A high pitched wail split apart the gentle breeze and rhythmic padding of Kat's feet against the ground. My breathing seized in my chest, and another ounce of my strength returned like a burst of adrenaline as I squeezed my arms around Kat's neck. It sounded close. Way too close.

"Breathing room," Kat said with a gasp.

"Sorry," I mumbled as I loosened my grip.

My friend squeezed my thigh as she continued to descend the mountain. "It's fine. That was probably—"

Sharp claws, like small knives, dug into my back. I screamed, Kat screamed, and I was torn violently away as she lost her footing. I could only watch, helpless, as my friend tumbled head over heels down the mountain. Her body crashed against the rough, granite earth and through bushes riddled with thorns, but she wasn't slowing down. She was going to end up at the base of the mountain a bloody, mangled mess.

"I don't care what you do to me," I said to my captor as fast as I could get the words out. Wincing as their nails dug deeper into my flesh, I pointed down after Kat. "But, please, save her!"

I shouted again as I was hoisted to a nearby tree. "Grab it," a throaty, horse voice demanded. When I did, I was released. "Don't move," the voice demanded before I saw a girl with choppy, golden hair riddled with twigs, leaves, and mud rapidly scale down the mountain after Kat.

Despite her ravaged appearance, she descended with practiced grace, leaping from outcropping stone, to loose patch of grass, to over-hanging tree branch until she was able to snatch my friend up with one arm in mid air. I nearly lost my grip on the tree as I watched her climb back up the mountain like Kat wasn't even weighing her down.

My friend was bruised, cut open, and very much out of commission. But she was alive and in one piece. The feral girl hoisted her under her arm as she approached me. When our eyes met, I remembered my last clear memory before the Knowledge overtook me once again.

"You walk?" Em asked me as her blue eyes looked down on me. Those same blue eyes that had avoided me as she admonished her friends. That same soulless, violent desire I had seen when she first attacked me and my friends. When we discovered the true depravity of Fawn's madness.

I found my feet as I stood against the tree. I reached out for her and Kat, not knowing what to do, but feeling the pit growing heavier all the same.

In response, Em kicked me in the ribs—hard. Hard enough to send me to my knees, gripping where she struck, and knowing for almost a fact that she had just broken a few.

"You walk!" Em said again, now demanding it.

"Okay." I held up a hand in mercy as I slowly stood back up. My bones and muscles protested, but they were back in my control, and I was done resting. "I walk."

Every step felt like a stab in my chest and stomach, but I didn't slow. I tried glancing back at Em, holding Kat in one arm and not seeming to mind when her limp legs and hands dragged against the ground, but a firm boot to my backside and a rough, "No looking!" kept me staring straight ahead.

"Is it just you?" I asked as I saw the shack, and the people waiting just outside it, begin to come back into view. "Did Fawn make any more than just you and those guys?"

"Shut-up!" Em hollered back. "No talking!"

The witch who created us and her loyal pet, Tusk, stood just before the ruined shack. When I stepped out from the trees, she smiled and opened her arms out wide—like Jack had. I could still barely see anything through the thick layers of animal fur and skin, but her hands were thin, wrinkled, and shaking as she beckoned me to her.

"You are the fox, yes?" she asked. I felt my lips twitch, as if they wanted to open and answer her, but I kept them firmly closed. The witch only continued to smile and wave me over. "Well, of course you are. What a silly question. Come here so I can get a good look at you."

I took a step forward, but it was against my will. The bones locked and muscles stretched as if she had her withered hands on them and was coaxing them forward. In response, I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. The pain loosened my body and I was able to pull the leg back under my control.

"Fawn's little monster told me I couldn't talk," I said while throwing a casual thumb back towards the monster in question. "If you're asking me questions, is it alright that I start talking now?"

Tusk stepped forward, white beard practically quivering as fire danced in his black pits for eyes. "You ballsy little fucker. Mother, you shouldn't waste your time with this one. He isn't like us. He never was."

"After everything I've seen, I'll take that as a compliment," I shot right back.

"Now, now, there is no need for such words," the witch spoke up.

Her voice had yet to change in pitch, but something about it made Tusk flinch and shy away. While he continued to glare at me darkly, he also made sure it was well out of his 'Mother's' line of sight. I couldn't place the feeling, but I also found myself stepping back as the old woman leveled her dark eyes back on me. Somewhere, not too long ago, I had seen those same eyes before.

"Is that why you and Kat ran from me?" the witch asked.

Her hands were buried once again within the animal skins, so all I could see of her was her head. The white hair falling around a dark face lined with age. A face I had seen before.

