Session Twenty-Six, Part Four: Hunted by Day
The sobbing forgotten, the trio raced downstairs, charging into the kitchen with blades bristling. The rear door stood open, and a white-faced Gina trembled in the corner as Tomas hid in the pantry.
"A spirit! A ghost!" Gina screamed, over and over, and like a counterpoint Tomas roared, "Shut the door, woman! Shut the door!"
"If it's a ghost, shutting the door won't help," Di'Fier observed mildly, but seeing the lack of effect this had on the household he nodded to Dru, who kicked the wooden barrier shut with a forbidding
thump that cut off the cries like a knife.
"Just what was this all about?" he asked, looking from one servant to the other.
Tomas crawled slowly from his hiding place, clearing his throat. "M'sorry, sor," he muttered. "She'm were goin' t'the out-house, an' saw it."
"Is this the first time anything like this has happened?"
"Yes," Tomas said quickly, and after looking at him, Gina nodded.
"You've never heard any crying in the night?"
Again, Tomas' answer came first. "No, sor."
Di'Fier sighed. "Gina, why don't you just use the indoor privy? You should be safe in here. I think we're going to look into whatever that thing was..."
"This porridge isn't bad," Dru said. "I've never had it with bacon crumbled into it before."
Sir Manuel flushed, pushed away his half-empty bowl, and stalked from the room.
"What was that all about?"
Di'fier leaned over, peering at his cousin's breakfast. "Someone didn't get any bacon."
"Someone should be nicer to Gina," observed Shesara.
From above, they heard a strangled cry.
"I hope this doesn't get to be a habit," said Dru, finishing her final spoonful. "Or at least, the ghost starts picking more convenient times to appear."
Di'Fier pushed his chair back. "We probably ought to go see what it is, though. Before it hurts him too badly."
The trio strolled to the second floor landing, where Manuel's pale, trembling finger pointed at empty air. "There...there was a woman!"
Dru nodded sagely. "Terrifying," she agreed.
"A
ghost!" Manuel insisted.
"You seem overwrought. Maybe you should rest in the parlor."
"But...but..."
"Go on," Dru said, giving him a gentle push. "Go have a drink or something. As he staggered off down the stairs, she turned to her friends. "The Baroness? Or whoever our crying ghost was?"
"I hope so," said Di'Fier. "Otherwise it means that there's three. At least." Below them, the front door opened, admitting Ivanior. "Ivanior!" Di'Fier called. "Do you have a moment?"
"Of course." The elf made his way up the stairs, and listened as Di'Fier described the happenings last night and this morning.
"I'm afraid I can't help you," he said. "I don't know anything about ghosts, either generally or here in specific."
"That was interesting," Dru muttered as the elf walked away. "What is everybody hiding?"
"I'm not sure," said Di'Fier. "But I want to find out."
"Especially if you're going to inherit this place," said Shesara.
Di'Fier looked at her. "What?"
Dru said, "Well, it's pretty obvious. Your sick uncle, estranged from the rest of his family, on his deathbed, wants to meet you...why else?"
"That's probably why Manuel is here," Shesara added. "Hoping to get a part of the inheritance."
Di'Fier looked from one elf to the other. "I...I guess so."
"So come on, almost-Baron. Let's check out your future home."
"It's starting to snow," Shesara said, looking out the window of the Baron's bedroom.
Dru and Di'Fier left off of their search and came to watch.
"I wish we got this in Freeport instead of the rainy season," Dru muttered, as they turned back to their search.
Di'Fier peered behind the dresser, then reached in from the side. "I wonder what this is for?" It was a stick, about three feet long, with a small metal hook on the end.
Dru glanced upward. "There's a trapdoor in the ceiling. It's hidden in the carving. You can probably pull it open with that."
Di'Fier searched out the tiny slot for the hook, and fitted it in. As he began to pull, a voice boomed out from behind them: "
Don't go up there!"
They spun, but nobody was there. Shesara hummed softly to herself, then pointed at the portrait of the Baron hanging on the wall. "There's something magical there," she said.
Dru pulled it aside to reveal blank wall beneath, and Shesara confirmed: "It's the portrait."
Footsteps were coming rapidly down the hall, and Dru hastily hung the picture back in its accustomed place. Di'Fier fumbled with the hook, finally detaching it from the ceiling, and as Liadon entered the room he was leaning on the stick as if it were a cane.
"I thought I heard something," Ivanior said, looking over the group.
"You probably did," said Di'Fier. "I was just saying that we needed to go out there," gesturing to the ridge behind the house, "to see if there was any sign of the...well, of whatever Gina saw last night."
"And we'd like to see the grounds," added Shesara.
"Very well. I could show you, if you like."
"That would be splendid."
"That was the orchard...it was originally intended to remind Lady Elena of her home, but orange-trees do not flourish in this climate," Ivanior said. "And if you follow the coastline, you can see the village of Kirkwood, there."
"What are all those men doing on the river?"
"Loggers, I suppose," said the elf with a shrug. "The late Baron had an arrangement with Seskin Lumber. They have a logging camp farther upriver where they cut the trees and float them down here. Every once in a while one of them goes over the falls, sometimes with a logger or two."
Di'Fier looked at Dru. "This is about where Gina saw the thing, right? Let's see if it left any tracks."
Under Ivanior's impatient gaze, the trio fanned out, scoring the rocky ground.
"It's no good," said Di'Fier. "I don't see any-"
His words were cut off as he crashed to the ground with a strangled cry. Blood began to pour from his body as deep, parallel gouges tore themselves open in his flesh, shredding him like so much meat.
