It's black again. Maybe that means I'm dead. Good.

Peace.

I'm in the cell again. I don't want to be back here. It's cold. I don't like it. The prisoners are all kneeling, hands tied behind their backs. I walk along the line of Hunters, hundreds of them, thousands, a never-ending line. But now I've got a gun in my hand. I go back to the first Hunter and shoot her in the back of the head. As her body falls, I press the barrel of the gun to the back of the next head. Squeeze. As I squeeze I say the word: 'Die.'

'Die.'

'Die.'

'Shhhh, Nathan. It's just a dream. Shhhh. You're safe. You're safe.'

And I want to cry. I want it to go black. 'I don't want to go back there.'

'Shhhh. You're safe, Nathan.'

Gabriel. I want to tell him something but I've forgotten what. I try to move my arm but it's so heavy.

'Rest, Nathan. Rest.'

I need to get moving. Do something. I need to go.

'Nathan. Rest. Try to be calm.'

I'm not dead. I wish I was dead. I don't want to go back to that cell.

It's dark. I look up and see the full moon.

'Gabriel?'

'I'm here.'

'Gabriel.'

'It's OK. You've been ill. You're getting better now.'

'Why can't I heal?'

'You are healing, Nathan. Slowly. There was a lot of poison. A special bullet. Try to stay calm. Please.'

'I could ...' I'm not sure what I could do. I've forgotten.

The sky is lighter now.

'Gabriel?'

'Yes, I'm here.' I feel his hand move a little; his fingers are intertwined with mine.

'Don't leave me.'

He holds me, putting his hand gently on the side of my chest. His breath is on my neck and it's good. He's good.

'I mean, don't leave me ever.'

'I know, Nathan. I won't.'

'I wanted to die.'

He whispers, 'Rest now. Rest.'

He stays close to me and his breathing by me is good.

And later I remember what I could do. It's easy. I could kill them all.

tired.

I wake to see sky. Pale blue. Treetops. Arran's face. He's real. Not a dream. I'm not in a cell. I've not killed any Hunters. It was all just the poison, worse poison than when I was shot in Geneva, but just poison.

'Don't try to move,' Arran says.

'Gabriel?'

'I'm here.' And he touches my hand. And then I realize I don't have the strength to turn my head.

'You're looking better,' Arran says. 'How are you feeling?'

I think about it and say, 'Better. Not great.' Even speaking is exhausting. 'Tired.'

'I need to check this.' And Arran gently pulls back the bandage on my stomach. 'It's healing. Slowly. The bullet's out of you but the poison is still in. You have to drive it out. You have to heal yourself. Can you do that?'

I concentrate on healing. Nothing happens.

'Not working,' I manage to mumble.

'It will work. You haven't lost the ability; you've just used up all your energy. You need more rest, more time.'

Arran puts some cold gunk on my wounds, on my stomach and chest, and then a new set of bandages over the top. He says to Gabriel, 'I'll give him more of the potion tonight, to help him sleep. Try to keep him still.' And then to me he says, 'You will heal, Nathan. But don't be impatient.'

I close my eyes for a bit. I've never felt like this before. Even when I was shot in Geneva and had to walk back to Mercury's cottage it wasn't as bad as this. That was a magic bullet too. A Hunter bullet. But this is stronger magic.

'Do you want me to talk to you?' Gabriel asks. 'Or do you want silence?'

'Talk.'

'OK. What shall I talk about? Do you want me to tell you what happened?'

I nod.

'Was that a nod or a shake of the head?'

'Nod.'

'OK. Well, Donna shot you. She was an infiltrator after all. Celia thinks the whole thing was a set-up like the Trojan Horse. You were always meant to find that Hunter camp. If the Hunters didn't kill or capture you, they knew you'd take Donna back to the Alliance. She was supposed to join up, gain our trust and wait for the chance to kill you, but she never got the opportunity until we were at Camp One. After Kirsty was killed, she took her knife and gun. Cut out the special bullet that had been sealed in plastic and sewn into the skin of her thigh.'

Gabriel holds up a small round reddish-brown ball: the bullet. 'New magic. And seriously bad. The bullet seems to know where to go once it's inside you. It was heading for your heart, spreading poison as it moved. Eating away at your insides. It took Celia three attempts to cut it out.'

'Urgh.'

