Author's Note: Another Friday update as I am off to a cottage for the weekend, so no internet for the next couple of days. However, I hope to get some more writting done.

Chapter 11: Thieves and Nightmarish Things

Layton had taken no more than three steps into the Grand Hall when he noticed the commotion coming from the lobby.

After Emmy had walked out, he'd spent the last half hour pacing the conservatory going over everything in his head. Only the more he tried to think it through, the worse he felt. How could he possible face Emmy after what he'd done?

And it had been what he'd done that messed up the evening. He was the one that kissed her. The kiss that ignited all that emotion and whatnot. He was the one who said Claire's name aloud, and couldn't even explain the situation to Emmy.

He didn't know why he'd done a rash thing like that in the first place. It was something stupid. Something childish….

It was something a gentleman does not do. He bowed his head in shame. But he was at a loss of how to make things right. The hurt in Emmy's voice reminded him of Angela's all those years ago, when he lost Randall in the ruins of Akbadain. That had torn their friendship apart for many years … what if he lost Emmy?

Worse, she was alone, with Isaac Nando free to approach her if he dared. Something bothered him by the way the man in sunglasses had looked at her.

He sighed. Now would be a good time for Randall's lady advice.

And when he'd finally brought up the courage to seek his friend's help, chaos broke loose at the party. Men yelled and threw fists and refreshments –and whatever else they could find. Women accused each other of stealing a date, or shoes, or dresses, or hair style, or some other mundane object.

The mob mentality spread like wildfire and even complete strangers were taking to a brawl.

Layton shoved his way through a sea of people, moving towards the lobby in an attempt to see what was going on, as the worst of it seemed to come from that room.

"Move back, back it up!" the two police officers shouted, clearly overwhelmed by the seething crowd.

He spotted Angela on the outskirts of the mass, backed to the wall to avoid the stampede. "Hershel," she cried and waved him over.

"Angela, where's Randall?" Layton narrowly avoided being run over by a frantic couple. "What is this madness?"

"Fights broke loose in the lobby. Then all over… Randall went to sort things out," she grabbed his hand and pulled him to safety out of the raging man's path. "Where's Emmy?"

"She ran off," Layton's heart sunk at the thought. She could be caught up anywhere in this. What if she'd gotten hurt? Emmy was an excellent fighter, but the sheer numbers of these frantic people….

He led Angela towards the lobby, both of them pressed up against the wall. "I'm afraid I said something rather stupid."

"You've got to be kidding me, Hershel Layton, since when have you ever said anything stupid? Least of all to a girl?"

Before he could figure out if she meant it sarcastically or not, a voice boomed across the room.

"Layton!"

He turned his head to find the senior police officer coming his way. "Could use some help right now. A fight broke loose between two ladies and set the rest of 'em off." He struggled to hold his ground with the mass of people pushing him back. "I called for back-up, they should be here any minute now."

"Sorry for your predicament, I wish I could be of help, but first I need to find my assistant Emmy," Layton said. "You haven't seen her have you?"

"Emmy? Last name wouldn't happen to be Altava would it?"

"Yes, why?"

"Victim says that's the woman who punched her out, and started this whole darn thing."

This news did not help Layton feel any better. Most likely she had run. He had to find Emmy, before any more trouble broke out. He turned to Angela, "Is there another way out of here?"

"Yes, down this hall," she said and he followed her back, going against the grain of the panicking people. They quickly came to the hallway and rushed to a hidden backdoor outside.

Layton sighed in relief to be free of the chaos. Emmy couldn't have fled far in the given time.

"It wasn't really Emmy who started all this was it?" asked Angela as she scanned the surroundings for any sign of the girl.

"Well she was rather upset when she left me," Layton worried that perhaps that paired with some alcohol was enough to set her off her temper. He'd witnessed her incident at last year's Gressenheller New Year's party. Things had gotten a little vibrant to put it nicely. But the only woman he could imagine her picking a fight with was—

"What did you say to her?" Angela stopped in her tracks and shot him a serious look.

Layton turned around avoiding his old friend's eyes. In the distance police cruisers pulled up to the Reunion Inn, and by the number of officers it appeared that the entire force had been sent to control the raging crowd. He bowed his head. "Angela I did something terribly unfai—"

A loud hissing noise came from the hotel's direction, followed by a deafening pop. Layton and Angela looked back. Everything went dead silent for a moment.

Then the world exploded in the most horrid screams he'd ever heard. They trailed out from the hotel, like one endless howling voice. He and Angela winced.

"What's going on in there?" Angela gasped. "Sounds like they're in trouble."

She followed Layton back to the hotel; the awful incoherent cries getting worse and worse with each advance.

They peered through the front doors, and into the lobby. Angela squealed at the sight. Everyone laid on the floor, twitching around in agony.

"What's wrong with them?" she clung to Layton's arm.

He stepped inside tentatively. The air was funny, cloudy, almost like a gas had been released, but was now dissipating.

Angela held her nose. "It smells bad in here, like rotten eggs mixed with skunk." She looked worriedly at all the poor people on the ground. "Randall!"

She ran from Layton's reach and crouched beside her husband. He too had fallen into the bizarre trance, rolling about and crying.

"No you can't take her! Please no! Not Angela!"

"I'm right here, Randall," she cried and shook him. "I'm right here baby!"

Layton took in the awful sight of what had become of the Barthalul Ball. The police officers that had been called for back-up all lay at the front door, brought to the same fate of twitching and crying. "Hmm," he scratched his chin.

"Hershel, he's not having a seizure is he?" Tears welled up in Angela's eyes. "We should call an ambulance."

