Fisher And The Bears

by T Hodden

  “I am afraid this section is not open to the public.” He straightened. “What have you stolen?”

  “There was no velvet rope.” I said, looking around and playing dumb. “So is this a theme room you weren't meant to open until Halloween or something?”

  “Please. Leave now.” His tone suggested that he had enough contact with the public not to be surprised there would be some idiot devoid enough of common sense to think a passage covered in cobwebs and dust was either safe or part of the public area. He waved me out. “It is not safe this area should have been sealed.” He looked me over, trying to find an excuse to search me for something I might have stolen from the unprotected room. What his face did not show was any sign of being surprised that a long sealed room had popped open. He threaded the fingers of his gloved hands and gave me a thoughtful look.

  I was starting to get a bad feeling about what might have happened. But I needed to be sure before I could start to make it safe. Even so, this was a dangerous room, with dangerous equipment in. I stood up straight and produced a business card like a magician producing the Queen of Hearts. I held it out for him. “I am sorry if I am trespassing, but I had to know. I sensed the terrible danger here and needed to be sure if it could be made safe.”

  “An exorcist?” The man looked at the card. “Is this about the apparent curse? The three deaths that so many people have made a song and dance out of as though they were yarns for their entertainment. Are you another vulture?”

  “This is about somebody using Summoning Coins for dark and dangerous magic.” I said. “Which has the potential of hurting somebody if we do not make it safe.”

  He paused and looked at me. “The coins.” He spoke softly. “Locking them here is not enough?”

  So. He knew some of it at least. “For now. Three deaths is a fairly good record given the danger, but is still three too many. I want to make sure nobody else can be hurt. Or some time in the future, by pure accident, somebody will touch those coins and they will be drawn to do something beyond their control that will hurt them.”

  “I see.” The man sighed and shook his head. “Come with me.” He gestured for me to follow him down the stairs, then shoved me out of the Mirror Room and into the house and through a locked door to a private section of the house with incredible speed, pausing only when he carefully locked the Mirror Room behind him. His hand was like a vice on my shoulder. Cold as steel too.

  We ended up in an office lined in oak and dressed in antiques. The ultra modern laptop did not look at home on the vast desk. The paintings around the room were all portraits of noblemen in uniform stood in the light of full moons. I glanced at those paintings, and had the thoughts of the cult in the back of my head. I looked at the man, wondering how much he knew.

  “My name is Flint.” He said in a sombre tone. “This is my home. It has been in my family for over a century now. Since the last of the Shadowbrooks passed on.”

  “Died on that bridge.” I said quietly. I briefly explained what I had discovered.

  “So the only people who have been harmed are those who went nosing into business that was not their own.” He said. “And of course the Lord Shadowbrook. But the same might be argued for him I suspect. Looking for his family treasure was a bad idea. Best left undisturbed. My family long knew this, even those of us who did not inherit the name.” He looked at me. “It is precisely this danger that prevents me from allowing you to meddle. I will not have more blood spilled or more attention upon us.”

  I looked at him. At his hard cold eyes and I wondered what other dark family secrets of the Shadowbrooks he was trying to keep locked away. I had the horrible feeling he had less than pure motivations for finding out how much I knew.

  “You understand exactly what cult used those coins?” I asked softly. “You understand the-”

  “I understand that my family has a terrible and bloody past.” Flint snapped. “That I will not see repeated. Do you understand that?”

  I nodded. “Then let me disarm this threat?”

  “Please leave my home.” Mister Flint said sharply. “Before I contact the police and have you removed.”

  I nodded. “I am leaving my card.” I said softly. “If you change your mind, feel free to contact me.” I smiled sadly as I left. I needed some more information, but I had far too many terrible suspicions about the secrets of Shadowbrook. I paused at the door. Something felt wrong. There was the tingle of magic on my skin. I reached into my pocket and found the coin there. I placed it on the desk with an apologetic smile. Flint shook his head, seemingly convinced I was a petty thief.

