“What a mess,” Mike commented.

I was focusing on my breathing. “Is everyone okay?”

“You’re hurt.” Kanesha, a small voice.

“Just a…I think I’ll be okay.”

Thruor was already coming over to look at it. “Fortunately it was you she hit. Their claws are often poisoned.”

I flinched. “Is it…”

“Nothing to worry about.” She paused. “You’re getting your memories back.” It wasn’t a question.

“No. At least not memories of events. I just…”

“It’s fine. We’ll talk later.”

I didn’t think it was fine at all. She seemed worried. Worried that I would get mad with her, perhaps?

I might. No, whatever or whoever…she wasn’t the one responsible. “Do I have to worry?”

“Not particularly – but you need to drink this.” She tugged out a small vial.

I swallowed it quickly. It tasted vile. “Thanks.”

“I’m going to make sure nobody else got scratched.”

I felt fine…no doubt I was resistant to the poison, albeit not enough to be able to avoid the antidote. Desperate for something to take the taste away, I headed over to the van and tugged out a can of soda Mike had left under the seat, drinking from it. I felt a little unreal, but it was probably just the usual post-battle sensations.

“They won’t be back for a while,” Father Will said, finally. “But the third one’s still out there.”

“I’d say he’s less dangerous, but he might go get more friends.” I brushed back my hair.

“You’re hurt,” the priest added.

“It’s not bad.” If he tried to haul me to a hospital. They hadn’t found anything strange when I was in there with amnesia, but…

Then again, I was starting to get the feeling that the more I worked on it, the less anything I did or was would be noticed. I badly wanted to ask Mike what he had meant during the drive, but I couldn’t.

I couldn’t admit that I was feeling my way when those around me expected me to be some kind of expert.

How could I?