So this is the follow up to the paranormal AU started in Chapter 17, but with some added elements here that lined up pretty well with the rest of this!
We're going to get right to it, but this chapter contains additional warnings of ritual sacrifice, torture, Gothic elements, and a backdrop of WWI.
So.. on with the show.
Prompts are the same as Chapter 17, but with some additions.
From JackofCats: Didn't Watson own a bulldog?

And!

From trustingHim17: Watson believes his rugby days are rather useful when someone tries to sneak up behind him… Does Holmes agree?

Of Summer and Winter

Like the rest of its surroundings, the tumbledown cottage of Sussex Downs was usually a place of quiet respite and peace.

It had been used by a family that had come here to live out the rest of their lives after escaping the hustle and bustle of America. They'd taken a particular interest in raising chickens after bringing them from their family home… but it was not to be.
No one quite knew of what happened within those walls, but the family had been found inside, dead. The chickens were gone, the back grass only revealing frantic chicken footprints as they tried to run away.

As such, those nearby knew it wasn't something to be messed with. The handful of magical beings that crossed over into Sussex Downs knew it reeked of tragedy and found it home to several restless spirits: a conduit for ritual magic if one knew what they were doing.

But then, one day in August of 1917, the cottage was alive again. And it, like the tragedy that happened in its walls, was a blight on the countryside.

I have seen death and danger here… you will die as well, should you come near. It seemed to say.

So, it was left alone. Such was the way of Sussex Downs' magical community.

The moment we darted into the cottage, Holmes and I were greeted with the foul smell of blood and human fear, both prime indicators that we were running into incredibly active danger.

The walls were faded, dingy, and held the last remnants of little fingerprints from children scored across them. Given what we learned when we first retired here, the kitchen we darted past was still set for four people.

Worst of all, however, was the sight of a set of paper dolls, half hanging off the table, as if they had been taken before everything occurred.

Dreadful… I hope they can rest easy once we are done here.

"Watson." Holmes made a hand trumpet, whispering in my ear as we passed the kitchen. "I know we two normally do not utilize our natures as Fae, but I believe it is necessary this time. I do not know of mortal means to stop the ritual and, at the same time, save those here."

"I know what you are getting at Holmes. And I do not like it either, but it is a necessity." I said as we both dropped part of the glamour spells we'd worked so hard to keep up for all of this time.

Fairies were often depicted as either winged little folk or something more animalistic in nature. The truth was that most Fae were closer to humans than humans liked to think, apart from their magic and indicators of which Court they were in.

Holmes's ear twitched, pointed upwards as most of our kinds' were. "Follow me, my dear Watson, and keep a hand on your revolver as well." He murmured. Whenever he did tap into his magic, his voice took on an icier quality than normal, like listening to the Northern Wind sweep across the land.

"Behind you, my dear Holmes," I whispered back, my voice much warmer, like the warm Southern Wind that brought with it summer, rain, and promises of growth. My hand went towards my revolver, as promised, with bullets for both mortal and creature.

And for a brief moment, the shadows and the sorrow that blanketed the cottage lessened as we hurried through the cabin again, our combined flare of magic battling it back.

It seems whoever is in here knows at least some form of magic. The cottage should not take us this long to get through.

Navigating through the cabin, much to my chagrin, became easier when Watson and I agreed to utilize our Fae natures in this case. I suspect that was a product of the fallout of both violent deaths occurring within these walls, as well as our villain conducting some form of ritual spell within.

And yet, I can't bring myself to feel anger at breaking the promise I made when I crossed over here.

No, what I felt was the cold hands of anger wrapped around my chest towards our selfsame villain, who seemed to delight in that he had a child here, held hostage.

I can hear her cries, and each one is another jolt to my heart. Fae often had baser urges, as seen in one of Watson's novels, or the prattling of others in the newest commonplace work.

As such, I desired to freeze the blackguard to where they stood, unable to move and to remain there.

For now, however, I bit it back. Wanton freezing will not help us. Yet, despite that, a set of footsteps snuck up behind us as if trying to catch us unawares.

"Holmes! Watch out!" Watson called as he grabbed my arm, and together we dodged the incoming swipe of an iron knife as if it were a tackle in rugby. In turn, once we were entirely out of the way, Watson turned and lunged, tackling our attacker at the waist and legs and driving him downwards.
"Good show, my dear fellow!" I said, as together we kept the man down while I ripped his knife away from us.

I should have Watson show me that maneuver… for research purposes, of course. If another instance of a missing three-quarter and his vampiric uncle come by my door again, it would be advantageous to know.

"What the bloody hell are you two? And we know you're here; you can't stop what will happen!" Cried the fallen would-be assassin as I leaned over him, pressing a Winter cold hand against his cheek.

"How do you know we're here?" I asked as we looked down at him.

"Oh, he knows. He was gifted with the Sight and to trick Sight, so he knows whenever you step here…" The man said, glaring up at us both.

"I know of who he speaks of," I muttered, glancing at Watson. "Paul Raymond. Mycroft has heard his name before in the Winter Court; he is something of a thorn and has drained several magical beings."

Of course! It is not a ritual for bringing anything back; it is a draining spell!

The fallen man began to chuckle, spitting upwards. "And he'll be able to get stronger than you bloody lot. You get to witness greatness."

"You call it greatness; I call it evil." Watson snapped, his eyes glowing with Summer Court heat. "He's taken a child, man. Do you have nothing decent in you?"
The man shrugged flippantly, chuckling. "It's an orphan; who's gonna miss a street child?"

