The Wintervale Knight: Episode 52

Paul paced up and down in the meeting hall, his hands firmly clasped behind his back. Jonah, Sophia, Charlie and Brother Ian waited as Paul struggled to calm himself before speaking.

Finally, Paul stopped and brought his hand up to his face, his fingers closed in a tight fist over his mouth.

He stared at the floor as he slowed his breathing.

Tired of the prolonged silence and tension, Ian said,

“You called this meeting, Paul. What is troubling you?”

Paul stared with a burning intensity that could have set the floorboards on fire.

“My job, as I understand it,” he said, “is to ensure the safety of Lichenhurst.”

He looked up at Ian and asked,

“Is that correct?”

“That is correct,” Ian confirmed.

“Then how may I ask am I supposed to maintain the security of this place and the safety of its people when . . .”

Paul pointed at the door as he shouted,

“He keeps bringing home strays?”

“Strays?” Sophia asked.

“First Scarlet Reay. I was forced to let her stay, and because of her, my boys Stephen and Cole are running around Mt. Rennick establishing a paper trail should anyone try to track her.”

Paul exhaled and took a few deep breaths to calm himself.

“I accepted that Sir Thomas cares for her, and the last thing I want to do is cross him. But now after almost getting yourself killed. . .”

Paul turned to Jonah,

“You bring home not one but two more strays?”

When Sophia reached out for Jonah’s shoulder and began to speak, Jonah stopped her.

“You’re right, Paul. What I did was stupid. I was worried about my family and my very pregnant wife. But in my defense, the butler Fredrick is the only one I brought. The other guy is a drifter Sir Thomas called Sir Eldridge.”

“Another knight?” Sophia asked.

“I didn’t get much information from him. He helped stop Clairbourne, and he claims he was searching for some sword,” Jonah said.

Jonah turned back to Paul and continued.

“I don’t know much about this Eldridge guy, but Fredrick was a prisoner of Clairbourne. That maniac removed Fredrick’s tongue. He helped save my life. He doesn’t have to stay here, but I certainly couldn’t just leave him in that house.”

“Fredrick is being checked out at the hospital. Once Dr. Shrivastav releases him, we can send him somewhere safe. What concerns me is this other knight Eldridge,” Ian said. “You said you don’t know much about him.”

“No. Not a whole lot,” Jonah said. “His name is Simon Eldridge, and he said the sword he got from Clairbourne has a name. I can’t remember it, but Eldridge called it the soul sword.”

“Any idea why he would risk tangling with Clairbourne for a sword?” Ian asked.

“This isn’t just any sword,” Simon Eldridge said, suddenly appearing at the back of the room.

He stepped up and gently lay the sword on the table. The sword seemed to glow and give off a faint hum.

When Ian recognized Simon as the drifter he had seen earlier in town, he moved away from the sword.

“I know you,” Ian said unnerved.

“I apologize for my presence,” Simon said. “I am on a mission. I woke up long ago in a field with no memory, but somehow I knew my mission was to retrieve the seven swords.”

“Seven swords?” Sophia asked.

“Yes. Long ago, seven brothers swore an oath. They swore to serve no man, woman or king. They vowed to protect the land and the people from any who would do them harm. The elder gods showed favor to these seven brothers and gave each of them a sword. Each sword was imbued with one of the seven elements of creation. Over time, the swords were lost, along with the knights’ oath. It is my mission to find all seven swords and give them to those who will take up the knights’ oath,” Simon explained.

“You have the sword,” Paul said. “So why are you still here?”

Simon looked at Paul and said,

“Because I believe you are going to need my help.”

* * *

The small band played Celtic music as Scarlett watched the people of Lichenhurst celebrate around a large bonfire whose flames seemed to reach the sky. Even though she was comfortable here, she still didn’t feel like one of them. After Clairbourne’s death, Jonah had brought everyone back to Lichenhurst while Sir Thomas went to speak with the Lady Wintervale.

Emerging from the dancing crowd came a waddling Jasmine, her baby growing larger every day.

When Scarlett started to get up to help her, Jasmine waved her off.

“I’ve done this before. I can do it again,” Jasmine assured her.

Once she reached the steps, she stood staring at them.

“You sure you’re okay?” Scarlett asked.

“Why couldn’t these steps be smaller?” Jasmine asked.

“Dang, sis. You need to lay off the poached eggs,” someone said.

Scarlett looked up to see two smiling young men behind Jasmine.

“Leave her alone,” one told the other. “Clearly she just ate, and now she must wait two weeks to digest whatever animal she devoured.”

Jasmine turned to both men and shouted with glee.

“Hug me!” she ordered. “I can’t move.”

She threw her arms around both men and said with great affection,

“I missed you two.”

“Sorry, sis,” the older apologized. “Dad had us running around Mt. Rennick. He told us to leave a paper trial in case anyone went looking for your friend here.”

Jasmine turned to Scarlett and said,

“Speaking of which, Scarlett Reay, these are my brothers,”

Jasmine pointed to the younger of the two.

“This is Stephen,” she said.

“Ma’am,” Stephen answered, rubbing his hand over his buzz cut.

Pointing to the older brother, Jasmine said,

And this is Cole.”

“Ma’am,” Cole said, stroking his long beard.

“I’m so glad you’re back. I really missed you two,” Jasmine repeated.

“Well no one could miss you!” Stephen teased, combing his beard.

“Seriously. Is the baby standing on your spine?” Cole asked.

“I’m due any day now,” Jasmine said.

“How’s Jonah?” Stephen asked.

“Freaking out. He almost got himself killed. He’s not thinking straight,” Jasmine said.

“Well don’t worry. Now we’re back, we’ll help keep him on his toes,” Cole replied, brushing his long hair out of his face.

“Get this,” Jasmine said. “We found another knight.”

Stephen and Cole looked surprised.

“Another knight?” Stephen asked.

Jasmine nodded.

“I know. Two knights,” she said. “Looks like I settled down too soon.”

“Don’t let Jonah hear you say that,” Cole said.

Oh it’s obvious she loves Jonah!” Scarlett laughed.

“I may not if I have to carry this baby much longer,” Jasmine moaned.

Suddenly she went quiet as her eyes widened.

“What’s wrong?” Stephen asked.

“The baby is coming!” Jasmine said.

“You sure?” Cole asked.

“This is not my first rodeo! Go get Jonah! Now!” Jasmine ordered.

The Wintervale Knight: Episode 51

So much has happened since I stepped off the bus in Blackrock. I remember when I was a little girl, my mother always dropped me off at my grandmother’s house on her way to work. One day I remember I was so excited to see my grandmother and show her my new sweater. It was pink with tiny white flowers all across the front. My grandmother told me my sweater was pretty, and just like she always did, she told me I was a beautiful princess. I was so happy with my new sweater that I refused to take it off, even when I climbed the oak tree in my Grandma’s front yard. Halfway up the tree, I snagged the sweater. My heart was broken as I ran into the house, tears streaming down my cheeks. Grandma picked me up and hugged me, promising that she would make it better. She slipped off my sweater and gave me a couple of cookies. When I asked if she was going to cut the pulled thread loose, she said that might cause the sweater to unravel and be ruined. Instead, she took a needle out of her sewing basket and pushed the snagged thread through the front of the sweater to the underside. She fixed it, just like she always fixed everything that went wrong.

I wish she were here with me. If she was, maybe I would’ve just boarded the bus and left Blackrock like Jonah said. When I was being hunted by Dominick Nightbridge, I was frightened. But at least he was normal. Montgomery Clairbourne was a different story. He formed ice out of thin air and threw icicles at us like something out of a comic book. Not only did I put myself in danger but I also put others in harm’s way. Jonah had almost died trying to fix what I started. Although I can’t imagine being without Sir Thomas, I considered leaving Blackrock, thinking things might get better if I left. It’s too late for that now, but at least I’m not alone.

Chapter VI

The Emerald Hotel

The fourth floor conference room at the Grand Haven Hotel and Spa was considered neutral territory. Overhead, neon lights hummed as they washed their hospital white light across the round polished oak table. Seated in three of the chairs surrounding the table were Anastasia Whitlock and her two sisters Izzabella and Valentina.

