“Hmph.” Gertie crossed her arms and looked away.
I cleared my throat. “I can understand why no one around here wants to do anything about it, then. But, here’s the thing. There’s really only one way to deal with a werewolf. They don’t see reason, and I’m not going to be able to talk to it. If I do this, it’s going to have to be removed, permanently.”
“We understand, Mr. Grandfather,” Mrs. Reynolds said quietly. “As do the Carvers. Do what you must, and we’ll deal with the aftermath, together as friends and neighbors. As it should be.”
I nodded, and took my leave. This wasn’t quite as cut and dry as I hoped it would be, but sometimes, things need to happen the way that they’re going to.
I went back outside and parked myself on a bench down the street from the house. The moon was full tonight, a fact which was going to make the werewolf his most powerful. I took out my gun and whispered “werewolf” to it, setting the little, metal ball that came out to whatever would do the most damage. In this case, I was guessing that meant silver.
I didn’t have long to wait. Down the street, a figure was coming this way, long legs eating up the distance quickly, as it moved from one pool of light from the street lamps to another. It moved rapidly, at times dropping down to run on all fours, then rising again, and loping along on two. It didn’t hesitate as it approached the women’s house, but jumped up the stairs leading to the doorway and banged on it savagely.
He was huge, fully eight feet tall, and powerfully muscled. His legs had an extra joint in them, so that when he went on all fours, he could run even more quickly than on two legs. Gray fur covered him from head to toe, and there was a bushy tail growing from his rear. A long muzzle, filled with large, sharp teeth, thrust out from his face, and his pointed ears twitched on top of his head.
“Hey,” I called out, standing up and throwing my cloak back over my shoulder. “Ronald!”
The werewolf spun around, lips pulled back from his muzzle and a low growl rumbling up from his chest. He looked me over, his eyes roaming up and down, and he leaped off the steps and started toward me, moving slowly, stalking me.
“You might want to stop,” I said, knowing full well that he wasn’t going to listen to me.
He didn’t. He threw his head back and unleashed a howl that echoed off the buildings lining the block. I didn’t see anyone peer out of a window to see what was going on, not that I took my eyes off of Ronald for long. They knew. Word spread through the neighborhood that a Nuisance Man had been called in to take care of one of their own, and although they might not like it, they knew it was necessary. Some problems are too big to handle alone.
I raised my gun and sighted along it, aiming at Ronald’s heart. Werewolves were big, fast, and brutal. If you’re going to put one down, you better do it quickly, or else it might be you hitting the street.
“Last chance, Ronald.”
No change. Instead, he charged, and I was out of options. I squeezed the trigger and with a bang the little, metal ball flew out and took Ronald directly in the chest, right where his heart was. The werewolf froze in his tracks, a surprised look on his face, and then he started to turn, as if to run away.
Instead, he crashed to the ground, and lay still. A moment later he started to shrink, the fur melting off of his body and the muzzle becoming a normal nose again. In a few seconds, there was a perfectly normal, nude man, dead on the ground.
Doors opened along the street, and people began to come out. I saw a middle aged couple, distraught and holding on to each other. Gertie, Mrs. Reynolds and the other women from their house came out, as well as other neighbors.
“Thank you, Mr. Grandfather,” Mrs. Reynolds said to me, her voice quiet, and tears shining in her eyes.
I was about to walk away, not wanting to be an intruder on this scene any longer than I needed to be, when Gertie spoke up.
“What the hell was that?” she said.
Glancing over at her, I saw that she was looking around, a frown on her face.
“What, dear?” Mrs. Reynolds asked.
“That noise. Like…I don’t know, like some crying, or wailing, or something.”
I looked around. It wouldn’t have surprised me if Ronald’s mother was letting loose, but the woman was still huddled within the protective circle of her husband’s arm, both of them weeping quietly.
“I don’t hear anything,” Mrs. Reynolds said.
“How can you not? It’s coming from right over there!”
Gertie raised her arm and pointed across the street, but there was nothing there. Nothing that I could see anyway, and like Mrs. Reynolds, I couldn’t hear anything either.
“You’re tired, dear. It’s been a long day.”
Mrs. Reynolds crossed to her friend and took her by the arm, steering her back to their house. Gertie let herself be led, but continued to stare at the spot that she had pointed at. I stood and watched, already forgotten, and then turned and made my way home.
Sometimes, my job really sucks.
One of the nice things about being a Nuisance Man, which I’ve mentioned before, is the flexibility. I did the werewolf job, and although I understood the necessity of it, it still left me feeling down, so I took the next few days off. Lilly understood, and as long as I wasn’t out totally wasting every day with Jessup, she didn't have a problem with it.
But, as all things do, the feeling passed, and the money started getting low, and it was time to consider going back to work. I accompanied Lilly back to the watchhouse, meaning to check the Board again and see what was on it. I didn’t have to take a job yet, and was only planning on it if there was something truly worth it. Someone who the world would be better off without.
“Hey Sarge,” I made my normal greeting as we entered.
