Gravity Falls and its characters were created by Alex Hirsch and owned by Disney. Belle Sterling is an original character owned by MaryPSue. All credit goes to their respective creators.
"Hey Orrie? Are you okay now?" Belle gently rubbed small circles on the boy's back. The three were in the twins' room, Pierce, and none of them had tried to leave after Flynn and the two siblings guided Orrie inside.
It was clear Orrie was in shock, but how much so Flynn couldn't say. At least the boy had started responding, if only mutely, after they'd left the foyer. "Orrie, can you understand me?" Flynn asked softly. He'd gotten a slow nod of the head. "I need you to stay here. Do not leave this room. Do not open the door for any of the staff. Do you understand?" Another wordless nod. Flynn stood, leaving him to sit quietly on the bed.
"The same goes for you two," he said to the twins. When Dipper looked ready to argue, the elf held up a hand for him to be quiet. "This is not a game, young man. Acting imprudently will only get you killed. You and your sister will stay in this room until I determine the rest of the upstairs area safe to reside in."
"Checking if it's safe outside isn't our priority," Dipper retorted, "As long as the killer's loose, nowhere is safe, and you know that. Besides, it was you who said we needed to play their game to survive."
"We do, but I'm leaving that as a last resort for you children. You need to keep yourselves hidden, and you must run if someone manages to get in. I'm going to track down the people behind this, and I'm betting finding their clues will lead me straight to them." He headed for the door. "For everyone's sakes, I will find them. And I will get you back safe and sound to your families."
That had been over twenty minutes ago, and since then the only movement done was to sit beside Orrie to try and calm him or to restlessly pace around in circles. "Flynn has no idea what he's up against," Dipper said.
"We have no idea what we're up against," his sister countered; he only shot her a look. Belle let out an exasperated sigh, rolling her eyes. "You know what I mean– what the 99%-we're-sure-are-cultists want from us. If they're trying to summon a demon, why trap us specifically? And why let us continue solving the mystery? Face it, bro, nothing about this makes much sense."
"So you want me to—?"
"I don't know—maybe? Yes? We both have good points, so…" She trailed off, staring around the room as if hoping one of the inanimate furniture could express her thoughts instead.
"You're not thinking of doing something stupid, are you?" Both twins looked at the boy who'd finally spoken. He sniffled, clearly fighting hard to keep tears and snot from leaking down his face. "You're not going to do something that'll likely get you killed…are you?" Though his words were thick, he was afraid. Afraid and helpless and scared of what Dipper and Belle were planning. "I don't wa-want you to get hurt too. Not like that." His sobs grew quicker, the tears now falling. "Not like—not like that. Not like—" He cried. A tiny part of him derided he was acting like a wimp and crying like a baby in front of two strangers he hardly knew. But he ignored it. So what if they thought he was a baby? So what if they mocked him for it later? "W-why?" was all he could choke out between sobs. A single word that somehow seemed to encompass the infinite number of questions he feared to ask.
No one said anything for a while. Then Dipper walked over and sat on the other side of him, and both twins leaned over and hugged him. "Don't stop," he whispered, joining Belle in rubbing his back. "Not until it's all out. This isn't easy for any of us." He glanced to the side when he heard his sister sniffle, but he didn't comment. His look was a tired one, empathetic. Much too old and knowing to be on a face as young as his, Orrie vaguely thought in that distant, half-aware sort of way.
When the tears ran dry minutes later and the sobs grew quieter and less frequent, Orrie rubbed his arm over his eyes, wiping them clean. "Sorry," he murmured. He could feel Belle doing the same, using the heel of her hand to dab out the tears that had gathered.
"You know," she let out an empty chuckle, "It's easy to forget we're just a bunch of kids."
"I'm not—" Dipper started heatedly before finishing with an annoyed huff, "—going to dignify that with a response."
"You're more mature than I gave you credit for," Belle continued as if uninterrupted. "You kept it together for this long, through shock and everything. Only an idiot would be trying to act all tough after seeing something as horrible as that." When Orrie didn't say anything she patted his shoulder. "Hey, you know what they say about crying?" He looked up at her, shaking his head. "It doesn't mean that you're weak."
