12th of Thermidor, 1535

Before Maisie could swing the knife into Brynn’s side, Moira lunged into the room and tore the possessed child out of her sister’s arms. The two of them tumbled into the darkness with only candlelight barely outlining them. They rolled apart from one another before colliding into the wall; as they separated and got back to their feet Moira see could Maisie’s eyes were hollow and empty. The small child rose into the air. Her movements were difficult to predict as each of her limbs seemed to act independently of one another.

Maisie rushed forward, but Moira was ready for the onslaught of stabs. Moira’s robe was clipped several times, enough to make Brynn panic. One cut looked like it caught Moira directly in the stomach. Brynn gasped. Moira retracted her skinny arms and swiftly slid out from under her disguise. Surprised, Brynn scooted back up against the nearest wall; Moira revealing her extra appendages threw the poor girl for a loop. Maisie yanked the knife free from the tattered cloth and charged at Moira again. Moira reached under her smithing attire with two of her arms.

“Moira, get out of the way!” Brynn screamed.

The knife was aimed straight for Moira’s abdomen, but the spiderkin was quick enough to construct a small latticework of webs between her hands. The blade slid easily through the webbing, but she managed to capture the hilt. Moira swept Maisie’s legs and in the same motion pulled the knife from her hands. She retreated a few paces and handed the knife over to Brynn; she didn’t want to inadvertently use it against the child. Moira ripped her burlap mask off to regain her full vision. Her yellow eyes, all four of them, pierced through the darkness and into Brynn’s very soul. The weird-looking limbs, her eyes, it finally clicked for Brynn what Moira was.

Maisie suddenly flew up into the air. Her body lurched into a nearby display cabinet.

“Maisie!” Brynn cried out.

As shattered glass and porcelain littered the floor, Maisie dropped to the ground wielding the two largest pieces she could find. As she darted towards Moira, an idea shot through Brynn’s head.

“Moira! She’s afraid of bugs!”

“But I’m not a—right!” Moira pushed her hair away from her face, outstretched her arms—bearing her claws—and extended her black fangs. Maisie skidded to a stop. For a brief moment, the blue color had returned to the possessed child’s eyes. If the windows weren’t boarded up, they would’ve shattered from Maisie’s scream of terror. The shards of glass in the child's hands fell to the floor.

Maisie rushed towards the door; Brynn jumped too late to catch her sister. Maisie reached the exit, but when she opened the door, she was greeted by a mountain of a man. Glass stuck out of his left arm and shoulder; blood poured from his injuries.

“I’m done being nice.” Oleander grabbed Maisie by the throat and brought her to the center of the room. Maisie flailed about—trying to deal any conceivable damage to the furious man squeezing the life out of her.

“Here, you two hold her down,” Oleander ordered.

Moira and Brynn each grabbed a leg and an arm. While in their grasp, Maisie’s reactions rapidly switched between pure anger and absolute fear. Her eyes were constantly changing colors. Only Brynn could hear her sister spew threats of dropping another chandelier on Oleander, ripping Moira’s limbs off one by one, and leaving Brynn to die like Elijah.

Oleander took the kitchen knife from Brynn and jammed it into the floorboards. The boards were perfectly flat and pushed together tightly; he could perform Signum without his diagrams being broken up. He unfurled the coiled vine he got from the abandoned church and tied one end around the knife’s handle and the other around a stick of orichalcum. Using the knife as the center point for the room, Oleander drew a perfect circle. He then replaced the vine with a longer piece so he could draw a second larger circle where the circumference touched the walls. Oleander connected a third, small circle, to the outermost circle—this one with a line through it.

“Alright, put her where I had this knife. Moira, stick her hands down—palm side up—and web her ankles down,” Oleander explained as he ripped the knife out of the floor.

