10th of Fructidor, 1535

Fawksden, Southern Morrigan

Oleander slammed his left fist into the side of the training dummy Moira created. His other arm was still in a sling. After a few strikes, he took a step back and started kicking the dummy’s abdomen. He stumbled forward and leaned against the training apparatus. He’d been training with his non-dominant hand for over two hours; his legs were also starting to reach their breaking point.

“Herr Swine, a moment of your time,” Moira approached him with a long piece of leather.

She presented the monster hunter with a bandolier fitted for eighteen shotgun shells. Oleander couldn’t help but let out a small whistle as he looked it over.

“Fantastic!” Oleander slung the bandolier over his shoulder. He went over and grabbed his shotgun. He opened the back of the gun and swung it into his armpit—where he squeezed it in place. With his left hand free, he wiggled one of the shells free. He then managed to reload the shotgun with one hand. It was cumbersome but significantly better than dropping the gun and fetching a shell from a pouch attached to his waist.

“Are you doing well with your arm?” Moira asked.

“I can manage with my left just fine,” Oleander fired a slug round causing part of the dummy’s head to fly off, “I only wish I practice shooting with my left hand more. What about your arm?”

Moira had one arm she refused to move. It was still dislocated from her fight with Grace. “I will persist. You will help me fix it when your arm is back to normal, yes?”

“Of course. I need my mechanic in top form.”

They both heard a sharp scream from the front of the house.

“Who the hell?”

“It was a woman’s scream, we have an uninvited guest Herr Swine.”

Oleander and Moira went around the house to find a young woman on the ground. Cormag’s head was popping out from the mailbox.

“Sorry lass, I thought you were the postman,” Cormag remarked as he pulled himself out from the red box.

“I swear if you end up scaring someone to death, I’ll throw you all the way back to Kerth.”

Oleander walked over and offered a hand to the woman. “Sorry about him lass, he’s not all there in the head.”

“Don’t worry about that Mr. Oleander.”

The young woman pulled herself up with Oleander’s help. Her long auburn hair spilled out from under her tweed flapper cap. Her black mascara around her hazel eyes had dripped down her cheeks.

“Do I…know you?”

“We meet again Frau Massengale,” Moira stepped in and greeted Brynn.

Oleander suddenly remembered the young woman who could communicate with ghosts.

“I’m very glad I caught you all at home. I was worried that I would show up and no one would be here. Sorry for showing up unannounced by the way.”

“How do you two know this woman?” Cormag asked.

Moira explained, “We helped her exorcize a ghost from her younger sister—”

“—You did an exorcism! Without me!” Cormag’s crocodile tears were on full display, “Oleander. I am hurt, why didn’t you invite me?’

“It was a last-minute request. It would’ve taken you over five days to get here,” Oleander explained, “Had we taken too long to get to Massengale Manor, things would’ve gotten worse.”

“For an exorcism…I would’ve made it here in three days,” Cormag walked off while overly exaggerating his sadness.

“Is he going to be alright?” Brynn asked.

“He’ll be good by dinnertime,” Oleander replied.

“What brings you out here, Brynn?” Moira asked.

Brynn’s smile wilted as she pulled out a newspaper clipping. She handed it over to Oleander.

“Lord Mayor Gabriel Massengale Under Investigation for Conspiracy to Commit Murder. Five Bodies Found in Massenstock Mine System So Far.” Oleander stopped reading the Headline. He and Moira were taken aback.

“We’re not going to be sued over this, are we? We had nothing to do with any information getting out.” Oleander said.

“No. I told father you weren’t involved. I—I collected every piece of financial information I could from my father’s study. I also found a list of names of who could’ve killed Darwin Pritchett. I presented everything to the Lord Mayor of Ursulaburg. I knew I needed someone powerful and willing enough to convince the police in Ravenhold. It’s only a matter of time when or if criminal charges against my father would become official.

“How did your father take it after he found out it was you?”

Brynn looked over to her horse-drawn cart filled with her personal belongings, clothes, and equipment.

