Phelan stopped laughing. His eyes moved from Tora to Argus to Harlan, as if counting to three. “What’s happened?”

“Noble is sick,” said Tora.

“We don’t know what’s wrong,” Harlan added.

Argus took a step forward. “We need your help.”

* * *

Phelan led the pack to a nearby rock formation where a deep crack in the side of the mountain provided a bit of shelter from the elements.

“Do you live here?” Argus asked, his hands gliding over the smooth face of the rock just over his head.

“Sometimes,” said Phelan. “I know of many places like this one in the forest.”

Tora looked at Argus and knew from the expression on his face that he was glad he’d decided to stay with the pack and not go off to live with Phelan.

Phelan sat down and gestured for the others to do the same. They were all in their werewolf forms, which allowed them to speak while keeping a layer of fur on their bodies to fight against the cold.

“Tell me what is wrong with Noble.”

Tora spoke first, explaining how her brother’s body was running hot, then cold; how he was unable to change his body, which was stuck between forms; how he was sick to his stomach and couldn’t eat; and —

“About the flesh,” Phelan asked. “Is it colored?”

The pack looked at each other with wide eyes.

Tora sat up, excitedly. “Yes. He’s blue all over,” she said.

Phelan nodded slowly and dragged a handful of talons over his forehead.

“Do you know what’s wrong?” Harlan asked.

The lone wolf nodded. “I think so.”

They waited for Phelan to continue, but after several moments of silence, Harlan pressed the point. “Well, what is it?”

A deep breath and a sigh. “Poison.”

“Poison?” Tora repeated in disbelief. “With what?”

“Taint of Argentum,” Phelan said. “He has all the signs.”

“Argentum?” said Harlan, lifting his head toward the stone wall above him. “Argent…that’s the French word for silver. Isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Argus. “That’s right!”

Tora thought about that. She knew, as did most people, that a silver bullet entering a werewolf’s body at any point brought on instant death.

“But that’s okay, right?” Argus said. “If we know what’s wrong with him, then we can fix it.”

Phelan shook his head. “Not easy.” A pause. “Humans use silver for medicine, but it is deadly to our kind.”

“But there has to be something we can do,” Argus said, anger and frustration, maybe even some fear for the life of his brother, evident in his voice. “We’re not going to just sit around and watch him die.”

“The taint is already within him,” Phelan said. “In his flesh…in his blood. His body must rid itself of the taint on its own. If it does, he will be stronger for it. If it does not…”