“...and why do you think it’s Miss Gruse?” Ash tilted his head and looked at the little girl with uncertainty.

“It has to be her,” Terry replied, appearing absolutely confident in her answer. “She doesn’t like me.”

That was a surprise to Ash considering what he had been told by the adults. “Why do you think she doesn’t like you? Does she treat you badly?”

Terry knit her brows and fiddled with her hands. She hesitated and finally lowered her eyes. “No.”

Ash held back his surprise. “Does she ignore you?” Terry kept her mouth closed tight and Ash glanced around the empty room. “Your dad’s upstairs with Effie and Henry to learn what they’re doing with beast mastery right now,” he said. “You can speak freely.”

Terry’s hands twisted more. “Are you going to tell my dad?”

“Not if you don’t want me to,” he said.

She took a deep breath and looked at him. “She wants to marry Daddy, but I don’t want her to. When I was little, she always came to my house to help us. She cleaned and cooked, even with Daddy said it wasn’t necessary. Daddy even let her watch the house for us when we went out of town once, I remember.”

“Does she have a key to your house?” Ash asked.

Terry shook her head helplessly. “I don’t know. She used to come all the time, but after I got Shadow, she avoided coming. I thought it was because she asked me if it would be okay if she became my mom and married my dad, but I said I didn’t want my dad to get married. It’s fine, just us!”

“All right, all right,” Ash nodded. “That’s valid. Honestly, I also don’t like the idea of my mother remarrying, but what did she say when you told her that.”

Terry shrank back. “She didn’t say anything and never said it again.”

Ash tilted his head to the side. “Then, did she do anything?” Actions spoke louder than words, after all.

Terry continued to shift awkwardly. “She acted the same...but different.”

“Different?”

“Feels different.”

“Ah.” Ash understood. “Do you remember your mom?”

Terry perked up and nodded. “A little....” Her shoulder slumped. “Everyone says that she left me and my dad.”

Ash raised a brow. “Who is everyone?”

“The neighbors, the butcher, that lady.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

Terry’s face wrinkled up. “Mommy loved me. I remember little of her, but she was very soft to me.” The child shook her head as her eyes reddened. “She wouldn’t leave.”

Considering that Mr. Pinon himself had said that he and his wife had a good relationship, that they married out of love, and she was the one who brought him into East Village to live after they met doing temporary work at a construction site outside the city, Ash didn’t think she’d leave her family either.

In fact, when he asked around, everyone in the neighborhood had been taken by surprise that she would leave.

‘They were so happy,’ neighbors told him. ‘She and Alan were joined at the hip!’ ‘She cherished Terry since she found out she was pregnant’, one of the old ladies had said with a disappointed sigh. However, in the end, there was no real proof other than missing money that she ran away.

Ash had been through a lot in his short life. He was well aware that there were much darker things that could’ve happened that caused Terry’s mother to never come home, and the appearance of a hellhound seemed to confirm it.

A knock came from the door. Ash glanced over his shoulder. “Yes?”

The door cracked open and Henry stuck his head through and looked inside. “Ash, I’m going to do some research and ask for some info from the public records. It shouldn’t take long. Mom and Effie are giving orders on the roof. Mr. Pinon is eating and will return soon with something for her to eat.” A subtle reminder that if there was something Terry didn’t want to say in front of her father, get it out now or prepare to wait. Ash nodded. “And also, try to get confirmation on the suspects.” Henry casually lifted his hand and tapped his ear.

“Understood. Oh, Brother.” Ash turned in his chair to face the door. “Check if there were any deposits to new accounts at the bank around that time.”

“I plan to.” Henry looked at Terry and gave her a gentle smile. “Get some rest, Terry. We’ll do our best.”

“Thank you, Young Master.” The door closed and Terry looked at Ash. “Second Young Master, that lady didn’t like Shadow going to the butcher shop. She said that Shadow was so big and would be dangerous around me, and to get rid of Shadow when Shadow was just a puppy. Even the butcher said such a large pet was dangerous and I could get hurt.”

Ash narrowed his eyes. Was it possible that Miss Gruse knew what Shadow was and tried to separate them? But if she knew what a hellhound’s purpose was, she would know that they couldn’t be rid of them until their job was done. They could’ve put Shadow on a boat, sailed across the sea, and abandoned him on a deserted island, but when they returned, Shadow would be back at Terry’s side. After all, Shadow wasn’t a real dog.

Ash nodded his head. “That’s good to know.” He took a deep breath. “Okay, Terry, I think I have what I need. Do you mind if I leave for East Village?”

“To investigate?” Terry asked, her eyes widened with hope. Ash nodded. Terry nodded her head in return, looking serious. “The butcher shop is really big. It’s long and there is a cellar and a roof top. They might try to hide evidence.”

Ash raised a brow. “You know about evidence?”

“I watched that public play series over the summer: Death He Scribed.”

Ash’s eyes crinkled up. Effie had dragged him to see it at the central plaza when it debuted a year earlier. It was the most boring five sequential weekends in a row ever.

He bought the playbill.

He stood up and began to move the chair back. The door opened and Mr. Pinon came in, holding a tray with some porridge and sweets. He looked at his daughter with a warm smile filled with expectation. She’d been back to normal temperature for a while, so he seemed to have his hopes up.

“Terry, how are you feeling? Are you hungry? The Young Master had porridge brought up from the shop and your friend had them make you cookies.”

