Chapter Fifteen:
Brilliant Deduction
Shadowbrook:
With Isabella having left the Town Hall with Heidi to help the defense of the town, Anne Marie considered her next move. She needed to speak to Reverend Harding about the disappearance of the two boys – but after the book-burning hysteria, earlier in the day, she felt scared to return to the church.
And then an idea came to her, as she thought of someone else.
But if HE was there…
Feeling a girlish smile spread across her face, despite the events of the day, the schoolteacher hurried over to the tavern.
She did not have long to wait. Fortunately, the barmaid who had been left behind to look after the tavern in the absence of the men was able to serve her with weak ale. Anne Marie was not in the habit of drinking alcohol that often – and she wanted to keep her wits about her.
When an exhausted-looking Victor Danforth entered the tavern (still clutching his ax), to head back to his room, she intercepted him. His expression brightened upon seeing her.
"Why, Mademoiselle Piaget! It is good to meet you again!"
"And you also, Monsieur Danforth." Anne Marie leaned in close so that not even the solitary barmaid could hear her. "But I require some help. And since you were such ze gentleman in protecting me from zat vile Major Bruckner…"
After she had finished her account, Victor turned pale again. "Oh – I was rather hoping to rest… But, ah-uhm!" He cleared his throat. "Clearly, duty calls. Again. Very well, my dear. I will escort you in your meeting with the Reverend Harding! This should be a simple task for someone of MY talents! It seems that the reverend is not of sound mind, if you ask me. Burning books of knowledge! That is sacrilege, Mademoiselle Piaget!"
Anne Marie patted his shoulder, feeling a connection to the tubby playwright. "Thank you, Monsieur Danforth. But may I call you Victor? I would prefer zat you call me Anne Marie, after all…"
Victor felt something inside of him melt at the sight of the Frenchwoman's beaming smile. "Why not? Let's get to work, Anne Marie…"
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
The Church:
Minutes later, the pair of them had arrived at the church, on the western side of Shadowbrook. From the elevated position on the small hill that it laid on, Anne Marie could see that the trench that had been dug during the day now almost encircled the town in its entirety. Where it did not, wagons and upturned carts completed the defensive shield. Militia – aided by the citizens that Inspector Cooke, Sergeant Allardyce, Katarina, and the Scarlet Shadow had hurriedly been training – manned the approaches to the town. Lookouts, such as the one still in the church tower, were on guard to watch for any appearance of the enemy – whether they be the wolf creatures that had taken the covered bridge, or the winged Grotesques of last night.
The scout challenged them as Anne Marie and Victor approached the church entrance – and the schoolmistress stated their business.
"Aye. I heard tell that two boys had disappeared. Ross and Nathaniel they're called," the scout shouted back down. "Before I took over watch here, me an' the Captain searched all around the church and the vicarage – despite the reverend's indignation. We didn't find any sign o' them!"
"Thank you. Where is ze reverend now?" Anne Marie responded. Her heart sank, remembering that it was not long ago that she got Ross to apologize to Gillian in her classroom. And yet so much had happened since then…
"Saw 'arding going into the church 'bout a quarter hour ago, Miss. He was carrying a cat in with 'im. Don't know why…" And with that, the soldier returned to his watch.
Anne Marie frowned. "Un chat…? Not the one I saw at the farm, I hope…!" she muttered.
"Oh, holy mother…!" Victor gasped out loud.
Anne Marie turned to him. "Victor? What is it…?"
"Loo-look at the decorations on the roof! I never paid attention before…"
Following his gaze, Anne Marie raised her face again to take in the church roof. The architect had built Shadowbrook's church in the Gothic style such as cathedrals in the old continent of Europe. It was a stylish roof – complete with gargoyles.
Only from their vantage point from the south west of the church, Anne Marie and Victor could see that several of the gargoyles were missing. Wait – Anne Marie told herself, her mind now racing. They were not acting as drain spouts – so they were not gargoyles. Instead, they were called…
"Mon dieu!" she slapped a hand against her temple. "Grotesques! But… Ze elements… Zey must have worn the others away…," the schoolmistress reasoned.
"No… The few remaining are complete." Victor gulped and held onto his ax. "Let's find Reverend Harding. And right now I don't care if he objects to me bringing a weapon into the house of God…!"
But although the heavy door was unlocked, and there were candles burning in the church, there were only an elderly couple present. They had been praying at the altar for deliverance, and were now on their way out. Before they left, the wife confirmed that she had glimpsed Reverend Harding coming into the church with a cat tucked under one arm – a cat that seemed agitated. Harding had disappeared into a small chapel in the corner that was separated from the rest of the church by a wooden divider and door. A locked door.
"Reverend 'arding? Ze wish to talk to you," Anne Marie called out with trepidation.
Her only answer was silence.
"Is he asleep, or …dead?" Anne Marie turned pale at the morbid thought.
