The things were still behaving oddly. Jane had to replace the drawstring meant to keep the mirror cover in place with elastic because not even their most secure knots would stay tied and keep it in place all night. The thing in the wardrobe never stopped moving anymore, though it still did not knock on the walls. Janet had to set up fans in the forge and ditch the trunk cover all together, even with the dropping temperatures outside. The thing in the circle started to take on definite shapes of its own, even when no one stood nearby to mimic. After making their rounds, the three companions went over to visit Jimmy, and bring him up to date on the game so far. They found him in the back yard raking up leaves under an old oak tree that survived the clearing and construction of ten years previous.

“Good Morning, Jimmy,” Magnar called out in the near silent language of rabbits. Jimmy looked up immediately. For an instant of surprise, they, all three, saw the wild looking out of Jimmy’s eyes. It did not seem to phase anyone and passed as soon as it came, so they could all pretend it stayed away.

“Good morning to you as well,” Jimmy said with a wry twist to his lips.

“We are wondering if you had any more official visits, or heard anything more about the investigation into the officer’s misadventure,” Marius asked, settling on a low trailing branch, not far over Maximus’s head.

“Most of the activity in the area seems to be focused on the disappearing children, though there is some speculation that the disappearances are linked.

“Other than Special Agent Whitfield’s visit to discuss botany, I do not seem to be of any particular interest to either the federal or local authorities. The Neighborhood Watch are not-so-subtly keeping an eye on me, but they are trying to do that with all of the major characters in this particular drama, with varying degrees of success.”

“I wonder what effect all this searching and surveillance has had on the Curse Keeper and Mouche,” Maximus barked.

“I imagine if you checked today, you would discover he has moved.” Jimmy smiled.

“Really?” Magnar asked. “Why?”

“He is a very clever man. Even given his unfortunate condition, he would not have neglected to plan for some sort of pursuit under the circumstances.” Jimmy’s smile grew a bit more pronounced.

“And you are not going to tell us what it is,” Magnar accused. Jimmy did not respond to him either. The three companions left the man to his rake, leaves, and secrets, and went looking for Merrylegs. Maybe the frog would be able to find a way through the organic barrier to check on the Curse Keeper. Unfortunately, Neither Maximus, Marius, nor Magnar could not find so much as a damp footprint. Eventually, they gave up and headed toward the Dark Fae’s Victorian dwelling.

No immediate signs of life manifested there either. Marius perched on a window ledge and exchanged a few words with the ghost beyond the glass. Well, maybe not an exchange. He spoke to her, but I do not know if she spoke back. In any case, when Marius stopped she disappeared. A very short time later, Medea came streaking around the house with her fur bushed out as much as her short coat would allow. 

Medea stopped dead at the end of the drive, staring at Maximus and Magnar. She yowled and jumped straight up in the air, coming down with her back arched and spitting at Marius when he spoke to her from the other direction.

“Are you all right, Medea? She did not hurt you did she?” In spite of the way Medea reacted, concern filled Marius’s gentle voice.

“She?” Medea hissed. Stress shaped every line of her body, but she clearly fought to regain her feline calm.

“I asked your house ghost to let you know we were outside wanting to talk to you,” Marius explained. “Unfortunately, it is hard to tell just how much a ghost will understand, and how much he, she, or it is capable of doing on such a limited acquaintance.”

Medea stopped arching and bushing to an extent where the others felt safe in approaching to a more conversational distance. She started to lick her fur into order, speaking between licks in a passable version of her usual feline aplomb. “In spite of the usual,” lick, “feline affinity for spirits,” lick, “and ghosts of all sorts,” lick, lick, “I was unaware that this house was haunted.”

Medea turned to attend to her other flank for a time, until Magnar, at least, fidgetted, wondering if she had finished. Maximus and Marius waited with supreme patience and good manners while Medea put herself back together.

