Giradin met with Fulk, Shlomo, and Mu in his room at the inn.

"You don't think the murderer is threatening Crows?" Fulk asked, his fingers tracing along the bandages on his face.

Shlomo shook his head, his beak whipping back and forth. "It wouldn't really make any sense. Let's look at what we've got so far: a pile of dead birds and a traveling merchant with a broken neck."

"How do we know the two are even related?" Fulk asked. He pressed his index finger down hard on the bandages on his cheek, causing himself to wince.

"The method's the same," said Mu, the moonlight peering through the window glinting off his dark lenses. "Eyes torn out, broken limbs, and a snapped neck. These aren't exactly common methods of murder. You should know that."

Fulk sneered.

Giradin raised an index finger. "Could the victim... I think Anselet was his name? Does he have any connection to us? Maybe he's an informant, or Melcher Fitz knows him?"

Shlomo pointed to Giradin. "I thought of that and asked Fitz about it, but he said no. I asked a few people around town about it too. Barely anyone knew Anselet. The few who did really only knew him because they bought goods from him. He supplied some of the stores nearby."

Fulk folded his arms. "Then maybe this was all part of a deal gone rotten? Maybe Asslet cheated someone and they killed him for it."

"Then why all the dead birds?" Giradin asked. "Was that to threaten Anselet? That seems a bit much for a trade deal gone wrong."

Fulk scratched his chin and furrowed his brow. "You're right... If someone sold me something worthless I don't think I'd go to the extreme of killing hundreds of crows to make him nervous, I'd just cut his throat and be done with it. Whoever this was really hated him!"

"Or maybe he was just a lunatic," said Shlomo with a shrug. "Some men do violence for gain, some for anger, and some because they think it's fun."

Mu rested a hand on Shlomo's shoulder. "I think we're leaving out one possibility, maybe the killer isn't human."

Fulk snorted. "Ripping out someone's eyes and snapping their limbs and neck aren't really typical behaviors for vampires or vermin."

"I know," said Mu. "But there are more horrible things in this world than you can imagine, Fulk. I've been to Africa, Asia, and now Europe, and I've heard so many terrifying legends, and seen things which would make even your skin crawl. I've seen the headless men, whose faces rest in their chests. I've seen men with the heads of dogs and wolves. I've seen the monopods, who hop on one leg as thick as a tree-trunk. I've heard tales of sea beasts big enough to swallow ships, of vengeful spirits who couldn't let go of hatred, of the fair-folk luring victims into their gardens and putting them to sleep for a hundred years. I even visited a town built upon the ashes of an old, Roman city, which the locals said had been burned to the ground by dragon's fire."

Fulk snorted. "If such beasts exist, the plague is the least of our worries."

Giradin gave Fulk a questioning look. "I thought the Knights Templar were assigned to protect us from monsters when they came back from the crusades."

Fulk rolled his eyes. "Pfft! Please! The Pope was clearly trying to make the Templars appear like they still had a noble purpose. All they've really been doing is running banks and turning a profit. The Church wants to pretend it didn't just condone usury by allowing the Templars to do as they wish. Tell me you don't believe all this nonsense about noble crusaders protecting us from monsters?"

Mu poked Fulk in the chest with his index finger. "Tell me you aren't so dense as to think vampires and vermin are the only monsters in all the world!"

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"Don't you fucking touch me!" Fulk snapped, knocking Mu's hand away.

"Grow up, Fulk!" Mu snapped back. "There's more going on in this world than your tiny mind can grasp."

Fulk opened his mouth to argue, but closed it again, folded his arms, and slumped back against the nearest wall. "Alright, so our killer might be some kind of monster or spirit or something. So, what do we do with that comforting thought?"

Mu pointed at the floor in front of Fulk. "You and Giradin are going to stay here and take your medicine, as before. They probably haven't buried Anselet just yet, so I'm going to see if the sheriff will let me inspect the body. I'll use the usual excuse, looking for plague. Wraiths and fair-folk usually leave behind some kind of residue on their victims, so I'll test for that."