  Outside rain was spattering the grounds and the bridge. I dashed to my van then drove a little way up the road to the small car park at a nexus point of bridleways and footpaths. I dug around in my maps and found the footpath that would lead me down the side of the brook, to the underside of the bridge. I drummed my hands on the steering wheel and tried to order the thoughts in my head.

  I stopped.

  Something was breathing down the back of my neck...

  *

  Theodore Edison Bear gave a yelp of surprise as I reeled around holding a torch defensively. He ducked down onto the back seat and hid under his hood.

  “I was only going to play guess who!” He said, holding up his paws.

  “Do not sneak up on me!” I shook my head. “What were you doing in the van? How did you get there?”

  “I got lonely.” He whined. “We missed you.” Well, the receptionist had said the b word and now they were here. If they caught the bus or just appeared from the Ether I could not say, but they were here.

  “We?” I asked.

  “I.” Ted corrected. He straightened up and gripped the lapels of his jacket with his thumbs.

  “Who is else is here?” I demanded looking around at a blanket on the back seat that was quivering nervously. It lifted a little to reveal the snouts of Ginger and Tiger. “Anybody else?”

  They shook their head.

  “You scared seven shades out of me! I thought a monster had come to kill me!”

  “Holiday going well is it?” Tiger asked.

  “Right.” I said getting out the car. “Everybody got anoraks and boots?” The bears nodded. “I'm going for a walk. I will tell you everything as we go.” We climbed out and went for a walk down the steep path to the gorge then followed the brook to the underside of the bridge.

  “So you think the victims found the coins and went out over the bridge.” Ted said, rubbing his chin in thought as he walked. “Maybe unaware that they had even taken the coin if it was cursed.”

  “If we are lucky.” I said. “But all those full moons in the portraits and the hidden passage. It seems like the signs of the Banewolves, and the house is the right age for their revival in the sixteen hundreds.”

  “For those of us who didn't pay attention at school?” Ginger asked.

  “The Banewolves were a warrior cult from the dark ages that suddenly came back to life after the fire of London. They were said to be formidable warriors because some dark spirit made them hear music in the fighting. It was all secret rituals and dark magic.” Tiger explained, happy to be ahead of the game. “The problem was not so much how good they were at fighting, but that they liked to try to cause wars so they would have a chance to fight. But more troubling, they got in the habit of invoking lots of very, very nasty spirits.” She paused. “Or keeping secrets.”

  “So this might not be the only danger?” Ginger asked. “They might have all kinds of nasties in there but this is the one that has been triggered?”

  I nodded.

  “Can I keep one?” Ginger asked excitedly. I shook my head. Sulkily he walked ahead kicking stones. Soon we were under the bridge.

  “So we prove that there is something of an unexploded bomb in the big house,” Ted said excitedly rubbing his hands together, “hopefully they will let us disarm it and we all have Chips and Satay Sauce for tea.”

  We all looked up at the unde
rside of the bridge. There, carved into the stones of the arch was the magic circle created by the coins. The bears cooed and stepped back as their fur stood on end, electrified by the effect of the circle. I held my breath. For just a moment shadows seemed to be moving in the darkness.

  “Of course,” I said quietly, “it could be that somebody planted a coin on those three poor people to protect some horrible secret.”

  The bears looked at me.

  “That is not an overly cheery thought.” Ted said. “If I'm honest I would rather you hadn't said it.”

  There was a shadow on the side of the bridge as somebody leant over the Precipice and dropped a single, battered and ancient, silver coin. It landed among the rocks with a chime. We all stared at it. Then as a long groaning huff echoed around us and there was a sound of something heavy and wide emerging from the shadows like they were deep pools of liquid. The thing that dropped down to footpath was roughly the same shape as a man, but stretched out in all the wrong directions, built like a bull and given a head that was mostly teeth. It towered over the four of us and roared like a lion. The air in the circle was suddenly hot, itchy and uncomfortable. There was a high pitched whistle in my head that seemed to stir my anger and fear.