“A pair of very cold hands, that I could not see, picked me up from my catnappery on the couch. Invisible, and implacable arms, ditto, carried me through the house to the backdoor. This portal opened without the sort of creak one might expect, and I was deposited on the back porch, and nudged in this direction.” Finished with her ablutions, Medea stared up at the clear blue sky.

Eventually she added, “In retrospect, the handling was polite and gentle. Next time…if there is a next time…I shall keep that in mind.”

“Are you all right, Medea?” Marius asked. “I would not have asked for her help if I did not think that you should take the ghostly interaction in stride.”

Medea stiffened, just a little, but enough that Magnar shuffled over to press a big, warm flank against hers. Medea tried to scowl up at the rabbit of unusual size, but he did not mind.

“My Master has had some more… disagreements with the Neighborhood Watch. They seem to think that they have something in particular over him. I honestly think that if they were one whit less afraid of the Master that they would not hesitate to move against him openly, confident that they could weather any public or official censure.”

“It is nice to feel certain,” Maximus said, matching Medea’s offhand.

“Even when one is entirely wrong.” Marius added.

“It might be nice to see those nasty cultists get what is coming to them, but I am just as happy if they stay frightened,” Magnar admitted, rubbing his chin over Medea’s head.

Medea batted at the big bunny with both forepaws, though she kept her claws sheathed. Medea turned her back on the insult to her dignity, though she did not step away.

“Did you gentle beings have some purpose to this visit? Or is it just to add… spice to my day?”

“We wondered if anything came of your idea to discover the Curse Keeper’s other pied-à-terre,” Maximus said, following the change of conversation without resistance.

“Yes, it did.” Medea sat up straighter in pure pride. “You were quite right about his… orientation, Mouche I mean, and his manners. I put that together with some of the stories I know about games past, and what you let slip about your suspicions about who he and his master might be… Then I just asked the next time I saw Mouche.

“He and his master are far more isolated than Mouche is really comfortable with for this game. Once I assured him that I was on his side, and I would not trade or give away the information to anyone I was not sure shared our inclinations, he traded me both the other pre-moon death sites in exchange for as much as I know about the Officer Affair, and everything gathered on Mrs. Hillary and her cultish friends.”

“Modest requests, all considered,” Maximus mused.

“Are you willing to share or trade for the locations?” Marius asked with a little bow.

“He said that I should share. He mentioned you three by name, specifically,” Medea said. She shrank down to her usual, slightly uncertain posture. “Shall I show them to you? I meant to go by your place with the information this evening, but I have time enough now, if you are free.”

“We would be delighted to accompany you,” Magnar said, but Maximus turned so that he could look back towards their own domain.

“If the cultists are growing more aggressive again, after their initial checks; I think one of us should go back and keep an eye on the ladies. I would hate to see anything happen to any of them because of all this.”

Medea tried not to goggle at Maximus, but his attitude did not phase anyone else.

“That is not such a bad idea,” Magnar agreed. “Make sure to give Jan a big, slobbery dog kiss for me when you check on her. It should make her laugh.”

“We will escort the good ladycat along her way while she helps us to the information we were not clever enough to gather for ourselves. Go ahead and see to the ladies we leave behind at their work,” Marius said, bowing first towards Medea, then back in the direction of their house.

“Right,” Maximus barked.

“Thank you for your help, Medea.” Maximus said, turning back for a bit of eye contact to make the sentiment proper. Then he trotted off on his errand.

Medea looked after Maximus for a long moment, then she turned to the bird and bunny watching her. She could not quite find the words to ask or comment on how odd she found Maximus’s…‘concern’ might perhaps cover the idea, though ‘priorities’ might suit better.

Though no real expression showed on the feathery face, Medea grew certain that Marius would be smiling at her if he had anything more mobile than a beak for smiling with. “He is a very good guard dog, protective.” Marius said, and with that semi-explanation, she made do.

“Lets go to the southern site first. It is the closer of the two,” Medea said at last, and walked off. Magnar hopped sedately at her side, leaving off any of his more energetic antics while Marius ghosted along overhead.