Victor squatted to look through the keyhole, and huffed. "I cannot see anything! The key must still be in the hole… Wait! Yes – there's a gap at the base of the door! Fetch me some paper, please, Anne Marie."
"Oh…!" She looked around at what was available, and grabbed one of the prayer books before ripping out a sheet.
Victor stared at her in disbelief. "But you were upset at the burning of those books…!"
"It ees a blank sheet!" she offered in her defense. "Besides… Ze reverend deserves this little act of retribution."
"Dash it! Slip it under the keyhole, please. Then move aside."
She did so, voicing her understanding of his plan. Victor took several paces back, before sprinting at the door. Twisting his shoulder into the wooden door, he got the key to shake. Victor winced and flexed his bruised shoulder – but repeated the procedure. On his second bash the key fell from the keyhole and landed on the prayer book sheet, which Anne Marie managed to pull back towards her as she got down on the stone floor again. With a cry of delight, she sprang up and unlocked the door.
The small private chapel was candle-lit, but empty. There were no other obvious exits.
"Is he a witch?" Victor exclaimed in puzzlement.
"Ze term would be 'warlock' for a man," his companion declared. She walked into the chapel and carefully studied the floor. Finally, crouching down next to the altar, Anne Marie straightened up with something in her hand. "Hair of le chat," she breathed. "It ees ginger – not that of le chat I saw at the farm. Zat is a relief… Help me look for ze secret door, Victor!"
Putting down his ax, the playwright assisted the school teacher in tapping the frames next to where the cat hair was found. Soon, next to a fitted bookshelf, they found a panel that sounded hollow. Moving what turned out to be a fake book resulted in a click, and the panel swung open to reveal a dark alcove. Peering inside, the pair of investigators saw a stone staircase leading to one side, running underneath the church. They looked at each other, startled to hear the faint sound of a violin. There was also the smell of…
"…sulfur?" Anne Marie ventured. "Well, we 'ad better investigate."
"Oh, lord… Must we?" Victor quivered.
"You said it should be a simple task for you to protect me whilst I confronted the reverend." The schoolteacher cracked a smile at him. She took a candle from the altar and placed it on a provided candle tray, to help provide more light for their descent. "Let us proceed. We mustn't linger!"
"Er… Um…" Gulping, Victor gestured at the secret passage before them as he kept a tight grip on the ax.
"Yes, Victor?"
"That amulet of invisibility that I picked up from the Scarlet Shadow… I tried earlier – but I cannot get it to work again! Blast it. We could have used it here!"
"Magik…? Never mind, Victor. We will venture down together…"
"Y-… You go first!"
Anne Marie sighed. "Well, I 'ave ze candle, after all… Don't run away, will you?"
With an effort, Victor stopped his face from twitching. "I'll be…right behind you!"
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
The door at the bottom of the staircase was already wide open. Finding themselves to be in a crypt, the pair took fright at what lay before them – and they ducked behind a tomb in one of the nearest alcoves. The sulfur was coming from a bowl of the yellow powder hung above a bracket that held a burning torch. Hurriedly, Anne Marie blew out her candle to avoid their shadows from giving them away.
In the main space of the crypt, Reverend Harding was sat on a short stool, to the right-hand side of his visitors' line of vision. He paused in his violin playing and appraised the creature lying on a bed of straw strewn out across the floor before him. Seeing the eyes flicker and the pointed tail twitch, the vicar resumed his slow, mournful tune.
The being was a blue-white colored, domed-headed, gargoyle that was the size of a man. That was if it did not have the bat-like wings which added to its full mass, Anne Marie told herself, as she stared at the monstrosity in the available light provided by the torch on the wall. And now, the gargoyle's eyes closed again as it settled into slumber. The taloned hands released what it had been holding. The dried-up husk of a ginger cat.
Anne Marie made a gagging noise – and she immediately clamped a hand over her mouth before she could scream her horror. She, along with Victor, had also just spied the other husk that was present – this one being the remains of a nine-year old boy, lying discarded at the left-hand side of the crypt, behind the sleeping form of the gargoyle.
"Oh no…," Victor muttered, his voice too soft for Harding to hear above his violin playing. The playwright tapped Anne Marie's shoulder, gaining her attention. With a trembling finger raised for silence, Victor pointed behind him – to Anne Marie's far left. She craned her neck to see the huddled, frightened form of another nine-year old boy, who was leaning against the base of the corner wall, screaming as he held his arms up, as if staring at them in horror.
Only his scream was a silent one. He was a gray statue.
It took a mighty will of effort for Anne Marie not to wail her despair. Instead, she covered her mouth again with her free hand, as the implications sank in. Nathaniel was clearly now dead, and…
"Ross… He ees now a statue!" she whispered to Victor, as Harding played on. Was the music keeping the gargoyle asleep? Anne Marie wondered…
Victor paled, remembering what he had heard of the statue in Harlow Morgan's workshop. How it had come alive and attacked Anne Marie and her companions. "So what do we do? Confront the reverend?" he suggested.