As Moira followed his instructions, Oleander poured salt along the outermost circle. Once completed, he ran his fingers across his left arm to get blood and let it drip onto the orichalcum diagram. The instant the blood made contact, the chalky green of the diagram changed to a bright, shining red color. It rapidly spread across the two connected circles. The salt laid along the circle flew into the air. Millions of particles flew above them in the shape of a dome. Oleander took the last of the salt in his pouch and threw it across the floor, trying to spread it evenly.

Now with Maisie trapped within a hemisphere of salt, Oleander added more symbols to the inner circle. He drew four arrows that pointed into the circle and then drew matching symbols on Maisie's palms and the bottoms of her feet.

Each of Moira’s hastily made webbings was torn away as Maisie struggled to free herself. Brynn and Moira tried to move in to restrain her again, but Oleander motioned them back.

“Don’t cross the inner circle!” He commanded.

Maisie ripped from the last of the webbing and began levitating again. She was about to lunge forward, but Oleander flicked his left wrist letting droplets of blood splatter against the inner circle diagram. The red light spread around the circle and onto the arrow-shaped additions. Black chains erupted from the tips of the arrows and attached to the corresponding symbols on Maisie’s limbs. Try as she might, she was now restrained through Signomancy; she screamed at her captors as she writhed back and forth in the air.

Oleander fished out a porcelain bowl from one of the unbroken shelves, dropped in his bundle of sage leaves, and then lit it with Brynn’s candle.

He instructed the two girls to fan the smoke towards Maisie, "I don't have an actual fan or feathers, so get creative." Maisie howled in disgust as the smoke poured into her mouth and nose; her writhing stopped being as violent.

Oleander drew the last symbol on each of his palms—a stylized trident.

One last drop of blood was spilled. He clapped his hands together, the symbols turned red, and his hands were engulfed by bluish-purple, ethereal flames. He stood over Maisie. She could barely keep her eyes open and all her limbs were tensing up. Oleander reached back and then slammed his hands into Maisie’s stomach. Brynn initially turned away, but Moira pointed out to her that Oleander’s hands phased into her body.

Despite Oleander's hands being coated in flames, he grasped onto something exceedingly cold. He gripped tightly and wrenched. It didn't leave easily or quietly. Soon Moira and Brynn saw Oleander's hands leave Maisie's stomach along with the beginning of a blue spectral entity. Maisie's voice started reverberating strangely, like two people screaming at once. Bit by bit, Oleander pulled the monstrosity out of Maisie. With one last tug, Oleander exorcised the ghost. Maisie immediately fell onto the floor unconscious.

The impossibly cold spectral energy took on the appearance of a gaunt man with the left half of his form disfigured. What could be considered his eyes were blank. Forcing the process of separation had left him stunned, but responsive.

"Brynn, ask him who he is, where he came from, and why he's here?"

Brynn carefully shuffled forward and parrotted each of Oleander's questions. "Darwin...Pritchett," the ghost struggled, "I lived...in Ravenhold. They killed me."

"Who's they?" Brynn asked.

"Comstock...and Massengale." The whispers became hisses as the two names left his mouth.

Brynn spat back, "My father could never kill anyone!"

The ghost lurched about in Oleander's grasp, its words grew angrier. "Many of my friends. Many good men died under their watch to make those damned mines in the Roedrum Hills. The only difference between those two and many of the serial killers I reported on is that Comstock and Massengale were too rich and influential to take down. I gathered all the evidence I could. I was going to expose their gross negligence not just to the local press, but to my contacts in Blackburn Hollow, Sterling, and Ursulaburg. I wanted all of Morrigan to know about these crooks. My only mistake was confronting them in person. I tried appealing to their humanity—They got rid of me—They had me dragged out to one of the deepest mine shafts, their cronies beat me within an inch of my life, and threw me down there like I was yesterday's rubbish."

“I-I don’t…my father would never—”

“—your father would cast you aside and all your siblings in pursuit of an endless fortune, family means nothing to men who want nothing more than the company of bloody silver."

"But why did you possess Maisie?"

"My target was Gabriel, but the child got in the way. I expended too much energy, I needed to bide my time, but then things got complicated. My only goal was to have Massengale suffer like Comstock."

