a gentle hand on Lara’s forehead.

  Alan and Kira re-entered the house and informed them that there was no sign of Oswald, no matter how much they had called and searched. Matt resolved to pick up the search tomorrow morning, after rest and recuperation.

  “You can stay here tonight if you like – in fact, I think that might be best.” Carry said. “I don’t want to move Lara, and if she recovers enough to wake up, she doesn’t know us well enough, so you should all be about to keep her reassured. She’s going to need a huge amount of support to get through this. She’s welcome to stay here, of course. Does she like cats?”

  “She can stay in my room with me.” Kira said firmly, before anyone else had a chance to speak. "There’s enough space for the inflatable mattress and she knows me best. That will help her get better faster.”

  Her parents looked at each other, then back to their daughter, nodding their agreement. Kira’s small room would become cramped quite quickly with two pre-teens in, but there was plenty of other space around the house which could be re-purposed into a new bedroom if necessary. The most important priority was helping Lara recover and being around her best friend would make that a smoother process.

  With the daylight fading Carry went around lighting some candles, and Matt handed over the Light patch he had been saving for the Wrens. He attached it to a random vase, which could be moved around as light was needed and was currently making a hot dinner possible. Arlee was assisting Carry in this endeavour, cooking together as they often did. This was less a continuation of patriarchal sexism, and more a recognition of how an edible meal might be possible. Matt was an indifferent cook, fine if you wanted a fry-up or lasagne but without the patience to develop all round culinary skills. Alan was a kitchen catastrophe in human form – trusted with the toaster and microwave, but little else if a huge mess wasn't your final objective.

  'He Who Should Not Cook' mumbled something about checking around the house, picked up his stick and headed back out to the front, where Matt could see him picking up the discarded bike and then heard the garage door open and close. Kira sat down by the sofa and picked up the encyclopaedia, digging into the unending information contained within. Matt settled back to rest, before rolling painfully onto his side and facing his daughter.

  "Kira, how did you do looking into the stuff I asked about? Focus, expression, arcanic?"

  She looked up from her reading, then reached to the side of the sofa and pulled a couple of sheets of paper from a shelf, handing them over wordlessly before burying her nose back into the thick book. Matt thanked her and rolled onto his back – the position in which his legs complained the least – and then read through the notes she had transcribed for him.

  "A Focus (plural: foci) is any object imbued with one or more forms of essence, as a repository of energy. The magnitude of energy available to express essence is dependent on the material quality used in construction of the focus and the degree of power available from attuned loci."

  One or more forms of essence… Matt thought as he read and re-read. That sounds like I can combine multiple things into one patch – that could be… wow! There would be so many combinations to try out.

  He considered this for a few moments, envisaging potential effects from combining different materials. Remembering the notes Kira had made about the improvements to mental clarity after attuning with loci, he wondered what impact this would have on the creative process. Particularly his early attempts to work with flame had not gone well until he had attained a sufficiently focused state of concentration, and it was likely that working with multiple essences would strain this focus even more.

  Looking back to the page of notes, he squinted against bleary eyes, fatigue catching up with him once more. Laying the paper down to one side, he closed his eyes, and sleep took him.