Eric Butler's Blog, page 30

The Shadow Within hits 20 and other bits

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In case you missed it, I've written a couple of horror novels. My first one, The Shadow Within, has hit 20 reviews with an average of 4.8 stars. Pretty exciting! Reviews are hard to come by as many people only think of leaving reviews when things go bad, but they are so very important to the independent writer. A good review can help a random visitor to my Amazon page to take that leap and give my book or short story a try. A lot of good reviews help make it a no-brainer if they like the genre.

Heck, even negative reviews can help when they're like the one The Pope Lick Massacre got - the reviewer was upset with the violence and depravity. Although I implore you if you find real issues within a person's writing. reach out to them and let them know what you found. Big book companies have things slip by all the time, and they have several pairs of eyes looking for issues. Many times an independent writer is doing everything themselves, and only when they start to gain some footing can they bring in others to help with the process. The writer will appreciate you taking the time to let them know...especially with typos and the like.

That being said I wanted to share some reviews and remind you if you've read any of my books on Amazon, please leave a review. If you haven't read one, I hope I can get you interested enough to try one...

Find it here .[image error]


Find it here .

I also have two shorter works available on Kindle. They are free to read with Kindle Unlimited. These are horror westerns with a ton of action.

These follow Civil War Veteran, Irving Fontaine as he travels across the American West after the Battle between the States ends. While trying to lose himself in the wild and undiscovered parts of America, he stumbles across monsters and villains.

Skin Walkers To Stare Death In the Eyes Part One

Finally, I wanted to throw out a non-horror suggestion. I am a big fan of Victorian England...as you may have realized while reading my Ephraim Godwin Chronicles Serial on this very website! If not click on the Serial tab and check out the full series of adventures there or the short story on Zona Whitlock here.

However, what I want to share with you today is the movie Enola Holmes on Netflix. It is based on a book series that focuses on Sherlock Holmes's younger sister. It is a new series of books, starting in the mid-2000s- and this movie introduces you to the character and her world.

It Stars Millie Bobby Brown, Sam Claflin, with Henry Cavill and Helena Bonham-Carter and showcases fun and whimsy, something that is missing from the more serious Sherlock works. I found the character and story fun and full of energy. The cast does a great job of capturing the idea of a Sherlock Holmes mystery but showing it through the eyes of a unique and fresh character. I hope they have another one out soon.

https://youtu.be/1d0Zf9sXlHk

The Ephraim Godwin Chronicles - The Early Years: The Awakening Part 4

This story takes place 5 years before the first Ephraim Godwin Chronicle Serial. It will be longer than a simple stand alone story so I will be releasing parts of the tale every Wednesday. Part 4 contains Chapters 7 & 8.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ephraim sat at the kitchen table in Vicar's cottage. His brother left him to handle pressing business at the church. Tanner left to gathers some supplies he said they would need, and so Ephraim took a much-needed break to think. He hadn't known exactly what to expect when Henry sent for him. He assumed it was a misguided attempted to help him, maybe even talk him out of continuing the search for his wife and son.

Their father still refused to acknowledge him since he left to join the Army, and Ephraim knew that would stop their oldest brother from reaching out. The old man must be mortified that his middle child is out there making a fool of himself. Ephraim shook his head as his hands balled into fists. He resisted the urge to slam them on the table. No...a fool of the family name. That would be the thing to drive Thomas Godwin to action.

"I will need to verify with my dear brother," he said, hoping the act of speaking would relieve some tension.

"Pardon?" Ms. Morris asked as she slipped into the room.

Ephraim stood, offering a slight bow of his head in greeting and motioned to the empty chair across from him. "Nothing, I was just talking to myself," he replied with a slight smile. He found acknowledging when he did such things helped put the others at ease, though on occasion it had increased their worry. With Ms. Morris, he hoped it the former.

She nodded and after hesitating a moment, slipped into the offered chair. Ephraim sat as well and wondered where Ms. Morris might take the conversation. He studied her face, spotting the beauty that once captured Mr. Morris's eye. Ephraim wondered if the years or her husband's death had aged her so. A little of both most likely. If I ever discover my family's fate, will my reaction be the same?

"Why did your brother send for you?" Ms. Morris asked, breaking into Ephraim's thoughts.

"Honestly...?" Ephraim asked hoping to use the time to gather his thoughts. He had no desire to share it all with this stranger, no matter the circumstance.

Ms. Morris released a heavy sigh. She glared at Ephraim a moment, before working to soften the anger from her face. An encouraging smile flickered across her lips as she nodded.

"Sorry, of course," he said, covering his embarrassment with a cough. "When I returned from the War my family was gone. I have been searching for them non-stop and this is his way to distract me. In my search, I have solved a few mysteries and Henry must think I have something to offer here."

Ms. Morris stared at Ephraim, the smile returning but this time reflecting the sadness in her eyes. She nodded to herself and stood, stepping to the bank of cabinets against the far wall. She opened one, moving items around until she found what she was searching for. As she turned around, Ephraim noticed a roll of paper clutched tightly in her left hand.

"The night before my Alfie died, someone slipped this under our door," Ms. Morris said, her voice barely above a whisper. She moved towards Ephraim, her steps hesitant, while indecision battled upon her face. He stood and quickly met her halfway.

She placed the paper in his outstretched hand and hurried to her seat, burying her face as tears of sorrow sprang forth. After handing her a handkerchief, Ephraim unrolled the parchment.

This is the last warning

Stop searching

Or else.

Ephraim reread the few lines and moved to sit down. This note combined with the attack made no sense. Obviously, a wolf did not pen this warning...but the wounds pointed to such a beast as the attacker. Was it all a coincidence?

"Does anyone know about this?" Ephraim asked. Ms. Morris shook her head, seemingly unable to speak. "Do you know what this is about?"

After a moment's hesitation, she shook her head again. Ephraim studied her face, noticing her red cheeks grew darker under his gaze. His mouth shut as his brother's voice called out from the front of the house. She relaxed when he asked nothing further. Now was not the time, but he would press her later on.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Thaddeus Hall sat on the floor wearing only his trousers. The cold from the stone soaked into his backside, and crawled through his legs and lower back. His teeth chattered, but he ignored them as he ignored everything when he held the skull.

The skull rested in his hands, too heavy to be held by just one. He leaned closer as if to get a better look, but in truth, he knew every inch of this treasure with his eyes closed. Instead, he leaned closer hoping its commands made it to his ears; to feel its power as it slipped off like wisps of smoke. Long ago he was told a lesser man would only observe the skull and nothing else, but Hall discovered its powers early on. Now he studied the hazy smoke rising from the skull, hypnotized by the lazy vapors as they moved closer to his face.

A low hum emitted from the skull as the smoke rolled together into two thin woven strands and slithered up his nose. Hall choked before fighting the urge to try to blow the mist from his nostrils. Instead, he held it in, growing light-headed as he refused to breathe. The hum increased, the skull vibrating in Hall's hands forcing him to tighten his grip. The edges grew dark, and he wondered if he would ever be one with the master.

Soon, a voice spoke but whether in his head or out loud Hall could never tell. A smile broke over his lips, and he released his breath, knowing he no longer had to worry the smoke might disappear. He listened carefully to the skull's instructions, nodding and smiling as the plan began to take shape.

***

Ephraim stood outside the cottage, smoking his pipe. Ms. Morris's dinner had been fantastic, and Ephraim was sure it was the first home-cooked meal he'd had since his return from the Continent. His heart ached, as his thoughts went to his wife and her wonderful cooking. He puffed on the pipe as if a locomotive but it did not distract from the ache in his chest. Although five years had passed, the sting was still fresh. His eyes watered a bit as the smoke rose up, drawing his attention to the full moon.

A lone howl pierced the quiet, and Ephraim shivered at the long, soulful cry. Tanner stepped from the shadows and glanced back towards the forest.

"Thank God I made it back," he said, a bit out of breath. "From the sounds of things, tonight is a bad night to be strolling through the trees."

Ephraim nodded in agreement, "I need you to expand on your earlier claim." Tanner stared at him, puzzlement on his face. Ephraim gave him a moment before saying, "Morris isn't the first one."

"Oh, aye that's true," Tanner said, spitting to the side. "By me count, he is the third, but the first body to be discovered."

"What do you mean three?" Henry asked as he slipped out of the cottage and joined the two men.

Ephraim glanced at his brother," You mean you didn't know?"

"Of course not, otherwise I would have sent for you earlier...although did I hear you correctly, there are no bodies?"

Tanner nodded, "That's right Vicar. Morris was the first one found but not the first one gone. Cora and Patrick disappeared two moons ago after the howls began."

"And they were?" Ephraim asked between puffs.

"They are two wool headed idiots who thought they should run-away from their duties," Henry said, sadness in his voice taking the sting away from the biting words. "They were in love, and wanted to marry but Selina...Lady Farkus order me to refuse them. Which was odd since she rarely lets me precede over anything dealing with her people."

Tanner nodded at this and produced a cigarette case from an invisible pocket. He slipped the paper between his lips and motioned for a light. Henry dug in his pockets and pulled out a box of matches. He handed it over to the colorful man.