Despite her pale complexion and displaced hair from the gel, Terry beamed. “Effie said she’s going to share cookies with me later.” Her joy seemed to make Mr. Pinon smile more.

Ash gave Mr. Pinon a smile and said he was going to investigate at East Village as he passed.

“Second Young Master, my neighbor likely told Boss that I came here for Terry last night, but just in case, can you stop by the butcher shop and let them know?”

Ash’s eyes almost sparkled. And here I was wondering how I’d get access to their home so easily. His face bloomed with a smile. “Not a problem, Mr. Pinon. I’ll also try to talk to him about giving you some time off considering the circumstances.”

Mr. Pinon seemed to fill with relief before bowing in gratitude and thanking him. “They’ve been very understanding, but I don’t want to disappoint them.”

Ash kept his face neutral. None of them had told the man their suspicions as they hadn’t verified anything yet, but a part of Ash couldn’t help but feel sorry for the single father who unknowingly trusted people out to kill his daughter. As much as he didn’t want to disappoint Mr. Pinon by confirming their betrayal, Ash also hoped that they had the right people.

He left the room and first headed to the roof to inform his mother.

Effie was sitting on a cushion, eyes closed and talking out loud in Lunapsar. Effie spoke three languages fluently and was learning two more. Lunapsar was the first language she learned, followed by Iverian Common, and then Formal Court Ashtari. Their mother was seated nearby, watching Effie carefully.

“Momma,” Ash said, calling her attention. She turned her had towards him. “I’m going to go to East Village. I’m also going to let Mr. Pinon’s boss know that he’s out because Terry is sick.”

Short and to the point, but his mother seemed to understand it all. She raised her hand and held it in place. Slowly, a small dark green head with large black eyes slipped out of her sleeve. Most snakes usually had different patterns or colors of scales on their back and belly, but a pair of his mother’s snakes were solid colored, save their eyes.

The snake was only as thick as her index finger, but was long, usually wrapping around his mother’s arm. The creature stuck out a little pink forked tongue. “Take Silk. She’s sensitive to the right blood.” His mother meant human blood.

Ash nodded and lifted his head to receive the long, smooth creature. Silk wrapped around his hand and then his arm. “Okay,” Ash said. “I’ll let her loose at the shop.”

“And Cashmere.” She lifted her other arm and this time a white snake with black eyes came out. “Both of them have been prepped.”

Prepped meant that his mother had prepared for this moment and familiarized the snakes with Terry's essence so that they would search specifically for her sample. Ash kept his hand out and the white snake followed and coiled next to the dark green one. He sighed. Cashmere’s color would make it more difficult to hide or remain unnoticed in a dark background, but he supposed it was necessary.

Cashmere was sensitive to human bone and marrow.

“Two of the ravens will follow you,” she said before bending over and putting a finger under the snake’s chin. “Silk, Cashmere, if you need to get away, get to the roof. One of the ravens will take you home.”

The snakes stuck out their tongue, as if understanding and accepting. Once he was well equipped, he left to go back.

The journey felt much shorter than when he came the first time, though his mind was preoccupied. He glanced at the sky and narrowed his eyes. It might be best to wait until evening to reduce the chances of the blood and bone snakes being discovered.

He took a deep breath when he arrived and was within sight of the butcher shop. He decided on a worried expression and approached.

“Agent Atractas?” The butcher was surprised to see him. He looked up, a bit frazzled. No one else seemed to be at the shop helping him.

“Mr. Gruse, I’m sorry to bother you during your work time, but I’m afraid something happened to Terry and Mr. Pinon had to rush her to help. I ran into him and he asked that I inform you.” Ash walked towards the counter and leaned over it, placing his hand with a slip in it underneath the ledge and leaving it there.

The butcher took in a sharp breath. “Is Terry all right?”

“She’s very sick,” Ash said in a tight voice. “She’s feverish.”

“Where is she? Does she or Alan need anything?” The door behind him opened and the bell rang. Ash looked over his shoulder and saw Rita walk in with a bag in her arms and a pale complexion.

“A hospital; I’m afraid I don’t know which one. We ran into each other last night and I came here first thing,” Ash told them.

“Rita, get some water and bread for Agent Atractas,” the butcher told his daughter urgently before looking at Ash. “Agent, please take a moment to rest.”

This was his chance to drop off the snakes. “Thank you!”

He followed Rita upstairs, thanking the butcher again as he passed. A customer arrived, so he didn’t follow. Before he climbed the stairs, he knelt down to adjust his shoe and release the snakes.

Cashmere slid out, but Silk did not. Silk remained firmly wrapped around his wrist and he frowned. Remnants of Terry’s blood weren’t in the vicinity, but there could be bone. However, Terry hadn’t suffered any injuries that could’ve resulted in her losing a piece of bone.

“Agent?” Rita called from the top of the stairs.

“Coming!” Ash forced an embarrassed flush and rushed up the stairs. He insisted on carrying the bag the rest of the way in. He bid his time, showing gratitude for the water and telling Rita about how he saw Terry the night before; so sick and burning up. Rita’s expression was devastated and afraid, but somehow, they didn’t reach her eyes. After some time talking, he felt something smooth and cool wrap around his ankle. Cashmere had returned.

He needed to bring the snakes back to his mother to translate what they found. That was a drawback with using animals; at best, he could use his beast tamer abilities, but he couldn’t ask them questions and get answers. If he had free reign of the house, he would just follow them around.

