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.”

Dragon Fire: Episode 165

Sunbeams streamed in through the large open windows of the meeting hall. Across the stone floor, long oak tables were positioned at each wall, and in the center of the great room rested two round tables where sat the royal council.

Seated at one of the tables, Aric patiently waited as eight of the twelve council members discussed the state of the kingdom and the affairs of King Alidus. The king usually attended these meetings, but after another night of sleepless rest, he had sent Aric in his place.

“Rumors of the king’s sleeplessness are reaching the ears of the people,” Lord Callius announced.

“The king has not slept peacefully since Zulagareth was destroyed and the kingdom cleansed,” Lord Valnari added.

“I have heard reports of a growing threat in the east,” Lord Callius warned, “of an army that marches towards Ethion. It seems it grows every day and seeks only to destroy the kingdom.”

“We must make ready!” Lord Valnari demanded.

“The king’s army can repel any force! The walls of Ethion have not fallen since Lord Ashblood reclaimed it from the Children of Dusk,” Lord Odival reminded them.

“But a kingdom may fall when the people lose faith in their king,” Lord Penicus pointed out.

“There must be something that King Alidus can do to assure the people of his leadership,” Lord Odival said.

“It has been two seasons since young Prince Alidus was crowned King of Ethion. The people are beginning to fear for their safety,” Lord Valnari said. “We must assure the people that their king has not gone mad but is in fact more dedicated to their safety and protection than ever before.”

The oldest of the council pounded his fist on the table until the other members grew quiet and turned to listen.

Brushing aside a strand of white hair, he ran a finger through his long beard as he peered at the council with his one good eye.

“Lord Sectivius,” Aric said, “if you have something you wish to say, we are listening.”

Lord Sectivius stood and said,

“I have been lord over my people and ruler of Eastcliff at the base of the Hammerstrom Mountains long before any of you were born. When the king’s subjects grow uneasy with the head that wears the crown, one simple observance always unites them.”

The other lords at the table waited for Lord Sectivius to continue.

“The Ceremony of Avenia,” Lord Sectivius said.

A silence hung in the air for a moment before the members began to voice their objection.

“The king is too young!” Lord Odival insisted.

“The people will not be pacified so easily!” Lord Callius shouted.

“What if the king is killed by this invading army or by an assassin’s blade before the ceremony is complete? The kingdom will be without a ruler!” Lord Valnari warned.

“My lords!” Lord Sectivius yelled. “My lords!”

Lord Sectivius pounded on the table until silence prevailed.

“The Ceremony of Avenia has always brought the people together in joy, uniting them under the king’s rule. To face these rumors of an invading army, we must unite the people!” Lord Sectivius insisted.

Finally, Aric asked,

“What is the Ceremony of Avenia?”

“The king chooses a queen. At the conclusion of the marriage ceremony, he changes his name to show his loyalty to Ethion and her people, as well as the lands within her borders,” Lord Sectivius explained.

Aric considered this for a moment then said,

“I will consult with Alidus. In the meantime, I must ride to Acimeth and speak to the king about this invading army.”

“Forgive me,” Lord Jorixius said. “I have been silent until now, but I must protest. Why do we entertain the king’s cousin? If I may add, he was fathered by Nesmoru who at one point tried to take control of the city!”

“Why must we entertain anything he says?” he continued.

Aric whistled and answered,

“My father was a traitor. He raped my mother and left her to die. This is true. But when he murdered King Lanidus and seized the throne, how many of you tried to stop him?”

The council grew quiet.

“I am the only one at this table whom King Alidus trusts completely,” Aric said.

Suddenly his cougar Tolora hopped up onto the table and walked around in a circle before settling down in the center with a wide yawn, showing the council what real teeth looked like.

“If that is a problem, you are free to speak with my advisor,” Aric added.

Most of the council members watched Tolora with concern, but Lord Sectivius was unimpressed.