"Thanks to ye, Vicar," he replied as he lit the cigarette. After a few long drags, he let the smoke out slowly before saying, "They were lovers, and their love would not be denied by her ladyship. They made off to the south, but the moon appeared and the howls began. We had people waiting on the other side...those lovers simply vanished."

"Still why wasn't I told?"

"Because ye weren't ready to believe, but now...well after seeing Mr. Morris...ye have no choice."

Ephraim studied his brother, grateful for the brightness the moon was providing. He witnessed the understanding blooming on his face and recognized the anger at being left out of the others' fate. But if Ephraim was right, it wouldn't have mattered. The first two were Romanis, and they took care of themselves.

Another howl issued from the dark and Ephraim shivered, wondering just who this beast might be after tonight.

© 2020 Naked Cat Press. All Rights Reserved

Monday Scramble

I'm not sure what to write about for this Monday post. Nothing specific is jumping out and I've got the energy of a fat kid on a sugar crash. So I'm going to quick hit today and share a bit of this and that...

The first real add for Disney+/Marvel's show WandaVision is out! What I most love about the Marvel movie universe is the story-lines and choice of characters. I know at first they were forced into the Avengers because of preexisting movie deals with Sony and Fox which blocked them from their most popular franchises X-Men and Spider-man (not to mention Fantastic Four), but they took it all in stride and created an incredible movie universe.

The best part at the time, and to this day, is they selected my favorite characters growing up. The stories we've been shown in Marvel's Movie Universe are based on the characters and adventures I'd been reading and re-reading for the last 30+ years. While I love Spidey and all the mutants of Marvel, it's the Avengers who own my nerdy heart.

The great thing about comics is their soap-opera-like storytelling. There is a cyclical pattern to the stories and adventures that affect our heroes. The writers, no matter who it is or when the wrote, will go back to the well and retell a familiar story with their twist. In the old days, they thought their audience was turning over every few years as they grew older. However, as the comics' stories became more sophisticated, the readers didn't leave. They simply grew older, which of course allowed for the creators to tackle more mature themes and to push the envelope a bit more.

So as a reader of Marvel Comics from the early 80s, I have seen these stories many times, told by different writers of course but always with the same centralized themes. These are the stories - the legends - that helped shape who I am today. These are the adventures that allowed me to escape and hide when the outside (real) world became too real. A place where I could depend on my heroes to be heroes and my villains to be villains - except when they finally saw the light and became heroes in their own right. A place where no matter what happened, soon it would all make sense.

And it's why no matter how many times I see them, the Marvel Movies overwhelm me with a sense of disbelief and nostalgia. It is a visual representation of a not only a special time and place in my life but of fictional "family" members coming alive from the page. And so I am as excited for the Disney shows (as they tackle some of the newer, and less familiar, stories with some of my favorite characters) as I was when I saw the first previews for Iron Man, Hulk, Thor, and Captain America.

I am a big fan of the Vision and Wanda story-line; 2 Characters not meant to be together, fighting against all odds for their love to bloom. It is a great story to watch and while it felt a bit hurried in the movie universe, it still is one of my favorite elements to the story they presented. While Wanda was initially handled with kid gloves, it didn't take the writers long to realize the vast potential her character, and powers had. She is one of the most powerful people in Marvel hands down.

https://youtu.be/j8w6j7khq3I

Sunday was Jon Bernthal's 44th birthday. He is one of my favorites and his portrayal of Punisher is one of the best casting jobs ever of a comic book character to screen. His ability to play burning intensity to complete understatement allows him to disappear into his characters. I have yet to see one of his performances that I was disappointed by. So in honor of his birthday, I am sharing one of my favorite movies starring Mr. Bernthal, Pilgrimage. Set in the 13th century, he helps a group of monks(including Spider-man's Tom Holland) move a religious relic. You can stream it on HULU.

https://youtu.be/FPDIbTvoYXk

He also has a few minutes in Peanut Butter Falcon...a movie you need to watch just because. You can stream it on Amazon Prime and HULU.

https://youtu.be/gpf0EAMKgoY

My 2nd novel The Pope Lick Massacre just got its lucky 13th review. Getting reviews is tough, and many times people who read your books will never leave a review. It's one of the greatest gifts you can give a writer, especially if you enjoyed the book and would recommend it to others. The more reviews a book gets the more others will be willing to take a chance on it.

Lucky #13

Criticism is okay also. If you have real issues with a person's book and you aren't comfortable leaving a bad review. See if you can contact them to take a few moments to let them know what you didn't like or what you feel needs to be fixed. Those notes help, not only with the work in question but future projects the writer is working on. You can always leave some criticism in a good review as well. Let them know what you liked and what you feel needs some more work.

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There are two types of people in Jefferson County: those who know the legend of the Pope Lick Monster and those who believe it. Before the night is over, Sam will have no choice but to join the believers.

Since their mother’s death, Sam’s sole focus has been taking care of her younger brother, Kenny. Now Kenny’s Scout troop is missing, having never returned from the woods around Pope Lick. Sam gathers a group of friends to search for the boys and their Scoutmaster. With each step, they get closer to discovering the scouts aren’t the only ones in the woods this night.

“The Pope Lick Massacre is a bold, brutal horror story that’ll remain in your mind long after you read it. This book is not for the faint of heart.” –Independent Book Review

You can order a copy on Amazon here .

The Ephraim Godwin Chronicles - The Early Years: The Awakening Part 3

This story takes place 5 years before the first Ephraim Godwin Chronicle Serial. It will be longer than a simple stand alone story so I will be releasing parts of the tale every Wednesday. Part 3 contains Chapters 5 & 6.

CHAPTER FIVE

Ephraim turned to find a woman walking towards them leading a brown mare. She was of average height when barefoot he guessed, but the heels on her boots added a few inches. The woman wore her long dark hair in a loose ponytail that hung over her left shoulder. Her bright colorful clothes, while simple, seemed to be well-made and from expensive materials. He glanced at his brother with a raised eyebrow.

"Ah, yes...the local tarot reader," Harry said with a snort. Ephraim glanced back towards the woman who now stood a few feet away. The horse quietly pawed at the ground.

"Hello Vicar," she said, a smirk plastered on her lips. Ephraim could feel the tension between the two, and he struggled not to openly gape at them. This close, Ephraim could see the natural beauty in the woman's dark features and slender build. Exactly the type of woman that attracts my brother's attention...well not the fortune-telling part; his head tilted as if agreeing with his thought.

"Lady Farkus," Henry said, the disdain still coloring his voice. He pointed to Ephraim and introduced his brother.

Ephraim hesitated a moment and then stepped forward to take her offered hand. Her smile grew as he brought the back of her hand to his lips. Henry must be staring daggers for her smile to be so big.

"Pleasure to meet you Lady Farkus," Ephraim said as he stepped back, heat rising to his cheeks as she studied him. Her dark eyes sparkled in the sunlight and Ephraim never felt more like a mouse before.

"Oh I'm sure that will change after our beloved Vicar bends your ear," she said as laughter slipped out.

He glanced at his brother, noticing his cheeks too were darker but Ephraim guessed from anger, and not self-consciousness. Henry was always one to let the fairer sex burrow under his skin. Ephraim wondered if his brother's issue was one of rejection, his eyes unfocused as he remembered a time his brother was forward with the opposite sex.

The quiet hovering over them brought Ephraim's attention back. I believe I've missed something.

"Please forgive me, Lady Farkus," Ephraim said with a sad smile, "I'm still a little shaken from Mr. Morris's condition."

"Really?" she asked with open astonishment. "I would have presumed a soldier in the Crimean War to witness much worse."

Ephraim's head snapped to the side, his eyes glued to his brother who offered nothing more than a shrug.

"Oh, the Vicar didn't tell me... I read it in the cards," she said, her laughter once more filling the air.

"Enough of that," Henry growled as he stepped closer. "I've told you before and I'll probably tell you until one of us is in the ground...those cards tell you nothing."

Lady Farkus offered him a look of pity before holding out the mare's reins, "I brought this for the soldier to get around easier as he tries to investigate Mr. Morris's tragic passing. Although if you only listened to me, you could have saved so much wasted time, and quite possibly Mr. Morris."

"And how is that?" Ephraim asked as he held out his hand for the horse to catch his scent.

The mare tentatively sniffed around his palm and fingers before offering a lick. He took the reins, stepping closer to pat her on the neck. The horse offered a neigh and wicker before allowing Ephraim to lead her away from her owner. Once she settled, he did a quick search, running his hands over the horse's body and down her legs.

"Because men are too proud to recognize not everything can be controlled or even understood," she said as she turned around to walk back the way she came.

After a few steps she whistled loudly and a man on horseback appeared. He rode up to her, sliding from the saddle as the horse came to a stop. She stepped up and swung her leg over the saddle and glanced back to offer a smile; her hair shimmering in the sunlight. Ephraim's breath caught as he watched her trot away.

