《Weirden》 Chapter 1: The Strange and the Weird Pol was out too late. And that was why he died. He was found the next morning by Alsom, who was bringing the milk down into Galesvryg by way of the wooded path. Alsom¡¯s young daughter Calyn saw him first, as she often ran ahead of the wagon to look at whatever might catch her eye. She saw Pol some distance from the road up a hill, sitting under a tree with his hat in his hands and his head bowed over his lap, as though he was praying. "''Scuse me, sir, but what are ye prayin¡¯ to?¡± she called from the road. ¡°There¡¯s nothin¡¯ in these woods but the strange and the weird!¡± When Pol said nothing, which wasn¡¯t unusual seeing as how he was dead, she ran back to her father. ¡°Pa! Pa! There¡¯s a strange man prayin¡¯ to somethin¡¯ in the woods!¡± Calyn yelled. Alsom halted the mule. ¡°Say that again, darlin¡¯?¡± Calyn came panting up to the wagon. ¡°I say he¡¯s prayin¡¯ in the woods!¡± Alsom pushed his hat back on his head and sunk a hand into his beard in thought. ¡°Well goodness me, that surely is strange.¡± ¡°Do ye think he¡¯s weird?¡± Calyn asked, excited. ¡°Like as not. Well an¡¯ if he is, we ought to be very polite, ye hear?¡± ¡°Yessir, I hear.¡± ¡°Good girl, Calyn. Now let¡¯s jes go pay our respects, alright? But ye stay with the wagon now. Can never tell what might rile a weirdin¡¯ one up.¡± ¡°Yes, Pa.¡± He helped her up onto the box seat with him and clicked his tongue. The mule walked on, placid as a lake. When they came to Pol, Alsom stopped the mule and got off the wagon. He called out to Pol, ¡°Beggin¡¯ yer pardon, sir. I don¡¯t mean to interrupt, but I¡¯d like to pay my respects if that¡¯s alright.¡± Pol, unsurprisingly, said nothing. Alsom scratched at his chin. ¡°Must be mighty deep in the weird.¡± ¡°What do we do, Pa?¡± Calyn asked. ¡°Well, I guess we can leave him some milk for when he comes back,¡± Alsom said. ¡°Hand me that bottle, will ye? Reeve won¡¯t mind none, an¡¯ if he does, Flip¡¯ll set him straight.¡± Milk in hand, Alsom respectfully, but warily, approached Pol. As he got closer, he recognized the hat. He broke into a startled laugh. ¡°Well I¡¯ll be! Pol, ye onion, what did ye do? Get so drunk ye forgot ye sleep layin¡¯ down?¡± Pol continued his silence. Alsom came up and shook his shoulder. ¡°Alright, Pol, come on. Pitter patter, let¡¯s get-¡° Pol fell over and Alsom finally got a look at his face. Alsom dropped the milk. It shattered. He paid it no mind. ¡°Calyn, darlin¡¯,¡± he called back to the wagon. ¡°Yes, Pa?¡± ¡°Why don¡¯t ye do the milk run this mornin¡¯ for yer ole pa?¡± ¡°Really, Pa? May I, really?¡± ¡°Ye may, but first ye have to stop by Reeve Brody¡¯s house. Ye tell him the past is risin¡¯ and that yer Pa is askin¡¯ him to meet me jes past Rustler¡¯s Crick.¡± Calyn frowned. ¡°Everythin'' alright, Pa? Is the weirdin¡¯ man alright?¡± ¡°Just do as ye¡¯re tole for now. I¡¯ll esplain later,¡± Alsom said. ¡°Alright, Pa, I¡¯m goin¡¯.¡± The wagon moved off and away. Alsom had a fleeting moment of terror as he watched it go. What was he doing, sending his young daughter off on her own through the woods when good old Pol lay dead at his feet? He tugged at his beard. ¡°Be sensible, ye ole fool. What¡¯s got Pol only comes at night, ye know this better¡¯n all else.¡±
Reeve Brody was looking forward to some warm milk with a bit of honey. He¡¯d had a bad night of sleep and he¡¯d found that warm milk with a bit of honey was just the thing to ease his jangled nerves. Flip, the darling man, knew how to make it just right, too. It was the only time Brody allowed his husband the luxury of pampering him just a bit. And while he made a show of grumbling when Flip brought him breakfast in bed after a bad night, Brody did secretly very much enjoy it. ¡°Dearest,¡± his husband called from down the hall. ¡°The milk girl wants a word.¡± Brody, being grumpy and tired and very much looking forward to some nice pampering while curled up in bed, called back, ¡°What about?¡± Flip called, with an edge in his voice, ¡°You know how I feel about yelling in the house. You¡¯ll have to come to the door. She¡¯s quite insistent.¡± Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Brody allowed himself one moment to curse milk girls who didn¡¯t just drop the milk off like they were supposed to. Then he got up and put on his second best bathrobe (his first being reserved for Flip even though Flip had his own first best bathrobe) and stomped down the hall and downstairs to the front door. ¡°Be nice, grumpy bear,¡± Flip murmured in his ear before letting him into the front door. Brody, who perversely scowled the moment Flip asked him to be nice, found himself in the somewhat awkward position of glaring down at a young girl with big wide eyes. He realized with a jolt that Flip hadn¡¯t been kidding when he said milk girl. She blinked up at him. ¡°Reeve Brody?¡± Brody immediately tried to soften his affect and crouched so they were closer to eye level. ¡°Yes, honey? What¡¯s your name again?¡± She said indignantly, in a tone that said he should know this, ¡°I¡¯m Calyn.¡± He remembered now. ¡°Yes, Alsom¡¯s girl. And where¡¯s your pa today?¡± ¡°He said to tell ye that the past is¡­ is risin¡¯? An¡¯ he wants ye to meet him.¡± Brody felt like he¡¯d frozen in place. Alsom had first said that all those years ago, calling out to ghosts yet to move on, a toll for the living who stayed to bear witness¡­ he still had nightmares about it. Oh sweet lady of the meadows, not again. ¡°Alright. Where¡¯s your daddy now, sugarstick?¡± he asked past the lump in his throat. ¡°Past Rustler¡¯s Crick. I think he stayed with the weirdin¡¯ man? The weirdin¡¯ man didn¡¯t look so good.¡± Brody said, ¡°No, I can¡¯t imagine he would. Good job, Calyn. I¡¯ll let your daddy know you did well.¡± Calyn beamed up at him then scampered off to the wagon. Brody shut the door. He leaned his forehead against it and reached blindly behind him with his right hand, his left braced against the door. ¡°Flip¡­ I think it¡¯s happening again.¡± Flip caught his hand and held him from behind, hugging him tight. ¡°I heard. I¡¯m so sorry, Brody.¡± Brody let out a shuddering breath. They stood there for a minute or two. ¡°You know what?¡± Flip said, his head a reassuring weight against Brody¡¯s back. ¡°What?¡± ¡°She forgot to give us our milk.¡± Brody laughed. It sounded a bit like sobbing.
Dedicated Elaine was thoroughly unamused by the time she was tromping through the undergrowth up to where Reeve Brody and Alsom stood. She was entirely too old to be dragged out here in the middle of nowhere, in this heat, when she could have been sunning herself in the meadow and calling it prayer. She also despised being the last one called, and like as not, she usually was the last one called to anything. Last one to parties, last one to dinners, last one to funerals (funny because she was conducting the rites). Today she was the last one called to a dead body, which was novel but no less irritating. ¡°It is nearly noon, goodsirs,¡± she said tartly through gasps of winded breath when she reached them. ¡°Dedicated, I am nobody¡¯s goodsir,¡± Alsom said. ¡°But thank ye anyways. An¡¯ I don¡¯t believe it¡¯s quite noon in any case. By my estimate, we have ''bout an hour or so¡­¡± She glared at him. ¡°Close ¡®nough to noon!¡± She glared at Brody. ¡°He oughten to know better, but ye definitely should. Issues like these must be undertaken with the utmost urgency. An¡¯ why was it so important I walk!¡± Brody looked affronted. ¡°Dedicated, I assure you, utmost urgency was enacted once I was alerted to the situation. But we are walking because we are trying to minimize curiosity, which saddling up would engender. And as you¡¯ve seen for yourself, the walk here takes some time.¡± Elaine snorted. ¡°Bah. Fine. I maintain that Alsom¡¯s girl proudly ridin'' around all by her lonesome would distract from a cavalcade, but if it¡¯ll ease yer little head I can soldier on. Where is he?¡± Alsom pointed. ¡°Jes over there, Dedicated. He¡¯s startin¡¯ to smell a bit.¡± ¡°Nothin¡¯ I¡¯ve not smelled before,¡± she muttered. She sniffed. ¡°Well I take it back, never smelled a corpse that smelled like spoiled milk. If that¡¯s not a mark of the weird, then I don¡¯t know what is.¡± She looked down at Pol for a long moment. Then turned and stomped away, muttering, ¡°I was mere kiddin¡¯ but maybe it is a mark of the weird after all.¡± ¡°Dedicated, where are you going!¡± Brody exclaimed. ¡°Home! I have an appointment, thankee kindly.¡± Brody followed her. ¡°But you haven¡¯t even done anything. Please, Dedicated, we need your seal of approval so we can do something about this before it¡¯s too late. You remember what happened last time! We need to call for help.¡± ¡°Is that all? Fine, yes, ye have my approval. What do I even need to do? Ye saw that corpse sure as I did. Clear as what¡¯s happened here. But I¡¯ll tell ye, all the seals in the world won¡¯t get us what we need.¡± ¡°What we need is someone who can kill the damn thing.¡± She glared at him. ¡°For a smart young man, ye surely act yer age sometimes.¡± Brody recoiled with a scowl. ¡°I¡¯m forty-two, you bag of bones! Alright, what do you think we need?¡± ¡°Young¡¯ins these days,¡± Elaine clicked her tongue. ¡°Reeve, we need a weirdwarden.¡± Brody swore a blue streak. ¡°Weirden! They¡¯ll not come here. Ye- you know this! Last time-¡± ¡°Well but this time ye got me. An¡¯ I aim to get us one. So ye best let me be on my way afore I miss my phone call.¡± ¡°Why, who¡¯re you calling?¡± Brody asked sharply. Elaine gave him a steely look. ¡°S¡¯not about who I¡¯m callin¡¯, Reeve. S¡¯bout who¡¯s got a habit a-callin¡¯ me.¡±
The next day, Truth Reverberates In Silent Holiness, who usually went by Trish or a portmanteau of truth and silent in Selton Sign Language, followed Chatter off the train at Hammerset. Chatter glanced around at the platform before looking back at Trish. Trish smiled and nodded. She was fine. The platform was nowhere near as crowded as Trident¡¯s Crossing in Selton, although it was quite hot and underlying the hot iron and coal smell of the engine was a distinct scent of manure. She couldn¡¯t figure out where it was coming from. Chatter rolled their five eyes. They put down their bags and signed, ¡®Do you know where they¡¯re picking us up?¡¯ Trish, her own hands full, shook her head. Chatter paused, then signed, ¡®Do you know if anyone is picking us up?¡¯ Trish smiled sheepishly. Chatter gave a body language sigh that made her laugh. ¡®Don¡¯t laugh at me,¡¯ they signed furiously. ¡®When my contract comes up, I¡¯m amending it to say that you have to ask for someone to pick us up every time, or we¡¯re done. Do you know how difficult it is to get anywhere in the countryside?¡¯ Trish shook her head. She put her bag down to sign. ¡®Chat, you worry too much. We¡¯ll just ask for a cabbie.¡¯ Chatter stared at her. ¡®There are no cabbies here.¡¯ Trish looked flummoxed. ¡®You¡¯re kidding!¡¯ ¡®You don¡¯t know anything about surviving outside a city, do you?¡¯ ¡®This is my first assignment, you know,¡¯ Trish signed reproachfully. ¡®Good lesson for you, then: I want you to take a look around at how many people are looking at us.¡¯ Trish glanced around. She looked perturbed at the number of people blatantly staring. ¡®Is staring not rude out here¡­?¡¯ Chatter caught her attention then signed firmly, ¡®No, actually. But the lesson is this: cities are weird. The countryside is not. No matter what you do, you will stand out. Everything you do will be discussed. Keep this in mind.¡¯ ¡®How many of them are talking about us?