Orrie balled his hands, clenching his pant leg. "…I didn't cry for Dug," he muttered. He shuddered, a new realization coming over him. "I didn't cry for Ms. Wheatly either." No longer blinding himself with denial, there was no way anyone could convince him those were special effects they'd seen last night. And now he only felt cold and empty, guilty he thought nothing more of their deaths. How readily he wrote them off.
"That doesn't make you a bad person," Belle whispered. Orrie nodded quietly.
"She's right," Dipper spoke up, garnering their attentions and clearly wanting to change topics, "But now we have to figure out what you want to do next."
"M-me?" Orrie blinked, looking up at him, "Don't you mean 'us'?"
"We already have a plan," was Dipper's blunt response, "Well, two, but we're trying Belle's first. The question is how much you want to be involved in it. Look, you don't have to if you don't want, and we're not going to force you to do anything or make you stay in your room. But there's something going on here that's more than just this stupid mystery, and we need to stop it before it happens."
Why did they seem to have a better understanding of what was going on? How could they concoct two separate plans in such a short span of time? Orrie began to wonder how much he could actually trust them.
He let his eyes fall. "But what can we do?" he asked dully. "Belle said herself we're all just kids, kids against a killer out for…blood? Sacrifices? Who knows. They've already killed three people since last night, and they almost—" He swallowed back those words; no need to focus on that right now. "I'm scared, you guys. I don't want to die. I just want to go home." He took a forced breath. "But that's not going to happen the way I see it. Do nothing and the killer will kill me. Do what he wants and the killer will kill me. This plan of yours might draw his attention, make him angry for trying to stop him. But if there's even a small chance it'll work and we all make it out alive, I'm all in for helping you."
The twins smiled. "Thanks, Orrie!" Belle said, hugging him with one arm. "And don't you worry. We'll definitely be making it out of here. We have Dipper." She said it like that proved everything. "Okay, so now that you're in, it's only fair we tell you what we need to do. Remember what that phony 'Alcor' guy said about the mansion having wards and junk to capture the real Alcor?" Orrie nodded. "Turns out he's right about that. There's some strong magic that blocks any spell I try to use, and bro can barely use his."
Orrie starred between the two. "Don't tell me– you're going to try and find the master rune?"
"If we destroy that then we'll remove the mansion's entire spellwork, or at the very least chunk a large enough hole in it so I can use my abilities again."
"So you guys can seriously use magic? Seriously!?"
"Something of the sort."
That response couldn't have been any more vague, but Orrie didn't care. The Sterlings could apparently use magic, and more than just the average spells most people knew, it seemed. Even if they weren't sorcerers it was still rare to find a human that proficient in magic, let alone two; one was much more likely to stumble upon someone with the Sight.
Orrie was feeling those embers of hope slowly rekindle.
"Do you have any ideas where it might be?"
"We're thinking it's in a hidden room either below or above the manor," Dipper answered, getting to his feet. "Normally it'd be embedded in the foundation along with the other wards, but that would be problematic if the cultists ever needed to make adjustments to it. Hiding it away in a room where, say, the police don't stumble upon it would be the next best course." He resumed his pacing. "The biggest question now is where we should start looking for it. The cultists behind the killings are almost definitely keeping a watch on us whenever they can, so spending too much time in a single location while not looking for clues will make them suspicious. And splitting up is also a bad idea." Dipper didn't elaborate on that one, but he did send a nearly subtle glance toward Orrie, subtle enough that his sister missed it.
The younger boy barely held the shiver wanting to shoot down his spine. Did Dipper somehow know about the incident in the greenhouse? No, that was impossible; no one could see the greenhouse from any of the manor's windows. Not saying anything, he instead procured his sketchbook. As much as he wanted to update the map, he told himself to wait until he was out of sight from the twins. The last thing now was to confirm Dipper's suspicions. "Right. So which to look for first: a basement or attic?"
"We could try searching this wing for the basement," Belle said, pointing to the downstairs area. "We haven't been down there yet." Orrie again stayed quiet, knowing full well the entrance to a basement wouldn't likely be in the wing he escaped to from the underground tunnel.
