Inside the Graves Manor: Chapter 2

By: Sylvia Renda

A few months have passed since that day, and the first signs of spring were starting to show. The ground was thawing into squishy mud and the first flowers beginning to bloom. Everyone seemed to be in a better mood, except for the Master, who rarely came out of his study, only letting Derby in. One day, even that stopped happening. 

Caroline stared out at the rain, which was so strong it has seemed to turn the whole house into a drum. Simon was whining in the background.

“C’mon! I just wanna go outside! I haven’t been outside in ages! Some fresh air wouldn’t kill me!” 

Caroline heard Derby sigh, “Simon, it’s still cold, and the humidity is not good for your lungs, it’s best you stay inside.” 

Simon whined again but didn’t say anything else. Caroline turned around, hopping off the chair she was sitting on. She walked outside to the garden, knowing she’d find Iona there. 

Despite the rain, Iona was crouching in front of a patch of primrose flowers, which had just started to bloom. She noticed Caroline behind her and stood up. 

“You know, I was thinking about fixing up this garden,” Iona said, playing her hands on her hips and looking out into the decrepit garden, which was covered in weeds with a broken fountain in the centre, which was being taken over by vines. 

“That seems like a lot of spring cleaning,” Caroline commented, “I’m surprised the primrose flowers are already blooming, it’s still freezing out.” The wind billowed around them, and she shivered. “Can we go inside?” 

Iona nodded and the two headed into the manor, not noticing the slight red glowing coming from the windows of the third floor.

At dinner that night, they ate in mostly silence, until Lily finally spoke.

“Caroline, you still haven’t told us how or why you came here to work for the Master,” Lily said unexpectedly. Caroline shifted uncomfortably, biting her lip. 

“Ok well…My father left me in an orphanage when I was a baby, I barely remember him, but anyway I spent the first 6 years of my life in the orphanage until eventually I was sent off to work for someone, it basically went like that, and then I ended up here,” Caroline’s gaze was downcast, as she poked at her food. 

“What do you remember about him?” Derby asked, suddenly seeming more interested in the conversation.

“I don’t have many clear memories, just slight details, although I’ve been told he was strange looking, really pale, red hair red eyes and-” Caroline froze some sort of realization dawning upon her, “Wait is the Master my father?” she looked at Derby, “Has the Master ever mentioned having a child?” 

Derby blinked, sipping his wine, “The Master doesn’t really talk about his past, that often…nor does he speak often…but he very well could be.”

“That would be weird, if the Master is your father who you’ve never known…ugh…” Simon scowled “Imagine having him for your father.”  

Caroline buried her face in her hands “This is bad…Derby do you think you can ask Master Graves if he had a kid?” 

“I can try,” Derby sighed, pushing out his chair, “Although he might not want to talk about it.” 

Derby walked up to the third floor, he reached the landing, the door to the Master’s study was ajar, so Derby invited himself in; the Master didn’t seem to notice him standing there. Derby inched closer trying to see what the Master was working on his desk. 

“What are you making?” Derby finally said, the Master let out a yelp, his chair nearly tipping backward. 

“J-j-j-just s-s-s-s-th-th-some-something fffffor m-my leg,” he stuttered, grabbing the desk instinctively. 

“Did you have a child who you put into an orphanage?” Derby asked nonchalantly, leaning against the doorframe. 

The Master tensed, “Wh-wh-why d-d-do you a-a-s-s-s-sk?”

“Come on, just answer the question!” Derby whined pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Wh-why do you ask-s-s-sk?” The Master repeated, his eyes glowing again.

“Because Caroline just brought up that her father, who left her in an orphanage when she was a baby, looked oddly like you.”

The Master didn’t respond for a moment, “M-m-my mem-mem-memory is-s-s-s-sn’t t-th-the best-st-st,” his gaze was fixed on the ground, “I be-be-l-eive I d-d-d-di-did ha-ha-have a-a chil-d-d…I f-f-f-forget-t-t-t th-th-the n-na-name…” 

Derby grinned “That's all I need to know,” he closed the door softly, walking away. He headed down the stairs and back to the dinner table, “Well he had a kid…but….he doesn’t remember what he did with the kid…” 

“Of course he doesn’t, I think he blocked out all the memories from when he was married, and anything associated with it,” Iona sighed. 

“He had a wife?” Nearly everyone at the table blurted out in unison. 

Iona’s eyes widened, “You guys didn’t know that? Not even you Derby?” 

Derby shook his head, “Nope, like I’ve said before Master Graves hardly mentions his past, if he does he’s just muttering to himself,” Derby shrugged. 

Dinner was almost over, everyone was starting to get up and clearing their places. After some time they all started heading up for bed. 

The next day there was a knock on the door, Iona answered it seeing a lanky messenger boy standing there, fumbling with his satchel. 

“I have an invitation from Lord John Clarke  for uh Master Henry Graves,” he awkwardly handed an envelope to Iona, who was staring at him dreamily.

“Cool…” she muttered, leaning against the door frame. 

The messenger stood there for a moment before saying goodbye and walking away. Iona was watching him go, not noticing Lily walk up behind her. 

“What’s that?” Lily asked, taking the envelope from Iona. 

“An invitation for the Master,” Iona took the letter back, “I’ll give it to Derby for him to bring it up to him,” she headed over to the parlor where Derby was inspecting an old book. 

“I think this is the Master’s family bible or something, it has a bunch of names,” he said more to himself than Iona. 

“Derby I have an invitation to something for Master Graves,” she handed him the letter, which had an elegant red seal on the front, and read to Master Henry Graves. 

Derby took the letter and looked at it then got up, “I’ll bring it to him,” he sighed, making his way up the stairs. 

In his study the Master was practically pulling his hair out from frustration, he was so caught up in his work he didn’t notice Derby until he tapped him on the shoulder, placing the letter in front of him. 

“It’s from Lord John Clarke,” he said simply, “Some sort of invitation.” 

The Master snatched it up and glared at it as if it personally offended him, picking off the seal and taking out the letter.

To Mr. Henry Graves,

You have been invited to the 60th annual charity banquet and dance hosted April 9th 1876, there will be raffles, dinner, and other formal activities. As one of our more esteemed guests we ask you to prepare a speech for the banquet. 

Please wear formal attire and NOT something you wear every day. Nothing casual, there is no such thing as too formal. 

Regards, 

Lord John Clarke. 

The Master stared at the invite for a while, before shoving it into his desk drawer. 

