"Is he breathing?" a young woman cried, coming to a stop next to him and resting a hand on his shoulder. Julian would have shrugged (a gesture he was becoming very familiar with as time wore on), but Aidan's weight and his own pain and exhaustion only allowed him to look on as she pressed a hand to Aidan's face.

He was getting even more tired. He continued to walk toward the House, this time with one very worried person in tow.

"Anna," he gasped. "Help."