| It was late afternoon by the time they returned to the village from
Moreau's Cave. The great explosion that had destroyed Moreau's mountain
lair had been seen from everywhere on the island. The mad cries of the
Forsaken had risen up like a symphony from Hell in its wake. But the People
of the Pack, the Children of Minestus, they had come running home.
The underground hall of the Council Chamber was packed with bodies and
the air was filled with the jabber of frightened people.
Fred, Alicia and Loam made their way to the front and stood before the three elders. They told their story, of finding Moreau dead, of the strange golem and his tale of a world wide plague, and what he had said about a new breed of lycanthropes. A breed more human, or was it less animal? Was there a difference, Fred wondered. He was one of this new breed and when the moon was full he didn't feel very human at all. There was so much he didn't know, but right now that was the least of his worries. A whispered chorus spread through the room, "Moreau is dead?" Moreau had been master of this island for over three hundred years. She had been their keeper, their jailer. She was more constant than even the full moon. Rarely did she allow herself to be seen, but no one ever forgot that she was there. And now she was no more... "Only Minestus could have done such a thing," said someone in the crowd. "He has gone mad," another voice cried out. "He has gone mad and is destroying the world as the golem said," another grimly added. And so the voices continued, growing louder and more frightened until the room was drowned in a single, terrible voice, "He has gone mad, he has gone mad, he has gone mad." Carradene's face slowly filled with anger and his lips drew back into a snarling frown. With a shout he stood up and banged his fist down hard onto the stone table. "MADNESS!" he cried. "It is YOU who are mad!" he screamed at them, cutting short their doleful chant. All eyes were upon him, tears of fear staining their faces, their sorrowful dirge a silent whisper on their trembling lips. "Minestus and Moreau were like brother and sister!" Carradene shouted at his people. "He sent us here, she kept us here. And we were all one happy family." He chuckled grimly at these last words. "This is not his doing. There are other forces at work here. You speak of the golem. Who was he? Where did he come from? I do not know, but I can tell you this; never trust a golem, the day you do is the day you die." "Oh what are we to do?" a lost voice cried out. "When Minestus discovers what has happened to Moreau, he will burn this island back into the sea and us along with it." Carradene's words fell upon the crowd like the sentence of doom it was. "But there is so much that we do not understand. And whatever is happening here, I do not want to be another's puppet." "And I thought you enjoyed being Moreau's puppet," a dark voice sounded from the rear of the room. Carradene stiffened, his eyes searching out where the voice had come from. He could not help but notice the heads that nodded in agreement with that voice. Not many, but too many. "I have sought to keep you alive," Carradene answered slowly. "How many of us have died trying to escape from this island? How many have fallen prey to Moreau's enchantments? I have only acted to keep us alive." It was clear that the accusation pained him. It was clear that he felt that he had done as circumstances had demanded. It was clear that some were not satisfied. "And the price was our freedom, old man." "If Moreau is dead, then your freedom is at hand," Carradene answered,
poison in his voice. "If you wish to escape, then escape. I will
not stop you." His eyes blazed in anger at his people. "But we are on an
island we know not where. And Minestus did not give you wings. Where will
you go and how will you get there?"
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