“Do th-th-they re-re-really th-th-thi-think I’m-m-m go-go-going t-t-t-t-to go t-t-to th-th-that-t?” He crossed his arms, staring at Derby, “P-p-p-plu-s-s-s all m-mmm-my f-f-f-fancy cl-cl-cloth-th-thes are t-t-t-to sm-sm-small…Wh-why-why wo-would th-th-they invit-t-te me?”

“Since you’re one of the richest men in the region,” Derby sighed, “And judging by the fact that you don’t eat much and you’ve barely left your manor in 14 years your fancy clothes are probably too big on you,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, “Let’s go look at your wardrobe,” he grabbed the Master’s hand and pulled him up. 

The Master wobbled and he gripped his cane tightly, pulling his gloved hand away from Derby’s. They headed out into the hall, the Master’s bedroom was across from Derby’s and Derby realized Graves must have chosen his bedroom there to make it easier for himself.  

The room locked like it hadn’t been touched in years, the bed was neatly made, and everything was orderly; except there was a coat of dust all over it. Derby stood there for a moment then looked at the Master. 

“Have you been wearing the same clothes for like 10 years?” he said disgustedly, sliding away from the Master. 

“I p-p-pre-f-f-fer n-n-not-t t-t-to an-ans-answer th-that quest-st-stion,” he said simply, limping over to the wardrobe, his leg practically dragging behind him. 

“Have you washed them?” Derby grinned, peering into the wardrobe as the Master opened it. 

“Of c-c-cours-s-se!” The Master scowled, stepping away from the wardrobe. 

Most of the clothes were red and black with a few exceptions of a brown dress coat and a maroon pinstripe suit. 

“So….not a lot of variety….” Derby whistled, shoving his hands into his pockets, “Do you want to go to town to get fitted for something?” He pulled out the maroon suit, “Although this doesn’t look half bad…” 

“N-no!” the Master took the suit and shoved it back into the closet “I-it do-does-doesn’t go wi-wi-th-th-th m-my h-hair…” 

Derby pinched the bridge of his nose “Then why do you have it?” The Master didn’t answer, “So the best option is probably to go to the tailor in town and get you fitted for a suit.” Derby said with barely restrained frustration. 

“Will I ha-have t-t-t-t-to t-t-talk t-t-to p-p-peop-ple?” he stared at the ground, one hand in his hair. 

Derby groaned inwardly “Of course you have to talk to people,” he hissed through gritted teeth, “You have to tell the tailor what you’d like, what you wouldn’t like and all the other stuff, also you have to stand still long enough for them to get measurements.”

The Master’s eyes widened when Derby said this, “I d-d-don’t want-t-t t-t-to b-b-be t-to-touched,” he mumbled, he seemed to be curling in on himself, scrunching his shoulders up and hunching over. 

“Well it’s kind of hard to be fitted if you don’t want to be touched,” Derby closed the wardrobe door, “It’s the best option.”

The Master muttered something Derby couldn’t make out and limped out of the room.

Meanwhile downstairs, Caroline was digging through the old files in the library, looking for a copy of her birth certificate, pictures, anything to make sure that she was the Master’s daughter. She was so confused, how could it be that after 13 years of being without a family she ended up working for her own father? It couldn’t be true, there was no way…right? There was no way. Plus he was nothing like her, she was quiet, sure, but she didn’t stammer so much to the point that she was incoherent. She wasn’t half as anxious as him. 

Eventually she found a photo of a younger-looking-Master, maybe at the age of 20, who was standing next to a woman, whose face was scribbled out in ink. She looked about the age of the Master. The Master looked extremely uncomfortable, and his smile was forced. The woman seemed like the happiest woman alive. She turned over the photo and found a note on the back. Eli and Henry, Married April 9th 1852.  

Married? That didn’t sound right, it was pretty clear the Master had no interest in women. Maybe it was forced? Planned since they were young? She would have hated it if she was forced into a marriage. No wonder the Master was so hesitant when Miss Hale had come. 

She inspected the picture, she noticed how the woman had her arm linked with the Master’s but he seemed to be trying to keep his distance. His free hand was blurry as if it had been moving when the picture was taken. 

She carefully put the picture away, just as Simon entered the room. 

“Caroline! What are you doing?” he grinned, Caroline noticed he was missing another tooth.  

“Nothing!” Caroline said Simon looked up at her with big eyes. 

“Ok! Well Lily was reading me this book and it basically said that people with weird colored hair have magic powers! No wonder there's some people with different hair in town who aren’t too normal!”

“I highly doubt that, I may believe that the Master could have magic powers, but Derby seems like the typical man,” she sighed. 

“You sure? I mean he has the ability to turn the Master’s face a different color every time he walks in the room, and other stuff!” Simon said, stepping closer. 

Caroline sighed, “That's called having a crush,” she deadpanned, turning back to the drawer, “The Master has a crush on Derby, and I’m not even sure he knows it.”

Simon tilted his head “What do you mean? He just seems like his normal jumpy self.” 

Caroline pinched the bridge of her nose “You’re too young to get it.” 

Suddenly there was a crash coming from outside, followed by a yell of concern they couldn’t make out. Simon and Caroline ran into the hallway, around the corner to the spiral staircase, where a very dazed Master Graves lay on the floor, his head on the bottom step. Derby came running down, carrying the Master’s cane, which was glowing slightly, the red stripes on his coat seemed to be glowing with some red-lightning looking energy, Caroline noticed his hands were also twitching with the energy. 

“Master, you really mustn't let go of your cane!” Derby grabbed the Master’s hand, hauling him up, “Every time you do, you seem to fall down,” he handed the Master his cane, who grabbed it, still slightly dazed. 

“Well yeah he’s crippled,” Simon said bluntly, “That's kinda the point.”

“Y-y-you m-m-m-ma-made me f-f-f-f-feel rush-sh-shed,” Master Graves stuttered. 

“Where are you two going?” Caroline asked Derby, who was grabbing the Master’s hand to make sure he didn’t fall down again. 

“The tailor to get this one,” he gestured towards the Master, “Fitted for a suit.” 

Caroline looked up “Master, don’t you have a suit from your old  wedding or something? I bet it’d still fit you.” 

The Master tensed “N-n-no!” he snapped, panic in his voice, “N-n-not n-n-not not th-that!” 

Derby sighed leaning over to Caroline and saying quietly “He also doesn’t want to go to the tailor, so it’s kind of a jam,” He looked over at the Master who was pulling on his bangs. 

