Chapter 13-The sorceress's pawn

"I must say, Myra, that this is certainly a delectable banquet!" Layton complimented as he delicately bit into a rather large slice of succulent meat, "It must've taken a lot of effort to prepare."

"Why thank you, Professor," she answered modestly with a smile as she gingerly wiped her mouth with a silk embroidered napkin, "It isn't every day I get to give guests the pleasure of trying my tenderly made cuisine."

Judging by the way she was constantly taking part in conversation and eagerly trying to start her own, her current statement was completely valid. Connie was rather quiet from her corner of the table but joined in on various points of the conversation with an enthusiastic tone as she carefully chewed at her meat whilst keeping her gaze averted to her plate most of the time.

"This is really delicious, Myra," she added generously, "You've really excelled yourself tonight!"

One look at the table would've told anyone that that was an understatement: from end to end it was completely smothered in scrumptious, enticing dishes, each having been prepared until it resembled a genius's work of art. The main source of the meal, the luscious, tender joint of smoothly wrapped roast beef glazed in fine sauces, sat proudly on a gleaming silverware platter in the centre of the table. With a size identical to the grand, curved globe that the professor presented neatly on his dusty shelves in his office there was no wonder that Myra wasn't concerned about there being too little for themselves and the group included. Steaming dishes of a variety of vegetables were spread out unevenly around the table, their contents ranging from petite rounded peas and fresh silky skinned carrots to delicate mountains of supple cabbage. Golden stuffing etched with countless herbs was a delicious added extra to contribute with the gorgeous mouth-watering aroma of viscous scalding gravy. Flasks and bottles of a strange coloured juice and a fruity wine were arranged in rows next to the array of precious crystal glasses on top of a colour coordinating scarlet table cloth of pure velvet. For dessert Myra had prepared a convenient selection of fruity tarts encrusted with golden pastry and oozing with syrup. Why the woman seemed to cook so much for so few people was a puzzle that the professor couldn't solve at that current moment in time.

Flora, Luke and Emmy politely ate their meals in a decorous manner, carefully cutting into their meat and chewing considerably slowly, despite how suddenly hungry they'd become after a single glance at the tempting feast in front of them, although Flora occasionally had to remind Luke and Emmy of Rosa's warning about getting indigestion before they'd listen to her. Clive skewered various portions of his meal with his fork and swallowed hesitantly, being distracted by the random comments being exchanged around the table and the mesmerising look in Connie's eyes whenever their gaze met. The boy seriously felt desirous about kicking his guardian brusquely from underneath the table when she forced a whistle down his ear after his hand had brushed against Connie's when they reached for the same thing at the same time. He simply stammered an apology and went back to nibbling at his food. Clark and Brenda sat opposite each other and were engaged in an intriguing conversation with Emmy about how her fear of arachnids came to be, cheeks reddening in embarrassment the whole time. Myra sat the furthest end of the table with Connie and the professor on either side of her. She picked at various ingredients of her measly portion on her plate but other than that she didn't really eat as much as some of the others.

"I trust that Connie has been of use to you in your queries?" she asked peering questioningly at Connie.

Layton nodded gratefully at her as Connie turned tiredly to face her guardian.

"Of course, Myra-and she has been extremely helpful, providing us with some key information to our case."

"That's good to hear. All of her life the burden of loss has forever been hanging on her chest but it's good for her to finally relieve herself from it. I'd like to thank you for that."

"It was nothing at all, Madam," he responded benevolently.

Connie cleared her throat and looked at Myra with assertive eyes.

"I'm going to help them uncover the truth about what really happened to Seryna," she declared boldly as she placed down her cutlery with more force than intended, "I've been waiting all of my life for answers and I shall do whatever it takes to achieve them."

"Ah! Excellent! Professor, I must sincerely thank you for giving Connie such an opportunity! However…you must be careful, dear. If…if anything were to happen to you I…I…"

Myra trailed off, shaking her head sadly as she resumed eating quietly. Connie swallowed.

"I…I know…I'll be careful…"

"What do you do all day in such a grand place as this?" Luke asked conversationally, "It must be amazing to have such a huge place to live in!"

"Well…I don't really do much in fairness. Mainly I lock myself in my room and read or think. I sometimes look out over the balcony and spend time with—"

"In other words her daily routine is think, read, sleep, think, read, sleep-unless she's called down for meals or when I ask her to do some chores for me. She really is a marvellous girl and I'm privileged to be her current carer in the darkest of times."

The professor nodded in agreement as he shot a gentle smile at Flora. The woman's previous sentence and the current happenings however didn't really seem to cover all of the facts he'd acquired since one crucial detail had been constantly avoided. Eyes falling on the cold, empty chair next to Emmy he frowned thoughtfully and addressed Myra.

"Are you expecting someone else to join us tonight?" he enquired as he prudently rested his cutlery on the edge of his plate, "I seem to get the impression that this is set out for another person since there is a plate already laid out."

Connie peered suspiciously at the professor as Myra coughed slightly at his words and paled.

"Your…deductive skills are baffling, Professor!" she exclaimed as she wringed her hands, "Well…I wasn't planning on another person to dine with us just now. It was laid out in the event that it would be needed-but tonight that doesn't seem to be the case for—"

"That will not…be so…"

The group spun around swiftly in an alarmed manner at the unidentifiable, echoing voice, almost relieving Emmy and Flora from their seats. Layton looked on inquisitively as a dark figure of a rather small demeanour stalked towards the table in deliberate movements. From her current appearance it was wise to deduce that the figure was most likely female. Out of the corner of his eye he notices Myra's eyes widen slightly at the sight of the newcomer and her nails constantly tap against the edge of the table. Connie raised her eyebrows uncertainly and wrapped her arms protectively around herself as if it would serve as effective armour, biting her lip so fiercely that tiny drops of scarlet dyed her white skin. Emmy scrutinised the figure warily but tried to make her voice sound as polite as possible.

"H…hello there…would…would you like to sit here?" she offered hesitantly, gesturing to the empty chair next to her (even though the last thing she wanted was some mysterious, ominous mannered girl sitting next to her).

The girl blinked gradually as if not quite understanding what the woman had asked, before taking stiff, rigid steps towards her. Without a word she crossed over to the empty chair and forced herself onto it, struggling slightly in the process. The group were just about able to supress gasps of horror and disbelief but found their eyes glued to her appalling appearance as the light fell on her face. Every inch of the girl's flesh shone like diamonds in darkness and was set in a rigid, inflexible mould. Her complexion was so anomalous to their own she could've easily been mistaken for a marble statue or an undead being. Her skeletal figure appeared so emaciated she looked as though she'd never touched a morsel of food in her entire life; hollow, uneven gaps made prominent through her garments clearly showed the location of every bone in her body. As a result the ragged, shadowy garments draping to her thighs seemed several sizes too large for her anorexic figure, smothered in several rips and tears through the weak fabric. The girl's hair, which had a shade identical to rich melted chocolate, hung down her painfully erect spine to just above her ankles. It appeared so impenetrable that nothing would've been able to tear it apart and every strand was matted with grime and crimson substances that eerily resembled blood. Her fringe was cut straight across her eyes, in the same despicable state as her hair and it clearly hadn't been touched for weeks. Underneath the tangled mess was a pair of extraordinarily significant eyes that resembled black holes with their beckoning call to lure passers-by into danger. Unkempt and dishevelled with withered limbs that barely looked strong enough to support her and several cuts and bruises pop marking her skin-who on earth was this wretched creature? She seemed like a fantasy creation out of those macabre horror stories none of them would dream about reading.

Layton peered at her, sickened at the sight. Brenda inhaled sharply and had to turn away before the terrifying sight became permanently imprinted in her mind. Eventually finding the courage to speak the professor rounded on Myra firmly but not aggressively.

"Do...you know this girl?" he demanded, horrified, "Does…she live here?"

Myra's hands began trembling furiously but she managed a convincing nod in reply.

"Y…yes…she…she does…," Connie answered, perspiration soaking her forehead, "This is…is…this is Lily…"

"Wh...What?!" Flora exclaimed in shock, shakily turning to the pair of mesmerising eyes near to her, "This is…Lily? Your…your other daughter, Madam Blood?!"

"What…on earth happened to her?" Clark inquired apprehensively, trying to console his wife, "Is she…?"

Myra averted her gaze to her plate, squeezing her eyes shut as if in agony. Emmy felt her body frozen, powerless to move when in the girl's presence as Luke and Clive studied her with a similar expression of pity. The professor observed her actions and then turned his attention back to the silent girl in the corner.

"So…you must be Lily?" he inquired, being the only one possessing a voice at the current time, "Where have you been, little one? Are you hurt?"

The girl simply stared across the table at something only she could see, uncommunicative and acting as though the top hatted man didn't exist.

"What are you looking at, dear? Is something wrong?"

Silence.

"Please say something, Lily," Clive said soothingly, joining in on the attempt to get the mute girl to release her tongue.

Silence.