CHAPTER SIX

"Well there goes the parish's resident loon," Henry said, his voice lacking in humor. "Be cautious, they say she can bewitch a man if he's not careful."

Ephraim's eyes followed her as she rode away. After a moment, his attention changed to the man walking towards them. He was as tall as Ephraim but walked with a slight hitch that forced him to lean forward. While he had the broad shoulders of a man used to hard labor, his left sleeve hung loose and empty. The man flipped his cigarette to the side and stopped a few feet from Ephraim and the Vicar.

"Her Ladyship wants me to help ye," he said before hacking a bit and spitting to the side.

Ephraim studied the man, noting the long angry scars running down the left side of his face, pulling the corner of his mouth into a scowl. What hair he could grow on his face and head was short and used to hide as much of the scarring as possible. Like Lady Farkus, his clothing was bright and used colors not found in nature.

The man's dark eyes stared back, and Ephraim wondered what the man observed. Did he see a desperate man, a soldier, or possibly a grieving father? All the things Ephraim saw when he dared to glance at a mirror.

Ephraim glanced at his brother and sighed. Henry had already begun to walk away, heading to the church or his residence. Turning his attention back to the man, Ephraim nodded.

"How can you help?"

"Extra pair of eyes; people round here don't like questions, and I help make tight lips...looser," he said with a grin, making his appearance more sinister.

"Hopefully that won't be necessary," Ephraim replied, the memories of exactly how the Army obtained information from prisoners flashing through his head. He couldn't imagine such activities going over well in a small parish in England. "I'm Mr. Ephraim Godwin and I assume you've met the ass who is walking away."

The man chuckled and stretched out his right hand, "Don't know if I should offer a shake or a salute but I'm confident you'll put me in place quick enough. Stefan Tanner at ye service."

Ephraim grasped the man's hand, gauging his strength and noting the man's rough and

calloused skin. Mr. Tanner stopped just short of crushing Ephraim's hand, releasing only when the notable sound of his bones grinding filled their ears.

"Maybe next time, we'll stick with the salute," Ephraim said with a grimace. "Where did you serve?"

"All over, but I got these gifts near the end of the disaster in Afghanistan. Bastards took my arm, but left me pretty smile intact."

Ephraim nodded, understanding the venom in the man's voice. Many believed that war to be unnecessary and hastily put together, two things military men despised. To be injured in such a conflict... Ephraim sighed, happy to have escaped Alma relatively intact...physically at least.

"After meeting Lady Farkus, I suspect refusing is not an option," Ephraim said, waiting for Mr. Tanner's acknowledging nod before turning around to lead the horse after his brother. "Well then can you tell me about this curse of the wolf?"

"All I can tell ye is the curse is real, and Morris ain't the first."

The two men followed the Vicar in silence as Ephraim pondered what his brother had dragged him into.

© 2020 Naked Cat Press. All Rights Reserved

How Depp is your love?

Not gonna lie, I was a bit stumped on what to write today. My weekend was tied up with the opening of the NFL, writing some new material, and trying to figure out how to structure the first Ephraim story into a coherent novel. But I did spend an hour and a half watching a movie I hated when it came out in 2004...one I found pretty good in 2020. Add that with a couple of movies I've watched with the wife over the last couple weeks with the same actor and I figure, why not give 3 quick suggestions to fill out the Monday post.

While it's no big thing to be a fan of Johnny Depp after his run as Jack Sparrow in the Pirates Franchise, I go back to his earlier films Nightmare on Elm Street and Platoon as well as his work in 21 Jump Street on FOX. Of course, this post could be pointing to his work in Cry-Baby, Dead Man, or From Hell. I could spotlight his animation work - Rango, The Corpse Bride, or Sherlock Gnomes; or his horror work in Nightmare on Elm Street, Tusk, Sleepy Hollow, or Sweeney Todd. I might point to his crime dramas - Blow, Public Enemies, Donnie Brasco, or his takes on the Mad Hatter, Willy Wonka, or Ed Wood.

I want to focus on 4 movies that Johnny Depp stars in that deal with books-be it from or about. The first is the movie I mentioned watching this weekend and can be found on Amazon Prime.

The Secret Window is based on a Stephen King story. The premise is pretty basic; a successful writer in the midst of a painful divorce is stalked at his remote lake house by a would-be scribe who accuses him of plagiarism. While I distinctly remember leaving the theater disappointed and unimpressed, watching it 16 years later has changed my mind.

The cast is spectacular: Johnny Depp, John Turturro, Maria Bello, Timothy Hutton, and Charles S. Dutton make up the bulk of the main characters. Written and directed by David Koepp, the man behind several well received screenplays - Jurassic Park, Toy Soldiers, Stir of Echoes, Panic Room, and Angels and Demons. Here, we get a director who understands how to nudge his actors in the correct direction while allowing their talents to take over the characters. The interaction between Depp and Turturro steals the movie and allows for a natural slow-building tension that makes the movie work very well.

https://youtu.be/QboGT3v7c5A

Next up is a pet project of Depp's. The Rum Diary is a novel written by his hero Hunter S. Thompson - the mind who's work inspired his movie Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. While he was forced to wait years to get this movie made, it finally got made in 2011. While I have not read the novel, I find myself wondering if it wanders as much as the movie. While there is a straight-forward central theme in the movie, there are so many ideas sprouting off that by the end you aren't sure if you can believe anything about the story presented.

American journalist Paul Kemp takes on a freelance job in Puerto Rico for a local newspaper during the 1960s and struggles to find a balance between island culture and the expatriates who live there.

See it's all right there, but not really as this movie is more about the characters and their effect on each other than their effect on the story itself. Probably explains why it didn't do well in the theaters. However, now that you can stream in on Netflix, you can take the time needed to be enveloped by the nuances and underplayed performances of the cast. The camera work is beautiful, and the cast makes up an interesting group of characters and opinions found in the mid to late 60s.

https://youtu.be/R8KblG1S0_A

Side note - this is the movie where Depp met Amber Heard and ruined his life.

This movie is based on a popular series of comic thriller novels from the 70s. This movie focuses primarily on the first of those, Don't Point That Thing at Me. It also brings director David Koepp and Depp back together. This movie is over the top silliness with stereotypical characters and English snootiness done in a picture-perfect way. It does a very good job reflecting a 70s vibe without ever telling you when it takes place and the casting is perfect.

https://youtu.be/c_01JbPZD3g

There's just something about this movie and Depp's portrayal of the main character that hits all the right notes for me. You can find it on HULU.

Finally, we shift from silly facial hair to sinister facial hair as Johnny Depp plays a rare book dealer. He is commissioned to seek out the last 2 copies of a demon text to compare it to the one his employer has just purchased.

The movie has an otherworldly feel as Depp moves through the back alleys of exotic book dealings. It's beautifully filmed, and Depp does a great job refocusing the quirky traits his characters almost always have from silly to slightly off-putting.

Polanski the person is a dirtbag, but this is one of his best works. You can find it on Prime and HULU.

https://youtu.be/IKc1n-nIIx0

All four movies also deal with love in their own way. Secret Window looks at lost love, The Rum Diary shows us the effects of forbidden love, Mordecai revolves around the traps love can set for people, and The Ninth Gate shows us the traps of self love and obsession.

[image error]2 more reviews in for my first horror Novel, The Shadow Within. It's available on kindle and Paperback...get it here .

The Ephraim Godwin Chronicles - The Early Years: The Awakening Part 2

This story takes place 5 years before the first Ephraim Godwin Chronicle Serial. It will be longer than a simple stand alone story so I will be releasing parts of the tale every Wednesday. Part 1 contains Chapters 3 & 4.

CHAPTER THREE

Five years. The thought repeated itself in the back of his head while he marched behind his brother. Five years since his last face to face with death. Five years since staring her in the eye, and willing himself to safety. Five years since that ill-planned attack at Alum and the slaughter of his men. He didn't even have to close his eyes to see their faces staring at him...questioning him.

Ephraim failed those men, and on returning home discovered he had failed his wife and son as well. Although he still held hope to one day make that right. A hope that slipped away a little at a time as each day passed with no results. Maybe Henry was right...this distraction might be the thing to save my sanity. Or finally, chase it away.

"It's up ahead," his brother said, turning his head slightly for Ephraim to hear.

Just up ahead...a body awaited them. Ephraim stared off to the side, slowing until he stood still in the forest. Henry pulled away unaware his brother no longer followed. Taking a deep breath, Ephraim studied the surrounding woods.

The trees were familiar; oak, ash, chestnut, beech, and maple. The path they walked upon was well-worn and wide enough for two men and a woman. The rest of the forest was filled in with wildflowers, ground cover, and a mish-mash of fungi and roots. He wondered if anyone could move through them with any sense of haste.

Ephraim took a few steps from the path and squatted. Running his hands through the growth, he found it an uneven tangled mess. Standing, he brushed his hands together and turned his attention back to the path. Henry stood a ways off, studying him. An impatient look flashed over his features, and Ephraim grinned in response. Never a good thing to keep Henry waiting when he was ready to go; a lesson the Godwin family learned fairly early in Henry's development.