“Father pulled me out of the Royal Academy of Young Scholars in Ursulaburg and was immediately sent home. Father and Henry were…” Brynn started tearing up, “They said a lot. A lot that I don’t want to hear out loud again. Father kicked me out. Initially, I was only given a small handbag and nothing more. While Father and Henry were dealing with the initial inquiries, Mum and Addie let me back into the house to get everything else I needed. They didn’t berate me. Mum understood. Addie actually called me brave for what I did. I just hated having to say goodbye to Maisie more than anything. We grew very close after the exorcism. She’d have trouble going to sleep, so I would let her sleep in my bed so she wouldn’t feel lonely or afraid. I still don’t know if she remembers what happened to Elijah. I’ve been too afraid to ask. I just—I just wanted to have my father’s actions put in check, but now I feel like I’ve ruined everything.”

“But why did you come here?” Oleander asked.

“The only other people I could’ve stayed with were the Comstocks, and they’re all gone now. I could’ve stayed with some of my extended family, but I know Father would’ve riled some of them up. I remembered you two, and what you did for Maisie. I wanted to be able to do that. Be useful or helpful to someone. Before all of this happened, I wanted to be a physician—but since I can’t go back to the Academy—my education is on hold. I still want to get some practical training done, so I figured maybe you two could use a doctor in training?”

Oleander and Moira looked down at their injuries, then at each other.

“Do you know how to defend yourself?” Oleander asked.

“I—uhm—no not really,” Brynn answered.

“If you want to join this little operation, I’ll have to train you to fight. Are you fine with that?”

“If it allows me to help people and get some job experience, then I’ll try my best.”

Oleander offered Brynn a handshake, “I appreciate your honesty. Welcome aboard.” Oleander’s enthusiasm nearly crushed Brynn’s hand.

“Thank you,” Brynn shook her hand to regain feeling in it, “Now, uhm, would you two explain what happened to your arms?”

They recounted their last adventure of dealing with kidnapped children, a heartbroken puppeteer, and an archdevil with a god complex. Brynn was mortified by the story.

“That’s—that’s like a normal thing to expect?”

“Don’t worry. The three of us can handle most things while you keep us patched up,” Oleander remarked.

Brynn examined Oleander’s sling. “That’s properly handled.”

Brynn looked over at the one arm Moira refused to move. “Dislocated?” Brynn asked.

“Yes, how could you tell?”

“I asked the Academy’s physician if he’d allow me to shadow him so I could learn what being a doctor was like. We had a very commendable rugby team, and I’ve seen lots of dislocations and broken bones.

Brynn examined how Moira’s arms were positioned. She attempted to reset Moira’s injured arm.

“Are you sure you know what you are DOING?!” Moira yelped as Brynn jerked Moira’s arm into place. Moira unconsciously extended fangs out at the sudden jolt of pain; Brynn stumbled back in surprise. Moira clutched her arm, but to her surprise, she could move it with little resistance. Though still suffering from muscle pain, she retracted her fangs.

“Danke schön, Frau Massengale.”

“D-don’t worry about it. Wait, I have something,” Brynn ran back to the horse-drawn cart and started rummaging through one of her multiple chests. She returned with a small tincture and a syringe.

“Bret got this when he broke his hand playing rugby last year, I swiped it since he didn’t need it anymore. For the pain,” Brynn filled the syringe and gently pricked Moira’s shoulder.

Brynn continued, “If that shoulder keeps hurting, I can give you a few more shots."

Moira looked down at her arm and was surprised to feel how fast her pain had been numbed.

“What was that?”

“Morphine. Unfortunately, I don’t have a whole lot left.”

“Well, look who came prepared.” Oleander remarked. “I have a spare room in the house that you can use. I don’t know if you’ll be able to fit everything in there, but we’ll make it work.”

“Thank you again, Mr. Oleander, this really does mean a lot—” Brynn paused as she watched Oleander lift one of her chests, with one hand, and carry it inside the house.

Moira grabbed another trunk and carried it inside. Brynn was astounded by their combined strength. After multiple trips and sorting all of her trunks in the comparatively small room. Brynn took a moment to reflect on what she'd done. She was in a strange location with strangers she hardly even knew. She was out of options and feeling incredibly lonesome. Brynn balled up her fists. She'd try to make the most of this situation. She reached for one of her trunks; mum packed her some sweets from home and Brynn was exceedingly peckish. After popping open one of the trunks, she was greeted by a crayon drawing—it was of her and Maisie holding hands. Brynn kept her composure and held back any tears. She hated leaving Maisie behind most of all. She pinned the picture to the wall next to her new night table, that way she'd see it every morning when she woke up.