"Professor, I don't think this reserved girl is going to give you some answers anytime soon. Let's leave her alone for now," Emmy suggested, unnerved by the frightening atmosphere.

Layton nodded and finally faced Connie, accepting their clear defeat.

"Lily seems rather…preoccupied with something," he admitted, peering back at said-girl, "Is she usually like this?"

Connie dabbed at her face with the napkin and nodded hesitantly. Her cheeks appeared suddenly flushed and she looked fairly close to tears.

"U…u…unfortunately she…doesn't tend to speak much…it's…it's perfectly natural for her to be so—"

"Flora Reinhold…Golden Apple of the decaying village…the one sought by the sect…"

Their heads jerked in the girl's direction, watching as her large eyes stared straight into Flora's as her fingers began tracing an unidentifiable shape on the table repeatedly. Flora's fork fell from her grip and collided with her plate with a deafening clang. She began shaking slightly and shrank away from Lily's persistent glare as her quivering lips barely formed her next sentence.

"How…how…how do you kn…know me?" she faltered in a fearful tone.

"The sect is all powerful…it knows all and sees all…," Lily answered in an abnormally numinous voice, sounding similar to a whisper as she refused to blink during her sentence, "It is…watching us now…watching…and waiting…for the perfect prophesised moment..."

Immensely perplexed and rather panicked the professor immediately wrapped his arms around Flora's tremoring shoulders. Emmy clutched Clive's hand so tightly underneath the table that his wrists became numb as a result. Luke, his parents and Connie all looked cagily at the young girl, trying to comprehend her words.

"Is…is she an oracle?" Luke asked feebly, remembering the time when he used to foretell the 'future' in the mystery of the spectre, "She sounds as if she's telling the future...or something along those lines…"

Myra shook her head sadly, shuddering more than ever.

"N…not exactly-Lily is no oracle but she…she can see distant visions of the future," she answered as calmly as she could manage, "Other…other than to mutter these incomprehensible meanings…she rarely speaks at all…"

"Well…if one thing is for certain she mentioned Flora…being sought out by a…sect?"

The girl's words echoed in Layton's brain as he tried to avoid Lily's piercing, unnerving gaze. Clive raised his hand weakly.

"Um…what is a 'sect'?" Clive wondered aloud, images of a terrifying, blood thirsty creature prowling through his mind and sending petrifying vibrations pulsing through his body, "It's…something after Flora…in that case…"

Emmy coughed and peered dreadfully at the young girl. Flora was too terrified to speak; what would a 'sect' want with her? What was this 'sect'? What had she ever done to offend it? Why was everyone after her? She buried her face in her hands and tried desperately to block out the intent pair of eyes penetrating her mind.

"Usually it's…it's like this religious secret organisation with their own beliefs which followers take incredibly strongly and seriously," Emmy explained as simply as she could manage, "Whatever this one is…I don't like the sound of it one little bit…"

"I…don't recall the villagers mentioning of a sect…," Brenda added quietly, gripping Clark's hand like a vice, "Is it…concealed?"

"A sect…a sect…"

Luke looked at Lily sincerely, asking the question that was drumming in his friend's mind.

"What is this sect? Do you know anything else about it?" he asked, trying to sound brave although that was the last thing he felt, "Why would they be after…F…Flora?"

Lily turned her head a fraction of an inch but kept her eyes focused on Flora.

"The sect…is all powerful…at her command...it does as she wishes…it disposes of all…who dare trespass…by killing—"

"That's enough, Lily!" Myra yelled, raising her voice as she glared menacingly at the girl, "I will not hear one more word from you about…her and her sect!"

"Myra!" Connie snapped, slamming her hands angrily on the table, "You know she can't help it! Stop speaking to her in that manner!"

The woman leaned across the table and fixed her with a foreboding, intimidating glance.

"…Did you tell me what to do just then?" she asked, her tone suddenly cold, "Did you, Connie—"

"Of…course not, Myra…," Connie stammered, shrinking back in her chair, averting her gaze in fear, "I…I apologise…"

"Please, both of you, there is no need to argue," Layton announced calmly which effectively silenced their argument, "This…is...highly—"

"P…P…Professor…," Clive interrupted, stumbling greatly over his words, "Is…is that…on h…her cheek…?"

Layton followed the direction of Clive's outstretched finger until his eyes eventually rested on a specific area on Lily's face, directly aligned with her left burning cheek. His eyes expanded in trepidation and he blinked several times, desperately trying to convince himself that he was imagining things. His fear was confirmed as awed gasps resounded across the table and Flora began nibbling her nails hurriedly, oblivious to Luke and Clive's attempts to reassure her. Carved deeply into Lily's flesh was a charred black area as dark as a midnight sky and roughly about the size of her fist in shape and size. It was extremely conspicuous on her ashen skin and a small stalk crept up the side of her face from the dark unidentifiable shadow imprinted on her cheek. When putting the two shapes together they clearly formed a single image, one that had been witnessed too many times during the past forty-eight hours-and one that struck sheer terror into their hearts.

"That's…that's…that's…," Flora faltered as the room spun around her.

"The sorceress's mark!" Luke finished in horror, almost knocking over the wine glasses as he went to thrust his finger at the unresponsive girl in the corner, "She…she has the sorceress's mark, Professor!"

It was a dark apple, traced into her hide as if it was part of her body.

"Wh…WHAT?!" Emmy exploded as Clive had to steady her to ensure that she didn't fall off of her chair, "How is that p…possible?"

"It…would seem so…," Brenda answered in a hoarse voice

"What's it doing on this innocent girl of all people?" Clark whispered, feeling a wave of pity, "Does she…know the sorceress?"

"I cannot answer that, Clark," Layton answered as he turned to the paling forms of their hosts, "but I believe that they can, or do you wish to further hide the truth from us?"

Connie hiccoughed and rested her head in her hands as Myra wrenched her sleeves down and folded her arms, eyes firmly closed. The girl tapped her shoulder gently, her voice several decibels quieter.

"Myra…there is no point in hiding it…they'll find out anyway," she pressed her guardian, "Please? Perhaps they can do something about it...if this is linked in with Seryna and the events at St Mystere and…everything else…"

Myra hesitated for a few moments before sighing deeply and flexing her fingers repeatedly before she found the strength to look the professor in the eye.

"V…very well…," she answered, clearing her throat and tracing patterns on the back of her hand with her long nails, "You'll…have to know…everything…"

Layton and Luke each gripped one of Flora's hands as she shakily opened her eyes and listened to Myra's tale with the rest of the group, heart pounding against her ribs.

"This…sect that Lily is repeatedly going on about," she started slowly as Connie tentatively touched her arm supportively, "It is one shrouded in secrecy and dark doings. Lily…Lily is a member of this sect. Although she's…only young Lily is exceedingly gifted and possesses incomprehensible powers and telepathic and telekinetic abilities. She…has no idea what she's dealing with and she cannot help what she does. The only thing she believes in…are the beliefs of the sect and the requests of their leader. The leader of the sect is worshipped like an immortal. Lily…she does nothing but practise rituals, lock herself away in her room and refuse to communicate with the outside world-even worse than Connie. She…always acts as if she's in some unbreakable trance-she doesn't groom herself, she doesn't change her clothes…she rarely touches her food…I don't know how I'll ever get her back…"

She sniffed before continuing, her tone gradually becoming sadder.

"However she never used to be like this; she was always such a radiant child in her youth. I remember the days in which she'd jump out of bed and get out her toys or paint box. Make up adventures in the garden, read, have fun…be a child. She had a perfect life and…when I first took in Connie the two were like proper sisters although Connie was still grieving over…her friend. Then…one day…we were just sitting at home. Lily had gone out to the market to run a few errands. I stayed with Connie at home and treated it like a normal day. We prepared tea and waited for Lily to return home. We waited for the whole night…but she wouldn't come back…We were both helpless and in hysterics, waiting for weeks…and she wouldn't come home…"

"That's…that's awful…," Brenda gasped sympathetically, "Where did she go?"

"She's…she's here today though," Clive pointed out cautiously, "So…you must've found her eventually. The story has a happy ending…right?"

Myra scowled in revulsion.

"If only that were true, dear boy, our lives would be so much happier and peaceful. No. It was about a month after she'd disappeared…and then just like that…she came staggering through the front door…in a state twice as worse as her current appearance. It was a disturbing and repulsive sight."

Emmy found it hard to imagine how much worse the girl could've appeared compared to now when she looked half dead. Either way she didn't particularly want to find out.

"I demanded to know what had happened, believing that she'd been kidnapped, but the only things she'd utter were prophecies and meanings truly baffling to understand. I confined her to the manor for her safety…I couldn't live to see my little girl suffer again like she had done. After that she slowly grew distant from us, locking herself in her room and not even surfacing when I called her for mealtimes. During that time we'd wake up in the middle of the night to find her gone again. We'd panic and then she'd return to us, in a pitiful state, the following morning. I'd lock every door to prevent her from leaving but she still managed to evade us. This carried on for months until I finally decided to get her to talk about it. I sat down with her for the first time in several weeks-and that was when I saw it: that infernal, diabolical mark on her cheek. I recognised it immediately. That was when I found out everything…and I was powerless to against her movements."

