Flip came down the stairs in Brody’s first best bathrobe the next morning, bleary eyed and intent on fixing a pot of coffee. It hadn’t been a restful night. He paused at the foot of the steps. Trish sat on one of the windowsills in the family room, curtains tweaked open to let in the weak pre-dawn light, looking out with an exhausted but thoughtful expression. She held a string cradle twined through her fingers.

“Oh. Good morning,” he said, a little flustered.

She didn’t react, fingers flicking smoothly through the cradle.

He immediately felt foolish. “She’s deaf, Flip, come on,” he said to himself.

He chuckled, then slipped into the kitchen.

When the smells of coffee reached her, Trish stirred. Flip smiled at her when she entered the kitchen. She smiled wanly back. He poured her a cup. They sat together and watched the sun rise through the kitchen window. Trish sighed and put her head on the table. Flip let her rest.

----------------------------------------

Brody was spreading jam on his toast and just going for a fresh glob when the demon said, “Now is a good time to hear about the last banshee.”

Brody dropped his knife into the jam.

Flip chuckled nervously. “Over breakfast?”

Brody looked up at the demon, who pointedly looked at Trish, who was looking at him. She licked butter off her thumb then sat back with a mug of coffee, idly bringing her foot up onto the seat of her chair. She looked as tired as Brody felt. No milk and honey in bed for him this morning. Partly because there were things to do, partly because they hadn’t gotten milk yesterday since Alsom had to choose someone not to receive milk, partly because he still hadn’t gotten the smell of spoiled milk out of his nose yet.

Trish balanced the mug on her knee and signed, ‘We have much to do, Reeve. Unless you want to issue a public warning, this is how we avoid more deaths.’

Flip said, “Over breakfast it is, then.”

Brody said, “We can take this elsewhere, Flip.”

‘Yes, I’m sorry, Flip. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,’ Trish signed. ‘I wouldn’t dream of disrespecting your hospitality.’

“No, no, I’ll stay,” he said. He leaned into Brody. “If that’s alright with you?”

Brody pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Always.”

Trish took a sip of her coffee, looking between the two of them with a faint smile.

Brody bit his toast and chewed. His mouth was dry so he took a gulp of coffee. Then, because he ran out of things to put in his mouth, he started to speak.

“I was two years into my deputyship the last time this happened.”

“This was about twenty years ago,” Flip contributed, pulling the knife from the jam jar and swiping it on Brody’s abandoned toast.

Brody nodded. “Yes, twenty years or so. I guess I was around your age, Warden. I was called out to the Ferrow’s farm to help find their daughter. She’d gone to a friend’s house two days prior. When she didn’t come home that night, they’d assumed she was staying over. When she didn’t come home the next day, they thought something was wrong. After asking around, the Reeve and I decided to form up a search party and comb the part of the woods she would have cut through. We found her, dead, much like Pol. Sitting against a tree, eyes like spider eggs, ears burst. It was clear to everyone that something weird had gotten her. The Reeve sent a report to Selton asking for a weirdwarden, but the Ferrows were mad as hell. They wanted blood. They didn’t want to wait. They put an ad for a hunter in the Selton Times. Within days the town was swamped.”

Trish frowned. ‘And the weirden?’

Brody shook his head. “No sign. We had no word on the weirden. The Reeve took one look at all the hunters and realized it was about to turn into a bloodbath. Not that anybody knew the weird thing was a banshee at that point, but she probably had a bit of a weird sense herself. So she handed the reins over to me and took herself off to Selton. Said she’d be back in a day or two with a weirden. And so there I was, just a kid, with a town fit to bursting with bloodthirsty idiots and a weird we didn’t know. Of course, it all went horribly wrong the day the Reeve left.”

Brody sipped his coffee, bracing himself. Flip rubbed his back soothingly.

Brody cleared his throat. “The hunters went out en masse at all hours of the day and night. Thinking back on it, it was a miracle nobody got killed in those early days.”

‘Not a miracle. A big crowd likely frightened the banshee away,” Trish signed. ‘They dislike constant activity.’

Brody’s mouth thinned. “That was true until after the hunters found a… a nest. They approached it during the day, because they thought everything would be asleep. They killed everything inside. But they only killed the babies. Not that they knew at the time. So they planned a big party to celebrate. The Ferrows were going to foot the bill. And, well. Mama banshee was beside herself. When I stopped by the Ferrow farm the next morning… it was a charnel house. Twenty some people and almost every Ferrow, flesh laid bare to the bone. The only survivor was Alsom, and he’d been inside sick with a fever that night. Every night after that was terrible. All we knew was that if we stepped outside a building after midnight, we stood a good chance of dying. And the screams of the thing.”

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

He shuddered. “You’ve never heard anything like it. Sorry. I never heard anything like it. Three days went by like that: sleeping in the day, terrified and helpless at night. And then the Hunter came. He’d gotten wind of the Ferrows’ offer and figured he could do it. Alsom agreed to pay up if his family was avenged. The next day, the Hunter dropped the head of this terrible creature in the town square and demanded payment. It was then the weirden arrived, Reeve in tow. The weirden fined the Hunter, the town, and Alsom, then took the head and left. Said something about weird rights. The Reeve was forced into semi-retirement, not that she minded. I think she felt guilty about leaving it with me, but I don’t think a weirden would have ever come if she hadn’t left. After about a year or so, I was Reeve. And that’s the story.”

