"How long ago? Have you been through our house as well?" Matt demanded once the surprise wore off.

  "I… I don't know – at least an hour, maybe longer." Carry replied, struggling to keep from crying. "She was tired, said she was going to have a lie down. When we checked on her, the window was open and she was gone."

  Arlee hurried through to the living room, where Alan was comforting Kira. As soon as her mother entered the room, she lurched to her feet and clamped her arms around Arlee's waist, sobbing uncontrollably.

  "I'm sorry Mum, I'm sorry. I was supposed to be… looking out for her, but she just… wanted to sleep! She said… she wanted to be alone… for a bit – I thought it would be alright!" Kira's voice jerked between words.

  Matt laid a comforting hand briefly on Carry's shoulder, then knelt down next to his daughter. Taking her face gently in his hands, he raised her chin and looked into her eyes as he spoke. "You have nothing to be sorry for Kira – nothing. You're not Lara's keeper, you're her friend. We will find her, I promise."

  "But how?" Kira said, desperately. "We looked through our houses, all the hiding places. She's gone!"

  Matt held her face steady in front of his own. "I think she's gone back to her house. It's my fault, I should have realised she might do this. She's been asking to go back, but I've been putting her off. Is Oswald still here?"

  "We couldn't find him either."

  Matt gave her a tight hug then stood, shepherding Kira back into Arlee's waiting arms. He beckoned Alan and moved through to the kitchen, Alan, Carry and Matty following behind. Carry turned to the new arrival.

  "We haven't been introduced – I'm Carry, this big lump is my husband, Alan. Are you a friend of Matt's?"

  "Sure am, I'm Matty. I know Old Matt from rugby, but I've been working at the garage by the roundabout. I got stuck there after everything went shit-shaped, so when the guys dropped in this morning and offered me a spot, it sounded like a good shout."

  Carry managed a smile. "Well, I'm sure any friend of 'Old Matt' is welcome here." She looked archly over at Matt, who got the distinct impression that the nickname was going to stick.

  Clearing his throat before their new ally could regale them with tales of his rugby ineptitude, Matt spoke quickly. "I'm pretty sure Lara has gone back to her house. She said she wanted to pick up some things, but I bet that she's actually looking for a locus that she can attune to with Oswald."

  Carry and Alan looked shocked, while Matty was radiating confusion. "Err, what was that she's looking for?"

  "Sorry Matty, more magic stuff. No time now, but I promise to fill you in when we get back." He turned back to Alan. "My worry is that she has to go past the station to get back home, and there's at least one spider still left there. If she tries going across the footbridge…" He left the thought hanging, but Alan paled slightly at the thought of the sweet girl, coming face to face with the monstrous arachnid they had only just escaped from. "I could really use your help on this one, big guy."

  Alan didn't hesitate. "No worries man, you know you got me." His normally jovial expression was serious. "I was getting bored on the sofa anyway."

  Matty went to speak, but Matt interrupted. "Sorry mate, but I don't want to spend the time getting you kitted out with the essentials. When we get back – with Lara – we'll have a beer and go through a whole bunch of stuff, get you sorted out, okay?"

  The young man nodded reluctantly, before turning to Carry. "Anything I can do to help around here while they're gone?"

  They thought for a moment, then Alan responded. "There is actually. One of the things Ancient Matt will take you through later on is our home defence, and we could really use a load of pipe sawed up." He turned to Matt, who had an unamused look at the nickname evolution. "What do you reckon, Wrinkly Matt? About another ten or so pipes for the flame tubes?"

  Without waiting for the no doubt aggravated response, Alan beckoned Matty to follow him, heading into the garden and grabbing a saw from the shed, along with a number of lengths of pipe. Quickly marking off lengths with a pencil against the flame-tube he carried, Alan gave Matty a quick explanation and left him putting his impressive biceps to use.

  Re-entering the kitchen to a part-amused, part-withering look from Not That Old Matt, Alan grabbed his staff and checked the armour patches were attached to his outfit. Clasping hands with Matt, he said in a fierce voice. "Let's go rescue the princess mate."

  Matt nodded and the pair said a swift goodbye to their respective other halves before hurrying out the door. Grabbing a pair of bikes they explained the situation to Frank, who promised to keep a watch out in their absence.

  The pair set a good pace, reining themselves in slightly to avoid wearing out completely. With the delay since Lara had likely left, there was almost no chance of catching her up and they had to be watchful for their own sakes. Their faces were grim as they rode, both aware that the young girl was in immense danger, both from the journey and what might await her at the other end.