"I suppose so." Anne Marie tried to control the pounding of her heart. "Tres bien… Let us do this together!"
But as soon as they stepped up from behind the tomb, the Reverend Harding abruptly dropped his bow and violin, and swiftly drew out a pistol from inside his cloak.
"Drop your weapon, you Frog!" he spat.
Nerves – and the insult – overcame Anne Marie's resolve. She quickly dropped her pistol. Seeing the town elder also covering him with his gun, Victor gulped and carefully placed his ax on the stone floor also. Both of them, upon Harding's order, raised their hands.
Despite her terror, Anne Marie's mind was racing. "So… You are working with zis Gargoyle! Ze being responsible for the Grotesques and the Living Statues! Why?"
Victor felt his lips go dry. He swallowed and forced himself to speak too. "And why…were you playing music to it, whilst it…ate?"
"The Gargoyle is demanding more food, in order to increase its strength for the work it must do!" Harding's eyes blazed at them as he snapped back. He glanced at the creature. "It has a dangerous temper – but I have learnt that music does indeed sooth the beast."
"It 'as killed those two boys! Zey were under your protection today!" Anne Marie blurted angrily.
"Master Ross and Master Nathaniel must have sneaked into the chapel during a break time in my Sunday School today. They evidently found the secret door, and ventured down here. The Gargoyle has judged them to be wicked – and punished them accordingly!" Harding shouted back at her. "It has fed on Nathaniel, and now his soul lies in God's hands. As for Ross… He has been given a second chance. Soon, he will serve as another protector of the town. He will assist his new kindred and the…Grotesques…to cast out the sinners – and fight back against the army of beasts that SHE has sent to slaughter us!"
" 'She'… You mean the Shadow Witch. Elaine Bartlett," Victor conjectured.
"Of course I mean Bartlett!" Harding bristled, his expression turning thunderous. "The Devil himself has sent her back from hell to plague us, after her death – dammit! And her pack of creatures will kill the innocent of this town, as well as…"
"And ze Grotesques and ze Living Statues? Have they not killed the innocent?" Anne Marie pressed him. "What about those were attacked – even killed – last night, by the Grotesques?"
The pistol in Harding's right hand shook slightly. "They must have been attacked because they had sinned," he reasoned. "With its power, the Gargoyle gave life to the grotesques on my church… Turned them into its vessels to punish the sinners of Shadowbrook. The Gargoyle will not kill the innocent…"
"Is that what…it told you?" Victor asked, choosing his words carefully. Despite his fear, he was trying to read into the expression and words of the reverend – and what he was gleaming so far was not reassuring him.
"It did. The Gargoyle knows of dark forces that are hiding near this town. It has warned me. But first there is Bartlett to deal with, and there is a matter that I want t-"
"Pardon, Reverend Harding…" Anne Marie shared a worried look with Victor. "But we are…confused. How long have you been harboring this…magnificent beast? How did you come across it? Does anyone else know…?"
"No one else knows! I am a single man – and I maintain the church myself, whilst the verger sees to the graveyard. This creature is my secret! Mine!" Harding suddenly fell silent after his outburst. When he spoke again, it was with a calmer manner. "Magnificent…? Yes. I am glad that you see the beauty in the living protector of this church, Miss Piaget!" He lowered his weapon slightly. "Very well. I discovered this creature a few months ago, when I discovered a tunnel leading off from this crypt. It was wounded. It had escaped from captivity from the evil ones who had created it for their foul purposes – the ones who are plotting to take over this town. They have plans, terrible plans…"
"Who are 'they' ?" Victor interrupted.
"They are called the Order of the Crimson Hand, Mr Danforth." The reverend's eyes were now full of fear. "After hearing what the Gargoyle had to tell me, I made inquiries… Discreet inquiries. They support the Gargoyle's testimony. The Order is somewhere active in this area. They must be stopped before the Ancient One and its demons – those whom the Order bow to - fill the countryside…" He trailed off, lost in the horrific vision of the dreadful story he had learned.
"Um… Why have you not told the other town elders, reverend? Get them to help you…," suggested Victor.
"Because I had been informed that one of my fellow elders is working for the Order of the Crimson Hand! My informant was murdered soon after he had posted his letter of warning to me," Harding spat. "And their influence runs deep. This agent might have already spread their corruption to any of the other elders!"
"You spoke of…a separate matter?" Anne Marie asked, wishing that she could lower her hands.
Harding's expression hardened. "Yes… I want the Gargoyle to deliver justice upon the murderer of the previous reverend. My father!"
Victor shuffled his feet nervously. "Ahh… I am sorry to hear that… Um. When was this? What…happened?"