"You're..." I started, but I could not finish. Finishing would mean admitting that what I was seeing was reality. And I wasn't ready for that.

"I am the one who created you," she finished for me. "Not directly, of course. Most of you are products of that vile place, Wildwood, and what they forced me to do. But, unlike them, I am taking responsibility for my actions. Foxy." The witch reached for me again, but this time she was the one who started walking. Inching closer and closer with her frail, dead hands looking to encompass my face. "You are just as much my child as any of the others. You deserve to be free of the binds that trap you. I can free you. I want to free you."

Her face had grown close enough to trace every wrinkle. To count each black hair that fought through a sea of white. It wasn't until her cracked nails pressed against the side of my cheeks that I leapt back, snarling and shouting, "Stay away from—!"

There was another firm kick into my back, and I was on my knees before the witch, gasping then coughing up dirt and debris that filled my throat and lungs. Before I could try to stand, a foot came down firm on my back, keeping me in place.

"Crane, dear, that is unnecessary," the witch chastised.

"It's Swan, you old hag!" Jack shouted in irritation.

I looked over to see the light-shooting witch sitting against the shack and glaring in our direction as Gus appeared to be constructing make-shift slings out of branches and torn clothes nearby.

"The big guy with the beard would have killed you just now if she didn't stop him," the chubby boy mumbled as he worked.

"Mother..." Tusk said with a growl as his hands clenched and un-clenched. He very clearly relaxed when the witch placed one of her hands on his flexing forearm.

"It is fine. They pose no threat to us at the moment." She turned back me and the feral girl who continued to keep me down on my knees. "Crane, step away and release Kat."

I heard Em snarl before kicking off my back. A moment later, Kat's body thumped to the ground beside me, giving me a clear view of her face now riddled with nearly as many new cuts as there were old scars. I fell on top of her before anyone could make another move, protecting as much of her body as I could as I glared around at the people who surrounded us.

"Looks like the 'little monster' gave you little shits some trouble," Tusk said with a wide grin.

"Tusk," the witch warned, and the familiar's smile fell away before she turned to Em. "Crane, thank you for retrieving your brother and sister. But, remember, we are family. We don't treat family like this."

Em just snarled before turning away and stalking off in the direction of Jack and Gus. The latter stopped what he was doing and watched with wide eyes while Jack smiled, almost laughing as she approached.

"My beautiful Swan!" he greeted. "So good to see you up and moving again, baby!"

Em, or Crane, or Swan, or whoever fell to her knees before Jack and started gently tracing her hands over his limp arms. For a moment, the witch winced in pain, but he quickly went back to smiling and laughing when she pulled back her hand.

"It's cool, baby. Your Jackie is just fine. Just a cheap shot from a cheap nobody."

It was Tusk's turn to snarl. "Should have just killed them all when I had the chance," he muttered.

"Those boys are not a threat for now, my dear Tusk. Some companionship may do Crane good."

Em kept close by Jack and Gus, her hands going back to the former and tracing gently over the small cuts and bruises on his face and neck. Gus wasn't giving his companion any of those strange warnings, so I could only guess the familiar and witch were on good terms, though he did watch their display with not so hidden apprehension.

I looked around for John and his shadow, but I only found the boy. He was propped up against a tree and had to either be sleeping or dead. I was too far away to tell for sure.

That just left the old woman and the other familiars as my only real obstacle for escape. She and Tusk were right in front of me, and I knew the old bastard was just waiting for an excuse to turn me inside out. Stallion was keeping his distance, clearly avoiding looking at anyone—especially me—but Mary was now strewn over his back. I could see her face again, smooth and almost peaceful as she slept.

"Do you worry about your friends, Foxy?" the witch asked. When I looked back her way, I nearly jumped at how much closer she now stood without me noticing. "Stallion told me what you did for them. They are safe now because of you—because you brought them to me."

"What do you want from us?" The words were hard to form, and I winced when my voice cracked.

Tusk grinned while the witch smiled almost in understanding. Her hand found my arm, and I was at first surprised by how warm it was. Then, by its strength when it enclosed around my wrist.

"I am sorry it has taken so long for us all to meet. Please, let's continue this inside. Tusk, would you carry Kat?"

"Don't touch her," I hissed, stepping in his way as soon as the old man started to move. Tusk's meaty hands immediately curled into fists, but the witch once again stopped him with a raise of her hand. Using more strength than I'd like to admit, I tore my arm free and took a step away from the two of them. "We're not going anywhere."

"You little shit."