Derby sighed, and led the Master down the stairs, the Master reluctantly followed.

They arrived at the tailor an hour later. It was a small shop with an almost cozy feel to it, with dozens of different fabrics, on all walls. However this did little to soothe the Master’s nerves. He stepped onto the stool, gripping his cane awkwardly. The tailor moved to measure his legs, the Master stumbled backwards, falling off the stool. 

“N-n-no!” He stammered, scooting backwards. 

Derby and the tailor exchanged glances, Derby bit his lip, crouching down to the Master’s level. 

“We talked about this, in order to get a new suit, she needs to get your measurements,” Derby sighed, helping the Master up. 

“I d-d-don't w-w-want t-t-to b-be t-t-tou-touched,” he muttered, “w-we c-c-can d-d-do th-th-th-the mea-s-s-surment-t-ts at-t-t-t home.” 

Derby fought back the urge to yell in frustration, gritting his teeth he said “Yeah…that would be fine…”

As they left the shop, the Master’s stomach growled loudly, and he winced slightly. Derby realized he was also hungry, and looked over to him.

“Before we go home do you want to get something to eat?” Derby asked, the Master shrugged. 

“I d-d-don’t-t-t want-t-t-t t-t-t-to t-talk t-t-to people,” he mumbled simply. 

Meanwhile back at the house, Caroline was cleaning Derby’s room as he had requested, she noticed a stack of opened letters on the desk. At first she tried to ignore them but then curiosity got the best of her. Carefully, she picked up an envelope and checked the address. 125 Willis Street, Willis Industries. Willis Industries? She had heard that name before, but she wasn’t sure where. Deciding to investigate further, she took out the piece of parchment from the envelope and unfolded it. 

To Mr. Derby Knight, 

I don’t care if he seems to like you, you need to eliminate him, that’s all you’re there for, to kill Henry Graves, your associate Adam already failed and we can not lose more people. If you want to move up in the company, terminate him. You can use his vulnerability against him and make him trust you, then betray him, instead of pitying him. He will be so blinded by his friendship with you, he won’t see it coming.  COMPLETE THE MISSION.

Regards, 

Raymond Willis.

Caroline froze, slowly putting the letter back into the envelope. Derby was a hitman? It seemed too bad to be true, Derby was great, helpful, and kind, and it was all an act? She looked down at the half written letter on the desk. 

To Raymond Willis,

Understood, I will not stray from my mission, however I don’t believe emotional manipulation is necessary. He already has

Then it cut off, Caroline started, he already has what? Fallen in love? No, that's probably not it. Although Caroline found it weird that they wrote as if they were having a conversation. Odd. 

As she left the room she knew she needed to say something about this, but how? No one would believe her…Iona might, and she too would be blinded by her ignorance. 

She walked down the stairs, and found Iona in the lounge, starting a fire in the fireplace. 

“Hey Iona…can I talk to you?” she asked quietly. 

Iona turned around, smiling warmly “Of course!” she beamed. 

“I was uh…I was cleaning Derby’s room when I saw some letters on his desk…well I read one of them and found out that umm…Derby was hired to kill the Master,” she said, all in one breath. 

Iona blinked, “What?” she sputtered. 

“Derby was hired to kill the Master,” Caroline repeated “He works for that company, Willis Industrys, or whatever it’s called.”  

Iona’s hand went to her hair as she started combing her fingers through it “Oh. Oh my, oh ok…that’s…what is that company’s issue? The Master is barely active in the public, surviving off of copyright money for his invention, why don’t they just give up!?” 

“This has happened before?” Caroline gasped. 

Iona nodded “Y’know that Adam guy that’s sometimes brought up in conversation?” Iona asked, Caroline nodded, “Well, a few years ago, he worked for the Master as well, he was a lot like Derby, good with kids and really sharp-tongued; Adam was also an employee of Willis Industries, but the Master found out and…well we don’t know what happened to Adam,” she looked down, still playing with her hair. 

“That’s…a lot–wait, how has the Master not been suspicious about Derby?” Caroline asked, “If he’s just like Adam.” 

Iona shrugged “Adam wasn’t as helpful to the Master compared to Derby, Adam was kind of mean to him, Derby is nice to him,” 

“What do you mean?” Caroline asked. 

“Adam wasn’t as adaptive to the Master’s uh…needs, unlike Derby…” Iona went back to tending to the fire. 

The front door opened with a bang, and Derby walked in, and when Caroline didn’t see the Master a flash of panic hit her. But thankfully he followed close behind, going straight for the stairs. 

Derby was taking off his coat, he sighed, looking slightly frustrated, making sure the Master was out of earshot before saying to Caroline, “He didn’t want to be measured and insisted on doing it himself, so we had to leave the tailor, then he got hungry so we went out to eat but he couldn’t order for himself so I had to, and-” He sighed deeply, “It’s like taking care of a kid.” 

Caroline nodded slowly, silently debating whether to confront Derby about the letters or ignore them. She thought about it for a while, and by the time she came to a conclusion, Derby was helping Simon dust the bookshelf. 

That night, the house’s staff was woken up by a series of loud, quick bangs, coming from the Master’s study, Derby ran out into the hallway, and was met by the children running up the stairs with wide eyes, Simon was holding a stuffed bear in his hands and using it to cover his ears. Lily was hiding behind Iona, Caroline seemed frozen in place, and Iona was trying to keep things under control. There was a red light seeping underneath the doors to the Master’s study. 

“You guys stay…there,” Derby said unsurely.

Then there was a loud clanging noise like a rock being banged around in a metal pipe. Then everything stopped. Derby slowly opened the door, the study was more of a mess than before, and one one side of the room the Master lay against a bookshelf, covered in books and tools, his goggles on,  the bookshelf  looked like it had collapsed by his impact. On the other side of the room, there was a big machine, likely the cause of the noise, smoking and flickering slightly. 

Derby stood there, frozen, it was hard to tell if the Master was still alive, as his goggles were covering his eyes. He slowly approached the Master, who twitched slightly, Derby crouched down taking the Master’s pulse, he looked slightly disappointed but covered it up. 

“He’s alive,” Derby sighed, “He’ll probably be fine,” 

The Master looked up, smiling crookedly, “H-hey th-th-there,” he said in a dreamy tone “Y-y-you’re ha-han-hands-s-some, d-do-do y-you–” 

Derby cut him off, “And you’re delirious,” he sighed, moving the books and tools off of his body, “Can you stand? Where’s your cane?” 

