"I spent the next day in the Hall to recover my full strength at my father's orders. The days after that though were a nightmare for me, never before had I felt so trapped. I kept switching between the Hall and the Manor, trying to keep myself sane. In the end I started to go around the village seeing if I could be any help. I would go to the village shop to get supplies or ask at one of the farms if they could spare any wood for fires as the electricity had long since failed, and I even found myself digging people out of their homes.

I did my best to stay near the Stantons and to keep an eye on Will, and I was there every morning to see how he was and to ask if they needed anything. I could tell that the others in the family were starting to think that I had a soft spot for him, and that he had a crush on me. Not that it mattered, I was older than him in more ways than one and we were both more focused on what needed to be done to find the Signs.

Despite all of the work, I still found time to sit in the grounds of the Manor. I loved snow you see. I found that it made the world look peaceful and beautiful. But this was starting to get beyond a joke. I had even contemplated going to Egypt and seeing Ottah. Something stopped me though. I had the feeling that if I left now that I might not return the same. I needed to stick by my father for this winter, even if it drove me mad to do so.

So, the days passed and soon it was the 5th January, Twelfth Day's Eve. My father and I were on our way to the shop to get supplies for the Manor. I knew that people had been told to stay inside, but I had disobeyed that order days ago so I didn't care. Besides, I was happy to be out with my father. By the time we got to the shop, after seeing a few people on the way and gaining a few shopping lists, it was late afternoon. Inside were the shopkeeper and her son, but also Mr. Stanton, Robin and Will.

"Good afternoon," My father said as he walked in.

"Hallo," Will replied.

"Oh, hi Will." I said, before nodding at the others, "Mr. Stanton, Robin. I'm sorry that I didn't have chance to come see you this morning, but I was sent on an errand."

"Afternoon." Said the shopkeeper. "Mr. Stanton, do you know Mr. Lyon. He's at the Manor."

"How'd you do?" Will's father said.

"Butler to Miss. Greythorne," father said, inclining his head respectfully. "Until Bates gets back from holiday; that is to say, when the snow stops. At present, of course, I can't get out and Bates can't get in."

"It'll never stop." The shopkeeper, Mrs. Pettigrew, wailed and burst into tears.

"Mrs. Pettigrew, it'll be alright, you'll see." I said, coming around to put my hand on her shoulder.

"I have some news for you, Mrs. Pettigrew," father said in soothing tones, "We heard an announcement over the radio, our phones being dead like yours. There is to be a fuel and food drop in the Manor's grounds, as the place most visible from the air in this snow. And Miss. Greythorne is asking if everyone would like to move into the Manor for the emergency. It will be crowded, of course, but warm and comforting perhaps."

"And Dr. Armstrong will be there." I said, glancing briefly at Will.

"He is already on his way, I believe." Father added.

"That's ambitious," Mr. Stanton said, "Almost feudal, you might say."

I saw father's eyes narrow slightly. "With no such intention."

"Oh, no, I do see that."

"What a lovely idea, Mr. Lyon! Oh dear, it would be such a relief to be with other people, especially at night." Mrs. Pettigrew said, finally stopping crying.

"I'm other people" Her son complained.

"Yes, dear, but…"

"I'll go and get some blankets and pack some stuff from the shop. " He said.

"That would be a good idea." I said.

"The radio says he storm will get very much worse this evening. The sooner everyone can gather, the better." Father said.

"Would you like some help with telling people?" Robin asked, turning up his collar.

"Excellent. That would be excellent." Father replied.

"We'll all help." Mr. Stanton said.

I watched as Will stared out of the window. "Once we're done, I could come back to yours and help you carry anything." I said, smiling.

"Maybe…" Mr. Stanton said. I didn't need to be an Old One to tell that he was thinking about not going. I glanced at my father and he got the message.

"The Rider has passed!" Will said quickly in Old Speech.

Both I and my father turned towards him, but my father recovered first. "I shall be very grateful to have assistance." He said.

"What did you say Will?" Robin asked, staring at his brother.

"Oh, nothing." He said.

"I thought you said there was someone outside, but I don't see anyone." I said, recovering myself. "But anyway, the quicker we start the sooner we can finish and get into the warm."

"But you said something in a funny language." Robin insisted.

"Of course I didn't. I just said "Who's out there?" Only it wasn't anyone anyway." He said.

Robin was still staring at Will. "You sounded just like that old tramp when he was babbling when we first put him to bed…" He started, but then gave up. "Oh well."

As we walked out of the shop, I was behind my father and he managed to get behind Will. "Get the Walker to the Manor if you can, quickly, or he will stop you from getting out yourself. But you may have a little trouble with your father's pride."

We split the village between us and we were quickly done. Most of the village said that they would pack some things as quickly as they could. I had offered help to those I thought would need it, but they all turned me down saying that they could manage. When we finally got back to the Manor, only a handful of the people were there. I was not expecting many this soon, but maybe a few more than that. After helping those few, I decided to sit outside waiting to see if anyone needed help with their stuff. Well, that and I wanted to wait for Will.

After a while, my father came out. "I thought you might like this." He said, handing me a mug of hot chocolate. "I know that you are different from others, but that does not mean you do not feel the cold. You should get inside and warm up."

"Thanks, but I'm fine out here." I said, "I'm too anxious about Will to sit in there making small talk with the locals. I'll come back in when he's here."