After a couple miles, Marius and Magnar crossed into territory new to them. Marius sank in the air to drift along near the others. “How much further is this first site this way?”

“Several miles yet,” Medea half-appologised.

“And the second,” he asked.

“Not much further to the south, but a  good distance to the east.”

“Well drat,” Marius said, with some force, but no real heat.

“What is it?” Magnar asked, more because tradition demanded someone to ask the question than because he could not figure out the answer on his own.

“I will have to do all my calculations again. These will pull the center well away from the East Wood Haven wood, and it had such a promising depressed circle running under those trees.”

Marius drifted back into the sky. A major road where it crossed the ‘T’ of another in the middle of a bunch of fields ahead. He needed to scout out a gap in the flow of traffic or a better path for the earth bound to cross. The area was lightly accented by a filling station and a half dozen shops in a small strip-mall tucked into one corner of the intersection, but this was hardly the sort of area to have an animal crosswalk available.

Medea and Magnar cut through one corner of a field of dry brown soybean plants, whispering against their fur and onto a sunken, muddy track that may once have been either dirt road, or an old stream bed long diverted to irrigate the surrounding fields until the banks collapsed into a near flat hollow.

They drew near to another patch of scrub woodland left wild between field and field. “It is in here,” Medea announced, following the almost track where it plunged into the trees.

After the bright sunshine, the new gloom fell like an unwelcome blanket over the head, and it took a little time to shake it off well-enough to see properly. In almost the exact center of the little wood someone, somehow had left an old, single-wide trailer, overgrown with blackberries until it blended into the rest of the greenery, only just growing visible as the growing chill stripped away the veiling leaves.

“Is he inside?” Magnar asked, his voice a little too loud for the private-feeling gloom of the place.

“He shouldn’t be,” Medea whispered. “Mouche said they should be at the other location today.”

“I will go check,” Marius volunteered. He perched among the thorns, peering into every window before returning.

“The place looks empty, but it is far better appointed inside than you might think from the exterior; Wood paneling, heavy velvet curtains, very good furniture, et cetera. If one had learned to be comfortable without electricity or running water, one could do quite well here.”

“That sounds about right,” Magnar nodded.

Medea did not have an opinion to share, so she turned to lead the way to the second location.

“The last location is more like the first. The Curse Keeper opened up another part of the old mines. Instead of burrowing horizontally into the side of a hill, this opening was a deep shaft stabbing deep into the earth. The Curse Keeper set up housekeeping in a cross tunnel about twenty feet down,” Medea explained as they walked.

“I hope they have an easier back entrance,” Magnar said after a little thought. “Dogs are not famous for their climbing abilities.”

“True,” Medea agreed, a little smugly.

Medea, Magnar, and Marius knew something was afoot well before they reached the old mine shaft. They had reached a real stretch of woodland among all the farms, and the shadows under the trees contained a small army of uniformed humans.

First, the three animals had to slip through an outer ring of local police. These mostly faced outward, tasked with keeping out civilians.

After that, Marius ranged ahead, guiding his friends away from teams of scouts, and others detailed to guard or seal ventilation and secondary access points. When they found the knot of federal agents, state police, and local authorities quietly organizing the operation, Medea led them off to one side and into a little knot of bushes, comfortable enough for persons of their size, yet safe from the semi-random trampings of the intent humans.

“I don’t know how much closer we can manage and still avoid notice,” Medea mewed, watching one little group all in black and body armor checking their weapons and other gear while another group prepped a squat, tracked robot with its own gear and a complicated climbing, or perhaps lowering, harness to get it down to the tunnel entrance.

“It does look as if the Curse Keeper and Mouche will be too busy with guests to have much time for additional visitors,” Magnar quipped, trying to disperse some of the tension in the air.

“Where, exactly, is the mine shaft?” Marius asked from his perch overhead.

“About two hundred fifteen yards in that direction,” Medea said, pointing beyond the softly chattering knots of  humans with a thrust of her nose.

“Then, we should have all the information we really need,” Marius said.