Now that he had Cashmere back, it was time to leave. He kept a smile on his face as he spoke to Rita across from him. He activated another slip and embedded it into the wooden bench, keeping his hand over it until it disappeared.

“I really should get going. Thank you for this.” Ash stood up and Rita rose to see him out. She led the way and as he walked, he embedded slips on the walls and the railing of the stairs. He even pretended to go the wrong way to get further back and flicked a slip down the hall.

After thanking the butcher, he walked out. He circled the block and slipped into the alley just behind the shop. He had placed enough to form a listening shell; slips activated with the same order amplified their strength, increasing the space they could affect.

By his estimation, over half the length of the house and the ground, first, and second floors could be listened into. He activated another slip and placed it against his ear.

“...no, he seemed genuinely concerned.” He heard Rita’s voice carried through the paper. Ash closed his eyes.

Oh, yeah...I’m a genius.

“Do you think the hospital will be able to save her?” He heard Rita ask who he presumed was her father.

“No.” Ash nodded to himself. That was the old man. “Nothing can break a curse, only absorb it. That hellhound’s gone. Who else is going to use their dying wish to protect her?”

Rita let out a long sigh. “I don’t know how she knew.”

“She doesn’t have to know,” the butcher said. “All a hellhound is, is a manifestation of dying life energy. She wished her daughter to be safe.”

“I lost nearly a quarter of my life essence for nothing....” Rita’s voice was laced with bitterness.

“It’s fine, my dear. Alan is a dutiful man. He’ll take care of you even when you can’t walk,” her father told her reassuringly.

Ash frowned. That confirmed his theory that this was a second curse. But where did the rest of the life essence come from? He paled a bit. They didn’t kill more people, did they?

“Are you sure this curse will be as effective if we use pig’s blood?”

“Where else are we going to get life essence? Another quarter of your life isn’t enough and it would decrease your lifespan more than it’s worth-”

“He’s worth it!” Rita cut off her father quickly.

“Yes, but if you die so soon, how will you enjoy your life with him? You’ve already given up enough that your body will have trouble walking by the time you’re fifty!” Her father scolded her and it seemed to keep her quiet. The man let out a grumble. “And if I gave more of myself, my health will deteriorate too quickly and severely, and we don’t have time to find another human source. Pig’s blood is the closest we can get to mimic human blood that we can get our hands on and enough of,” the butcher said. “Even if it takes several to make up the essence of one human. It took days just to boil it down to the consistency to use, but mixed with our essence, it will suffice. Look, didn’t the Agent say she was in the hospital?”

Rita let out a hum. “But shouldn’t she be dead already?”

The coldness in her voice made Ash shudder. It was as if she was a different person from the one who graciously gave him water earlier.

They expected Terry to already be dead, meaning the curse was meant to conclude quickly.

“Maybe that hospital has some means....” the butcher replied. “We’ll wait...nothing can break a curse. It’s only a matter of time.”

Time was the key factor and Ash all but ran to the Pinon’s house. One of the old ladies was in the yard and remembered Ash. Ash told them that he’d run into Mr. Pinon was sent to get clothes for him and Terry since he couldn’t leave her side. The old woman was sympathetic, but seemed to watch Ash carefully when he entered the house.

He was, after all, an acquaintance at best. Ash didn’t mind her caution and even approved of it. As soon as the door was closed, Ash released the two snakes. “Go!”

This time, both snakes slithered on to the floor. Silk didn’t wait for Ash to lower his arm. She sprung forward, managing to catch on to the stairway banister with her body and then wiggle up the railing.

He narrowed his eyes. Both of the snakes were going in the same direction. He followed behind them, his chest growing tighter as he climbed the steps. When Silk turned, so did Cashmere. The two then seemed to fuse together, moving as one as they slithered down the wooden floor of the upper hall.

Ash looked in the direction they were headed.

Terry’s bedroom.

His heart dropped. With heavy steps, he followed. The two snakes slipped beneath the door gap and Ash grasped the handle. He took a deep breath, preparing himself.

He swung the door open. The room was the same as when he’d said good-bye and left medicine a few days ago. There were still a few packets of medicine left on the nightstand along with a half drunk cup of water. The bed was made, with blankets and pillows piled at one end.

The snakes went under the bed.

Ash knelt down and peered underneath. The two twisted their bodies, rising up and almost touching the underside of the bed.

Ash reached into his tabard and activated a slip, illuminating the dusty area beneath the bed. His eyes followed where the snakes were pointing at and he sucked in a sharp breath.

His eyes reddened as he made out the words written in a mix of human and animal blood. They were disjointed; more words placed in specific places rather than a formula or sentence, still, there was a familiar outline of circles and triangles along with various shapes he’d seen when he was doing research.

The curse array had been written underneath Terry’s bed. That woman had access to their house. What was worse, this array was large and used a lot of essence to create. A time period was written, which meant the curse was concentrated to work fast.

Ash’s heart sank. “One week.” He counted off in his head when Terry began to show symptoms and realized he wasn’t sure. The children had told him that she had gotten dizzy at school and even vomited. Her fever had suddenly shot up, as well.

If they hadn’t covered her with cooling gel, the fever would’ve overtaken her the night before. Ash swallowed hard and stepped back. He folded the blankets and piled them back on the bed.

He needed his brother’s help. Perhaps he needed more than that.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

“We can’t tell the authorities,” Henry told the older man, putting a hand on his shoulder and gently pushing him back down. This is the decision he and Ash came to once they returned. Mr. Pinon snapped his head towards him, horrified.