There were times when, in working with Watson, we moved as one. It was a strange phenomenon, but there were times when I was glad to have him at my side.

"Sleep." As much as freezing his tongue to his mouth would be satisfying, we had no time, so our villain slept under a careful application of Fae dust, drooling on the floor.

I can only hope we are to make it in time!

Paul Raymond was on top of the world. He had just enough people, enough magic to supply his spell, to become strong enough to topple the structures of magic as he knew it.

He moved about the basement of the tumbledown cottage, each of his prisoners in ropes and chains, groaning softly in pain.

Of course, they protested, things about 'common decency' or 'you are just as vile as those who have caused this war,' but that was so common. And none of them could see what he was doing! No one did!

"Mr…? Please, we did nothing wrong, let us go. Let my child go, please." Came the harsh rasp of one of the women, a… so and so, looking up at him, begging.

"You beg? You beg when you're this close to aiding me? I can't let that happen, you know." Said he as he strode closer.

"Don't, please!" The child begged, writhing in her ropes. "Not my mom!"

"You're next," Paul said simply as he raised the end of his silver-tipped staff, knowing she was a vampire. "And this… this next one goes between your eyes."

"No!" The child screamed as the woman desperately wiggled away, screaming for help as she did so.

"They won't get here." The sorcerer chuckled, moving it closer—and it was suddenly yanked back.
What?

He yanked forward again, only for the same thing to occur. "What? Show yourself!" The room erupted into a flash of gold and ice-blue light, and all Paul Raymond could hear was the snarling of a bulldog.

"Good boy, Champ," I muttered, as the bulldog familiar I had since a boy tugged the staff away from Paul Raymond, who stared at Holmes and I with unbridled rage. Champ scampered over, his back arched as he snarled at the blackguard.

"You?" He scoffed, throwing his head back in laughter. "Oh, cute! The Fae Court has sent dogs after me. What, do you think you can take me in? That's rich!"
"Not dogs of the Fae Courts!" Holmes corrected sharply. "My name is Sherlock Holmes, and it is my business to be in places where people do not want me and my business to know what others don't know."

"And I am Doctor Watson. Did you think you could get away with this?" I asked, barely hiding the rage and magic broiling beneath my skin.

"Get away with it? I already have! You just stepped into the spell, and two Fae of high standing will be perfect fuel." Said he as the shadows in the room grew thicker and the prisoners began writhing in pain.

"Say goodbye to your power, as it should always have been!"

Yet, neither Fae seemed fazed at all. If anything, it only seemed to anger them further. The golden light around the Summer Fae and the ice blue one around the Winter Fae grew brighter in response, twining together as it pushed against the draining shadows, causing them to disperse completely.

Wait… no. They're not just dogs of the Fae Courts; they're a Pair Fae. It would be like taking a flood instead of taking magic!

"You should have thought of that before attacking us and kidnapping these people," Holmes said, moving towards Paul Raymond. "Watson. The prisoners."
Watson nodded as he moved between them, undoing their bonds and flicking the chains off with magic that he could not undo alone.

"You can't do this; I am better than you!" Paul sneered, attempting to throw a flame spell in the Winter Fae's face, only to be blocked by a glittering golden shield spell.

"You're the one who figured us out, and you still attack?" Watson shook his head as he tenderly freed the child, drawing her close.

"And that is where you fall short. And, if you wanted to hide what you were doing… you would have hidden your runic evidence and henchmen along the way." Said Holmes, as his gloved hand moved towards Paul's face and was met with the white light of winter.

After Holmes had frozen the sorcerer for Scotland Yard to find, we two had managed to free all of the prisoners and escort them out into the Sussex sun so they could go home to London or wherever else they needed to be.

"I so rarely get that kind of exercise these days, Watson; it was delicious." Said he as we returned to our cottage by the shore. Champ had followed after us, currently curled at my feet. We had drawn back up our glamours, as human as we seemed again.

"I am glad that we were able to find the girl… though I can't say I like the look of some of her wounds, she'll need constant care for the silver-inflicted wounds," I remarked as Holmes glanced over, raising an eyebrow.

"My dear Watson, that sounds like you want to make a house call. Do you wish us to go tomorrow?" Holmes asked,as I patted my Gladstone bag on the table near my chair.
"I should very much like to do that., I admitted. Holmes let out a bark of laughter, picking up his violin. "Then we shall go tomorrow." He agreed.

And whereas the day began with such terror and pain for several prisoners, ended with freedom,and a lullaby that floated through Sussex and brought with it peace.

At last.

And that is it for this chapter. Thank you to all of you who've been with me this far, and Happy New Year to you all.
I hope you'll follow me into January as we finish these stories, as I mentioned before, we will be finishing on 22.
A little more about this world! Holmes and Watson are identified as Paired Fae, as mentioned by the villain, which are two Fae who are so close that their magic acts in tandem so much so that they are seen as one Fae. They're considered very powerful, and Paired Fae often find themselves reluctant to use their magic if they've crossed over, as it could prove damaging. There is all matter of creatures and monsters here, too, so you might find something out of a story…

Next, my shoutouts are the same as Chapter 17, but I'd like to add: "The Icebound Murders" and "The Affair of the Vampire" by Madame'zelleG as part of those inspirations. Read her fics as well: they're also easily some of the coolest things I've read this year.
Lastly, the references are the same as Chapter 17, but also including 'The Adventure of the Missing Three-Quarter,' 'The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle,' and 'A Tale of Rituals and Fairies.'

Next time: Last Christmas, I gave you my heart… this Christmas…?

Cheers,
Blue