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“Calm, Henry.” Raleigh placed his hands on the siren’s shoulders and channeled his natural energies into him. His voice was soft and rhythmic. “Nature is clear and sets its own pace, like the spring that issues from a mountain. Remember those springs, Henry; they flow through your veins.” The dryad’s rectangular eyes implored the Näck’s spirit to relax. This situation required clarity and focus.

He heard Dr. Kinnon still hard at work saving Aislinn’s life and Atticus kicking the Nixie’s remains in frustration but remained concentrated on soothing Henry. He’d only known the water spirit the best part of half an hour and already his life was indebted to him. If the Nixie he had silenced had screamed as Raleigh speared through her, at that close proximity and hearing greatly enhanced, the bones in his ears would have shattered in an instant and lodged in his brain like shrapnel. Chilling his saviour out was the least Raleigh could do.

Atticus’ breathing had become noticeably heavy. Raleigh knew he was turning. [i]Pull it together, Atticus![/i] the voice in his head shouted. He was no telepath, but the message seemed to get through. Raleigh listened as the incubus’ exasperation died down.

His mind now mulled over any details Henry had revealed about this ‘[i]Lady of Ice[/i]’. “Sorcery”. “Sovereign in the North”. “War”.

A light bulb flashed at the last tidbit. [i][b]Niffelheim[/b][/i]. The realm of the jötnar, or frost giants. There was a link, no matter how tentative.

“Now, Henry, you mentioned the [i]Lady of Ice[/i] is the spawn of Niffleheim, correct? You may need to help me with my knowledge of Norse mythology but isn’t there a story that the personification of the moon, Máni, had relations with a female jötunn? The jötnar hail from Niffleheim, right? Could this so-called ‘[i]Lady of Ice[/i]’ be somehow related?”

Raleigh became aware of the insanity of his words. “I know this sounds farfetched, but all stories come from somewhere. Just hear me out. We all know about the link between wolves and the moon; werewolves and the moon. If this [i]Lady of Ice[/i] holds some kind of power over the moon, then…” he paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts, “she would, in theory, control the werewolves.”

Raleigh turned to Mr. Hoyle. His words could be inferred badly and it was not his intention to insult his host and employer. The lycan was in deep concentration trying to save his sister and appeared not to hear the dryad. Then, Dr. Kinnon opened his eyes and fell to the floor, drained of energy from the transfusion.

“Please, please, help him,” came Hoyle’s plea to Henry and Raleigh.

Raleigh swiftly cantered over to Dr. Kinnon to check his breathing. “He’s alright, Mr. Hoyle. Just sleeping. You should rest too, sir, it would be unwise to move about after imparting such a large amount of energy.” The ancient werewolf had already slumped down, hand over face. He began to talk, of the [i]Solas na gealaí[/i].

[i]The Solas na gealaí[/i]. ‘The Light of the moon’ – ‘Moonlight’. The image of the bone implement blinked in Raleigh’s mind. His stomach rolled like the tide and washed feelings of dread and nausea through him. He was right. He knew the object was a bad omen from the moment his eyes clasped upon it. And he had a dreadful suspicion he knew where it had come from. Or rather, [i]what[/i] it had come from.

There wasn’t time to voice his suspicion as Reginald rose to his feet, transformed, and set off into the shadows of the cave with his weakened sister, miraculously alive, slung over his shoulder.

Raleigh peered around him to his companions to see if they would follow. His gaze fell upon the demon and vampire in a tenuous embrace and met Atticus’ crimson eye.