surprised that the aged truck made it around some of them.
Once Aunt Sophie got it beyond the town’s limits and onto the roads through the wood, things got, if anything, even more terrifying. She powered the truck along at a pace that most ral y drivers would have been happy with, throwing up sprays of mud with every turn.
“Mrs. Edge? Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Fal on asked.
“What are you complaining about?” Aunt Sophie cut the wheel, sending them skidding around a bend. “It’s not like a car crash would kil you.”
“It would hurt though. A lot.” Fal on winced as they narrowly avoided a tree. “Do you always drive like this?”
“When my family is in danger, I do.” She slowed, and final y pul ed up by the side of the road. “We wil have to do the last part on foot.”
Aunt Sophie hopped lightly from the trucks’ cab and started rummaging through the boxes in the back. Fal on was briefly reminded of an older woman rooting through the contents of a garage sale, except that very few garage sales sold silver bladed swords, crossbows made from various advanced polymers, and high tech telescopic sights. Aunt Sophie affixed the latter to her crossbow, and picked out a quiver ful of silver tipped bolts.
“Quietly now,” she said, and set off through the trees.
She made hardly a sound, and Fal on found himself glad that Briony’s great-aunt had never seriously decided to try to kil him. She was a lot more dangerous than she looked.
Aunt Sophie raised her hand after a little while, gesturing for Fal on to look ahead at the road before staring through her crossbow sight. Ahead, Fal on could see figures crowding the road, and his superior senses al owed him to get at least a vague impression of who they were.
They were split into two groups. One, on their feet, consisted of vampires, some of whom Fal on recognized.
Most were far older than him, though a few he was less certain about.
“That’s Mr. Johnson who owns the bakery,” Aunt Sophie said as she kept staring down her binocular.
“George gets his hamburger rol s from him. And that’s Marjorie Simpson. Her husband is on the local council. No wonder they have been giving the Society so much trouble recently, if they’re al in with Pietre.”
Fal on watched the people out on the road for a moment longer. “They’re more than that, Mrs. Edge. They’re vampires. Look at how they move.”
“You’re right, and that just makes it worse. I should have spotted this, Fal on.”
Fal on did not reply, because he was too busy watching the second group of people. They were obviously captured werewolves, judging by the way the vampires kept them kneeling on the muddy road. As Fal on watched, the vampires started moving among them, separating them into two groups.
“What are they doing?” Fal on asked.
“I don’t know,” Aunt Sophie admitted. “It looks like they’re asking them some kind of question. Honestly, George, why couldn’t you get some proper binoculars? I can’t see a thing. Fal on, can you see Briony down there?”
Fal on had to shake his head. “It’s too far to be sure.
I’l have to get closer.”
He started to move forward, and found Aunt Sophie’s hand on his arm. “Don’t be foolish, young man.
They hate you as much as any of us now. You’l be torn to shreds if you just wander up and start asking about my great-niece.”
Fal on shook his head. “I can’t see Pietre or his main lieutenants. If I’m lucky, the others won’t know who I am.
They’l just see another vampire, and they’re too busy guarding the werewolves to pay attention.”
“It is stil too dangerous,” Aunt Sophie insisted.
“It’s for Briony. She has to be safe.”
“Then I wil have to come closer too, to cover you.”
Fal on shook his head. “That’s a bad idea, Mrs.
Edge. I’m one of them, but your scent wil be different. Too human. Wel … almost human.”
There was a long, awkward silence.
“You shouldn’t listen at doors, young man,” Aunt Sophie said at last.
“It explains a few things though.” Fal on kept his eye on her now that he had said it. This was the kind of secret that might make her want to lash out. “Even when I was at the Inn, Briony’s parents said that she was special. What is she, Mrs. Edge?”
Aunt Sophie shook her head. “I’m not going to tel you that. Not with what you are. Maybe Briony