¡¯ Trish signed. Chatter¡¯s ears flicked and swiveled, listening. ¡®Four. No, five, I missed one. Oh wait, that¡¯s our transport.¡¯ ¡®Ha! Cabbies. Told you so,¡¯ Trish signed. ¡®Don¡¯t act like you did this. Cabbie, my foot. Come on.¡¯ Chatter led the way off the train platform towards a small mule-drawn cart, where a gray bearded man stood hand in hand with a small girl. Trish eyed the mule with a grimace. Chatter was right. This was not a cabbie. But at least she''d figured out why it smelled like manure. Chapter 2: A Weird Deaf Girl with a Demon Calyn stared at Chatter. Chatter stared back. They blinked an eye. Calyn pointed and laughed. ¡°I win!¡± she said. Chatter looked over at Trish and signed, ¡®She won.¡¯ The three of them were in the back of Alsom¡¯s milk wagon. ¡®You¡¯re very kind,¡¯ Trish signed back. ¡®You can play too,¡¯ Chatter signed. Trish turned her head away. Alsom cleared his throat. He was driving the wagon and seemed a little uncomfortable with his daughter playing with a demon. ¡°Be nice to our guests now, ye hear? Dedicated expects us to give ¡®em some fine hospitality.¡± Chatter nudged Trish to get her attention, then translated this to Trish before saying, signing as they did, ¡°Thank you, Alsom, but I¡¯m having a wonderful time with your daughter. She has a very strong spirit! You should be proud.¡± Trish prodded Chatter, then signed, ¡®Don¡¯t talk about spirits out here. I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll go over well.¡¯ ¡®Like you know anything about country folk.¡¯ Alsom said, ¡°Well! Well, I suppose I should be proud, comin¡¯ from a weirdwarden. That¡¯s a mighty fine compliment, goodsir.¡± Chatter signed that to Trish along with ¡®told you so¡¯ and said, ¡°Ah, you flatter me, but I am only a contracted laborer. Trish here is the weirden.¡± ¡°Weirdin¡¯?¡± Alsom asked. ¡°Is she doin¡¯ it now?¡± Chatter paused before signing it to Trish, being sure to spell out Alsom¡¯s pronunciation of weirding. ¡®Accent?¡¯ Trish asked. ¡®Yes,¡¯ Chatter signed, and added, ¡®I think our little portmanteau of weirden hasn¡¯t made it out into the countryside yet. Should I explain, Warden?¡¯ Trish nodded, curious. She¡¯d never met anyone unfamiliar with weirdens before. Chatter said, ¡°You¡¯ve noticed I act as Trish¡¯s interpreter, yes?¡± Calyn said, ¡°Is that what all the-¡° she flailed her hands, ¡°is?¡± ¡°Precisely.¡± ¡°How come she doesn¡¯t just talk?¡± Calyn asked. Trish snorted. ¡®She¡¯s so blunt. It¡¯s adorable.¡¯ Alsom said, ¡°Calyn! That¡¯s very rude.¡± Chatter said, ¡°It¡¯s a fair enough question, goodsir. She doesn¡¯t talk because she is deaf. About a third of the weirdwarden are. I¡¯m how she hears and speaks.¡± Trish signed, ¡®Don¡¯t get full of yourself.¡¯ Chatter added, ¡°Well, most of the time.¡± They smiled cheekily at Trish, who rolled her eyes fondly. ¡°Well I¡¯ll be!¡± Alsom exclaimed. ¡°A third! Why is that?¡± Chatter said, ¡°No one knows for sure. Some say, when a sense is missing, the weirding sense can become very powerful. But others say that weirding is just living in the spaces that don¡¯t usually get lived in, and that¡¯s easier to do when you don¡¯t live like most folks.¡± ¡®Please. I¡¯m just that special,¡¯ Trish signed jokingly. ¡°Weirdwardens all know Selton Sign Language or have contracts who do. And since weirdwarden is a mouthful, or rather, a handful,¡± they demonstrated the sign again, slower, ¡°we shorten it down to one motion that means weirdwarden,¡± they demonstrated the portmanteau slowly, ¡°but translates in the spoken word to weirden. So if you ever hear me say weirden, that¡¯s all I mean.¡± ¡°But what if she is weirdin¡¯?¡± Calyn asked. Chatter smiled. Their smile was a little unnerving, on account of too many teeth. ¡°You¡¯ll be able to tell if things are getting weird, believe me.¡± ¡°Are ye weird?¡± Calyn asked. ¡®Most definitely,¡¯ Trish signed, amused. Chatter said, ¡°Why do you ask?¡± ¡°Cause ye got five eyes an¡¯ red fur an¡¯ pointy teeth an¡¯ horsey ears an¡¯ hooves an¡¯ all.¡± ¡°I see. Yes, you¡¯re right. I am weird.¡± She evaluated them. ¡°Weird¡¯s not so bad,¡± she decided. Trish beamed. Calyn continued, ¡°We met a weird man yestermorn.¡± Alsom said, sharply, ¡°We¡¯re not talkin¡¯ bout him right now, dear.¡± Calyn frowned. ¡°Yes, Pa.¡± Chatter and Trish exchanged looks. Trish signed, ¡®I don¡¯t think she knows he¡¯s dead. I suppose they¡¯re trying to keep it a secret.¡¯ Chatter signed, ¡®We might have a problem when we get there, then.¡¯ Trish nodded, then turned away to think on it. She fell asleep after a few minutes. It had been an early morning on not much sleep.
It was getting dark by the time they arrived in Galesvryg. Alsom took them straight to the Reeve¡¯s house, which was on the outskirts of the little town. ¡°Ye¡¯ll be stayin¡¯ with the Reeve,¡± he said, pulling up in front of the house. Chatter carefully eased the sleeping Calyn off of them, where she had been snuggled into their fur, and signed this to Trish. Trish signed, ¡®Perfect. That gives us a chance to look at the body tonight.¡¯ Chatter gave her a look. ¡®Surely that can wait until the morning. You¡¯re exhausted and you haven¡¯t eaten since breakfast.¡¯ ¡®I slept on the train and in the wagon. But¡­¡¯ she hesitated, ¡®Yes, fine, we¡¯ll have a small snack, if we can impose on our hosts.¡¯ If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Flip answered the door with a bustle of hospitality. ¡°Oh, welcome, welcome-¡° He stopped and stared at Chatter. Chatter swept into a bow and began signing as they spoke. ¡°Greetings, honored host. I am Chatter, but for the purpose of this trip, I am merely an interpreter for Warden Trish. Please speak directly to her.¡± Flip recovered and turned to Trish. ¡°Oh, of course. Forgive my rudeness, Warden. I meant no disrespect. It¡¯s just been so long since we¡¯ve had a weirden I¡¯d forgotten about the contracts. I¡¯m Flip. Reeve Brody¡¯s my husband.¡± ¡®It¡¯s forgiven and forgotten,¡¯ Trish signed. ¡®Thank you for taking us into your home in such a trying time.¡¯ Alsom grunted as he got the last of the bags off the wagon. ¡°There we are. I think that¡¯s all. We¡¯ll jest be off then, Warden, thankee.¡± Trish signed, ¡®Thank you for the ride, Alsom. And Calyn, thank you for being such good company! Are you sure there¡¯s nothing we can do to repay you for your kindness?¡¯ Alsom waved a hand. ¡°Please, Warden, it was nothin¡¯.¡± Flip said, ¡®Alsom, are you staying somewhere in town? We can¡¯t have you going all the way back home at this time of day. We might be a bit cramped here but-¡° Alsom smiled. ¡°Don¡¯t ye worry bout it, Flip. The Dedicated¡¯s offered us to stay over.¡± He tipped his hat, hopped on the cart, and with a slow clip clop, the donkey towed its passengers away. Chatter said, ¡°Where can we put our bags?¡± Flip held up a hand. ¡°Oh no, please. Allow me to move them for you. Why don¡¯t you go on in? Brody¡¯s just inside fussing over snack plates. I¡¯m sure you must be hungry.¡± ¡®The best hosts are mind-readers,¡¯ Trish signed. ¡®We would be most grateful. Thank you.¡¯ Trish entered the house. It was lit through by crystal lamps that hummed quietly with magic. She was surprised by how modern it was, after being confronted by the donkey-drawn milk wagon. There was the family room immediately to the right, and the kitchen was plainly visible through a door in its far wall. She smelled something amazing and led Chatter inside. Reeve Brody looked up from where he sat at the table. ¡°Warden, welcome-¡° he froze when Chatter entered the kitchen. Trish, her eyes focused on the plates of food, missed his reaction, leaving the introductions to Chatter. She quickly took a seat and started to eat. She groaned in delight. ¡®This is above and beyond,¡¯ she signed, looking up. She slowed eating when she realized Chatter hadn¡¯t taken a seat yet and Brody sat rigid across the table from her. Trish frowned. ¡®Is there something wrong?¡¯ she asked. Brody said something, then looked frustrated when she said nothing. Chatter moved so Trish could see them both but stopped when Brody pointed at them. They didn¡¯t translate, their shoulders raised, ears flat, and their body stiff with tension. Trish rapped on the table. Both looked at her. She waved between them and pointed at her ears before signing, ¡®If there¡¯s a problem here, tell me about it before it gets worse.¡¯ She pointed at Brody. ¡®You first. Reeve Brody, I presume?¡¯ Chatter began interpreting again. Brody said, ¡°I understand that demons are a fact of life in the city, Warden, but out here people don¡¯t understand. You need to send it away.¡± Chatter hesitated, then added, ¡®I don¡¯t think he knows how rude such a request is. He¡¯s clearly unsettled by me. But I must stay with you.¡¯ They signed again, agitated, ¡®I must!¡¯ Trish signed, ¡®Be easy, Chatterwell. I won¡¯t dismiss you so easily. Clear?¡¯ Chatter signed, ¡®Clear.¡¯ Their body language relaxed. Trish turned to Brody, fixing her attention on him so she made it clear who she was addressing. ¡®I don¡¯t need them to understand for me to be effective,¡¯ Trish said. ¡®But I do need Chatter. They allow me to effectively communicate in a timely and mana responsible way. In case you didn¡¯t realize, let me gently remind you that I am deaf, Reeve.¡¯ ¡°You could write on paper. We could all write on paper,¡± he said, studiously avoiding eye contact with Chatter. Easier said than done sometimes. ¡®What are the literacy rates out here?¡¯ Trish asked pointedly. Brody shook his head. ¡°Anything is better than another weird thing, Warden. If you¡¯re not careful, this¡­ demon might be blamed.¡± ¡®If you truly believe you don¡¯t need more weird, you shouldn¡¯t have called in a weirden,¡¯ Trish said. Brody sighed, burying his face in his hands. ¡°You weren¡¯t exactly my idea, Warden. I wanted a hunter.¡± Trish snorted. ¡®You wanted a mundane hunter with traps. Instead you got a weird deaf girl with a demon. And I wanted someone who knew what they were getting into. Instead I got you. I think we might be in the same boat.¡¯ Brody¡¯s lips quirked up. ¡°When you put it like that¡­¡± They looked at each other in a moment of shared humor. Trish, not unsympathetic, signed, ¡®Can you work with what you¡¯ve got, Reeve? I think I can.¡¯ He looked at Chatter in trepidation. ¡°I¡¯ll try. I guess we¡¯ll see.¡± Trish nodded. ¡®We will see. In fact, let¡¯s go see now.¡¯ She polished off the last bite of salami. ¡°See what now?¡± She stood up and stretched. ¡®The body, of course. Thank you for the food.¡¯
