I’m trying something new this month and sharing a longer story chapter by chapter! Let me know what you think.
Chapter One
Ana triumphantly punched ‘Enter’ on her computer, her printer humming to life as the last invoice printed. Drumming her blood-red fingernails on her hotel room desk, she scanned the paper’s contents for missed errors.
——- Invoice ——-
Mayfield’s Expedition Services ~ Serving those in need since 2008
October 28, 2020 – Removal of 1 ghoul from Hadrian’s Rest, CA
$10,481.13
Nodding in satisfaction, she signed the bottom and stuffed the invoice into an already addressed envelope. Ana turned with a huff as a knock sounded at the door, and she threw the envelope into an already overflowing pile of stuffed envelopes as her business partner strolled in.
“Hello Mason,” Ana greeted as he stopped near the dismal coffee bar. She noticed how strands of his dirty blonde hair mutinously fell from his bun and his black-rimmed glasses kept sliding ever so slightly too far down his nose.
With an exasperated smile he said, “Ana Mayfield, we are here on vacation, could you leave the paperwork until we get back?”
Ana raised her eyebrows, her lips pursed into a smirk as she freed her long dark locks from their elastic band. “As my business partner, you know if we don’t send invoices, we don’t get paid. And our poor associate,” Ana gestured to Eddette’s wife Pauline Gifford as she walked in, “won’t get paid.”
Pauline grimaced, running a hand through her pixie cut, pinching bits of blue hair between her fingers. “Yes and your poor associate won’t be able to get her hair done,” she winked. “Come on, we’ve traveled half-way across the country to see the Night Market, and I don’t want to miss out on a single thing! We haven’t missed a night yet, and I’d like to keep the streak going. I cannot believe we’re already halfway through the festival. Time certainly flies!”
Chuckling, Ana nodded. “Okay, let me just change and I’ll meet you downstairs. What have you heard of the excavation today?”
The couple looked at each other. Pauline gave Mason a little head nod and he said, “The townsfolk of Egarsville found Lord Gillesbury early this morning. He was in a room 24 feet beneath the town, still held in the contraption they caught him in some 563 years ago. He is suspended from the ceiling of the room, arms bound behind his back, legs bound at the ankles, gagged, and whole body balancing in this metal cage. From what I’ve gathered, the townsfolk think he’s dead, but no one has had the nerve to return down to release him.”
Pauline shook her head and added, “Four months they’ve been at this. And they’ve finally found him. I’ve warned them, time and time again, to remember the legends. They say Lord Gillesbury was fearsome and had the appetite of twenty men. The most accurate of records say he is close to 800 years old, and has killed tens of thousands of people. The ones that buried him hauled stone to dump on that grave. The original accounts say they dumped a harvest’s worth of garlic to keep him imprisoned.” She turned appealingly to Ana and Mason. “I think we should go down there and kill him. Properly. Before someone sets him loose.”
Ana frowned and shook her head. “No. When the time comes, we will leave them to their fate. When they asked me what I thought of their plan, I told them they were fools. I told them not to go searching. And if they ask me to fix their problem, after ignoring my counsel, I am going to remind them that I am on vacation.”
“We looked into their claims right? About the werewolves?” Mason asked thoughtfully.
She nodded. “Yes, we looked into their complaints regarding the threat of werewolves in the area. Egarsville does have them. We’ve monitored them for the better part of a year, and there have been no reports of maulings, ravagings, or otherwise disappeared individuals or animals that fit the claims. Some of the townsfolk appear to have developed a case of xenophobia for those they don’t think are like themselves. Our business has refused to help them harm innocent creatures.”
Pauline let out a bitter laugh. “In trying to control a known “problem”, they seek to release an unknown one.”
Ana shrugged. “And when they realize they cannot handle it, and they call, we will very generously offer to fix it at triple our normal rate. Okay, enough of this,” she said, standing up, “I’m going to change, and we are getting to the Night Market. Carry enough gear to protect yourself, if needed, and keep a ‘go bag’ in the car. We’ll drive tonight just in case someone does something foolish.”
Picking up the stack of letters, Mason tapped them on the desk. “We’ll meet you downstairs, and drop these off in the mail pick up. It’s doubtful the townsfolk would tinker with releasing Lord Gillesbury with so many tourists around, I wouldn’t worry.”
“Do I ever?”
Fifteen minutes later Mason pulled the black Honda CRV onto a side street, and they were getting out. Ana waved to Mason and Pauline as they went off to the latest main event – a group of adept cloggers bouncing to a Dutch jig. She then loosened her shoulders and slunk into a side alley, breathing a sigh of contentment. Egarsville, being a tiny Dutch village nestled deep between rolling hills, looked like it belonged in a cookie cutter magazine: cobblestone paths, little gingerbread-style buildings, and quaint bakeries dotting the square.