Lily who had been investigating near the machine tapped on Derby’s arm, “It’s right here Mister,” she mumbled, holding up the Master’s cane, or what was left of it, it had snapped in several pieces and the ruby was reduced to a jagged bump on the top, flickering slightly. 

“Well,” Derby said, clapping his hands, “That’s an issue, ok…is there any replacements for the cane?” 

“No,” the children said in unison, Iona stepped forward. 

“He refused to use anything else other than the cane, he might agree to something though, but you never know with him” Iona sighed, pulling at her sleeve. 

"I've come to realize that," Derby pinched the bridge of his nose, then crouched down, pushing the Master’s goggles back onto his forehead, his eyes were half closed, there was a cut on his face. Carefully, Derby picked up the Master, who jerked away slightly, but gave up. He carried Master Graves bridal style to his chair and set him down.  

“Huh…?” The Master whispered, still slightly dazed, “Eli…? 

Caroline and Iona froze, looking at each other.  Derby was inspecting something on the Master’s desk, ignoring the Master’s stammered, confused, comments. 

“Looks like you got your measurements…although some of these aren’t necessary for the suit,” he picked up a piece of paper and folded it, putting it in his pocket, “We’ll go back tomorrow, if you’re well enough.” 

“Why would he be well enough if he can’t even walk without his cane, which is broken!” Iona exclaimed suddenly. 

Derby bit his lip, glancing at the remains of the Master’s cane in Lily’s hands then back at the Master, who had sat himself upright.  

“Wh-wh-where-s-s m-my c-cane?” he asked, looking around. 

“It broke, Master Graves,” Lily said, handing him the pieces. 

The Master stared, his eyes twitching slightly, “D-D-Der-Derb-b-by in th-th-the at-t-t-t-tic theres theres theres a c-cr-cru-crutch-ch,” he instructed, “co-co-could yo-you g-g-go g-g-get it-t-t-t?” 

Derby looked annoyed but nodded, heading out. The Master looked at the children, who were standing in a line, and ironically in height order.

"Y-you ch-ch-children g-g-go t-t-t-t-to bed," he muttered, "It-t-t-t's lat-te." 

They all nodded in unison and scurried off. As they walked to their rooms, Derby came down the stairs covered in cobwebs, carrying a crutch.

“There was a box labeled ‘stuff I don’t want to ever see again’” he sighed, carrying the crutch “You can guess where I found this.”

The next morning, the children woke up and headed downstairs to find a very tired looking Derby, there were bags underneath his eyes and he seemed half asleep as he made coffee. 

“All damn night he was rambling about his inventions and life and whatever,” Derby groaned, rubbing his eyes, “he kept calling me weird pet names, it was weird, I think he thought I was his ex-wife.” 

“Oh really?” Iona said, sipping her tea, “And is he letting you rest?” 

“No,” Derby sighed “I have to go to the tailor with him today.”

“Ah gee, that sucks” Simon rolled his eyes, sniffling slightly, “While you're there, can you get my medicine from the doctor place?” 

“Sure why not,” Derby’s eyes were half closed. Caroline didn’t see him as the hitman he really was, but as the overworked assistant he was pretending to be.

After lunch, Derby and Master Graves left to visit the tailor, the Master seemed more shaky than usual. The children sat in the living room, Lily was drawing in her notebook, Caroline was looking at some pictures on the mantel. 

“Do you ever wonder what it’s like to be the Master?” Iona suddenly asked.

“No not really,” Simon replied, grinning, “Although do you think his thoughts are stuttered?”  

Iona ignored him, “Do you think he sees things differently? Or hears things differently?” 

“Nope,” Simon replied. 

“When he found me he was different, he still had the stutter but he was different, more social,” Lily said quietly, “I don’t think he can trust anyone anymore after Adam.” 

“Well he sure trusts Derby,” Caroline snorted, “How long have you guys been working here?” 

“Uhhh...3 years…since I was 4….” Simon sniffled. 

“6 years,” Iona said proudly, “I was 9 when I started working here.”

“4 years, since I was 6,” Lily mumbled, looking at the ground, “I don’t remember much about my life before that.” 

Caroline processed this information, she wondered what it was like when Iona started working here, or when Lily did, or Simon. She thought back to what Lily had said, about the Master being different when he found her. Iona broke her train of thought. 

“Do you guys want to go explore the attic? I bet there's some good stuff up there!” she said suddenly. 

“Ok!” Simon said, getting up, Iona paused, looking at him.

“Simon…there’s probably a lot of dust up there, it’s probably really bad for your lungs…” she said uncertainly. 

“No! I don’t care if it’s bad for my lungs! I’m sick and tired of sitting out of stuff just because I have a stupid cough! You never let me have any fun! I can’t even go outside! Nobody lets me do anything! I’ve had these medi-ca-tions for months! And they’ve barely done anything! Can’t you just accept I’m not gonna get better!” Simon cried out suddenly, letting out a choked sob, “Everything I do, you say I’m gonna get more sick! I’m not getting better Iona!” tears were streaming down his face, he ran out of the room, coughing and sniffling. 

“Well…” Iona started, but then trailed off, shifting uncomfortably. 

“You should probably let him cool off for a while,” Caroline suggested, Iona nodded, sitting back down.

Three days later, the day of the banquet arrived, Derby came down with the Master behind him, the Master had gotten another more repaired cane, and was wearing the new suit. Derby had gotten a carriage to pick him and the Master up, it was being pulled by two horses, their legs the size of the average man. 

“This hill sure is steep, the horses could barely make it up, it’s a wonder you can considering your uh…” the coachmen said to the Master who glared at him, Derby chuckled nervously. 

Meanwhile inside, the children were crowding around the window, they had never seen horses that big before, Iona had seen them and muttered something about making dinner and left the room. 

“Gee, the Master did look fancy in that suit!” Simon said once they had left, “And those horses were huge! I wonder what it’s like to ride one!” 

“Probably terrifying,” Iona said quietly, Simon ignored her like he had been doing for the past three days.

Caroline turned around, “I wonder how the banquet will go, the Master looked pretty nervous walking out,” 

“He’ll probably be fine,” Lily shrugged, “Or Derby’ll bring him home, or something.”

Meanwhile at the banquet, Derby and the Master were walking into the great hall, Derby had his arm linked with the Master’s, to support him as he was using a smaller cane than usual. 