The professor thought for a moment before addressing Myra.

"The mark on Lily's cheek-you said that you recognised it. How did you know what it was, may I ask?"

Myra's eyes flashed to the vast, marvellous portrait at the other side of the room, which the group had been marvelling over during her absence, before sighing and placing a hand to her heart again.

"That mark…I saw it many years ago when I was sixteen-the age Lily is now. It is the mark of the…Sect of Darkness. I should know, since my own father was captured by the sect and forced against his own will to do their bidding…," Myra whispered painfully as a tear rolled down her suddenly flushed cheek, "He'd come back home…with that mark prominent on him…and those dead eyes and skeletal, sickly appearance. My mother did all she could to break their hold over him, to make him a normal human being with a will again but she was too weak. After that…he didn't return. We believed him dead but that cursed sect had ruined our lives and my father's. During my whole life my family had been constantly against another family who lived fairly close to the village. They disagreed with our way of living and vowed to change our lives. Then shortly after that my mother was murdered. I…I would never forgive them or the sect for what they'd done!"

"Was…was your father gifted in any way?" Clive asked gently, "He must've been a remarkable man-before…you know…"

"Oh yes, he truly was," Myra added, slightly proud, "He…he had taken up the study of apothecary and enchantments. I managed to follow in his footsteps to this day; I'm rather skilled in the field of apothecary and ailments."

"That must be really interesting to study," Brenda commented, almost dreamily as she winked at her husband.

Clark gave her a look that basically screamed: 'You can gladly go to some apothecary classes-if we get out of this mystery alive-and if we can find some spare money conveniently lying around', but it was clear he was joking as he smiled back at her. Myra beamed.

"It certainly is, I'll tell you that," she continued, "Compared to the sorcery used by the Sect of Darkness it's—"

Emmy coughed weakly and raised a trembling hand.

"Did…did you just say the 'Sect of Darkness'?" she asked, trying to keep a steady composure, "Why…why does that sound so—"

"Just when I thought it was all over, that I'd never hear from them again…they came back, this time taking my child away from me. Dragging her into the dark dealings of the sect…there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it! The Sect of Darkness is…indeed at large once again-and the leader, who I've seen come here to collect Lily at times from a distance, is the most vile, loathsome, monstrous creature to have ever set foot upon ground!" she spat venomously as her fists clenched.

Luke and Flora tried to decipher her previous sentence and gasped as a horrifying realisation hit them.

"The Sect of Darkness…," they both spoke simultaneously before Flora broke off in terror, "Professor, do you think…?"

"Indeed…I believe that you may have hit the nail on the head there," he answered seriously, "I doubt it is mere coincidence for the Sect of Darkness and the Sorceress of Darkness to have such similar sounding names."

"Then…you think that the sorceress attacking Flora's village, the Sorceress of Darkness, is in actual fact the leader of the sect that Lily is part of?!"

"I do, Connie-and I believe that the fate of Seryna also links in with these two things, since she seemed to have a mystical aura about her and she too was taken by dark beings," he added before turning again to Lily, "So…if we are to assume that the sorceress is in fact the leader of the sect-then Lily is acting against her own will under the sorceress's powers? How long has she been going to this sect?"

"About…about two years now," Myra answered quietly as she tugged at her sleeves in agitation and fury at the despicable beings who had ruined her life.

Flora squealed and clung onto Layton's hand tighter.

"If…if that fact is true-then that explains what Lily meant by me being…sought by the sect…if that is correct…then the whole sect is at her command…why…why does she want m…me so much and…and—"

"Shh, it's okay my girl. They'll have to get through me to reach you at least and a true gentleman does anything in his power to protect those closest to him," Layton told her gently as he proceeded to hug her encouragingly, "but I believe that the sorceress wants you because Reinhold blood runs through you-and she clearly has a grudge against the Reinhold family. For whatever reasons though I have no idea."

"Do…do you think she knows of my powers?"

Connie shot a quick glance at Flora before watching Lily warily again as she stared into nothingness.

"I have no idea, Flora dear. It would certainly make sense on why she so desperately wants to hunt the Reinholds if she did know…but I believe that there is something more sinister in the works here…and I believe that this sect is worth investigating. If it is truly linked to the sorceress's activities and could help us in our queries then I believe that the best course of action would be to head there-soon."

Myra abruptly ended his speech as she shot up into a standing position, pushing her chair aside effortlessly as she stared at Layton with terrified eyes.

"Are…are you insane?!" she whispered, "You've seen the destruction that this sorceress has done! Isn't that enough to change your minds?! Going…going to the Sect of Darkness is basically handing yourselves over to…her for a slow and agonising end! The sect…the sect itself is well concealed—I mean I've been searching for it and have found nothing of the sort. Besides even if you could infiltrate the sect somehow then…you wouldn't get very far…"

Layton frowned.

"What do you mean, Myra?"

"Those who interfere with her wishes find themselves easily disposable!" Lily hissed suddenly, her head jerking in the professor's direction as her eyes narrowed to slits, "We will not let anyone who interferes with her wishes leave alive!"

"W…we?" Luke faltered as the realisation hit him, "Oh no…don't…don't tell us there's—"

"Hundreds of them," Myra finished with a terse nod, "All doing her bidding! She doesn't care about them as long as she eliminates her enemies! Lily is just the same: she is the sorceress's play piece-a pawn in her vile games! Each of them are just as if not more dedicated to her than Lily-you don't stand a chance getting in, let alone getting out. Besides…Lily is more than capable of disposing of unwanted…guests…"

Connie shuddered violently and bit her lip as Myra peered grimly at Lily, who had returned to her 'normal' state and was tracing shapes on the table again. The question playing on Emmy's lips was out before she could stop it.

"Myra, now that we know the truth…could you please tell us what was so threatening in that room that you forbid us of going in?" she asked seriously, part of her not wanting to hear what the answer would be.

The woman simply glanced at the staircase and picked up her wine glass casually.

"That room," she started in a heavy tone, "is where Lily dwells-and it was there that the first overly curious tourist whom we offered shelter for the night went into. Needless to say…he was never seen again…"

Emmy almost choked on the spoonful of sticky treacle pudding she had just swallowed. She suddenly found that the treacle had a disturbingly similar texture and taste as blood. Clive gagged and the professor instinctively wrapped his arms around Luke and Flora again. Brenda wore a look of rapid nausea and even though Clark could speak he couldn't hide the expression of sheer disgust and bewilderment on his face.

"Never…seen again?" he asked hesitantly for confirmation.

Myra bowed her head.

"I…didn't know that Lily would behave like that…but I did warn him not to go into that room," she said, shivering at the gruesome memory, "I remember his piercing screams-they could rip apart my soul. Connie and I ran straight to Lily's room-and all that remained was his wretched corpse, eyes open…blood gushing everywhere. Lily was just standing there as if in a trance muttering some incantation over his body…"

She shook her head in distress. Connie picked up from where she'd left off.

"He only wanted shelter for the night…we wanted to help him…and his stay brought him his death. Since then Myra refused any travellers…but then the second person to come had absolutely nowhere to go. He was in such a pitiful state that we agreed to let him in-on the condition that he wouldn't go anywhere near Lily's room. Our…our words fell on deaf ears…"

Flora whimpered.

"Did he…die too?"

"Thankfully no-he must've been born under a lucky star. We could hear his screams and ran to stop Lily even though we thought it was futile-but he somehow managed to overcome her and escaped from the room and the manor, screaming until he was a mile away from this place," she explained, "Myra and I went into market shortly after in the local village to buy some supplies and it seemed that the talk had been spreading like a wildfire: the survivor had spread the warning about Blood Manor, claiming that it was cursed and meant certain death. After that we had no visitors for a whole year. The servants decided that it would be wise to pack their things and go; those that were lucky enough to be alive fled the place-we don't know what happened to them after that…"

The professor thought for a moment as Emmy swallowed the lump in her throat and felt guilty about thinking of betraying their trust.

"So…that's why all of the villagers were so freaked out when we mentioned about coming here!" she exclaimed, "I…I had no idea…"

"So all of this time, when you were telling us to not go into that room, it was…all for our own safety?" Layton enquired.

Connie sighed.

"You seemed so persistent that Myra couldn't turn you away…and we didn't want more deaths on our hands from being here. That was why I lied about Lily being out-I apologise for that, but I guess a man like you would've found out the truth anyway."

"It's quite alright, Connie dear, you were only doing what was best," he replied softly as Flora yawned quietly and slumped against Layton's arm, "and again I must thank you for your hospitality. We'll leave in the morning in search of this sect-it is time we got some answers to the truth."

Connie and Myra exchanged glances containing conflicting emotions, being interrupted by the soft breathing issuing from the silent girl in the corner as her skeletal chest rose up and down at irregular intervals. The two smiled slightly before Connie coughed.