“Leave me to speak with the duke alone,” Lord Sectivius said.

The other council members moved away from the table and hurried out of the room.

Lord Sectivius reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of dried meat. Tolora caught the scent and at once trotted over to him. As Lord Sectivius fed her the meat, he gently stroked her soft fur.

“You spoil her,” Aric said.

“She is a beautiful creature,” Lord Sectivius replied, “and because she has to put up with you, she deserves to be spoiled.”

“You can come out now, boy,” Lord Sectivius said.

King Alidus stepped out from one of the darkened doorways.

“I am king now,” Alidus said. “You cannot call me boy.”

Lord Sectivius looked at Alidus and said, “I knew your mother when she was younger than you. I will call you whatever pleases me.”

“Do you think the ceremony will work?” Alidus asked.

“It always has,” Lord Sectivius said.

Alidus considered for a good while then finally said,

“Let us proceed then. My people need to know I am dedicated to keeping my father’s kingdom strong. I will not falter in my responsibility.”

“I will see to preparations,” Lord Sectivius informed.

“And I will travel to Acimeth to speak with the king about rumors of this army,” Aric said.

“You will not travel alone,” Alidus said. “I wish to know what threatens my kingdom.”

“While you are away, King Alidus, I shall protect the throne,” Lord Sectivius promised.

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.”

Dragon Fire: Episode 164

The wind picked up, embracing the mighty oaks and sending their leafy branches into a rhythmic sway. Suddenly, a shower of leaves broke free to perform elegant pirouettes in perfect unison.

In the distance, a light rumble sounded just as a small hand wrapped its fingers around one of the lower branches. It was the hand of Rilar, a small boy from the nearby city of Oakmouth. His father worked as a castle guard. Rilar found life in the city boring. Even the castle grounds failed to amuse him. He found his joy in escaping from the castle past the guards at the city perimeter into the woods to climb the great trees. His favorite was a large oak taller than any other in the forest. Ever since he could reach the lowest branch, he had climbed up to the top and looked out over the land. On a clear day, he could even see as far as the city of Ethion.

His thoughts always drifted into daydreams of great adventures fighting monsters, slaying dragons, and rescuing a beautiful princess. When he felt a stirring in his shirt, he laughed as Emer his pet lizard crawled out and jumped onto his shoulder.

Rilar smiled at Emer and said,

“Look at all of it. One day I will be a great warrior. I will slay monsters and dragons. The king of Ethion will welcome me to his court where I will be praised as a hero.”

Emer looked up at Rilar.

“Do not worry,” Rilar said. “I will bring you with me.”

Rilar smiled at the thought as he watched the trees sway in the wind and rain.

Suddenly, he heard the voice of a young maiden calling him.

Rilar tucked his feet up and pressed himself against the tree as hard as he could.

“Rilar,” the maiden called again.

Rilar did not stir.

The maiden kept calling out as she wandered through the trees. Soon she was right beneath the tree where Rilar was hidden. After a few moments, the maiden grew quiet and Rilar heard only the wind and rain. Turning to Emer, he whispered,

“That was close.”

Suddenly, something soft and moist hit the side of Rilar’s face. When he reached up and touched the spot, he discovered that he had been struck with a blackberry.

“Where did that come from?” he wondered.

When he was struck again, he cried out, “Oh!”

The young woman beneath the tree laughed with delight.

“Did you think you could hide from me?” she asked.

“Jacylnor!” Rilar complained.

Pulling another blackberry off the prickly shrub, Jacylnor fired it from her sling.

“Stop!” Rilar complained.

“Then come down,” Jacylnor said. “You are not supposed to be climbing trees, let alone outside the city’s protection.”

“The city is boring,” Rilar explained.

“What about your studies? You know they are important,” Jacylnor pointed out.

“I am going to be a great warrior,” Rilar said. “I need no books for that.”

Jacylnor laughed,

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” Rilar said proudly.