"...you possessed Comstock and murdered his family, didn't you?" Brynn responded.

The ghost howled with laughter, "Correct! I made him watch all of it. Why should these bastards have the right to pampered lives and large families?"

"Where's Adrian Comstock?"

"I walked him to the same mine shaft where they left me. I stopped on the precipice and leaned forward, I slipped out and listened to him scream in terror. I hope in those last moments he knew it was me possessing him, it would've made things better that way."

"You're a monster!"

"And you're living on a silver hill propped up by corpses. Your family is a blight on society, on humanity as a whole. I promise you, all of you, that you'll see Comstock and his family soon enough." Darwin tried pulling himself free from his captor's grasp, but Oleander held tightly. The ghost pulled the monster hunter across the room, lifted him into the air, and then slammed him onto the floor a few times but again Oleander's grip would not falter.

Oleander wrapped his left hand around the ghost's neck and started clobbering Darwin's head. The back of his head slammed onto the salted floor—part of his ghostly form dissolved away. Darwin let out several surprising screams of pain.

"This is my version of an exorcism!" Oleander yelled as he rained down hit after hit onto Darwin’s spectral face.

Darwin wrenched himself free of Oleander's chokehold. He made a beeline for Brynn, but the monster hunter grabbed him by his vapor trail tail.

It was a tug of war—Oleander's heavy boots crunched the salt beneath him as he trudged towards one of the sections of the salt dome. Reflexively, Darwin tried clawing at the floor to stop Oleander's advance—only for his hands to burn away at the touch of the salt. The monster hunter swung the ghost full force against the dome causing the back half of the entity to erupt in fire. Oleander grabbed Darwin's neck and struggled to push the rest of his body against the salt barrier. "They took everything from me! They needed to suffer. You have no idea what it feels like to lose it all."

Brynn translated what the ghost said—Oleander laughed. "Two times before, I've lost everything...this isn't how you go about settling scores!"

Oleander reared back and slammed Darwin’s mangled ghost form into the salt. His screams of pure anger burned away as the brash monster hunter completed the exorcism. He stumbled back and let out a deep sigh of relief. He scuffed part of the outer circle with his boot resulting in the salt particles above them suddenly raining down on them. Moira frantically wiped off her arms, hair, and clothes.

“Shit! Could’ve thought that one out a little better.” Oleander clutched his arm as salt had gotten into his open cuts.

Oleander went over to the inner circle and scuffed every arrow marking causing the chains to disappear. Brynn was on her knees clutching her head trying to process everything that had just happened throughout the night. She recounted everything the ghost told Oleander and Moira.

"Please...please tell me he had to be lying. Please..."

"Ghosts born out of anger like that don't have much of a reason to lie," Oleander remarked.

“But, my dad wouldn’t do something like that,” Brynn said.

Oleander shrugged.

"And Maisie...he said he made Comstock watch as he...killed his family. Do you think Maisie saw what happened to Elijah?"

Oleander turned towards the small child, "Gods, I hope not." Sullenly, he shook his head at the poor thing.

Brynn went over to Maisie, she checked her breathing and her pulse. Both were slower than normal, but they remained at a consistent rate.

“So that’s it, no more spirit or anything else?” Brynn asked.

“Exorcism is finished, complete success,” Oleander replied.

Brynn scooped up her little sister in her arms. “Thank you, both of you.”

“No problem, make sure she gets plenty of rest, food, and water. Possession takes a lot out of a person.”

Moira cut in, “If we take the ghost at his word, what do we do about Gabriel? He may be indirectly responsible for murder?”

“I’ll deal with this. Moira, get your disguise back on,” Oleander instructed.

Oleander took off down the hallway with Moira close behind readjusting her tattered robes and burlap mask. They discovered Wallace sitting patiently at the entrance to the west wing.

“Oh! I take it everything went—”

“—where’s Gabriel?”