"Sorry," Ephraim called out, hurrying to catch up. "I needed to check something before you force me to ogle a corpse."

"Oh stop being so melodramatic."

The brothers started to walk down the path, this time Ephraim found himself next to Henry. Easier to keep an eye on me if I decide to wander away, I suppose. His grin widened, and he fought the urge to slip his arm around his brother and hug him. Five years.

***

"Bloody hell," Ephraim spat out as he stared at the mangled corpse of Mr. Morris. He'd seen worse on the battlefield but barely.

The body lay on a long wooden work table. A cut piece of cloth covered the man's genitals but the rest of his body was exposed. Deep, ragged gashes covered his torso and arms. The man's neck was sliced open and Ephraim spotted his larynx. It dangled from the wound, and Ephraim fought the sudden urge to reach out and push on the flesh.

The man's face was quite the sight. The eyes were open, and his mouth stretched in a frozen scream that Ephraim thought he might be beginning to hear. Another series of gashes traveled down the left side of the head, one visible from the temple and down to the chin.

The rest simply tore away the hair and flesh, exposing the bone and teeth of Mr. Morris.

The stench was building but Ephraim knew the body and the smell should be much worse. He glanced at his brother, noted how pale he was, and wondered how often he had gazed upon Mr. Morris.

"This is only the third time," Henry whispered as if reading Ephraim's mind. "I've had one of the groundsmen deliver ice every so often, so we could try to keep the body in decent shape..."

He trailed off as the absurdity of his words sunk in. Ephraim nodded and turned his attention back to the body. Leaning closer to get a better view of the wounds, he tried to decide what the weapon might have been. Nothing popped into his head, so he straightened up and motioned toward the door. He didn't wait to see if his brother followed him out to the fresh air.

Chapter Four

"You said an accident," Ephraim said as Henry exited the small structure housing the body. "That was no accident."

"I am inclined to agree," Henry stated after taking in huge gulps of fresh air. "The Constable had other ideas. He called it an accident and ordered the body buried. There would be no investigation and more importantly no trial."

"More importantly?"

"I think the Baron would frown on any eyes studying this area too closely."

"Ah, so that is the Constable's role in all this," Ephraim said as he stepped closer to his brother. "And just who might this Baron be?"

"Baron Thaddeus Hall," Henry said but grew quiet when a shadow passed over Ephraim's face.

So I wasn't the only one to leave after Alum. Ephraim frowned as he compared his fortune to the man responsible for the slaughter of good British soldiers. If only his superiors had listened, but they were ready for this war to be over. So ready they went with a madman's plan; a plan Ephraim barely escaped. He sold his commission after much argument and left the Army. His only wish had been to return to his family and put the nightmare behind him. Five years later, he wondered if fate had brought him back to Thaddeus Hall.

"I knew this Baron...when he was a Colonel. Yet his decisions appear as questionable now as I found them then."

Henry nodded slowly, studying Ephraim closely.

"So any idea what really happened?" Ephraim asked anxious to fill the quiet. Henry nodded but held his tongue. Ephraim opened his mouth to press his brother for an answer when a woman called out.

"It was the curse of the wolf."

© 2020 Naked Cat Press. All Rights Reserved

Visiting an old friend.

After a long exile, I finally found myself back at the movie theater today. I have to tell you it was a welcome distraction from all this nonsense. It was nice to make plans, have a set agenda, and disappear from reality if only for a few hours.

And while there aren't a lot of choices, this week Warner Brothers finally released Tenet, Christopher Nolan's next extravaganza. The man behind the great Dark Knight trilogy, Memento, Inception, and Interstellar - to name a few, is once again doing all he can to tell a fascinating and worthwhile story.

Like many of his movies, you need to pay attention to every detail because if you blink you might miss a key piece of information. Tenet has a simple premise but an extraordinary way of telling it.

"Armed with only one word, Tenet, and fighting for the survival of the entire world, a Protagonist journeys through a twilight world of international espionage on a mission that will unfold in something beyond real time."

Like all of his movies, the cast is superb and full of familiar faces. John David Washington, Blackkklansman, and Robert Patterson, The Batman & The Lighthouse among others, have a smooth chemistry that helps propel the movie in the proper direction even when the movie is moving in multiple directions at once. Michael Caine, Himesh Patel, Elizabeth Debicki, and Aaron Taylor-Johnson all play important roles in the Protagonist's attempt to piece everything together in time to save the world.

Kenneth Branagh slips back into the Russian villain role that seems to fit him as well as his Shakespearean roles did in the 90s. I don't know why it is, but Branagh seems to only want to play roles with pronounced accents. The preview for his next Agatha Christie mystery Death on the Nile came on before the film and he continues to play up the thick accent of Hercule Poirot.

While I found the film engaging and entertaining, the true experience was seeing it in the theater. A place where a movie like this is supposed to be seen. Loud explosions and huge screens drowning your senses with overloaded stimulation while trying to sneak this or that past you towards a big reveal. Nolan is the master of the big screen, and while I am excited to see this again on my television to pick out any little things that may have snuck by, this movie should be seen at a theater. Of course, to go with that is the real reason I love the movie theater so much...popcorn.

There's just something magical about the whole experience. A way to take that nostalgic trip back to your childhood, before your home entertainment center was as impressive or in some cases better than the theaters of yesteryear. Coke from the fountain, candy in the box, and freshly popped popcorn all seem better at the theater as you gorge yourself while taking in a summer blockbuster, the latest horror movie, or Disney's next big animated spectacular.

The previews were a bit sparse since the theaters are still opening at a slower pace, but they showed Wonder Woman 84, Greenland - a Gerard Butler end of the world movie, Dune, and the aforementioned Death on the Nile. All movies that need a big screen in my opinion to shine.

If you have the opportunity and have a theater taking care of their patrons in the way many restaurants and superstores are with new guidelines in cleanliness and spacing...go check out Tenet or any of the classics many of the theaters are showing as they wait for the new hits to be released. Your old friend misses you and is ready to make more movie memories.

https://youtu.be/LdOM0x0XDMo

My first novel, The Shadow Within, received its 18th review on Amazon and has an overall rating of 4.8 out of 5 stars. You can get it on Kindle and paperback at Amazon.

[image error]Find it here

The Ephraim Godwin Chronicles - The Early Years : The Awakening Part 1

This story takes place 5 years before the first Ephraim Godwin Chronicle Serial. It will be longer than a simple stand alone story so I will be releasing parts of the tale every Wednesday. Part 1 contains Chapters 1 & 2.

Chapter One1861...

The Vicar stood off to the side, his eyes studying the lone figure in the nave. Ephraim Godwin sat in the front pew, his eyes glaring at the statue of Jesus Christ hanging above the sanctuary. It was one of the Vicar's favorite, and he wondered exactly what was going through the man's head as he stared at Christ suffering on the cross. Is he comparing his torment to that of the Son of God or is he wishing to change places to finally learn what happened to his family?

"Ephraim, thank you for coming so quickly," he called out as he stepped forward. Ephraim shifted his attention to the left, a smile forming on his lips.

"Ah, Henry you old scoundrel...how could I refuse my little brother?" he said with a forced laugh. Ephraim stood and held out his hand which the Vicar grasped. The two men shook before Ephraim pulled Henry into a warm embrace. "It's been too long."

Henry patted his brother on his back, surprised by the show of affection. The Godwin family had never been one for hugs. He pulled away to study his older brother, frowning at what he saw. His brother's cheeks reddened under Henry's scrutiny. From anger or embarrassment, Henry couldn't tell but most likely it was a little of both.

Ephraim's face was haggard and reflected too many sleepless nights and a poor diet. The time in Crimean didn't help either. Henry shook his head, not ready to go down that particular rabbit hole just yet. Ephraim's decision to leave his wife and child to go fight in that war still baffled the Vicar.

"Good Lord, Ephraim," Henry said gazing closer at his collar, "Is that blood?"

His cheeks grew darker but he offered no reply. Henry studied him some more, finding his brother's state depressing. His suit was clean enough, but the jacket needed a good brushing. From the smell of things, Ephraim needed a bath as well. Where was his valet?

"I released him...some time ago," Ephraim replied. Henry gave a start, unaware he voiced the last thought. You really are rattled. The thought and his brother brought on a sigh.

"Well that won't do," Henry said as his arm wrapped around his brother's shoulder to guide him to the side exit. "Let's head over to the house. Once you're all cleaned up, we can discuss why I sent for you."

Ephraim offered a smile but said nothing as he let his brother lead him from the church.

Chapter Two

The Vicar lived in a small cottage just behind the church. He led his brother down the winding path, past the graveyard, and through the flowers which his housekeeper planted last year. He still pictured the odd expression on her face when she leaned closer and uttered, "Something to balance the forest." Whatever that meant? He'd lived here for four years, and Henry still found it a struggle to understand what many from the village were talking about.

As the two men approached the front door, Henry glanced back, aware the church would be hidden by the hill, but still hoping for a sign. A crow flew down and landed, scratching at the path looking for something to nibble on. It paused, its head turning to follow the two men as they walked away. The creature's beak opened up wide.