  A troll. Anguish and misery in the huge grey eyes. He gripped at his head howling first in pain then in blind rage.

  “I don't want to hurt you.” I said to the lumbering giant. It found the idea amusing and gripping both its huge fists together it raised them up and brought them crashing down like a club. The whole world shook as I threw myself aside. The ogre lumbered around to try and mash me again. I ducked forwards as it let our a howl. I looked around for the bears. They had squeezed down into the gaps between the rocks and were tossing stones at the ogre, hurling piles of rocks in rapid fire. More than a few went wide and hit me. I was busy moving. The troll jumped like a wrestler and tried to slam me down into the ground. I stepped back slowly, putting myself right under the magic circle and I whispered a cleansing rite.

  At once the troll stopped trying to turn my bones to jelly. He stood there, wavering on his stocky legs as his chest heaved with each breath. He opened his mouth and drooled dumbly. Breath steamed from his nose.

  “There.” I said softly, walking forwards and putting a hand on his chest. “You don't want to be summoned here under the bridge and you don't want to kill. Let me send you home.”

  It nodded. Tiger slipped down from her hiding place to stand beside me. She tilted her head at the troll. “He is beautiful.” She sighed.

  “He is a good enough reason to stop this cruelty.” I said as powered down the circle. As its effects faded away the troll went with it. I looked at the bears and they understood. They held hands in the circle and started to hum a spell that would seal the circle for good. I let them work and stepped out onto a stepping stone in the brook. I reached down into the cold water and retrieved the coin. It shivered with power in my hand as I dropped it in my pocket.

  The bears song reached a crescendo and I felt a weight lift I had not realised I was carrying. The circle was sealed. The fur on the bears dropped back to normal. I gave them a look. “Go back to the van. All of you.”

  “Somebody dropped that coin.” Tiger said. “Deliberately. Somebody wanted to kill us.”

  I nodded.

  “Then we are not leaving you alone.” Ted said. “We felt his anguish. We felt his pain.”

  “Nobody should be trapped her like that poor troll.” Tiger chimed in.

  “What do you say Ginger?” I asked.

  He smiled and reached under his coat for his pocket sized flaming torch. I scowled and he put it away with a sigh.

  “So... Let's go find out what secret is worth killing for.” I sat under the bridge and pulled out my phone. I flicked open the internet and went looking for answers. I knew what I should be looking for now. There were few secrets that would be worth killing for. Fewer that would still be worth killing for a century later.

  “What are you looking for?” Tiger asked brightly as the bears huddled up to me for a view of the phone. Tiger had peeled open her backpack and was pulling out a tablet computer that was heavily reinforced. She grinned at me. “Medical records? Those are confidential. You wont find them like that.” She jabbed at apps and programmes as she cracked open supposedly secure computers. “So where to boss?” She asked in her best black cab voice.

  “Child disease.” I said, thinking back to the receptionist. “Kids with flu, fatigue, stress...”

  “Symptoms of life.” Ted explained. “General malaise, headaches, weakness, things that can't be easily explained when no actual diagnosis can be found.”

  “Oh.” Said Ginger. “There seems to be rather a lot of sniffles here don't there?”

  “So are we going to sneeze on the monster?” Ginger grinned. “Hang on. You aren't saying something in there is hurting kids?”

  “Mortality rates?” I asked.

  “Nothing unusual. Average for the village which is pretty low and getting lower with the advances in medical technology.” Tiger said.

  “But,” Ted had his own phone out, the glasses that he thought made him look intelligent perched on his nose and his thumbs on the screen, “there are a lot runaways.”

  “And the number of runaways has increased since the war at exactly the same rate that mortality has dropped. Which is far too high statistically.” Tiger explained.

  “But nobody ever really notices it,” Ginger said thoughtfully, “as they are too worried about all the ill people?”