The oil lamplight was steadier than candle flame, but Trish still squinted. They were in the morgue, a small hut on the top of a rocky scree far enough from the town to make people less nervous about the living dead. Brody did have a key to it after all. The body was laying on one of the two slabs carved through with preservation and clarity runes. They were reasonable quality, but a crystal light would still short them out. Trish thought it was funny how she¡¯d never noticed how good the electrical lighting in Selton morgues were until she found herself in one without it. As Trish pulled on her gloves, she sniffed the air and made a face. She checked the runes that prevented the corpse from smelling of corpse, but they were functioning. She signed, ¡®Where is that spoiled milk smell coming from? I¡¯m sure it¡¯s not the body.¡¯ Brody, lurking by the door with his arms folded tight over his chest, said shortly, ¡°Ask Alsom.¡± Trish gave him a puzzled look. ¡®Okay then. Are you ready?¡¯ Brody snapped, ¡°Kid, I¡¯ve been on the job twenty years. Course I¡¯m ready.¡± Chatter paused. ¡°Are you sure you want me to say that?¡± Brody glanced at them. His annoyance faded to caution as he looked at the demon. As fresh-faced as she was, weird as she was, the kid was a Warden. Some respect was owed. He uncrossed his arms with a sigh and said, ¡°No. I¡¯m sorry. This is difficult for me. Please tell her I¡¯m ready when she is.¡± Trish nodded. She pulled the sheet down in a precise but gentle movement. There lay Pol, still in his milk-stained clothes. The runes did their work keeping the effects of time from eating away at him, so Trish was clearly able to see the blood on his ears and the black spiderwebbing around his shut eyes. She gently raised his eyelids, leaning over him to look into his eyes. She stepped back, looking at Brody. ¡®You didn¡¯t need me to confirm this death. You already know what¡¯s caused this. I¡¯m here because I¡¯m deaf, yes?¡¯ His jaw tightened. ¡°Yes,¡± he admitted. ¡®How is it that you¡¯re familiar with the marks of a banshee?¡¯ ¡°It happened before. Twenty years ago. Give or take.¡± She nodded. ¡®I¡¯ll need that story soon. But not at night. And definitely not tonight. We should return to the house quickly. It wouldn¡¯t be good for you two to be caught outside.¡¯ Trish turned back to Pol. She took one last look at his white milky eyes before shutting them. She peered at his ears, noting the blood stains running out and down his neck. Then she put a hand on his head, bowed her head, and stood in silent witness of his death. When she was finished, she pulled the sheet back over the top of his head, pulled off her gloves, and put them into a small drawbag embroidered with a ¡®D¡¯. This she handed to Chatter, who held it in their hand for a moment and then didn¡¯t in the next. She turned to Brody. ¡®You¡¯ve told everyone to stay indoors past midnight?¡¯ His face twisted. ¡°No. They usually do anyway and¡­ I don¡¯t want a panic.¡± She signed, ¡®I disagree with your decision. I think what you¡¯re doing is reckless. I think you¡¯re lucky this poor fool thought he could go out under a sliver of a moon, because now you know what¡¯s potentially waiting for the full moon in two weeks.¡¯ Brody bristled. Trish continued, ¡®But ultimately that¡¯s not my concern. I¡¯m here for the weird. Mundanes aren¡¯t within my jurisdiction.¡¯ ¡°Good,¡± Brody said. ¡°I don¡¯t need you scaring people.¡± She looked at him steadily. ¡®Know this: if I determine that the people of this town are acting to disrupt the natural order of the weird, then a response is my prerogative.¡± Brody squared his jaw. ¡°I won¡¯t let it come to that, Warden.¡± Trish looked solemn. ¡®I hope not.¡¯
Flip showed Trish and Chatter to a bedroom across the hall from the master bedroom upstairs. Trish tapped the rune by the door, illuminating the room with clumps of crystal scattered around, some on shelves, others suspended from the ceiling, and more lining the floor along the wall. In the warm bright glow, Trish looked at the shelves with books ranging from children¡¯s to adults, the stuffed animals on the bed, and the painted vines and animals on the wall. She signed, ¡®You have a child?¡¯ Flip smiled. ¡°Rill. He¡¯s staying with my parents in Selton for the week. Well, I say he¡¯s staying with them, but I believe he¡¯s mostly with his friends and only going home to eat, sleep, and bathe. You know how it is with university kids.¡± Trish nodded and looked at the stuffed animals with a smile. Chatter flung themselves into an armchair in the corner of the room, signing as they said, ¡°How convenient. Now you don¡¯t have to worry about your child dying.¡± Trish wasn¡¯t looking. She¡¯d picked a jackalope off the bed and was smoothing down the fur around its eyes with a mildly amused if focused expression. She was trying to help it see. Flip heard though. He winced. ¡°I- yes.¡± He looked out the window at the lights of the village. ¡°How convenient for us.¡± Chapter 3: Our Blood-Soaked Earth Flip came down the stairs in Brody¡¯s first best bathrobe the next morning, bleary eyed and intent on fixing a pot of coffee. It hadn¡¯t been a restful night. He paused at the foot of the steps. Trish sat on one of the windowsills in the family room, curtains tweaked open to let in the weak pre-dawn light, looking out with an exhausted but thoughtful expression. She held a string cradle twined through her fingers. ¡°Oh. Good morning,¡± he said, a little flustered. She didn¡¯t react, fingers flicking smoothly through the cradle. He immediately felt foolish. ¡°She¡¯s deaf, Flip, come on,¡± he said to himself. He chuckled, then slipped into the kitchen. When the smells of coffee reached her, Trish stirred. Flip smiled at her when she entered the kitchen. She smiled wanly back. He poured her a cup. They sat together and watched the sun rise through the kitchen window. Trish sighed and put her head on the table. Flip let her rest.
Brody was spreading jam on his toast and just going for a fresh glob when the demon said, ¡°Now is a good time to hear about the last banshee.¡± Brody dropped his knife into the jam. Flip chuckled nervously. ¡°Over breakfast?¡± Brody looked up at the demon, who pointedly looked at Trish, who was looking at him. She licked butter off her thumb then sat back with a mug of coffee, idly bringing her foot up onto the seat of her chair. She looked as tired as Brody felt. No milk and honey in bed for him this morning. Partly because there were things to do, partly because they hadn¡¯t gotten milk yesterday since Alsom had to choose someone not to receive milk, partly because he still hadn¡¯t gotten the smell of spoiled milk out of his nose yet. Trish balanced the mug on her knee and signed, ¡®We have much to do, Reeve. Unless you want to issue a public warning, this is how we avoid more deaths.¡¯ Flip said, ¡°Over breakfast it is, then.¡± Brody said, ¡°We can take this elsewhere, Flip.¡± ¡®Yes, I¡¯m sorry, Flip. I didn¡¯t mean to make you uncomfortable,¡¯ Trish signed. ¡®I wouldn¡¯t dream of disrespecting your hospitality.¡¯ ¡°No, no, I¡¯ll stay,¡± he said. He leaned into Brody. ¡°If that¡¯s alright with you?¡± Brody pressed a kiss to his forehead. ¡°Always.¡± Trish took a sip of her coffee, looking between the two of them with a faint smile. Brody bit his toast and chewed. His mouth was dry so he took a gulp of coffee. Then, because he ran out of things to put in his mouth, he started to speak. ¡°I was two years into my deputyship the last time this happened.¡± ¡°This was about twenty years ago,¡± Flip contributed, pulling the knife from the jam jar and swiping it on Brody¡¯s abandoned toast. Brody nodded. ¡°Yes, twenty years or so. I guess I was around your age, Warden. I was called out to the Ferrow¡¯s farm to help find their daughter. She¡¯d gone to a friend¡¯s house two days prior. When she didn¡¯t come home that night, they¡¯d assumed she was staying over. When she didn¡¯t come home the next day, they thought something was wrong. After asking around, the Reeve and I decided to form up a search party and comb the part of the woods she would have cut through. We found her, dead, much like Pol. Sitting against a tree, eyes like spider eggs, ears burst. It was clear to everyone that something weird had gotten her. The Reeve sent a report to Selton asking for a weirdwarden, but the Ferrows were mad as hell. They wanted blood. They didn¡¯t want to wait. They put an ad for a hunter in the Selton Times. Within days the town was swamped.¡± Trish frowned. ¡®And the weirden?¡¯ Brody shook his head. ¡°No sign. We had no word on the weirden. The Reeve took one look at all the hunters and realized it was about to turn into a bloodbath. Not that anybody knew the weird thing was a banshee at that point, but she probably had a bit of a weird sense herself. So she handed the reins over to me and took herself off to Selton. Said she¡¯d be back in a day or two with a weirden. And so there I was, just a kid, with a town fit to bursting with bloodthirsty idiots and a weird we didn¡¯t know. Of course, it all went horribly wrong the day the Reeve left.¡± Brody sipped his coffee, bracing himself. Flip rubbed his back soothingly. Brody cleared his throat. ¡°The hunters went out en masse at all hours of the day and night. Thinking back on it, it was a miracle nobody got killed in those early days.¡± ¡®Not a miracle. A big crowd likely frightened the banshee away,¡± Trish signed. ¡®They dislike constant activity.¡¯ Brody¡¯s mouth thinned. ¡°That was true until after the hunters found a¡­ a nest. They approached it during the day, because they thought everything would be asleep. They killed everything inside. But they only killed the babies. Not that they knew at the time. So they planned a big party to celebrate. The Ferrows were going to foot the bill. And, well. Mama banshee was beside herself. When I stopped by the Ferrow farm the next morning¡­ it was a charnel house. Twenty some people and almost every Ferrow, flesh laid bare to the bone. The only survivor was Alsom, and he¡¯d been inside sick with a fever that night. Every night after that was terrible. All we knew was that if we stepped outside a building after midnight, we stood a good chance of dying. And the screams of the thing.¡±If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. He shuddered. ¡°You¡¯ve never heard anything like it. Sorry. I never heard anything like it. Three days went by like that: sleeping in the day, terrified and helpless at night. And then the Hunter came. He¡¯d gotten wind of the Ferrows¡¯ offer and figured he could do it. Alsom agreed to pay up if his family was avenged. The next day, the Hunter dropped the head of this terrible creature in the town square and demanded payment. It was then the weirden arrived, Reeve in tow. The weirden fined the Hunter, the town, and Alsom, then took the head and left. Said something about weird rights. The Reeve was forced into semi-retirement, not that she minded. I think she felt guilty about leaving it with me, but I don¡¯t think a weirden would have ever come if she hadn¡¯t left. After about a year or so, I was Reeve. And that¡¯s the story.¡± Trish signed, ¡®I¡¯m very sorry, Reeve Brody. It¡¯s a terrible thing that was done to your community. You were very brave to deal with it by yourself when you were so inexperienced. I actually recognize this story. The village was never named but¡­¡¯ Brody sneered. ¡°So we¡¯re a teachable moment for young weirdens? Good to know.¡± She shook her head, leaning forward. ¡®No, you misunderstand. You were a seminal case for why weirden service shouldn¡¯t be reserved for the whims of the nobility. You¡¯re the reason I¡¯m able to be here today.¡¯ ¡°I¡¯m so glad our blood-soaked earth had a purpose,¡± Brody spat, shoving back from the table. He went and stood at the sink, hands gripping the metal tight. He stared sightlessly out at the woods. He was breathing hard, he noticed abstractly. The kitchen was deathly silent behind him. Brody slowed his breathing. He sunk his head below his shoulders for a moment, shutting his eyes. A gentle hand pressed on his shoulder. ¡°Do you want some air?¡± Flip asked quietly. Brody shook his head. He turned to the table, leaning back against the sink. He reached out to grab Flip¡¯s hand for a moment. They held their gaze. Then he sighed and looked back to the table. Trish was unreadable. The demon was alarmed. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Brody said. ¡°That was uncalled for.¡± The demon said, ¡°Trish says it¡¯s fine. She thinks she was maybe a bit indelicate. But I think you apologize a lot for things within your control.¡± Brody noticed it didn¡¯t sign that last bit. He thought that was cheating, but what else did he expect from a demon?