"Twenty years ago! He was poisoned when my since-deceased mother and I were separated from him, during the Revolutionary War. But over the years I have found that he had been paying money to one of the other town elders of Shadowbrook … No – I do not know why! I had hoped that whoever it was would have confessed to me by now. And when Bartlett was our prisoner, I got her to use her powers to read the minds of the other elders. She discovered their identity - but she would not tell me who the culprit was, without us guaranteeing her freedom from the gallows – damn her! Now, when this crisis is over – I must capture the other elders, one by one, and bring them to the Gargoyle. It will smell the guilt of my father's murderer, and…"
"Mon dieu…," Anne Marie whispered, thinking of what she had learned over the past twenty four hours. Could it really be that…?
Harding frowned at her. "Yes? Speak up!"
But they were interrupted by the Gargoyle snorting. Victor yelped as the creature opened one eye – then the other. It stirred, and flexed its wings and powerful arms as it shifted onto its knees.
"You Have Disturbed Me With Your Prattle, Harding…"
Anne Marie and Victor both winced at the mental intrusion. They exchanged a look of surprise as they realized that the Gargoyle had communicated to them all without words.
Harding momentarily bowed his head at his ally. "My apologies, my friend. These people have discovered us. They were searching for the boys."
The Gargoyle hissed and glanced at the husk of Nathaniel. It gave a mocking smile. "The Small Human Made For A Satisfying Meal. He Gave Me The Energy To Turn His Companion Into…Another Protector From Our Enemies… As For You Pair, You Will Also Serve As My…Servants!" It got up upon its taloned feet.
"What!? You mean…you plan to turn us into living statues? But I was planning to lose weight – not gain it!" Victor wailed. He cast a pleading look at the reverend.
Harding shrugged. "My secret must remain a secret! Once you have both been…converted…you will serve in the defense of this church and this town. The Order of the Crimson Hand will not be able to corrupt you! Consider yourselves fortunate to be so honored!"
"No! Wait!" Anne Marie yelled. "I… I think I might know who killed your father!"
There was a sneering look of disbelief on the clergyman's face. "How could you possibly…?"
"I listen to what I am told! And I remember…" Anne Marie swallowed hard. "There ees a man in Shadowbrook who has access to poisons. He was 'ere, in town, twenty years ago. He can provide details of anyone he could 'ave been acting for, if you allow me to persuade him…"
"Who is this?"
"Harlow Morgan – ze inventor."
"A man of 'science'? This dangerous path of malady that lures men away from god! A man who does not even turn up to worship the good Lord at church! Ha!" Harding spat his fury. "Very well! Do not bless them with your stone touch yet, Gargoyle. I will escort Miss Piaget to Morgan's residence, and see what information he has to yield."
The Gargoyle hissed its frustration, but yielded. "So Be It… I Will Watch Over This Human. Even If He Cannot Become My Latest Toy, He May Yet Amuse Me!"
"B-but the town is under siege! If you are meant to be protecting Shadowbrook…" Victor tried to argue.
"He has a point," Harding concurred. "We must be prepared to unleash our forces very soon!"
"I Will Personally Venture Out And Judge The Battlefield For Myself," the Gargoyle announced, after some consideration. "Therefore…"
The creature closed its eyes. There was a ripple of invisible energy that Anne Marie and Victor felt pass through the air from the being to…
They turned round to face where the pulse had gone to. Moments later, they gasped and clutched at each other as the statue of Ross flexed its gray hands. The eyes lit up with a gleaming white light. Then with a grating noise, the Ross-statue rose to its feet. It reached for the dropped ax and pistol and tossed both of them into the corner of the crypt. Then it grinned at the prisoners, revealing its stone teeth.
Harding nodded in satisfaction. "Mr Danforth – you will stay here with Master Ross as your keeper! Miss Piaget and I are leaving."
"As Am I…" The Gargoyle retreated into the shadows of the far side of the crypt, and disappeared from their view.
Anne Marie looked frightened as she was led away by Harding, who pressed the point of his pistol into her back as he walked immediately behind her. Within seconds, they had headed back upstairs and left Victor alone with the statue of Ross – who had now slowly stepped forward to guard the entrance to the crypt.
Victor slumped against the side of the tomb and slid down to rest his wobbly legs. He took out his handkerchief and pressed it against the sweat on his face.
"Oh, holy mother…!"
Amongst his many fears filling his head, Victor clung onto one image of hope – something that the unhinged Harding had evidently missed.
As she had been led away, the trembling Anne Marie had glanced at the playwright and had actually mustered up the courage to wink at him…
After several minutes, Victor's pounding heart relaxed a little. The Gargoyle had not reemerged from the shadows. So it had truly left the crypt. But how? Was it able to disappear like a ghost, or…
"Of course…," Victor muttered. "Harding said that he discovered it in a tunnel leading from here. It's been using that tunnel…to come and go, at night. And no one in the town has reported seeing it, otherwise Captain Townsend and that Inspector would have taken action. Therefore, that tunnel comes out in the countryside… Oh, no…!"