“Uh, the Lord Mayor Massengale is downstairs in the foyer—”

“—Good. We won’t be here much longer.”

Wallace was thrown off by the monster hunter’s change in demeanor. Moira walked by without saying anything. Wallace stopped Brynn as she walked out, “Did it work? Is Maisie alright?”

“Yeah…she should be back to her old self soon,” Brynn could hardly hold back her tears.

Wallace took a cloth from his pocket and wiped away some of Brynn’s tears, “Miss Brynn, you still seem upset—”

“—I am, gods, I don’t know…” Brynn stammered for a couple of seconds. She gently transferred Maisie into Wallace’s arms, “Bring her up to see Mum and Addie, tell them not to come downstairs for a while.”

“Miss Brynn?”

“I’ll tell you later, I promise.”

Oleander entered the foyer to find Gabriel pacing back and forth in solitude.

“Ah, Mr. Swine! Is my daughter better?”

“Right as rain, after a few days rest, she should be back to her normal self,” Oleander explained.

“That is excellent news!” Gabriel reached into his jacket pocket and handed over eleven hundred talons worth of banknotes.

Oleander flipped through the stack of bills, folded them up, and placed them in his empty salt pouch.

“It went so well that we even got a few words from the ghost,” Oleander remarked.

“Oh? I thought ghosts only moaned and screamed,” Gabriel replied.

“Well, we had a little help,” Oleander pointed to Brynn standing in the foyer’s doorway.

“Ah yes…that ghost blessing nonsense, you can speak to them too now?” Gabriel asked.

“I sorta learned that I could do that today,” Brynn answered.

“Of course,” Gabriel rolled his eyes, “Well I hope my daughter didn’t cause you too much trouble during the exorcism.”

“She was quite instrumental in getting information from the ghost.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Like what? It’s a ghost, I can’t imagine they have much to say.”

Oleander asked, “Does the name Darwin Pritchett ring a bell?”

The ambient sounds of the clocks in the room faded away. The air grew tense. Gabriel’s fingernails dug into the upholstery of the couch nearest him.

“Pritchett, I believe he wrote for the Blackwing Post some years ago. He disappeared a long while back.”

“You ever speak with him directly?” Oleander asked.

“Once or twice, I’ve been the lord mayor of Blackburn Hollow for over ten years, so naturally he’d ask for a quote for his paper. What’re you getting at?”

Oleander stroked his chin, “Well, that ghost we exorcised, he said his name was Darwin Pritchett. Brynn translated to us that he met with you and Comstock. That little meeting didn’t go so well, and you ended up having him taken care of—”

“—Accusations? You’re accusing me of murder? What’s your proof? A statement from a ghost—a ghost that you destroyed. This is absurd—”

“—That’s what the ghost said,” Brynn spoke up.

“Brynn? I thought I raised you better than that. Is there any actual evidence for these accusations? The words out of Mr. Swine’s mouth are slanderous, and yet you would support them?”

A tear ran down Brynn’s face, “I don’t want to believe it. But it would explain what happened to Comstock and his family. And what happened to Maisie and Elijah! The ghost admitted to dumping Comstock’s body in the mines, we should at least get the police involved.”

“—Enough! I can’t put into words how disappointed I am in you. How would you tell the police? Mr. Officer a ghost told me about a murder that might have happened. No one could verify what a ghost could’ve told you. No one would believe you.”

“Considering how hard the police are searching for Comstock, nudging them towards the mines doesn’t sound impossible. Ghost or no ghost,” Moira explained.

“There won’t be any reporting or nudging. You signed our little non-disclosure agreement.”

“Well we don’t intend to bring up Maisie being possessed by a ghost to anyone, so don’t you worry,” Oleander said.

“You don’t understand. The non-disclosure agreement stated: You two are not to discuss the events that transpire in this house, the premises of Massengale Manor. That includes anything that the ghost might have said,” He looked from Oleander to Brynn as he spoke.

Oleander sneered, “You weaselly prick. You knew this would happen didn’t you?”