'Exactly. Everyone's very interested in the bullet. A particularly strong magic. A bit like the magic of the Fairborn, Celia thinks. The bullet wants to kill.'

I close my eyes.

'You OK?' Gabriel asks.

'Tired.' And it sounds more like 'Tyrrr ...'

'You want me to talk more or do you want to rest?'

Talk more, I mouth.

He smiles. 'I like this Nathan who is quiet and enjoys listening to me talk.'

I want to tell Gabriel things, how I like listening to him and like him being here. I can't think what to say in one simple word but I manage to mouth, Good.

'And who doesn't swear at me or walk away. This is a situation that has advantages.'

I try to smile, but have to close my eyes I'm so tired. I feel Gabriel stroke my forehead.

'OK. Where was I up to? The bullet. Concealed in her thigh. So Donna cut the bullet out, loaded the gun and waited for you. She shot you in the stomach. Got the edge of your left lung. She was aiming for a body shot. She knew the bullet would do the rest.'

Gabriel is silent for a few seconds.

'Then it went mad. She'd taken another gun too, with the usual Hunter bullets in it. Nesbitt got hit. Not seriously, just in the arm. But I'm sure he'll let you know that he took a bullet for you. Adele used her Gift, made her skin like metal and protected Nesbitt and shot Donna. Donna's dead. I didn't see it. I didn't see much of the fight I mean. I ... the way you flew through the air, the way you landed and then ... you screamed. You screamed a lot.'

I thought I'd held it back.

'Hurt,' I tell him.

He pauses then asks, 'Does it still hurt?'

I think about it. Think about my body. The bad pain has gone. I ache all over but nothing bad. I force myself to sound stronger and say, 'Just tired.'

'So. Let me finish the story. You were shot. Nesbitt was shot. Adele was the heroine of the day. Celia cut into you three times and eventually got the bullet out. You were a mess. A bloody mess. Adele cut the bullet out of Nesbitt's arm, only it seems that she's less good at first aid and she took a big chunk out of Nesbitt too. Stop smiling! He has a really ugly scar.'

I wonder what new scars I've got from all this.

'Anyway, Celia made this stretcher out of wood and our jackets in about ten seconds and we carried you back to the cut. Do you remember that?'

I think about it and then shake my head.

'Well, you were out of it by then. Anyway, we came through the cut and made camp where we came out. And here we still are, exactly where we landed ten days ago.'

'Ten?'

'Ten.'

'Urgh.'

'Celia sent Adele to get Arran and he started work on a cure for the poison. The magic is in making the bullet move to your heart. The poison is straight poison, but powerful.'

Gabriel talks some more about the poison but I can't concentrate. He goes quiet and then says, 'You should sleep now.'

But I don't want to sleep, I don't want to go back to the cell. I tell him, 'Bad dreams.'

I close my eyes and feel him stroke the hair from my forehead. He says, 'I'll stay with you.'

I want to thank him and I open my eyes to see him looking at me. His eyes are full of tears.

i want it to be true.

I have three more scars, though typical of Celia they're straight and neat. The wounds are almost healed but it's another four days before I've got the energy to get up and move slowly around camp. And we are in a camp now. One that has grown around me, it seems. There are some people I recognize and some I don't.

I sit and watch the trainees train. I'm cold and stuff my hands in my jacket pockets. I feel a bullet in each. The original Hunter bullet that Marcus took out of my back in Switzerland is a greeny copper colour and the magic bullet that Celia dug out of my chest is a browny red. They are the same size and weight. I expected the magic bullet to have a life about it, a buzz, like the Fairborn does, but it feels like any other bullet: just a dead piece of metal. Maybe it only comes to life when it's inside someone, when it tastes blood. And I know the man who made the Fairborn must have been evil; Wallend made the magic bullet and his magic is evil too.

Nesbitt comes to sit with me. He's healed too now at least his arm has. He's different: quiet, subdued.

After a few minutes he says, 'I'm leaving.'

'Leaving?'

'Leaving here, the Alliance. Leaving it all.'

It doesn't surprise me as I think he was only ever here because of Van. But I'll miss him and so will the Alliance; he's a great fighter and the best tracker. 'Where will you go?'

'Back home. Australia, I mean. Haven't been back there for years.' He laughs to himself. 'Shit, last time I was there was before you were born.'

As usual I don't know what to say. Nesbitt adds, 'I won't miss you.'