A purple haired young man, dressed in a matching suit approached them, smiling “Ah, you must be Master Graves!” he said to the Master, who nodded slowly, “And who are you?” The man looked at Derby, who was looking at his nails boredly. 

“I'm his uh assistant…” Derby said, noticing how many couples had their arms linked. 

Master Graves seemed to notice this too because he quickly stepped away from Derby.

“Assistant you say?” the purple haired man said, “I thought you two were…nevermind, I am Sir Paxton Sheppard, you may have heard of me,” Paxton turned to the Master who avoided eye contact, “I know everyone’s heard of you, and it’s so nice to finally meet you!” 

Sheppard stuck out his hand for a hand shake, the Master stared at him for a while before shaking it weakly. 

“So why did you finally decide to come to the annual banquet? You haven't come for years!” Paxton asked the Master who was tapping his fingers against his cane. 

“H-he f-f-for-forced m-me t-t-to-” The Master stammered, looking at Derby who sighed.

“I encouraged you, you agreed,” Derby sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “There was no forcing.” 

Sheppard seemed to be getting bored of the lack of conversation, and politely removed himself from the conversation, muttering some excuse under his breath. 

“Well, it’s only polite to greet the host,” Derby said to the Master. 

“I th-th-thou-thought he wa-s-s su-p-p-p-posed t-t-to c-c-come t-t-to us…Wh-wh-where’s-s-s our t-t-table?” He stuttered, wobbling slightly, his leg about to give up. 

“I believe it was…” Derby trailed off checking the name card they were given when they arrived, “Table 7.” 

Once they were seated, the Master adjusted his coat, his leg bouncing as he glanced around anxiously, Derby sighed, grabbing a bread roll from the breadbasket. 

Just then a man in a green suit with a white cravat came strolling up, the Master’s face turned pink and he turned away.

“Ah Henry! Long time no see old pal!” the man exclaimed, he had a heavy american accent, he patted the Master on the back, causing him to jump, he looked at Derby, “Last time he and I had an uh…encounter, he was still married!” 

The Master was looking down at his plate, covering his face with his hand, Derby looked between the two, “Were you two friends in the past?” he asked the man, standing up. 

“Yeah something like that,” he replied, looking at him, “He wasn’t as shy last time we met though,” he paused, then said “Who are you?” 

“I could ask the same to you, I am Derby Knight, Master Graves’ personal assistant,” Derby replied, shaking the man's hand. 

“I am Santos Turner,” he said, smiling, “How long have you been working for him?” 

“About six months it’s been…interesting…What's your line of work?” 

“Uh…” Turner’s eyes glanced around “You can say I work…odd jobs…” 

Then a man, with white hair, and tired eyes came up to them, smiling, although he looked slightly uncomfortable.

“Well! Master Graves…I didn’t think you’d show up…you don’t usually…” he noticed Derby, who was chewing on his bread roll again, “Who are you?” 

Derby swallowed before saying, “I am his assistant, Derby Knight.”

“L-l-lord-d-d J-j-john Cl-cl-clarke…” the Master nodded, attempting to stand up to shake his hand, “S-so d-do you kn-know who is g-g-going t-t-to b-be sit-sit-sitting with-th us?” 

Lord Clarke smiled, pulling out a guest list, “Looks like…Sir Paxton Sheppard, his wife and…Raymond and Charles Willis,” he smiled, both men tensed at the names. 

The Master looked down, his finger tapping against the table, his eyes wide and glowing. Derby was looking around to see if the two were nearby. 

“Ar-are you you you you su-su-sure?” The Master stammered, “They-they-they…they uh they…” he couldn’t finish his sentence and started fidgeting with the buttons on his coat.  

“Well I should probably sit down, it’s time for dinner,” Lord John Clarke said, oblivious to the turmoil he had caused in the Master's mind. 

Eventually everyone had settled down to eat, Paxton and his wife were talking to Derby, and the Master was slouched in his seat, staring at the Willis brothers, as they stared back. 

“So…Henry…” one of the twins, Raymond, said eventually, “You haven’t been too active since your incident, hm?” 

The Master shrugged, poking at his food with his fork, “N-n-no,” he mumbled, getting up, “I’m g-g-going t-t-to the re-rest-t-t-ro-room.”  

Derby watched as he limped away, pulling a small vile out of his pocket, the twins grinned, watching as Derby uncapped it. 

Meanwhile back at the manor, Iona was finishing up with the dishes in the kitchen, when she heard someone behind her. She turned around and saw Simon looking up at her, in his pajamas with his teddy bear in hand. 

“Iona,” he whined, “I can’t sleep. I’m scared, and I don’t know why.” 

Iona looked at the boy, who stared back at her with wide eyes, “Simon, there's nothing to be scared of, you’re safe here,” she looked away, “mostly.” 

“Ok…but can you read me another story? Please?” He sniffed, wiping his nose on his sleeve. 

“Alright but only one, it’s late.”

They walked upstairs, going into Simon’s room. Simon looked down at his hands, biting his lip. 

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Simon whispered “I’m just tired of being sick.” 

“I know, I am too, but I’m just trying to keep you safe,” Iona sighed, “Now what story do you want to read?” 

In the meantime, Caroline was sifting through old newspapers in the library with Lily. 

“There has to be something here, right?” She said, more to herself than Lily. 

“I don’t know, maybe we should check the attic tomorrow, Derby said there's a bunch of stuff the Master doesn’t want to see again in there,” Lily pointed out, “and it’s pretty late, we should be getting to bed…” 

Just then the grandfather clock in the library rang loudly, signaling eleven o’clock, Caroline got up, putting the papers away “I wonder when they’ll be back from the banquet…”

“Probably not for a while, from what I know, these things could go until midnight,” Lily said softly.

At the banquet, the guests had finished eating and were now looking at the different charities asking for donations, Master Graves looked slightly lightheaded, but refused to admit it. 

“Ehh Master…” Derby said, looking at the now shaking Master, “are you alright? You look pale…” 

“I-I-I’m-m always-s-s pa-pa-pale,” he stuttered, leaning heavily on his cane, “M-m-my leg hurt-t-t-ts-s-s th-th-though…” 

“Ok…why don’t you sit down?” Derby suggested, guiding the Master back to his seat, the Master slouched down, his face flushing again, “The dance segment of the banquet should start soon,” Derby commented, watching as several servants cleared out tables, “Do you want to find a partner?” 