“Clairbourne is dead,” Izzabella said. “The wolf won’t be pleased when he hears about this.”

“Let’s just be rid of him,” Valentina suggested. “I tire of sending my best product to him.”

The three sisters were dressed in matching elegant turquoise lace dresses.

“If the knight were to venture any farther out of the woods,” Izzabella began.

“Let me deal with him,” Valentina interrupted.

“A direct approach is not wise, sister,” Izzabella said. “I cannot see beyond the borders of the forest. Something clouds my vision.”

“Sisters,” Anastasia said. “I have a perfect plan, but a few hiccups are to be expected. We cannot move unseen if people do not have something greater to fear. For now, the wolf lives, but when he has outlived his usefulness, we will put him down.”

Just then the door of the conference room opened and the Sommerses entered. Christian Sommers held the door for his sister Christie then followed her to the table. Christie chose a chair opposite Anastasia and sat down with her brother beside her.

“Christian and Christie,” Anastasia greeted. “How is the school?”

“Coming along wonderfully,” Christie said. “The students are responding well to the new program. Numbers are up, and I expect a more profitable harvest soon.”

“That is encouraging news,” Anastasia said. “Bishop will be pleased. Once they are prepared, we will put them to work.”

The door opened again and Robert Hogan entered. He let the door close behind him, as his eyes sweep the room, and then walked to a chair to the left of the sisters.

Slipping off his leather jacket, he adjusted his white muscle shirt and stuffed his keys in the pocket of his ratty blue jeans.

“I’ve never felt more at home and more in danger than I do right now,” Hogan said.

“Welcome, Robert,” Anastasia said.

Hogan leaned back in his chair and asked,

“Why am I here?”

“I felt it was time we discuss a problem,” Anastasia said.

“What problem?” Hogan asked.

“Dominick and Clairbourne are dead,” Christie said.

“Dominick was a child, and good riddance to Clairbourne,” Hogan said. “What’s the problem?”

“The problem,” Anastasia said before a pause, “is not the loss of men. Their work can be redistributed. The problem is—”

“The knight,” Hogan interrupted.

“Sir Thomas,” Anastasia corrected.

“Can’t you just use your third eye and find out where he sleeps?” Hogan asked Izzabella.

“No,” she said. “Something blocks my vision. I can’t see into the forest.”

“That’s easy,” Hogan laughed. “Just burn down the forest.”

“Bishop will not allow anything to be done to Grymthorne Forest,” Anastasia informed.

“All right then. Burn the city. A few victims crying out in pain should draw him out. Then I can cook him from the inside,” Hogan proposed.

“That will draw too much attention,” Anastasia said.

“Then what’s the point?” Hogan snapped as he slapped his hand on the table.

Smoke rose from the spot where his hand rested.

“Calm down, Robert,” Anastasia said.

“We need to do something,” Hogan said, “and since you won’t let me do anything, I assume you have a plan.”

“I do,” Anastasia said. “First we need to isolate Lichenhurst. Once we have its location, we will send in armed security and gas the place.”

Anastasia looked at Hogan for a moment before adding,

“Then you can cook Sir Thomas.”

Hogan slowly smiled.

“I must interject,” Christie said.

“Yes?” Anastasia asked.

“How are we going to isolate Lichenhurst if Izzabella cannot see past the tree line?” Christie asked.

“For that, I will need two things,” Anastasia said. “For one, I will need your army.”

Christie sat expressionless for a moment then said,

“You mean my personal team of mercenaries. The Shadow Bears.”

“What a ridiculous name,” Hogan criticized.

“The leader Todd Moore was a student of mine. Didn’t even need training. Calls himself Papa Bear,” Christie said.

“I will need them,” Anastasia said.

“A bunch of mercs with guns aren’t going to stop the knight,” Hogan sneered.

“That is why they are only part of my plan,” Anastasia said.

“Cut the show and tell and just give us the rest of the plan,” Hogan asked, growing frustrated.

Suddenly the door opened and a woman dressed in a stern suit stepped into the room. She waited for the door to close before removing an FBI badge.

“Meet Abigail Thompson, Bishop’s personal hunter. After Clairbourne was killed, she came to me with an idea. A way of smoking out the people of Lichenhurst,” Anastasia said.

“Not just that,” Thompson said. “If my plan works, Sir Thomas will kill most of his own people for us.”

“Once he’s broken,” Anastasia said, “he’s yours.”

Hogan smiled at the thought.

“How do you propose we do this?” Christie asked.

“The Emerald Hotel,” Thompson said.

The Wintervale Knight: Episode 50

Inside Montgomery Clairbourne’s house, the wooden floor creaked as Jonah crept down the hall. He had slipped into Clairbourne’s home looking for information on Bishop and the evil that was slowly taking over Blackrock. When Esma Horlock warned them about the man of ice, Jonah thought it was just a figure of speech. But then he discovered that Clairbourne could somehow generate ice out of thin air.

Jonah stopped at the end of the hall and reached out to open a door. Suddenly he found that he couldn’t move. He looked down at his feet and saw that they were trapped in ice.

“Oh my goodness. Would you look at the size of the rodent I have caught sneaking into my house,” Clairbourne said with feigned surprise.

The wood around Clairbourne’s feet began to freeze as ice ran along the floor in tracks headed straight for Jonah.

Jonah quickly raised his bat and struck the ice repeatedly until he was able to break his feet free.

Then he dashed down the hall, hoping to lose Clairbourne in the large house. He was playing a life or death game of hide and seek.

“You know I never really had much interest in the goings on of you and your people. I was content to live and let live,” Clairbourne said, speaking loudly. “That was until that girl Scarlett came to town. Before she started stirring the pot, we lived peacefully and everyone stayed on their own side.”

Jonah moved quietly through the house, his bat raised for a chance to strike Clairbourne.

Hoping to use Clairbourne’s voice as a beacon, Jonah listened and tried to find a way to come up behind Clairbourne for the attack, but as Clairbourne moved around, his voice reverberated from one end of the house to the other.

“Having trouble finding me?” Clairbourne asked. “Over time, I have become quite familiar with every inch of this place. I know every corner, every nook. But those who are unfamiliar with my little house are easily lost here.”

Jonah came upon a second hallway running crossways. Keeping low, he quieted his breathing as he listened. When he didn’t hear anything, he risked a peek around the corner.

“Got you!” Clairbourne snapped.

Jonah jerked his head back a second before an icicle sliced through the air and stuck into the wall.

“Just missed you,” Clairbourne said.

Jonah didn’t want to risk doubling back, so he quickly rolled forward through the crossways.

A succession of icicles struck the floor, each barely missing Jonah as he leapt to his feet and ran down the hall, trying to put distance between him and Clairbourne. Suddenly a hand reached out and pulled him into a closet.

Jonah raised his bat to strike but stopped when he saw the butler.

Putting a finger to his mouth, the butler pointed to the back of the large linen closet.

Jonah watched as the butler walked to the far end of the closet and pressed on a section of wall. After a faint click, the wall slid open.

The butler motioned for Jonah to hurry inside the wall.

Although Jonah didn’t know if he could trust Clairbourne’s butler, he knew he didn’t have much choice. When Jonah ducked into the dark passage, the butler closed the secret panel behind him.

On the other side of the closet panel, Jonah heard Clairbourne ask,

“Fredrick, where is the intruder?”

Fredrick made no sound.

“If you are lying to me, I will remove more than your tongue this time,” Clairbourne threatened.

Jonah listened for a moment longer. When it grew quiet, he dug into his pocket and pulled out an old lighter.

He flicked the flint wheel several times before the flame appeared. Waving the lighter around, he discovered he was not in a crawlspace but a solid passage. Unable to open the secret panel behind him, he decided to follow the passage to its end.

Thirty feet in, the passage split with one branch turning left and a staircase on the right leading down.

Something about the left passage made Jonah uncomfortable, so he took the stairs.

The farther he went, the colder the air grew.

“I’ve got to get out of here,” Jonah thought. “I’m lost inside these walls.”

At the bottom of the stairs, Jonah saw a door and reached for the handle. It was ice cold. When he tried to push the door open, it wouldn’t budge. Something was blocking it. After a couple of tries, he managed to force it open.