Trish looked sympathetically at Brody. He was clearly very affected by his last encounter with a weirden. She didn¡¯t blame him. To think that this was the village of that horrible injustice, both to the village and the weird¡­ Still. On to practical matters. She was here now and that was what mattered. She signed, ¡®Thank you for sharing. That must have been difficult. But now that I understand the context, I can see why you were reluctant to share the news of the banshee¡¯s attack. My suggestion was made without consideration of your town¡¯s history. I can only apologize for giving you bad advice out of ignorance and praise your wisdom in not taking it.¡¯ Brody looked at her sharply, searching her face. Whatever he saw, he must have liked. His own features softened a bit and he said, ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡®How do you intend to explain my presence?¡¯ she asked. ¡®I¡¯m not exactly subtle.¡¯ ¡°If you just left the demon-¡° ¡®Chatter is non-negotiable when dealing with humans. Other than that, I am willing to follow instructions regarding movement. But we move together,¡¯ Trish signed firmly. Brody pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡°Fine. If that¡¯s how it must be. Since we can¡¯t hide your weird, could you say you¡¯re¡­ performing an inspection?¡± ¡®An inspection of what?¡¯ Trish asked, genuinely bemused. ¡°I don¡¯t know. You¡¯re the weirden,¡± Brody said defensively. Flip said, ¡°What about the land in general? Is that something you do?¡± ¡®No, not really. Usually it¡¯s only when the land holds some sort of unique potential that must be monitored semi-regularly.¡¯ ¡°Perfect. Then you can say the folks in Selton have noted potential here and want you to inspect.¡± ¡®And if people ask what sort of potential?¡¯ ¡°I¡¯m sure you can think of something,¡± Flip said with a charming smile. Trish evaluated that. ¡®I suppose.¡¯ Brody said, ¡°What else do you need?¡± Trish signed, ¡®First, what have you told the public about that man¡¯s death?¡¯ ¡°Pol. His name was Pol.¡± ¡®Pol. Yes. Forgive me.¡¯ Brody ran his hand down his face. ¡°Nothing. Fortunately he¡¯s always been a bit of a loner. No family to speak of to insist on seeing the body. We said he fell while walking in the woods and hit his head.¡± Trish nodded. ¡®That¡¯ll do for now, as long as no one else dies. Let me be clear: someone will likely die without precautions if I don¡¯t find the banshee. Banshees are territorial, so this one won¡¯t go far. It¡¯s likely this one has been in the area for years without incident.¡¯ ¡°An incident. Nice name for a murder. Why now? Why not just leave us be?¡± Brody asked. Trish signed, ¡®I¡¯m not sure. That¡¯s something to find out. But keep in mind they often don¡¯t mean to cause harm. They usually don¡¯t realize what they are doing until after it¡¯s done. Sometimes they never do.¡¯ Brody¡¯s face twisted. ¡°Don¡¯t mean to cause harm!¡± ¡®Not usually, no.¡¯ ¡°But-¡° ¡®What happened to your town was an extremely rare tragedy. Likely the banshee parent went mad after their children were murdered.¡¯ ¡°And what about what happened to Pol? The Ferrow girl? They¡¯d done nothing to the creature!¡± ¡®Tragic accidents. A banshee knows better than to speak in front of humans, but they weep when they are alone by nature. They sometimes doesn¡¯t notice when someone else is there.¡± ¡°Does it know it can kill us with its voice?¡± Flip asked. ¡®Yes.¡¯ ¡°You can¡¯t tell me Pol died of an accident,¡± Brody said. ¡°Not when those things know what they can do.¡± ¡®It¡¯s a difficult case, Reeve. It might be an accident. It might not be. That¡¯s why I was sent. I must sit in judgement of the weird and determine if this was an accident or if the banshee intended to take a life. If the first, I must work with the banshee to ensure they understand proper procedures for living near human settlements or relocate them. If the second¡­ that¡¯s more complicated.¡¯ Brody shook his head. ¡°A murder is a murder.¡± Trish signed, ¡®You have the right to think so, but please remember: you do not have the jurisdiction to interfere.¡¯ Brody said, ¡°As long as you or the thing don¡¯t interfere with mine.¡± Trish signed, ¡®Thank you. Now, please show me where he was found, and we¡¯ll figure out where to go from there.¡¯ Chapter 4: I Ought to Smell Like Corpse Dedicated Elaine was in the general store bakery getting cake. The bakery did not have cake, but she enjoyed the challenge. ¡°Now I know for a fact ye have those tasty little ones, and don¡¯t ye lie to me, young lady! I can smell cinnamon sugar a mile away.¡± Merry, a stout young woman who usually had a beautiful smile, put her hands on the counter and growled, ¡°Look, ye miserable hag! Look at the display case! What do ye see there! Cakes? No! We don¡¯t have any! And if ye don¡¯t like it ye can damn well-¡° The door behind her swung open and Barry, a thin man with sharp eyes, came out, dusting his hands on his apron. ¡°Merry!¡± Merry glanced at him and asked sweetly, ¡°Yes?¡± Barry looked at Elaine. ¡°What did ye want, Dedicated?¡± Merry said, ¡°Oh Barry-¡° Barry said, ¡°Come on, Merry, just give the woman what she wants. She¡¯s a woman of the cloth, isn¡¯t she? Now what¡¯ll it be?¡± Dedicated Elaine smiled. ¡°That¡¯s how ye treat a priest! Shame on ye, Merry. Toyin¡¯ with the ole woman what baptized ye.¡± Merry humphed. Barry said, ¡°As ye say, Dedicated. An¡¯ so?¡± Elaine said, ¡°I¡¯ll take two of those little cinnamon cakes what ye had last week.¡± Barry stared at her. ¡°I will say this once, an'' only once, Dedicated, but if what ye want isn¡¯t in the display case, ye best choose again or else. That¡¯s the rule an'' well ye know it.¡± Dedicated Elaine looked at him with a steely expression. ¡°Boy, if ye don¡¯t-¡° She saw something out the corner of her eye and turned to look. ¡°Dedicated?¡± Barry asked. Elaine dismissively waved her hand. ¡°Ye know what? Ye¡¯re right. I¡¯ll take three of those moon things... No, wait. Four.¡± Merry looked out the window but saw nothing. Just the pigeons in the square. Barry nudged her and said, ¡°See? Problem solved. Get her the crescents.¡± He went back into the kitchen. ¡°Right,¡± Merry said slowly. She pulled the bread rolls out, wrapped them, and had to call for Elaine¡¯s attention to hand them over. Elaine passed over payment, which Merry started to count in an old ritual. Elaine headed for the door. Merry called after her, ¡°Dedicated! Wait! Ye- oh, ye didn¡¯t short-change us. Huh! Never mind.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll do it next time!¡± Elaine yelled back and left. Merry craned her neck to look through the window to follow her. Her jaw dropped. ¡°Barry! She¡¯s finally done it! She¡¯s gotten so pissed at us for not havin¡¯ cake she¡¯s only lost her mind an¡¯ summoned a demon! Woe is we!¡± Barry replied, ¡°Woe? No! If it makes cakes we might have to borrow it. The Dedicated¡¯s right, there¡¯s a market for cake.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t ask to borrow a demon!¡± ¡°An¡¯ why not? Can ask to borrow sugar.¡± Merry thought about it. ¡°Huh. Well mebbe ye can.¡± She watched for a moment longer. ¡°I don¡¯t think we can borrow it, Barry.¡± ¡°How¡¯s that now?¡± ¡°Cause the Reeve¡¯s over there too, an¡¯ ye know how he feels ''bout things gettin¡¯ weird.¡± Barry stuck his head out of the kitchen to squint through the window. ¡°Well mebbe- gosh that thing is red. Hard to steal. Mebbe if we dyed it?¡± ¡°Steal? Who said anythin'' ''bout stealin¡¯?¡± ¡°Well it¡¯s a demon, isn¡¯t it? Gotta show it who¡¯s boss.¡± ¡°By stealin¡¯ it?!¡± He shrugged. ¡°How else are we gonna impress it? Bread?¡± ¡°Not yers, anyway.¡±
In the otherwise sleepy village of little cottages clustered around in neat rows along carefully laid gravel paths, Chatter easily spotted the old woman sprinting across the street towards them, her eyes focused on Trish. Chatter tapped Trish on the shoulder and pointed. ¡°Reeve?¡± they asked. Brody, who¡¯d been silently leading the way through town, turned around. ¡°Yes? Oh. Dedicated, good morning,¡± he said. Chatter signed to Trish, ¡®This is a Dedicated.¡¯ Trish signed, ¡®The one who took in Alsom and Calyn for the night?¡¯ Chatter turned to ask the Dedicated when they paused, startled. The Dedicated approached, signing as she said, ¡°Good morning, everyone! Warden, welcome. I hope you slept well. I was just picking up some breakfast for my own guests, but I thought perhaps you might like something to eat?¡± Chatter smiled and stepped aside. Trish grinned, elated. She signed, ¡®Good morning, Dedicated. You sign very well! We¡¯ve already had breakfast, but thank you.¡¯ Brody said, ¡°Thank you, Dedicated, but we¡¯ve already eaten.¡± Elaine ignored him to sign with Trish. Brody huffed in irritation. Chatter arched its neck over to Brody. ¡°If you want, I can tell you what they¡¯re saying.¡± Brody eyed them and took a deliberate step away. ¡°Unless it¡¯s something I should know, I¡¯m good.¡±If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Chatter shrugged. ¡°Suit yourself.¡± The Dedicated signed, ¡®I spent a lot of time in the Selton Warren. Learning sign was easier than not learning it! I¡¯m Dedicated Elaine. And you must be Trish.¡¯ Trish signed enthusiastically, ¡®Yes! I am! You even got my nickname right. But how do you know me?¡¯ ¡®I called for you!