He hurriedly got to his feet, and took a deep breath. Then, trying to move without drawing attention to himself, he slowly walked towards the shadows of the crypt where the Gargoyle had disappeared.
Then was the noise of slow, pounding steps. Victor turned round. His eyes grew wide as he saw that the statue had picked up Anne Marie's pistol and leveled it at him. The statue of the boy snarled silently at him.
Victor gulped and sidestepped back towards the middle of the crypt. The statue's snarl faded away, and it took the few, heavy steps back to its post at the entrance to the crypt. The pistol was not lowered, but Victor was no longer being aimed at – so long as he kept away from the shadows…
"Dash it!" he cursed.
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
Shadowbrook:
The wall-mounted torches and the brazier burning in the Town Hall square provided the light for the journey for Anne Marie. Unfortunately, that was not enough light for the few, hurrying, citizens who were passing by on the streets to see that the Reverend Harding was frog-marching the schoolteacher.
"Please… Stop pressing your gun against my back ribs!" Anne Marie protested, just loud enough for only her captor to hear. "You are a man of God! Why are you…?"
"…doing this? I dare not take risks, woman! For all I know, you may be an agent for the Order of the Crimson Hand. Now stop your whinging – and take me to Morgan!" Harding rasped.
Minutes later, Anne Marie paused before the door to Harlow's workshop. Hoping that he would be able to help her in her moment of need, she knocked on the door. When nobody answered. She tried again. Still silence.
So now it was time to take a gamble…, she thought to herself. Her wild back-up plan.
"He's not here…"
"Un moment, monsieur! Let me try something…"
Harding curled his lip. "All right. No tricks, woman!"
Shaking, Anne Marie pulled out her purse and retrieved the key she had found underneath the tree at the edge of the fields. She slipped it into the keyhole and tried to turn it…
The door unlocked.
Placing a hand over her mouth to stiffen her exclamation, Anne Marie walked into the unlit workshop. Luckily, there was a candle and matches on the nearest table, close to the window where some light from the street managed to pierce the gloom before them. Anne Marie lit the candle.
"As I said… He's not here!" Harding's anger was all too clear.
Anne Marie thought furiously. "I 'ave seen the desk where he records his financial transactions," she declared, trying to sound convincing in her lie. She strode forward into the workshop, making sure that she kept to one side of the rug… "Allow me to find it for you…"
"Not so fast, Frog! I want to see the contents of those drawers at the same time as y-AAGGHH!"
Anne Marie spun round, just in time to see the reverend stepping onto the rug and disappearing into the gap in the floorboards. But as he cried out, Harding fired his pistol.
The bullet ricocheted. Anne Marie yelped as her shoulder was grazed by the shot. Feeling overcome by the shock, she collapsed to the floor on her knees and pressed her hand against the wound.
"You…imbecile!" she cried at Harding.
For a moment she wasn't sure what to do next. Then Anne Marie heard someone coming through the still-unlocked doorway. She was surprised to see that it was the bearded, green-clad soldier who came to her rescue at the school, and who she had last seen at the manor.
"Monsieur Harrison…?" she gasped.
He nodded to her and locked the door behind him. "Miss Piaget. You are wounded…"
"I am fine… Do not step into…!"
"This trap. Yes. I see it. Why are you and the injured Reverend Harding here?" Karl asked.
"Don't give 'arding a chance to reload! He is…unhinged!" Anne Marie panted.
"Don't worry, Miss Piaget. I can see that his Reverence seems to have twisted his ankle, to look at him. His pistol is also out of his reach."
"Get me out of here!" Harding hollered at the younger man.
"I think not, sir. I watched you pair from the street as I approached this place, and your movements struck me as suspicious. Right now, I want to hear the story from Miss Piaget first." Edging past the sprung pit trap, Karl helped Anne Marie into a chair and looked around for something to use as a pad for the gunshot wound.
Many minutes later, she reached the end of her account regarding what she and Victor had discovered in the church.
"I know it sounds incredible, but it ees true…," she finished.
"I know it's true. I have met this Gargoyle," Karl declared. He was leaning back against one of the workbenches. Some wreckage from the fight of the previous night was still present, Anne Marie noted. "But what also interests me is how you got into this workshop with that key you found."
"It was just a suspicion…" Anne Marie gave a weak smile and pointed at the astronomy charts on the wall near to Karl. "Monsieur Morgan was keeping track of the phases of the moon! My party worked out that the attack upon ze farm was the work of a werewolf. The same creature that evidently attacked Major Bruckner at the olde woods. For a key to have been left behind at that tree, close to ze farm… I wondered if it had been the werewolf in human form, undressing, making his attack – and then returning to his clothes afterwards. Only to depart in 'aste after his failed raid, leaving his key behind by accident." She paused. "We were with Monsieur Morgan last night. He must 'ave opened his workshop up with a spare key."