“And I am going to slay monsters and dragons. Everyone will love me.”

Jaclynor laughed at Rilar’s youthful spirit.

“Well, great warrior, for now come down here and let us get to the castle. Mother is not feeling well.”

“The queen is sick?” Rilar asked.

“Yes. We must hurry,” Jaclynor insisted.

Just as Rilar began climbing down, Jaclynor heard movement in the forest trees.

“Rilar, stay up there,” she whispered.

Sensing the caution in her voice, Rilar stopped descending and watched Jaclynor as she turned away from the tree.

Something massive was in the forest, cracking the trees in its path as it moved toward Jaclynor and Rilar.

Jaclynor reached for her knife and held it up as she stepped back, bracing her back against the tree.

“A ram,” Rilar called out. “A big one.”

“Stay in the tree!” Jaclynor ordered. “Do not move!”

A great ram with brown fur and orange eyes pushed its nose through the trees. It stared at Jaclynor for a moment then snorted and took a few steps back. Jaclynor’s father had trained her to hunt, and together they had stalked and killed their share of wild animals. But this ram was over ten feet tall, much larger than any she had ever seen.

“Quick! Climb up!” Rilar cried out.

“Stay up there,” Jaclynor ordered, “and hold onto something!”

Jaclynor closed her eyes, concentrated, and began whispering something as the ram lowered its head and began digging its hooves into the ground.

As it snorted and began its charge, Jaclynor continued whispering until the ram was almost on her. Then her eyes flew open and she called out,

“Parturi!”

A clap of thunder rang out and a jolt of transparent energy exploded from her mouth, sending the ram flying backwards through the trees.

Rilar lost his grip, fell nineteen feet, and hit the ground with a loud thud.

Crying out in pain, he held his broken arm.

Jaclynor hurried to his side and sat down.

“Do not move,” she insisted.

She closed her eyes and began whispering again. As she spoke, flowers began to break through the soil and burst into full bloom, filling the small clearing in every direction.

Rilar felt his arm tingle and go numb. Then his entire body became warm and his arm began to itch.

Jaclynor stopped whispering and slowly opened her eyes.

As she stood, every flower withered away and died.

“How is your arm?” she asked.

Rilar looked at his arm. He could see that it was no longer broken.

“How did you do that?” he asked, jumping to his feet.

“My father taught me a few tricks before he died,” Jaclynor said.

“King Sabin knew magic?” Rilar asked in surprise.

Jaclynor smiled and put a finger to her lips.

“Yes, but you must not tell anyone.”

Rilar smiled and nodded in agreement.

“Let us go before that ram returns,” Jaclynor said.

She took Rilar’s hand as they hurried out of the woods, headed for the city walls.

Unsettled: Episode 78

Donahue pulled to a stop outside Green Harvest, a small shop near Greenway Park.

“What is this place?” Randi asked.

“A health food store,” Donahue said. “They don’t sell junk food or anything processed. All healthy, all natural.”

“You’re sure the juice box came from here?” Randi asked.

“This is the best place to buy healthy organic snacks, herbal teas, gluten free and low sodium food. They don’t sell meat. Only vegan food with no animal testing and all natural,” Donahue explained.

“Sounds like a fun place,” Randi said.

“My wife loves it,” Donahue said, getting out of the car.

Randi winced for a moment then slipped out of the car and followed Donahue toward the shop.

“Plus I’m pretty sure this is the place where our killer bought that juice we found,” he added.

The detectives waited for traffic to clear then crossed the street.

When Donahue pulled open the shop door, Randi was hit in the face with the strong smell of patchouli.

No one was minding the cash register.

“Wait here,” Donahue said and started searching the shelves.

After a few moments just as Randi was about to hit the bell, Donahue said,

“My wife has been looking for this. She is going to be so happy.”

“Is anyone here?” Randi called out.

“He’s probably in the back,” Donahue suggested. “Ring the bell on the counter.”

