Well, folks, here's a record: for the first time ever, I've had to remove the oldest chapter of a story to make room for the newest one, having nothing in between but all the other chapters of the same story!

Episode 10: For The Perfect Day, Chapter 3

Flynn Carsen, Senior Librarian, was a huddled heap in the corner of the office. Stone had been forced to drag him back there. The flame thrower, now a mangled heap of scrap metal, lay on the office floor. Both men were scratched and bruised, but neither had been bitten. The long, sinuous arm of the wendigo had caught them both, knocking them to the ground. Baird, victim of the wendigo's first blow, was already down, the flame thrower on the floor by the doorway. Stone had picked it up and fired, catching the head of the monster as it turned. It's scream echoed through his brain as he watched Flynn, head in his hands. The creature had turned its attention to the two men then, sending them both flying with one sweep of its arm that had crushed the weapon beyond hope of use. By the time they came round, it was gone, and so was Eve.

The back door flashed and Cassandra and Ezekiel stumbled through, a brown cardboard box in the thief's hands. Stone looked up. Cassandra saw his look and put out a hand to Ezekiel, stopping him in his tracks. Stone nodded at Flynn and they followed his gaze.

"What happened?" Cassandra asked, joining Stone by the central desk. "Where's Colonel Baird?"

"We don't know," murmured Stone, keeping his voice low. "We were attacked. Flynn and I were knocked out. When we came round she was gone."

"You think she went after it?" Jones wondered aloud.

"No," was the simple reply. Stone turned a dark gaze on the younger man. "She was out cold. If she'd come round while we were still out, she'd have stayed with us, or at least left some sign she was okay."

"You think it took her," breathed Cassandra, her face paling. "Do you think she's..."

"I hope not," Stone cut her off before she could finish the question. "Either way, we need to find her and Flynn isn't going to be much use as he is. I think we're on our own."

"Well," murmured Jones, rummaging in the box for something, "we know silver doesn't seem to put it off much. One of our victims was wearing a silver crucifix when they died."

Stone took the item from the thief's hands. It was a hallmarked silver crucifix on a matching chain, the cross with its figure being a good inch long. "That has to get back to the evidence lock up, Jones," he replied, handing the piece back. "Something like that'll be important to the relatives."

"I'm an art thief, Stone, I don't steal from poor people," Jones replied icily. "What did you find out?"

"It's a wendigo," he shrugged. "We kill it with fire. We have until midnight to rescue Baird, if she's been bit, so long as she hasn't fed yet herself. Jenkins is looking for ways to turn her back as we speak. Da Vinci is looking for places it might hide."

"Any you are?" Jones snarked.

"Making sure our boss doesn't go and do somethin' stupid," Stone hissed back, squaring up to the younger man. "Why? You got a better idea?"

"Stop it!" Cassandra shouted under her breath. "You are worse than useless if you two start squabbling again! You said we need fire to kill it. Did you have something in mind?"

"Baird had a flame thrower, but it got flattened," Stone shrugged. "A can of hairspray and a lighter would work in close quarters at a push, but I think we really need to consider using it."

"But that's their wedding present!" Jones complained. "There's no way we'll find something else at this short notice!"

"There won't be a wedding if we don't get Baird back," chastised Cassandra. "We can always give them it early once the monster's dead and we know she's safe."

"I think we need to give it to him right now," said Stone, nodding at Flynn. "He needs to do something, trust me on that, and he needs hope. This gives both of those."

"You sure it's a good idea taking him with us?" Jones murmured.

"You gonna stay here and keep an eye on him if we don't?" Stone countered.

"Ahem," coughed Jenkins. He had arrived at the other side of the central desk without their noticing him, and was spreading a map out between himself and da Vinci. "This may be easier than we thought. It appears that wendigos follow the same general rules as werewolves and vampires in terms of reversing the effect of the bite. As long as the bitten party has not fed, mere removal of the culprit will nullify the venom. Kill it, children. Kill it and do not let the Colonel feed. As for it's location, we have a number of possibilities."

"Wendigo make their nests in cold, damp places," continued da Vinci. "Today has been a cold, damp day, so it may be anywhere in the nearby area, but we think it will divide its time between the hotel, where it knows it has already found food, and here," he pointed at a spot on the map, maybe a mile or so from the hotel. "These are mines. Good, old fashioned, walk in the front door style, mines. No need for complex lift shafts here, our monster can just walk right in to them as if they were a cave."

"How big are the mines?" Stone asked, looking down at the map. Another piece of paper was placed in front of him.

"It really is amazing what one can find on the internet," smirked da Vinci. "These are maps of the mines detailing the different shafts and, importantly, the portions that are flooded. I believe it is in one of these areas that we will find our wendigo."

"They, not we," commented Jenkins. "You're retired, remember."

Leonardo sniffed and avoided his gaze. "Indeed."