“Why not?”

“First, their involvement will delay us. They’ll want to go over everything we already know and then do their own investigation,” Henry replied. “It isn’t that we don’t want to go the legal route, Mr. Pinon. Normally, we’d abide by it to make sure nothing gets out of hand, but we do not have time to.”

“Second, involving the authorities will let the Gruse family know that we know what they did. While they won’t know what we’re trying to do, it could make them wary,” Ash said. They’d already contacted people who dealt with illegal curse casters and the Adventurers Guild, and assured them that they would take care of this first. “We don’t want to alarm them.”

“We also don’t want them to do anything drastic to silence us,” Henry added. Mr. Pinon lowered his head and nodded.

“That...that makes sense,” he said. “I just don’t understand. They’ve known Terry since she was born.” He lifted his head to look at them with desperation and confusion. “They’ve been so close to us; like family! We shared meals for festivals and holy days. A few years after my wife left and Terry was older, I even considered marrying Rita.”

His eyes looked at each of the two brothers. Their blue eyes looked at him in silence, though seemed to know something he didn’t. Mr. Pinon drew his head back, looking from Ash to Henry and back.

“Did you ask Terry how she felt about you remarrying?” Henry asked.

Mr. Pinon’s mouth opened, but quickly shut. He looked down and knit his brows. “I...I once asked if she wanted a mom, but she said she was happy with just us two.” He looked at the brothers. “Her mother left when she was so young, I don’t think she’d have much to remember of her. Also, I would think that she’d be upset that her mother left us.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Ash took a deep breath and leaned back against his chair. “Mr. Pinon, are you sure your wife left you?”

“She took my money-”

“Are you absolutely certain she ran away with it?” Ash pressed.

“Who else would’ve known where I kept it?” Mr. Pinon asked with a slight, disbelieving scoff.

“You kept it at home?” Ash asked. Mr. Pinon hesitated to tell him and Ash raised a brow. “We’re in no need of your money, Mr. Pinon.” He motioned to the impressive library they sat in and Mr. Pinon flushed.

“I’m sorry...I’m just...sorry.” He shifted awkwardly in his seat.

“I looked up the crime records in your area during the time of your wife’s disappearance,” Henry said. “There were a lot of daytime robberies reported. It’s a working neighborhood, so many people aren’t home during that time. The few days before your wife left, several homes in the courtyard one over yours were robbed.”

“Yes, but after that, there were no robberies in our courtyard or other courtyards next to us.”

“The robberies put the surrounding neighborhood on guard. It would make it difficult to rob another so soon without there being neighbors watching in case of a robbery,” Henry said.

Mr. Pinon’s brows rose. “That’s right...for a few days after, our court had at least two people guarding it.” His eyes crinkled up. “I remember my neighbor took my place as we had been searching for my wife at the same time.”

“You were so busy, you might not have heard of the tragedy that happened in North Village at the same time,” Henry told him. “One of the horse drawn carriages going between North and East Village had a collision with a vehicle on the run from North Village patrols. The door to the carriage was barricaded and the driver had been knocked off and unconscious. To get away, the criminal used a sunshard to set the carriage on fire.

“It wouldn’t have been so bad, just a small distraction at most, but the carriage had a small load of grease to be delivered to a press at the East Village dock. It caught on fire and the people inside could not get out. Of the twelve passengers, ten were identified because they had metal and stone identification tokens on their person. The last two were an unknown man, presumed to be a merchant traveling through because of foreign jewelry, and an unidentified woman.” Henry reached into his pocket and took out a piece of cloth. He put it on the table and unfolded it. Inside, there was a small metal ring. “This is all they could gather from her.”

He watched as Mr. Pinon’s face began to lose color. His eyes filled tears as he shook his head. “Katie….”

“You recognize the ring?” Henry asked. The man began to choke with cries as he cupped the ring in his trembling hands.

“But…but why would my wife-”

“Mr. Pinon, did you know that you have an account with the Bank of the Federation of Merchant Cities opened in the North Village branch?” Henry asked. “For exactly the amount that you said was taken, and shared with one Katherine Pinon with a beneficiary named Theresa Pinon.”

Mr. Pinon’s eyes were red as they misted over with tears. His face seemed to jiggle as he trembled, biting his lips to try to hold in the emotion the revelation triggered.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Pinon,” Ash said in a quiet voice.

Mr. Pinon let out a cry as he covered his face in his hands, sobbing. Incoherent pleas apologizing to his wife, who he thought had left them, filled the air. Henry rose from his seat and patted the man’s shoulder. “Your wife was smart. Rather than leave the money at home for thieves, she took it to the bank.”

“Why didn’t she tell me?” Mr. Pinon choked out.

“That, I can’t answer,” Henry told him. He looked at Ash. “We should go.”

Ash looked at Mr. Pinon with sympathy and sadness. He also stood up. “Momma and Effie will keep watch over Terry with you. We’ll take care of the butcher and his daughter, and the array.”

“Wait!” Mr. Pinon shot up and reached forward to stop him. “I want to come. I need to see it.” Desperation filled his face as he shook his head. “I can’t believe that people who treated me and my daughter like family would do this to her...I just...I can’t!”

Ash looked to his brother, who looked Mr. Pinon up and down. He narrowed his eyes. “Your presence will only make it more complicated. You should stay here.”

“No! I need to see this array you’re talking about! I can’t believe that Boss and his daughter would do this to us!”