Randi tapped the bell once and waited. When no one appeared, she rang it again.

Suddenly the door to the back opened and a tall thin man with a long braid and bushy beard walked out. The hem of his faded t-shirt didn’t quite reach the waistband of his shorts, and his bare feet slapped on the tile floor as he made his way up to the counter.

When he reached the counter, he looked at Randi for a moment then said,

“You are not like the other children Mother Earth sends to me. You must have just begun your journey to healthy eating. Let me be your guide to a younger happier you.”

He reached out and took Randi’s hand.

“I am Rain. What is your name?” he asked.

“Detective Miranda Lawrence,” Donahue said, stepping out from behind the shelves.

Rain’s shoulders dropped. He looked out the window then back at Donahue.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his demeanor changing along with his voice. Hunching over, he spoke with an aggressive tone.

“Meet Kevin Two Toes Foster. Former accountant for the Drakos crime family.”

“Two Toes?” Randi asked.

“Birth defect,” Foster said.

“What are you doing here, detective?” he asked Donahue. “I ain’t done nothing wrong. I’m clean. Swear on my mother.”

“Kevin, your mother shot at officers who came to arrest you,” Donahue said.

Foster shrugged and answered,

“What can I say? She’s got spirit.”

“I need your help, Kevin,” Donahue said.

“I’m way ahead of you,” Foster said. “The special soap your wife has been waiting for finally showed up. It’s in the back.”

“Already got it,” Donahue said. “I’m here for something else. You let a killer in here.”

“Whoa!” Foster said. “I ain’t got nothing to do with no killer. I’m clean.”

Donahue stared at Foster for a moment then said,

“I believe you. But I’m almost certain he came here.”

Randi held up the juice box.

Foster took a pair of glasses out of his shirt pocket and examined the box.

After a moment he said,

“Yeah, I sell this stuff. It’s a rip off. Ninety percent apple juice.”

Foster handed back the box and added,

“That was my last one, too. I got more on the way.”

“I need to see your security footage,” Donahue said.

Foster raised his hands.

“I don’t have security cameras in here. My customers prefer their privacy.”

Donahue looked over at Randi and said,

“You know I hear Carl Costigan took over as head of the family when Mr. Drakos retired. I wonder what he’d think if he found out that Two Toes Foster was still alive.”

“Big Carl Costigan?” Randi asked. “I hear he fed some guy’s family to a wood chipper. Made the guy watch.”

“Seriously?” Foster said.

“I need to see that footage,” Donahue repeated.

“Look. The footage ain’t going to help you. Someone broke in and wrecked the system a week ago. But good news is, I remember your guy. He bought some Kava tea and my last juice box. Paid ahead for more. Said he wanted them shipped to his place,” Foster explained.

After digging around under the counter, Foster came back with a piece of paper.

“In fact, he called this morning and changed the address,” Foster said.

When Donahue and Randi saw the address, Donahue said,

“This is the address for a warehouse.”

Foster raised his hands,

“Look, I got people who literally buy imported dirt. I don’t ask no questions.”

Donahue considered the address again and said,

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Foster said. “Hey, next time don’t be so loud. Last thing I need is somebody from my old life finding me. I hear things about Big Carl, and he scares me.”

* * *

Across the street in the darkness of a narrow alley, Truman Wicker watched the two police detectives following the clues his father had told him to leave.

There had been no sign of the vigilante, and these two detectives were close on the trail.

Just then his cell phone rang. He removed it from his pocket and answered without checking the id.

“Yes, Father?”

“How is the hunt coming along?” Thaddeus Wicker asked.

“No sign of the vigilante, but two detectives are close on the trail,” Truman said.

“We weren’t hired to kill two detectives,” Thaddeus Wicker pointed out. “If they get too close, deal with them. We’ll blame it on the same person. Let me know if it comes to that. I’ll have to rework my killer’s profile.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it,” Truman said.