¡¯ Trish clapped. ¡®Ah, I see. You¡¯re Dender¡¯s friend. It¡¯s so nice to meet you.¡¯ ¡®And you! He talks about you all the time. Now, is the Reeve here being nice?¡¯ Brody straightened. ¡°That was me, wasn¡¯t it? That sign?¡± Chatter was impressed, but instinctively lied. ¡°No.¡± Brody looked at them. ¡°Mmmhm.¡± Trish signed, ¡®He¡¯s a bit prickly, but otherwise he¡¯s very accommodating. It did take some convincing just to let Chat around and about. Oh, this is my Vox, Chatter.¡¯ Chatter bowed. The Dedicated signed, ¡®Well met, Chatter. What a magnificent demon you are! I thought I smelled a Grand Nega, but I couldn¡¯t be sure. Don¡¯t have much of a nose for it. But your fur stinks of blood!¡± Chatter preened. ¡®Thank you, Dedicated. You stink of flowers.¡¯ ¡®Flatterer,¡¯ Elaine signed, amused. ¡®I ought to smell like corpse.¡¯ Chatter grinned, sharp and toothy. ¡®You do. A nice fresh one, laid out in flowers and smudged with sweet ash. But I was told it wasn¡¯t polite to say such things. Isn¡¯t that right, Trish?¡¯ Trish signed, ¡®Yes, but she¡¯s a Dedicated, Chat. She¡¯s supposed to smell like that.¡¯ Brody, watching the street anxiously and sternly glaring at a few early risers stopping to gawk, coughed. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind, Dedicated?¡± Elaine said, signing, ¡°O¡¯ course, Reeve. Ye must be tryin¡¯ to get out to the scene o¡¯ the crime afore everyone starts starin¡¯ at yon demon here. Though like as not, the bakers are eyein¡¯ ¡®em up already, the scallywags. Oh, afore ye go: here, demon. An offerin¡¯ from one servant to another.¡± Elaine passed over a roll. Chatter took it with both hands, eyeing it in a puzzled way. ¡°Thank you,¡± they said. ¡°I will keep it always.¡± Elaine snorted. ¡°Ye¡¯re supposed to eat it, dummy. So much as ye can eat Barry''s rolls.¡± Chatter considered the roll, then unhinged their secondary jaw. Brody looked away quickly, blood leaving his face. Chatter delicately placed the roll on their tongue and swallowed it whole. ¡°Deeeeelicious. Thank you.¡± Trish held up a hand, drawing the Dedicated¡¯s attention. She signed, ¡®A moment, Dedicated.¡¯ ¡¯Yes?¡¯ ¡¯You knew of the banshee when you called, did you not?¡¯ Elaine¡¯s eyebrow rose. ¡®I did. I said as much- were you not informed?¡¯ ¡¯There was no notice on the job sheet. It¡¯s fortunate that I had just that day recovered from an illness, or I would have been at enclave with the other unassigned deaf weirdens for the solstice. As it was, I received a note from Dender only just in time to beg the job off Senda.¡¯ ¡¯Lucky Senda, then, that you were there. But did Dender not inform you?¡¯ Trish signed, ¡®His note made no mention of it. Perhaps he thought it would have been on the job description. It should have been.¡¯ Elaine frowned thoughtfully. ¡®Then you don¡¯t have any of your equipment.¡¯ ¡¯Some. The most important things. The rest can be devised by other means.¡¯ Elaine shook her head. ¡®I just pray you have the time for it. How could they misprint so? It¡¯s like to get someone killed.¡¯ Trish smiled faintly. ¡®I assure you, it would take more than a small error to kill a Warden.¡¯
Brody¡¯s shoulders relaxed as they left the eyes of the town and stepped onto the wooded path. The Warden and her demon seemed content to follow him without conversation, which suited him fine. As they went, he found himself enjoying the walk through the woods. It was a beautiful morning. So as they approached the bend in the road where the body had been discovered, he slowed. He didn¡¯t want to go up the hill again. Trish went past him, stopped, then with pauses to sniff the air, strode directly up to the tree. The hairs on the back of his neck rose when he realized. ¡°She¡¯s very talented,¡± the demon said from right behind him, breath ghosting across his neck. Brody jerked away. ¡°Don¡¯t." The demon blinked at him, one eye at a time in a dizzying wave. Then it smiled with all its sharp teeth. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t hurt you even if I could.¡± Brody said tersely, ¡°How nice. What¡¯s she saying?¡± Trish was signaling something with large arm gestures. The demon said, ¡°She says she¡¯s acquired the scent. You can head back now.¡± Brody asked, ¡°And what are you two intending on doing?¡± The demon said, ¡°We¡¯ll find the banshee, of course.¡± ¡°But there aren¡¯t any tracks. We would have looked for it¡­¡± The demon tapped its nose. ¡°There are ways, if you know how to look.¡± Brody hesitated. ¡°I¡¯m loathe to leave you out here alone. You don¡¯t know the area, for one.¡± ¡°Trish may be inexperienced, but she is well trained in woodcraft. We¡¯ll not get lost. And your husband was kind enough to pack two days of food and water, so we are well supplied,¡± the demon said, shifting a pack on its back that Brody swore wasn¡¯t there on the hike up. ¡°Two days? But the banshee-¡° ¡°Obviously we¡¯ll return before that becomes a concern. I may be weird, but I¡¯m not stupid, Reeve. We¡¯ll be back before nightfall.¡± All told, he found it convincing enough that despite his misgivings, he waved goodbye and headed back into town. He was just leaving the woods when he wondered what the demon meant by ¡®inexperienced¡¯.
Sometimes weird sense was a smell. Sometimes it was a vision or a feeling like scales on skin. Sometimes it was even sound, but Trish couldn¡¯t attest to that. The smell of a banshee wasn¡¯t something that could be translated into anything mundane. Trish had most of the day to ponder how she might describe it as she and Chatter took turns tracking the leftover impressions of the weird¡¯s passage through the world. She hadn¡¯t ever really thought about it before. During a water break, she signed, ¡®I think it¡¯s like pancakes if they were made of metal.¡¯ Chatter snorted. ¡®That¡¯s absurd.¡¯ ¡®Is it?¡¯ Chatter considered. ¡®Well. Maybe- no. No, it¡¯s absurd.¡¯ Trish signed, ¡®What do you think then?¡¯ Chatter signed, ¡®You know I¡¯m not creative.¡¯ ¡®Humor me.¡¯ ¡®I really don¡¯t want to.¡¯ ¡®Oh, come on, Chatter. You never play games with me! I thought you were my friend.¡¯ Chatter bristled. ¡®Hey! Uncalled for!¡¯ Trish smiled. ¡®Then play with me. What do banshees smell like?¡¯ Chatter waved their hands in frustration. ¡®I don¡¯t know! Knives!¡¯ ¡®Knives,¡¯ Trish signed flatly. ¡®Yes¡­¡¯ Chatter signed, ¡®Knives.¡¯ ¡®Are you sure?¡¯ Chatter planted their hands on their legs and bent forward aggressively before signing, ¡®You know what, Trish, yes. Yes. Knives. Banshees smell like knives.¡¯ ¡®So you¡¯re committing to this.¡¯ ¡®Absolutely,¡¯ Chatter signed emphatically. Trish snickered. ¡®Fine. Knives.¡¯
Dedicated Elaine wasn¡¯t keeping an eye out for the weirden. She was simply meditating in the field next to the wooded path. It had been a while since the Lady had blessed this particular field, after all. No wonder she felt called to it. The Reeve shook her awake. ¡°Oh look. You¡¯re not dead.¡± She scowled, swatting him away and sitting up. ¡°Course not! Oh. Hello, Riven.¡± The child stood there sucking his thumb. He reached out to her. She held his hand unthinkingly and he clambered onto her lap with a sigh. Elaine pulled out a jar of lotion and went to work slathering the child¡¯s face. Brody said, ¡°He was worried about you. Thought you were dead. I told him you weren¡¯t, but he needed convincing.¡± Elaine sighed. ¡°Thankee, Reeve. But I fear ye ran afoul of a con. Riven knows what meditatin¡¯ looks like. Don¡¯t ye, Riven?¡± Riven nodded solemnly. ¡°Tell the Reeve why he needed to wake me up?¡± Riven took his thumb out of his mouth. ¡°Dedicated Lane¡¯s lotion¡¯s better¡¯n papa¡¯s,¡± he said. ¡°But he said I weren¡¯t to diturb the medication. Didn¡¯t say ye weren¡¯t to.¡± ¡°Dissssturb the mediTation,¡± Elaine corrected absently. ¡°Medication is somethin¡¯ I do in the privacy of my own home.¡± Brody sighed. ¡°Riven, in the future, please don¡¯t lie to me. You shouldn¡¯t lie, but especially not to me. Or your dad.¡± Riven shrugged. ¡°Otay.¡± Elaine finished rubbing lotion into the boy¡¯s face. ¡°There ye go. A well loved baby is a shiny one, and boy, you are the sun. Now shoo. Reeve¡¯s got a question, I reckon.¡± Brody waited until Riven had wandered off across the field towards his house. Still watching the child, ever vigilant, he said, ¡°So the weirden¡¯s gone into the woods with her demon.¡± Elaine squinted up at him in the noon sun. ¡°Is that right?¡± ¡°It is.¡± Elaine said, ¡°Alright. An''?¡± ¡°Demon said something disconcerting.¡± "They do that." "Well..." ¡°Well? Chew it yerself or spit it out so we can chew together, Reeve,¡± Elaine said testily, rolling up onto her feet. Brody asked, ¡°What does it mean that the Warden¡¯s inexperienced?¡± Elaine brushed off her skirt. Brody turned to her in a restrained burst of energy. ¡°Dedicated, she¡¯s gone into the woods with the banshee. Should I have let her go?¡± ¡°It¡¯s her first assignment,¡± Elaine said evenly. ¡°Don¡¯t mean she¡¯s not well equipped for the task at hand. Aside from the fact she¡¯s not well equipped cause someone¡¯s playin¡¯ games, but she¡¯ll be fine.¡± Brody swore. ¡°A murder and they¡¯ve sent us a child.¡± Elaine glanced at him. ¡°She¡¯s not yer son. She¡¯s better trained than ye were at her age, Reeve.¡± Brody glared. ¡°Age holds its own wisdom.¡± Elaine started walking back to the town. ¡°There¡¯s naught ye can do, Brody. She¡¯s a weirden, trained and true. Only ¡®nother weird can judge her.