"Monster… A monster in our midst!" Harding shrieked. "That…scientist…brought this plague upon us? He and all of his kind must be slain, before more are infected – or Shadowbrook is doomed! We mus-"
"Shut up, you fanatic!" Karl peered down into the pit at the vicar. "Right now, I need Mr Morgan alive! He has…" He trailed off, frowning. Then, hurriedly pulling out a sketchpad from his satchel he compared a picture inside it with the Reverend Harding.
"What is it?" the schoolteacher asked.
"Have a look for yourself, Miss Piaget. Tell me your observations," Karl instructed her as he passed the picture to her.
"Please… Call me Anne Marie." She smiled.
"Anne Marie it is, then. I'm Karl."
Anne Marie stood next to Karl and studied the sketch. It was a good portrayal of a smiling Lucy Hanbrook – her head and shoulders filling the page as she held a bunch of wildflowers, whilst the bright sunlight lit up her face.
The schoolteacher's eyes widened as they shifted from the sketch portrait to the slumped figure of Reverend Harding. His red face glared at them, his white wig now askew on his head. But the blue eyes and the nose were similar to…
"When we were in ze Town Hall… Ze Scarlet Shadow said your father had an affair! Who with?" Anne Marie fired at him.
"I do not know! I have heard this before! 'tis lies. Slander! No proof was ever presented to me…," Harding ranted.
"He also said even the elders not present had their secrets…," Anne Marie muttered to herself – though Karl was paying close attention. "And I saw evidence of a changed record at ze manor. Lucy is a year older than she 'as been officially declared to be…"
"I have learnt of this, as well! I have not had time to question Lord Hanbrook about it. But he and his wife must have ordered Lucy's date of birth to be changed, because they were not married at the time of Lucy's conception…" Karl stiffened. He faced Harding. "Did you christen her, Harding?"
"My father was the reverend when Miss Hanbrook was born. But her parents had her christened in the next parish! I do not know the reason!"
"Mon dieu… I think I know why…" Anne Marie shivered with revulsion. She stared down at the reverend with pity. "It's time I taught you a lesson. The Hanbrooks would not allow your father to christen baby Lucy, because he made Lady Hanbrook pregnant. He is Lucy's father. Lucy Hanbrook is your half-sister!"
"A brilliant deduction, Miss Piaget," Karl complimented her.
To Karl's – and Anne Marie's – satisfaction, the reverend was shocked into silence. When he did speak again, he sounded bitter, broken.
"My father was poisoned… I know it was one of the other elders! Could it be that it was Lord Hanbrook? Or Lady Han-?"
"That's not our problem right now! My priority is rescuing Victor from that Living Statue acting as his captive guard – and stopping zat Gargoyle from committing further horrors," Anne Marie cut the reverend off.
"And, important as that is, my priority is to track down Harlow Morgan! He has taken Lucy out of the town," Karl declared. "I tried to get out of Shadowbrook myself – but the flames and the barriers prevented me. And although I asked all of the militia that I could stop, none of them had seen Mr Morgan carrying Lucy away…"
"But he must be the werewolf who infected Major Bruckner! He will transform tonight! Is he planning to kill Lucy?" asked Anne Marie.
"No. He saved her life earlier today. Saved her from the curse of stone, which your blasted Gargoyle has used to turn my friend Thomas into a statue, Reverend Harding!" Karl turned to lambaste their prisoner, before refocusing on Anne Marie once more. "It is important that I find Harlow Morgan and Lucy. I suspect that, from what I've now learned, Morgan tried to kill Major Bruckner at the Crossroads. He failed, and instead infected the man – then attempted to hunt him down at the Major's farm before Bruckner could turn."
"…only Monsieur Morgan failed again. He infected the farm dog, which was turned by ze magic of ze Shadow Witch." Anne Marie nodded, and then added. "Worry not. Ze dog is now dead."
"And all of this makes Mr Morgan a clumsy werewolf – but still a potential ally in this battle that is about to engulf us all," Karl declared.
"Are they still in the town, then?" Anne Marie contemplated. "But ze moon is full tonight…!"
"…and I have not yet seen any evidence that Morgan has gone on a killing spree within Shadowbrook. No – I think he and Lucy are now somewhere out of town. They somehow found another way out…"
"There is an underground tunnel in ze crypt of ze church!" Anne Marie clutched at Karl's arms in realization. "Perhaps there are others?"
His face creased in thought, Karl walked over to the wall with the charts – one hand stroking his beard. Then he pulled down the charts and turned them over, and gave a yell of triumph.
"Yes! Our Mr Morgan found and marked such a secret tunnel. The concealed entrance is just at the back of this workshop, via an alley! Thank you, Anne Marie." He turned to her. "I wish I could help you now – but Miss Lucy's soul is in grave danger, and I need to pick up the trail quickly…"
Anne Marie smiled knowingly as she joined him. "You care greatly for her."