"You fancy a spot of tea?"

Henry paused, staring mouth agape at the blackbird down the lane.

"Vicar?"

He turned his attention back to the house and released a laugh of embarrassment. His housekeeper stood in the doorway. Her left eyebrow raised in question as she nodded towards Ephraim.

"Oh dear," the Vicar said patting his brother's shoulder. "Ms. Morris, this here is my brother Ephraim."

"Pleased to meet you," she replied with a skeptical eye. Ephraim blinked at the woman but a well-placed elbow from his brother opened his mouth.

"Ah...yes, the pleasure is all mine," Ephraim said as he battled to get his breath back. "Please forgive me...I'm finding myself a bit out of sorts these days."

Ms. Morris sighed and gave a quick nod before slipping back into the cottage.

"She likes you," Henry said with a smile.

"How can you tell?"

"She's going to let you in my house."

***

After a bit of fuss, Ephraim found himself sitting in a copper tub in the back of the house. The same tub our mother washed us in when we were young. The thought brought a smile to his face. Happy memories about his past were few and far between. His decision to enter the Army and spur his father's offer to take over the estates had left him ostracized from the family.

He slapped his hand down onto the water, splashing the hot soapy liquid to the floor. If his father hadn't been so pig-headed, his wife and son would still be...present. His thoughts lingered on the last word. He refused to accept the possibility they were dead; until he had actual proof they were only missing. Ephraim knew there was no other choice. That way led to madness.

"Foolish man," he muttered as he stood, the water flowing back into the tub. He grabbed a towel Ms. Morris had laid out next to a change of clothes. Ephraim eyed the clothing. He was taller than his brother and thicker in the chest and arms. He doubted anything of his would fit.

Ephraim hummed a nameless tune as he stepped from the tub. He'd never learned the song's name, but he still remembered the soulful baritone who sang it every day while they marched towards catastrophe. Shaking his head, Ephraim forced the memories away as he slipped on the clothing.

"A perfect fit," he said out loud in wonder.

"They ought to be," Henry said as he slipped into the room. "Her husband was a large man."

He carried a tray over to the table between two chairs next to the fire and placed it down. Motioning with his hand towards the opposite seat, Henry sat with a grunt.

Ephraim slipped into the seat and studied the tray with a pang of sudden hunger. He couldn't remember the last time he ate, but he fought the urge to grab a sandwich. He shifted his attention to his brother as he poured tea into two cups. His stomach grumbled in protest as he waited for Henry to offer the food.

"Are you hungry?" The words barely out of his brother's mouth, as Ephraim scooped up a sandwich and began to eat. He offered a sheepish grin before taking another bite.

The two sat in silence save for the sound of Ephraim's energetic eating. After completing his second sandwich, he leaned back and waited for his brother to share why he was here.

"The Lord works in mysterious ways," Henry said as he placed his teacup down on the tray. He stood, stepping closer to the fireplace, so he could lean against the mantle. Ephraim studied his brother who suddenly seemed lost in the flames.

"So they say," Ephraim responded when his brother didn't continue. Truth be told, it was a saying that he despised. The carnage at Alma and the search for his family had soured him on God and his ways...mysterious or otherwise.

"Yes...even those that don't believe or refuse to accept the wisdom of those words. I called you here to help you understand, to show you that even a man of God can be faced with unimaginable hardships. I called you here to help me solve a mystery...and quite possibly to save a man's soul."

Ephraim stared at his brother, unsure what he was talking about or the direction their conversation had taken. Hardships? Mysteries? What was Henry talking about?

The Vicar turned and at that moment, Ephraim no longer saw a grown man of the cloth. Instead, there stood his younger brother, fear in his eyes, and that little bit of hope his older brother might be able to help. It was a look Ephraim witnessed many times as they grew up. He stood and stepped to his brother, resting his hand on his shoulder.

"Of course, Henry, you know I am always here for you."

His brother patted Ephraim's hand and offered a sad smile, "And I have been and will always be eternally grateful. But you need to know what you are getting into if you agree to help."

Henry turned his attention back to the fire. Ephraim watched the flames' reflections dance in his brother's eyes. A haunted expression washed over the man's features, and Ephraim stepped back, confronted with a look he'd seen on many men's faces during a battle. His chest tightened in concern. He wished that knowledge on no one, especially his brother.

"Henry?"

The question hung between the two men, and just when Ephraim decided to pose it again his brother spoke.

"Ms. Morris's husband disappeared. All the evidence pointed to an accident, but without a body...we can't be sure. She has accepted it and has begun the process to move on, but I need to be convinced."

Ephraim continued to stare at his brother. His last sentence had been filled with a desperation that matched his own in the hunt for his family.

"Of course, what can I do to help?"

"You can lend me your military expertise...your training, as well as your skill as a hunter. You see a month has passed and the moon is almost full. I fear death will soon be upon us."

© 2020 Naked Cat Press. All Rights Reserved

Monday's here already?

Of course, the world was shocked by the news that Chadwick Boseman, star of Black Panther, passed away after a 4-year fight with Colon cancer. During those 4 years, he not only starred in several movies...he starred in several action movies that required so much physically. I was shocked it never leaked out that he was sick, and I was more shocked his ability to pull off the physicality needed to be The Black Panther. Prayers to his family and hopefully this reminds people just how important is to get checked. Colon cancer doesn't play around...

My 2 cents...I don't think they recast Black Panther. Instead, I think they will hand over the mantle of the Black Panther to his sister. This will allow the character to continue and pay respect to Boseman's tremendous portrayal of the protector of Wakanda.

Before he was introduced as Black Panther, Boseman was in a movie we were told to dismiss. However, I found Gods of Egypt to be a fun and enjoyable blockbuster movie. Yes, it is crazy a$$. Yet somehow it achieves what these types of movies are supposed to do...entertain the audience. You can catch it for free on VUDU free and Peacock.

https://youtu.be/IJBnK2wNQSo

If you haven't checked it out yet, Project Power is another one of those big blockbuster type movies. Big stars in a big story with big special effects worthy of a summer blockbuster, Project Power is perfect for surround sound and a bucket of popcorn.

The story is pretty straight-forward:

When a pill that gives its users unpredictable superpowers for five minutes hits the streets of New Orleans, a teenage dealer and a local cop must team with an ex-soldier to take down the group responsible for its creation.

And the main actors play it perfectly. This is a fun movie worth the watch...

https://youtu.be/xw1vQgVaYNQ

If big explosions aren't your thing, I'd like to offer you a thoughtful science fiction movie. Also on Netflix, Safety Not Guaranteed is a thinking man's science fiction movie. With a small budget and an all-star cast, this movie is about questioning your belief, finding your story, and a leap of faith.

A man, who claims to have time-traveled once before, puts an ad in the paper. Three people from a newspaper go to find him and write his story. Along the way, they begin to question their truths and begin to open to the possibility that there just might be more out there...

https://youtu.be/v6xzJNj-zyk

Finally, if foul-mouthed failures in the middle of Kentucky are more to your liking...then check out Hoops. Jake Johnson voices the main character Ben Hopkins, a High School basketball coach living in his famous father's shadow and making all the wrong decisions as he tries to make a name for himself. If you are a fan of animation or cursing...this might be your new favorite show.

Check out the trailer for my 2nd Novel The Pope Lick Massacre. The reviews are coming...check out the tale that people are calling

a "Great Monster Story", "Lurid and Confusing", "Fun", and "Suspenseful".

https://youtu.be/d1Mz13aR1LAFind it on Amazon for Kindle and in Paperback...click here .

Ephraim Godwin Chronicles - The Early Years: Inspector Joseph Kimbell

This is a stand-alone story that takes a look back at a preexisting character from the Ephraim Godwin Chronicles serial.

Summer of 1860...

Joseph Kimbell readjusted his newly purchased bowler for the tenth time as the carriage lurched over the country road. What was a gift to himself for achieving Inspector status was quickly becoming a reminder that people were dishonest. He envisioned his hands around the salesman's throat. Damn that man, perfect fit my foot.

Kimbell glanced out the window and sighed. He studied the lush green landscape as they rumbled by with a frown. He'd avoided the country for five years, instead using that time to claw his way up the force. Yet the moment he achieves Inspector, where does he find himself? Back in the bloody country, that's where. Still, he was on his first case and an important one if the gentleman across from him was telling the truth.

The carriage passed through an archway and the road smoothed considerably. Kimbell's head swung back to the man, his hand shooting up to steady his hat. The man offered a smile, his eyes avoiding the Inspector's hat situation. Kimbell's cheeks flushed, and he was grateful his beard covered his embarrassment. Snatching the bowler from his head, he pretended to study it while fighting the urge to throw it out the window.

"Again, I want to extend the Baron's regret at not being here to meet with you. He is stuck in London with...important business. As his solicitor I can speak for him while we are at his residence," the man said, the smile still on his lips.