  I nodded.

  There are very few secrets worth killing for. Even fewer that are worth killing for a century later.

  A vampire sucking the life out of children, possibly killing the “runaways”, was a secret worth killing for. Especially if an Exorcist has found your den. If he is threatening to 'help' get to the heart of the mystery. I thought of the wards on the back of the mirror. How close had Clarumcoma come to solving this only to not know he was staring at the solution? How could he ever have fought against a threat like this? Would he too have been attacked by troll? Would he have any chance against it?

  I looked at the bears.

  “What do you want to do?” I asked.

  “I am the Ginger Flame!” Ginger snarled. “And I will take this risk so no other kid has to.” He thumped a fist into his palm. “So... I take these are not twinkly lovable vampires?”

  “No.” Ted said, shadows somehow covering his eyes as he spoke, turning them into deep pools of eternal darkness. “Not exactly.”

  *

  “Everybody thinks they know about Vampires!” Theodore Edison Bear said as he marched ahead of us at a determined pace. “But what they know about are stories that have grown and changed. Stories reflect the fears of society. Somewhere at the heart is something close to the truth, the spark of the origin, but by and large every generation changes the story a little to make it fit the message it needs to tell. So at the moment Vampires are misunderstood, dangerous, but control their animal urges for love because they are a fable of becoming adult and understanding the consequences of relationships. Before that they were the cinematic vampires, the seducer who manipulated the raw emotions of victims. Before that it was Dracula in the novel. The man who appeared noble, but was a feral monster underneath reducing many to pitiful monsters just to feed his eternal hunger. All of them wonderful, all of them beautiful in their own way, and all of them distant from the myth.” He stopped and looked at Ginger. “Peel back enough layers of the onion and you find a very different myth. Not of a widows peak and a cape, or beautiful women with blood red lips, but of a walking corpse, clinging to life by draining the humours from victims. Clinging to life because their soul was consumed by a thirst for vengeance or pure hatred.”

  “Stealing the humours?” Tiger nudged me with her elbow. “I know some people who seem to steal my humour.”

  “Humours.” I said. “Physicians used to think that the body worked by humours like
blood and bile being in set balance.”

  “And blood was the fluid of vitality and life.” Tiger dredged up a memory from her schooling. “So what are we actually likely to face?”

  “A man or woman who has extended their life beyond natural means, overcoming disease, decay or damage by literally sucking the life out of somebody. Leaching their blood, their nutrients, their fluids...” I said. “They will be wrapped in magic to disguise their true nature, but silver, like the silvered glass of a mirror, reveals their true nature.” I stopped walking and looked back down the hill to the village. “They can move like animals, scaling walls like a lizard, finding ways inside of any house with the dexterity of a cat or the cunning of a rat. Over the centuries, they lose their humanity as it decays and wears thin, just like their true bodies. After a year or two, there is only a thin veneer of humanity over a thing of rage and hate.”

  “Over a thing of hunger.” Teddy said, holding out his bag of crisps. “Want one?”

  “No.” I said as we reached the gate to Shadowbrook Manor. “Thank you. I think I lost my appetite.”

  “So why the room full of mirrors?” Ginger asked suddenly.

  “To see if the members of the Banewolves were who they said they were.” Tiger whispered.

  “Oh.” Ginger said. “Yeah. So... Are we thinking the runaways did not actually run away?”

  “We are.” I said. “But we will allow them to offer a case for the defence. We have to know we are right before we stop them. Before we put an end to this.”

  The member of staff who was in the ticket office stared at me. I was obviously notorious as a troublemaker. I smiled as broadly as I could and rocked on my heels.

  “Would you mind asking Mister Flint down to speak to me?” I said. “Tell him I am worried I may know what is going on.” I pointed at the telephone by her till. She reached for it and nervously dialled a short internal number. Before the phone had a chance to ring Mister Flint was stood in one of the doorways.