Phillips Harbour.
Monday, October 19, 1868. Afternoon
The trapper's dog has done little save sleep after the prior evening's conversation. The old dog was pretty worn out by the adventures of the prior days. However, when he finally gets up he seems much spryer and energetic for the rest.
Randall is starting to wonder if Miss Pau has forgotten the plan for today by the time she finally shows up at half-past two. It's another cool, grey day, but the young woman is sweating when she arrives. "Mrs. Stephenson was desperate to finish haying today, before it rained again. I am glad that's finally over." She sighs, leaning against her umbrella. "I admit, sir, I envy you your house to yourself. I need to invent some excuse for why I need more time to myself. Perhaps something about ancient Chinese customs or honoring the dead. Or both."
"That would work, at least for the short term." Randall agrees, adding "And the short term is all we have left, one way or the other."
Yotee, meanwhile, was whiling away the time through an ancient coyote custom of honouring dead fish, by digging one out of the muck and bringing it back to share. He trots in happily with the decaying mass spilling out either side of his muzzle. He flops it down in front of Mix. Hey! Look what I found.
Miss Pau nods, her normally cheerful expression turning melancholy. "I have taken some pains to fit in, so far. As the days grow fewer I find myself wondering why, when surely it will not matter in two weeks. And yet .... " She gives a little shrug. "I do not know." She tilts to one side, looking past Mr. Waite to spot Mix and Yotee, and wrinkles her nose as the coyote turns up.
"Has there been any word in town concerning wolf attacks, Miss Pau?" Randall looks at the rifle hanging on the kitchen wall. "Until we can establish our bonifides with St. John..."
The old dog bends his head down and gives the fish a good snuffling-over. Then he fixes an eye on the coyote and rumbles in an almost amused way.
Yeah, that's what I was going to do, roll in it. The coyote noses the old dog, unless you want to first.
Miss Pau follows Waite's gaze, and nods. "I have not heard news of her, not since the attack on the Englishman's chimpanzee. Word has not reached the town about Mr. Whitehorse yet, not even that he has been missing. Perhaps as an itinerant, they do not pay much attention to him anyway." She pauses. "I wish I knew what she planned to do next."
Miss Pau blanches as she watches the two canines with the very smelly, very dead, fish. "Could the two of you not wait until after we return to do that?" she pleads.
"I'll have to see what I can about finding her lair, we'll need that for the calculations for the Banefire." Randall slings the rifle over his shoulder, and gestures out the kitchen door. "Shall we go, while there is light to see these stones?"
Mix chuffs at Yotee, but softly. When MIss Pau makes her plea, he looks over at her and barks once.
The Chinese woman needs little encouragement to leave the now-fragrant kitchen behind. She gives Mix a grateful smile at the bark, and heads out, beckoning to the dog with one hand.
Maaybe. Yotee grins at Mix, then happily snaps up the fish. She's right! It'll smell even better when we get back. He bounds outside with his cologne and drops it beside the stairs. Where to now?
Mix follows along after the humans, looking up at Miss Pau curiously, as if awaiting instructions.
"Lead on, my fine friend," Miss Pau bends to tell Mix. "Find one of these stone arrangements the old woman had your friend erect."
Mix lifts his head skyward and looks all around, getting his bearings. Then, seeming to remember something, the dog gallivants off at a canter, leaving everyone else to follow in his wake.
The three follow Mix's lead for two or three miles of rambling, mostly north and a little east. When they finally come to a halt, it's on the sloping, tree-covered ground near the hills to the north of town. Mix circles a few trees before he finally finds what he was looking for, in the lee of big pine. It's a small pile of oddments: mostly stones, but also seashells, feathers, and bits of charred wood. The pile is carefully arranged so that it's taller than it is wide. From the look of it, a few pieces have fallen off of its top and been tossed by animals or the wind to one side.
Randall looks around the area, then drops down on one knee near the pile. At first, all he does is silently stare at it, tilting his head to peer at the sides.
Yotee heads immediately for a piece that has fallen from the top. He bites it, pawing the rock, finally contemplating the whole structure. You should mark it Randall.
Having found his quarry, the old dog trots off to one side of the thing and sits, staring at it too. The expression on his face, however, is one that he might wear upon seeing some fine lady's tiny poodle with pink bows around its ears and tail.
"Didn't bring a pencil, I'm afraid." Randall replies absently, before getting up and brushing his knee. "Funny thing, this. Wasn't expecting it."
"How very curious," Miss Pau says, frowning at the heap. "As though someone were trying to work a spell without knowing the right way to go about it." She smiles at Yotee's comment, then wrinkles her nose in thought. "What do you make of it, Mr. Waite?"
