Phillips Harbour
Sunday, October 25. Morning.
Shaft wakes refreshed the next day, after a good night's sleep. Caliban got in too late for them to do anything else that night, and he takes longer to rouse -- all those long nights skulking about to talk to Companions are taking their toll on him. He needs more naps during the day.
Mumbling to himself and rubbing sleep from his eyes, the monkey goes about the galley preparing a simple breakfast with fried bread and bacon, and some apples to cut the grease.
"Ah, how was your hunt last night, Caliban?" Shaft queries, once he returns to the cabin from shaving. "Any luck?"
Caliban waggles one hand a little, as if to suggest mixed results, the other holding the frying pan. He's added a little cheese and herbs so the fried braed is smelling quite savory.
Herbert sets the small table, starts preparing the tea. "Did you find Lei?" he asks.
This brings a nod, as the monkey sets the frying pan down to cool and extinguishes the stove. He begins chopping the apples into crunchy slices, mixing them with slices of cheese.
"Well, that's good!" Herbert says cheerfully. "Is she in good health?"
Another nod, but Caliban doesn't seem all that happy this morning. He sets out the tray of apple and cheese slices, white and orange mixed in a bright contrast, and a plate with the slices of fried bread.
The bacon simmers on the platter with the fried bread. The monkey snags a piece to go with a mouthful of fried bread.
"Is there something wrong with Lei's situation?" Shaft asks next, noting the ape's melancholy mood.
Caliban waggles his hand again. He points at himself and his master, then toward the galley door and mimes closing it. Then he makes a winged shape with his hands, and mimes opening the door.
"Well, yes, we're no opposite sides," Herbert says, then looks thoughtful. "Was Lei blaming us for what happened?"
A waggle, and the ape raises an eyebrow, or perhaps an eyeridge. He points to himself, then makes the hand-flapping gesture of talking, then the winged form, and pantomimes closing the door. Then the winged form, a reversed talking gesture, and the opening gesture.
"You were arguing about it?" Shaft asks.
The ape grimaces. He pinches two fingers together in a gesture that suggests, 'maybe just a little'.
"Well, I suppose.. hmm," Herbert says, as he pours the tea. "Who started it?" he then asks.
Caliban gives his master a distinct sideways look, and just digs into the food, by way of reply.
"Mmm-hmmm, I see," Shaft notes, and starts eating as well. Between bites, he asks, "I don't suppose Lei mentioned any other Openers we haven't discovered yet?"
The monkey shakes his head annoyedly.
"Was she even glad to know that Pau was out of jail?" Herbert asks.
"Ook," Caliban says with a nod. He indicates the winged form, then points to hmiself and his master, then bows in a Chinese style, hands clasped together.
"Ah, so she was thankful?" Herbert asks.
A nod, but it's not a very strong nod.
"But not very happy about Closers being the ones to help her?" the man asks, before nibbling on his bread.
The ape uses a stick of fried bread to trace out a stick figure with a triangle for the legs in the grease left in the platter. He curls up and pretends to be sick, then stands up and looks down on the 'sick person', hands on hips sternly.
"She was upset that Pau used deception by pretending to be sick?" Herbert asks, frowning. He'd thought it was a clever ruse..
The ape shakes his head.
"Is that 'no, she didn't like it'?" Herbert asks for clarification, wishing Bernice were here to translate.
Caliban tries illustrating the situation with bread. He breaks up one piece of bread into three long rectangles, then puts them on one side of the emptying platter. He uses a small crumb to represent Miss Pau. Then he points to himself and his master, and moves the crumb over. He pantomimes the winged form and smiles. But then he moves one of the long rectangles over to accompany the crumb. Winged form, frown.
"So Lei was happy when when they thought we were Openers, but when it came out that we weren't, Pau started associating with.. someone else that made Lei uneasy?" Herbert guesses.
The ape shakes his head. He moves the three long pieces of bread and the crumb back into place. Pointing at the long pieces of bread, he stands up ramrod-straight and points at an imaginary someone, then pantomimes angrily asking, or perhaps saying, things. Then he points to the boss, and mimes taking a picture. After this, he moves the crumb, but also one of the long bread pieces.
"Oh.. the one left to watch over her," Herbert says. "Still, one man is better than three. He glances at the wall clock, and says, "We should get ready to leave as well, if we are going to meet Miss Townes."
The ape nods, relieved that his master seems to have gotten the, well, picture. He munches on some of the apple to clear his palate.
Caliban and Herbert arrive at the Sunday morning church service in a timely fashion. They meet Miss Townes there, of course, and at Mrs. Greene's invitation Englishman and chimp sit with Miss Townes and the Greenes for the service. Mrs. Greene is gregarious to the point of babbling, and appears quite taken with Caliban and his "quaint costume" and manners.