His gaze shifted up when he heard Dipper approach. There was a light frown on his face as he scanned the map for a few seconds. "Something doesn't add up," he muttered. "There's only one set of stairs here."
"Yeah, the main stairway," Orrie said. Then he and Belle paused.
"But isn't this a three-story building?" Belle slowly asked. Dipper nodded. "Then to the attic we go." She marched to the door. "I'm sure the three of us can find—" Both Dipper and Orrie crashed into her when she stopped suddenly in her tracks.
Peering past her they spotted Siegfried down the hall, standing up from some sort of crouch. He dusted himself off, looking up and spotting them staring before Belle could close the door. "What are you three up to?"
Orrie took a tiny step back as Belle answered with an innocent "Nothing." The narrowing of Siegfried's eyes told her that was the wrong answer to give. "Er, rather we were about to head out to find better reception. Turns out the phones still don't work even in our rooms."
"Yeah. Flynn told us to stay put up here, but we wanted to help him out," Dipper spoke up. To this Siegfried crossed his arms and smiled smugly.
"Well, you children certainly can help by keeping yourselves secured in your rooms and out of the way. Don't you fret– I've just about solved this mystery, and I'll get you all out safe and sound once I do."
"So you've found a hint?" The man leered at Dipper.
"Perhaps. What does it matter to you?"
"Only curious. We've stopped looking for them. More interested in calling the police since, you know, there's a murderer out to get us."
"They won't be once I've solved their final puzzle. So you three better sit tight until then."
"Question," Belle frowned, "Won't the murderer kill you even if you do solve the mystery?"
"Not 'if', 'when'," Siegfried corrected her, "And if they try to pull an underhanded stunt like that, I've got a nasty little surprise for them in turn." Orrie had the unnerving suspicion Siegfried was referring to some sort of weapon, which their contracts expressively forbade them from bringing. Seriously, how far was this man willing to go for the money?
"Then best of luck to you," Belle said. She waved before quickly shutting the door. "Whew!" she sighed in relief. Then she looked toward her brother. "The hint is totally in his left coat pocket; saw him stuff it in there."
"And the weapon's in his right boot. Did you notice how much bulkier the heel was? Is either a knife or a small pistol." Orrie stared in awe at them.
"Wow, you guys are, like, real-life Montana Martinezes. I didn't even think to look." Both twins grinned at the compliment. "But Belle, you raised a good point back then. What if the killers do finally show themselves once the mystery's solved? Do you think, if that happens—" he couldn't believe he was about to suggest it "—we would be able to stop them there and then?"
Orrie was surprised even further when the two actually seemed to consider the idea. Belle looked contemplatively at Dipper. "Well, bro? Once we get rid of the master rune, would that be enough for us to stop them?"
"Definitely," nodded Dipper, "Even if there's a whole cult of killers involved. So after we remove the master rune, all that's left is solving the mystery to lure them out. We'll get them then."
"Your magic will be enough, right?" Orrie wondered, worry creeping in his voice, "I can't use any at all, and what if there is a whole cult involved?"
"Trust me, I'll have more than enough." Orrie smiled with reassurance. So they waited for several minutes in the room.
Eventually, Belle wondered, "Do you think he's gone?" Dipper strode over and poked his head out the door.
"It's clear," he called back, leading the way outside. The two followed. Orrie took out his map as they walked down the east wing, ready to begin their search.
"Okay, accuracy of the scale aside, there aren't many places a hidden stairway can be up here," he said to them. He looked ahead toward the very short west wing that was nothing more than a well-decorated nook containing several small sofas, large portraits, and two tables with lamps.
"In the movies it'd likely be somewhere over there," said Dipper as he eyed several of the furniture.
Belle folded her arms. "But this isn't a movie, and that'd be too obvious. If by some chance someone did learn of a hidden staircase up here, of course the cultists would want them searching as far away from the real location as possible."
"So it's more than likely in the east wing," agreed Orrie, turning around. He could sense the twins looking over at him.
"Do you have any ideas?" Dipper asked. The other didn't say anything for a while.