He nodded and patted her arms back. "I do. But I will offer what advice I can, Anne Marie. If you are now recovered enough, leave the reverend here. Find Inspector Cooke, or one of the other dashing heroes you have told me of, and rescue your Mr Danforth. It is a cloudy night outside, but I sense that Bruckner's assault on this town will happen as soon as the clouds part to reveal the full moon. He and his Feral Kin will be invigorated by the astral influence of it. And this vicious Gargoyle and its minions are not to be trusted either! Godspeed – and good luck to you all!"
"And to you also, monsieur!" Anne Marie watched Karl disappear through the front door. Then, feeling steady enough after her injury from Harding, she gave him a final glare of disgust, and left the building also – locking the door to behind her, leaving a few mocking words in her wake, which made the reverend bellow and strain to free himself, without success.
"Do not go away from 'ere now, will you?"
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
The Olde Woods:
The Gargoyle emerged out of the eastern end of the tunnel that the Reverend Harding had found it in, those few months ago. The night air of the olde woods came as something of a relief after spending the daytime hours being hidden away in the crypt – and it flexed its bat-like wings, rippling the air around it. Apart from the visits of its human ally, there was little to do in its lair apart from the planning of building up its forces and the eventual takeover of Shadowbrook…
But now, the Shadow Witch had created her army. She was attempting to wreak havoc in its territory. That was intolerable. Shadowbrook would soon belong to the Gargoyle – and the humans who would not obey its will would instead serve as its Living Statue slaves – or they would become its prey…
Arching its back, the Gargoyle repeatedly screeched its cry into the night air. High above, the clouds moving across the full moon began to shift, as if the noise had disturbed them.
Finally falling silent, and lowering its head as it shoved the bed of fallen leaves back to hide the mouth of the tunnel underneath the gnarled, dead tree, the Gargoyle turned – to see gleaming eyes in between the trees on the neighboring ridge. Then the largest shape advanced on his hind legs – flanked by over a dozen of his Feral Kin.
"You are the being that turned Samuel Shaw…into a statue…," Major Bruckner growled, flexing his taloned half-paws. "Leave this township…! Take your minions, and leave Shadowbrook and its environs… The town is ours to claim…"
"I Had Established MY Claim Before You, Wolf Man! Do Not Test My Patience! None Of You Would Survive In A Fight With Me," the Gargoyle retorted.
Bruckner sneered. "Do not be so certain! We are all immune to your Curse of Stone, my sister assures me... She also has informed me that you are a fugitive – one who has escaped from the control of the Order of the Crimson Hand. You need to run…further away!"
But the Gargoyle hissed and stood its ground in the clearing.
Bruckner snarled and spat his command to his Feral Kin lackeys. "Kill it, my brothers and sisters!"
With a series of blood-curling howls, his pack mates bounded forward from their arc formation and surrounded the Gargoyle, as they lashed out with their claws and fangs.
At first the co-coordinated attack of the Feral Kin served them well. One leapt onto the back of the Gargoyle, preventing it from beating its wings in order to take to the air and make any diving attacks. But then two Grotesques appeared in the sky above the treetops, answering the call of the one who had given them life – and the battle consequently turned into a riot, as one of the Grotesques directly aided the Gargoyle by slaughtering the Feral Kin on its back. After that, the Gargoyle used its wings to hover in the air above the clearing. The downdraft knocked back the Feral Kin, whilst the two Grotesques landed on the ground and charged into the fray. Seeing several of the Feral Kin being flung aside, dying in growing pools of their blood, Bruckner snarled and held out his furred arm, keeping his stooped wolf woman companion from joining the fight. The smallest pair of the Feral Kin were also halted in their faltering advance at a signal from the pack leader…
The fully-fledged wolf man that was Major Lucien Bruckner charged, churning up the fallen leaves in the clearing. Using a collapsed tree trunk as his springboard, Bruckner leapt into the air and collided with the hovering Gargoyle. The two monsters fell back down into the clearing and fought furiously, rolling over each other. Bruckner's outline briefly glowed green, as the determined spirit of his sister sought to channel all of her power through her brother's werewolf body.
In the melee, no one noticed the human emerging from the pile of leaves that was covering the secret tunnel, at the edge of the clearing. He quickly took in the savagery nearby – then quickly retreated into a thicket of bushes, where he hoped that his scent would not be detected…
Finally, the Gargoyle pulled itself away from Major Bruckner, rolling aside. It hissed, feeling its blue blood oozing from the many claw marks it had received. Seeing that both of its Grotesque minions had fallen in the battle, it rose to its feet.
"You Will All Suffer For This! I Will Heal From My Wounds…And Return With More Of My Creations!" Spitting with fury, the Gargoyle then took off – just avoiding the lunge of the stirring Bruckner – and then flew into the darkness of the night, heading somewhere to the north.
The watcher wondered where it was heading in order to heal…
Bruckner and his Feral Kin howled in their victory – but then they appraised the damage around them. A green glow emerged from Bruckner, revealing the floating, wavering, semi-transparent image of Elaine Bartlett.