¡± Brody called after her, ¡°Then why can¡¯t you?¡± Elaine cackled. ¡°Not weird ¡®nough! But definitely weirder¡¯n ye. No offense.¡± ¡°I take that as a compliment.¡± Elaine swung around to grin at him. ¡°Oh, I surely wouldn¡¯t.¡± Chapter 5: The Proper Hunt Some hours later, Chatter stopped and glanced up at the sky. They turned back to Trish. Trish signed, ¡®Did you lose the trail?¡¯ Chatter signed, ¡®You wound me. No, it¡¯s time we head back. I estimate we¡¯re a few hours from the town. They¡¯re circling it, which is disconcerting.¡¯ Trish squared her shoulders. ¡®I noticed. Which is why I must continue the search.¡¯ She had a steely look in her eyes that Chatter didn¡¯t like. Chatter signed, ¡®You¡¯re not staying out here alone tonight.¡¯ ¡®Well you can hear, and I¡¯m not done working the dampener, so obviously you can¡¯t stay.¡¯ ¡®I¡¯ll rephrase, because you¡¯re being deliberately obtuse. Neither of us is staying here. And when did you have time to work on a dampener?¡¯ ¡®I got up early. We¡¯re distinctly lacking in even basic banshee equipment, if you didn¡¯t notice. I decided to remedy that best I can.¡¯ Chatter signed, ¡®And did it occur to you that there may be a reason why the banshee was not on the notice, when the Dedicated made it clear that this information was passed on? That there may be something we¡¯re not seeing?¡¯ Trish frowned. ¡®I¡¯m sure Dender just forgot to check a box. It¡¯s not relevant now, apart from our lack of equipment. Back to the matter at hand, I need to speak with the banshee as soon as I can in the interest of resolving this quickly. That means camping out.¡¯ ¡¯The Reeve only allowed us on our own because I told him we would return tonight.¡¯ ¡®The Reeve allowed us?¡¯ Trish echoed with a contemptuous flick of her fingers. ¡®He holds no authority over me in pursuit of my duty.¡¯ ¡®Perhaps, but if you persist in making light of the situation I will drag you back to town in pursuit of my own duty,¡¯ Chatter signed, agitation making their signs sharp and staccato. Trish scowled. ¡®You overstep, Chatterwell.¡¯ Chatter¡¯s ears twitched. Carefully, they signed in more measured motions, ¡®Warden, with respect, the situation is strange. You can¡¯t know what to expect from this banshee.¡¯ Trish huffed. ¡®Now you sound like the Reeve. You saw the body. It¡¯s most likely this is an accident. If the banshee had violent tendencies, we would know.¡¯ ¡®We don¡¯t know anything for certain. We should wait until tomorrow and confront them together in the day. They¡¯ll be slow, unsure of themselves, blinded. We can surprise them in their hidey hole. It¡¯ll be easier to get answers. Easier yet for me to defend you.¡¯ Trish signed sharply, ¡®I¡¯ll not disrespect them like that. They might not even know they¡¯ve killed anyone. They don¡¯t warrant that kind of treatment if so, and once done it can¡¯t be taken back. It¡¯s exactly that kind of behavior that the enclave cites as one of their greatest reasons to distrust humans. If this is our first encounter with a new enclave, it must be done delicately and in good faith.¡¯ Chatter signed, ¡®Your life is worth more than a good introduction!¡¯ Trish signed, ¡®Enough. I don¡¯t want to debate the basics of diplomacy with you.¡¯ ¡®Diplomacy!¡¯ Chatter signed explosively. ¡®A man¡¯s been murdered!¡¯ They winced as soon as they signed the last word. They shouldn¡¯t have said that. Trish looked at them with a blank face that practically screamed disappointment. She signed, ¡®Give me the supplies, then go. I¡¯ll send you my coordinates on the pad when I make camp. You¡¯ll come meet me tomorrow morning.¡¯ She held out her hand. Chatter stared at her, feeling helpless. Their first duty was to follow her orders. Their second was to protect her. Their third was to interpret for her. They liked the second and third duties best. The first was sometimes frustrating. This was the first time it was painful. They signed, ¡®If this is because you feel you have something to prove, you don¡¯t.¡¯ Trish signed, ¡®I will claim breach if I must, Chatterwell.¡¯ Chatter winced. ¡®No need. The ink stands, Signatory.¡¯ They put a frustrated flourish of emphasis on the last word, but they did comply.
Riven stood staring at the ghosts in the woods as the hour turned gold, sucking his thumb thoughtfully. A big fat red bird fluttered up and perched on the tree next to him. Riven looked up at it and said, ¡°Ye¡¯re weird.¡± The bird looked down at him and said, ¡°Oh, are we just saying awkward truths? Okay, you¡¯re too old to suck your thumb.¡± Riven nodded thoughtfully. ¡°I know. But it helps everyone baby me, which I appreciates most times.¡± The bird said, ¡°Definitely too old.¡± Riven looked at the ghosts again. He said, ¡°How come Lainey can¡¯t see ¡®em?¡± The bird said, ¡°See what? What are you¡­ oh gods damn it all, it doesn¡¯t matter what you see. You¡¯re obviously a weird child, which is exactly what we don¡¯t need right now. Does the Dedicated know you¡¯re a- a whatever you are?¡±Stolen novel; please report. Riven said, ¡°She says I¡¯m a neck o man sir.¡± The bird said, ¡°A neck o- oh. Ugh. Gross. You should get that looked at.¡± Riven said, ¡°Ye¡¯re gross!¡± ¡°I¡¯m a demon. It¡¯s to be expected. You¡¯re a¡­ a small child! Who should go inside and not come out at all tonight.¡± Riven said, ¡°Cause o the banshee. I know. Pol tole me.¡± The bird fluffed itself up indignantly. ¡°Of course he did. Don¡¯t tell anyone about the banshee yet.¡± Riven shrugged. ¡°They don¡¯t believe me. Never do.¡± Riven¡¯s ma leaned out the window. Riven said, ¡°Watch this.¡± His ma said, ¡°Riven, hon, time to come in now. Da¡¯s jes finishin dinner.¡± Riven said, ¡°Alright ma, but first lemme finish talkin to the demon.¡± The demon squawked in protest. She said playfully, leaning her arms over the sill, ¡°Oh? An where¡¯s the demon?¡± Riven pointed at the bird, which hopped agitatedly. ¡°It doesn¡¯t want me to tell ye bout the banshees.¡± His ma sighed, standing upright. ¡°Alright, Riven, as ye say. Now please say goodbye to yer demon friend. Tell him ye can play later.¡± She closed the window behind her. Riven looked up to the demon. ¡°I gots to go.¡± ¡°Mhm.¡± ¡°Good luck huntin tonight. The ghosts aint actin quite right.¡± The demon said, ¡°Exactly what I need to hear. Gods damn it.¡± Riven smiled. ¡°Ye¡¯re welcome.¡± The bird fluffed up. ¡°Sees spirits, misses sarcasm. You¡¯re a weirden in the making, child.¡± ¡°Thankee!¡± ¡°Not a compliment.¡±
Flip was sitting on his porch sipping some whiskey and watching the sunset when a big fat red bird landed on the railing. It looked at him then turned to look over the woods. He looked at it, puzzled. ¡°Well, aren¡¯t you a handsome specimen of¡­ whatever you are. If you¡¯ll stay put a moment, I can figure it out. Would you like to know your scientific name?¡± He set the glass on the table next to him and reached out for the bird encyclopedia. The bird was suddenly Chatter, who perched hunched over on the railing like a gargoyle. Flip rocked back so far in his rocking chair he almost capsized. ¡°HOLY CROW!¡± The encyclopedia flew backwards out of his hand and hit the wall with a thud. Chatter stared moodily off at the sunset. ¡°Distinctly not.¡± Brody came barreling out the back door, fist clenched and pulsing energy. ¡°WHAT!¡± Flip met his gaze with wide eyes. ¡°Sorry if I scared you, dear, it¡¯s just Chatter.¡± Brody eyed Chatter with a scowl, coming to stand next to Flip. ¡°I see. And where¡¯s your master, demon?¡± Flip shuddered when Chatter¡¯s head swiveled a full 180 to stare at Brody, like an owl. They smiled, showing all their teeth. ¡°She¡¯s decided to stay in the woods tonight. Alone. Because she¡¯s smarter than all of us.¡± Brody¡¯s scowl deepened. ¡°Weirdens,¡± he ground out. Chatter¡¯s smile widened unnervingly. Brody stared out at the woods. Flip knew that look. Flip said, ¡°You¡¯re not going out there, brown bear. So don¡¯t even think about it.¡± ¡°Fillian.¡± Flip gestured at the gathering shadows. ¡°It¡¯s too late now. You can¡¯t.¡± Brody grimaced. ¡°I know.¡± Chatter asked, their head still disturbingly turned, ¡°Then why¡¯re you holding that hex?¡± Flip glanced down. It was true. He looked up at Brody¡¯s face searchingly. ¡°Bear?¡± Brody shook off the hex, his shoulders tense, but his face relaxed out of its scowl. ¡°Sorry. I forgot I had it on. It¡¯s just, the banshee, and¡­ she¡¯s so young.¡± Flip said gently, ¡°She¡¯s not Rill, honey.¡± Brody bristled. ¡°Why do people keep saying that to me?¡± Chatter turned back to watch the sunset. They said, ¡°If she dies, I¡¯ll turn their intestines into socks,¡± and clattered their teeth together. Flip gave Brody a horrified look behind Chatter¡¯s back. Brody stared at Chatter with narrowed eyes, one hand going to Flip¡¯s shoulder. Chatter said, still looking out over the woods, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I don¡¯t mean your intestines. That would be a waste. They make such lovely sounds as they are.¡± Flip said weakly, ¡°Oh?¡± Chatter hummed and said earnestly, ¡°Yes and especially yours, Master Flip. You have a very healthy ecosystem. I can smell it from here.¡± This was supposed to be reassuring, no doubt. Flip was not reassured. Then Brody squeezed his shoulder with a little hint of a reassuring smile and it was better. Not great, but better.
