Chapter Four
Mates Return
Montral landed softly next to the garden gate and attempted to flatten his wild hair. Eralee slid back off the horse as Gorn brought it to a stop. He dismounted and flung the reins over a hitching post above it's water trough.
"Now Gorn, I haven't seen anything requiring such urgency," Montral calmly stated. "Is this another one of Thyrynn's surprise parties?"
It was true that Montral hadn't seen any immediate threats on the way down from Elsewhere. The uneasy feeling, however, continued to persist. He wondered if it could be related to the strange mist and the unusual turn of events earlier.
If that were the case, it couldn't possibly be related to whatever had Gorn so distraught. The timing didn't add up.
He didn't see anything out of the ordinary around the homestead except for some animals roaming above the upper meadow. Likely some foraging bears. Also not out of the ordinary.
He did notice the stove fire had gone out, for no smoke trailed up from the chimney. Slightly out of the ordinary. He'd never known the home to be without a fire on the hearth.
"I can't explain it," Gorn said to the ground. "I can't describe it. I don't even want to think about." He rubbed his eyes with white knuckled fists and shook his head.
Montral knew Gorn to be proudly independent and competently capable. It unnerved him to see Gorn in such a state.
Eralee put a delicate hand on his shoulder. "What has happened?"
"I don't understand," Gorn said. He turned to look down into her eyes pleadingly. "Please go inside. I haven't touched anything. Maybe you can make some sense of it. I just don't understand."
"Alright sister," Montral said. "Shall we go have a look." Still halfway expecting Thyrynn to jump out from behind a door with a cake and admiring Gorn's possible acting ability, he started down the garden path.
Eralee deftly joined him and they arrived at the porch. "This seems serious. I hope nothing is wrong with Thyrynn. I know she recently learned she was with child."
"We shall see," Montral flatly said. "Let us have a look then, shall we?"
He bowed slightly and motioned for his sister to go on in ahead. She glided over the threshold with her satin robes swishing and Montral followed. The uneasy feeling increased and all thoughts of walking into a surprise party vanished.
"Be on your guard," he whispered. "Something is definitely not right in here."
"I know," she whispered back and adjusted the pouches on her belt. "I can feel it too."
Their entire demeanor changed and silently crept into the kitchen area like panthers stalking prey. Montral scanned everything in sight, taking mental notes. Eralee crouched lower and drew the silver daggers that were secreted away in the sleeves of her robe.
She peered around each corner and piece of furniture before proceeding forward. Her brother stayed a pace behind her, moving only when she moved.
They slowly moved deeper into the house. Eralee peered around the partition between the kitchen and the sitting room when she sprung. Quick as a striking cobra, she dashed into the room. She squatted down and disappeared into the shadows behind a large chair.
Montral froze in place. His jaw dropped a bit and stood there looking stupid. His skin might have turned green if it weren't already.
"Oh, my. This is bad," he managed to say. "This is very bad."
Blood. Deep blood. Dark blood pooled on the floor in the center of the disheveled room. Blood spattered on every surface outward. The body, or what remained of the body, lay in the pool of blood.
A thick line of blood formed a perfect circle around the pool. Elaborate sigils were intricately drawn in blood around the circle.
"Get down, you fool." Eralee forcefully whispered from the shadows. She had somehow already moved to hide behind a different overturned chair further into the room.
Her command shook Montral from his stupor. He took a step back and crouched behind the partition under a table. He searched his mind, trying to place the sigils. Very dark and very dangerous sigils.
Eralee suddenly stepped back into the kitchen, startling Montral. He jumped at the sudden appearance of his sister and banged the top of his head on the table. A glass tipped over, rolled off the edge of the table, and shattered.
"I think it's safe," Eralee spoke. "Well, at least the house is empty. How safe it is remains to be seen."
Montral stood, rubbed the knot forming on his head, and shot a worried look to Eralee. He carefully stepped past the broken glass and braced himself to look back into the sitting room.
He unslung his pack and set it down at his feet. With a serious look on his face, covering all emotions, he rumaged through the pack. Eralee continued to pace about the house while her brother set upon his work.
Montral produced a roll of blank parchments, a bottle of ink, and his favorite quill. He also pulled out two small boxes, ornate miniature versions of treasure chests.
He spread the parchments across the table, then arranged his quill and ink between the two small chests. Everything had to be just right or he would not be able to focus his full concentration.