As he stepped out of the passage, he almost slipped. Looking down at the floor and walls, he saw they were covered in ice.

“Oh I’ve made a huge mistake,” Jonah said.

“You and Fredrick both,” Clairbourne replied out of the darkness.

Suddenly the room was filled with light. Jonah squinted to adjust his eyes. He saw he was standing in a room of ice, and scattered throughout were people frozen in place.

“Welcome to my menagerie,” Clairbourne said.

Clairbourne pointed to an empty spot and said,

“I think I’ll put you there. To fill in this empty space, you understand.”

His first instinct was to run, but Jonah struggled to stand on the icy floor. Jasmine and his children flashed into his mind as Clairbourne brought his hands together to form a great icicle.

“On second thought, you won’t be much of a statue with a giant hole in your chest,” Clairbourne laughed.

When the icicle was complete, Clairbourne said,

“I suppose I will just have to use you for crushed ice.”

Jonah raised his bat, ready to deflect the icicle.

Just as Clairbourne launched the icicle, someone grabbed Jonah’s arm and pulled him out of the way, sending the icicle smashing into the wall.

Sir Thomas stepped into the line of fire with Winter’s Light sheathed over his shoulder and the large shield on his arm.

“Montgomery Clairbourne,” Sir Thomas announced. “You have been found guilty for crimes against the Lady Wintervale and her people. Lower your weapon and submit yourself to arrest.”

“I will do nothing of the sort,” Clairbourne said with a tone of haughty disdain. “You are at my mercy. I am not at yours.”

“Very well,” Sir Thomas said.

Sir Thomas raised the large shield and slammed it into the floor just as Clairbourne began throwing a volley of icicles.

Jonah and Scarlett hid behind the stairwell as Sir Thomas held his ground.

“We have to do something,” Scarlett cried. “Thomas is pinned down.”

“I agree but Clairbourne almost killed me twice already. He may be old, but he’s quick with that ice.”

Just then there was a sound at the top of the stairs. Jonah looked up and saw a man entering the room. He wore sunglasses and held a 357 Magnum in his hand.

“Oh this is just great,” Jonah said, moving between the stranger and Scarlett.

Jonah readied himself for a fight as the man came closer.

“Excuse me,” he said, moving past Jonah.

Jonah watched as the man easily stepped across the floor of ice and took his position next to Sir Thomas.

He calmly pointed the 357 at Clairbourne and pulled the trigger.

The barrel exploded as a bullet broke free and sliced through the air, throwing Clairbourne backwards as the bullet struck him in the chest.

Clairbourne slowly got to his knees and looked with surprise at the hole in his chest. Blood poured out of the wound, freezing the moment it touched his skin.

Sir Thomas stood over Clairbourne with his sword Winter’s Light raised.

“Montgomery Clairbourne,” Sir Thomas announced, “you have been found guilty for crimes against the Lady Wintervale and her people. Do you have anything to say before I carry out your execution?”

“Help me!” Clairbourne pleaded.

With one swing of Winter’s Light, Clairbourne’s head fell away and his body froze in place.

A moment later, the stranger’s 357 Magnum fell apart in his hands.

“Who are you?” Scarlett asked, walking up to the stranger.

“One moment,” the stranger said.

He walked over to one of Clairbourne’s victims. As he pulled a sword free from her frozen hands, he respectfully apologized.

Holding the sword into the air, he shuddered as a strange energy ran through his arms.

“Wait a minute,” Jonah said. “Who are you?”

The stranger looked at them and removed his sunglasses.

“I’m Simon Eldridge. I have been searching for this,” he said.

As he slowly lowered the sword, he explained,

“This is Chavari, the Soul Sword.”

“Can we trust you?” Scarlett asked.

Sir Thomas turned to Simon and said,

“Sir Eldridge, the Lady Wintervale told me you would be arriving. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Unsettled: Episode 79

Down at the docks, one lonely street lamp flickered, struggling to light the trash covered boardwalk. Waves splashed against the rotting wood pilings as a thick fog crawled across the pier like a creature awakened from its slumber.

Hidden in the shadows, a handful of vagrants slept under the pier. Though they called Coldwater home, they stayed outside the city limits, mostly keeping to the woods.

For three years now, Shelley Marsh had spent her nights under the pier, careful to disappear each day when the sun rose. She had no use for the rich of Coldwater who appeared at their summer homes every beach season. Coldwater was their playground, and they came to socialize in luxury and extravagance. At sixty-five, Shelley had seen and done everything. After a few bad investments, she had lost her money, her home, and her husband. She was what the world called homeless, but she felt freer than ever. She could go anywhere and do anything she wanted. No one would tell her what to do.

As the pier rested in the arms of the thick fog, waiting for the sun to come up, Shelley snuggled under a dirty blanket and looked out over the water. Just as her eyelids closed in sleep, she was awakened by a faint jingle.

She looked in the direction of the sound and spotted an old dog hurrying from place to place as he sniffed every scrap of paper, every bit of trash, searching for food. His fur was matted and he had a slight limp. Stopping for a moment, he looked toward Shelley with eyes that held no hope.

“Another poor thing tossed out like garbage,” Shelley thought.

As the old dog lapped up water from one of the puddles left behind by the last rain, he suddenly stopped and looked off in the distance. After a moment, he quickly limped away and disappeared into the darkness.

Shelley wondered what had frightened him until she heard the sound of cars approaching. It was several hours before dawn. Too early for people to go to the beach. She snatched up her few possessions and rolled them into her blanket. One or two times each night, the police patrolled the area but never spotted her. She had learned to take cover and disappear fast.

Hidden behind one of the pilings, Shelley watched as three vans pulled up to an empty warehouse near the pier. A couple of large armed men climbed out of two of the vans and began unloading while an old man and young girl slipped out of the third van.

“Hurry! The target will be here soon! Everything must be ready!” the old man barked.

“Daddy?” the girl called as she held onto the old man’s arm.

“Yes, dear,” the father answered.

“When we catch him, will I get to have my fun with him?” she asked.

“Not this time, I’m afraid,” the father said.

“Why not?” the girl asked with pouty lips.

“I just got a call from the client. He wishes to see the target entrapped but unharmed. We are to capture him and deliver him to a secure meeting place in the woods north of town,” the father explained.

Angry at his answer, the girl marched inside the warehouse followed by the old man and his men.

Staying hidden behind the piling, Shelley heard loud noises inside the warehouse just before the men exited and moved all three vans around to the back of the building out of sight. The lights inside the warehouse went out, and everything grew quiet. Had Shelley not known better, she would have thought the place was empty.

Suddenly Shelley knew she was not alone. She looked around, trying to peer into the darkness. Just then a figure stepped out of the fog, moving without a sound. Something about him made Shelley’s skin crawl.

“Is it him?” she wondered.

The figure was dressed in black with a hoodie covering his face. He stood perfectly still for a moment sniffing the air like an animal tracking its prey. Then he turned and looked right at Shelley. She couldn’t see his face, but she knew he was the Black Dog, the demon that had risen from hell in the aftermath of the Coldwater terrorist attacks. Shelley had heard plenty of horror stories of screaming men dragged away from their families, some snatched out of thin air never to be seen again. Her heart raced as the Black Dog stared at her for a moment longer then turned his attention to the warehouse. Shelley wanted to warn the people inside, but she was too terrified to move.

Slowly, the Black Dog seemed to float up to the warehouse and open the door. He slipped inside and silently closed the door behind him.

Suddenly a gun went off in the warehouse followed by screams. Then just as quickly as it sounded, the noise stopped and all was quiet again.

The warehouse door opened and the old man stepped out with his daughter right behind.

“Come on, Daddy! Let me at least see him. I’ve been good,” the girl whined.

“You have been good, honey, but we have a deal with our client. He wants the vigilante alive and unharmed,” the father reminded her.

“Fine!” the girl said, stomping her foot.

“Where is your brother?” the father asked. “I have talked to him on the phone but haven’t seen him.”

The girl shrugged with indifference.

“Call him and tell him to meet us at the woods north of town,” the father instructed.

“All right, Daddy,” the girl said.

A few minutes later, the three vans drove away, leaving the area quiet and empty as before.