"I think so. My drawing doesn't have everything to scale, but my memory does. If the bedrooms are constructed the way I think they are…" He hurried to the last room on the right: Kohl. He peered inside the empty room, looking around for only a couple seconds to find what he needed. "Thought so." He stepped back, quietly shutting the door as he did. "All our rooms look to be identical except for one thing– the location of the washroom and closet." He laid the sketchbook down and took out a pencil. The Sterlings crouched low to watch him draw. "I got a look inside Flynn and the Lionharts' rooms earlier today, and all their washrooms and closets are in the back to the left side of the room. Same goes for yours and Dug's." He added in the new details to the map.
Dipper's eyes widened. "But yours is in the back to the right."
Orrie grinned. "That's right. Though they're not too big, the washrooms still need a lot of piping. And there wouldn't be a lot of room for both that and a stairway except for here." He pointed to the space of empty wall between his room and Siegfried's. "Taking into account the size of the rooms, there should be just enough space for a narrow flight of stairs precisely…" He led the two back to the area, taking one slow, measured step after another. "…here." By all means there seemed nothing different about this spot, but Belle took a step closer, feeling the wallpaper.
"Feels just as solid as the rest," she informed them, letting her hand slide all around. It was when it was somewhere around her waist level she let out a surprised "Oh!"
"What is it?" her brother asked, stepping next to her.
"There's something here, sorta smooth." She rubbed over the spot again. Orrie could only notice a small indent in the wallpaper when she pressed down around the area. "Maybe a hole. The paper's too stiff to push my finger through."
"I can find something to tear it with," Orrie said, and spun around to find a sharp object from somewhere. He got maybe two steps before he heard a loud RIIIIIPP!, and he turned around again to see a huge chunk of the wallpaper torn off. Dipper smiled a little sheepishly, pieces of paper caught between his fingers.
"Didn't think it'd tear that easily," he chuckled with mild embarrassment as Orrie just stared. Dipper couldn't have punched through the wall, so the boy could only wonder how he got his hand through to rip away the rest of the hard paper. Oh well– at least it was removed.
The wooden door blended in almost perfectly with the wall. Its silver ring pull had to be what Belle had felt, and she grabbed the handle from its recessed hole and tugged. The heavy door eventually creaked open, catching once or twice on the carpet before reluctantly allowing itself to open more fully. Just beyond its entrance was a narrow, spiraling wooden staircase leading upward.
High fives were shared among the three. "Great work, team!" Belle led the way up, followed closely by her brother and Orrie. Orrie stared around in wonder after stepping past the landing. The attic was cluttered with junk, but cluttered in an oddly organized manner. Mounds of worn and broken furniture were stacked with paintings, props, costumes, books, cloths, boxes– honestly, this attic was like a treasure chest of forgotten antiques. The three split off to squeeze down different paths, and Orrie made his way between two long and empty bookshelves covered in dust and spider webs. Beyond those were some racks of differently styled housekeeper uniforms, again covered in webs.
Orrie browsed through a couple of heavily used books lying on the seat of a chair. One in particular seemed to be about constructing summoning circles judging by the illustrations, but the words were faded and written entirely in Latin. Orrie frowned, putting the book back. He grinned, though, when he saw a pair of black bat wings dangling from a wooden coat rack. The metal frame was bent and sticking out a bit from the top, but he still thought the costume piece was pretty cool. He'd like to keep it if he could.
"Do you see anything suspicious?" Belle called out even though she herself was browsing through a huge box of…random stuff (Orrie could have sworn he saw a baseball bat poking out from the box). Besides that were clearly items relating to or reflecting the theme of Alcor: fake stars, cloths of black and gold, dreamcatchers, and even tiny ceramics showing children playing.
Orrie looked around and finally spotted Dipper even further away than the two of them. He glanced up when his twin called (and even seemed a bit embarrassed once he realized Orrie had spotted him admiring a rather well-drawn portrait of the Dreambender) before narrowing his eyes toward the floor. "Uh, yep," was the forthright response. "Right below us." Blinking, Orrie looked down. Indeed, there seemed to be strange squiggles embedded in the floor; even more weird was how they seemed to be in a line leading to the center of the attic.