“N-n-no, defi-fi-finetly n-n-not-t-t, “ The Master stuttered, “p-p-plus every-every-everyone has-s-s has has a part-t-tner already” 

Just then a woman approached the two, the Master tensed. 

“Ah Henry Graves, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you, when was the last time?” she looked thoughtful, then her expression hardened, “Oh yes, my sisters funeral,” she said coldly. 

“G-g-go away,” The Master said, avoiding eye contact, “Sh-she de-de-dese-deserved-” he cut off, his eyes widening. 

“Surely you wouldn’t justify the death of anyone! Especially your own wife, and my own sister!” She exclaimed. 

The Master looked at his glass, sipping it slowly, his eyes glowing, “Ro-ro-ros-s-se y-you d-d-don’t-t-t know wh-what-t-t she did t-t-t-to me."

“You’re probably being dramatic, Eli wouldn’t hurt a fly!” the sister said defensively, “You are the one who hurt her.” 

“It-t-t was-s-s-self- de-de-defense…I th-th-think…” he stuttered, fidgeting with his hands.

“So you still have that stupid stutter, how’d you even get it, you weren’t stuttering the first time I met you, plus what do you mean you think it was self defense? How do you not know?”

The Master was starting to look overwhelmed and nauseous, and took another sip of his

drink in an attempt to calm himself. The drink seemed to make it worse, and he glared at it. 

“Wh-wh-what-t-s-s-s in th-th-this any any any anyway?” he asked, to no one in particular.  Derby looked uneasy, staring at his pockets, then looking at the Master, who was turning a shade of green by now. 

“I think it’s just normal ice tea sir,” Derby said cautiously. The Master shrugged, setting the glass down. 

Then the band started playing, signaling the start of the dancing segment. Derby glanced at the Master who was still slumped in his seat, “I-I-I’m n-n-not dan-dan-dancing.” 

“C’mon, it’d be fun!” Derby said, “I bet there's some maiden who’d like you.” 

“Wo-wo-wo-women ar-are wei-weird,” the Master stuttered, “a-an-and my my my leg d-d-doesn’t-t-t d-d-do danc-dan-dancing.”  

“Fine, but if someone asks, you can’t say no, it’s basic manners,” Derby sighed, pinching his nose, “Well I’m going to dance,” he said walking away. 

The Master watched as Derby found a partner, looking bored, in truth, he felt like he was dying, his heart was pounding, his breathing was fast, he felt hotter than usual, and everything was too much, too bright, too loud, his suit felt too tight as well. He shuddered, feeling as if there was something crawling beneath his skin, he couldn’t think straight, his vision was blurry. He got up, he needed to leave, now. But first he needed to find Derby. Fast. 

He stumbled through the crowd, barely keeping his eyes open, eventually he found Derby, who was dancing with…he couldn’t tell his brain was too fogged. 

He grabbed Derby’s shoulder, “D-d-d-derby we n-n-n-need t-t-to leav-ve…” he gasped, “I I I I I ca-ca-can’t-t-t-t…” 

Derby looked at the Master, a pang of guilt shooting through him, he had caused this after all, he had poisoned the Master, and the symptoms were finally showing. He stopped dancing, grabbing the Master’s hand, and pulling him along. 

The Master stumbled, falling forward but catching himself as they moved through the crowd. Derby suddenly felt a weight on his back and realized the Master was leaning against him heavily, his face no longer pale, he looked overwhelmed, his eyes wide and flickering back and forth. Eventually they made it to the door, Derby pushed it open, the cold hair providing some relief for the Master’s fevered brain. 

The Master’s legs gave way and he crumpled to the ground, wheezing for air, curling in on himself. Derby stared, guilt creeping up on him. 

“Ok..ok…um..” Derby had the antidote to the poison in his pocket…but he’d be fired and lose his job from Willis Inc. if he saved this man’s life. But then again he already had a job outside of Willis Inc. 

The Master’s voice broke through Derby’s train of thought, “D-D-Derby? Am I dying?” he whispered, his stutter gone, “if I am…I’m glad you’re the last thing I see…you were so kind to me…even with your at-t-t-t-titude…”  

Derby bit his lip, this wasn’t who he was! Right? He was not a murderer! He sighed, pulling out the antidote from his pocket, “Here, take this, I…I poisoned you…this is the antidote…”

The Master’s eyes widened, he gagged slightly and whispered “You?” Then he reached out for the antidote, his hands shaking, “Give,” he said barely audible now, Derby noticed blood trailing down his chin. 

Derby uncapped the bottle and poured the antidote into the Master’s mouth, the Master struggled to swallow gagging and sputtering, his hands going up to his hair, tugging harshly. Then his body went limp, his breathing still heavy. 

Just then the door to the mansion opened, out came Raymond and Charles Willis, they skidded to a stop in front of Derby. 

“Took you long enough,” Charles said “It’s about time he’s dead.” 

Raymond rolled his eyes “You moron he’s still alive! Can’t you see he’s breathing? Or are you blind?!” 

Raymond walked over to the Master’s limp body, nudging him with his foot, “But yeah…he is pretty much dead in a few minutes, good job Knight,” Raymond shook Derby’s hand, “Well…we’re going to get back to the party…he seems to be…gone…” he glanced at the Master’s limp body, then at Charles, “C’mon…” 

Derby watched as the twin went back inside, the Master opened one eye, the ‘color’ returning to his face. Then realization dawned upon him. Derby poisoned him. Derby gave him the antidote. Derby poisoned him. Derby gave him the antidote. Was he good or bad? He couldn’t tell anymore. He couldn’t decide, so he just stared at Derby with wide eyes. 

“G-g-get a-away f-f-from m-m-me!” he finally rasped. 

Derby didn’t move. 

“G-g-g-get a-a-away!” he repeated, grabbing his cane, the ruby on top and engraved into it was flickering with the same red color as his eyes. He jabbed his cane at Derby, who stepped back. Master Graves pushed himself up with some effort, grabbing the railing on the stairs he was leaning on.

He started limping towards the carriages, and Derby grabbed his shoulders, “I saved you, I’m not gonna hurt you!” he looked the Master in his eyes, shaking him slightly, “Can’t you see that?” 

“B-b-b-ut-t-t you p-p-p-poisoned-d-d me!” The Master stammered back, trying to pull away from Derby, “I c-c-can't-t-t-tr-trus-s-st you!” he shook his head, grabbing his hair again. 