As Shelley tried to decide what to do, an unmarked police car pulled up to the warehouse. Shelley had seen enough police cars to recognize them. The car shut off and two detectives exited the vehicle.

“This is the place,” the man said.

“It looks like the kind of place a serial killer would frequent,” the woman commented.

“Let’s take a look inside,” the man said.

Both detectives removed their pistols from their holsters and cautiously approached the warehouse.

Shelley wanted to warn them. She didn’t want anyone hurt.

Afraid to move, she watched as the detectives entered the warehouse.

Shelley decided to watch the street for any movement. If the people in the vans had captured a demon, he might have friends coming to rescue him. The last place she wanted to be was in the middle of a demonic uprising.

After about ten minutes, the detectives came out.

“Well something happened in there,” the woman said.

“Signs of a struggle. Did you see that spot where the ground had been swept?” the man asked. “Looks like someone was taken hostage.”

“I’ll call the captain and tell him we might have another victim,” the woman said.

“It was the Black Dog,” Shelley blurted out as she stepped out from behind the piling.

Both of the detectives turned toward her.

“Why did you do that?” Shelley scolded herself as she shivered in fear.

“Who’s there?” the man asked. “Step into the light.”

With the flashlight’s beam shining in Shelley’s face, the man slowly walked forward. After a moment, he put his gun away and lowered the light.

“It’s okay,” the man said with a soft calming voice. “I’m Detective Donahue. This is my partner Detective Lawrence.”

“What did you mean it was the Black Dog?” Lawrence asked. “Did he do this?”

Shelley slowly shook her head.

“It’s okay,” Donahue reassured her. “You’re not in trouble.”

“She’s terrified,” Lawrence said. “What’s your name?”

“Sh-e-lley,” Shelley said haltingly.

“What did you see?” Donahue asked.

“They took him,” Shelley said.

“They took who?” Donahue asked.

“The Black Dog,” Shelley said. “They set a trap and they took him.”

“Where?” Lawrence asked.

“I heard one of them say the woods north of town,” Shelley said. “But it’s not safe.”

“Why isn’t it safe?” Donahue asked.

Shelley looked around nervously then whispered,

“I saw him. I saw his face. He’s not human. He’s a creature disguised as a human. If he got out, more will come.”

Donahue patted Shelley’s shoulder to calm her.

“The armies of hell will overrun this town and kill anyone they see,” she cried.

The Wintervale Knight: Episode 49

It was the first light of day when Jasmine awoke to a rooster’s crow, greeting the rising sun.

“Why can’t that thing ever shut up!” she growled. “Or at least come with a snooze button!”

Just when her eyelids closed in a blessed silence, the older rooster sounded again followed by a cockerel as he learned the ropes of being a male chicken.

Jasmine’s eyes shot open and she groaned,

“Now there’s two.”

She sat up in bed and looked around.

“Jonah,” she called.

Her husband usually woke her. If he didn’t, she knew he was out somewhere helping someone. Jasmine was thankful that Jonah took on so much responsibility around the village, but she liked waking up with him beside her.

She lay back against the pillow and considered all the ways she was going to kill the neighbor’s roosters. After a few moments, she rose from the bed with a grunt, grabbed her robe off the chair where she had tossed it the night before, and slipped her feet into red fuzzy slippers.

A few minutes later, she was outside on the porch watching Daniel her oldest child play with a group of kids. When she looked out over the village, she saw no sign of Jonah.

“Daniel!” she called out.

Daniel stopped playing at once and ran over to his mother.

“Yes, ma’am?” he said.

“Where’s your daddy?” Jasmine asked.

“I don’t know, Mama. He was gone when I woke up,” Daniel said.

Jasmine nodded and sent Daniel back to his friends. She spotted her father Paul standing opposite the clearing, keeping an eye on the villagers as he always did.

Near the lake, Jasmine spotted Sir Thomas talking to Scarlett. Jasmine liked her. She was the kind of woman who knew what she wanted and went for it. Although she was a little more reckless than Jasmine considered wise, Jasmine liked her fire.

Holding onto the porch railing, Jasmine walked carefully down the steps and headed for Scarlett.

“Scarlett!” Jasmine called as she approached.

“Hey,” Scarlett said with a smile as she turned toward Jasmine.

“Have you seen Jonah?” Jasmine asked.

“Yes. He wanted me to tell you that he went into town and he’ll be safe,” Scarlett said.

The last words sent a shiver down Jasmine’s spine.

Jonah never said he’d be safe if he was just going into town. The words “I’ll be safe” were Jonah’s way of saying he’d be careful.

Jasmine thanked Scarlett and turned toward her father. He was standing in the exact same spot, but now he was watching her.

“Something’s not right,” Jasmine thought.

With all the strength she could muster, Jasmine stomped towards her father.

“Dad!” she called.

“Yes, dear?” Paul replied, staring past her.

“What is going on?” Jasmine asked.

“I’m keeping an eye on things while my pregnant daughter is eyeballing me and asking questions,” Paul answered.

“Dad!” Jasmine pressed.

“I don’t know what else I’m supposed to say,” Paul said.

Frustrated, Jasmine stomped her foot and snapped,

“Daddy!”

“Fine,” Paul said. “I was going to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Jasmine asked.

“Concerned for your safety and the safety of the village, Jonah went to Montgomery Clairbourne’s house.”

Jasmine felt her blood run cold.

“Montgomery Clairbourne works for Bishop, doesn’t he?” Jasmine asked.

When Paul nodded, Jasmine felt faint.

Paul reached out and grabbed her shoulder.

“Thomas,” Jasmine murmured.

* * *

The rising sun slowly broke through the trees, casting its light on the clearing. The wind had ceased to stir the rusted weather vane, and it stood motionless atop the gloomy house of Montgomery Clairbourne. The birds hushed their song that greeted the dawn, and the still forest trees held their breath in the silence.

With a graveyard quiet, fog rolled in from the edge of the forest, wrapping the house in a ghostly grey blanket. Suddenly a black horse carrying two riders galloped through the mist. The horse came to a halt and holding up his head and neck, he patiently waited for the riders to dismount.

Scarlett jumped gently to the ground followed by Sir Thomas carrying Winter’s Light in one hand and a large shield in the other.

“I do not see Jonah,” Sir Thomas said.

Scarlett peered into the fog and after a moment, she said,

“There.”

They hurried over to Jonah’s blue Chrysler. Scarlett checked the interior then backed away from the car.

“I was hoping we would find him before he entered the house,” Scarlett said.

“Why would he venture inside alone with no help?” Sir Thomas asked.

“Because he felt one man could slip in unnoticed,” Scarlett suggested. “Or he’s an imbecile.”

Full of doubt and apprehension, Scarlett walked towards the front door. She couldn’t forget the look of fear in Jasmine’s eyes. If Montgomery Clairbourne was the man of ice in Esma Horlock’s warning, Scarlett hoped she had meant he was cold-blooded and not able to summon ice out of thin air.

“This place is creepy,” Scarlett said, stepping up to the front door.

“It is not so strange a place,” Sir Thomas disagreed. “This dwelling is old, but it is strong and surely has sentimental value to someone.”

Suddenly the front door opened, and a man dressed in a butler’s uniform appeared. He wore a look of panic and frantically motioned to Scarlett and Sir Thomas.

“What’s wrong?” Scarlett asked.

Sir Thomas walked up to the man and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you able to tell us what is wrong, sir?” he asked.

His eyes filled with terror, the man looked at Sir Thomas and shook his head no.

“Then please show us,” Sir Thomas added.

The man turned and walked inside the house as Sir Thomas and Scarlett followed.

Just as the door closed behind them, a branch in the forest cracked beneath the feet of the passing drifter Simon.

He stepped out of the woods with a leather bag slung over one shoulder. Removing his sunglasses, he stared up at the house with copper eyes flashing in the morning sun.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding,” he said. “I’ve come a long way for you.”

As he slipped his sunglasses back on, he said,

“This is going to be one long overdue reunion.”

The Wintervale Knight: Episode 48

Bathing the land with its soft light, the moon lingered in the clearing below, nodding its regard at the occasional passing cloud. At the edge of Grymthorne Forrest, a doe slowly stepped out from the safety of the thick trees. She stopped, smelled the air for a moment and then lowered her head to chew the sweet grass, moving farther and farther away from the safety of the forest.