Kimbell studied the solicitor; he heard the pause and wondered if anything the man said could be trusted. Of course, when dealing with nobility, Kimbell understood their truth might not mirror the actual truth.

"Quite all right," Kimbell said, slipping his hat back to his head before pulling his hands down to his lap as he fought the urge to jam the hat down, "Although the Lieutenant was vague as to why my services are necessary...especially if the Baron is not at home."

"We hope you can help solve the situation without the Baron's involvement."

Kimbell opened his mouth to question the man further when he caught a glimpse of the house. He gazed out the window, taking in the enormous estate. He wondered how many people worked at such a residence. The suspect list will be massive.

"And what exactly is the situation?" he asked as he returned his attention to the solicitor. Before the man could answer the carriage came to a stop.

"Ah, we are here," the man said as he motioned for Kimbell to step out.

Kimbell studied the solicitor for a moment longer before slipping out and stepping away from the carriage. I'm beginning to think this is a fool's errand.

"What's done is done," he whispered; the words his father spoke almost daily giving him some much needed calm.

"Pardon?" the solicitor asked as he stepped next to the Inspector. He continued to wear the same slight smile that Kimbell had seen during the journey.

"Nothing important," he said before calling out to the carriage driver, "Find the stables, Harry."

The driver tipped his cap and pulled away. Kimbell followed with his eyes, noting the direction in case he needed to find the man later. Of course I'll need a carriage just to make it to the stables in a timely fashion.

"Are you ready Inspector?" the solicitor called out as he moved toward the house's front door.

Kimbell kept his eyes on the carriage a moment longer before letting out a sigh. Am I?

***

Kimbell followed the solicitor through the house. So far so good; they had only turned once from the main foyer. Kimbell worried too many twists and turns would trap him forever in the oversized estate. He soaked in as many details as he could with each step. His guide set a steady pace. Portraits, vases, statues, and tapestries filled the hallways.

Exactly who owns this house? Kimbell wracked his brains but could not remember anyone mentioning an actual name. He slowed a bit to stare at the coronation of Napoleon Bonaparte.

"Please keep up," Mr. Honeycutt called out. "There will be time later to look at the house's oddities.

Oddities? This feels downright treasonous. Keeping his thoughts to himself, Kimbell shook his head but picked up his pace to fall back in step behind the solicitor. Peaking over his guide's shoulder, he saw the hallway ending up ahead with three closed doors, but he suspected they all offered a way from the corridor.

Mr. Honeycutt turned once they arrived at the end. He motioned to the door behind him but didn't move. The two men stood in silence. Kimbell fought the urge to fidget as the quiet stretched.

"Gentlemen, this way," a voice as cold as the grave said as the door at their right opened. Mr. Honeycutt gave a start before a nervous giggle slipped out. He wasn't expecting that. Of course, neither was Kimbell.

As he entered the room, Kimbell found he had to fight the urge to stare at the largest human he'd ever seen. Kimbell, already shorter than most men he met, craned his neck to spy the man's face which appeared sallow, and his blonde hair was so pale as to seem white. The man's wardrobe of all black only intensified his appearance. He offered the men a smile, which neither touched his eyes nor offered any level of reassurance.

"Inspector Kimbell, I want you to meet the reason you are here," Mr. Honeycutt said, his voice reflecting his sudden unease. "Mr. Zachariah Whitlock."

"Pleasure to meet you," Kimbell said after a moment of silence not sure if he spoke the truth yet as the man chilled him to the core.

"Inspector," Whitlock replied with a nod.

"Well I have delivered him as promised and now must take my leave," Mr. Honeycutt said, his words directed to Whitlock.

He offered a slight bow before spinning and rushing from the room. Kimbell studied the man's escape, practically tasting the fear oozing from the solicitor. He didn't seem the type to ever show any true reaction, especially fright. The thought tickled the back of Kimbell's brain, but he shrugged it off, eager to discover why he was standing in a Baron's parlor with a giant.

Whitlock strode across the room, his long legs eating up the distance. Stopping at a table, he poured a dark brown liquid from a decanter into a wide glass. His eyebrows rose in question which Kimbell answered with a quick shake of his head. Whitlock raised the amber liquid to his lips and sipped. Kimbell noted the man visibly relaxed with that first drink.

"I'm sorry to be short," Kimbell said, his cheeks coloring as the implication dawned on him, "But why am I here?"

Whitlock placed the glass down and motioned to a set of chairs by the cold hearth. Kimbell stepped to the seats, keenly aware of the difference between the two men's gait. He sat and placed his hat in his lap. Whitlock slipped into his seat with a sigh.

"Honestly Inspector," he said with a voice so soft Kimbell strained to hear each word, "I'm not sure why you are here just yet. I am but a humble servant to the spirits."

Kimbell shifted forward attempting to process exactly what he thought he just heard. Spirits? He glanced back to the door wondering just how far away Mr. Honeycutt might be.

"Mr. Honeycutt has retired to one of the house's many guest rooms. He will be no help in our quest for the child."

"What?"

"The Baron's missing babe," Whitlock said as his unblinking eyes bore into Kimbell's forehead.

"I'm sorry," Kimbell said as he leaned forward. "Are you saying someone has kidnapped his child?"

"Someone or something," he answered, a grim smirk on his lips. Kimbell stared at the man unsure how to take the conversation.

The door to the room opened. Kimbell glanced over and quickly stood as a young woman glided towards them. While still young, Kimbell sensed the grace and composure of an older woman. Her complexion appeared as pale as Mr. Whitlock's but only because her dark, almost black hair offset it. He could tell it was naturally curly even though she pulled it back into a rather relaxed pony-tail.

"That is why you are here," she said as she approached, her melodic voice a welcome change from Mr. Whitlock's subdued tone. "We believe you are the key to finding the child before it is too late."

"Mr. Kimbell, please allow me to introduce you to my dear sister Zona."

Standing, Kimbell swung his gaze between the siblings, trying to find a likeness and seeing a little here and there that might mark the two as related but nothing specific. Well maybe their height, although the girl falls short by a foot or two. Still, Kimbell noted she was much taller than he, and once again he fought the urge to stand any straighter. What's done is done.

He took her offered hand and shook it once before letting go, "Pleasure."

Ms. Whitlock wore a broad smile and bowed slightly to the Inspector, "The pleasure is all mine, but we must get on to business."

"Yes, yes," her brother said as he stood, and he stalked towards the door. "Come along Mr. Kimbell...time is short."

***

Ms. Whitlock followed the two men back out to the hall and through the opposite door. Her brother slid aside to allow the Inspector an unobstructed view. She visited the room on numerous occasions, and wondered what the man would make of the sparse setting. Zona found it heartbreaking the first time she saw it.

The room itself was spacious. A bed sat against the far wall with a crib across from it. Between the two, four large chests rested slightly away from the wall. One was open now as a small boy pulled out tin soldiers. His back was to the trio, and Zona fought the urge to rush forward to warn the child. Zachariah's hand shot out to block her as if he sensed her thoughts.

Zona gave a sharp shake of her head and continued to watch as the Inspector crept closer to the boy. Whatever is he thinking? Zona paused for a moment, suddenly pondering which "he" she meant. The Inspector, of course, she answered herself after a moment. Her interactions with the boy had produced nothing, except to terrify the poor thing.

The soldiers were all in their proper lines, and the boy glanced up. He froze, his eyes cast down. Zona's heart went out to the boy as he began to tremble.

"Don't worry my boy," Kimbell called out as he inched closer. "You've nothing to worry about."

The boy stayed frozen; his trembling increased and tiny whimpers slipped through his lips. Kimbell raised one hand, which Zona took to mean he was attempting to soothe the boy but instead the cries intensified.

"He can't hear you," Ms. Whitlock said from the doorway, fighting the urge to spring forward and pull the child into her arms. Zachariah warned her that the first meeting between the child and the inspector might be illuminating, and yet Zona found herself caught off guard.

The inspector's fingers were moving in such a motion that Zona wondered if the man might suffer from spasms. He squatted, but his fingers never stopped moving. The child snuck a quick glance up and rocked back. His face was a strange combination of wonder and shock. His fingers began to match the Inspector and after a moment the man glanced at the siblings.

"He says they took his brother five days ago."

***

Kimbell sat on the floor to get a better look at the line of soldiers he controlled. The boy, Michael, lay across from him on his belly. His tongue stuck out the corner of his mouth as he finished positioning the cavalry. The Whitlocks continued to stand near the door, and Kimbell wondered if Zachariah terrified the boy too much to come closer. Or is it the other way around?

Michael smiled as he leaned back to rest on his elbows. Kimbell flashed his fingers in quick succession. They needed to get more information, so they could find the boy's brother. But first, there must be a battle. He pushed the soldiers closest to the front across the makeshift battlefield, but Michael's cavalry made quick work of the effort.

Once Kimbell's soldiers all lay in ruin, Michael clapped his hands together and sprang up. His fingers moved quickly as he answered the Inspector's questions. He wore such a serious expression that Kimbell fought his natural urge to disbelieve everything the boy was sharing. With a smile, Michael finished his explanation and his hands fell silently to his side.