“I told you before, I’m trying to help you!” Derby growled, the Master was still trying to free himself, “I was hired to kill you, when I actually got to know you I didn’t want to kill you…but then I saw my bosses…and…well…” 

The Master jabbed him in the leg with his cane, “St-st-stop-p-p let-t-t g-go!” he struggled more, “You-you-you’re re-re-re-re-re-reminding me of of of of–” he cut off, his breathing heavy, his eyes glowing brighter than ever.

Derby knew not to let go of him, for that would be risking the Master escaping in his panicked frenzy. Or he would fall down and hurt himself more. 

“Let’s just go home…I can leave if you want me to, but I just want to make sure you get home safely…”

Derby supported the Master as they walked to the carriage, the coachman, who was smoking his pipe, looked annoyed that they were leaving early, but shrugged. Derby assisted Master Graves getting into the carriage. 

Halfway through the ride, Derby suddenly felt a weight against his shoulder and glanced over to see the Master slumped against him. He still had that uneasy face he always wore, but he seemed more vulnerable. Derby did not move, he feared if he did the Master would snap awake instantly.  

They got home after an hour, and Derby carefully picked up the Master who just mumbled something before going limp again. As he walked into the entryway and noticed Iona in the lounge, curled up in a chair with a book. 

“I was waiting for you two…what’s up Master Graves?” She asked, closing her book. 

Derby cleared his throat, adjusting his hold on the Master, “He uh…he had a little too much to drink,” he lied, setting the Master down on the couch. 

“But I thought the Master didn’t drink,” Iona tilted her head, confused. 

Derby was getting flustered “Well uh– why do you think there's a wine cellar if he doesn’t drink?” He snapped, picking the Master back up, “I’m going to bring him to his room, then go to bed, and I suggest you do the same.”

Iona nodded, standing up and heading up the stairs, Derby followed, the Master twitched, mumbling something. As Derby set him down on the bed, a cloud of dust blew up from the mattress. Derby took off the Masters suit jacket, tie, shoes, and glasses, setting them on the table next to him. 

Derby attempted to unbutton the first button on Master's shirt but he rolled over, groaning slightly, his arms wrapping around himself. Derby ran a hand through his hair. How could he have done this? At least the Master was alright now…Derby looked down again and to his alarm, he saw the Master thrashing as if pushing something (or someone) off. The Master’s cane lit up brightly as he opened his mouth.

“Eli...n-no…stop….”

Untitled Story

By: Danny Cianchetta

Prologue

It was a cold, dark night, with the silence broken only by the occasional howl of a wolf. Inside his abode, Lord Castor uttered worriedly. “They’re coming.” He would repeat over and over to himself. Outside his window, Lord Castor saw a group of people in black cloaks carrying a black standard with a red hand in the center. Castor screamed and picked up his sword. “Stay strong.” He said. A loud knock resonated through the house, followed by a voice saying “Lord William Castor. The Order of the Infernal Hand has come for its payment. Come to the door at once, or we will come to you.”

Castor resolutely remained in his study, his sword ready, shaking in fear. There were footsteps up the stairwell and then the door flew open. In the doorway were about ten cultists in their black cloaks, wearing masks bearing a lachrymose visage, and holding serrated red swords. A large, powerful cultist walked up to Castor and said “Your debt to Prince Malvagion is due. Come forward, William Castor.”

“N-n-no.” Stuttered Castor.

“Very well. Seize him.”

The cultists grabbed Castor’s arms and one put their blade up to his neck. The cultist who spoke drew a staff topped with a black opal, which he put up to Castor’s heart. 

“P-please! I beg of thee! Let me live! I shall make it worth your while.”

“Hmmmm… No.”

The black opal on Castor’s chest became very cold, and the cold began to spread to his body. Castor looked down at his heart in horror as he realized he was turning to stone.

“Let him go. He won’t go anywhere.” Commanded the cultist with the staff as his fellow cultists freed Castor.

Castor wailed “Why!? Why must you do this to me!? Oh, the pain!”

“You did this to yourself, Lord Castor.”

Castor felt the cold spreading through him. It was not like the cold of the night outside, but rather an unmeltable glacier of cold that chills the very soul. He felt his legs freeze in place, his arms freeze in place, and soon his neck froze as well.

“And now, I depart, never to return. Goodbye, fair mortal realm. You have pleased me so. I leave all my money to my porter.” Said Castor as his face froze in its position.

The cultist with the staff approached Castor’s petrified body and began to examine it. On the body’s chest, he found a small blue gemstone. He picked it up, put it in his pocket, and said “Begin the rite. His excellence must have what belongs to him.”

The cultists used their swords to carve a sigil on the floor and began to chant in the infernal tongue. The rite went on for hours, with the cultists chanting and groveling, until the sigil caught fire, rose up in the air, and rotated to face vertically. Out from the spinning disk of flame stepped a very tall, muscular man with grey skin and red eyes wearing an ornate suit of black armor. Upon his head were the black antlers of a moose and a helmet made of the same black steel as his armor. The staff cultist rose from his knees and approached the person from the portal. “Prince Malvagion. I have procured the soul of Lord Castor.”

“Ah, excellent. I will take it.” Replied Prince Malvagion in a voice smooth as silk.

“My Prince? Whose debt must we collect next?”

“I do not know. Remain here, I shall return.”

The cultists went on to spend the following weeks living in Castor’s Manor. One day, the staff cultist was sitting in Castor’s study, reading the lore on his shelves. He had removed his hood and mask to reveal his large head with messy blonde hair, brown eyes, and a pointed nose.

“Mhm. Ah. Interesting.” He muttered repeatedly.

The petrified body of Castor was still on the floor. The cultist walked over to admire his latest collected debt. He looked the body straight in the eyes for minutes, and then it dawned upon him. He had murdered this innocent man in cold blood, to collect debt for an evil master. The cultist knew what he had to do. Immediately, he doffed his robe, picked up one of Castor’s halberds, and dove through the window. A minute after he had jumped out of the window, another cultist walked into the study. “Brother Karluk!? Brother Karluk!?” She called.

She looked for him all around the manor, to no avail.

“Have any of you seen Brother Karluk? ”She asked her fellow cultists, who were congregated in the parlor.

“No. But there is something more important at hand. Lord Malvagion is coming to announce his next debt.”

A ball of flame appeared in the center of the parlor, which exploded into the form of Prince Malvagion.