He sighed. "Help me set up these lamps then." He said, holding out two identical heavy duty pressure lamps. "The storm will start to worsen soon and it would be an idea to make sure that we can be seen."

We set about it and soon there was one on either side of the big front door. My father returned inside and I took my place under a Yew tree to keep an eye on the path leading to the house. I ended up helping a few people in, one of which had sprained their ankle on the way there. I quickly took them in and saw them settled before returning to my post. Each person asked if I was cold and how I could stand the weather, and to each I gave the vague answer that I rarely saw snow.

Eventually, after it had gone dark, I heard muffled footsteps heading my way and looked up to see four Stantons; Mr. Stanton, Robin, Paul and, more importantly, Will. I quickly came out from my hiding place and walked towards them. I noticed that they had a toboggan behind them that I guessed carried the Walker bundled in blankets. I saw Will look slightly relieved as he saw me melt out of the snow, while the others took longer and looked just happy to see a face amongst the onslaught of snow.

"Need a hand?" I called to them.

"It's perfectly alright." Mr. Stanton said.

"You're not staying with us for the storm then?" I asked as I turned and walked back towards the Manor with them.

"No, just dropping off someone." He said.

"Oh?"

"Yes, we had a tramp at ours…" Will started

"and we thought that he would be better off with the doctor." Mr. Stanton said, cutting Will off and not giving the others a moment to talk. I could see that Will looked disappointed by this and I motioned with my eyes for him to quicken his pace so that we could be ahead of the others meaning we would therefore be free to talk.

"Don't worry," I said quietly in Old Speech, "father will have something up his sleeve."

"I hope you're right." He replied in the same manner.

Just then we reached the door and father opened it without us having to knock. I saw him quickly glance at the Stantons and spy Will next to me. "Welcome," He said.

"Evening," Mr. Stanton said, "Shan't stay; we're fine at the house. But there's an old chap here who's ill and needs a doctor. All things considered, it seemed better to bring him here rather than having Dr. Armstrong going to and fro. So we popped out before the storm broke."

"It is rising already." He said before going to help the twins to get the Walker into the house. Just as he neared the threshold, the blankets convulsed and muffled shouts could be heard.

"The doctor, please." Father said to me just as I turned to go and get him anyway.

The short grey haired man was actually in the next room anyway, and I quickly weaved my way towards him. "Doctor, there is a new arrival who needs your attention."

"Of course," he said and followed me to the door. "What's this, eh?"

"Shock, perhaps?" Father suggested.

"He behaves very oddly," Mr. Stanton said, "He was found unconscious in the snow a few days ago, and we thought he was recovering, but now…"

The door slammed just then in a gust of wind, making the Walker scream. "Hm…" the doctor said, beckoning two boys forward to take him to another room. "Leave him to me. So far, we've got one broken leg and two sprained ankles. He'll provide variety.

Will's father started gazing out of one of the windows then. "My wife will start worrying," He said, "We must go."

"If you go now," my father said gently, "I think you will leave but not arrive. Probably in a little while…"

"The Dark is rising, you see." Will said

"How very poetic," I said, hiding a giggle. I was playing the little outsider with a crush very well, don't you think?

His father half smiled. "You are very poetic all of a sudden." He said, "All right, we'll stay just a bit. I could do with a breather, to tell the truth. Better say hallo to Miss. Greythorne in the meantime. Where is she, Lyon?"

Father, ever the dutiful butler, led us through to another room. Most of the village were crowded into the Manor and many of them called out to the Stantons as they passed from little bundles of blankets. There were a few beds scattered around in corners, but many of the people were rapped up in blankets. Despite that, everyone seemed to be in good spirits. Even Miss. Greythorne was sat in her wheelchair by the fire reading to the younger children from the village. There was so much community spirit that I was almost longing for home; almost.

"Funny," Will said as we picked our way through, "Things are absolutely awful, and yet people look much happier than usual. Look at them all; bubbling."

"They are English." Father said.

"That's right." Mr. Stanton said, "Splendid in adversity, tedious when safe. Never content in fact. We're an odd lot. You're not English, are you?" There was an odd note of uncertainty in that.

I'm not sure which of us this question was directed at, but my father answered first. "A mongrel." He said, his eyes hard. "It's a long story."

"I was born in Wales as you might guess from the accent." I said, watching father looking at Mr. Stanton.

Just then Miss. Greythorne caught sight of us. "Ah, there you are!" She exclaimed, putting the book down. "Evenin' Mr. Stanton, boys, how are you? What'd think of this, eh? Isn't it a lark?"

The children at her feet parted to let us near and the others started chatting to Miss. Greythorne. I stood off to one side of the fire with Will and my father. "Look into the fire for the length of time it takes you to trace the shape of each of the Great Signs with your right hand." Father said softly in Old Speech. "Look into the fire. Make it your friend. Do not move your eyes for all that time."

"I shall stay with you." I said, putting my hand on his arm.

We both moved forward to stand as if warming ourselves by the fire. I watched from the corner of my eye as Will traced the shape of the Signs. As he did so, we spoke to the fire as Old Ones and I as a thing of the Wild and High magics. We told it of the fires at the Sabbaths, and the fire that burns in the beacons, and the fire that burns in the halls of the great kings of old, and the fire that burns on the mountains and in the heather, and the fire that burns eternal in the temples of the old religions, and the fire that burns as the sun and the stars. I watched as his fingers finished their journey around the Signs as the fire leapt.