“Duke, Lilly. I was hoping you’d be in today. Come on over here. I’ve got something I want to show you.”
Huh. Usually when Sarge calls me over like that, it means that he has something pretty big. Last time it was to combat the gargoyles that were terrorizing the city, but I wasn’t aware of anything like that going on.
He slid a paper across the counter to us. It was the same form that was used to post a notice on the Board, with room for a picture, a description of the supposed crime, and the contact information for the one posting it.
This one was done differently. Instead of a nuisance, something that needed to be eliminated, it was a picture of what looked like a victim. The man in the picture was most assuredly dead, but he died with a look of extreme horror on his face. His eyes were wide and staring, and his mouth locked open as if he was screaming in his final moments. And there were dark stains running from his ears to the collar of his shirt.
“Is that…?” I asked, bending closer to get a better look.
“Blood,” Lilly said. “Duke, what does that remind you of?”
I shrugged my shoulders and looked at her. “No idea. Should it remind me of anything?”
“Think back a few days, to the last time you walked me to work. The same day you took the werewolf job.”
For a moment, I didn’t know what she was talking about, but then it hit me, and I remembered the man who ran into me that morning with the same wild-eyed expression and blood running from his ears. I looked at the posting again, and it was definitely not the same man, but the similarities were remarkable.
“He’s not the only one, either,” Sarge said, sliding two more notices across the counter. The people in them, one male dwarf, one female human, looked the same. Like they died terrified and screaming, with blood flowing from their ears.
All three notices were posted by the same person. Someone who truly cared. Father Magnus. He submitted them with the plea that if anyone had any idea what could be doing this, to please contact the Watch, and then see him at the Temple of the Good God for their reward. No mention of what that reward would be, but with Magnus, you could trust that it would be fair.
“Huh,” I said. “This is a new one o
n me. What about you, Lilly?”
“Not sure either,” she said, and then hesitated. “But…I may know of something…let me do some research. Don’t take anything off the Board right now, and hang around nearby. I might have something shortly.”
“I guess we’re going to investigate this?”
“It’s Father Magnus. What do you think?”
She marched off to her office and I stayed put with Sarge, looking at the horrified faces on the notices.
“Looks like a weird one,” he said after a minute.
“Yeah, plus Father Magnus is involved. Well, not involved, but concerned. Maybe I should go speak to him.”
“Sure, sure,” he said, nodding. “That’s a great idea. Head on down there so that when Lilly comes up looking for you, you won’t be here. I may not know much, but I do know this. When you’ve got someone like her that’s willing to accept such a ridiculous last name as yours, you shouldn’t piss her off.”
“What? What do you mean accept my last name?”
“Open your eyes, Duke,” he snorted.
I was flabbergasted. Still, his point was well taken. I was fine on my own before I ever met Lilly, but now that I was with her…well, yeah.
“Tell her I’ll be right around the area when she comes back," I said, "I’ll keep checking back in, too.”
“That’s the boy. Smarter than you look, even when you need to be beaten over the head with it.”
Well. What could I say to that?
I hung around outside, people-watching, until I got bored and went into a few shops, browsing and looking at some finely crafted weapons, but finding nothing that could come close to my gun, and avoiding the taverns in the area. It was too early for that, even for me.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, Lilly came back up.
“I think we figured it out,” she said, without preamble. “But it’s not good.”
I looked at Sarge, who was paying no attention to me, eyes focused on Lilly.
“I think we’re dealing with a banshee,” Lilly said, with the type of gravitas a person says, “He was crushed beneath a boulder.”
This time when I looked at Sarge, I saw the same dumb expression that I was sure was on my own face.
“Ooookay,” I said. “Next question. What’s a banshee?”
“Really?” She looked from me to Sarge, and then back again. “Neither of you?”
We both shook our heads, causing her to sigh heavily.
“Fine. But you should know that it’s caused quite a stir downstairs. We think that a banshee is a spirit, but we’re not sure. And honestly, no one knows if it’s good or evil. See, if you hear it, it means that you’re going to die. Now, the reason that we don’t know if it’s good or evil, is because we don’t know what the scream means. Does hearing it cause you to die? That’s one theory. The other is that the banshee only shows up if you’re going to die anyway, and it’s meant as a warning.”
“And it’s not like anyone can ask one, right?” I asked.
“Right. As far as I, and anyone else down there, can find, no one has ever even seen one, or heard it, except for those who die.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “If no one has seen or heard one, than how do you know they exist?”
“Because the victims, if that’s what they are, have a few days. They’ll talk about hearing the scream, and seeing a woman, and then, when they die, they stare at something that no one else can see, in horror. So, we know something is doing it.”
Suddenly, Gertie’s insistence that she could hear a scream the night of the werewolf popped into my head.
“Crap,” I said, heading for the door.
“Where are you going,” Lilly called after me. “We’re not done!”
“I’ll be back! See what else you can find out. See if there’s any record of someone hearing it and not dying!”
I ran out, already knowing in my heart what both Lilly and I would find.