Miss Pau is also there, on the far side of Dr. Greene, with Rev Locke bracketing her.
During the service, Rev. Milton introduces Rev. Locke and Rev. Woodrome to the parish, and Rev. Locke leaves the pews to address the congregation. He speaks at length and with considerable passion on the subject of evil, the devil, and witchcraft. He presents the evidence of the devil's work in Phillip's Harbour: the tattooed corpse that washed up in the harbour, the mysterious "kidnapping" of Rev. Hale, the corpse stolen from the cemetary, the attack on Mr. Shaft's balloon by a beast leaving impossibly large footprints, and culminating in the unnaturally enduring fire that killed Mrs. Everchild.
"These are clear signs that your town is under siege by the Devil, my friends. We have come to investigate these matters, to root out the source of these evils, and to put a stop to it. I tell you these things not to alarm you, but to put you on your guard. Be wary of anything that seems out of the ordinary or suspicious! We ask your cooperation and assistance, and welcome any information you might have. Rest assured, my associates and I will reach no hasty conclusions, nor will we countenance the persecution of innocents. We are not 17th century witchhunters, seeking to burn people at the stake on rumor alone. We work within the law, not outside it, as your Sheriff Ponds will attest. Our only desire is to end this scourge that threatens your once-peaceful home." Rev. Locke bows his head. "By the grace of God, we will succeed. Amen."
After finishing, the reverend asks the congregation if anyone has questions for them.
The ape has been quiet all sermon long, behaving for the sake of amity with the Reverends. In fact, he's been lightly drowsing, just managing not to snore, so he's slumped against his master's side.
Herbert fidgets on the pew. He does have a question to ask, but doesn't really want to draw attention. Mustering some courage he raises a hand and says, "I have a question, Reverend."
It's not unusual for Bernice to be quiet, but she does seem a tade paler than usual, and her fierce wish to go unnoticed only makes it worse. At the offer to take questions, her grip on a hymn book tightens, but she doesn't say anything, looking almost relieved when Herbert speaks.
Caliban stirs a little, blinking, then sits up straight as he realizes eyes are on his master. He plasters a stiff smile on, close-lipped.
"Yes, Mr. Shaft?" Rev. Locke directs a neutral look in his direction.
Shaft clears his throat nervously, then asks, "When we've spoken before, you seemed to speak of such things with a tone of personal experience. Have you dealt with these sorts of happenings before?"
"Of course," Rev. Locke replies. "This is my calling, as it is Rev. Woodrome's. We have been doing this work for nearly twenty years. In that time, we have encountered more frauds and false accusations than true evil. But I assure you, we have met with more than our share of devil-worshippers and practitioners of black magic. Rev. Hale requested our aid based on our experience. I have rarely seen such a clear case of supernatural intervention as is apparent in Phillips Harbour."
This last statement garners a few new gasps from the congregation. As a whole, most of them seem somewhat less anxious after Locke's speech than before it. There has been a palpable tension in the air all morning, and more than the usual amount of whispering and nervous glances. Having it all laid out for them openly seems to have dissipated a little of the tension, rather than heightening it. A sense of "Well, now we know what we're dealing with" fills the church ... and perhaps an accompanying resolve to deal with it.
Hesitantly, one of Bernice's hands rise. It's midway up, like she's thinking of snatching it back down at any moment.
"Miss Townes?" The reverend directs his gaze to her, looking mild enough.
The young woman first ventures, "So... black magic... exists?" She pauses, and tacks on a few more questions. "If I may, sirs, what leads do you have, and what will you be doing about this?"
"Yes, Miss Townes. Black magic is very real, and the danger it poses cannot be overestimated," Rev. Locke replies. "We are investigating certain signs present at the site of the fire, including the prints of the Beast that has stalked this town. We will be questioning those whose behavior has been unusual and suspicious, though I will stress again that only those with something to hide need fear. We will not act on rumor and suspicion without proof."
The chimpanzee continues to sit up straight, but glances around at the congregation to see if anyone, ahem, starts behaving in an unusual and suspicious way.
Shaft raises his hand again, and asks, "What sort of proof is needed?"
The Mikkelsens have a worried look about them. Rae is twining her finers together, looking as if she's considering asking something but unwilling to do so. Gustav is glowering as usual.
"Physical evidence of witchcraft or devil worship -- objects and fetishes and the like. Personal testimony -- many witches will recant if given the opportunity to atone. Concrete signs of possession or transformation. If you see a wolf the size of a bear, Mr. Shaft, you need not fear that you are leaping to the wrong conclusion in thinking it the devil's work." A ripple of laughter goes through the congregation.
The locals, by and large, look normal if more wary than the first time Caliban came to the church.
Caliban settles on 'look nonchalant' as his demeanor for the questions-asking period.