"I…I can assist you with any information you may find useful, Professor," she started in an apologetic tone, "However, when it comes to going into the Sect of Darkness itself…I'm afraid I don't feel comfortable enough to venture out there-I…don't want to cause Myra any worry and I can keep Lily distracted whilst you're investigating. I'm…really sorry, Professor—"

"There is no need to apologise at all, my dear. Your help is more than sufficient in this situation-I could never forgive myself if any harm were to come to an innocent girl such as yourself…and I'm debating whether I should allow the rest of you to accompany me, lest you be put in—"

"We're thorns in your side, Professor-and there is nothing you can do to change our minds!" Emmy told him firmly with a cheerful grin on her face, "If we get scared you'll be there to calm our fears, Professor! Besides it's time to shed some light on this mysterious case!"

"Plus…we'll hopefully find some answers about…what happened to *yawn* my sister…," Flora yawned.

Luke smiled at her tired form, hardly able to keep his eyes open himself. The professor chuckled and peered around the table to see Clive jerking upwards in fright as Emmy gave him a sharp prod to keep him awake. The only ones properly awake were Clark, Brenda and the professor even though he himself was quite tired from the day's events. Connie rested her hand against her head as Myra glanced at the clock.

"Well, it is getting quite late already," she exclaimed as she slowly rose from the table, "You must all be very tired and you've had a long day. I'm sure you're eager to get some sleep-you'll need as much as you can if you want to investigate the Sect of Darkness…if you're that eager to go then…there will be no dissuading you…just…God save your blessed souls!"

The professor nodded as Connie pushed her chair under the table and smiled at the group.

"Feel free to do what you wish-just…remember our warning about going into Lily's room…please…"

Lily stirred slightly as Connie ran a hand through her straggly hair and kissed her lightly, a sad expression on her face.

"Shall I let Lily rest on the sofa?" Connie asked Myra quietly as she rubbed her eyes, "I think I'll go to bed in a little while too…"

"Leave her there, Connie. It will be best not to disturb her," Myra answered as she began piling up several plates, "Connie dear, before you go could you please help me tidy up?"

The girl nodded and hastily started helping her clear away the table. Layton offered a hand to assist her but she politely declined.

"Oh no, Professor-you must all get some rest. It is the duty of every host to ensure their guests' comforts come first."

"If you say so, dear," he answered with a chuckle as he stroked her smooth hand, "Both of you, sleep well."

"You too, Professor Layton!" Myra called from the kitchen, "Oh and Connie-could I have a word?"

Connie gave each of them a last farewell before obediently carrying her load into the next room. Luke stretched and rubbed his eyes.

"Are we going to bed then, Professor?" he asked hopefully as Flora's eyelids gradually opened from sleep for the fifth time that evening.

The professor ruffled his daughter's hair and helped the two to their feet.

"I believe so, my boy. Are you sure the rest of you are comfortable with the arrangements we decided earlier?"

Clive groggily got to his feet and staggered over next to Luke as Brenda tenderly took Flora's limp hand.

"We're fine, Hershel. You can rest assured that Emmy and I won't let anything bad happen to her tonight," she answered brightly before hugging her son, "Don't stay up too late, Luke, okay?"

"Mhmm…of course, Mum," he answered in a slightly slurred voice as he returned her hug, "You sleep well too. Same goes for you two, Emmy and Flora."

Emmy finished her embrace with Clive, which apparently almost suffocated him, before grinning at the others.

"I'm always alright! You guys sleep okay too," she added as she smiled at the professor and cracked her knuckles, "If anyone dares lay a finger on Flora I'll have them wiped out before you can yell: Is there a lead pipe anywhere?!"

"Understood…Emmy," he responded hesitantly, uncertain as to whether the arrangements would work after all.

"Oh and Clive," she added, turning to the boy with a dangerous glint in her eyes, "NO spiders! Are we clear?"

"Crystal," he answered, "Good night, guys."

"Thank you…," Flora replied as Layton kissed her cheek, "Professor…what if something happens—"

"We'll be by your side in the blink of an eye-I won't let anything happen to you, dear. I promised you earlier-and a gentleman always keeps his promises."

The girl nodded and hugged him one last time as Clark kissed his wife and watched her leave with Emmy and Flora in tow. Luke trudged up the staircase with his father and the professor drowsily, his head spinning.

"Do…do you think anything will happen tonight, Professor?"

"I…don't know, Luke. This manor is certainly not ordinary…but I doubt anything dangerous will arise…"

Unfortunately he had no idea of the horrifying events that would unfold that night…


The girl lay on her back, sinking into the smooth mattress below her and wrapped in thick burgundy sheets in a chrysalis of comforting protection. Her pale fists flexed around the covers as though her life depended on it, her body curled into a tight ball of security. Scarlet swimming in her cheeks, hair still secured in her velvet ribbon and flowing around her narrow shoulders, eyes softly closed in a state of blissful serenity-innocence was the only word that could describe her. Brenda smiled to herself and stroked Flora's hair from where she sat perched at the end of her bed. Seeing the girl in this current state brought a flutter of hope to her heart and it helped drown out all of the negative thoughts and feelings surrounding the current mystery. It distressed and sickened her mightily to think that, even now, dark beings were probably gathered in tense circles plotting on how to bring about the downfall of her family, her village and herself. It was despicable that a young, innocent, adorable and loving girl like the one sleeping next to her was being constantly threatened by dangers wherever she went, hunted by this evil sorceress and watching her friends and relatives suffer in the process. That wasn't the type of life she'd want anyone to live through, yet alone someone whom she greatly cared about. Flora deserved none of it-she should've been living a normal life as most of the teenagers her age did-but fate had obviously had other plans. As well as that the fact that the whole case in general was terrifying her witless. Brenda seriously couldn't imagine how the girl had the courage to be able to sleep at all, unless she was trying to appear brave for her friends' sakes.

Sighing, the woman glanced down at the all-too-familiar crimson carpet covering the floorboards of the room and closed her eyes in thought. Even the soothing and tranquil atmosphere that their room had to offer failed to ease their minds. Compared to the splendour of the main rooms of the manor the rooms that they'd been offered were simple in comparison, yet more than adequate and contented for their needs. Shelves and a small bookcase made of the same mahogany material as those downstairs lined the smooth walls coated in caramel shaded wallpaper. A set of three scarlet fabric seats were arranged in a perfect circle in the corner of the room, another chair similar in size and stature to a simple office chair positioned next to the desk. Other than a few worn books stacked in uneven rows on the bookcase shelves the room only held three identical beds with the same burgundy shaded covers and a few various oil paintings hanging loosely on the walls. A vase of flowers on one of the shelves brought the welcoming sense of home to them also.

The door creaked open and Emmy crept inside, interrupting the woman from her current thoughts. She smiled warmly at Flora's sleeping form and advanced towards her bed inaudibly on her toes.

"I wish I was that cute!" she mouthed to Brenda as she slumped on the opposite bed.

"I know…," she replied in a hushed whisper, "It's…unfair for her to deal with all of this! I just…hope that we can get this case solved soon…it's proving too much for the dear to handle!"

Emmy nodded tiredly in reply, running a hand through her straggled dark curls. Her eyelids appeared to be drooping heavily as she yawned.

"It isn't fair-and whoever is behind this will come to justice…no matter…how long it *yawn* takes…there's no need to be worrying, Brenda. It's…the same for all of us...and…I'd like to thank you for the little lecture we had back at the inn earlier. It…really helped me to…understand the relationship a mother has with her son…"

Brenda smiled in response and slid gracefully off of the bed, trying not to laugh at Emmy's bedraggled mess of hair.

"You're welcome, dear, but I think it would be wise for you to get some rest," she suggested kindly as she gestured to the dark rings under her eyes, "You look absolutely shattered."

"Oh really? Thanks a tonne for the compliment!" she answered in a slurred voice as she flopped onto her pillow, "The bathroom is four doors to the left of this room…just…don't fall down the sink or anything like that…or the sink dwelling monster may come up for a little midnight snack…"

"I'll try not to…," she muttered quietly, rolling her eyes a little as she closed her bedroom door behind her.

It was almost midnight and the manor seemed twice its usual size at this time of day. It also seemed twice as terrifying and dangerous, since the only light guiding her across the corridor were a few tiny oil lamps whose embers were gradually starting to fade in the shadowy presence of night. Apart from herself the corridor was completely free of living souls, deserted for the time being. Even though she wore nothing on her feet her footsteps echoed eerily around the manor, magnified due to the ominous silence that hung about her. Brenda inconspicuously ventured towards the bathroom, making deliberating movements so as not to disturb the other inhabitants of the room. A soft light still shone from the lower rooms as she passed the top of the staircase, hinting that Myra and Connie were still tidying away. As for the others-well knowing them they were probably all gathered in a circle exchanging puzzles to one another remaining completely oblivious to the time. The woman couldn't help smiling to herself as she passed the door to their room; it reminded her of similar times when Claire and Clark would drag her along to the professor's room in the middle of the night and the four of them would exchange puzzles and revision notes for exams until his mother came into the room and would shake her head and declare that how they could live their lives with just a few hours of sleep per night would be a puzzle she could never solve. Then they'd apologise and pretend to go to sleep before continuing the whole—

The woman paused abruptly as footsteps sounded from a few feet away from her. She could make out a vague shape shrouded in shadows and rubbed her eyes, wondering if she was dreaming.