Suddenly the wind picked up, catching the leaves and sending them into an evening dance as they clattered and clicked like falling drops of rain. The doe instantly lifted her head, snorted, then turned and sprang for the safety of the trees. Perched on an overhanging branch, a disrespectful crow cawed with laughter as the deer disappeared among the trees.

Nearby, the moonlight fell upon the eaves of the ominous house resting like an empty coffin in an open space of the forest. A solitary light dimly burned in the house, and no sound from within was heard. Atop the aging roof, a rusted weather vane turned in answer to the shifting evening wind.

Just beyond the clearing, sat an old 1974 Chrysler, its once pristine blue paint now faded. Three of its hubcaps were missing, and a crack on the windshield ran almost all the way down to meet the hood. In the driver’s seat sat Jonah, looking up at the large house while he tried to ignore the voice in his head telling him to forget his plan and run. For years, he had heard rumors that no one who entered this house escaped.

With gloved hands, Jonah gripped the steering wheel. He opened his fingers, tightened his hold on the wheel then pulled his hands back. He had to be the dumbest man in the world for what he was planning to do. But he was driven by the fear that if something wasn’t done soon, word would travel up the food chain that Dominick was dead. That bit of news would surely bring Bishop Blake to Lichenhurst, and Jonah could not let that happen. Not to the people of Lichenhurst and not to his family.

His father used to say, “When you’ve done everything you can and the problem is still there, you can either wait for a solution or make one.”

He closed his eyes and thought back over the day. Hopefully, he had overlooked another option. A suicide mission is never what you want as your last resort.

* * *

Earlier that morning, Jonah had spent some time outside chopping wood in the fresh air. The woodpile was stacked high, so his labor was nothing more than a relaxation exercise. The axe came down, splitting log after log as Jonah struggled to settle his mind. After an hour, he grabbed his towel and wiped the sweat from his face. This exercise wasn’t working. A question lingered, and he knew that only one person could answer it.

Scarlett had returned late from her visit with Belle at the hospital, and she was still asleep. Jonah didn’t want to wake her, but the question was nagging at him. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door to Scarlett’s cabin opened and she stepped out. Jonah quickly stuck the axe in the log, draped a towel around his shoulders and walked over to Scarlett.

“Scarlett!” he called out.

Still a little groggy from her heavy sleep, Scarlett turned toward him.

“Hey,” she greeted.

“Earlier when we were speaking to Esma,” Jonah said, getting right to the point, “she mentioned the man of ice, and you asked if she was talking about Clairbourne. Remember?”

Scarlett thought for a moment then said,

“Yea. I remember.”

“Why did you think she was talking about Clairbourne?” Jonah asked.

Scarlett stopped to yawn and stretch.

“Before John’s death, he and Belle took me to a party for the mayor. At least I think it was for the mayor. Anyway, while I was there, I started talking to Dominick. This was before I knew who and what he was. We had exchanged only a few words when Montgomery Clairbourne interrupted us. He took Dominick aside, talked to him, and then left the party. I don’t know what they talked about, but I’ve seen my share of bosses giving orders and Clairbourne looked like he was giving Dominick some orders. When Ms. Horlock made that remark about the man of ice, I just figured she was being symbolic. So I guessed Clairbourne.”

Scarlett looked at Jonah for a moment then added,

“You think she was being literal with her man of ice comment?”

“It’s possible,” Jonah said. “I’ve seen a lot of strange things since moving here.”

“Thanks, Scarlett. I need to take care of something. If Jasmine wants to know where I am, just tell her I went into town and I’ll be careful.”

* * *

Jonah opened the trunk of his Chrysler and grabbed a bag. Unzipping it, he pulled it open and started filling it with supplies. Although he didn’t like guns, he picked up one anyway and dropped it into the bag. When he was certain he had everything he might need, he zipped up the bag and tossed it into the trunk, along with his bat and case.

Just as he locked the trunk, his father-in-law Paul appeared.

“Sir,” Jonah said.

Over the years, Jonah had learned that the best way not to get on his father-in-law’s bad side was to avoid talking directly to him. He knew to keep his answers short and simple and always let Paul make the first move.

“Where are you going?” Paul asked.

“Just into town, sir,” Jonah said.

Paul stepped out from in front of the Chrysler and came up beside Jonah.

“You may not be my favorite person,” Paul said, “but you’re a father. You’ll understand what I’m about to say.”

Jonah nodded.

“She’s my little girl, and no one will ever be good enough for her,” Paul said.

Jonah nodded again.

Taking a moment to choose his words carefully, he continued.

“But she’s happy with you, content. You may not be the one I would have picked for her, but you’re the one she picked.”

Silence sat heavy in the garage as Jonah waited for Paul to finish.

After a long pause, he asked,

“Why are you telling me this, sir?”

“Because I know what you’re planning, and I know that if you die, you’ll break her heart. I can’t let that happen. She means too much to me,” Paul explained.

Jonah panicked for a moment then composed himself.

“This has to be done, Paul. Someone out there knows what happened to Dominick, and if I don’t get ahead of it, it’ll bring the wolf to our doorstep.”

Jonah paused then added, “The doorstep of my wife and children.”

He stared hard into Paul’s eyes and declared,

“I can’t let that happen. If they die, it will be the end of me.”

Jonah held Paul’s gaze for a moment longer then said,

“You’re a father. You understand.”

Without a word, Paul slowly stepped aside.

Jonah climbed into his Chrysler and started the engine.

“Sunup is in two hours,” Paul said. “You have until then before I tell Jasmine.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jonah said, pulling away.

* * *

Jonah opened his eyes and looked around. He had been sitting in the Chrysler at the edge of Clairbourne’s property for the last thirty minutes, building up courage to get out of the car. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a photo of Jasmine, taken right after Daniel was born. His eyes filled with tears as he tucked the photo away then took several quick breaths and slapped his face.

“Let’s get this over with,” he said, climbing out of the car.

He walked around to the back of the Chrysler and opened the truck. Grabbing the bag, he slipped it over his shoulder and pulled his bat from its case.

Quietly closing the trunk, he studied Clairbourne’s house, hoping no one was home.

“This is probably the most foolhardy thing you’ve ever done,” Jonah scolded himself. “You’re sneaking into the devil’s house hoping he doesn’t want to dance.”

As he pushed away the voice of doubt, he slowly walked up to Clairbourne’s house, careful to stay in the shadows.

The Wintervale Knight: Episode 47

Calvin Ross and his wife Bonnie were the proud owners of Sunflower Pawn and Gun that had opened twenty-five years ago. The shop had been established by Todd Russell, Calvin’s father-in-law, but when he passed, Bonnie convinced Calvin to take over management of the place.

At first it had been strange for Calvin to settle down and run a pawnshop in the quiet little tourist town of Blackrock. Growing up with movies like Easy Rider and watching as his father built a collection of motorcycles, he had imagined a different sort of life. But after a few months, Calvin settled into the job and began to enjoy the rush of bargaining with people. The first few years, he wore a long-sleeved black shirt with matching leather vest. But now that he was older and had mellowed out, he put on a few pounds, grew a long beard, and wore whatever T-shirt he grabbed on his way out the door. He stopped glaring at the customers and often jokingly offered to buy their knickknacks. Bonnie just rolled her eyes and returned to whatever she was doing.

Seven years ago, they had bought a Rottweiler and named her Skylar. She had a drooling problem and snored when she slept, but she was a good guard dog and had the sweetest personality Calvin had even seen. Anytime someone sketchy walked into the shop, Skylar would growl and stand between the customer and Calvin. Bonnie and Calvin always said,

“You meet some interesting characters in this business!”

Today Calvin was busy wiping down the counter to the rhythm of a Steve Winwood song playing in the background. Bonnie was asleep in her recliner with snoring Skylar nuzzled up against her.

Suddenly the radio popped and shut off. Calvin cursed and walked over to fix it.

“Don’t tell me this dang thing is broken already,” he said.

Skylar began growling with long, deep rumbles.

When Calvin turned, he saw that Skylar was staring at the front door. She was on her feet and her fur was standing up.

“What is it, girl?” Calvin asked.