"Could you give some examples of.. err.. signs of possession?" the Englishman asks next.
"Speaking with the devil's voice, possessing supernatural strength, engaging in unexpected hehaviors that appear irrational and are criminal, a fear of holy relics, places, or prayer. Sustaining harm from same. The devil's work can be subtle indeed, Mr. Shaft -- make no mistake here. But the sort Rev. Woodrome and I have come to attend to is quite blatant," Locke answers.
Some of the other parishoners have questions for the reverend, like 'what should we do?' and 'would it be safer to leave?' and the like. Locke answers these in much the same pragmatic, calm manner. If he's trying to create hysteria, he's not doing nearly as good a job of it as he might.
Bernice remains quiet now. Though she aches to know what the hunters ultimately do with those that are 'convicted', she decides there isn't much point in asking if she doesn't intend to be put in the position. The pragmatic manner intrigues her, even encourages her in a way.
Once the last of the questions are answered, Locke resumes his seat to let Milton finish the service. After the church service, when the parishoners congregate in little groups to chat and exchange farewells, several locals approach Woodrome and Locke with questions they hadn't wanted to voice before the whole congregation.
Miss Townes and Mr. Shaft approach the Rev. Hale, who sat near the front of the church through the service. The reverend greets them with a nod, his grim expression lightening a bit. "Good morning, my friends. Perhaps we might go somewhere more comfortable to talk -- Mr. Shaft's houseboat?"
"Ah, a fine day to take in the sea air, indeed," Herbert agrees.
Miss Townes nods agreeably. "I think a draught of sea air would be good for the constitution. Shall we?""
The monkey has been playing up his 'silly monkey companion' act for the children. He tips his fez to some of the church kids and joins his master.
Back at the houseboat, Rev. Hale exhales slowly. "I keep reminding myself this is better than the last Game, but somehow it's not helping. What possessed you to intervene on Miss Pau's behalf, Mr. Shaft?"
"To prevent the possible exposure of the Game," Shaft replies. "Your colleagues are not Players, after all. Did you truly invite them here?"
The doctor listens for the time being, gaze going back and forth between the men.
The monkey prepares tea and cookies, looking a little worried.
"I did. At the time, it seemed preferable to the alternatives," Hale says. "Well, I understand your concern, but I should rather their concern was focused on an Opener than ... unfocused, as it is now."
Hale asks, "What do you plan to do next? Have any of you attempted to divine the location of the portal yet?"
"The Beast is dead," Herbert points out, taking a cookie when Caliban offers. "Can't you let them find her camp and deduce that for themselves?"
At this, Bernice shrugs helplessly. "I wouldn't know where to begin. I was hoping either of you two would have a better idea. A month or so ago, I had no inkling of the Game, and even know I'm only dimly aware of its rules. Will Islington still be able to help the Openers at this Banefire... thing?"
Caliban shakes his head, looking over to Miss Townes. "Ook, eek eek ook," he says.
"They'll find her camp, do not fear. But they'd need to find her body to be convinced she was dead ... and even then, they are tenacious. These men are not fools. They know magic is afoot in this place, and they only believe in one kind of magic: black," Hale says.
Bernice frowns worriedly. "Would they be able to tell anything from St. John's body? Just how much do they know?"
"They may notice that she was killed in a ritualistic manner," Shaft points out.
"I understand it would be unwise for Islington to particpate in the Closing. Companions with Players, and Players without Companions, do not survive the Banefire. Regardless of which side wins ... ah, deuce it, that's right. Her body reverted to human. No, there's no way to convince them it's dead. Time would, but we do not have that kind of time." Hale's mouth twists in disapproval. "I had Prayer working on the divination yesterday, but he doesn't think his result is accurate. He believes we're missing a Player. Perhaps the Frenchman isn't gone after all."
"More likely there are Openers we are not aware of at all," Herbert suggests. "Pau might know, if we could talk to her alone."
"Also a possibility. And she would tell you, if there were?" Hale looks skeptical.
"Ook, eek eek ook," the ape suggests, joining his hands and flapping them in a wing-like manner.
Townes shakes her head. "I.. I'm sure Girard hasn't returned. If not for his safety and that of Horus', then..." She trails off awkwardly, then clasps her hands together. "I'm sure he's bowed out." She looks at the chimp, puzzled.
"Or her Companion might," Shaft says. "We've shared information in the past. She was the one who told me about St. John in the first place."
"The timing of his departure is tricky, too. If he left after midnight on the 15th, he'd need to be included; otherwise, not," Hale says, then nods to Shaft with a look of grudging respect for Pau. "That was good of her."
Shaft clears his throat, and says, "I must admit there was some.. miscommunication that led her to believe I was a fellow Opener, and vice-versa. Still, I consider her a friend, and had hoped to get her to withdraw with the news that St. John and Girard were gone."