Trish found the nest just before the sun went down. It was an opening in a craggy rock face that was the start of the mountain¡¯s foothills. She supposed it was a cave further down inside, but she didn¡¯t dare intrude. She sniffed deeply. It was odd. It didn¡¯t smell much like an active nest, though it had been recently used. If it was a scout outpost for one of the enclaves rumored to thrive in the deep parts of the wilderness, that would explain it. She thought about it as she set up camp for the night about fifty feet from the cave, pulling a sleeping pad and ward stones out of the pack. For a makeshift alarm line, she set two ward stones in front of the mouth of the cave. The rest she set in a ten foot circle around where she¡¯d decided to rest for the first half of the night. Before she laid down, she set out a chalkboard with chalk and a jackalope antler prong next to the pad. She pulled out a timer, glanced at her watch, and set it to rouse her fifteen minutes before midnight. She laid face up on her pad with the ward alert and the timer on her stomach. She pulled the strings of the mana matrix for the dampener out of her pocket. Closing her eyes, she drifted into the familiar complexities of spell weaving, flicking her fingers through the cobweb-like strings of its cradle. She couldn¡¯t tell how long it had been when one of the stones vibrated. She opened her eyes to teeth above her.
After some hours of night, Fallen Leaves said, ¡°The wind in the trees howls mightily in the night, but in the time twixt dusk and midnight it slacks. Why pursue the wind before midnight?¡± Moonless, walking ahead through the forest with mouth wide open to better scent the air, said, ¡°Dost thou think the object of our hunt yet holds to the law? Dost think it still seeks salvation in the dark between the stars?¡± Fallen Leaves said, ¡°Thou callst our quarry animal?¡± ¡°By its actions, it has declared itself so. And if there were any question, the evidence is clear here: it moves without mind to sacred times. The proper hunt demands we move so as well. We are fallen behind as it is, damn the committee.¡± Fallen Leaves said, ¡°We already have left behind the bounds of civilization. Must we now leave behind the last vestiges of that which separates us from beast? How are we then separate from that which we pursue?¡± Moonless said, ¡°It is our calling to walk beyond, even to walk in the day if needed, and trust that we might return to that which we are. Absolution shall be granted, apprentice, do not fear that. But if thou dost fear and if thou findst the role of men¡¯tuch doth not suit, thou shouldst end thine education upon conclusion of this hunt.¡± Fallen Leaves said, ¡°I shall meditate on this, Teacher. But I shall not do so until after we have returned. Contemplation holds no place here.¡± Moonless stopped before a tree. ¡°That is well, apprentice. Thou demonstrate great wisdom, for thou art correct. Dost thou have thine wits about thee?¡± Fallen Leaves tasted the air with her long tongue. She shifted uneasily. ¡°Blood and weirdness lies thick on the air. And some strangeness too. A group of creatures, mortal and large, not deer nor wolf nor coyote nor puma nor boar nor bear¡­ What is it?¡± ¡°Humans, apprentice. Look there. Their seasonal passage through the wood.¡± Moonless gestured to the road. Fallen Leaves said, ¡°Most unfortunate that our quarry came here, then. We must work with haste to avoid undue notice.¡± Moonless said, ¡°Tis too late. The old blood is human. The weirdness is demonic.¡± Fallen Leaves swore. ¡°Demons! Teacher, what shall we do?¡± ¡°Demons are bound to a human. Shouldst we remove that human, they shall return whence they came with no further interference in the world. And while I wouldst tell thee not to follow such thoughts down the thorned path, thou art right to be concerned. Come, smell.¡± Moonless motioned Fallen Leaves to follow as she walked further into the forest. Fallen Leaves smelled the air. ¡°The demon and a human follow our quarry. It is a recent passage.¡± Moonless said, ¡°We must be wary. Shouldst the humans suspect banshee involvement, they may order the demon to dispose of us on sight.¡± ¡°Then we ought remove the bonded one quickly, and so banish the demon.¡± Moonless said, ¡°If we must.¡± Chapter 6: Madness or Intent There were teeth a few inches from her face. Trish rolled away and to her feet in a swift motion, her magic snagging the antler to send it flying through the air. She caught it in her left hand, fingers still tangled in the cradle. She held the antler out, warding against the banshee. The banshee crouched low over her pallet, one hand raised- and then lowered as their luminous eyes took in the antler. They slowly sat back on their haunches, lanky limbs folding down. Trish caught her breath. Putting the antler in the crook of her arm, eyes warily watching the banshee as she untangled her fingers to let the spell cradle hang from one hand, she signed, ¡®SSL?¡¯ The banshee didn¡¯t react. That was fine. She had a second option on hand. She pointed at the chalkboard and chalk by the pallet. The banshee looked at it, then at her. Then they looked behind her. Trish¡¯s heart jumped when another banshee prowled from behind her into her line of vision¡­ and well within the ward stones. She flinched, absently reaching a hand for the alarm stone until she realized she¡¯d dropped it on waking. The first banshee¡¯s body language showed deference to the second. Their head lowered, their claws retracted ever so slightly. Trish thought it was most likely a teacher deference. She absently wondered what lessons might be taught before the second banshee looked down at the chalkboard, at her, then flicked it across the forest floor with one long claw. It clattered to a stop at her feet. The banshee sat down next to their student in a relaxed posture and stared at her. Trish sank into a seated position. Cradling the antler in her elbow, she gently tugged the spell matrix off her hand. She tucked it away in her pocket then set down the antler in front of her and picked up the chalkboard and its chalk. She wrote in Tlica blindly, eyes flicking away from the banshees every new line to check legibility, ¡°Greetings, ones far from home. I am a men¡¯tuch seeking justice. Two nights ago, a human witnessed the art of weeping. Alas, for he has passed. Art thou responsible?¡± She felt confident in most of her effort but hesitated a moment over men¡¯tuch. It was a tricky word. The enclave said weirden was closest to men¡¯tuch, which when translated back into Selton Sign was closest to something like Reeve. However, it was a poor translation. Men¡¯tuchs were more like bounty hunters than weirdens, and received free rein to act as they wanted while in the field as long as they remained faithful to their god¡¯s broader code of conduct. But crucially, they policed their own community, while weirdens mediated the strange and complicated space of interaction between weird and human. They were not responsible for humans beyond that. She hoped she would have a chance to explain that. She turned the board around to show them. The student showed a surprise response, feathers on the back of their hands fluffing up, but the teacher eyed the board with no response. Trish tasted the faint ozone of telepathy in the air as they spoke together. She frowned when she felt a zap of it spark against her mind. She wrote hastily, ¡°Thou wouldst honor me, but I am bound by oath to not accept unauthorized telepathic communication. Please use the still word.¡± She held the chalkboard out, then placed it on the ground between them. The teacher reached out with one long claw and snagged the board. They picked it up. They eyed the chalk dangling from the board by the string before grabbing it. They rubbed out her marks and began to write. ¡°First, before all else: my apprentice offers apologies for startling thee. She was merely curious as to how thou smell like demon, yet we see none here. I take whatever charge thou wouldst put against her. My name is Moonless. She is Fallen Leaves. As to thine question, we came upon the signs of the man¡¯s death, but we did not cause it. Nay, we seek the same as thee, men¡¯tuch, as we ourselves are men¡¯tuch. We seek justice. Thou huntest our quarry.¡± Trish wrote, ¡°Then thou art from the wilds? Hast thou drawn contract with humans yet?¡± Moonless wrote, ¡°From the wilds? Thou mayst say so though in truth I have heard of thine own vast unnatural places. Surely are those not more wild? I met some humans some years since, but that is rare for our enclave. We have no need of contract.¡± Trish wrote pointedly, ¡°Then there is no law governing thine actions towards me or those under mine protection? Nothing to appeal to in case of injury or assault?¡± The feathers bristled on Fallen Leaves¡¯s hands but Moonless answered gracefully, ¡°There is the committee, of course, and our queen, but personally, there is our own sense of rightness and responsibility. This is a considerable sense, or we should not be men¡¯tuch.¡± Trish asked, ¡°And a human might petition the committee?¡± ¡°Anyone with voice might,¡± Moonless wrote. Trish wrote, ¡°Wouldst the still word suffice? I am deaf, men¡¯tuch.¡± Moonless rolled their shoulders inquisitively. ¡°A deaf human. Tis convenient in this instance.¡± Trish ignored this and rewrote, ¡°Still word?¡± Moonless wrote, ¡°Yes, if it comes to the point that such a request is required, the still word would be accepted.¡± Trish tapped the chalkboard then wrote, ¡°Under what circumstance dost thou imagine our quarry to have killed a man? I had assumed accident, but seeing thee here before midnight, I confess a growing sense of dread.¡± Fallen Leaves looked up at Moonless, then watched as Moonless wrote, ¡°Alas, men¡¯tuch. Tis not an accident. But neither is it murder. Tis insanity.¡± Trish frowned. ¡°Explain this to me, men¡¯tuch. What dost thou mean by insanity?¡± ¡°It is removed from its natural state of being by no fault of its own. Alas, it has been such for some years. All efforts have been taken to ease its temperament, but all have failed. Such creatures are evaluated regularly for improvement. It saw none.¡± Trish shifted uneasily. ¡°It? An improper name?¡± ¡°Yes. It is no longer of us.¡± ¡°Thus thou hunt afore the proper times,¡± Trish wrote, musing. ¡°Is such allowed?¡± Moonless wrote, ¡°No. But dispensation and absolution are our privilege as men¡¯tuch. Thou must know this?¡± Trish raised an eyebrow. She wrote, ¡°Indeed, no, I did not. In truth I know very little of the ways of men¡¯tuch. But, and I hope you¡¯ll forgive me if I clear the sand, why did they come here? Pure chance?¡± Moonless wrote, ¡°This is where its family died.¡± Trish startled, dropping the chalk. It swung from its string like a pendulum before she reached out to catch it up again. Fallen Leaves twitched beside Moonless and reached for the chalk and chalkboard. Trish let her take them. Fallen Leaves wrote, ¡°Thou knowest the tale.¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Trish felt a little shaky. ¡°Yes. I was told the story this morning. On behalf of the Selton men¡¯tuchs and the town, please forgive us. Tis one of our greatest shames.¡± Fallen Leaves snatched the chalkboard back, scribbled furiously, then looked at her, huffed, and erased the scribbles before writing again. When Trish got the chalkboard, it read, ¡°Thou canst apologize for that which thou hadst no part in. Thou could not have been more than a larva some twenty years past.¡± Trish winced. ¡°Is mine youth so obvious?¡± Moonless wrote, ¡°Do not concern thyself with thine age, men¡¯tuch. Wisdom is measured not by years.¡± ¡°As thou say¡­ Men¡¯tuch, I have then a proposal for thee. Let us three work in conjunction to find this banshee. I am responsible for the people in the village and I fear for their safety, but so too do I fear for the banshee. Shouldst the people learn it has killed, whether from madness or intent, it will be hunted. Such is the history of this village.¡± ¡°Thou art right to fear,¡± Moonless wrote. ¡°The earth soaked up the blood and it has sunk into the bones of this place. The spirits demand justice, but more than justice, they seek to live again.¡± Trish frowned at the chalkboard. ¡°Men¡¯tuch, I do not understand. Dost thou speak of possession?¡± ¡°Canst thou not taste it upon the air? Feel it in the dirt? Tis history, men¡¯tuch, come back from between the stars. An eerie spirit, to be sure. Yes, we three shall work together.¡± ¡±What first?¡± Moonless reared up and sniffed the air. ¡°Come, young human. Gather thine things. Let us be on our way. We¡¯ve no time to waste and though thine nose may be sufficient, I assure thee: mine is better.¡± Trish wrote, ¡°Didst they use this nest? I thought they may have, so I set camp here.¡± Fallen Leaves wrote, ¡°Perhaps last night or the night before, yes, but it hast moved on. And ¡®twas not a wise decision to camp so close, not knowing if it was in residence. Thou knowest now how easily a ward line might be breached by such as we.¡± Trish frowned. ¡°Yes.¡± She was beginning to think she owed Chat an apology. Moonless¡¯s feathers rippled in agitation, so Trish stopped dallying. She packed up her things, slung the chalkboard around her neck, and took a sip from a stone phial in her pack. She waited a moment, blinking every five seconds to check the working, then signaled she was ready when the world swam into black and white focus. She followed the banshees out of the clearing and into the dark of the woods, her eyes glowing a faint green in the gloom.