Careful not to disturb anything, Orrie maneuvered himself toward where the sigils seemed to congregate. Belle was just as cautious and caught up to him soon enough. "This has got to be it." A humongous rug with a grandfather clock on its center was covering the spot. Lifting just the edge, the two peeked under. Though there wasn't too much light, they could just make out the edges of a giant circle.
"The master rune?" asked Orrie, having never seen a sigil this large before.
"The master rune," Belle nodded, putting the rug back down. "Only problem is we can't disengage it with this clock in the way. Think you can help me move it?" Together they lifted the old clock and carried it carefully off of the rug. Despite being gentle, it still landed with a pronounced thump! Orrie winced slightly, hoping no one downstairs heard that.
"Let me see too," Dipper said, having finally reached them. He and Belle shifted the giant rug away with Orrie's help. After inspecting it for a brief minute he nodded. "So the good news is that we did find a master rune—"
"Gaaah! Don't tell me," groaned Belle, "It's not the master rune, is it?"
"Afraid not. This is more of a supplementary rune, boosting the strength of the true one somewhere else. These marks on the floor are basically the links between the two. But…" He trailed off.
"But what?" asked Orrie.
"That's…weird," he muttered mostly to himself, "There aren't any sigils used for containing demons."
Belle only blinked at her brother. "So? I'd have thought the master rune would be in charge of that anyway."
"Yeah, but it wouldn't hurt to have this one also capable of trapping demons—I mean, that's what I would do if I were going to try and capture Alcor. Not that it would work anyway." He stepped over to one strange symbol etched into the wood. "Still, we better disengage it. It's adding power to the real master rune, so destroying this should weaken the other one. All we have to do is mark out this symbol right here."
"Well, I'm sure we can find something up here to mark it out with."
"Don't worry, guys, I've got it!" And Belle proceeded to whip out a strange gun contraption from her sweater.
"Where did you get a grappling hook?" Dipper asked with much alarm in his tone; Orrie only stared at the outdated thing in bemusement.
"From that box over there. Now stand back!"
"Belle, that's really not a good—!"
FWOOM!
CRAAK!
The entire floorboard broke under the hook's force. Dipper groaned loudly as Belle retracted the cable, deigning to show guilt and worry over her action. It was clear she was more or less expecting it to only dent the wood, not smash it in half. "…Well, it worked," Orrie eventually stated. They continued to stare at the hole in the floor.
Something within it moved.
"What…what the heck are those?" Belle took three steps back as several black blurs scuttled out. The boys were retreating as well as more and more shiny black spiders crawled out of their nest like rushing water. Orrie gasped when he spotted the faint bluish line running down their abdomens.
"The clue!" he shouted, "Those spiders from the clue! The Blue-Striped Arachnids!"
"Don't let them near you!" Dipper shouted, shoving Orrie back. They were swarming, and soon scores of them separated Orrie and Dipper. "Follow Belle! Hurry!"
Orrie nearly lost his balance as he stumbled backward. "What about you?"
"I'll deal with them! Go!"
"Come on!" Belle had snatched Orrie's arm. The boy got one last glance at Dipper—watching as a blue flame erupted inside his palm—before he was pulled away, and they both raced for the exit. Already a mass of spiders were gathered there, and there was no way they could jump to safety. "Okay, take two!" Belle aimed her grappling hook at the beam above the stairs and fired. It flew, wrapping itself around the wood. Catching on, Orrie clung to Belle, and she leaped, swinging the both of them over the spiders and down the staircase. They tumbled down, slamming into each other and the narrow sides.
They landed in a heap on top of a surprised Siegfried.
"What in the—what is the meaning of this!?" Orrie was able to roll off easily enough, but Belle seemed to be having more difficulty untangling herself from the cable; she was practically sprawled all over the man and struggling to orient herself. He was quick to help them up, and once they were separated Siegfried was glaring furiously at the two of them. "What were you doing up there?" he demanded. "You three are searching for clues, aren't you?"
"No, we weren't, honest!" Belle hastily denied, hands zooming behind her back. "We were looking for a place to call the police."