But what she loved was the network of covered alleys: looking up at the sky and seeing wooden beams with translucent fabrics hanging between them, and the stars winking at her from a distance through the gauzy barriers. The alleys were packed to the gills with vendors; painters, records sellers, fabric merchants, wood workers, and spice collectors were some of the many she had espied. The greatest knowledge, however, was that Ana knew if she delved deeper into the corners of the market, she could find more unique things. Things like Percy Parkins, an old man by all appearances, but he was so much more. He was a trained apothecary, a man steeped in myth, a master at mixing locator draughts, healing potions, and lucky liquids. He’d even mix you a love potion if you asked, but Ana never had.
She’d spoken to him every night. Loved chatting with him about the world – not the one with malls and concerts, but the older, magical world that lived hidden within. He had introduced her to the leprechauns looking for someone to find their pot of gold, a group of land bound sirens that had started a girl-band, a woman who turns into a large swimming dinosaur once a month (she introduced herself as Vanessa), and the man who claimed to have met Medusa and lived. The Night Market in Egarsville had always been special, a gathering place for those who appreciate the others, the legends.So tonight, like every other night, Ana contented herself with heading towards Percy, allowing the heartbeat of the market pulse through her ears and into her chest. She passed by unknowing tourists as she threaded her way through the alleys, nodding to peers in her field, and waving at a few acquaintances, and then, in no time at all, she was there.
Ana shouldered past a group of Americans, and sidled into Percy’s booth. His sign read ‘Artwork through the Ages’. It contained depictions of Hercules fighting the Nemean Lion, the Hydra, Medusa in english garb, circa 1760s, and the Ribbajack, sniffing the toes of a child from the foot of the bed. Percy cracked a smile from a little desk in the corner. When he smiled, a hundred little laugh lines creased his face, and he opened his arms toward her. “Ana, my darling. It is night five of the Night Market, and I’m happy you’ve come to see me.”
She hugged him warmly, “Who might we see tonight, Percy? What are your plans for me this evening?”
He chortled and shook his head. “We won’t be seeing who we expected to see, and we will see that which we hadn’t expected.” She raised an eyebrow. “But for now, Ana, sit down and let me tell you a story, and you can help me mix these healing potions.”
Settling down in the chair, perplexed, Ana pulled the ingredients close to her. Percy’s aged voice filled the tent, telling the story of Red Riding Hood and the Wolf. When he finished about an hour later, he hmphed, and said “But that story wasn’t quite true.”
She laughed and poured some boiling water over the herbs she hunched over. There was a young couple, Spanish by the sounds of it, speaking excitedly over a picture of the Baba Yaga on one side, and a well-dressed man, maybe slightly older than herself, looking at a picture of Poseidon brandishing his trident. He looked familiar. He was dressed differently, but she recognized that he had visited the tent each night this week. “Well Percy, rarely are the stories one hundred percent true. There’s always something.”
He swirled the herbs around as they absorbed much of the water, and started to form a paste. “The wolf, of course, was a werewolf. And Red Riding Hood. Well she, I think, should have been his mate.”
Raising an eyebrow, she said, “I think something may have gone wrong there.”
Percy nodded, pouring the contents of the bowl into three vials. “I think so too. But alas, stories do not always have happy endings. I am not sure this one will, you will need these, child.” Stoppering the vials, he handed all three to Ana. It was then she heard it. First one scream, and then another, and another.
Ana stood, pocketed the vials, removed a gun from her coat and began counting bullets. Then she swore, “Stupid fools, they should’ve waited. Come on Percy, I’ve got a car not far from here.”
“That won’t help,” a voice said at her elbow, “I need you to come with me.” Instinctively Ana launched that elbow into the person’s rib cage, training her gun on his face as she turned. It was the man that had been looking at the Poseidon painting. Shaking her head, Ana said, “I’m not going anywhere without Percy, and who the hell are you?”
“It’s okay Ana.” Percy creaked, stiffly moving between the two of them. The screams were coming from everywhere now and people formed panicked walls running towards exits. “I’ll be fine within these walls.” he patted his tent. “But you are not safe. I would suggest you go with Dennis.”
She cocked her gun and lifted her chin, “Why do I need to go with you, Dennis?”
He was folded over, clutching his gut and panting. “Because you’ll save hundreds of lives if you do. I can get you away.”
She eyed him and lowered her gun. “Not sure what you think is happening. But I would like to leave. Don’t think I need you to do that though.” She looked at Percy. “You realize you are in a tent, right?”
He clicked impatiently and started to pull her by the arm towards the exit, gripping Dennis with the other. “You’ve got a smart head girl when you aren’t being obstinate. I can take care of myself. Take Dennis with you, as a favor to me. You two have much to discuss.” He semi-pushed, semi-released the two into the moving throng of people. Ana frowned, and offered a quick wave to the seller as he unlatched the flap at the front of his tent, and closed it. Beautiful runes flashed across the tent before fading into the fabric.
“Goodbye Percy Parkins.” She whispered.