When Skylar growled and snorted at the door, Calvin turned and looked. The front door was made of bars on glass, and between the bars Calvin could see a man across the street facing the shop. He wore sunglasses, and despite the wind outside, his black hair did not move.

Calvin felt a chill run down his spine as the man stood still and stared at the front door.

“Bonnie,” Calvin called out without removing his eyes from the man.

Bonnie grunted but didn’t wake.

Calvin slowly reached for the pistol he had tucked in his belt.

“Is he staring at me?” Calvin asked.

A truck passed, blocking Calvin’s view of the man. He half expected the man to be gone when the truck passed, but he was in the same place staring at the shop.

Calvin felt increasingly uneasy but wasn’t sure why.

“Bonnie!” Calvin snapped.

“What?” Bonnie asked, slowly climbing out of her chair.

“Look,” Calvin said, not taking his eyes off the man.

Bonnie rubbed her eyes and asked,

“What am I looking at?”

Before Calvin could answer Bonnie said,

“Oh.”

“Who is that?” Bonnie asked.

“I’ve seen horror movies,” Calvin said, “and I think the proper question should be what is that?”

Skylar growled again.

Just as Bonnie reached down to settle the Rottweiler, the man stepped off the curb and started walking toward the shop.

Skylar yelped and ran off to hide in the back room.

Cars were passing the man as though he wasn’t there.

“Babe,” Calvin said, “run for it while I lock the door.”

Shoving Bonnie into the back room, he closed the door and ran to lock the front door.

But when he tried the lock, it wouldn’t turn.

“Of all the times to jam!” he said.

As the man got closer, Calvin yelled out,

“I love you, babe!”

When the man placed a hand on the door, Calvin felt a pop of static electricity. He jerked his hand back and the man pushed open the door.

Retreating to the counter, Calvin pulled the pistol from his belt just as the stranger entered the pawnshop.

“I don’t want no trouble, mister,” Calvin said, taking aim at the strange man.

“And I don’t want to be shot,” the man said, staying by the front door. “Perhaps we can reach some sort of an agreement.”

“What are you?” Calvin asked.

The man carefully slipped a guitar strap off his shoulder and took off his sunglasses.

“Just a drifter,” he said.

Calvin noticed that he had unnatural copper eyes that almost glowed.

“I just want to do a little business,” the man said.

“My name is Simon. And you are?” Simon asked.

His hands trembling, Calvin managed to answer, “Calvin.”

“Excellent. Calvin, I would like to sell a few things if that’s okay with you,” Simon said.

Calvin just nodded.

Simon paused then asked,

“Wouldn’t this be a lot easier without the gun?”

Not comfortable with the idea, Calvin hesitated but finally lowered his gun.

Simon picked up his bag and his guitar and walked over to the counter.

“I have this guitar and some things in my bag. It’s all for sale,” Simon said.

Calvin put the gun away and looked over the items that Simon was offering.

He saw that the guitar, though a bit old, was good quality. In the bag, the man had a few old games, some movies, a couple of mobile phones, two cameras and a handful of old coins.

“Any of this stolen?” Calvin asked. “I don’t buy stolen goods.”

“I promise nothing is stolen,” Simon said. “Cross my heart.”

Calvin always haggled over the price with customers. It was his favorite part of the job. But this stranger made him uncomfortable. He just wanted to get him out of his shop, so he quickly checked everything over and offered a price.

“Excellent,” Simon said.

When Calvin handed Simon the cash, he offered a receipt.

“Not necessary,” Simon said. “I’m not coming back for these.”

Simon stuffed the cash in his pocket but then instead of leaving, he began looking around.

He picked out a folding knife and an MP3 player.

On the far end of the case was an old 357 Magnum. It had been there almost since the shop opened.

“How much?” Simon asked.

Calvin walked over and took the weapon out of the case. It was old and rusty. Someone had carved a butterfly into the handle.

“It doesn’t work,” Calvin said. “Never worked.”

Simon looked at it and said,

“Sometimes what’s dead isn’t dead.”

He looked up at Calvin and added,

“It’s just asleep.”

Calvin felt another shiver run down his spine as the lights flickered.

“Take it,” Calvin said, hoping the man would leave.

“Thank you,” Simon said with a smile.

He took the 357, bought a few paperbacks and packed everything into his bag. Slinging the leather bag over his shoulder, he turned to leave.

Calvin knew he should just let the man leave, but his curiosity got the better of him.

Grabbing his pistol, he shouted, “What are you?”

Simon opened the door halfway and turned to face Calvin. He looked over his sunglasses and said,

“You know the saying. Never open the door to a lesser evil for a greater one might get in.”

When Simon’s copper eyes flashed for a moment, Calvin dropped the pistol.

Then Simon smiled, pushed his glasses up and said,

“Good luck to you, shopkeep.”

The door closed and Calvin watched as Simon walked away.

The Wintervale Knight: Episode 46

If Brandy Gilmore hadn’t been so focused on the map of Grymthorne Forest, she might have noticed the elegance of her surroundings. The walls were polished red oak and a large fireplace to her right held a roaring fire that warmed the room. Two couches had been positioned to create different sitting areas, and a group of chairs was arranged around a large polished table. Montgomery Clairbourne smiled and offered Brandy an elaborate high backed red velvet chair.

In a matter of seconds, Brandy had removed her laptop from its bag, turned it on, and plugged in a small flash drive.

“My brother Devin and I have been working for years chronicling the history of the Grymthorne Forest. We’ve checked records and talked with descendants of the original settlers. Devin even got a drone license so he could fly over and record the layout of the forest,” Brandy bragged.

“That is impressive,” Clairbourne said. “And have you discovered anything unusual in your adventures?”

“We found the location of the Emerald Hotel, but most of it is overgrown with the forest. We tried to get in but couldn’t. The doors are sealed shut,” Brandy explained.

Brandy scrolled through her notes for a moment then said,

“We haven’t been able to reach the Wintervale Asylum yet, but I know there has to be a way.”

Just then the butler entered the room carrying a silver tray with a tea set and scones.

“May I offer you some tea?” Clairbourne asked. “It does wonders to help warm me.”

“You’re cold?” Brandy asked, looking at the fire.

“Poor circulation,” Clairbourne said with a smile. “I’m always cold.”

Brandy took a cup of tea and reached for a scone.

“You know what’s weird?” Devin asked. “It feels like every time we think we’ve found a new passage through the forest, it shifts.”

“Shifts?” Clairbourne asked.

“Yes,” Brandy said. “We’ll mark the trail on the map then come back in the morning and the trail is gone. The trees seemingly grow up overnight.”

“That is unusual,” Clairbourne said.

“But that’s not the strangest thing we found,” Brandy said.

“What did you find?” Clairbourne asked.

“Sis,” Devin warned, “let’s not give everything away.”

“I’m not,” Brandy defended.

She took a moment to sip her tea as her hands shook with excitement.

“So what did you find?” Clairbourne asked.

“You’ll love it,” Brandy said. “I left it in the car. Let me go get it.”

“Sis!” Devin called out, but Brandy was already out of the room.

Growing uncomfortable, Devin sat quietly and waited for his sister to return. After a few minutes had passed, he stood to go after her just as she entered the room.

“Sorry it took so long,” Brandy said. “This place is so big that I got turned around.”

She carried something wrapped in a long piece of course, rough fabric tied with two thin strands of rope. Carefully resting it on the great table, she placed her hands on the bundle and smiled excitedly.

“We found this deep in the forest, well off the path. I don’t know how it got there, but from the looks of it, it’s been there a long time. The dirt had begun to grow over it, as if the earth was taking it back.

Brandy untied the two ropes then said,

“This is sackcloth. I think it’s been like almost two centuries since anyone has used sackcloth.”

She slowly and carefully opened the cloth to reveal a cruciform sword of strength and beauty. Its double-edged blade glimmered in the light. The grip was bound in black leather, and in the pommel was embedded a black stone.

“Who knows how long this sword has been buried by a tree in the forest, but it looks like it’s in perfect condition. The blade is still sharp,” Brandy said.

Clairbourne felt uneasy as he stared at the sword. He quickly changed the subject to what he wanted.

“Can you show me on the map where you found this?” he asked.