  They fell into a familiar pattern as they rode. The rider in front scanned the route ahead and to the sides – the second rider kept an eye on the sky, in front and behind. After their recent encounters with the massive red kite, they were determined not to be caught off-guard, as they almost were originally, and the rats certainly had been as the giant bird's attack unintentionally saved their lives.

  Crossing the road bridge next to the station, they turned down the hill running beside the tracks. Both flicked glances onto the platforms but did not want to potentially waste precious time stopping for a more thorough investigation. They had to work on the assumption that Lara had gotten past the station safely, as neither could bear the thought of finding her small body wrapped in spider silk and hanging in the gruesome larder.

  A few minutes further on, Matt held up his hand and pointed under the large tree at the corner of the road. Taking deep breaths to recover from the ride, they crouched under cover as Matt pointed out their next steps. The hiding places they could move between, as well as the front of the house which was their target. From where they were, the wreckage of the car outside the front door was just visible, but no movement caught their eye.

  The two men hurried through front yards and gardens, sticking to cover as much as possible as they made their way down the road toward the Wrens' house. Unlike last time no fearful residents hailed them as they passed, and Matt wondered if there were any survivors left in this area.

  Moving to a house adjacent to their target, they crouched behind a battered old work van and peeked around it carefully. The wrecked vehicle and shattered front door were clear, but the hallway inside was too shadowed to make out any details.

  "Turn on your armour now." Matt said, tapping his own patch. "Let me go in front, my armour can probably take more before failing. Keep your head on a swivel – the snake moves fast and quietly." Alan nodded, tapping the patches on his hoodie and joggers, watching as the soft sheen spread across his clothes. Steeling themselves, the pair crept toward the gaping doorway into the building.

  As they got closer, the stench of burned… something met their noses. Pausing at the doorway, they could see a wild array of scorch marks lining the walls and floor, uneven and strangely spaced out. There was no sight of the snake apart from some burned tatters of shed skin, but there was a large blood trail winding drunkenly toward the back of the house.

  With two doors off the hallway, Matt pointed Alan toward one and waggled his flame-tube, indicating the other one slung over his friend's shoulder. These more powerful versions would give them both a significant range advantage as well as sheer volcanic power should they meet anything unfriendly. Be careful, Matt mouthed to his friend, before they split apart and each took a doorway, tubes poised ahead of them.

  Neither man had any formal training but both had been fed a steady diet of military movies over the years. It showed as they checked all corners of each room from the doorway, eyes always sighted along their makeshift flamethrowers. Professionals would have done better, but even they would have given a couple of grudging B+ grades for the effort and care that the pair displayed as they cautiously advanced. Matt had just finished clearing the kitchen when he heard a low voice from the next room.

  "Matt, out back mate. I think we're good."

  There was an awed tone to Alan’s voice that gave Matt pause, but he opened the back door from the kitchen and stepped outside, seeing his friend a little way over outside a shattered set of French doors. What arrested his attention though, was the gruesome display in the back garden.

  The huge serpent lay knotted as if some giant had reached down and twisted it into an impossible tangle. From its head all the way along a significant length of its body, scales were blackened and cracked, the flesh underneath burst open like an overheated sausage. The stench was concentrated here, the reek almost overpowering as they covered their mouths and noses with sleeves. Crusted bile piled up under now-slack jaws, atop the fetid pile the remains of a belt. A grim testament to this monster’s actions prior to its demise.

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  A detached part of his mind looked over the contorted remains. Likely the serpent had reflexively wound itself inward in a futile attempt to crush the agonising sensations, as blood boiled and skin burst. Matt felt a strange pity for that suffering, but no guilt or regret. There was still a cold-burning fury within, that this beast had ripped apart a young girl’s life.

  After the success of his rat poison patch for his spear, he had wondered about the feasibility of harvesting venom from creatures like this, or the spiders at the train station. Looking at the state of the serpentine corpse though, he cast that aside. The head was a blackened ruin, flesh peeled back from the large skull and only charred remnants of soft tissue remaining.

  Matt felt a surge of relief that this threat was no more, and that nudge reminded him of their main objective. "Let's see if she's here." He said, turning and hurrying back into the house. Moving swiftly through to the wrecked hallway, he had set only one foot on the stairs before a strange voice halted his progress.

  "Arrest thy steps intruder! There is naught here for you but death if you proceed. Leave - or face the fires of my wrath." Overhead, a jet of roaring flame lit up the shadowy hallway briefly, backing up the ominous decree.

  Although the voice was much deeper than Matt remembered, his heart leapt in joy – recognising the speech immediately. "Oswald, is that you? It's Matt… Mr T. Is Lara there with you?"