Henry cast Ash a small look and Ash nodded. “All right, but you must do what we say.” Ash said. Mr. Pinon nodded.

Henry gave him a firm look. “Do not forget that the reason we’re doing this is for Terry. We know very little about what retaliation can happen if we tamper with a curse array.”

“And that’s the technical portion,” Ash said. “We also don’t know what the human reaction will be. We have to be prepared for that.”

“Oftentimes, we find that the worst of the two.”

Mr. Pinon’s eyes crinkled up. He lowered his gaze and seemed to debate with himself whether he should go. After a few breaths, he nodded. “I understand, but I still need to see this with my own eyes.”

Henry patted his back and gave him a sympathetic nod. In what world did people want to believe that those close to them betrayed them?

The three men walked out of the library. Mr. Pinon asked to see his daughter once more before they left and the two brothers acquiesced.

Inside the guest room, Terry was sitting on the bed with a wooden bed table in front of her. Though her body was now at a stable temperature, she had lost a lot of color and flesh. Whatever she ate seemed to be vomited back up after a few minutes, though she said she didn’t feel hungry.

This was akin to how she had been the first time she was cursed. As active as she appeared at the moment, it couldn’t last. Her brows were knit with concentration as her two cooling gel slathered hands held cards coated with anti-slime to avoid slippage and water damage.

After a few moments, she seemed to nod to herself and pushed forward the little plate with cookies piled into a stout column. “All-in.”

Effie, seated across from her with her legs crossed and holding another set of cards, narrowed her eyes. “You’re confident?”

Terry glanced over the top of her cards. “Should I be?”

In silence, Effie pushed her own plate of cookies forward. “Let’s find out.” She laid her cards across the table. “Four of a kind.”

She lifted her chin with confidence while outside the door, Henry raised his hand and smacked Ash upside the head.

“Ow! Why did you hit me?” Ash immediately rubbed his head and shot his brother a glare.

“Why did you teach our sister poker?”

“I didn’t teach her-”

“She has a straight flush, Effie. She wins.” Auntie’s calm voice spoke out before Effie’s cry of defeat. “She needed a straight or a royal to beat you and she got a straight.”

Terry’s face bloomed with a smile. She giggled and reached over to make patting motions over Effie’s head, avoiding actually touching her and getting gel on the other little girl. “Hehe...don’t worry, Effie, I’ll still share.”

“They could’ve all been mine....”

“Effie, don’t make a risk if you don’t want to pay the price upon losing,” Nera said in a stern voice.

Henry pursed his lips. So, it was his aunt. “Sorry, Ash.”

His brother grumbled. “You owe me money.”

“Terry.” Mr. Pinon seemed to force a smile on his face as he knelt by his daughter’s bed. He stepped around the snow wolf laying on the floor, by the side of the bed. Effie began to collect the cards on the table between them. “I’m going to go with the Young Masters for a few hours. I’ll be back soon.”

Terry looked up at him and nodded. “Are you going back?” He inhaled a sharp breath and Henry lamented the man’s inability to keep a straight face. How was he going to deal with the butcher and his daughter?

“Daddy needs to check on something,” Mr. Pinon replied, recovering his smile.

Terry looked past him, towards the two brothers. “You’ll be okay, Daddy. Listen to the Young Masters. They’re professionals.”

The man reached down and, despite the gel coating his daughter, touched her head softly. “You stay here and be safe.”

“Rest assured, Mr. Pinon, your daughter is safe with us,” Nera said from her seat on the other side of the bed. Effie handed her the cards and she put them away. She then took out a small silk pouch with a different set of cards. “The object of the game is to get rid of as many cards as possible. The person who gets rid of all their cards first, wins.”

She shuffled the deck, making the cards arch and dancing in her hands before dealing them to the two girls and herself.

Mr. Pinon gave her a thankful look and backed away while his daughter was distracted. Before they could close the door, Henry heard his Aunt’s voice.

“I bless your road and dispel the evils before you.” She put the remaining cards on the table between the girls and met their gazes. “Swift and successful battle, my sons.”

Both Henry and Ash bowed their heads to her before they closed the door.

As they left the house, Mr. Pinon looked at them. “What language was your mother speaking?”

“Lunapsar,” Ash replied. They got into the awaiting carriage and headed directly to the ferry landing on one of the island tips.

“Oh, was that your family’s first language?” Mr. Pinon asked. He seemed to be forcing himself to speak to distract himself from his anxiousness.

The brothers shook their heads. “No,” Henry said. “Our first spoken language was Ashtari.”

The carriage shortened their time to the ferry. Throughout the entire ride to the mainland, Mr. Pinon was visibly nervous. He kept shuffling in his seat, looking towards the shore and shaking his knee. The expression on his face was as if he were waiting to go to battle to die.

“There is always a chance, no matter how miniscule, that we may die. Every moment we live is a risk of that.” His Aunt’s voice rang in his head. He’d been as old as Effie when he was first told that. However, he doubted that was what Mr. Pinon wanted to hear, so he kept his mouth shut.

Like normal, they took the trolley inland from the docks. Above them, Henry hadn’t lost sight of two black birds circling above the neighborhood. When they got closer, the two split with one flapping to a landing over the butcher's house while the other flew off.

“What is the plan?” Mr. Pinon looked at them as they stepped off the trolley and on to the somewhat busy afternoon plaza. Stalls were still in place, but it was that lull just before the time people left work.