Kimbell glanced back at the pale giant and nodded. Ms. Whitlock stepped forward and motioned to Michael who rushed to her side. She wrapped her arm around him and led him from the room.

"My sister is going to take the child to be fed. Would you like her to return with anything for you?"

Kimbell's stomach rumbled as if to remind him that hours had passed since he last ate, but he shook his head in answer. There could be no delays if what Michael told him was even half true. The time to save the babe was running out.

***

Kimbell studied the door at the end of the hall. It was the only door he had yet to enter, and according to Michael led to his brother's location. The door appeared larger than the others throughout the house; somehow taller and wider, and he wondered if the intricate carvings decorating the wood created the illusion.

He leaned closer soaking in the detail. Unless he was hallucinating, the door told a story. The same story Michael had relayed to him moments before. Kimbell glanced at the quiet giant standing slightly behind him. He wondered how much he knew...how much he believed of what happened to the Baron's youngest. A sly smile flickered across Whitlock's pale lips before the steady mask reappeared.

"Are you mocking me, sir?" Kimbell said, the words sharp and loud. He would not be made fun of by this man, no matter who required his presence.

"Be calm," Whitlock said as the smile returned. "You can see the carving...the story."

Kimbell paused a moment before nodding. Whitlock wasn't asking, he knew the Inspector saw it. Or at the very least was hoping. Whitlock rested his delicate hand on Kimbell's shoulder and offered a reassuring squeeze.

"No one other than myself, Zona, and that boy can see anything but a door. And yet here we have an everyday Inspector who not only can speak to the deaf but can see that which can't be seen by most of humanity. You are the key as my sister likes to say in these situations."

"Was I wrong?" Ms. Whitlock's voice echoed down the hall. Kimbell glanced back and tipped his head as she glided towards them. The boy was no longer with her and Kimbell sighed in relief. A weight he hadn't realized there lifted from his shoulders.

"No dear sister," Whitlock said as he ushered them back into the nursery.

"How truthful was Michael?" she asked the Inspector as they moved to the center of the room.

Kimbell stayed quiet, unsure of how to answer. A sane man, a man without his experience, might argue that nothing Michael said was truthful. Instead, he pursed his lips and scratched at his chin, stepping away from the siblings and toward the crib.

"I believe quite truthful," Kimbell finally answered, turning his attention back to the Whitlocks.

"Fantastic," Ms. Whitlock said as she clapped her hands together in celebration. "This will be easier for us to do then."

She glanced at her brother and slid forward after he nodded. Kimbell studied the young woman as she moved closer, his arms and legs suddenly heavy. He moved to speak, but his lips stayed closed. His body swayed as the room began to spin. Ms. Whitlock stopped in front and held out her hand, a shining ball pulsed in her palm.

Kimbell swore there was a person in the light, but she closed her hand and his world went black.

***

The next time Kimbell opened his eyes, he found himself staring at the ceiling. He thought they were in the same room, but it was darker than last time. Ms. Whitlock stood over him, studying him from above. She wore a smile and reached down.

"Ah, thank goodness... I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a tad worried," she said, her voice conveying a confidence lacking in her words. He gripped her hand and allowed her to pull him to his feet. His head spun from the motion.

"What happened?"

Instead of answering, she swept her arm out as if presenting the room. Kimbell blinked the dizziness away, and after a few deep breaths focused on the room. His guess was correct. They were in the nursery, and yet something was different. Where did all this fog come from? But after a moment, Kimbell realized it wasn't fog but something else.

"It's like peeking through a shimmery curtain," he mumbled to himself.

"That's the best description I've heard yet."

Kimbell glanced at Ms. Whitlock who looked more solid than the rest of the room. A thought tickled the back of his brain, a fleeting notion that he was too slow to catch, as it slithered away. Shaking his head, Kimbell accepted the loss. Plenty of time to track it down later...at least he hoped.

The door opening grabbed his attention. A shadow slipped in and shuffled towards the crib. Kimbell moved to step in front of the creature, but Ms. Whitlock placed her hand on his shoulder.

"It can't see you," she whispered. "We are watching reflections of the past."

He glanced up at her and wondered exactly what the devil the woman was talking about. He swung back in time to see the shadowy figure climbed up the end of the crib and reach down to scoop up the baby. A soft mewing sounded as the culprit shimmied down and moved back towards the door. Kimbell stepped closer, and as the figure moved by he was able to study it in detail.

The person was a foot or so shorter than he. It had a roundness to it that reminded Kimbell of an over-inflated balloon. In its arms lay a baby. Michael's brother, Kimbell decided. It cooed and reached up to grasp his kidnapper's long bushy eyebrows. Kimbell ducked down to get a better look.

The kidnapper's face, where once chiseled features were now worn smooth by age, had the appearance of old leather. Its circular eyes were wide apart, and an immense flat nose covered much of the being's face. Its lips, fat and pale, pressed together as it attempted to ignore the babe's tugs.

The pair disappeared through the doorway. Kimbell stepped forward, ready to follow when Ms. Whitlock stopped him again. He turned towards the crib, suddenly aware there was still something there. He raced to the baby's bed and stood on his tiptoes. Looking down, he saw what appeared to be a baby.

Kimbell studied the bundle, leaning as close as the tall side would allow. It was the right size for a baby, but something was off. When Kimbell finally noticed it, he staggered back. He stared at the crib in wonder. The replacement was the spitting image of the creature who just took the babe from the room; the features not as worn, and the skin more supple and smooth but still the same face.

A ghostly shadow of Michael rose from his bed, a cry on his lips, as he hurried to his brother's crib. Looking down, much as Kimbell just had, he studied the baby and after a moment's hesitation scooped it up. Rushing to the fire, he threw in the swaddled creature. Kimbell sprang forward, but as he passed through the boy and reached into the flames, he realized his actions were futile.

Ms. Whitlock slid next to him and patted his shoulder, "This is why we are here. The parents believe their oldest a murderer, but we know better. He was removing the stranger left behind before his spell could entrance the household. You see Michael's condition is more in tuned with this world than his own."

Kimbell sighed, aware that the changeling's death made time even more pressing. He only prayed they found the babe before it was too late.

***

Kimbell stood before the old oak door once again. Ms. Whitlock stood a little behind, off to his right side. A soft bluish glow shined on the carvings, and they sprang to life. Kimbell leaned closer to see through the fog and study the growth of a group of vines in the middle. They crawled over the wood, covering the other carvings before blooming with small flowers. The light intensified and the vines pulled back as she held the glowing orb closer and revealed a knob.

Kimbell reached out instinctively, unsure if he would even be able to touch the doorknob through the shimmer. He gasped as his hand wrapped around the freezing metal. Terrified his hand might stick to the metal, he quickly turned the knob. The door held for a moment, then a click echoed through the hall and the door swung in. Kimbell released the doorknob, immediately jabbing his hand under his armpit for warmth.

"Remember all metal will be like that down there," Ms. Whitlock said as she pointed to the dark opening before them. Kimbell nodded, gave a start, and swung back to the woman.

"Are you not coming?" he asked, his voice tinged with fear. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment, unnerved that his emotions were so plain in front of the young woman.

She offered a tight smile and squatted down a bit to be more eye level, "I cannot. I have already tried and failed. This is the final reason they selected you."

Ms. Whitlock held out her hand with the glowing bulb. The light hovered an inch or two from her palm, and Kimbell could see a tiny person standing in the orb. While feminine in appearance and sporting long hair to its shoulders, Kimbell found he had trouble deciding on the sex. He reached out tentatively, his hand shaking slightly.

"I wouldn't do that," Ms. Whitlock said, her voice trailing off into a few sporadic giggles.

"Sorry...it's just been a while since anyone tried to touch him. I'm not sure we ever found all the fingers."

Kimbell snatched his hand back and glared at the orb as tiny bell-like chimes floated from the sphere. Ms. Whitlock's free hand slipped up to her face, as she struggled to contain more laughter. Kimbell growled: anger, impatience, and embarrassment all fighting for dominance.

"And?" he finally asked, hoping to draw attention back to the task at hand.

"Quite right...quite right," she said as she stepped back from the bulb. "He will follow you and on occasion even help, but that is rare. When you are ready to return simply step into any mirror that will allow your girth; if that fails then tell him, and he will help you return to reality. But be warned...do not come back without the babe in your arms or all is lost."

Kimbell nodded and turned to the doorway finding a slick reflective glass in place of the opening. He studied his face, aware that it now bore many more years than when he arrived. He stepped forward; hesitating when his toe touched the mirror before pushing his foot into its reflection.

Kimbell gasped as he realized there was no sensation from his foot as it passed through the mirror. It just disappeared. He glanced at Ms. Whitlock wondering if he should mention this fact to her in case it was important. As he opened his mouth, a violent shudder wracked his body as some powerful force began to pull. Kimbell fell on his backside and reached out scrambling to grasp hold of anything permanent to slow his acceleration.

Ms. Whitlock pushed the ball forward and it slipped through the mirror just before the force pulled Kimbell through. He prayed he was ready for whatever was on the other side.