  There was a moment of silence, before the sound of beating wings heralded the descent of a large, shadowy shape from above. As the brighter light of the hallway revealed the approaching form, Matt laughed nervously as a significantly larger Oswald dropped down to the stair before him, wings slightly spread and face turned upwards with a wide, toothy grin.

  "Mr T, truly your arrival is most auspicious! My mistress will be happy to greet you… I hope." As his voice trailed off, his face took on a sombre expression. Matt marvelled at the change in what had been a football-sized plush toy but was now about his own size, with a curled tail on top of that, winding sinuously in the air. Shaking himself out of the wonderment, he looked at Oswald with concern.

  "What do you mean? Is she hurt?" He asked, starting up the stairs as Alan entered the hallway and gawked at the sight of Oswald's new form.

  "Not in body Mr T, but I fear her spirit may be so full of grief, that joy may be a distant memory." The courtly speech was tinged with sadness, as the dragon roosted on a cabinet and pointed a claw into one of the adjoining bedrooms.

  Matt paused in the doorway, taking in the room. It was a young boy's bedroom, toys and games spread around haphazardly, a rumpled duvet balled up at one end of the single bed. A lone figure sat on the floor against the wall, holding a simple wooden picture frame.

  He stood there unspeaking, tapping the patch on his chest to banish the spiky armour. Oswald squeezed his lither form through the gap in the doorway and padded over to Lara, curling up by her side.

  “I see you found your first locus, Lara.” Matt said quietly. “Oswald looks even more incredible now, doesn’t he?”

  There was no response, no movement. Just the whisper-soft sound of slow breaths.

  “The others were quite upset when they found out you had left. I think Kira checked every one of the ‘hide-and-seek’ spots a few times.”

  He paused to give a chance for reply, but hearing nothing he continued.

  “We would like you to come back with us Lara. I can’t know how you feel right now, and we can never replace your family. But we can give you love, a home with friends nearby. We can find good things to make the darkness seem a little bit less.”

  There was a pause, before the barest whisper emerged from the silence. “I thought nothing would be as bad as that night. We found the buzzy thing on the landing. Right where… where… Mum and David were when… when… it…”

  Matt hurried across the room and knelt down, just in time to catch her collapse in his arms and hold tightly as great, heaving cries echoed around the room. Various books and movies had tried to give voice to a banshee’s keen, but the primal, grief-stricken wails that assaulted his ears brought tears flooding down his cheeks as well.

  As Lara’s cries gradually softened, both she and Matt felt large, gentle hands come to rest on them. Gripping his shoulder in support and stroking her hair back. His voice – usually so strong and jovial – was quiet, constrained, as Alan spoke.

  “Y’know, there are things that happen to us, that make everything else go away. That are so terrible – so impossibly bad – that we can’t be in a world where they could ever happen. So we shut ourselves off from it – leave it all behind. Because if it’s not there – if it can’t be there – then it won’t get any worse, at least.”

  Taking a ragged breath, he continued. “I was a bit older than you when the police turned up at the door and told me… told me that my folks wouldn’t be coming home. My Nan was with us… with me then, and I reckon it might have been even worse for her.”

  Lara’s face came up for the first time, tear-streaked cheeks reddened and eyes dark. Silently she watched Alan’s face as he struggled to find the next words. The right words. The words to cut through her grief with understanding.

  “There were plenty of times that I just felt like packing it all in. A couple of times I thought about… well, stupid stuff. Then I met this girl. And she pulled me back from the edge. Showed me that the world I lived in could be good again.”

  He took Lara’s rapt face in his hands. “I won’t lie. It will always hurt. And right now, it feels like that pain is unbeatable, that it will never get better – but it does. Every day we push it back and don’t give in to it, it gets a little bit better. Every friend we make…” He looked Matt dead in the eyes. “…makes it a bit better. We… you can build on every tiny thing that brings a spark of light into the darkness and make a good life.” He trailed off, looking drained.

  Lara disentangled herself from Matt and flung her arms around the big man, fresh tears coursing down her face. After a moment, Matt joined her and they held Alan together. He had not known any of his friend’s trauma before this, only that his parent’s weren’t around anymore. His telling had touched Lara, bringing her out of grief long enough to take in the words of his heart.

  After a while, Alan cleared his throat and straightened up. Giving Matt a grateful nod, he turned to Lara.

  “How are you doing kiddo?”

  “I’m okay. I’m sorry about your parents.”

  “I’m sorry about your family as well. They seemed like good people. Can you tell me about them when we get back?”

  She nodded, turning and picking up the photo frame she had been holding and gathering it to her chest. She looked at Matt before speaking.