Even though both Magnar and Medea agreed with that assessment, they lingered on scene, anyway. The two advance teams moved out, and the scene grew more still and quiet except for muttered comments, and the occasional report filtering in through their radios.

“Have you noticed Special Agent Whitfield over there?” Magnar whispered.

“No, where?” Medea hissed her reply, a soft exhalation of sound.

“He is standing at the back of the van all filled with monitors and other equipment, with the other people wearing bullet proof vests over ordinary civilian clothes.” Magnar nudged her gently in the right direction.

“I did not recognise him without the purple scarf and purple mask.” Marius admitted.

“It’s too warm for a scarf today,” Medea complained. “The weather in this place can not seem to make up its mind whether it is going to step forth boldly into Autumn, or hang back in late Summer for a…”

I am quite certain that Medea intended to finish that sentence with ‘little longer’, but she did not get the chance.

A sudden, deep rumbling shook the landscape, felt as much through the feet as through the ears. A great plume of dust and dirt fountained into the sky from the direction of the mine shaft, with lesser eruptions from several of the other guarded entrances, and at least two spots that took the authorities completely by surprise.

After less than an instant for shocked surprise, Agent Whitfield and two of the others started shouting the rest into frenzied, yet somehow still organized, motion.

Marius all but fell to the ground where he could exchange speaking glances with Magnar.

Medea focused too hard on the unravelling scene to notice, without thinking she mewed, “Oh, poor Mouche,” a sentiment that would have quite surprised her only a few days before.

“We should go,” Magnar urged while Marius hopped his way up and out of the brambles to a spot where he had enough clear air for flight.

“Hmm?” Medea asked, turning her head towards Magnar, but not quite managing to pull her eyes off all the activity.

“We need to go.” Magnar emphasised the words with a nudge. “This area is going to be overrun with humans and emergency vehicles soon, and we do not want to get squished.”

“Oh, but…” Medea pled with her eyes when she could not find the words.

“Marius will stay and let us know what happens, unless you want to find a tree branch of your own from which to observe,” Magnar offered.

Medea gave the idea some serious thought, but eventually departed with the bunny.

When they had progressed well past the humans’ outer perimeter, and crossed the main road on an overpass designed for the local light rail, Medea reopened conversation. “Do you suppose the collapse was natural, some defence of the Curse Keeper’s, or an attack by one of the others?

“There are several players who probably don’t understand the meaning behind the phrase ‘collateral damage’ and at least one or two who would rejoice in additional bloodshed.”

“We are not even certain what happened yet, much less who is responsible,” Magnar pointed out.

“But we have to do something,” Medea said, surprising them both more than a little.

“We will do something,” Magnar said with absolute certainty.

“What?”

“To start with, we shall exercise greater caution.”

“Pff! Then what?” 

“If I come up with anything you can help with I will let you know, if you will do the same.”

Medea agreed with a grunt. Thoughts of just how or what they could do about just what exactly occupied Medea the rest of the way and past where Magnar left her catnapping on her own back porch.

Magnar went home to report new developments to Maximus, but found the house empty except for things and projects neatly set aside. After a brief consultation with two things, one with broad antlers and the other on two feet with quite small ears, who waited for him in the circle, Magnar traced the missing to John Feste’s back garden, and the remains of quite a good picnic.

Maximus took the news as a good, stoic, dog should. “Mr. Feste came over to borrow a cup of coffee, and the ladies decided to feed him. He did not want to intrude on our space, and could not, in good conscience invite us into his, so we ended up out here. There is talk of a joint shopping venture sometime soon.

“Jan and Jane are threatening to descend on the poor man for a thorough house cleaning. Mr. Feste tried to pass off his lack of hospitality as game and power secrets to protect, but the ladies quickly got him to admit that the place is just too messy for company. The poor man has trouble finding energy for housework these days, and the dirty house just makes the depression worse.”

“I hope Mr. Feste knows that he has nothing to fear from Jan and Jane’s threats.” Magnar watched the poor man almost smiling as he sat as the center of the female chatter.