"There's no reception down here," added Orrie, panicking internally now that he had Siegfried's intense stare, "W-we thought up was the way to go. See, we figured there had to be a way to the third floor somehow—"
"By looking for secret staircases?" His tone was turning very accusatory. "You were actively searching for them, don't lie. You three are—" Thumping cut him off, and a second later Dipper tumbled down the stairs, landing between the three of them. He sat up, holding up a disconnected telephone handset.
"This probably would work better if I hadn't broken it," he chuckled weakly. Belle shook her head in shame at her brother.
"You should have been careful moving that old thing from the pile. And that was our last shot too." Orrie tried to smile reassuringly.
"Well, we still have our cell phones. Worst comes to worst, we'll find another room that has a signal."
Siegfried didn't say anything for a long while. Then, after a loud, forceful exhale through his nose, he turned on his heel. "Stay out of my way," was all he said as he headed back downstairs.
"We will!" Belle cheerily replied to him, waving. When he was well clear and gone she stuck her tongue out. "Jerk."
Dipper stood, tossing the telephone piece and dusting himself off. "I could overhear you guys from the attic and figured Siegfried wasn't going to let us off easy for finding something like this."
"That was some quick thinking," Orrie said. "But Dipper, how were you able to make that fire without a spell or anythi—"
"Guys, we really should leave here ASAP," Belle cut him off, grabbing both of their attentions. In her hand was a scroll. "Siegfried's gonna notice this is missing pretty soon."
Abandoning his question as inconsequential, Orrie hurried after Dipper to read the hint Belle unrolled:
"Rub-a-dub-dub, which the demon doth snub?"
"So basically it's asking which of the three men in a tub the demon liked least," said Belle as Orrie scribbled down the hint and drew a crude image of the attic. "The butcher, the baker, or the candlestick maker."
"The baker," were Dipper's immediate words. Even Belle couldn't help blinking in surprise by how quickly he came to that. "When trying to summon a demon, blood and candles are required, which the butcher and candle maker can respectively provide. Baked goods can be used as an offering, but they're not a necessity, and most demons won't accept them."
"I bet Alcor would," Belle teased.
"Yeah, but Alcor wasn't specified in the hint," countered her brother.
"But we are in—"
Orrie snapped his book closed before she could continue. "Okay, that answers the hint, but it doesn't quite tell us where to go next."
"Doesn't it?" Belle raised a brow at him. "Where does a baker bake?" Orrie paused. Then he nearly smacked himself in the face for missing the obvious. "We better hurry. I'll leave this here so he's less likely to suspect us."
"He already suspects us." But they ignored Dipper's comment as she tossed the scroll near where she'd landed on Siegfried, and the trio treaded carefully toward the kitchen. They saw no one as they stepped onto the tiled marble, Orrie still looking around in concern. Nothing looked out of place or disturbed, but surely Siegfried would have solved the hint by now and taken the clue. He voiced his thoughts.
Belle shrugged and replied with a simple, "We won't know until we check." So they searched the cabinets, the refrigerator, the drawers, the oven—every place they could think of that a baker might use.
And I feel like we're missing something again, Orrie thought to himself as he closed the last drawer containing measuring spoons. He considered the rhyme again. Maybe the last line has something to do with it. It was…'And all of them out to sea'. He looked around. Out to sea…so a lot of water…
He looked over toward the sink. But he'd already checked beneath it.
So what if it wasn't beneath it?
A spike of anticipation flooding him, Orrie checked the stainless steel sink again. It was empty, nothing inside either of its two basins, both drains covered with strainer baskets. Glancing between the two, Orrie lifted up both baskets. It was with the second one he let out a startled gasp—the basket on the right was really a disguised top to something. He pulled it out completely, revealing a thin hollow tube fastened securely beneath the basket.
"You find something?"
"Yeah! Look." Orrie uncapped the tube, dumping a scroll and key into his palm. "Looks like Siegfried really didn't solve it yet." He pocketed the key before unfurling the hint:
"The dish followed his friend to freedom."
Belle stared at the words thoughtfully. "The dish followed his friend to…" Her eyes slowly drifted over to her brother.