The entire journey, the brothers hadn’t said anything. Henry didn’t know what Ash was thinking of, but his mind was racing with various simulations of what could happen. A few minutes on the trolley and Henry had noticed Ash had fallen asleep. It took half his strength not to shove his brother awake.

Ash yawned. “The piece of Terry offered on the array to mark her as the victim is a baby booth.”

Mr. Pinon nodded. “I’ll knock Boss out,” he said, stretching and then clenching his fist, as if readying himself for a fight. “That will also at least loosen his teeth.”

Henry let out a heavy sigh. “Mr. Pinon, there is no need to make it so messy. The bulk of the work has already been done; that was the information gathering, the research, the planning. The execution should be swift and smooth, with as little time wasting as possible.”

Mr. Pinon furrowed his brows. “Swift...do I need to run?”

The two brothers’ lips both tightened into identical lines. Henry took a long, heavy breath as Ash shut his eyes.

“Mr. Pinon,” Henry said as he released his breath and walked past him. “When we arrive, please don’t say a word. Just follow behind us as we collect the sample and get to the array. Ash and I already planned.”

The older man appeared confused, but nodded his head. “Understood, Young Master!”

Henry glanced at his brother once more and Ash nodded, playing with a piece of paper between his fingers. It didn’t seem to surprise Mr. Pinon that Henry knew where the butcher shop was. At this time of the day, the shop wasn’t very busy. Most people in the neighborhood were at work.

However, they could make out someone buying meat at the counter through the windows as they approached. The teenage boy buying meat paid and then left, giving the bald man on the other side of the counter a smile and wave before leaving. No one else seemed to be approaching the shop, so they advanced.

“Are there any other people who work at the shop other than you and the butcher?” Henry asked.

“No, but sometimes Rita helps,” Mr. Pinon replied. “Before I started working here, it was just her and Boss. Boss’ wife died years ago and unless it was a holiday rush, he would hire someone to work the counter.”

“Then we’re in the clear,” Ash said behind him. Henry opened the door, ringing the little bell hanging as they stepped inside. From the corner of his eye, he saw Ash put his hand against the side of the door.

“Alan!” The butcher’s eyes widened and then softened as he saw him. “You’re back! How’s Terry?”

Henry silently prayed that Mr. Pinon could control his emotions and expressions better than he did with Terry. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the open-mouthed stare on Mr. Pinon’s forlorn face. ...And I knew we shouldn’t have brought him.

Mr. Pinon’s red eyes looked at the butcher with betrayal. “Terry...Terry is....”

Come on...just relax. Don’t alarm him.... Henry pretended to look at the selection of meat cuts presented behind glass.

Mr. Pinon’s chest began to heave. His voice became strained as he almost wheezed out the next sentence. “Terry is cursed.”

Son-of-a.... Henry perked up and pretended to be shocked as he looked at the other man.

“Cursed!” The butcher’s eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets. “Why would someone curse a child?”

Ash lifted his hand to his chest, his face already set with a heart broken expression and prepared to try to salvage the situation. However, Mr. Pinon beat him to it.

“I should ask you that!” An indignant question filled the room and Henry inwardly swore once more.

“What?” The butcher looked at Mr. Pinon as if he were insane. “Alan, what are you talking about?”

“I know you cursed my daughter so I could marry yours!” Mr. Pinon erupted, his face flushed and puffed up. It seemed he’d been holding in a lot. “How could you do this to us? She is my daughter! My only child! You and Rita adored her-”

“Alan, calm down! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” The butcher said, looking confused as he shook his head. “I’d never curse Terry! I don’t know a thing about curses!”

Yelling filled the room and Henry glanced at his brother. Ash gave him a small nod once more. Mr. Pinon was yelling and pointing, tears streaming down his face as he told the butcher that he knew and repeatedly kept asking ‘why’. They were as close to him and Terry as blood relations.

The butcher continued to deny it, trying to calm Mr. Pinon down and reiterating that he did care about Terry and him. “I watched her grow up, Alan! It broke my heart to see her getting sicker and sicker. How could I bear to see her suffer?”

Mr. Pinon prepared to yell again, but this time Ash’s curious, but eerily calm voice cut in. “Is that why the second curse is so much stronger and designed to take her life in less than a week once it’s cast?”

The silence in the shop was suffocating.

Mr. Pinon’s brows seemed to stay raised as his wide eyes stared at Ash in horror. Henry glanced at Ash, as well. He hadn’t told them that.

“Agent Atractas, what are you-?”

“It’s written in magi-archaea, a proto-language of magic text,” Ash said, never taking his eyes off the butcher. “It contains the words for ‘one week’ and ‘inner heat’. A week starting with a small illness and ending in an intense fever. How many children die a year from simple fevers? No one would suspect a thing.”

The butcher looked at Ash with shock. “I’ve never heard-”

“We’ve already broken the curse,” Henry said. Mr. Pinon snapped his head towards him, filling him with relief.

“You have?”

“Why do you think we didn’t rush here?” Ash asked, raising his brows as he looked over at Mr. Pinon, who seemed as if he were ready to fall to his knees and praise the gods.

In contrast, a stunned look flashed across the butcher’s face. For a moment, his confusion was overshadowed by disbelief and a clarity in his eyes that hadn’t been there a moment earlier.

“Thank you, thank you!” Mr. Pinon clasped his hands together, but Henry kept his eyes on the butcher.

“In a moment, the rest of the city patrol will be here,” Henry said. “Mr. Gruse, you are under arrest for cursing-”

He didn’t finish his sentence. The butcher whirled around and ran into the shop.