Tusk lurched in my direction before the witch could say anything. He had his arms spread out wide, looking to grab me. But I was ready for him. I ducked under his grasping hands before throwing out my elbow into his exposed throat. It hit home, making the old familiar cough and gag as he grabbed at his adam's apple.

The witch stepped in front of him as I made to capitalize on his suffering, but I didn't stop. If I had to, I would take her down, too.

"Heel."

I hit the ground as someone fell on top of me. Someone with enough strength to pull me straight down to my knees. I braced my hands against the ground to keep from having my face smashed against the small rocks, but it wasn't letting up. My body was shaking under the great force being pressed down on me.

"Tusk, you do not move either," the witch said, her voice hard and her smile gone. "I did not tell you to attack your brother."

"He is not...my goddamn brother!" Tusk said between deep wheezes. With one hand to his throat, he used the other to point my way. "This is not one of your children, Mother. He is the enemy! Let me kill him!"

"You are being misguided by your own rage, my child." The witch touched his arm, but Tusk brushed her aside. The lines in the old woman's face grew deeper—darker. "You cannot hide your pain from me. I know you still mourn the loss of that witch. You must understand that Foxy and his friends saved you from her. It was because of them that you found your true home."

"No..." The old familiar coughed, and blood splattered his lips. I looked away when his dark eyes found mine. "You're wrong, Mother."

Someone was still holding me down. Em was with the other witches, hands on Jack's face while the rest of her body looked ready to jump into action. She was waiting to see if I would break free.

But from who? None of my friends and none of the other witches had moved. Who was keeping me from moving? I couldn't even turn my head to look with the amount of force on the back of my skull. The easiest thing to do was stare at the ground—and at the black, featureless face that seemed to be looking back up at me.

"Do you wish to escape?" the shadow whispered.

"Having some family drama over there?" Jack taunted with a widening grin.

"You will learn to let go of your hatred," the witch said to Tusk as she approached him, ignoring the younger witch. She extended her hand out to her wizened familiar. "You will see that you are being blinded by a witch who saw you as nothing but a tool."

"Stay away from me!" Tusk snapped back. He swung a fist, knocking the old woman's hand aside. "You weren't there, Mother! You are the one that is blind!"

"Heel."

The familiar, at least twice the witch's size, hit the ground like he had been struck. But nothing was there. And even as he struggled and cursed and tried to push himself back up, he couldn't move. His own body was betraying him. Just like mine had.

"You'd have to attack the witch—that old woman—before I can move again," I hissed back to the shadow beneath me. I shot my eyes from the one in question to my friend who remained beaten and unmoving at my side. "And I'm not leaving Kat."

"You take the boy, and I shall take the girl."

Without waiting for me to answer, the shadow moved along the ground. Like some kind of snake, it slid across the bumpy earth of stone and loose grass before stopping right beneath the old woman. She stood underneath him without realizing, and I watched as dark hands grew out from the blackened pool and grabbed her ankles.

The old witch let out a gasp of surprise as it dragged her to the ground and, all at once, I felt the invisible presence leave me. I was up and running just as she shouted, "Tusk, Crane, stop Foxy! Kill the boy!"

"Not again, you fucker!" the old familiar cried, lunging for me as I ran past him.

Em was making a beeline for John, even as Jack shouted for her to stop. Tusk caught the baggy sleeve of my jacket, but all he managed to do was tear the thing halfway off my body before I was free. I wracked my nails across his chest as I pulled away, just to give the old asshole something to think about before focusing my attention back on Em.

John was choking out blood as the rabid girl held him up by his throat. Her other hand was pulling back, like she was planning on sticking it right through his stomach. With no time left to think, I found myself grabbing her free hand and digging my teeth into her mud-encrusted neck.

Familiar or not, blood flowed into my mouth just as easily as teeth broke skin. Images of black liquid and dark veins coating my skin made me pull back, spitting and coughing, but only red oozed from her open wound. With a cry of fury, Em threw an elbow into my chest, knocking me backwards and into the waiting arms of Tusk.

"Gotcha now, you little shit!" he declared as a force like iron wrapped itself around my body. He wasn't just trying to stop me—he was going to crush every bone in my body.

"You aren't getting away this time," he whispered in my ear, letting me watch as Em stood back over John's crumpled body. "And I'm not gonna fuck up killing you like you did with me."

I made to answer the bastard with a witty comment of my own, but a sudden fit of choking and gagging filled my ears. A moment later, I was dropped to the ground and given the freedom to turn and see John's shadow, arms wrapped around Tusk's neck, as the latter dug his hands fruitlessly into the black nothingness.

"The boy!" the shadow shouted, sending me reeling with the force of its command.