Trish signed, ‘I’m very sorry, Reeve Brody. It’s a terrible thing that was done to your community. You were very brave to deal with it by yourself when you were so inexperienced. I actually recognize this story. The village was never named but…’

Brody sneered. “So we’re a teachable moment for young weirdens? Good to know.”

She shook her head, leaning forward. ‘No, you misunderstand. You were a seminal case for why weirden service shouldn’t be reserved for the whims of the nobility. You’re the reason I’m able to be here today.’

“I’m so glad our blood-soaked earth had a purpose,” Brody spat, shoving back from the table. He went and stood at the sink, hands gripping the metal tight. He stared sightlessly out at the woods. He was breathing hard, he noticed abstractly.

The kitchen was deathly silent behind him.

Brody slowed his breathing. He sunk his head below his shoulders for a moment, shutting his eyes. A gentle hand pressed on his shoulder.

“Do you want some air?” Flip asked quietly.

Brody shook his head. He turned to the table, leaning back against the sink. He reached out to grab Flip’s hand for a moment. They held their gaze. Then he sighed and looked back to the table.

Trish was unreadable. The demon was alarmed.

“I’m sorry,” Brody said. “That was uncalled for.”

The demon said, “Trish says it’s fine. She thinks she was maybe a bit indelicate. But I think you apologize a lot for things within your control.”

Brody noticed it didn’t sign that last bit. He thought that was cheating, but what else did he expect from a demon?

----------------------------------------

Trish looked sympathetically at Brody. He was clearly very affected by his last encounter with a weirden. She didn’t blame him. To think that this was the village of that horrible injustice, both to the village and the weird…

Still. On to practical matters. She was here now and that was what mattered.

She signed, ‘Thank you for sharing. That must have been difficult. But now that I understand the context, I can see why you were reluctant to share the news of the banshee’s attack. My suggestion was made without consideration of your town’s history. I can only apologize for giving you bad advice out of ignorance and praise your wisdom in not taking it.’

Brody looked at her sharply, searching her face. Whatever he saw, he must have liked. His own features softened a bit and he said, “Thank you.”

‘How do you intend to explain my presence?’ she asked. ‘I’m not exactly subtle.’

“If you just left the demon-“

‘Chatter is non-negotiable when dealing with humans. Other than that, I am willing to follow instructions regarding movement. But we move together,’ Trish signed firmly.

Brody pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine. If that’s how it must be. Since we can’t hide your weird, could you say you’re… performing an inspection?”

‘An inspection of what?’ Trish asked, genuinely bemused.

“I don’t know. You’re the weirden,” Brody said defensively.

Flip said, “What about the land in general? Is that something you do?”

‘No, not really. Usually it’s only when the land holds some sort of unique potential that must be monitored semi-regularly.’

“Perfect. Then you can say the folks in Selton have noted potential here and want you to inspect.”

‘And if people ask what sort of potential?’

“I’m sure you can think of something,” Flip said with a charming smile.

Trish evaluated that. ‘I suppose.’

Brody said, “What else do you need?”

Trish signed, ‘First, what have you told the public about that man’s death?’

“Pol. His name was Pol.”

‘Pol. Yes. Forgive me.’

Brody ran his hand down his face. “Nothing. Fortunately he’s always been a bit of a loner. No family to speak of to insist on seeing the body. We said he fell while walking in the woods and hit his head.”

Trish nodded. ‘That’ll do for now, as long as no one else dies. Let me be clear: someone will likely die without precautions if I don’t find the banshee. Banshees are territorial, so this one won’t go far. It’s likely this one has been in the area for years without incident.’

“An incident. Nice name for a murder. Why now? Why not just leave us be?” Brody asked.

Trish signed, ‘I’m not sure. That’s something to find out. But keep in mind they often don’t mean to cause harm. They usually don’t realize what they are doing until after it’s done. Sometimes they never do.’

Brody’s face twisted. “Don’t mean to cause harm!”

‘Not usually, no.’

“But-“

‘What happened to your town was an extremely rare tragedy. Likely the banshee parent went mad after their children were murdered.’

“And what about what happened to Pol? The Ferrow girl? They’d done nothing to the creature!”

‘Tragic accidents. A banshee knows better than to speak in front of humans, but they weep when they are alone by nature. They sometimes doesn’t notice when someone else is there.”

“Does it know it can kill us with its voice?” Flip asked.

‘Yes.’

“You can’t tell me Pol died of an accident,” Brody said. “Not when those things know what they can do.”

‘It’s a difficult case, Reeve. It might be an accident. It might not be. That’s why I was sent. I must sit in judgement of the weird and determine if this was an accident or if the banshee intended to take a life. If the first, I must work with the banshee to ensure they understand proper procedures for living near human settlements or relocate them. If the second… that’s more complicated.’

Brody shook his head. “A murder is a murder.”

Trish signed, ‘You have the right to think so, but please remember: you do not have the jurisdiction to interfere.’

Brody said, “As long as you or the thing don’t interfere with mine.”

Trish signed, ‘Thank you. Now, please show me where he was found, and we’ll figure out where to go from there.’