“Ash!” The glowing white slip zoomed past Henry’s read before he could finish saying his brother’s name.

The paper slip embedded a corner of itself on the back of the butcher’s head, near the base of his skull. His body seemed to cramp and freeze up in an instant, sending him tumbling forward as soon as his legs failed. The slip began to smoke.

“Oh...oh, wow.” Ash’s jaw almost dropped. “Old man, what have you been doing to have that much rotting life essence?”

Mr. Pinon seemed stunned. “What...what’s going on?”

“The paper I use is from a tree that is considered sacred in many countries, including the Kingdom of Temples, Dishan, because it reacts to rotting life essence. Rotting life essence is what happens to life essence that has been used as a source to cast curses.” Ash couldn’t seem to talk his eyes off the dark smoke coming out. “And that man has cast a lot of curses.”

“How long does the slip take effect?” Henry asked as he rounded the counter to get to the butcher.

“Half a day.”

“Good enough.” Henry rolled the butcher onto his back. He met the wide eyes of the butcher that were filled with rage and undisguised resentment. Henry wasn’t sure if the rage was from the frustration, the helplessness, or the anger at them. Not that it mattered. Henry held the man’s shoulder down with one hand and raised his dominant one. “I’m not sorry for this.”

A crack was heard and Ash winced as Henry’s fist slammed into the butcher. Blood spewed out of his mouth and with it, some loose teeth. Henry used a rag to pick up a tooth and looked at Ash.

“Let’s go!” Ash prepared to run out the door, but stopped. “What about his daughter?”

“We’ll deal with her later. Let’s get to the array first.” Henry held the tooth in the bloody rag as he shot up and all but pushed Mr. Pinon out.

Mr. Pinon tried to turn to look at him as Ash led the way down the street to get to the house. “Isn’t the curse broken?”

“No, that was just to get his reaction,” Henry said. “It’s not a confession, but it was enough to know that he did it.”

They squeezed through the alley, with Ash reminding them to act natural so as not to alarm the neighbors. Ash kept a pleasant smile on his face even as he waved to one of the old ladies.

“Terry’s doing better!” Ash said as Henry used Mr. Pinon’s key to open the front door. The older man’s hands were trembling so hard, he could barely grip the key. “We’re getting more things.”

“Let her know we’re waiting for her to get better soon!” the old woman said with a warm smile.

“I will let her know, Mrs. Wang!” The door swung open and the three walked inside, shutting it behind them. They then raced up the stairs with Ash leading the way.

“Where is the array?” Mr. Pinon asked as he walked with shaking legs.

“Under Terry’s bed.”

“Under...!” Mr. Pinon turned white as a sheet of paper. He froze on the top step and looked as if he’d topple down at any moment. Henry reached over to grab him and pull him up to steady him. “My...my daughter’s bed?”

His breathing began to grow shallow and he leaned against the wall for support. Henry grasped his shoulder firmly. “Take a deep breath. In...out...in....”

Mr. Pinon’s breath shook. “How...?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Ash said. He ran into the room that he’d checked the day before. Terry’s bed was how he remembered leaving it; blankets and pillows folded and piled on top, near the foot of the wooden bed. He grabbed them and put them on the floor before folding up the thin, worn straw mattress and putting it to the side. The bare wooden bed base had nothing on it.

Henry knelt down and lifted the side of the bed. Ash stood at the foot and helped him turn it over. As soon as the underside of the bed was visible, Mr. Pinon let out a sharp gasp and seemed to become even paler.

He stumbled back, nearly slamming his shoulder against the door frame in his haste. He almost tripped as he stared at the circle, the characters, and the corresponding human figure drawn under the bed in a dark, thick liquid that had dried.

Stuck in the center was a tiny white stone-like object.

“How did they get Terry’s baby teeth?” Henry asked, looking at Mr. Pinon.

Mr. Pinon’s eyes watered. “I told her to put it on the windowsill and a fairy will come to take it and leave a coin. I would come and collect them while she slept. I didn’t know where to hide them, so Rita said she’d hide them at their house.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you are a bad judge of character?” Ash asked as he seemed to draw in the air above the array. He then took a small knife and began to pry off the tooth that had been hammered into the center of the array.

Mr. Pinon choked back a cry as he seemed lost in self-blame for having exposed his daughter to such terrible people. “My wife....”

Henry wiped the blood off the adult tooth he’d taken and waited until Ash had removed Terry’s tooth and held out his hand. The adult tooth seemed to be a molar and Ash let out a hiss.

“I didn’t hit him as hard as he deserved,” Henry said.

“He deserves more than being hit, that’s for sure.” Ash used the side of the blade to press the tooth into the wood, finding it softer than he expected. Once he was done, he sat on the floor by the bed and stared at it.

“What are we waiting for now?” Henry asked.

Ash narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know...Momma didn’t find any more detail.”

“Then, how do we know if it worked?” Mr. Pinon asked in a weak voice.

Ash frowned and looked up. “I need to see the butcher to see if that smell is on him.”

“You two go. I’ll wait here,” Henry said. “We still don’t know where his daughter is.” Ash nodded and patted Mr. Pinon’s shoulder. The older man didn’t seem to know what he was doing, looking from Henry to Ash and back before chasing after Ash.

Henry watched them leave and the firm, but calm expression on his face darkened. Outside, he heard the familiar caws of a raven. His brother might not have noticed, but he did. There was someone else in the house with them, and they were upstairs.