I spun back around and connected with Em's back. Before she could regain her footing, I slammed her into the tree John had been resting against. Before she could recover, I kept my grip on the back of her head and continued throwing her face against it.

Blood and flesh caught in-between the bark. She went limp after the first few impacts, but I didn't stop. I wouldn't until she was—

"Stop this, fox! Heel!" the witch cried.

Em's greasy, blonde hair slipped from between my fingers. Her face dragged against the ravaged tree as we both slid to the ground. When I landed, I found myself face to face with John, his bone white skin, and his dark—half-lidded eyes. If he was staring back at me, I couldn't tell. If it wasn't for him blinking, it wouldn't take much to convince me that he was long since dead.

John's face partly disappeared as a cold grip on my arm lifted me slightly off the ground. "Get up," his shadow commanded.

"I can't," I answered back, barely able to get more than a whisper to escape my lips.

Even with a Master, even after the commands I had fought and resisted, this witch—my creator—still had so much power over me. What was the point of coming here to talk when she could silence me with just a word? What had I been thinking?

"You must," the echoing voice pressed. It had gotten me to my feet, but I was still nothing but its puppet. Nothing but her puppet.

From my new position, it was easy to find her. The old woman stood much where she was when the shadow attacked. Only now Tusk and Em joined the bodies that surrounded us. She regarded them with a dissatisfied frown before looking back up at me.

"I'll ask you again," I said through clenched teeth. "What do you want from us?"

"As I've said, I wish to free—"

"Cut the shit," I snapped. As the shadow held me aloft, I could feel my strength gradually returning. Already I could curl my fingers into fists as I glared at my creator. "I've heard that line before from someone far better at lying than you. If you don't start being honest, I will find a way to kill you."

"Foxy..." Stallion's voice reappeared in my head, stressing my name in a pained sort of warning.

I immediately snapped my head to the horse who remained near the shack, Mary still sleeping peacefully on his back. "Until you get your own head out of your ass and start helping us for a change, stay out of this."

"It really is true then," the witch spoke up. She was almost laughing as she rubbed a hand over her face. "A familiar who broke free of his own binds. Who turned against his own Masters and escaped. Even after seeing you here, in the flesh, part of me still believed this was just yet another trick masterminded by Wildwood. But you really are alone, aren't you?"

"I'm not—" I started to say but, looking around, it was more true than it had ever been.

Stallion and Mary had betrayed me. Kat was slipping away from me. This witch's shadow was only helping me out of convenience. The people I could call friends and allies were slowly vanishing, while my enemies only grew in numbers and strength.

"You have done what many would call impossible," the witch continued and she gestured with her hand as if to indicate the bodies that surrounded us. "This little display only looks to prove that. All these witches and familiars—all this power stacked against you—and yet they have all fallen while you continue to stand."

"Standing is generous, ma'am," Stallion observed, and I shot him a dark look.

"Do not sell your friend short. You are standing, Foxy, not through your own strength alone. You are special, my dear. Something about you draws people to you. It makes them trust you."

"Stop it." I had recovered enough to place my feet firmly against the ground, and as soon as I did John's shadow released his cold grip on me. He didn't stray far, however. "I don't know what you're trying to get at, but the only reason we decided to come here was to negotiate. Or, better yet, it was to tell you to stay far away from me and my friends."

"And there it is. Your true strength." The witch gestured for me to approach her. "Come here."

My legs moved forward, but I tensed the muscles that I could. Little sparks of white hot light burst inside my brain, making me shut my eyes and grit my teeth. It felt like my head was splitting open.

"I won't," I said with a deep groan. The words were all I could get out as my throat tightened. Every muscle in my body was restricting—fighting against my desire to stay.

I thought I was going to pass out before a cold, firm grip caught hold of my arm.

"Release him, witch," John's shadow demanded. "Or I will end you myself."

The relief was immediate, but did not altogether go away. Little flares still wracked my brain as I stood there and watched the witch's arm fall by her side.

"I would advise against that, shadow," she said back to him. "Even should you stop me, your boy has been bleeding out for quite awhile now and almost certainly will suffer from an infection from those dirty rags that are keeping him alive. He will not survive the night without my help."

"We'll figure something ou—" I started to say, but stopped when the shadow's grip on my arm tightened.

"Silence," he said to me before turning his head back to the witch. "What are you proposing?"

...

*Author's Note*

Foxy his hanging on by the skin of his teeth. But his ally of convenience may soon switch sides. What will our little fox do then? What hope does he have against the forces against him that continue to grow stronger and stronger?

Whatever your thoughts, I would love to hear them!