"Ex…excuse me?" she called out, intrigued yet suspicious.

The figure paused and turned to look around, hesitating for a few seconds, before it eventually headed towards her in a fairly rapid manner. The creature stopped in front of her, the light reflecting off of its form as it peered straight ahead to avoid eye contact. Brenda gasped a little and squinted in order to scrutinise the figure properly. It seemed to be a human but the fact remained unclear due to the dark fabric cloak concealing its shadowy identity. Its hood was drawn around its face, revealing a pair of dark black irises and a pallid complexion being made prominent by the curtains of thick aburn hair falling underneath the hood. Strange symbols and runes were embroidered into the material as well as a scarlet stained image that seemed to resemble a bird. Through the depths of the fabric an obscure round shape glowed on her cheek, filling Brenda with a sense of horror. She didn't need two guesses to work what that symbol was.

"I seek her," it spoke in a low tone, "Know you where she is?"

"Sh…she?" the woman echoed shakily, "Do…do you mean Lily? I…I don't know where she is. Um…who are you?"

"I am Mocking Jay, the messenger," she answered emotionlessly.

Brenda glanced at the door that the strange girl had approached earlier, frowning in distrust.

"What were you doing there?" she demanded sharply, more suspicious than ever.

The girl didn't respond, averting her attention to the long roll of ripped parchment at her belt. She released it from its holder and thrust it at the stunned woman ominously.

"Know her you do. Take it into that room or give this to her, I ask of you. Tell her who it is from and that the sect awaits her presence. Go now and hurry."

"Wha…what it?" Brenda asked dubiously as she turned to the girl for an explanation.

The space where the girl had been standing just mere seconds ago was now completely devoid of any mysterious and threatening sect members. In her place was a dark, sleek feather that had fallen from the shadowy bird now soaring out of the window. Brenda shook her head in confusion as she examined the scroll in her hands. Why did the girl want her to deliver it? Plus it would've been incredibly helpful if she'd told her exactly who it was intended for, since she'd ignored her question. She mulled over the options, debating about whether to follow the instructions given or to leave it alone-if it was a member of the Sect of Darkness then the result couldn't be too good.

There was a strange sensation running through Brenda's veins as she fingered the feather at her feet, one of awe and suspicion. Cautiously, almost without thinking, she let the feather flutter to the ground and instead ventured to the door she'd seen that mysterious girl by just a few moments ago. She grimaced uncertainly for a few moments, fingers locking around the brass knob and stroking the cracked wood. Her knuckles rapped against the door, even though she suspected that it was currently unoccupied, as a peculiar lock with a rather complex structure caught her eye. Smiling mischievously to herself, Brenda bent down so that she was level with the lock and pushed her hair behind her ears as she surveyed it thoughtfully with a grin.

"A puzzle lock, in a place like this?" she whispered to herself with a light laugh, "Well…although it is most unladylike to pry into other people's rooms…Hershel would say that no puzzle is left unsolved. Now…hmm…I wonder what this means?"


Puzzle 20-Picking the lock (40 picarats)

There is a certain pattern concerning this group of numbers and when this order of numbers is looked at in a different way is actually correct. Fill in the two empty gaps with the appropriate numbers.

190, 140, 100, 70, 50, 40, 30, 10, 20, 60, 110, ?, 180, 200, 210, 230, ?

(If you're struggling here's a hint: Think about years or eras (Two eras are involved, both described in 2 letters. Get this right though and you'll have 760 picarats.)


Brenda clapped her hands triumphantly, smirking as the lock clicked and the door creaked open upon entering the numbers '150' and '260' into the keypad. It had turned out that the numbers were in fact linked to BC and AD dates since the lower a number in the BC area the later the date was. The order was add 50, 40, 30, 20, 10, 20, 30, 40, 50 and so on, but Brenda has to admit that that wasn't the first thought that had crossed her mind.

"Well that wasn't too hard and, dare I say it, it seemed it rather fun!" she exclaimed with a laugh, unable to picture the look on her husband's face if he found out that she enjoyed a criminal pastime such as picking locks.

Leaping to her feet she preceded into the room, fingers coiled tightly around the scroll as if it were a bar of gold. From somewhere deep within several white beams of light licked the walls and shone across the entrance as Brenda crept inside deliberately. Her eyes widened at the sight in front of her and her limbs began to tremble in anxiety as she wondered into the centre of the room. She coughed a few times at the unidentifiable, overwhelming aromas issuing from an unknown location in the room, shaking her head in disapproval at the countless cobwebs lining the walls and at the unnaturally large spiders making themselves at home in them.

"Emmy would adore this place," she muttered sarcastically to herself as she gently set the scroll down on a nearby table caked in dust and several coloured substances.

It was the same as the other rooms, with pale walls surrounding the interior of the space. It was there that the resemblance stopped; nowhere in the room was anything that resembled a bed or any type of decoration. A small set of drawers, a decaying coffee table and a gargantuan bench covered in an array of torn scrolls, books and cracked vials containing abnormal coloured substances were the only pieces of furniture that the room had to yield. In the centre of the room, directly below Brenda's feet, was a colossal chalk drawing of the all-too-familiar mark of the sect, endless scribbles of mystifying text and perplexing symbols graffitied on the walls. About a dozen books were splayed untidily around various corners of the room, accompanied by myriad wounds lining the furniture, walls and floorboards.

Fear and apprehension coursing through her mind, Brenda tentatively retrieved the scroll and slid it into her pocket, trying to draw her attention away from a rather disturbing image of a corpse smeared across the walls in a dye that resembled blood. She peered around the stacked piles of books, scrolls and vials littering the room, stomach churning as she drew out her notebook and blocked out the sickening aroma of fresh blood as she turned to a new page and began scrutinising every inch of the items on the desk with furrowed brows as she forced a glance at the empty doorway to check that there was no one coming.

"It'll probably be some time before the owner comes back," she told herself firmly as she hastily began scribbling into her book, "Until then I believe that this is the perfect time for a thorough investigation of this…room and its secrets…"


"That is indeed correct, Luke. Well done my boy!"

Luke smiled modestly at the professor from his current view point on the opposite bed and adjusted himself into a more comfortable position.

"Thank you, Professor!" he grinned, "That was one of the most intriguing puzzles that I've heard for a very long time!"

The room that the four currently occupied was literally identical to the room currently occupied by Emmy, Brenda and Flora, apart from a few differently shaded portraits and turquoise tinted curtains drawn tightly together to conceal the stained glass window from view. Layton had been slightly concerned about the size and aura of the rooms, not wanting any of his assistants to feel uncomfortable or to wake up terrified in the middle of the gloomy night, but due to the contented expressions of satisfaction on Luke and Clive's faces it was clear that they were more than happy with their accommodation.

"Ha ha. I'm glad that you enjoyed it, my boy. I shall ah…try equally as hard to think of a more challenging and perplexing problem for you next time."

From the other side of the room Clark propped himself up on one elbow on top of the covers, rolling his eyes at the professor with a smirk.

"Are either of you actually going to get some sleep tonight, Hershel?" he asked with a tired laugh, "Seriously, you haven't changed in the time span of a dozen years!"

Clive turned onto his side beneath the covers, failing to let sleep claim him for the time being.

"Mmph…do you mean he was like this when you were both at Gressenheller?" he asked with a weak grin, "I bet those days were fun!"

"They were…eventful to say the least," Layton replied as he shot Clark a warm smile, "You have to admit that you did enjoy them yourself, Clark, plus you went out of your league on most occasions to think up taxing teasers and riddles for others to solve. Some of your puzzles were the hardest!"

"Considering all of the adventures and investigations that you've been through I'd have thought that they were like bread and butter," his friend replied, although he couldn't help feeling slightly pleased at his friend's kind words, "You do know how to flatter someone, don't you, Hershel?"

The professor laughed quietly before focusing his attention on the door as his smile faltered gradually. Endless thoughts clouded his mind, becoming more prominent, disturbing and petrifying with every dreaded scenario that flashed in front of his aching eyes. Connie and Myra both seemed like delightful, considerate hosts but after their encounter with Lily and having heard everything about her had filled the usually calm professor with an undying sense of dread. The manor itself still possessed its foreboding yet mystical aura but there was something lurking in the darkest shadows around them, waiting for the right moment to annihilate the compassionate, sensitive, innocent girl who slept soundly just a few doors away—

"Hershel…," Clark spoke in a surprisingly gentle tone, "She'll be fine."