The call ended and Truman Wicker put away the phone.

As he watched the detectives for a moment longer, he heard a voice behind him say,

“Don’t worry.”

Truman felt a cold shiver run down his back. The voice was his own. As accurate as if it were a recording.

He slowly turned around. Standing behind him was a figure dressed in dark clothes with a black hood covering his face.

“I’ll take care of it,” the figure said in Truman’s voice.

His hands trembling, Truman reached for his gun, but before he could get it, the figure lunged at him.

When he tried to scream, the only sound was a whimper just before everything went dark.

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.

Dragon Fire: Episode 163

The sun slowly crested over the peaks of the Silver Mountains. Beams of fresh morning light fell upon the straw dwellings, polished stone streets, and cool clear rivers of Witherwell Falls. The city was older than civilization itself, and its first citizens were said to have been brought there by Ehderdrago. For thousands of years, the city had been closed off from the rest of the world, and legend was that the buildings had risen from the ground like the brilliantly colored trees and flowers that surrounded them. During the day, the streets were filled with the play of children, the sweet smell of baked goods and the laughter of good friends. At night the glow of fireflies and flaming torches bathed the city with light, overcoming the darkness. In these cold mountains, no ill will prevailed, and unsettled differences were taken outside the city walls and transformed into peaceful resolution.

Rays of sunlight fell upon a modest house and the thin curtain that hid a maiden inside its walls. When a gust of wind pushed the curtain aside, a small bright blue bird flew in through the open window. As the bird perched upon the corner bedpost and began to sing, the sun followed the creature inside, bathing the sleeping maiden in its warm light. She slowly awakened and shaded her eyes against the light. Suddenly, she sat up and laughed.

“Today is the day,” she exclaimed.

Quickly she threw off the bed covers, lifted a small box from the table beside her bed, and carefully examined it.

“It must be perfect,” she thought.

She could barely contain her excitement as she placed the box back onto the table and hurried to dress.

Soon she was out the door and running barefoot down the street to one of the tallest houses in Witherwell Falls. Giddy with excitement, she knocked upon the door. As she waited for an answer, she carefully put down the box and smoothed her windblown hair.

“Everything must be perfect,” she thought.

When she knocked a second time, the door slowly opened and an old woman raised her eyes to see who the visitor might be.

As she looked at the maiden, the woman’s blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight. She wore a rough linen scarf wrapped around her head and a course, plain-woven gown. She was Valkovian, a household servant, but to the maiden, she was much more.

“Siennevas,” the old woman said. “Ethesius is not here.”

“But Ephianene, it is his birthday,” Siennevas said. “I have brought him a gift.”

“His father and I are having a celebration in honor of his birthday, and Ethesius wanted to be alone before everyone begins arriving,” Ephianene explained.

Siennevas frowned in disappointment at not finding him home.

“I wanted to be the first to give him a gift,” she said.

Ephianene leaned in and whispered,

“He thinks I do not know where he goes, but I always know. Look for him on the dome roof of the tallest building. He climbs up there and looks at the clouds.”

Siennevas smiled and bowed,

“Thank you, Ephianene.”

Siennevas turned and ran through the streets. She knew exactly where to find Ethesius. When she first met him, she was intrigued. She had never seen a Valkovian before and had been enamored with him, following him wherever he went. The first time Ethesius had climbed the building, he was only eight years old, and Siennevas was right behind him. Soon she would be sixteen, and Ethesius was going to marry her. He had not said as much, but Siennevas knew they were meant to be together.

At last, Siennevas reached the building. This was an important place where the elders met and made decisions about the fate of the city.

She carefully tucked the present into her gown and reached up with both hands to take hold of the wall.

“Siennevas!” her father shouted.

Instantly she let go of the wall and waited for her father. As head of Witherwell Falls’ city council, he expected his daughter to follow strict behavioral guidelines. Climbing buildings certainly fell outside the code.