“Naali,” he said in his mind. “Freeze her.”

Even if Mr. Pinon didn’t give them the key, he still worked at the butcher shop. His key had long been within sight and it didn’t take much to make a copy.

The Gruses also knew the family’s schedule. Not only the work and school times, but if the father and daughter went somewhere else.

It was unfortunate for them that Henry had enough brushes with stalkers that he’d become almost paranoid in suspecting they’d try to break into his home when he wasn’t there.

He heard movement upstairs, just beyond the thin panels of floorboards separating the two floors. Right above Terry’s room was Mr. Pinon’s. Heavy breathing and tight gasping could be heard as a chill air came down from above.

Henry walked out of the small room and up the narrow stairs. Someone was moving inside the room, likely trying to get warm. Henry’s own footsteps were slow, measured, and silent.

The door knob was cold to the touch. Before he could turn it, it was pulled from his hand. He took two steps back and reached for his sword as a shivering woman with ice on her hair and an unnatural blue pallor stumbled out.

“Miss Gruse,” Henry said with a smile as his sword adjusted in his hand to have the pommel facing the surprised, shivering woman. “May I have a moment of your time...and one of your teeth?”

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

“How did you know it needed two teeth, Young Master?” Terry looked at Henry with awe as Effie sat beside her with a look of pride on her little face.

“I didn’t,” Henry replied as he put down the tray of food he’d brought to the two girls. “I just took her tooth in case we made a mistake and it was her, not the butcher who was the main caster. Ash and your father rushed back and said there was no smell, so I replaced the tooth and we watched Miss Gruse. No smell, either. So, we tried both.”

“And there was a smell?” Effie asked.

Henry nodded and poured them some thick hot chocolate from a small saucepan. “Ash said it was almost instant.”

Terry looked at Effie with wide eyes. “Is that how you knew the curse was broken?”

“Yeah, the smell on you disappeared.”

Terry jumped up in her seat and clapped, but slowly sank down and then lifted her arm to smell herself. She’d just finished her bath and was clean of gel, and in new borrowed pajamas from Effie. To be on the safe side, Terry remained in gel for another two days. Her fever never returned.

Ash had assisted the Adventurer’s Guild and the Federation Guards to collect the bodies of the butcher and his daughter. Drae arrived with some mages from the Guild just as the father and daughter were in the last stages of the fever. If Henry’s counts were right, it took seven hours for the fever to consume them.

According to the Healer from the Guild, the extreme fever caused organ failure. That was what killed them. Terry was lucky to have been kept cool with gel to avoid this. Though she was still a bit weak physically and in appearance, her energy level was high.

The two little girls had become such fast friends that Effie decided to drag her blanket and pillow to the guest room so they could have a sleepover.

Following her, Commodore had pulled his doggy bed inside, as well.

Mr. Pinon would be relegated to the room next door.

Henry chuckled. “Our guesses aren’t always completely right, so we should be flexible and leave room for maneuvering,” he told them. “We tried ‘all the keys’ for the lock, sort to speak.” He moved the pan aside and added a dollop of cream on the chocolate. “All right. Bedtime snacks are ready. Don’t tell your mom, but it’s more than usual.”

“It’s okay! We’re celebrating Terry’s health!” Effie bounced to the side of the bed and slid off, followed by an equally enthusiastic Terry. When the little girl seemed unsteady, Effie helped guide her to the seat.

“Wow...you eat like this every night?” Terry asked Effie.

“No, only for special occasions,” his sister replied. Henry crossed the room to close the curtains. “So, are you sure you don’t have any memories of your past life?”

Henry froze. He looked over his shoulder at his sister.

Ignorantly, Terry shook her head. “No, just of when I was little.” She chewed on a cookie and Effie wrinkled her nose.

“Hmm...well, what about another world? Usually, after a near death experience, like a fever or head injury, you might remember things that don’t exist here,” Effie said, encouraging. Henry squinted his eyes. “Like new inventions...or farming techniques?”

Terry sighed, somewhat disappointed. “No....”

“That’s boring.” The two munched and drank their drink.

“Knock knock!” Ash’s voice came from the door. He peeked in and beamed. “Are you two ready for your sleepover!”

“Yeay!” Two high pitched cheers filled the room, making Henry wince and Commodore fold his ears back. “Second Brother, do you have the games?”

“I do,” Ash said, putting them on the foot of the bed nearby. “If you have questions, come, and get me. I’m in my workroom with my friend working on the new slip plates.”

Henry nodded as he passed. “But don’t play too late. Bedtime in three hours, maximum.”

“Yes!” The girls chorused. The two brothers headed out the door and left it partially open. Ash put some slips on the door frame as a precaution.

“Did you know what Effie asked her?”

“Is it about the rebirther or other worlder?” Ash asked.

Henry drew his head back and looked at him. “The what?” He narrowed his eyes. “You know what she’s talking about?”

“Of course, I do,” Ash said. “I told her about them.”

Henry let out an ‘ah’ and then nodded. “Bedtime story?”

Ash shook his head as he walked past. “No. Movements Through Inter-Dimensional Time, Planes, and Worlds, Victoria Traceras of the Southern Tracerases,” he said. He turned around and put his arms behind his back as he continued to walk.

“Theories.” Henry looked at his brother. Ash shook his head, still smiling.

“Ash!” Nera’s voice called from the top of the stairs. “Hana is here.”

Ash’s eyes crinkled up. “No,” he mouthed. “Not just theories.”