Delia had disappeared. This was not necessarily a cause for concern – she admittedly had a better track record of refinding the group in good time than Hadrian did, generally – so he had continued mapping the area they were in. There were interesting trees and odd herds of goat-antelope chamois about, as well as the wildflowers... and he was hoping, once they got higher into the mountains, that he might come across some legendary vampire caves. He had some garlic bulbs stuffed in his pocket, for that eventuality, and had been off walking when he heard the sound of a shotgun.

He spun on his heel, trying to register its direction – and jogged in that direction, in case it was Cordelia. More likely to scare off a brown bear than a vampire, but either way, she could be in trouble – so, heart rate elevated from the thrill of said danger, Hadrian spotted her on the ground, and scrambled hurriedly down an incline towards her, afraid that she’d been injured.

“Delia!” he said breathlessly, getting out his wand as he hastily scanned the valley... and found no bears or vampires or angry locals in sight. Who was she fighting? “What’s going on?”

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