"No…," growled Bruckner, clenching his furred fists in rage as he examined the lupine bodies amongst the two Grotesques. "Nixon… Torn apart. Several of my recruits from Brooksvane…"
The Shadow Witch curled her lips in disdain for the display of emotional weakness. "You still have about sixteen Feral Kin here, dear brother – including Lexington, Ursula and Jack. And we have a few more – back in Brooksvane, awaiting our call. Furthermore, through you, we can always create more! Now…we have discovered the tunnel that Jack's mind has revealed to me. Are you certain that this leads into the church?" She floated over to the smallest male amongst the stooped Feral Kin.
He bowed his head, and slowly nodded – his tail drooping.
The Shadow Witch gave a satisfied hard smile and focused on her magic just enough to make her hand briefly solid in order to stroke the fur on Jack's head. Then the thin, strange-looking cat that had been the pet of Elaine Bartlett before her mortal death entered the clearing. As ordered, none of the Feral Kin even touched it to slake their hungers.
"Lucien… Are you healing?" The Shadow Witch turned to face the werewolf.
He nodded as he panted on the ground where he had fallen after his failed lunge to prevent the Gargoyle's escape. "Thanks to the power you have given me, dear sister…"
"Good. Then we can proceed. You and a few of our Feral Kin here will stay to act as a distraction to the pathetic humans. I will possess Solomon and lead the others to the church – and attack Shadowbrook from within!"
"Can the magic that is sustaining the barrier of fire be taken down?" Bruckner growled.
"I will try to address that, my brother. I suspect our old friend Sophie is responsible for that nasty trick! She has become powerful in her own right. If she continues to oppose us… Well, I will devise a suitable fate for her. Now, it is time to finally enact our revenge on this town…" And with that, the apparition of Elaine Bartlett changed into a swirling green vapor which disappeared into the open mouth of Solomon the cat.
Hissing, Solomon ran towards the barely-visible mouth of the secret tunnel. At Bruckner's snarl, the Feral Kin stepped forward and pulled out the leaves and the wooden cover to the dark passageway which sloped into the earth. Then, led by the vessel of the Shadow Witch, thirteen of the Feral Kin followed, stooping even more in the tunnel. Meanwhile Bruckner was attended by the wolf woman that was Ursula, who licked at his wounds – helping them to heal. At a growl from him, Ursula, Jack, and the wolf man that was Lexington followed their alpha as he strode out of the clearing and headed north.
Towards the covered bridge? The watcher thought so.
What do I do now? he mused to himself, wiping the sweat of fear from his face. It's clear that if I had taken the other way at that junction, I would have emerged at the church! And now that witch and her wild minions are going to attack Shadowbrook.
Anne Marie and Victor Danforth… They'll be in danger, if they are both in the church!
But I came here to track down Lucy and Harlow Morgan…
Sighing, Karl Harrison made up his mind. He carefully emerged from the thicket of bushes, swept the bits of them off his clothes, and walked back to the tunnel entrance.
Karl abruptly halted, his eyes wide with shock. One of the trees at the edge of the clearing was now using its exposed roots to pull itself across the open space to join another gnarled tree that was already guarding the tunnel entrance. Both trees had blazing orange-white eyes and triangular mouths lined with sharp clumps of bark that formed rudimentary teeth…
"No!" Karl hissed. "Blast the Shadow Witch! This has to be more of her work."
He hesitated. The Living Trees became aware of him as one turned to face his direction – but it did not advance. They were just sentries, then. If he could make a fire, and set a branch alight…
But he had no lamp or tinderbox on him now. His lamp had become exhausted shortly before he had emerged from the tunnel.
So how was he going to get back into Shadowbrook? Bruckner and his Feral Kin were probably heading for the covered bridge, which Karl had heard had earlier fallen to them.
The marsh, then. Cross the River Shadow at the marsh and find a way into town from the south…
Checking that all of his remaining equipment was in place, Karl set out westwards for the marsh, with only the bright full moon – now clear of the clouds – to aid his passage through the maze of trees. He hadn't got far in the gloom when he stopped again. Two yellow eyes were peering at him from the cluster of trees.
Ignoring the thumping of his heart, Karl held his military knife at the ready as he took a fighting stance, ready to defend himself.
Then the animal growled and bolted towards him. It raced on all four paws, confirming that it was not one of the Feral Kin. Nor was it Bruckner. Compared to the big muscular wolf man that was the Major, the size and build of this wolf – although rather large by lupine standards - was too small, too slender…
"No! Lucy!" Karl croaked, realizing.
Snarling, the werewolf that was Lucy Hanbrook sprinted onwards to close in on her chosen prey – leading another running, man-sized wolf which now appeared from the shadows. Together, they drew closer to Karl, wide mouths drawn back from sharp fangs that were about to dig deep and draw blood…