He came to us a broken thing.

I was not privy to his meeting with the council, but gossip spread quickly, and before the man had the chance to tell his story at dinner, the entire colony knew three things about him:

The first was that he begged the council to give him a way to atone for his sins.

The second was that he had been the right-hand man and most faithful servant to the Collector.

The third was that the council, for the first time in its history, was unsure about what to do.

Phelan came to my home shortly after the examination was concluded. It had been years since my friend sat on the council, but he had access to information that was shared among them, for they often sought the wisdom of past leaders.

And this time, it was agreed that every great mind would need to come together to solve the problem of the stranger.

"His name is John," Phelan said, "and his life, as he claims, has been an evil one. He rambled to the council about a monstrous king and asked them to decide his fate, even if it meant putting him to death."

I looked at Faye and my wife returned a confused—

"I know John," Credence interrupted with a gasp. "We have...a complicated past. The last time I saw him was..."

She paused, unsure she was prepared to tell the truth.

When she remained silent, her brother continued:

Yes, I would learn that John had a history with you.

The Collector wasn't unheard of in the colony, though no one but myself had ever been in its presence. Still, the mere mention of its name raised alarm and many saw John as a threat.

When word spread of who he was, some wanted his crimes to be answered with an execution.

But to kill one of our own was was unthinkable, no matter how wicked his past. It was a foreign and troubling concept. 

Dinner was very different that night. Instead of seating John as a guest of honor, the three long tables were laid in a triangle to block all escape routes. John stood in the center with the entire colony surrounding him.

His story would not be entertainment, it would be an inquisition.

John didn't oppose this arrangement, in fact, he welcomed it. He was ashamed of the life he'd led, and only asked that we not kill him before his tale had ended.

And what a story it was.

Born to cruel parents who had the gift of the wolf, his childhood was painted with violence. From an early age he was encouraged to be a killer, and he found pleasure in the pain and death of others. 

The more he spoke, the more distressed the colony became. A few parents took their children away to spare innocent ears from hearing terrible things. 

And then I recognized a part of his story as a part of my own: His starving pack attacked two children. A girl inflicted a wound on his mouth that wouldn't heal.

A bargain was made when the Collector found him.

When he talked of tracking the children and finding them near a fire, my fists curled. Faye leaned over and kissed my cheek.

"Are you all right, my love?" she whispered. 

"I don't know."

I could see it clearly in my mind when he described the frightened girl crouching over the body of her dying brother.

Worst of all, he began to recount things I hadn't known about.

He found the girl unconscious on the forest floor. Following the Collector's command, he took her to his cabin and nursed her back to health, and when she woke he acted like a friend to keep her from leaving.

When he said your name for the first time, I stood from my seat.

All eyes turned to me and John went silent. A moment passed as we stared at each other, and one thing was clear:

Before his time at the colony was finished, John and I would have a reckoning.

I retook my seat and nodded at him to continue.

After the girl wounded him, she went to live with a witch, who the Collector killed after the girl escaped. John tracked her to the towns and stole her away to a magical prison created by his master. But this wasn't a prison like the Collector's tree, it was an entire world. 

There, John watched what happened between you and the Collector.

He claimed you...fell in love with the monster. That you married it. 

I knew he was mistaken. John might have believed such a grotesque thing was true, but my sister would never do that. It was a ruse, I decided, that you had put on to distract your jailor.

What confused me most about his story was its conclusion. When he first spoke of you his tone was bitter, but as he explained the tenuous bond that was formed during your imprisonment, his voice grew soft, almost loving. Not only were you responsible for healing the limp you had inflicted, you also forgave him for the presumed death of your brother. He made it clear that you weren't friends, but neither were you enemies.

Because of you, he defected. He ran from the Collector and days later he arrived here.

The final command his master had given was to bring back the bride that had escaped from her prison.

Both council and colony bombarded him with questions when he was finished, but I remained silent. Faye nudged me, knowing I had worlds to say, but I refused to speak.

I knew my opportunity to confront John would come.

John remained humble through his interrogation and answered every suspicion thrown at him with honesty, leaving nothing to doubt.

"I came to speak my truth," he told us, "and also to bring a warning. The Collector intends to plunge the woods into war, and those who refuse to join his cause will be prisoners or corpses."

One of the council members, an elderly man with a beard that fell to his knees, stood.

"What war? Against whom?"

John shrugged. "Against anyone who challenges his rule. I've heard rumors that he wishes to kill his mother, the Queen of the Wood, so he take her throne."