Staring around, Randall is looking everywhere except at the pile now. "Well, I think I know what its supposed to be, Miss Pau, but its not."
Well, it was Mix's Old Man who made it. Pr'haps the old woman thought something bad might occur while putting it together and sent him to dance it first. Yotee stretches his mouth wide, snapping it shut after a lengthy yawn.
"What was it meant to be?" Miss Pau asks, tilting her head to look at the man. She frowns at Yotee's suggestion, but doesn't refute the idea.
"Its a badly done copy of a, well, of a ward. It looks like its based on the work that the Necromancer supposedly did, to aid in closing the Banefire." Randall shrugs "It looks like whoever did this had about as much information as I did, and likely less."
The coyote tilts his head, staring in contemplation at the structure. Would I be able to knock over a real ward?
Miss Pau's frown deepens. "A Game spell?" She hesitates, then adds, "It's almost as though Mrs. Everchild wanted someone to think the trapper was a Closer."
Randall shrugs at Yotee's question, and turns a sharp glance at Miss Pau's comment. "That's an interesting interpretation, it bears some thought. It may have been deliberate incompetance, rather than ignorance. Brutal business, if that's the case."
The Chinese woman shudders, shaking her head. "When did she ask your master to start erecting these, Mix?" she asks.
Mix tilts his head to one side, considering. Then the dog barks a few times.
Miss Pau nods, twisting her mouth. "And he was killed on the day after the Death of the Moon? So he started making these well before the moon's death."
Yotee extends a paw, resting it on a block mid-way up the pile. Are they for a fake gate as well, or the real one?
The stones shift a little under Yotee's paw. The end of one of the feathers twitches in the breeze. A few drops of rain fall. "Fake wards to influence a fake gate?" Miss Pau asks Yotee, looking puzzled.
If she was having the Indian pretend to be a closer, perhaps she was having these pretend to close a gate, and the real one is somewhere else. Unless they go in a line. Yotee removes his paw, glumly setting it on the ground.
"I really can't say, Yotee. If the people that planned these wards thought they were doing it right, then these piles are 'real', even if they won't work." Randall gestures vaguely around the area. "If they were deliberately faked, then I can't say if they are in the right area or not."
So... we find the other ones then? The coyote looks around, sniffing, then focuses on Mix.
"So these might be a screen for a real Closer's spell." Miss Pau stands, looking around. "This is not an auspicious place for working a spell."
"Sounds like a plan. Noting their locations may be helpful later." Randall stares at the pile again, then adds "But the question is, do we destroy them or not? If they think they are 'real', then hopefully they will waste time replacing them. If they know they are fake or just won't work, then they won't. So, I'd say tear them down as we go."
Miss Pau considers that, then nods agreement. "It would let Mrs. Everchild know that someone is investigating these, if she follows up. But that fact cannot surprise her, and if she thinks we took these for real it may give her some false reassurance."
Yotee stand up, non-chalantly turning around, in the process of which a hindpaw steps on a flat rock and a bushy tail sweeps. A kick and a twist later there is nothing but a scattering of stones.
The trapper's dog leads them to four more piles, all similar to the first, and they're each destroyed in turn. The trip takes a little longer, as Yotee stops to investigate trees, and occassionally to mark spots. Every time Yotee marks something, Mix has to mark it, too. Canines.
The last of the rock piles is in a nook of the hills, near a little spring, and the location makes Miss Pau nervous. "This is a good place for a casting. Not like the others. Do you suppose that is chance?"
She till your Man where to put the piles, or just make them anywhere? Yotee contemplates the spring. He licks his muzzle, it's been a while since he's had a drink.
"I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to say, Miss Pau. I'm very much a ritualist, not a mage. Spell casting isn't my forte." Randall answers, looking around, memorizing where the location is in relation to the rest.
Mix barks to Yotee a few times in answer.
Miss Pau frowns again, shaking her head. "This is not right. Mrs. Everchild, she should not have involved him in the Game, not when he was not a Player."
Yotee approaches cautiously, sniffing the air, his ears swivelling. His body language has been tense, starting some time after the fourth pile of rocks, most likely during one of his delays. That last pile, it was almost right. It was inside the quiet woods. Maybe they're near where they are supposed to be, and this one is right.
'Clunk' goes the rock Randall kicks, as it bounces off the pile. "These all have been rubbish, Yotee, as far as I can tell. Not going to work, I'm afraid. Not even if they have the Coin."