Riven was woken by the smell of rotten flesh. ¡°Go ¡®way, Jessa,¡± he murmured, swatting a hand through the ghost hovering over him. Jessa breathed over him again, a rush of chilling rotten air on his neck. He sat up, about to scold her, when he saw his brother at the window, carefully easing it open. Jessa faded into the night. ¡°Neb, what are ye doin?¡± Riven asked, rubbing at his eyes sleepily. Neb glared at him. ¡°None o¡¯ yer business, kid.¡± Riven scowled. ¡°Ye¡¯re goin¡¯ to see Missy, aren¡¯t ye? But ye can¡¯t go out tonight. S¡¯not safe.¡± Neb scoffed. ¡°Why? More ghosts? No such thing.¡± ¡°Dedicated says I see ¡®em.¡± ¡°Dedicated says a lot o¡¯ things. Now shut up and go back to sleep afore I knock ye upside the head, brat.¡± Riven sulkily said, ¡°Fine. Go ahead an¡¯ let the banshee kill ye for all I care. Mebbe ye¡¯ll be nicer as a ghost.¡± Neb clambered out the window. Riven said, louder so Neb could hear him, ¡°I¡¯ll finally have my own room! I¡¯m gonna tear down yer posters, even the ones in the closet!¡± ¡°Ye do that, an¡¯ I really will haint yer ass!¡±
Chatter couldn¡¯t sleep, so they were sitting scrunched up tight in the chimney. The brick was cool against their fur. It was nice and windy. They stared up at the stars, neck curved strangely, claws gently sunk into the brick as they waited in the dark of the night for sunrise. They were unpleasantly surprised by a howl that rose up and echoed throughout the valley. Their claws sunk deeper into the brick, their ears folded against their skull, and they slowly spidered their way down the chimney. They emerged in the living room covered in soot and badly surprising Brody, who got off a nasty hex that sat smoldering on their fur for a few moments. Chatter looked at him. Brody grimaced. ¡°I think that was a very reasonable reaction.¡± ¡°Hm. Then you heard it.¡± ¡°I did. The whole village did. It must be within the ward limits to penetrate the walls so.¡± He paced restlessly. Chatter waved their hand. The soot flew off them and back up the chimney. ¡°Think anyone died?¡± Brody sat on the windowsill and twitched open the curtain to look out. ¡°We¡¯ll just have to wait and see.¡± Chatter said, quietly, ¡°Trish thought it an accident. But this is no accident.¡± ¡°Murder,¡± Brody agreed grimly. ¡°Tomorrow will be difficult. I just hope it won¡¯t be because of a body.¡± ¡±You think it difficult without a body?¡± ¡°Someone else must have heard it this time. The village will be up in arms come sunrise and I¡¯ll need to answer for it, body or no.¡±
Neb and Missy and a few of their friends jumped at the sudden howl. They slapped their hands over their ears, wincing. They were huddled around a crystal lamp in a little shack in the woods that had been built by some other ancient group of teenagers long, long ago. The location was an open secret, in that all the adults knew where it was but agreed to pretend like they didn¡¯t unless something happened. ¡°What was that?¡± Josiah asked, lowering his hands. ¡°I dunno, but it sounded like it was right outside,¡± Kristen replied. She started to put away the game pieces into a soft velvet bag. ¡°Pass me the dice, I reckon I¡¯m done here.¡± Mal found a handful under a cup. Josiah sheepishly pulled one from his pocket. Mal said, ¡°I¡¯m sure it¡¯s nothin¡¯, Krissy.¡± Missy went to stand. ¡°I ain¡¯t. Gimme a light, I¡¯ll take a look.¡± Neb grabbed her arm, his face serious. ¡°Hol¡¯ up, Missy. My brother tol¡¯ me not to come out tonight.¡± ¡°Which brother?¡± Neb rolled his eyes. ¡°Ye know which one.¡± Mal snorted. ¡°The weird one.¡± Neb glared at him. ¡°Yeah, the weird one! An¡¯ he tol¡¯ me there¡¯s a banshee out there tonight! So mebbe let¡¯s just be smart and pretend like that horrible sound was a banshee, alright?¡± Missy said, ¡°Well, my pa would¡¯ve tol¡¯ me ¡®bout a banshee, and he¡¯s not said a word to me ¡®bout it. But¡­ well, if yer brother says so, I¡¯m inclined to trust a weirdin¡¯ one.¡± Mal said, ¡°But I can¡¯t sit here all night just cause his weird brother tol¡¯ him there¡¯s a banshee. Doesn¡¯t he see ghosts? Why is he sayin¡¯ there¡¯s a banshee? What, is it a banshee ghost now? I¡¯ll tell ye what, he¡¯s been listenin¡¯ to ol¡¯ Alsom too much.¡± ¡°That¡¯s my pa, ye know,¡± Missy growled, her eyes narrowing. Mal said, ¡°Oh, no offense, Missy, but ye know how it is.¡± Josiah said, ¡°Yeah, well, I gotta get home soon. I¡¯ll be in so much trouble if I¡¯m not home afore sunrise. Banshee ghost or no.¡± Missy snapped, ¡°Ye¡¯ll be in worse trouble if ye die afore ye get home, ye great potato! And it¡¯s not a banshee ghost!¡± Kristen shushed them. ¡°Do ye hear that?¡± They listened intently. Something was scratching at the door. Scratch. Scratch. Scraaaaaatch. They froze. ¡°It¡¯s a banshee ghost,¡± Josiah whispered, his eyes filling with tears. ¡°Sweet lady of the meadows, we¡¯re goin¡¯ die!¡± ¡±No such thing, dummy!¡± Kristen retorted. Missy stood. ¡°Missy,¡± Neb hissed. They all looked at her. She took a step towards the door. Neb reached out for her as she took another step outside of his reach. ¡°Missy, stop,¡± he pleaded. She bent down and looked through the cracks of the door. She met the luminous gaze of a creature stood outside. They stared at each other. Nothing moved. There was no sound. It was only a second, maybe two, stretched into infinity. Then the eye came close, leaning towards her. Missy froze. Her eyes stung. She smelled something rancid. She heard a faint snick below. ¡°Missy,¡± Kristen said. ¡°Banshee,¡± Missy said, feeling floaty. ¡°Oh, Pa, what now?¡± ¡°Missy!¡± Kristen said, her voice high. Missy heard something scrape below and slowly looked down. A needle poked through the door crack, just to the left of her leg. It was white and shiny. It could have stuck her. She watched it blankly as it started to slide up the door crack, wondering where a needle could have come from. Oh. Of course. It was a claw. She watched the claw glide up the crack as though from a distance. She had a dim realization that it was going to hit the simple latch that kept the door closed. If that happened, the latch would lift up and the door would open. If the door opened- ¡°Hm,¡± she said, and dreamily placed a hand on the top of the latch just as the claw reached it and started to lift it up. She pressed. The claw stopped. She looked out the door to see the banshee¡¯s eye right against the door, staring at her wide and horrible. She inhaled sharply but kept her hand on the latch. A tear fell down her cheek. The banshee pushed up harder. She pushed down with one hand, then with two. She strained. ¡°Neb,¡± she gasped, and he was there, helping her push the latch down. Then Kristen, and Josiah, and Mal, so there were five of them struggling to keep the latch down. The door groaned from the strain. A shot rang out. The banshee screamed and the claw pulled back. The group winced but didn¡¯t dare cover their ears. When her ears stopped ringing, Missy pressed her face to the door to look through the cracks. She saw only the dark trees. ¡±It¡¯s gone.¡± The teens sagged against the door in a puddle of relief. Except Missy, who kept staring out. Neb looked up at her. ¡°Ye think it¡¯ll come back? Someone shot-¡° He paused and slowly leveraged himself to his feet. ¡°Someone shot it.¡± Kristen said, ¡°But who-¡° Missy startled back. ¡°Oh!¡± Something banged on the door, startling them all. A voice bellowed, ¡°Y¡¯all alright in there?¡± Missy started to shove them away from the door. ¡°Go on, get, we gotta open it for him.¡± Mal grabbed her arm. ¡°Are yer thoughts snarled?¡± The voice boomed, ¡°I can¡¯t hear ya if y¡¯all are a-okay, just so¡¯s ya know. Put some wax in to keep from having ma brains drain outta ma ears. If ya don¡¯t want me, I can continue on ma way but I thought I might offer ma services first.¡± ¡°Let him in,¡± Josiah said. They looked at him. He flushed. ¡°Well, he ain¡¯t a ghost nor a banshee, right?¡± ¡°We can¡¯t exactly leave a man out there now that we know what¡¯s what,¡± Missy said stoutly. ¡±But-¡° Mal began. ¡±Oh hush yer butt, sour puss,¡± Kristen said, and opened the door. Chapter 7: When None Else Did
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