He tenderly placed an assuring hand on the professor's shoulder and managed a small, selfless smile; the perfect friend in the current situation.

"Emmy and Brenda are more than capable of looking after her. Besides…if anything does happen tonight…well…we'll all be by your side the whole time. This whole case seems so…peculiar and there feels as if there's something off about the entire affair-about Lily and the sect mentioned that is believed to be linked into the dealings of the Sorceress of Darkness."

The image of the skeletal, unkempt figure pulsed through Clive's brain for the fifth time in a row as he struggled to evade her undying features.

"She seems pretty creepy to me! She acts as if she's possessed!" Clive exclaimed, suddenly more alert at the intense discussion taking place around him, "What are your thoughts on her, Professor?"

Layton placed a hand to his chin thoughtfully.

"Hmm…it's just a theory at the moment…and we have yet to find proof that she really is involved somehow in the current happenings around us. All I can say for now is that we shall find out tomorrow when we investigate the sect for ourselves and hopefully find some more clues hinting to the truth behind the Sorceress of Darkness and Seryna's fate…"


Mystery 9- The shadowed sect

Madam Myra's daughter, Lily, has claimed to be involved in the dealings of the Sect of Darkness, whose leader is rumoured to be the Sorceress of Darkness. According to Myra the sect was responsible for Lily's current 'possessed' state and for the disappearance of Myra's father. They are also claimed to be bloodthirsty and possess intense powers. Could they have had anything to do with the fate of Seryna and what other dark secrets does this sect have to hide?


"Say, Professor? I've been wondering, what was on that piece of paper Inspector Chelmey gave to us at the 'Crummeatrice Inn'?" Luke asked abruptly in interest, "You know, the one he said that he found in Bruno's possession?"

The professor thought for a moment before nodding.

"Ah yes, I was also wondering about that," he answered, fumbling through his pockets, "Thank you for reminding me, my boy."

He drew out the crumpled piece of paper from his right pocket and held it up to the fading light, scrutinising the miniscule text on it thoroughly. Clive shuffled off of the bed and plonked himself down next to Luke as he squinted at the page with folded arms.

"Hmph…I still can't believe that he was behind the whole Death Dogs scheme-and he was trying to keep me hidden in that tower of his!" Clive huffed, trying to hide the shudders running through him as he recalled his isolated ordeal.

Luke patted his friend's shoulder sympathetically, trying to get a good look at the clipping also.

"What does it say, Professor?" he asked curiously.

The professor smiled a little and handed the clipping to the two boys, gesturing to the image of three men each shaking hands, all of them extraordinarily familiar. There was no mistaking the light shades in the first man's hair or the lanky stature of the other. Both wearing some type of black leather work suit, they were accompanied by another man about their age. Luke recognised the main facial features instantly but was completely taken aback with the dark straightened strands of hair smoothed back over his head in a neatened fashion. He wore a navy cap and a proud smile as he shook hands with the other two men. Minus the now grey hair, the arched spine and the rather elongated beard, the man was still very easy to identify. The boy couldn't help but stifle a laugh as he pointed at the man.

"Um…is that Bruno?!" he exclaimed in disbelief, grinning the whole time, "Ha ha ha! Who knew the old caretaker was so much different back in those days! I almost didn't recognise him!"

Clive pointed at the other two men with a smirk.

"Then…that's Jacob and Dominic isn't it? Neither of them appears to have changed a bit…from the vague pieces of information that I can remember about them. Hmm…why did Bruno have this on him?"

"Hmm…in answer to your question, Clive, this seems to be a newspaper article dated a few decades ago. I believe it must mean quite a lot to Bruno-he said himself that he and those two gentlemen were good friends."

"It says here that the three of them worked on some scientific project together…to do with mechanical construction," Clark read out in a clear voice, "Apparently they won a rare prize for their work-and at the bottom is an interview that the reporters had with them."

Luke's eyes scanned the bottom of the page, one of the lines instantly causing him to smirk.

"Ha ha! According to this section Jacob says that after every successful project completed he has about a dozen bowls of his favourite strawberry ice cream! I wish we could celebrate like that whenever we solve a case! That would be awesome!"

"Yes-and it would be even more fun when your teeth started dropping out from all of that sugar," Clark added with a shake of the head, "I don't think that there is anything in the world that could break your craving for sweet things, is there, Luke?"

"That's right, Dad!" the teenager exclaimed with satisfaction, "Dominic said that it was Bruno who influenced them in their talents!"

"Plus Bruno stated in several other interviews that they've had that Mr Stately and Mr Spencer are probably his two closest friends," Clive finished with a smile, "That's one loyal friendship…I guess Mr Spencer and Mr Stately must be feeling really gutted with everything that's happened…being betrayed by Bruno and whatnot…"

"Hmm…," Layton mused to himself as he peered at the article again from his current viewpoint, "I wonder…"

Luke's head shot up excitedly upon hearing the professor distinctly talking to himself.

"What are you thinking, Professor? Does your famous intuition believe that there's something wrong again?"

Layton was brought back into reality as he took a final look at the clipping before folding it neatly and gently replacing it into his pockets. He sighed and turned to the two boys in response.

"It's just a theory, my boy. We'll need to gather more answers tomorrow from our search. I just hope that we don't hit any more dead ends or red herrings…this case is truly baffling…"

Luke yawned and burrowed himself under the covers of his bed as he hugged the pillow to his chest tightly, an ideal substitute for his favourite stuffed animal (which happened to be a chestnut furry bear with a protrusive scarlet bow donning its neck that Brenda had gotten him for his thirteenth birthday). Clive trudged back to his bed and flopped down on it, yawning widely as his eye lids gradually closed.

"Good…night...all…," he mumbled into the pillow before being eventually claimed by peaceful, soothing dreams.

The professor smiled warmly and perched himself on the edge of Clark's bed as the man made a gesture to the lightshade suspended by a thin cord above them.

"Would it be more comforting to keep the lights on for the night?" he asked, eyeing the slightly wary look on his son's face, "It may ease our worries too, Hershel...given everything that has occurred recently."

The professor nodded in reply, appearing slightly grateful even though he knew that he could easily cope without.

"A fine suggestion, Clark-I believe it will be quite helpful tonight and…perhaps it can calm my fears about Flora..."

He coughed quietly before a beaming smile lit up his weary face.

"You statement has just reminded me of a famous puzzle that I heard once. Would you care to give it a go, as the last puzzle before we go to sleep?"

Clark rolled his eyes but chuckled quietly, unable to resist the seductive call of one of his best friend's puzzles.

"Very well, old bean, since you're so persistent," he replied heartily as Luke rolled over to listen to the riddle, "No doubt it will be a hard one…"


Puzzle 21- Murderer? (30 picarats)

One elderly, harmless man is being thought of as a murderer. Although he wouldn't hurt a fly people are still insinuating that he caused the death of several people. The man in question claims that he turned out the light before he went to bed and when he woke up in the morning he found that he'd killed dozens of innocent people. How did those people die?

(Get this right and you'll have 790 picarats)


Clark thought for a few moments as he pondered over the answer, before he eventually managed a triumphant grin and thrust his finger outwards..

"Aha! I think I see the logic behind this one!" he announced assertively, "Could it be that the man was a lighthouse keeper and by turning out the light the ship of passengers couldn't see where they were going and so drowned in the sea?"

The professor smiled at his friend and nodded.

"I knew that wouldn't phase you, Clark. That is indeed correct. Well done!" he congratulated as he rubbed his eyes wearily, "On that note I believe it is time for us to go to sleep now-the boys have already drifted off…"

Clark nodded as he stood up and smoothed out the covers. The professor followed suit, unable to evade the thoughts that still swam through his mind.

"I wonder how the others are faring?" he thought aloud with a sigh, "I do hope that they're alright."

"I'm sure that they're fine, Hershel. Anyone would be stupid not to hire Emmy as a bodyguard-I swear that woman's at least a dozen times stronger than nails!" Clark emphasised with a light laugh as he peered reassuringly at his friend, "They're probably sleeping already and I doubt that they'll wonder off anywhere…well…I hope you sleep well Hershel…"

The professor merely nodded. As the darkness consumed his fatigued eyes Layton desperately hoped that his friend's considerate reassurances were true…


"Oh my…"

Brenda jerked her head away from the disconcerting sight in front of her, placing a hand to her now pallid cheeks. Her breathing was gradually becoming shallower and other parts of her skin had taken on a repellent green tinge as she forced her heavy meal to stay down.

"What on earth…is the person in here involved with?!" she whispered shakily to herself as she stared down at the small ragged figure resting in her trembling palm.

It was made out of fairly smooth material, fashioned into the shape of a miniature mannequin, clothed in a torn, rose gown covered in countless rips and splattered with impervious scarlet stains. Brown string was assumed to be hair and fell in loose strands down its face. Two gaping black holes stared back at her where eyes should've been, the same coloured dye streaming from its eyelids. Directly next to the figure was a cruel, curved blade soaked in a repugnant substance that almost made Brenda retch. The tremors in her nerves increased and she flung the nauseating thing to the farthest corner of the room, clearing her mind enough to scribble a few draft notes on the frightening object. Most eerily of all, the doll was made to resemble someone whom the woman instantly recognised.