“I didn’t. I merely covered my bases.”

Brynn was becoming visibly angrier with each of Grabriel’s protests, “Even if you didn’t have Darwin Pritchett killed, the ghost said he left Comstock’s body in the mines. You’re fine with that not being investigated? He was your friend. He was your business partner. And everyone will still think he killed his family.

“Brynn—”

“Don’t Brynn me!” Her shrill scream of frustration blew everyone away momentarily. “What happens if another one of your mistakes comes back to haunt us…huh…who dies next?”

“That’s enough—”

“Mum? Addie?”

Gabriel walked up to Brynn.

“Or Bret, or Henry, or…me?

Gabriel slapped Brynn across the face. She nearly stumbled over in surprise, but she caught herself on the door. She looked up at her father while covering her lips and cheek.

“I have a business and a family to protect. So maybe I have blood on my hands. I wouldn’t be the first nor the last. When you have something worth protecting, you’ll understand,” Gabriel remarked.

“I have blood on my hands too. It comes with being a monster hunter. The difference is I can wash the blood away, your hands are stained.”

“Get out!” Gabriel yelled, “I have had enough of you and that church rat. Now, I’ll say this one last time just so you remember—if you break our little contract—then I’ll sue you both blind. House and home. All your property and land. I know plenty of lawyers who can and will bleed you dry.” Gabriel poked Oleander in the chest several times to drive his point home.

Oleander swatted Gabriel’s hand away, took hold of his neck, and lifted him off the ground until they were nose to nose. As Oleander’s face turned red, Gabriel’s grew paler. He stared through the meek mayor and growled, “I’m the last person you should be threatening right now. Understand?”

In a voice shriller than Brynn’s scream, Gabriel shrieked, “GUARDS!”

A stampede of private soldiers kicked open the doors to the foyer brandishing poleaxes and rifles, all pointed at Oleander’s head. The monster hunter threw Gabriel back onto one of the couches. Massengale took the deepest inhale of his life. Again in a shrill voice, “OUT! GET THEM OUT!”

With spearpoints and rifle barrels trained on their backs, Oleander and Moira were kicked off the Massengale premises. The iron gates slammed shut behind them.

"Now what herr Swine?"

"If something else comes after him then he's on his own...that fucking weasel!" Oleander whipped around and obliterated the metal sign on the gate that said "Massengale." As he pulled back his fist, Moira noticed small metal fragments clinging to Oleander's knuckles that dissolved before he could notice. “I can’t believe I lost the Comstock bounty because of him.”

Moira grabbed his arm before he could throw another punch at the gate. She said, “If we don’t leave now then his guards might start shooting at us. We won’t be the first bodies Massengale has disposed of.”

“Damn it, you’re right,” Oleander kicked a decent-sized rock into the side of the Massengale’s postbox denting it, “It’s a long ride back home, and it’s only getting darker.”

Oleander and Moira mounted their horse and rode off through the now deathly quiet town. Moira looked around, most of the birds had disappeared—except for a handful sitting atop the entrance to Ravenhold. Among them was an oddly shaped, white crow that stared blankly into the night; it slowly craned its neck down as the two approached the exit.

*****

Brynn sequestered herself in her bedroom. She was curled underneath her bedsheets sobbing heavily. Her right cheek stung and the corner of her lips was purplish and swollen. She ground her teeth and punched her pillow several times. To stop herself from bawling her eyes raw, she pulled out Guthrie’s tooth from her satchel. Blue energy emanated from the tooth and took the form of her dutiful mastiff. His demeanor changed as he saw his favorite owner in pain, he curled up right next to Brynn. He whined as he licked the tears off her face.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be alright. Can you do me a favor?”

Guthrie's ears perked up.

"There's a room in the west wing, in that room should be a bunch of notebooks and ledgers all over the floor. Bring me as many of them as you can before the sun rises, and don't let anyone see you."

Guthrie's willingness to help brought a smile to Brynn's face, "You're one of the only allies I have left in this house."