“Father,” she said. “I thought you were in meetings all day.”

“What are you doing here?” he asked, crossing his arms and scowling down at her.

“Nothing, sir,” Siennevas answered. “I was simply looking for flowers.”

“To give mother,” she added.

Her father stared at her for a moment then said,

“Well when you see Ethesius, wish him a happy birthday and tell him to stop climbing this building. It is not safe up there.”

Siennevas smiled her sweetest smile and rushed to kiss her father.

“Thank you, Father,” she said.

“You are welcome, my dear,” he said.

As soon as her father was out of sight, Siennevas began climbing the side of the building.

Her hands were trembling with anticipation at seeing Ethesius. She imagined his reaction when he opened her gift. He would smile and she would reach out and give him a kiss. It would be their first.

At the top of the smooth dome roof with hands behind his head and feet crossed, Ethesius lay staring up at the clouds.

His long silky hair was black with a purple hue, and his eyes had a soft violet glow. Like all Valkovians, his gem had a colored energy that ran through his body and affected every part.

Just as Siennevas climbed over the last ledge to reach him, she called out,

“Happy birthday!”

Ethesius rolled to his side and watched her as she came near.

“There is going to be a celebration this evening,” he said.

“I know,” Siennevas said. “I wanted to give you my present first.”

Her face glowing with joy, she waited for Ethesius. Seeing the anticipation in her face, Ethesius asked,

“What?”

“Stand up,” Siennevas whispered.

“What did you say?” Ethesius teased.

“Stand up,” Siennevas insisted. “I will not give my gift to a boy lying down.”

Wearing an open vest, Ethesius stood and faced her. Siennevas watched in wonder as he stretched, tightening his chest.

“What have you brought me?” he asked.

Spellbound, Siennevas kept staring at him.

“Siennevas?” Ethesius called.

“What?” she asked, snapping out of her daydream.

Just then, Siennevas slipped and fell from the roof. She screamed but her fall was stopped suddenly.

When she opened her eyes, she saw that she was wrapped in a thin purple energy. Ethesius held out his hand and his eyes glowed brightly. Lifting her into the air, he slowly lowered her to the roof just in front of him.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice soft.

“I did not know you could do that,” Siennevas said.

“Neither did I,” Ethesius replied.

Siennevas dropped the present and kissed Ethesius, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

Unsettled: Episode 77

As the sun slowly awoke to the new day, its glorious colors of red and orange spread through the morning sky like wildfire. Sunlight broke through the clouds and bathed Coldwater in light, driving away the darkness. On a rooftop nearby, Nick Woodman smoked a cigarette and watched the Ambassador Hotel. His orders were clear. Find and eliminate the members of the Freedom and Family League. Locating them had not been difficult. Woodman had spent most of the night studying the layout of their hotel floor. The open windows and floor plan would make his job quite easy. He had set up his equipment on top the building opposite the hotel’s north wall.

While he watched the sun come up, he decided to challenge himself. He would wait until all the league members woke. He ground out his cigarette, dropped the butt into a plastic bag and picked up his rifle.

Getting on his knees, he propped the rifle on its stand just as one FFL member rose from the bed and walked over to the window.

Lights inside the hotel room began to come on as more guests awoke. Woodman counted twelve FFL members moving around in the room. Just as he took aim on the first of his twelve targets, the lights in the building suddenly went out and the room was swallowed up in darkness.

He looked up and down the street and saw that the only lights out were those of the Ambassador Hotel. Woodman reached inside his bag and removed a night vision scope. In a second, he had attached it to the rifle and was once again watching the FFL members in the room.

After he counted all twelve members, he spotted something in the room he couldn’t identify. Standing perfectly still in the corner was a figure. Judging by the build, it was a man. He wore a jacket with a hood that covered his face.

“Who is that?” Woodman thought.