Mu turned his beak to Shlomo. "In the meantime, you keep an eye on this inn, make sure the militiamen don't come back for Giradin. All too often, when local law can't solve a crime they want someone to pin it on so they can at least look like they're doing something."

Shlomo nodded. "Aye, my lord."

Mu and Shlomo both chuckled.

..........................

It was late at night when Mu, Shlomo, and Fulk left Giradin's room, and the stress of the day weighed down on the former cobbler's eyelids. In spite of all his fears of madmen, monsters, and demons, he knew that staying up all night would not keep him any safer than getting a good night's sleep would.

With a chair propped up against the door to keep it shut, and a wooden bar across the window, Giradin laid down to sleep in his bedroll.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been away in the realm of dreams when he awoke to the horrible stench of burnt flesh and hair. He gagged and choked on the smell and it stuck to the roof of his mouth.

His eyes found their way to an orange glow across the room, and he heard the sound of suffering coming from the mass before him.

The chair still stood, propped against the door, and the bar remained across the window. Yet, a figure in the shape of a man stood across the room from Giradin. With the curtains pulled closed, the only light in the room came from the glowing embers on and inside the man's body. His skin was gray as ash, and his eyes red as flames.

Giradin jumped out of his bed and fumbled in the dark for his seax. The blade toppled from its place on the dresser and clattered to the ground.

While Giradin bent over to pick up his weapon, the ashen man soared across the room and seized him by the throat.

Giradin yelped as the stranger pinned him to the wall behind him. The seax slipped from his fingers and fell again, so he punched his assailant in the jaw.

The jaw shattered, spraying ashes across the room. Giradin's fist moved through hot embers, and he felt the skin on the back of his hand burn.

The stranger still stood, his lower jaw now gone, though his face was still intact. Where the jaw used to be, Giradin could see down his throat, where flamed danced inside.

"Help!" Giradin cried out, but the ashen man's fingers tightened around his throat, choking out his cries.

Giradin flailed and thrashed in the monster's grip, but his assailant remained as unmovable as stone. The ashes which had scattered from Giradin's attack floated through the air and re-formed the shape of the cinder man's lower jaw.

The ashen man raised his free hand and inched his fingers toward Giradin's face, reaching toward his right eye.

Oh, God!

Giradin kicked at the monster's gut, and he heard the sound of ashes and cinders breaking apart.

The fingers drew closer to Giradin's face, and the heat from his assailant's body singed his eyebrows.

Giradin forced his eye closed in the vain hope that his eyelid would protect him from the monster's assault.

The hot fingertips met Giradin's eyelid, burning away his eyelashes and causing the flesh to bubble and melt. In spite of the chokehold on his throat, Giradin screamed.

Bang!

Something crashed into the door, and the chair rattled.

"Giradin! Open the door!" came Fulk's voice from the other side.

Giradin wished so badly he could have cried out to Fulk, but all he could do was scream as the ashen creature burned through his eyelid and seized the eye underneath.

Sharp, stinging and throbbing pain spread through Giradin's skull as the monster gripped his right eye between its index finger and thumb.

Then it started to pull.

Bang!

Fulk was trying to break through.

Giradin's screams grew so intense the back of his throat bled as the monster jerked its arm back and yanked out his right eye in one swift motion.

Bang!

One last crash and Fulk broke the door open and the chair snapped in two.

Crack!

Fulk's mace smashed in the ashen monster's head, leaving behind dancing flames which rose from the neck.

Crack!

Crack!

Crack!

Fulk bashed the creature again and again with his mace, until its body collapsed into a pile of ashes and burning embers on the floor. Its grip released Giradin, and he fell on his knees, then on his face.

Fulk seized Giradin by the arm. "Run!"

The two of them fled the room, down the stairs, and out the front door of the inn, into the cold, lonely night.