I wasn’t wrong. There was a black bunting hung across the door frame of the house that the elderly ladies lived in, and I could see it in Mrs. Reynolds face when she opened the door. Gertie was gone, and after some gentle questioning, I learned that she never gave up on insisting that she heard something scream that night. She became progressively worse, saying that a woman kept showing up and screaming, until she was almost mad from it. She made it until this morning. When they found her, there was a terrified expression on her face, and blood running from her ears.
I gave my condolences, and made my way back to the Watchhouse.
When I got there, Sarge told me that Lilly wanted me to come on down to her office, which always made me a little nervous. Like I’ve said many times, magic gives me the creeps, and the type that the necromancers do, even more. No matter how many times Lilly has explained it to me, magic that deals with death at its core still makes me really uneasy.
“Where did you run off to?” she asked me when I opened her office door.
I told her what I found out, including Gertie insisting that she was hearing a scream the other night, even though no one else could.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Lilly said.
“Didn’t seem important, at the time. I thought it was some old lady being…well, you know. But it wouldn’t have really mattered, right? Unless you found out anything else.”
“No,” she sighed. “I haven’t. I can’t find any reference to anyone saying that they’ve heard the banshee and then not dying. It really does seem like if you hear it, you’re as good as done for.”
“Well, why is it here then? You would think that if it was always around, we’d have heard about it before.”
“I don’t know that either. My theory is that it came now because of all the new races flocking here. Maybe it came in with one of them. But that’s really only a guess.”
We sat in silence for a few moments, each lost in our own thoughts of what was going on, and what it could mean for the city.
“If this thing is evil, and has come here to kill, it can get to an awful lot of people,” I said.
“And as far as I can tell, there’s no way to stop it, either,” Lilly said
“On the other hand, if it’s warning people…well, there’s no shortage of people dying in this city either.”
“No, there isn’t. But, Duke, can we take that chance?”
“Do we have a choice?”
“Duke! Lilly! Wonderful to see you both!”
When Father Magnus said something like that to you, you really believed that he meant it. That he truly did find it wonderful that you showed up on his doorstep. The thing was, we were here to try to help this time, but it would have been the same reaction if I came begging for money.
“Hi, Father,” I said. “We’re here about the postings that you put in at the watchhouse.”
“Ah, those,” his face fell. “Horrible, isn’t it? Those poor people dying and looking as if they'd been scared to death. Death is a normal part of life, and will come for us all, but if we can ease a soul’s passage from this world, so much the better.”
“We think we know what’s doing it,” Lilly said. “The problem is that we’re not sure how to stop it, or if it can be stopped.”
Magnus looked quizzical, and then stood aside, motioning us to come inside the temple. It was cool in there, with large stone pillars holding up what I knew was a second floor. There were long benches, with a few people, human and otherwise, scattered about, either in prayer, or gazing about. At the front was the symbol of the Good God, and an altar below that where either Father Magnus, or one of the other priests of the temple, performed services.
We sat in one of the benches at the back of the temple, and Magnus took the one in front of us, turning so that he faced us over the back of it. We talked in hushed voices, so as not to disturb those who had come in to worship.
“Well then,” he started. “What do you suspect is doing this?”
“I think it’s called a banshee,” Lilly answ
ered. “But I don’t know much more. We don’t know where they come from, or really what they even are. All we know is that no-one can see them, or hear them, except for a single person. And when that one does, they die a few days later, with a terrified faces, and usually blood running from their ears.”
“I see,” Magnus paused and considered. “Is it your opinion that it’s an evil spirt, or a magic being of some sort, or….what?”
“I really don’t know. As you know, my specialty is the realm of the dead, but if banshees exist there, I’ve never heard of it. I don’t think it’s a spirt. A part of nature, maybe? Or maybe you’re right, and it’s a magic evil being of some sort.”
“Regardless,” I cut in, “we’re going to check into it. If it’s something that is actually killing people, we’ll find a way to stop it.”
Magnus sighed. “In the meantime, I’ll put the word out and tell people that if anyone hears this thing, they can come here. Maybe we can help make their final moments less frightening.”
Over the next several days, more cases of those that heard a mysterious wail cropped up, and word spread that relief could be found at the Temple of the Good God. As usually happens, the story morphed and changed with each telling, until soon, people began showing up expecting that Magnus could fix it, and that if they went to him, they or their loved one, wouldn’t die.
It was a credit to the man, and to the other priests who worked there with him, that they were able to stop the inevitable disappointment from turning into rage and violence. Instead, they took the doomed in, stayed with them, and talked with them through their final days and hours. It must have been grueling, and when Lilly and I went back to check on things, we could see the toll that it was taking on them all. None more than Father Magnus, who refused to get solid rest himself, in his need to take care of others.
Lilly spent more time at the watchhouse, meeting with other necromancers and wizards, trying to find an answer, but they came up empty. At home, she spent several evenings in the basement, talking with the Brownies, who heard of the banshee, but never been bothered by one, and didn’t have any ideas for how to stop it either.
Duke Grandfather- The Whole Story Page 29