"My…imagination must be overpowering me…," she murmured to herself in a trembling voice as she turned her attention to a rather large book on the shelf next to her.

She'd been searching the room for about ten minutes but there was nothing that seemed to be of aid to them in their investigation; only things that struck terror deep into the woman's soul and seemed to implant it there permanently. Hesitantly, she examined the cover of the book, bound in worn brown leather and secured with a violet curled ribbon. Incised in fancy lettering on the front cover was a title that Brenda could just distinguish as she squinted at the words.

'Connie's diary'

Letting out a hitched sigh of relief Brenda carefully opened the book and began flicking through random pages. Her eyebrows furrowed and she frowned in uncertainty as she skimmed through the book: the first dozen pages had lucidly been torn and shredded from the book, leaving only a few worthless scraps of paper still clinging to the bind. The other pages that remained were smothered in countless symbols and incomprehensible words, all written in a scarlet ink.

"Couldn't this person have used any other colour to write with?" she gulped as she quickly slammed the book shut and averted her attention to a tiny glass frame perched near it.

Inside was a picture of two young girls, seemingly similar to each other, holding hands and playing together, donned in long capes and waving crooked sticks around like mystical wands. The woman smiled at the adorable photograph, the figures' bond of friendship identifiable to anyone witnessing the heart-warming sight.

"I wonder if that's—"

She was cut off as a loud chiming noise from outside of the room indicated that midnight had arrived. Brenda listened to the chiming for a moment, trying to distract her mind, frowning a little once they'd ended.

"Hmm…where could the owner of this room be? They should've came back by now…and what could've been on that scroll I was meant to deliver?"

Taking a final look at the picture in her hands, Brenda sighed and ran her hand along the scroll.

"Well…I guess there's no point in waiting around any longer…whoever it is would most likely not be too happy to see me snooping around…I'd…I'd better go…Emmy and Flora will be wondering whether I really did fall in the sink!"

Although she tried to ignore it a nagging feeling of doubt gnawed at her insides; something wasn't quite right about the course that events had taken. Her mind flashed back to the moment that she'd met that strange girl, about the room that she'd told her to go in. She was absolutely positive that there'd been no other door on the left hand side of it from her perspective and that—

Brenda froze, choking on the ice forming in her throat as she desperately hoped that she'd made some mistake with her calculations. Heart pounding a locomotive of adrenaline through her veins she instantly let the frame fall from her fingers to collide with the hard surface of the desk in a broken mess of glass shards and spun around to dash sharply for the exit, almost collapsing in terror at the sight that greeted her.

"You...shouldn't be here…"

She had entered the leftmost room-she'd walked straight into a trap.

"I…I…I'm terribly sorry!" Brenda gasped in horror, knowing her apologies would fall on deaf ears, "I…I…I…I got lost and didn't know where I was. Someone…t…told me to come in here and…give a message to you…I…I in no way intended to intrude. If…if you want me to go then I'll do so…I…really am sorry…"

Lily simply stood near the doorway, observing her prey's movements like a hawk, unresponsive apart from the inauspicious aura surrounding her. Brenda shakily made a gesture to the door and seizing her chance flung herself at it in a rapid sprint. The door slammed shut before she was even a metre near it, the clicking of the lock separating freedom from definite danger ringing like a Death's agonising rattle in her mind. Trepidation throttling her, she watched helplessly as Lily's piercing, glowing eyes illuminated the devilish snarl on her face as the fiery beams from her eyes rested on Brenda. The woman began frantically tugging at the lock even though she knew it was a futile effort and it was clearly locked with some kind of enchantment. Lily continued taking slow, foreboding steps towards her, an inhuman growl issuing from deep inside of her body as she spoke.

"You…are going nowhere…," she snarled venomously, now centimetres away from the squirming woman, "You have seen too much…and it is her wish that all who interfere with the dealings and affairs of the sect should be disposed of. She would be…most displeased if I let you leave…alive…"


The man flung himself viciously from his currently restful sleep, panting heavily with perspiration steadily forming on his forehead. Wrenching his head in every direction in existence Clark threw the covers aside effortlessly and stared straight at the door, terror forming on his face. His alarming awakening had also succeeded to rouse Luke and Clive, who instantly bolted forwards in their beds and formed a weak and trembling defensive position around themselves. The professor sat up sharply and peered thoughtfully at the door with eyes that sparked with life, although he had only managed to get a short amount of sleep.

"Clark? Are you alright?" he asked, immensely startled and concerned.

His friend responded with a meagre gesture to the door.

"I'm…I'm…sure I heard something…it sounded like…a…sc…scream…"

"I'm sorry, Clark…are you sure you weren't dreaming?" he asked, blinking rapidly.

"I'm sure I heard something! I'm not mistak—"

"AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEEEEEEEE!"

The professor leapt off of the bed and sprang for the door, swiftly followed by a rapidly energised Clark, clinging tightly to his son's quivering hand. Clive shot after them, having never felt more awake during the last two days. They made the journey down the seemingly perpetual corridor at an unnaturally quick pace, frantically scanning every inch of the space surrounding them in the hopes to locate he source of the brain rattling scream. Luke followed as best as he could, half running half being dragged by his inexorable father.

"Who was that, Professor?! Where was it coming from?! Who was it?!" the boy panted in a pleading voice, trying to tug at his mentor's sleeve.

"I have no idea, Luke, but whatever is happening must be stopped before the worst happens!"

With no way to dissuade his determined actions the group continued in hot pursuit as the howling screams stabbed at their minds again continuously like an excruciating knife. Rounding past the staircase the four almost collided head on with three other tearing figures, their faces reflecting immense bewilderment, trepidation and apprehension as they peered desperately ahead of them with a short lived hopeful expression. Abruptly forcing to a stop, the professor let out a gasp of respite as he picked out the wide eyed forms of Emmy and Flora in the dying light, faces creased with concern that immediately vanished at the welcoming sight of the four.

"Professor! Clark! Luke! Clive! Thank goodness you're safe!" Emmy gasped, placing a hand to her racing heart, "We thought that was one of you back then! We were worried sick!"

Layton tried to smile to calm their distress.

"It's quite alright, Emmy. We believed the same for you too," he explained slowly as the others current expressions of horror gradually eased.

Accompanying Emmy and Flora was Connie, for some unknown reason. Her eyebrows were curved downwards in anxiety, her nails digging into her flesh and her eyes flicking from each member of the group.

"I heard the scream and came running-who was it?!" she demanded, fear edging into her tone.

"We…don't know yet…but…are we missing someone?"

Apprehension returning to him, Layton began quickly counting the people present, pupils diluting in alarm upon only counting seven out of eight people. Upon feeling the tight, trembling hand of his apprentice gripping his own like a vice did he realise who was missing…

"Pro…Professor…," Luke faltered, feeling himself trapped in a despicable nightmare, "Where's…where's…"

"Brenda...," Clark finished, face paling as the realisation hit him.

Spinning around desperately, shaking ferociously on the spot, Clark stared horrified around him and felt his whole body go limp.

"BRENDA!"

The group was met by another ear-splitting screech, this time sounding more distant and in more agony than previously.

"MUM!"

Clark immediately returned to his senses and tore down the corridor at an inhuman speed, shoving aside anything that separated him from his destination, oblivious to the others' pleading yells following him. Spurred by his friend's action the professor instantaneously followed, clutching hold of Luke's hand tightly. Emmy helped support Flora as Clive ran alongside Connie, focused only on locating the source of Brenda's all-too-familiar scream.

"What happened?! Where did she go—"

"The…the last time we saw her she was heading to the bathroom…we…we waited for her to return but she didn't come b…back…," Emmy wheezed, remarkably finding it a challenge even for herself to keep up with the others at that current time, "We…were worried and told Connie…that's when we heard…that…"

Emmy trailed off, trying to comfort an exhausted Flora, heart pounding against her chest.

"It's because of me, isn't it?!" she gasped, guilt consuming her, "I'm endangering everyone here! What if that's someone from the Sect of—"

"Don't be ridiculous, Flora!" the professor shouted in response, "You are not to blame at all! All we can do is find Brenda before any harm comes to her!"

"What…what could be happening to her?!" Luke cried, fresh tears running down his drained face, "What is she—"

"IT'S HERE! IT'S COMING FROM BEHIND HERE!"

Panting with immense relief, Luke ran to his father's side and began hammering on the door frantically. Clark began tugging on the door's handle so turbulently it looked as though it might snap off upon contact with his suddenly powerful strength. Flora clung to Emmy's sleeve the whole time, swaying unsteadily in her boots as if she might faint. Clive ran forward with the professor to help open the door before halting in confusion at the almost disregarded lock lying deactivated at their feet. The professor picked it up and studied it thoroughly, feeling rather uneasy as the number panels stared back at him coldly.