“My loyal followers. Your next debt to collect is that of Silner Verthris, an elf who is gambling with a separate manifestation of myself as we speak. Being overconfident, he bet his soul, a mortal mistake, seeing as my Eye of Flame can see into the future. He will lose, and you will collect his soul.”

“Yes, my Prince.” Said the cultist who searched for Karluk, who now was holding the black pearl staff. “Thy shall be done.”

“Very well.” Said Malvagion as he turned back into a sphere of flame.

“It looks like Sister Filena is leading the hunt for this debt, seeing as Karluk is gone.” Said a cultist

“Yes; I am.” Filena announced to the crowd.

“From now on, I shall bear the staff of petrification. I am the chief debt collector!” Her face twisted into an evil grin as she began to cackle loudly.

“My siblings, together we will find and kill Silner Verthris! FOR PRINCE MALVAGION!!” She announced as the cultists vacated the manor, bearing their black and red standard.

      Chapter 1

Silner Verthris was sitting at the card table alongside his friend, Thur Bellin, the innkeeper, Wilfred Quaintoak, a merchant named Suler Krin, and a mysterious hooded stranger. “I bet my soul. Either way, nobody’s hand is better than mine!” gloated Scilner.

“Hmph.” mocked the stranger.

The game proceeded, and soon only Silner and the stranger remained. Silner was on the verge of winning, with his hand of cards that he believed to be perfect, when the hooded stranger played the winning card.

“Don’t make any promises you cannot keep, Silner Verthris. You now owe me your soul as debt. My debt collectors will take it no matter the cost. Goodbye, Mr. Verthris.” said the stranger as he walked into the alley and disappeared.

Silner and Thur Bellin walked out of the inn. Silner asked Thur “Do you really think that stranger can steal my soul?”

“I wouldn’t count on it. He’s probably just some lunatic who thinks he’s a god.”

“You see a lot of those around here.”

The two friends laughed loudly and kept walking through the town, visiting various stores. Inside the blacksmith’s store, Thur and Silner felt an aura of uneasiness, especially when the blacksmith was around. He would look at them for a long time, and then look at a small paper. Silner and Thur were carousing through the blacksmith shop when suddenly all the chatter from outside stopped. A man was running through town holding a halberd with a determined look on his face. “SILNER VERTHRIS! YOUR LIFE IS IN DANGER! RUN!!!”

The man from outside burst through the door and grabbed Silner’s shoulders. “Silner Verthris! You must leave this place now! The Order of the Infernal Hand is coming for your soul!”

“How do you know? Who are you? How do you know who I am?”

“My name is Karluk. Do not ask me how I know about you and the demon cult, there is no time to explain. Run from here, quickly!”

Just as Karluk mentioned the demon cult, the blacksmith quickly drew a sword and said “You, Elf. Your soul is due to my patron. Come here.”

The blacksmith began to approach Silner with his sword, and Silner began to panic. He had never learned to fight before, and he highly doubted he could fend off a trained fighter such as this blacksmith. As the blacksmith closed in, several thoughts passed through Silner’s fear-stricken head: run, hit the blacksmith with a weapon, or convince the blacksmith that he was not Scilner Verthris. He decided to do the third.

“Please! I am not Silner Verthris! My name is Salluner Varrith!”

“Pfft. I saw the scrying sphere. You are Silner Verthris. Now DIE!!” responded the blacksmith as he swung his sword, which caused a large, stinging cut on Silner’s stomach. Silner recoiled in pain before Thur picked up a hammer off the wall and hit the blacksmith in the face with it. The blacksmith screamed as he attempted to strike at Thur to no avail. After a minute or so, the blacksmith had disarmed Thur, leaving him prone. Just as the blacksmith was about to deliver the kill blow to Thur, the point of a halberd went through his heart.

“The Order will have its revenge!” Moaned the blacksmith as he fell to the ground.

“We must go, the Order is coming.” said Karluk

“Where!?” wailed Silner.

“Far away from here. It is for your own good.”

“Ehhh fine.”

“Good. The three of us should set out at once.” said Karluk, as they stepped out the door of the blacksmith shop and onto the street.

“Your army training really paid off this time, Thur.” remarked Silner.

“What can I say, the Dwarvish army is practically invincible!” joked Thur in response.

The trio walked in silence for about an hour, when they had arrived at the very outskirts of town.

“I am hungry. Shall we stop at this eatery for some time?” asked Karluk.

“Yes, long have I waited to eat some roast venison.” Answered Thur, which caused Silner’s mouth to water.

“Very well. Let us eat!” said Karluk as they entered the eatery. Inside there were pine tables with benches to sit upon, torches on pillars providing a warm glow, a bar in front of a full liquor cabinet, with waiters and waitresses walking around holding trays of food. The trio spent some time there, eating venison, drinking ale, and talking about their lives. Silner told stories of his childhood among the nomads, Thur told of his experience in the Great Mountain War between the Dwarves and the Orcs, but Karluk was reluctant to mention his past.

“Come on, Karluk! Where did you come from? How did you grow up?” Silner asked constantly.

“I shall tell you another day. I have a very dark past.” replied Karluk.

“Oh, very well.” whined Silner.

“Let us go. We never know when the Order of the Infernal Hand will get here.” said Karluk

“Yes, it is wise to keep traveling.” agreed Thur.

Thur paid the waitress, and the trio set out on the road. After a few minutes of walking, the sun had begun to set, and after a few more minutes, the area was covered in the deep red silk that is the twilight. Karluk stopped for a moment to marvel at the crimson sun, but otherwise they did not stop walking.

It was roughly 11:00 p.m.  when Thur heard distant footsteps across the field they were in. Karluk drew his halberd, Thur stood on guard, and Silner began quivering in fear.

“W-w-w-w-w-who’s there!?” stuttered Silner.

Silence.

“W-w-w-w-w-who’s there!?” stuttered Silner once more.

Silence.

After a second, the same footsteps happened, and a rabbit emerged from the grass.

“PHEW!” exhaled Silner.

Suddenly, a wolf emerged from the grass and bit the rabbit. Karluk chased off the wolf, and Silner knelt down to tend to the rabbit. Within minutes, he had prepared a bandage for the rabbit.

“I should take this rabbit with us, so I can watch him heal.” decreed Silner.

“Very well.” Said Karluk and Thur in unison as they recommenced walking through the field, but the rabbit was on Silner’s shoulder.

“Onward to safety!” said Silner.