Bernice puts a finger to her lips. "Mm. When we first truly spoke about the game, he brought up the Death of the Moon to me, so I think he must have left after the 15th. What constitutes retiring from the Game, according to the rules? Is there a formal process, or does one simply leave the area?"
"Leaving the area of the Game," Hale answers.
The ape scratches behind an ear, then settles into a chair for some tea and biscuits, heavy on the biscuits.
"I had hoped to compute likely locations from the data we have once Caliban was feeling better," Shaft says. "That at least could give us several likely spots to investigate and narrow down. I'm not certain Pau knew the location of St. John, so would be in the same situation as we are and willing to share information."
The young woman mulls this over. "Now that I think back on it, he came on the night of the.. uh, death of the moon. But before he retired, he gave me his books and artifacts, and he went with me to retrieve a feather that Mrs. Everchild had used in one of her stone piles. Whether he left before midnight would depend on how big the Game area is, I suppose."
"Ook, eek ook," points out Caliban.
Hale raises an eyebrow at Shaft. "Can your machine really do that? I understood that the only way to arrive at the correct location was to know the sleeping places and identities of all the Players."
"Well, it has... unique knowledge of the local area, which helps," Shaft says. "It can therefore eliminate some false locations. The more possible sites it calculates, the better able it is to determine how many Players may be missing from the equation, if not their locations."
Bernice looks utterly lost.
"Ook!" asserts Caliban.
Hale looks skeptical, but doesn't argue. "I am intrigued to see your results. In the meantime, since you do not wish to distract the witchhunters with an actual witch, do you have any other suggestions as to how we might keep them occupied?"
"Send them into the woods after the Beast," Shaft suggests. "If they have interviewed the Mikkelsens already, the brother may have mentioned seeing a strange woman out there."
Bernice shifts uncomfortably. "Please keep with the bear-sized wolf. I'm a strange woman out in the woods."
"Ah, but you are not the one shown in the map Gustav gave us," Herbert notes.
"Did you bury her body?" Hale asks. "I'm afraid that while having them find a dead woman's body probably won't get them to the correct conclusion that the Beast is dead, having them find a buried body definitely won't.
The monkey ponders, then goes into a side room. In short order he returns with the old plaster cast that Mr. Shaft had made from the Beast's pawprints some time ago. He holds it up and makes ooking noises.
"Use the casts to make some false tracks?" Herbert guesses.
The chimpanzee nods, grinning.
Shaft looks thoughtful, then asks Bernice, "Can the woods.. confuse people? Make them go in circles or get temporarily lost?"
The doctor nods. "The Still Forest could. It's been defending itself for years against human incursion. The younger woods don't have that kind of identity, though."
"So if we use the tracks to lead them into the Still Forest, we could keep them out of trouble for a time, perhaps," Shaft suggests. "I'm wary of powering up my machine if these men have any way of truly sensing the supernatural."
"More to the point, would it do so on our behalf? And would it know when to stop? These are good men, if misguided. I do not wish to see them come to harm," Hale says.
The lady looks guarded. "The Forest brings no harm to those who would do it no harm. Honestly, my concern is more protecting the forest from them. I vowed to bring no danger to the woods."
The chimpanzee ooks thoughtfully, circling a finger around in tighter and tigther circles until it ends at the center.
Hale looks as though the idea that they might present a risk to the woods had never occurred to him. Or maybe it hadn't occured to him to care what happened to the trees. "I suppose that, were they convinced the forest were possessed by some malevolent spirit, they might see it burned or chopped down in response."
"Hmm, then maybe we shouldn't risk it," Shaft says. "We can use the tracks to lead them to mundane obstacles, while keeping them away from the Hill or other sensitive areas."
Bernice folds her arms over her chest. "And I won't abide by that." She pauses, then seems to consider what Caliban said. "But I suppose being simply inconvenienced for a while might seem harmless enough. I'm not sure I feel comfortable asking the Still Forest for this, though. They're very reluctant to interfere with the Game or meddle in human affairs, they want no part of it. I had to point out what a direct threat St. John was before they'd turn her out."
"I wish we had Yotee as an ally," the Englishman mutters. "He could lead them on a goose chase to end all goose chases if he were alive."
The chimpanzee wrinkles his nose. "Ook eek."
"I'm afraid I have no better ideas." Hale spreads his hands in a helpless gesture.
Shaft still seems to be lost in thought after his utterance. "A ghost. A ghost could keep them occupied, couldn't it?" he wonders out loud.
Hale blinks. "Of course. Can you fabricate one?"
The monkey blinks. "Ook?"
"No, but I might be able to get one to cooperate," Shaft says. "Maybe we can get Yotee's help after all."