The Chinese woman glances back over her shoulder toward the old trees of the deciduous forest. "Those woods have a power of their own," she says. "But Mr. Whitehorse did not place his marker so as to tap it. There are much better places in those woods for such a thing, if one were willing to brave those trees. They are not predisposed to meddling."
"The Coin, Mr. Waite??" Miss Pau asks.
The she-wolf was in them too, and other things. Yotee sticks his mouth down by the spring and starts lapping up water. Hello spring, I'm just going to take a little bit, I'm thirsty.
"Its been missing, or at least no mention is made of it, since the Necromancer was killed, ma'am." Randall pauses, and adds "One of the artifacts that are mentioned, now and again, in accounts I have found of the previous Games."
The spring doesn't seem to mind Yotee drinking from it. At least not since he asked nicely.
"St. John has been in those woods?" Miss Pau sits on the ground beside the stream fed by the spring, and rests her head against her hand. "Mmmm. I did not think the woods would have liked one such as her." She toys with the end of her braid.
For his part, the old dog lies down in a nice, soft pile of fallen leaves and rests his head on his paws. He watches as the humans talk.
"I don't think the woods think much of me, either. Have you talked to that stag?" Randall kicks idlely at the latest pile, then glances up to see how much daylight is left.
Yotee finishes drinking and stares at the end of Miss Pau's braid. Very clearly, he would like to toy with it as well, but he passes up the opportunity to give it a yank. The spring might not appreciate it. I smelt her on a tree, not too far inside. I'm not sure where she came from. He doesn't volunteer to try and find out either.
By now, it's nearly sundown, with the clouds on the western horizon reflecting red and orange. The promised rain hasn't yet materialized, despite a few false starts over the last few hours. "I?" Miss Pau shakes her head. "I've not seen the stag yet. Lei does not like those woods, she says they are too quiet for her. Perhaps it's past time I looked in upon them."
I haven't seen him since. Yotee answers, then adds. The forest doesn't like a lot of folks.
"That doesn't surprise me." Randall says, with a short chuckle, "I suspect 'curmudgeon' would be the term I'd use, for their attitude." A few swift kicks to the pile spreads rocks and other bits into the surrounding trees. "Getting toward dark, I think we'd best get back home."
Yotee concentrates, which makes him look a little ill. He paws at one ear with a hindleg. There's a place in there with secrets, and that tree, and flowers that need rescuing.
"Flowers that need rescuing?" Miss Pau stands. "There is never any shortage of questions where you go, Yotee." She reaches out to run her hand down Mix's back. "Thank you for showing us these, Mix," she tells him. "You are a good friend."
Mix raises his head and chuffs gently at the woman.
"Did you want to go home with me, or stay with Yotee and Mr. Waite, Mix?" the woman asks. "I promise you, you need not go homeless."
"I'd take her up on that offer, Mix, I can't promise anything past the end of this month." Randall stares off into the distance. "If that."
Mix looks squarely at Randall for a few moments now, then growl-barks softly at the man, almost seeming to smile. In the end, he turns his gaze back to Miss Pau and shakes his head, sending his ears flapping.
Miss Pau's hand pauses on the back of the dog's neck, then resumes, scratching behind his ear. "It is very real for you," she says to Randall, quietly. "We should all remember that." She looks thoughtfully at the old forest again. "Time grows short. I shall visit it tomorrow, and see if I may find the stag or the wolf."
I'd go for the stag myself. Yotee comments.
"The stag is saner," she says, "but not necessarily less dangerous for that."
"Best be real, or it would be nice if someone would kindly tell me otherwise." Randall replies, wryly. "Give me a few days, to see if I can spot St. John's lair, and I'd recommend asking these two to escort you to the stag. Don't go alone."
The Chinese woman bends to give Mix a hug around his neck. "Come, my friend. Let's get you home and fed. You can meet my friend Lei -- I hope you will like each other!"
Pau considers Mr. Waite's suggestion, then nods. "I have preparations of my own; if you think you may find her by other means, I am not opposed to putting off the moment. I will not drag Mix into this, however. He's been through enough."
Yotee hops up and circles Randall a few times. He noses Mix goodbye, See you soon. Eat well and sleep in the sun.
"Well, then, good travels. I'll be on my way, I've eggs to gather, and a fish to dispose of - with prejudice." Randall bows slightly, and heads homeward.
Mix shakes free of the woman's hands for a few moments to go over and nose the coyote in a friendly way. He chuffs to Yotee, then goes back to follow Miss Pau home.
Yotee makes a motion to follow Randall, then doesn't. Instead he sits by the spring, listening to the sounds as the man goes one way, and the old dog and Miss Pau go another. When those fade, he listens to the other sounds.