No one else in the room seemed to notice the mysterious figure. Some of the FFL members shined their cell phone lights around the room, but every time the beam came close to the man in the corner, he moved just out of the way.

Although Woodman had heard rumors of a vigilante called the Black Dog, he figured they were just urban legends. Pushing the question out of his mind, he took aim on a member who was looking out the window.

Just as he was about to pull the trigger, the man in the corner grabbed the FFL member and pulled him back away from the window.

“Is he protecting them?” Woodman wondered.

Putting down the rifle, he switched to the laptop connected to his remote rifle and positioned it for a clear shot. But just as he pulled the trigger, the shadowy figure grabbed the man and moved him out of the way, sending the shot into the wall.

Hysteria broke out and Woodman tried to get a clear shot as every member of the FFL panicked. While some hit the floor, others began running in circles trying to escape, but to no avail. During his surveillance, Woodman had sealed the doors and windows shut so they couldn’t get out of the room.

He put down the laptop and sent a message to Heath.

“About to complete the FFL job when some hooded figure started taking them down.“

Woodman waited a moment before a text came back.

“That is the Black Dog. Get out of there at once! Return to original assignment.”

Woodman dismantled his rifle and put away his equipment. Leaving the rooftop as clean as when he arrived, he quickly made his way down the stairs and exited the building.

* * *

The light from the morning sun slowly dried up the glistening dew formed from the night before.

Standing in the middle of Greenway Park, Donahue looked at the thin stone walkways running through the park, weaving artistic patterns through the grass. The centerpiece of Greenway Park was the large live oak with branches large enough to walk on. Each tree spread its branches far across the park, sometimes touching the ground before rising again.

Tied to the trunk of the oak was another dead body.

Crime Scene was already busy at work while Donahue looked over his notes and considered a possible connection between this victim and the previous one.

Both were college students. Both were blonde and attractive.

Coldwater was a place where the rich and famous built their summer homes. Most every citizen of Coldwater was considered beautiful, well beyond the standards of mortal men.

While his partner Detective Randi Lawrence talked to onlookers, Donahue examined the note left by the victim’s killer.

“The unrealistic beauty standards are killing our children and our futures. Kids starve themselves, pour garbage into their bodies, and spend thousands on products that can’t do much for them. All so they can look like some celebrity who has spent hours in a chair being primped and dolled up by professionals. I will not stop my crusade, my mission, to free our minds from the ball and chain ideals set forth by Hollywood and by the modeling industry of glamour magazines. Our children are depending on us to save them so they can have a future. I won’t stop till the world changes.”

“Same old drivel,” Donahue said.

He didn’t believe for a moment that this was some beauty obsessed serial killer. There was a connection. He just wasn’t seeing it yet.

Detective Randi finished her questioning and hurried over to Donahue.

“Her name is Joanna Fullmore,” Randi said. “Full time student studying Molecular Biology. She was grabbed leaving class, strangled, and strung up here on the tree.”

“Anything else?” Donahue asked.

“We got the killer on security camera,” Randi said. “Not enough to id him, but we got the murder on video.”

Holding up an evidence bag containing a juice bottle, she added,

“The killer dropped this into a trash can at the edge of the park. Guess he figured no one was watching.”

“The cameras are new,” she continued. “The killer probably didn’t know they had been installed.”

Donahue studied the bottle then said,

“I know this bottle. It’s a unique blend of 100% fruit juice sold only at a few stores. There’s one nearby. My wife loves the stuff.”

“What do you think about the security video?” Randi asked.

Donahue looked at her and asked,

“What do you think?”

Randi thought for a moment then said,

“I don’t know. Something feels off.”

“Exactly,” Donahue responded.

“It feels almost like we’re being told a story by someone who wants us to think this is a serial murder when it’s really something else.”

“What do you want to do?” Randi asked.

“Until we have more to go on, I guess we follow the breadcrumbs.”

Donahue held up the bottle and said,

“Let’s head over to the place nearby that sells this.”

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.