“Right. It is when Janet decides something needs to be done that things will start to happen,” Maximus agreed.

“And she will not bother to threaten and give him time to assemble any  defences.” Magnar smirked. Janet looked over at Maximus and Magnar, lifting one eyebrow, and they decided to change the subject.

“Is Merrylegs around?” Magnar asked.

“I have not seen him,” Maximus said, as if admitting to a dereliction of duty.

“We will have to warn him, later,” Magnar said, and Maximus nodded.

The wind picked up later in the day, so Marius stayed on watch at home while Maximus and Magnar went frog hunting. Along the way, they saw the mid-size sedan with government plates stopped at a stop sign, facing them. Special Agent Whitfiled idled there, taking the time to catch the eye of both dog and rabbit. Neither one stopped, and eventually the car drove on.

Magnar and Maximus found Merrylegs swimming idly around his fountain, and it occurred to me that the fountain could be a hopeful sign. John Feste could not find it in himself to upkeep his own quarters, but Merrylegs’ fountain was kept clean and well maintained.

“There you are,” Magnar said, bounding up to the fountain edge.

“Here I am,” Merrylegs agreed. 

“We were looking for you earlier,” Maximus explained.

“I noticed all the picnic leftovers in the kitchen, but I was out sleuthing,” Merrylegs crawled up onto the edge of the second tier basin.

“Upon whom did you bend your inquisitive eye?” Maximus asked.

“I got word that Mrs.Hillary would be in the city for most of the day, so I went nosing around her place as well as someone with my disadvantages might do.” Merrylegs smiled an impressively wide, froggy smile. When Magnar started to look puzzled, Merrylegs added, “Having no real nose to speak of.”

Magnar snickered and Maximus asked, “Did you go inside?” 

“No, I just peeped into every window I could find. I had an exciting moment or two when I thought I caught sight of the pentacle bowl on a desk, but the details were wrong.” Merrylegs looked disgusted.

“Have you noticed that none of the game items seem to be around? Either that or people who have them are being unusually sneaky. We have not caught a hint of either wand, the ring, the icon, or the bowl.” At first, Merrylegs sounded disgruntled. Then a wave of fear washed over his face. “I hope that doesn’t mean someone has found them all, or even most. That could go particularly hard for anyone else.”

Magnar started to say something, but Maximus bumped him. “Did you find anything else of interest in your search?” Maximus asked.

“The Hillarys’ daughter sat on the floor in a bare upper room. She was leaning against the wall reading and petting her father’s head on her lap like a dog. She had been crying. 

“There is something very wrong with that man.”

“I wonder if the spell animating him is wearing down, or if what she puts him to has broken down part of his personality,” Maximus mused. Then he had to explain about Mr. Hillary’s lack of humanity and independence.

“If that is true, I am surprised that the girl is still alive,” Merrylegs said, piling on the blasé to subdue the rising horror.

“She is of far more use to Mrs.Hillary alive and healthy, at least until the thirty-first,” Maximus said with a distinct growl rumbling under the cool tone.

“Oh no,” Merrlegs said, his green skin paling. “You mean a sacrifice. My master is going to go insane when I tell him.”

“You may tell him,” Maximus growled.

While he took a deep calming breath, Magnar put in, “With absolute certainty.”

Maximus glanced at Magnar then finished the sentence. “That the sacrifice will not be allowed.”

Magnar nodded. Then he turned to stare at the back of John Feste’s house for a bit. “You might also point out that, after her rescue, Lynne might need someone to look after her, if you think it might help.”

Merrylegs froze for a long time as a dozen different reactions fought it out in his head. Finally, they settled into a temporary truce, and Merrylegs murmured, “That is a thought.”

Maximus and Magnar left it there, and offered a distraction in the form of their news about the Curse Keeper. Merrylegs said very little, though he gave enough feedback to reassure them that he took the information in cleanly.

When they ran out of news, Magnar and Maximus left the frog in peace and walked home. Scattered bands of cloud streamed across the growing face of the moon.

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