Dipper was silent for a moment, catching her stare. "What?" Belle's look turned a bit more deadpan. He blinked, still confused. Then realization clicked. "Oh."
"There's an observatory we went through earlier." Belle led the way to the room, the boys keeping an ear out for any of the other guests. A shiver swept through him, and Orrie cast Dipper a worried look; Dipper nodded in return. He too had noticed how eerily empty the mansion seemed since Cliff's death.
"We'll be alright." Orrie didn't know how he could sound so certain. He wished he had half confidence the twins shared. "We just have to stick together."
"Yeah. You're right." The trip to the observatory was otherwise uneventful. Inside the cramped room was the lone telescope facing the window and the framed pictures of various constellations lining the walls. They easily located the picture labeled 'Ursa Major'. Upon touching the glass, Orrie discovered it was actually a touch screen—letters arranged like a keyboard suddenly appeared at the bottom with a message on top:
"Star light, star bright
The warmest star I see tonight
How close you be, how bright you are
Grant my dearest wish, ___"
One of the circles in the constellation shone bright yellow. Orrie hesitated, unfamiliar with the name of that star.
"…Mizar." Orrie nearly missed the whispered name that fell from Dipper's lips. He punched in the letters. Something clicked, and a tiny booklet fell out from behind the portrait. Orrie grabbed the clue. With the key, he unlocked it:
"I'm not sure why he insists we continue to use these silly codenames. Our plans are finally going into motion, and I'll likely just forget to keep using them by tomorrow. Then again, it beats Stephen's suggestion of being 'proper' and using our surnames instead (which only works if you know the other person's last name, Stephen! For the fourth time, I'm NOT Lemaire). The heck happened to calling friends by their actual names? But whatever. Mr. E says the land is officially ours. We'll begin construction of our manor on Tuesday."
Orrie turned to the second page:
"Edgar, Howard, Dean, and I finally completed all of the manor's traps tonight. Such a huge variety to stop any unwanted guests—human or otherwise—in our home, from the traditional hidden spikes to the much more obscure methods. I've no doubt we've probably the most lethal security system the world'll never get to see, provided nothing goes amiss. And if things do go downhill let's ALL hope, for the world's sake, the traps and binding circle are strong enough to contain a vengeful demon."
"What the…there are three pages?" Orrie nearly dropped the page stuck to the second; Belle caught it before it fell. She held it up for them to read:
"Stephen never woke up this morning. Monty was the one to inform me. Mary is in tears, still crying in her bedroom; she's been there all day. Edgar no doubt suspects foul play- a bottle of medication was found opened on Stephen's dresser. Overdose. But why? Was he scared of getting caught by the authorities? He seemed like a sensible guy.
…I noticed Monty and Dean snooping around the bedrooms today. I think Edgar ordered them to find evidence that Stephen's death wasn't accidental. If that's true, I best be careful what I write in this journal. Edgar was the one to suggest we all keep record of everything that happened to us on this journey to obtain infinite power, but if he's going to use these written records against us, then I refuse to give him what he wants."
"Way too much to remember," moaned Belle as she handed Orrie the page. "Okay, so the most important takeaway is that this Stephen guy is not the killer. Oh, and that this house is full of deadly booby traps."
"And that these seem to be the first names of several of the cultists," added Dipper. "The names of the bedrooms must be their last names." Orrie nodded.
And one of them is Mary Sarkozy, the one with the fear of spiders. She likely can't be the killer then. Furthermore, neither the writer nor Stephen had the surname Lemaire.
He flinched when Belle suddenly hovered a bit too close to him. "Say, don't you think this Edgar person might be this Mr. E?"
"I-I was thinking the same thing," Orrie stuttered, calming himself. So Edgar…Edgar Pierce? Both names were used for the supposed ringleader. And Mr. M…Monty. Monty Jans. He and Sarkozy were the most adept at magic. And that would explain the couples joke Mr. H, er, Howard made.
Orrie wrote down the first and last names in separate columns. Slowly but surely they were figuring this out. He stood when he was done, placing the clue in his bag.
Soft screams and muffled thuds froze all three of them in terror.