The youngest of the council stood, a boy at the tender age of twelve.

"All he wants is a throne? He can have it. If he'll leave us out of his war in exchange for calling him king, it's worth our safety, isn't it? We don't have to believe the word."

"You don't understand what you're saying," John said to the child. "He never was a reasonable monarch, but he's become much worse. Driven into madness and rage. You may call him king, but that won't guarantee his mercy."

"Do you intend to oppose him?" another council member asked.

"I intend to get as far away as I can, if you don't kill me first."

"Why do you care what becomes of us?" I asked. 

At my voice, all heads turned to me.

"Because I'm trying to be good," he answered.

There was something in his eyes when he looked at me, as if he knew exactly who I was.

"I'm not the wisest man," he continued, "but I know the sort of kingdom he would have, and it's not one full of peace, but fear. He means to conquer the entire wood, and he will find this place eventually. He will enslave everyone and leave the bones of those who fight back."

"We need to speak further about this in private," another council member said as she stood. "For now, you will be kept in our meeting chamber with two guards posted outside."

"I've told you everything already. The Collector is coming. You better have a plan for what you're going to do. My suggestion is to run."

As the council commanded, John was taken to their private room after dinner. He was the only thing anyone could talk about.

Half the colony was of the mind that because he repented and warned us about impending danger, he should be free to leave.

The other half weren't convinced he was telling the truth and feared he was still working for the Collector.

Liar or defector, I didn't care what he was. All I knew was I hated him.

I sought Phelan for guidance, but he was distracted by bigger problems.

"There have been concerns in the past," he said of the Collector, "over sinister things happening in the woods. The council's been keeping its eye on them since before I was a member."

"What sort of sinister things?"

"Until now, nothing substantial. A hunting party might encounter an apparition, or something threatens one of our own before fleeing. The council has heard several testimonies of strange things, but John's story made it clear we're not dealing with simple sprites or goblins."

"What will the council do?"

"I no longer sit there, so I don't hear all their discussions. But it won't be long before I'm invited to give my opinion. If the Collector is coming, we'll need to leave."

"Leave? To where?"

"I don't know, my friend. But if we don't, we'll have to choose between fighting or submitting. Neither sound good."

"We're a strong pack, surely—"

"You know better than any of us what the Collector is. Do you believe, even with our numbers, that we stand a chance against it?"

***

Understanding that a meeting must be had between us, the council allowed me into the room with John. We sat at a table across from each other, one pair of eyes staring with anger, the other with guilt.

"I know who you are," he said after a moment of silence. "Your scent is not unlike hers. I can find Credence. Give me the chance."

"You're not half as clever as you think you are."

"I don't think I'm clever at all."

"You think I'll follow you into the woods where an easy trap could be waiting?"

"Why would I want to lead you into a trap?"

"Because of who I am. Brother of the Collector's 'wife'." I snorted. "She would never do such a hideous thing. That monster threatened us."

"People are complicated."

"It sent a demon that killed our—" I cleared my throat. "If there is any truth to your story about Credence and the Collector, that would make me a very valuable person."

A chess pawn, I thought.

"Most valuable indeed," John said. "It's almost a shame I no longer serve the Collector."

"Maybe you wish to get back in your master's good graces."

"I'm trying to help."

"I don't believe you. The life you've led—no one like you just decides to become good."

"No. They're changed by better people."

I tapped my fingers on the table. "How can you be confident you'll find her, when I've tried and found nothing?"

"Which of us was with her last? It's been many years since you've seen your sister. You might not even recognize her now. The world she was trapped in...it's different from the one we inhabit." He leaned over the table. "What would you give to hear her voice again? She would fight to her last breath if she thought there was a chance to find you. But she believes you're dead. It might interest you to hear that I picked up her scent a day before I found your colony."

"And you didn't follow it?"

"For what purpose? I've done her enough harm. But when I smelled you, that familiar trace, I realized there was a chance to do something good. I once told Credence that if she ever asked for my service in anything, I would grant it. I can think of no better gift than to return her lost brother. So I'm asking you to help me fulfill my promise. I could take you to the place where I smelled her. That's not nothing, you know. It's a start. We could search from there."

I shook my head. "Credence is gone." 

"You're free to not believe me, of course, but I promise you, she is alive. And with the Collector rampaging through the woods, she is in danger."

I accepted John's invitation and told no one of the scheme in my mind.

But I didn't intend to find you, Credence. 

I intended to kill the wolf who took you from me.