“Of course,” Brandy said, moving away from the sword.

“That’s enough,” Devin insisted.

He rose from the couch and stepped between Brandy and Clairbourne.

“Sir, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but my sister is a little too trustworthy. The only people who are allowed to see the map before it’s published are Brandy, me and our publisher.”

Devin turned away from Clairbourne to his sister.

“Brandy, get our stuff. This guy hasn’t helped us. All he wants is the map.”

“Knock it off, Dev,” Brandy protested.

“You shouldn’t get upset with your brother,” Clairbourne said. “He is only looking out for you.”

Clairbourne stood behind Devin and placed his left hand on Devin’s shoulder.

“After all, he is right.”

“What?” Brandy asked.

Suddenly a two-foot-long icicle exploded from Devin’s chest.

Brandy screamed in horror as Devin gasped and turned into solid ice.

Clairbourne looked over Devin’s shoulder and said,

“I was planning to kill you eventually, but your brother’s actions forced me to speed up my timetable.”

He pushed over Devin’s frozen body, and Brandy watched in shock as her brother’s body shattered on the polished red oak floor.

Unable to move, Brandy looked up at Clairbourne.

“Now please give me that map,” he coolly said.

Brandy glanced over at the laptop and saw that the flash drive, which contained the map file, was still plugged in. She quickly grabbed the drive and the sword just as an icicle eight inches long appeared in front of Clairbourne’s hand. When he shot it out at her, she brought up the sword and shattered the icicle.

Terrified, Brandy ran from the room.

As Clairbourne watched her run away, he said,

“Interesting.”

* * *

Brandy fled through the long narrow halls trying desperately to remember the way out. When the hall ended, she looked left then right but all the passages looked identical. All she knew is that she had to keep moving and find a way out.

Suddenly from her right, Brandy saw the butler running towards her. She screamed and flew down the hall to her left. She knew that Clairbourne had to be right behind the butler. Up ahead at the end of the hall was a door. She turned the knob and pulled the door open, slamming it shut behind her. Before her was a shadowed staircase leading down. In her panic, she had forgotten to grab her phone, so she slowly made her way down the stairs to a door. But when she touched the knob, she pulled back her hand. The metal was ice cold.

Brandy knew she couldn’t go back, so she slowly opened the door, stepped inside, and quietly closed the door behind her. The room was freezing, and the floor was slippery. She felt around for a light switch but couldn’t find one. Keeping her hand on the wall, she slowly stepped forward a few feet before coming to a corner.

Suddenly the lights came on. Brandy closed her eyes against the bright light until they slowly adjusted. When she looked around, she screamed in terror. She was in a giant freezer. Instead of hanging slabs of meat, the room was filled with frozen people, each with a look of horror on their face.

“I see you found my gallery,” Clairbourne said.

“Please let me go,” Brandy begged, holding the sword up in front of her.

Clairbourne sighed and said,

“I wish it were that easy. All I really want is the map. There is something in the woods, something I must kill. But it hides from me. It is as though the forest is protecting it. You understand what I’m saying. You yourself have tried to find the Wintervale Asylum.”

“Why the Wintervale Asylum?” Brandy asked.

Before he answered, Brandy felt her feet growing numb with cold. She looked down and saw that her feet were turning blue as ice and frost covered them.

Clairbourne walked over to her and said,

“The Wintervale Asylum is important because it is where the Wintervale knight resides. But you must not worry about that anymore.”

A moment later and Brandy was frozen solid, still holding up the sword.

Clairbourne looked at the sword, unaffected by the cold, and said,

“You are quite unusual. When this is over, I must come back here and see what makes you so unique.”

Suddenly the door burst open as a gust of wind tore through the room.

“What was that?” Clairbourne asked.

After he left the room to investigate, a small blue butterfly fluttered through the door, crossed the room, and gently landed on the sword. For a moment, it rested on the sword’s blade, slowly opening and closing its wings against the cold.

The Wintervale Knight: Episode 45

Feeling guilty for neglecting her best friend, Scarlett climbed into the hospital elevator and thought about what she could say to encourage Belle. As she rode the elevator up to Belle’s floor, she scolded herself for putting off visiting her friend so long. Even though Belle was in a coma, she still should have come sooner. She had promised she would find out who was responsible for Belle’s condition and John’s death. So far, Dominick Nightbridge was the only person she had been able to connect to the crimes. In the back of her mind, Scarlett knew it was silly to think Belle would be disappointed in her, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of dread at seeing her.

When the elevator dinged and the doors opened, Scarlett steeled herself for her visit with Belle. She noticed that the halls were fairly quiet as nurses pushed mobile medical carts, orderlies transported patients, and physicians moved about the floor, checking on their patients. Scarlett went to the nurses’ desk, signed her name on the visitor roster, and walked back to Belle’s room.

Taking a deep breath, she reached out and opened the door.

The first thing Scarlett noticed was that the doctor examining Belle was not Dr. Shrivastav, the doctor she had seen when she first visited. She almost said something but stopped herself when she remembered that Dr. Shrivastav did not work at this hospital. He saw patients at a small field clinic in Lichenhurst.

When the doctor saw Scarlett, he smiled at her and said,

“Hello. I’m Dr. Manning.”

“Hi,” Scarlett said.

“I’m just checking her vitals,” Dr. Manning said. “Are you family?”

“Not exactly,” Scarlett said. “We were like sisters.”

Keeping her eyes on the doctor, Scarlett walked over to Belle’s side.

“I was there when she was attacked.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but good news. She is doing remarkably well,” Dr. Manning said.

Scarlett stopped when she saw Belle.

Her bandages had been removed and she looked far better than she had when she was first admitted. Her scars were gone, the burn marks had disappeared, and she looked pregnant.

“What happened?” Scarlett asked.

“What do you mean?” Dr. Manning asked.

“She looks a hundred times better than when she was admitted. And when did she get pregnant?” Scarlett asked.

Looking to Dr. Manning, she added,

“How long have I been gone?”

“I don’t know that,” Dr. Manning said, “but I can tell you that Mrs. Wilde has been a patient here for about a month. When she came in, she was about three months pregnant and was suffering third degree burns over eighty to ninety percent of her body. Given what happened to her, I am surprised the baby survived. But it is healthy and strong. Most of the damaged tissue is gone now. She has healed remarkably well. It generally takes years for large area burn wounds like hers to heal. “

Scarlett just stared at Belle in disbelief.

“How is this possible?” Scarlett asked.

“I’m afraid I don’t have that answer. Very unusual,” Dr. Manning said. “We have been keeping a close eye on her, and she is healing rapidly. In addition to her burns, she had a few cracked ribs and a broken arm. All healed. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Dr. Manning slipped his pen in his pocket and asked,

“Do you know whom her next of kin is? We aren’t having any luck finding anyone.”

“I don’t know. Her parents have been dead for years, and her husband just recently died,” Scarlett said, lightly touching Belle’s arm.

“If you have any other questions, please let me know,” Scarlett said.

“Could I get your phone number?” Dr. Manning asked.

“I don’t have a phone,” Scarlett mumbled.

“Then I’ll just leave a message for you at the front desk. What is your name?” Dr. Manning asked.

“Scarlett,” she answered.

As Dr. Manning turned to go, Scarlett said,

“Thank you, doctor.”

“You are quite welcome.”

When the doctor closed the door behind him, Scarlett stared at Belle and asked,

“What is happening to you?”

* * *

Brandy Paige stepped out of the Jeep and stared in wonder at the old house while her brother Devin got the gear out of the back seat.

“This place is awesome!” she exclaimed.

“It’s an old house. What’s awesome about it?” Devin asked.

“This isn’t just some old house,” Brandy said.

“German migrants first settled Black Rock in 1879, and the Grymthorne Forest was old even then. The original settlers called Grymthorne “der böse Wald” which means the evil forest. That same year, the Grey Ridge Mine was established and for a time was accessible only by horse. I can’t find a record of this house anywhere, but based on its architecture, it could be one of the original settler homes.”

Devin closed the car door and walked over to his sister. Looking up at the old house, he asked,

“I’ve been meaning to ask you. I’m not as fluent in German as you are, but didn’t the original settlers call the town Schwarze Steine which translates to Black Stones?”