"Go get my welding torch from the lab," sighed Jenkins, his patience fraying. "And don't think I don't know you know where it is!"

The door swung shut behind the artista, and Jenkins looked back to the trio. "It is imperative you kill this thing and kill it fast. I will keep an eye on Mr Carsen, Mr Stone: you cannot afford to be looking after him as well. Mr Jones you will take the oxyacetylene welding torch that Leo is retrieving. Mr Stone, you will take the item you were discussing. You at least know how to use it. Miss Cillian..."

"I play at being Merlin again," sighed Cassandra. "I know. But I'm not strong enough on my own..."

Jenkins withdrew two drawstring bags from his waistcoat pocket, one of black velvet, the other of white silk, and handed them to Cassandra. "In the black bag you will find the Ring of Gyges. It provides the wearer with the power to become invisible. You can draw on its power whether you are wearing it or not, though. In the other is a necklace given to an erstwhile colleague of mine by that same fair lady who rendered up Excalibur itself, after the original sword in the stone was destroyed. It has the power to make the wearer universally loved by all. That, at least, will not change how anyone here sees you in the slightest."

"Oh, I don't know," Cassandra blushed. "You're forgetting Signore da Vinci, for one thing."

"Oh no, I'm really, really not," smiled Jenkins.

Cassandra looked at the expression on Jenkins' face. She winced. "Why can I never just be Merlin without the whole feeling uncomfortable about people thing?"

"He is aware," began Stone.

"Oh yeah," grinned Jenkins, cutting him off before he could continue. "Been there, had that conversation."

"I think I'll still wait until I'm through the door before I put the necklace on though," said Cassandra, pocketing the two pouches."

"Probably best," agreed Jenkins with a nod. "I'll set it up."

"I'll get the sword," whispered Stone to the other two, as Jenkins headed for the globe. He hurried off towards their living quarters.

XXXX

Eve Baird groaned and wiped a drip of water from her face. She attempted sitting up. Her head swam. She collapsed back down again with a sigh. She was cold. She was thirsty. She was hungry. She was so hungry. It coursed though her veins like a drug. It drove into her stomach like a knife. She tried sitting up again and her head spun so much she retched. She had to find food. Any kind of food. But where was she? She opened her eyes but it made no difference. The world around her was as black as tar. The air tasted dank and stale. The water that drip, drip, dripped onto her face tasted bitter. She rolled over onto her stomach. Her muscles and joints complained, each adding their own voice to the symphony of pain that enveloped her. One voice rose high above the rest. A stinging, sharp, scream of pain from her lower torso, front and back. An iridescent double arc of bright points among a dull background ache. It didn't matter. It couldn't matter. She had to get out of here. She paused, listening to the echoes of the water, dripping now onto the hard rock instead of her face. She was in cave. That much she was sure of. If there was a way in, there must be a way out. That was logical, surely. She remembered the feeling of rock at her back and side when she had regained consciousness. She had been in a corner then, or a niche of some sort. She reached out and found the wall of the cave. It felt oddly smooth in some parts. She could see no light, so she must be deep in the cave system, she thought. She must at least be around a few bends.

She dragged herself forwards, setting her jaw against the pain that shot through her with every movement. The tunnel went on, inch after inch, metre after agonising metre. She reached a timber, and blinked in the darkness. Man made? A deliberately constructed tunnel? Not one for a road or rail track, she thought. The ground would have been smoother. A mine then? There were mines near Portland. Were there any near the hotel? There must be, surely. Were there any caves? If Flynn... If they were looking for her, would they come here? Were there other options? Should she stay were she was, hoping they would find her, or should she risk crawling onward, possibly toward the light, possibly deeper into the labyrinthine shafts? She thrust out a hand to the other side, hoping to feel the opposite wall. She felt nothing but damp stone and water. With one hand on the wall beside her, she took a breath, steeled herself, and dragged herself forward into the darkness.

XXXX

Stone joined the other two still buckling the sword belt around his hips. Jenkins drew in a long hiss of air and stepped forward, batting the cowboy's hands out of the way and fixing sword and scabbard in place.

"Remind me," he said, "once this is all over, to teach you how to use a sword properly."

"I know how to use a sword," Stone protested. "Pointy end goes into other man, or monster as the case may be."

"Yes," sighed Jenkins. "Remember when you told Baird you knew how to punch?"

"Fine," muttered Stone. "But I ain't prancin' about with some filigree handled foil with one hand in the air and a sieve on my face."

"Well no, of course not," replied Jenkins, looking confused. "You'll be learning how to use a sword."

As the old man turned his back, Stone shared a look with Cassandra. By the time Jenkins had spun the globe and turned back to them, they were both innocently facing the door and waiting patiently. Jones, on the far side of Cassandra, was the only one to betray the slight hint of a smile across his features. Light flashed around the edges of the door and Cassandra stepped forward, opening the door into the hotel basement once again.