Layton looked down at his friend.

"Get off her or I'll kill you!" Randall cried, thrashing about. Angela stepped away, choking back sobs.

"No," he said, very sure of it. "Angela, all these people…they're having nightmares."

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The tram door opened and Emmy stepped onto the platform, just outside of Pumpkin Park. She was glad to be in the open air, but this brought back memories of her first visit to Monte d'Or. What a good time the Professor and Luke had riding that roller coaster.

She sighed and headed in the direction of her hotel. Professor, what do I say to you after this?

He would not approve of her violent resorts to deal with Mildrew -even if she deserved it. Warren Coates was a sensitive spot, and the woman had no right to bring it up. Mildrew was asking for it anyway.

The best thing for Emmy right now would be to return to the Dromedary and hope Luke wouldn't ask too many questions . The boy had to be lonely after spending so much time by himself, and she could use a little smile from Luke after this very long night. Not to mention his nightmare…poor thing might be too afraid to sleep.

Luke had been most upset at being left alone at the hotel. Part of that was due to his worry about her, after the bad dream he'd had. He'd given her a giant hug before she and the Professor had left and said, "Remember your promise Emmy."

The promise not to do anything reckless. Well, I kept that one for a full eight hours…hurray.

As she came to the intersection that would take her to the hotel something else caught her attention. Down the street stood a man in a white suit and….Sunglasses? Why that's odd, I know the lights are bright, but it's still dark, Emmy stared at him for a moment longer before he turned towards the city's square.

If the Professor were here he'd strongly advise against following a stranger through the streets, but Emmy wasn't in the mindset to listen to anything Layton had to tell her. When I try to not think about him, I only think about him more, she grumbled.

Upon turning the corner she lost sight of the man, but something far more disturbing caught her attention. An alarm of some sort –and a very loud one at that- coming from down the street, right where the museum was.

No, she thought and a panic surged through her. She raced towards the blaring noise, her bare feet striking the pavement hard –it was still better than high heels. She willed herself to run faster. Emmy ran up to the museum's doors and pulled. They were locked but someone had definitely triggered the alarm.

Where are the cops? She scanned the area, but found no sign of a cruiser's flashing lights in the distance. Had no police turned up at the scene?

A small crashing sound –like breaking glass- caught her attention, and she whirled around to see a blur of white hop through a window. Emmy went over to investigate. She found an empty frame, with bits of shattered glass scattered about.

This has to be what set off the alarm, she thought. But I swear someone just went in.

She really should have waited for the police to come, but Emmy Altava was a woman of action. Looking from the glass littering the ground to her bare feet she sighed. Maybe I should have kept the heels.

Emmy backed up from the window, the worst of the shards were probably on the other side, but she was confident she could make the jump. With a deep breath she charged the window, springing off the ground and flying over the sill. She came somersaulting onto the cold ground. She checked herself over and had thankfully avoided any glass.

The room was very dark. Emmy squinted, trying to make out where she was. After feeling around and finding a wall, she discovered she was in the art gallery –confirmed when she knocked a painting off said wall.

In the distance came faint footsteps. "Hello," Emmy called, making her way to the door. Shouldn't there be a security guard around?

She opened the door and found herself in the main lobby. Thankfully it was illuminated by the museum's huge front windows.

Opposite her, looming over the room like a bad omen was the reconstructed Barthalul's Door. She watched as one side slide shut ever so slightly, causing a boom to resonate in the hollow space.

Emmy approached the Door with caution, finding it had an eerier aura now that she was alone and in the dark. As she neared, two figures caught her attention at the Door's feet. She looked them over; both had been hog tied and knocked unconscious. One was wearing a security guard uniform and the other was—

"Henry!" Emmy gasped. She ran to his side and turned the poor man over. Other than some slight swelling from a bump to the head, he didn't seem to have suffered anything too serious.

"Nnnn…Master Randall…I failed you…I'm so sorry…" Henry mumbled rolling his head from side to side. The security guard was making similar sounds, only about being caught for tax evasion. They're dreaming, she realised. Just like the Professor the other night…Dammit Altava, why can't you get the man out of your mind!

She looked up at the Door. It stared down at her. It wasn't even the real thing, but she still felt so small next to it. Emmy sighed and gave it a good, solid kick. It swung open, welcoming her to the Barthalul exhibit. She stepped inside.

Behind the Door lay total darkness; the only light coming from the lobby. Emmy made her way to the middle of the room, where she remembered the podium holding the artifact to be. As she came to its base, the alarm shut off, plunging her into silence.

Someone cut it. Her pulse pounded in her head.

A light flickered on directly above her, causing Emmy to jump. It weakly lit up the podium and a small area around it. She dared to look up.

The top of the podium sat vacant. The Barthalul artifact was gone.

Emmy took a step back, and was surprised to feel something under her foot. She looked down at a piece of paper. Gingerly, she picked up the note and, as she feared, on the back it said, unmistakably: Emmy Altava.

She opened the letter and read it in the poor light.

There goes another, Miss Altava. My patience wears thin, and yet no word from you? Might I say I am a little disappointed ...

Now, if you refuse to cooperate, then I shall make you cooperate. However I am confident things won't come to that.

And don't worry about tracking me down. Just get what I want, and I'll find you.

The sound of footsteps drew her attention from the note, and she turned in time to see the Door slam shut.

No, someone was here, she ran towards the Door, her heart beating fast. They had to be involved…it had to be the thief—

The light died, turning the whole room black. Emmy screamed in surprise and tumbled over something in the dark.