“Yes, but in 1914, after Archduke Ferdinand was murdered, the town council agreed to change the name from Schwarze Steine to Black Rock to make it sound more American.”

Brandy walked up the stone pathway to the front door and knocked twice as she continued.

“Then later that year in November, the Grey Ridge Mine flooded and collapsed, killing twenty-five miners.”

She turned to Devin and said, “Since then, one hundred eighty people have died in Grymthorne Forrest, and even more have gone missing.”

“Why are you interested in such bizarre things?” Devin asked.

Ignoring her brother’s comment, Brandy said,

“The guy who owns this house is going to let us look over the records he has. I told him we were doing a documentary on the history of the Grymthorne Forest. I even told him we almost have it completely mapped out.”

“You did what?” Devin asked.

“Grymthorne is over fifty-one square miles of dense forest. No one has been able to map all of it, and besides it was the only way I could get him to agree to meet us,” Brandy said.

“I don’t know about this, sis,” Devin said. “We don’t know anything about this guy.”

“It’ll be fine. Don’t worry,” Brandy replied.

Suddenly the front door of the house opened and a butler appeared.

“Hi,” Brandy greeted.

The butler stood very still and spoke not a word.

“I’m Brandy Gilmore, and this is my brother Devin. We were hoping to speak with Mr. Clairbourne.”

At the mention of Clairbourne’s name, the butler’s eyes grew wide with fear. Still he didn’t speak.

Brandy saw his eyes and asked,

“Is everything okay?”

“Of course,” a man said as he approached.

“Everything is perfectly fine,” he said, stepping past the butler.

When the old man saw Brandy and Devin, he stood tall and smiled.

“I am Montgomery Clairbourne, and I welcome you into my home.”

“Thank you so much. Mr. Clairbourne,” Brandy said.

Clairbourne stepped aside and let Brandy enter.

“You are the two who have been studying the Grymthorne Forrest?” he asked.

“We are,” Brandy said, “and we would love your help.”

Clairbourne took Brandy by the arm and escorted her farther into the house saying,

“It will be my pleasure to assist you.”

“I’ll get our gear,” Devin complained. “You go ahead.”

After he gathered their gear, Devin stepped past the threshold. Suddenly the butler grabbed his arm. When he looked at the butler for an explanation, he saw that the man was terrified.

“What is it?” Devin asked.

The butler didn’t speak but frowned and shook his head.

“What’s wrong?” Devin pressed.

“Devin?” Brandy called from inside the house. “You coming?”

“Be right there,” Devin said.

“Let me go!” Devin demanded, twisting his arm free.

After adjusting the gear on his shoulder, he said,

“Weirdo!”

Then he walked inside the house, leaving the butler behind.

The Wintervale Knight: Episode 44

Brother Ian sat at a table outside Otto’s Bakery. Accordion polka music, a trademark of Otto’s, drifted through the air, mingling with the fragrance of cinnamon and freshly baked bread. Ian watched as street performers captivated the tourists. One performer amazed a group of children with his magic tricks while another put on a marionette show. An elderly couple, holding hands, swayed to the polka music as they watched the puppets. The locals enjoyed a cup of coffee and watched their children gobble up rich pastries then play with Otto’s golden retriever and beagle. It was a peaceful sight for Ian. Whenever he felt ill at ease about Bishop Blake and his network of minions poisoning the simple town of Blackrock, he would escape to Otto’s bakery and remember why this town was worth saving.

Today he was here for another reason.

Sheriff Hector walked up to Otto’s serving window and ordered a cup of coffee and a slice of apple pie. After he paid, he took his order and headed over to Ian’s table.

Positioning a paper napkin on his lap, he reached for his fork but paused before cutting a piece of the warm pie. Looking up at Ian, he said,

“Before I have any of this good pie, perhaps you should tell me why you wanted to meet here,” Hector said.

Ian thought for a moment, considering what he wanted to say, then asked,

“Do you ever think about leaving Blackrock?”

Hector put down his fork and said,

“What’s wrong?”

“I look at the evil that has infested this town, and sometimes I wonder if Blackrock is beyond saving,” Ian said. “Why do you stay?”

Hector twisted the silver wedding ring on his finger, and after a moment answered,

“Pearl loved this place. She always wanted to raise kids here.”

Hector cut off a forkful of apple pie and chewed it for a moment.

“After the accident, when the doctor said we couldn’t have kids, she still wanted to stay,” Hector said. “She was so excited at the idea of adopting.”

He put down the fork and took a sip of the steaming coffee, wiped his mouth, and added,

“Even after she was diagnosed, she didn’t lose her love for this town.”

The sadness in his eyes showed the depth of his pain.

“No matter how many times she was beaten down, my girl always saw the magic in this old town. It never stopped amazing her,” Hector said.

Hector wiped at his eyes then cut off another piece of pie. For a moment, he chewed with a faraway look then turned his attention to Ian and said,

“Why do you ask?”

Suddenly Otto’s polka music stopped.

Hector looked over at Otto’s serving window.

“That’s strange. I’ve never heard Otto’s music stop when this bakery is open.”

A cold wind blew through the courtyard, lifting paper plates and cups and twirling them through the air. Customers braced themselves against the sudden wind, trying to wrap their clothes tighter.

“Strange,” Hector repeated.

When Ian didn’t respond, Hector looked back at him and saw that he was staring at something across the street.

“What is it?” Hector asked.

“Look,” Ian said.

Across the street was a traveler with a leather bag over his shoulder and a guitar case over his back. He stood perfectly still, the sudden wind barely lifting his black hair. He wore a gray Henley over faded blue jeans tucked into scuffed brown boots. A pair of mirrored aviator glasses concealed his eyes.

Hector felt an eerie chill as the man turned his head and began staring at him.

“Hector,” Ian said.

“I see him,” Hector replied.

“No,” Ian replied. “Look around us.”

Hector tore his eyes away from the strange man and looked. One of Otto’s dogs was baring his teeth while the other one was desperately trying to get inside the bakery. The neighborhood cats had their backs up with bristling fur.

Ian listened for a moment then said,

“There’s no sound.”

“Yeah the music stopped,” Hector said, turning his eyes back to the man.

“No. Listen!” Ian said.

Hector realized he heard nothing. No conversations, no traffic noise, no bird songs. Nothing.

The man stayed for a moment longer then nodded at Hector, turned and slowly walked away.

Hector kept his eyes on the man until he turned the corner.

As soon as the traveler was out of sight, the cold wind dissipated. The polka music started, the dogs and cats relaxed, and the birds began to sing. Except for Hector and Ian, no one seemed aware of what had just happened.

“Ian,” Hector asked, “who was that?”

Ian took a moment then said,

“This is Blackrock, Hector. I feel the more appropriate question is what was that?”

Hector pushed his pie across the table to Ian and said,

“I’m going to keep an eye on him.”

Just as he stood up to leave, Ian caught him.

“Be careful, my friend,” Ian said.

“I will be,” Hector promised.

“There is something unnatural about that man. Like nothing I have ever seen,” Ian said.

Ian handed Hector a napkin with something written on it and said,

“Exercise caution, and call Jonah the second you suspect trouble.”

Ian turned and hurried away.

Hector looked down at the napkin and read 1 Peter 5:8.

He tucked the napkin into his pocket, got into his truck, and drove slowly down the road in the direction the man had disappeared.

When he reached the corner, he slowed. Expecting to see destruction and chaos in the traveler’s wake, Hector readied himself and made the turn.

The man had disappeared. People were moving back and forth without a care.

Hector finished the turn and followed the road, glancing down each street, but he saw no sign of the man or his having passed through.

Pulling his truck to a stop, Hector put it in park and said,

“What in the world? How can one man disappear without a trace?”

With the engine idling, Hector was about to drive away when he remembered Ian’s note on the napkin.

He pulled it out of his pocket and read the note again. 1 Peter 5:8.

Opening up his phone, he searched for the chapter and verse that Ian had given him.

When he saw the verse, his hand began to tremble and he dropped the phone.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he picked up his phone and forced himself to read the words aloud.

“Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.”

Hector closed his phone and gripped the steering wheel with both hands.

“What in the world has come to this town?” he asked.