With thumbs pressing some concealed button, the lids of the chests popped open. Some fuzzy legs reached out from one while two bulbous unblinking eyes stared out from the other.
As Eralee paced past the table once more, she paused and held her hand level with the top of her box. A rather large spider crawled onto the back of her hand. She resumed pacing and allowed the spider to crawl up her arm.
"I need your help again little friend," she said to it. "Please help us understand what happened here."
A fat old toad jumped out of the other box and landed in the middle of Montral's parchments. "That goes for you as well," he said to the toad. "Please don't be a nuisance, you old curmudgeon."
The toad croaked, blinked it's eyes with a swallow, and hopped to the edge of the table, off the parchments. Montral knew it would rather be back at home, in it's pool at the base of Tower Elsewhere.
Montral dipped his quill and blotted it. He took a deep breath and began working.
He sketched the symbols, noting their orientation and position, mindfully documenting each on separate sheets. He recognized a few of the strange symbols, while others seemed like ancient versions of things less familiar.
"The body has been disemboweled," Eralee said from the sitting room. "There's no sign of the entrails."
Her brother scribbled down her observations, as she spoke them, on a different piece of parchment. He did it while simultaneously working on the sheets of his own observations.
"The ribs have been broken open. The heart has been removed." She resumed moving around the house, unable to look at the mutilation for more than a few moments.
"The door doesn't seem to have been forced open," she continued. "The windows are intact. There's a spilled coin purse on the kitchen bookshelf. A pot of burnt stew in the wash basin. There are hand prints in hearth ashes, not quite human. Not elven."
She paused for a moment. "Be sure to have a look at this, Montral."
His quill furiously scratching at the parchments, from one to the other, stopped briefly as he glanced over. "Hmm."
"There are more markings on the body, carved into the flesh," she said while lifting a dangling flap of skin.
"Yes, dear sister. I've already noted those." He dipped and blotted the quill again. The toad jumped down from the table with a meaty plop.
"The furniture was moved violently, but only in this room," she said questioningly. "To make room for this, uh, ritual? Maybe looking for something, too."
She looked high and low. Kneeling down she finally looked at the face of the body. "It's definitely Thyrynn. Poor Thyrynn. But her face is different. Aged and withered. More markings on her face. Very subtle, in ash."
The toad croaked from the corner, behind an overturned bench.
Montral stepped in for a short moment to have a look. He grabbed a fresh parchment on his return to the table and documented the finding with grave concern.
The toad croaked again from the corner. "Dear sister, can you see what he wants," Montral requested.
She complied and looked over the bench to see the toad. She hated it, but occasionally it proved useful.
"The floorboards are torn up. Smashed in, rather. There's a chest down there. Also smashed in," she said with growing curiosity, "and empty."
She scooped up the toad, which frightened her spider. It scampered to the top of her head. She hated the feel of the toad's cold, clammy skin.
The sound of footsteps at the front door interrupted their concentration as she set the toad down in it's box. They'd both almost forgotten that Gorn was outside, alone with his grief.
"It's her isn't it," he nearly sobbed. "This isn't some sick joke, is it?"
"Oh, Gorn. You needn't see this," Eralee tried to say consolingly. She quickly moved to stop Gorn in the entranceway.
She reached up and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Do tell me, what treasure did you keep hidden under the floor boards in there?'
Gorn looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"
A high pitched and extremely loud screech made them all jump. Something crashed into the house, shaking it to the foundation.
"What in The Blazes was that," Eralee exclaimed.
Another screech sounded, further away, but still loud and shrill enough to painfully vibrate their eardrums. Again something crashed into the house and thrashed against it.
Eralee bounded over to Montral, who was hastily rolling up the parchments. She grabbed her spider and put it in the empty box as delicately as possible. It's legs wriggled in protest to such rough treatment.
She snapped both lids closed and tossed them to Montral. He had just stuffed the parchments into his pack and barely had enough time to catch the boxes.
Gorn had stepped out to the porch to grab his axe when the wall of the sitting room burst open. A massively clawed paw tore through the timbers.
Through the opening, two saucer sized eyes appeared. Bright yellow and ringed with red, they searched the room. They drew back a moment to reveal more of the head that belonged to those eyes.
Heavy feathers spread back from the eyes, under a menacingly furrowed brow. The hide that had been curing on the wall outside hung from an enormous and sharp looking beak.