  “When we grabbed the buzzy thing, it was red and it hurt. It happened so fast, but I felt what had happened to Dad, and Mum, and David. Like it was happening to me, all at once.”

  Matt considered this before replying. He vividly remembered the colour, the pain, but had not experienced what sounded like the actual cause of the locus coming into existence. “The loci that I found had different colours as well. I think we need to get Kira to look in her book to find out more about them.”

  Lara took a deep breath, wiping her face. When she spoke, it was in a small voice. “I’m sorry I ran off without telling anyone. You were all so busy - and doing dangerous things to protect us. I didn’t want to get in the way, but I needed to come back.”

  Matt hugged her again. “You’re never in the way Lara. I’m sorry as well, I should have realised how important this was. It was very brave of you, and I’m glad that you managed to find your first locus. Oswald looks wonderful.”

  Thinking for a moment, Matt stood up and moved out to the landing, looking up through the open loft hatchway.

  “Oswald, would you mind popping up there and bringing the bucket down please?”

  Thankfully Oswald’s new growth had seemed to stretch out the previously rotund, plushy form more than expand it, so he pumped his wings twice and disappeared through the hatch. When he didn’t reappear immediately, Matt called up in concern.

  “Oswald? Is everything alright?”

  He started as the larger draconic head appeared at the hatch, bucket handle clasped in fang-lined jaws which was lowered enough for Matt to grab it. Placing it on the ground, he detached the water patch he had inadvertently left there when rescuing Lara and slipped it into a pocket.

  Oswald’s head snaked downward enough for him to see into the bedroom where Lara stood. “Mistress, I believe there is another of these magical anomalies, up here where we hid.”

  Lara looked conflicted – frightened, yet with a desperate eagerness as well. She joined Matt under the hatch and looked up at him uncertainly.

  He held her hand as he spoke. “The second locus was… more intense for me, but I can come up with you, if you would like? You don’t have to attune to it if you don’t want to.”

  The young girl looked torn but set her shoulders resolutely. “I want to.” She said simply.

  Matt lifted her up and through the hatch, using a stool and the rail around the stairway to boost himself up afterwards. In the dimly lit loft, he hung back as the young girl and her dragon – who now exceeded her in size – slowly approached the far side of the space. They reached out together and fastened a hand and claw around the unseen.

  Both immediately tensed, mouths gaping in momentary pain, before relaxing. They slumped back to lie on the hard flooring, panting for breath. Matt moved forward to check on them.

  “Are you okay? That looked a lot smoother than my second felt.”

  Lara said nothing but flung herself upright and latched her arms around Matt’s neck, surprising him.

  “It was painful to start off with, but that went away. It was yellow this time. But I felt everything. The way you found us, rescued us. Kept us safe from the snake.” She buried her face into the side of his neck. “Thank you!”

  A while later, the trio stood outside the front door as Lara buckled on her helmet. She had retrieved her own bike, after scouring the house for some personal items and mementoes. Alan and Matt were carrying a bag each full of clothes and books, along with whatever non-perishable food they could find. Matt also detached the fire patch from the front door frame, thankful for the swift thinking that saved both their lives in his previous visit.

  The ride back went in silence, the two adults in front of and behind Lara, as Oswald flew overhead, landing on rooftops to survey the area around their route. With the afternoon sun still bright in the sky, they hadn’t expected any encounters, but it never hurt to be careful.

  As they pulled up outside the house, Arlee and Kira rushed out the door and folded Lara in an inescapable embrace. Matty stood in the doorway, smiling broadly. Matt turned to Alan, pulling him into a grateful hug.

  “Thanks Al. You’ve been a rock for us this whole time. I never knew about your folks, but I think you really helped Lara.”

  They separated and looked over at the girls, as Matt’s wife and daughter were introduced to Oswald 2.0 by Lara who – if she was not grinning – at least had the shade of a smile at the reunion and introduction. Behind them, Matty looked on in awe as the winged reptilian form brought tales of St George to life in front of his eyes.

  Alan gave his farewells, enduring another vice-like hug from Lara with whispered thanks, and wheeled his bike back over the road. A brightly smiling Carry was waiting in the doorway, rushing out to meet him, drawing his head down into a long kiss.

  Matt ushered the others inside, dumping the bags in the hallway for sorting later on. Slumping down on the sofa, he ruffled both girls’ hair before turning to Lara.

  “How are you feeling now?”

  She looked around, face calm and cheeks freshly wiped clean by Arlee.

  “It’s good to be home again.”

  Congrats to all of you who made it to the last leg of the race with me! It would be great to get your thoughts on the story, and you've probably read enough by now to leave a well-informed review. Go on, it'll make my day!