The return trip seemed far longer than the journey there. The trees passed by in agonizing slowness, exhausting as I was from the fight. The battle seemed not to have any effect on my uncle, who appeared entirely unscathed from the incident. There was no limp in sight as we traveled down the mountain. Truthfully, I was beginning to understand why my mother held him in such high regard.

As we drew close to the dwarven camp, Uncle Finneus turned toward me with those unnerving eyes. “Are you any good at tracking?” he asked.

“Somewhat. Though I haven’t had a chance to practice it in a while,” I replied.

He nodded, “All right, Bartholomew, if you wouldn’t mind, move west and circle the camp. See if you can find any tracks or disturbances that are out of the ordinary. I’ll move east and meet you on the other side.”

“Okay, Uncle Finneus,” I said and began moving closer to the camp.

When I was ten yards from the clearing where the camp was held, I began to sweep the area, crouched and moving back and forth as I looked for any tiny detail that seemed out of the ordinary. I spent more time than I usually would carry out such an easy task, but I was concerned that Uncle Finneus might look over what I had already searched. And if he found something I missed, I wasn’t sure I could handle the embarrassment.

There were trails of small game, birds chirping, and even what looked to be the tracks of a large cat. But nothing that I could in any way use to explain the disturbances. I was only a quarter of the way around the camp when Uncle Finneus suddenly appeared in front of me, making me cry out in surprise.

“Ahh, good to see you, Bartholomew. Were you able to find anything?” he asked.

“No, nothing out of the ordinary,” I said.

Uncle Finneus nodded his head and began to pace back and forth in front of me. “It is as I suspected. I was also unable to find a single speck of dirt out of place. It is very strange. We will have to do this the old-fashioned way if we want to catch the monster. Yes, I do believe I have just the thing. Anyway, Bartholomew, why don’t you head back to camp and see if you can find us something suitable for dinner? I’ll meet you in a bit. I have some things I need to prepare before. Also, see if you can find some coffee. It’s going to be a long night.”

He flashed a predatory smile at me, then disappeared. I don’t mean that he walked into the forest and the trees blocked me from seeing him. No, I mean that he was there one moment, then gone the next. Unsure where to speak, I shouted, “No problem, Uncle Finneus. I’ll see what Bob has available. He had invited us to have dinner with him earlier, so I’ll be there.”

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With that, I headed off to find Bob and gather up food. It didn’t take long after entering the dwarven camp before the short, stocky figure of Bob with a now clean-shaven face was running towards me. Out of breath and doubled over, Bob asked if everything was okay and if we had caught the perpetrator. I vaguely explained that we had managed to track down a spider monster and kill it. I left out that Uncle Finneus had survived a blow that would have killed most elves and my fire magic for reasons that, I’m sure, are apparent to everyone.

“To kill an Enki with just the two of you? Wow, that is impressive. They’re vile creatures who nest in caves and the tunnels of the mine. I thought we had exterminated them all last year. He must have been a cunning bugger to survive this long. If you wouldn’t mind, tomorrow, could you lead me to the beast’s nest so we can bury the bones? The cave of an abomination is no place for a dwarf to lie in eternal rest.”

“Yeah, not a problem, Bob. I’d be happy to show you.” I shifted from one foot to another, debating how to change the subject, before I decided to push through. “Uncle Finneus wanted me to ask about food. He had to go check on something, but he’ll be back shortly and wanted me to find food.”

“Ahh, that’s fine, that’s fine. Come along. Fred should have stew on the fire already. He may have even caught a rat to add to it.”

I nodded and followed Bob, trying not to show my disgust at the mention of rat meat. I couldn’t help but remember with shame that I had not appreciated my mother’s cooking as much as I should have.

We arrived in front of Bob's tent after a short while. The tent itself showed no difference from the rest scattered throughout the muddy clearing. In front of the tent entrance was a campfire with a log surrounding it. John, the dwarf I had met earlier, stood over the cauldron as it bubbled and steamed. He waved when he saw us approaching.

“How did it go?” he asked.

Bob waved his hand, dismissing the question. “I’ll tell you about it later. They’ll be here for a bit longer, though. It smells like meat. Did you manage to catch some game then?”

John grinned, showing his white canine teeth. “Of course, I did. We can’t have our guests going hungry. Bartholomew, you’re not vegetarian, are you? I know some elves despise the taste of meat.”

For a moment, I thought about lying. I was not interested in trying rat meat. But the excited look from the dwarf cooking made me reconsider, and I shook my head in the negative. Before I could second guess my decision, a bowl full of soup was suddenly in my hands, with morsels of meat floating around inside, looking far too rat-like. John looked at me with an expectant smile.

I scooped up a spoonful of the liquid, closed my eyes, and stuffed it into my mouth. A warm spicy substance that was not unpleasant trickled down my throat. I would go so far as to say it was edible. Not quite up to the standards of my mother, but good nonetheless.

“Do you know what your Uncle Finneus suspects is the cause of the disappearances?” asked John.

“I have no idea. My Uncle Finneus has not kept close counsel with me on this matter. I think he is waiting till he has some confirmation of his suspicions before he is willing to share them,” I said.

“Fair enough. What is it like living with that uncle of yours? He seems to be a bit of an odd fellow.”

I shrugged, “It’s not that bad. It might surprise you, but while I haven’t been living with him long, he seems to live a quiet life.”

The look of disbelief that crossed John’s face showed he was unconvinced by my answer. I shrugged and went back to eating the stew. I had already finished my meal of stew and unidentified meat when a small black cat with large green eyes leaped onto the log I was sitting on. It stared at me without blinking.

“Hello, kitty. Would you like some soup?" I asked.

“That would be most lovely, thank you, Bartholomew. Setting traps is such an exhausting endeavor; stew will be just the thing to help with such exhaustion,” replied the cat.

I glanced around to find Uncle Finneus but was unable to find him. When I turned back, Uncle Finneus was sitting beside me in place of the cat.

“Ahh!! Uhm, hi, Uncle Finneus. Were you the cat just now?” I asked.

Uncle Finneus twirled his cane. “Good eye, nephew. I’m surprised you were able to figure it out the first time you saw it. It usually takes at least three times before someone can figure it out.”

“Mother told me you knew shifting magic, but that was far beyond something so run of the mill. What was it?” I said.

“That is a tale for another time, my boy. For now, I need to eat, and you need to find coffee. We are going to catch a monster tonight.”