The beak opened, dropping the hide, to release another peircing shriek. Montral nearly dropped his pack to cover his ears while slinging it over his shoulder. Somehow he managed to do both.
Gorn lunged into the room, with axe in hand. "Owlbear!"
The massive paws clawed at the hole in the wall. Several more screeches sounded out across the valley. Each swipe of the paw widened the opening. Soon the beast would be in the room.
Gorn ran at the beast, hefting the axe as he went, intent on striking it down. He swung as the owlbear jammed it's head through the opening.
The axe glanced off the beast's beak. It shook it's mighty head, blinking, and pulled back through the hole.
Gorn had expected to bury the axe between the owlbear's eyes. The unexpected force of deflection sent the axe flying across the room and Gorn tumbling forward.
The owlbear reached in as Gorn stumbled and grabbed him. It dug it's claws into his back and reeled him up against the wall, pinning him there.
Eralee and Montral stood stunned for a moment, but burst into action. They each searched their belt pouches and prepared a spell. More screeches sounded from outside, much closer.
The owlbear reared back it's head, opening it's viscous beak, and bit down on Gorn's shoulder. It sliced through flesh and bone. He screamed a warcry of pain and blood soaked his shirt.
Still pinning him to the wall, the owlbear reared it's head again. Eralee lifted a fist above her head, speaking strange words, and thrust her hand forward, as if throwing a rock.
Streaks of radiant blue light burst from her hand and flew at the beast. They struck it in an eye before it could chomp down on Gorn again.
It fell back and released it's hold on Gorn. Eralee ran to retrieve him. "We have to get out of here," she yelled.
Dazed, Gorn could barely move. He leaked a dangerous amount of blood and would quickly die if something wasn't done about it soon.
"Outside, dear sister. I will be there momentarily," Montral shouted. He had a risky spell ready for the desperate situation.
The owlbear returned to the opening enraged, one eye closed and ruptured. It clawed and bit frantically at the opening, bashing itself against the wall. The entire house shook. Shelves fell, glass broke, and chandeliers swayed.
Eralee bore some of Gorn's weight as they limped past Montral to the door. His blood soaked into the satin of her gown. She rifled through her pouches with a free hand.
The beast was nearly in the room when Montral released his spell. An undulating ball of fire appeared between his hands as he moved backwards toward the door.
The owlbear broke the last of the timbers that were holding it back and fell into the room. It righted itself and shook it's head. A bloody fluid flew from it's closed eye in globs.
Montral pushed his hands forward and the fireball sailed across the room. He turned to run outside. The fireball struck the owlbear in the chest as it started to stand on it's hind legs, and exploded.
The force of the blast sent the burning owlbear tumbling back out the opening. Everything in the room burst into flames. More screeches sounded just outside.
Montral met Gorn and Eralee at the porch. "Do you have anymore of the powder from last week," he asked her.
"It's around here somewhere," she blurted.
Montral took Gorn by the other arm, helping to keep him upright and to take some weight off Eralee. "These wounds need attention. It's beyond our ability," he stated. "He will die soon without treatment."
"I know," she snapped. Clearly agitated, she continued to search her belt pouches.
"We could take him to...her," he suggested.
"Her? You can't be serious," she paused in disbelief. "It's forbidden."
The screeches were everywhere and closing in. More timbers snapped as the owlbear thrashed around. The fire crackled and popped, turning into an inferno.
"What other choice is there," he asked. "We can't let him die. We are sworn to protect."
"So be it," she conceded. "Ah, here it is." She held up a small purple velvet pouch and undid the tie with her teeth. "Close your eyes."
She tossed the powder contents of the pouch in the air above them. It shimmered like crushed diamonds, but fell on them slowly like flour.
As it did, they began to disappear. First their heads, then their shoulders. They began walking down the path as it happened.
Soon they were just three sets of legs walking out the garden path in front of Gorn's burning house. Then they were completely invisible.
Owlbears ran wildly through the valley. Some clawed and bit at the flames of the house, not comprehending the fire, but understanding the pain of the burn. Determined to kill whatever caused the pain they attacked the flames with greater ferocity.
Montral looked back at the house when it collapsed with a crunching plume of embers. A burning owlbear leaped from splintered timbers and fell dead just feet away, never noticing their presence.
"Drat," Montral said. "I left my favorite quill in there." He couldn't see Eralee shaking her head in disbelief.
"Come, now. We must hurry if he is to survive," she said.