"This…is a puzzle lock if I'm not mistaken…," he told the group, too worried to be intrigued by its unique mechanism, "There was a puzzle lock on this specific door…that has clearly been deactivated…"

Luke peered at the lock with wide eyes, his tears glistening in the light.

"Do…do you think Mum solved it to get into that r…room?" he asked quietly as he watched his father slam his fists against the wood in sheer frustration and impatience.

"I don't understand, Hershel!" he rasped, lowering his voice slightly so that Flora and Luke didn't appear so scared, "If that bloody lock has been deactivated then how come the door won't open?!"

"It's…as if it's l…ocked on the inside…," Luke sniffed as he stared beseechingly at the professor, "There's no other entrance into the room…"

Clive squinted at the door, eyes broadening as he shook his head roughly in the hopes that he was imagining things. No matter how hard he tried to ignore the fact the evidence was just a few metres away from them.

"Um…was it the rightmost door that we weren't allowed to go near?" he asked hopefully although the tremors in his voice gave away his fear and that he already knew the answer.

"N…no," Connie answered, startled as she began scratching her cheek with her painted nails, "It was the leftmost r—"

The girl's demeanour instantly changed, an invisible personality switch having been pressed at that precise moment; her hands balled into tight fists as she flung herself at Luke and Clark, dragging them away from the door with every ounce of her strength. The pair put up an admirable struggle against her but only resulted in making them more fatigued than ever. The boy kicked the girl fiercely on the shin in his desperation to reach his mother. Although Clark's physical state appeared to have weakened greatly his voice had greatly increased in volume and tone as he continued his feeble efforts to resist the unbelievably potent teenager.

"LET GO OF ME! I HAVE TO GET TO HER!"

"YOU SHALL DO NO SUCH THING!" Connie yelled back, her mouth warping into a cruel snarl as her eyebrows formed perfectly straight lines downwards, "THERE'S NOTHING YOU CAN DO!"

"SHE'S…SHE'S MY MUM!" Luke bawled even louder as Emmy gripped Flora's hand even tighter, "WE CAN'T JUST LEAVE HER TO DIE!"

"YOU WERE WARNED!" Connie screeched in fury, not even bothering to hide her disappointment and anger, "YOU WERE TOLD NOT TO GO IN THERE AND OUR PLEAS WERE IGNORED! SHE CHOSE TO DO SO! SHE PUT HERSELF AT RISK DESPITE THE WARNINGS WE GAVE! IT EVEN HAD A PUZZLE LOCK ON TO STOP ANYONE GOING INSIDE! WE TRIED TO PREVENT ANOTHER DEATH FROM OCCURRING AND LILY COULD DO HARM TO ANY OF US IF—"

"Lily?!" Clark gasped with revulsion as his throat tightened, "My wife is locked in that room, enduring torturous agony with that…that…MONSTER?!"

"Clark! Connie! Please calm down!" the professor ordered in a raised voice, "Neither of us know why Brenda went into that room, but it was rather indecorous of her indeed. There is still time and we could save her if we just think clearly—"

"I can't see any other entrances into the room, Professor!" Clive called in a distressed tone, "How can we get in?!"

"There has to be some way!" Flora squealed, frantically searching everywhere around her as if a convenient secret passageway would appear before their eyes.

Clark put up a renewed vigorous attempt to evade Connie's grasp and wrenched himself free from her when she was most distracted. Luke followed suit and immediately ran straight to the comforting form of the professor, breathing heavily. Connie's was obviously still immensely livid, too incensed to even bother recapturing the two, but she was trying her best to keep her emotions bottled inside of her for the time being. The man charged straight for the door, determination glinting in his eyes as his muscles flexed readily.

"Then there's only one thing to do…," he spoke quietly as he glared at the door.

Emmy immediately caught on to his actions and readied herself in a similar position, almost tempted to ignore the professor's frantic voice as the screams resurfaced around them.

"Clark! Emmy! Please think rationally! Breaking down the door hardly seems like the most sensible option! There has to be another way in!"

Clark whirled around to face the professor, tears forming in the corner of his eyes, teeth gritted tightly together as he pointed sharply to the door.

"Hershel…she's my wife...she and Luke are my sole reason for living…I…can't lose her, Hershel…," he spoke in a suddenly aged and gravely tone, "She could be dying, Hershel-she could already be dead! The more we deliberate on reasonable actions the more Brenda is suffering..."

He shook his head fiercely, his eyes blazing with resolve as his voice suddenly become sharper.

"Another second spent wasting time on trying to find a way in reasonably could cost Brenda her life! I am certainly not prepared to take that risk whilst I draw breath!"

The professor stared hard at his friend, stunned at his sudden confidence and fortitude to dive headfirst recklessly into a scenario fraught with danger, but he simply nodded and stepped aside, knowing that nothing anyone could say would change the man's mind. The blazing look in his eyes, the way his fists were clenched in anticipation, the desperateness in his voice as he spoke- he was currently indestructible and nothing would ever break him in this situation-and he was correct.

"V…very well," he spoke sincerely, wrapping a comforting arm around his daughter and his apprentice before turning to the bewildered and slightly guilty expression on Connie's face, "Do you have any objections, Connie?"

The girl swallowed and gingerly shook her head, sighing and averting her gaze to the floor.

"It's…it's suicidal but…go ahead," she faltered warily, "I…I don't care if you have to smash every door in the manor-just get her out of there in one piece!"

"Believe me…we shall," Emmy added encouragingly as she peered at Clark, "Ready?"

"Whenever you are," he replied simply with a firm nod of the head.

Simultaneously, the two adults threw an indestructible, rapid kick at the barrier blocking them.

CRASH!

The group had shot inside the room before the door even collided with the floor, panting breathlessly with panic rising swiftly inside of them. Clark, Emmy and Clive threw aside anything obstructing their path as they sprinted ahead of the group, swiftly followed by the professor, dragging the two quivering teenagers behind him. Connie brought up the rear, nibbling frantically on her nails and chewing her lip so violently that it immediately began to bleed. Murmuring quietly under her breath as her face gradually become whiter she jolted in shock upon catching the shadows reflected on the walls. Tremoring with terror the group hesitantly turned around, completely unprepared for the grisly, nauseating sight that met them. In that single instant everything about the room ceased to exist; the chaotic, shambolic state of it as various pieces of furniture lay lifeless and irreparable in a crumpled heap. The eerie, ominous glow of the green light billowing across the walls in all directions possible. Even the terrorising, bloodthirsty demon standing comfortably in the corner, a sneer playing on her scarlet lips as an array of cackles and jeers escaped from her throat, eyes blazing like dying supernovas. Emmy let out a choked gasp of horror, barely managing to perform a weak gesture to the others before pointing directly to the wall in front of them. That's when they finally saw her.

"No! Brenda!" the professor yelled, eyes flaring in sickened horror as his stomach churned, unable to maintain his usual calm and collected manner.

Instinctively he clung to Luke even tighter, watching as he and Clark simply stared in an indescribable expression of sheer horror as though trapped in the midst of a macabre novel. Mouths gaping open, tears threatening to spill, unresponsive, uncommunicative and speechless in that single moment. Flora shrieked and buried her head in the professor's coat as Clive gasped and took several steps backwards frightfully, not wishing to witness anything else. Connie retched and clutched her throat, paler than marble as an almost inaudible gasp succeeded to evade her lips.

The mess that remained of what used to be the woman whom they all loved with her considerate nature consisted of a living skeleton, being protected only by the thin layer of flesh that still covered it, being only just identifiable. Suspended from several invisible noses of energy, unable to move more than a millimetre of her own will, her body was wrenched in several directions, performing an excruciating dance of disconcerting, distorted movements. Her drained complexion shimmered like diamonds in the light surrounding her, reflecting the agonised expressions of torture on her face, mouth trapped in a silent, continuous scream. Her eyes were firmly closed in painful sleep and her back had been forced backwards by the immense forces controlling her. She was shuddering violently every few seconds, appearing to become more and more emaciated with every second that passed. Her limbs gradually began to wither as some ravenous invisible creature devoured her flesh. The wretched creature could've easily been mistaken for a skeleton had they not noticed the surviving olive tint of her now languid hair or her violet embroidered blouse, which was completely smothered in cuts and rips that looked as though they'd been made by rapier claws.

The group could only gawp in horror, threatening to regurgitate at any moment. Clark inhaled and exhaled at completely irregular intervals, unable to stare at anything but the skeletal form of his wife suffering in front of his glistening eyes.

"Br…Br…Brenda…please…be alive…"

Upon hearing her name the scrawny creature wrenched open her aching eyelids with an exceedingly tormenting, strenuous effort and peered pleadingly back at them. An icy chill instantly ran down their spines and their breathing froze abruptly; Brenda's once compassionate, benevolent and caring eyes were no longer existent. The black voids of emptiness that stared eerily back at them belonged to those of a dying being…