***

Kimbell plummeted through the darkness, consistent pressure on his ankle the only thing he experienced. Nothing I would expect a fall to be like...no wind, no noise, nothing but the steady sensation of being pulled. Yet Kimbell was sure he was falling down, and not being pulled across the dark.

A tiny pinpoint of blue light appeared below his feet, and as he came closer it grew into the orb Ms. Whitlock sent ahead. Relief washed over him as he approached the glowing light. Thank heavens. There was a point when he wondered if he might fall in the dark forever but now there was the light. Reaching out, he snagged it as he flew by. It pulsed in what Kimbell could only guess was irritation at being handled.

"Well tough," he growled, wrapping both arms around it. He would protect the orb and its occupant until his dying breath. Until then the bloody thing was stuck with him.

The pressure on his ankle lessened, and then disappeared right before he struck the ground and rolled through the darkness. With each spin, the darkness receded until he lay on his back and stared up at a midday sky.

Kimbell sat up and sighed. Where the hell am I?

"A field," a tiny voice said from a rose bush to his right.

"Excuse me?"

"Ya wanted to know where ya were," the voice replied.

Kimbell stood and dusted off his pants, front to back. He let out a long breath. Yes... I guess I did.

"Well, I was hoping for something a little more exact."

"Ya're in this field," the voice said, full of joy.

Kimbell stepped to his hat, now dirty and beat up, and bent over to retrieve it. As he balanced it upon his head, he turned to the bush once more. Slipping closer, he hoped to catch the voice's owner but there were only roses present.

"Say, you wouldn't have seen a baby about five days ago?"

"Can't say that I have, but there was a plump little lad six days ago."

Kimbell bit his bottom lip, fearful an outburst would drive the voice away before providing any useful information. He took a few deep breaths through his nostrils and forced a smile to his lips.

"Which way did that one go?"

"I'm not sure I like ya tone," the voice said after a moment. Kimbell spun around and stalked away from the bush. Each step came down heavier and with more force as Kimbell tried to channel his anger through his legs. After fourteen steps, he spotted the orb sitting against an oak tree.

"At least all is not lost," he mumbled remembering Ms. Whitlock's instructions. No bloody mirrors in sight and the Lord only knows if I'll find one.

He picked it up and studied the light blue transparent bulb. The little man was unconscious. Kimbell hoped it was from the rough landing and nothing serious. He stared for a moment, took a deep breath, and shook the orb. The man jostled around and when Kimbell stopped, he stood and glowered. Kimbell offered a smile, but the orb exploded into a painfully bright light and zipped away.

He pressed his hands against his eyes and howled in agony. Fire traveled through his head as if the light had seared his eyes away and burned a hole to the back of his skull. He twisted and turned, struggling to embrace the pain but failing as it filled his very being. Stumbling after a few steps, Kimbell found himself on his knees before flopping to his stomach. A whimper slipped out before he could clamp his lips shut.

Whining won't help the situation...chin up. The thought flittered through his head in his father's voice. Just the calming presence he needed at the moment.

"Blazes," the tiny voice said. "I haven't seen a fairy that upset before... I mean blue?"

Kimbell's eyes fluttered open and through his blurred vision, he realized a small blob was before him. Ms. Whitlock did say the orb would help on occasion. Kimbell would mark this in the success column. As his vision cleared, he gave a start for the blob was actually a brown hare.

"A rabbit?" The question more to himself than the beast but at his words, it raised to its full height.

"I beg ya pardon," it said, sputtering in disbelief, "I am Lepus europaeus...or to the common man a brown hare." The creature added emphasis on the word common as it stared daggers at Kimbell.

"Sorry...sorry," Kimbell said raising one hand in surrender as he rocked back to sit up. "I was just caught off guard; I meant no harm."

The hare pounded his foot on the ground for a moment; raising such a racket Kimbell feared it would attract unwanted attention. As he opened his mouth to protest, its foot grew still.

"Very well but that is twice, once more and I will hop out of here," it said with a scrunched up nose that Kimbell expected the creature thought threatening, but he found adorable. He resisted the urge to reach out and bop it.

"Thank you. My name is Inspector Kimbell and as I said earlier, I am searching for a baby who traveled through fiv...six days ago."

The hare tilted its head and Kimbell wondered if it was thinking or if there was something behind him. As he began to ask, the hare spoke.

"Why...is it ya baby?"

"Well no but a young boy's life hangs in the balance; a life I am sworn to protect."

"What's it worth?" the hair said after a brief silence.

"I can't place a price on the boy's life or the baby," Kimbell said, concentrating on each word to keep his voice steady and calm. He forced a toothless smile at the end, hoping it would help disguise the rage boiling throughout his body. Bugger's lucky I don't have a rifle with me or it'd be rabbit stew for sure.

"What's a rifle?" the hare asked as he leaned forward, nose scrunched up once again.

Kimbell clenched his hands into tight fists at his side and growled. Damn this place!

"It's not important," Kimbell said. "What can I do to persuade you to help?"

The hare hopped back a few steps and scratched at one of its long furry ears seemingly deep in thought. Kimbell glanced around, searching for the orb and relieved to see it floating a few yards away. He motioned to it with his hand but it stayed in place.

"It can get awfully cold at night," the hare said, each word exaggerated as the beast hopped towards Kimbell. "And while ya might think my beautiful fur keeps me warm...there are times I found myself wishing for a hat. A hat like that." The hare pointed to Kimbell's head, rocking in excitement on its long hind feet.

Kimbell pulled the hat off his head and looked at the bloody thing. It is too small. But I just bought it with the last of my savings. The two thoughts clashed together in his head before he gave it a sharp shake. As if there's any choice to be made here. He nodded as he placed the hat back on his head.

"It's a deal. Once I have the babe, you will have my hat."

"My hat," the rabbit said.

"Yes, that's what I said," Kimbell said, exasperation creeping back into his tone.

The hare held up its paw, showing one finger, "I understand losing a hat can be upsetting, so I will let that display pass but ya are on thin ice."

Kimbell fought the urge to grumble as he suspected that as long as his hat was on the line, the beast would put up with quite a bit more.

"Very gracious," he said instead of the hundred other words rushing through his brain that he struggled to ignore at the moment. The hare turned and began to hop away in a zigzag pattern. The orb floated past Kimbell and pulsed in what he assumed was some sort of curse word in Morse Code. Slipping his hat off, he chased after the two.

***

Squatting behind a hedgerow, Kimbell studied the small cottage on the other side. The orb burnt a hole straight through the greenery so Kimbell could watch undetected. Little fellow is handy in a pinch. The hare rocked back and forth, its eyes glued to the Inspector's hat.

"And you're sure they took the babe there?" Kimbell asked even though the question had been asked and answered many times.

The hare nodded, eyes wide with exasperation, "Yes, yes, yes! Well...unless his time is up of course."

Kimbell turned his attention to the creature and leaned close. "What do you mean by 'time is up'?"

The hare offered a weak smile before glancing down toward the dirt. It began to shuffle its oversized paws and Kimbell wondered if it planned to bolt. Not without the hat, I suspect.

"Surely the shiny bulb there told ya that after a while the babe becomes locked to this place."

"As you may have noticed he speaks very little."

The hare's head cocked to the side, suspicion, and bewilderment battling over his face, "He hasn't shut up since I found ya two."

"Yes well... I am hard of hearing," Kimbell said with a sigh. "Now what do you mean locked to this place."

"Humans aren't supposed to be able to travel back and forth...so when they borrow a babe, they take it to that house and after a bit, it gets stuck."

The orb flashed brighter and brighter as the hare spoke until the light shined as bright as the sun. Kimbell glanced over at the ball as a bag slipped over it and killed the illumination. Struggling to draw the bag closed was the ugliest person Kimbell had ever witnessed.

He struggled to identify if the creature was a man or woman, and as soon as he decided it would shift and throw doubt on the choice. Long, stringy black hair hung down partially hiding not only the being's face but also its body. Its hair tied and woven together produced both a shirt and pants for the creature, leaving only its arms, feet, and eyes exposed. The tip of a very long nose poked out of the mess on occasion.

The exposed skin was an ashy color, with patches of green and brown haphazardly scattered. Its arms were thin and elongated, ending in fat palms and insanely long fingers. Each finger sported an equally long fingernail that ended in a point.

"Look here," she said with a voice like scratched glass. "What are you doing outside my house?"

Kimbell drew up and flashed his badge, "Inspector Kimbell, ma'am. I'm investigating a missing babe and you are a person of interest."

The hare stared at him with a slack jaw before glancing around as if to find anyone to share in his disbelief. Kimbell ignored the brown bunny, instead staring intently at the creature holding the bag. She tapped one long finger against her bottom lip before shaking her head.

"Not talking to you," she growled as she pointed at the hare. His left foot began to tremble, and he held up his front paws as he bowed his head.

"Just trying to get what's owed me, Kyla," the hare said, his voice so shaky the words garbled together. Kimbell glanced at the creature with a frown as it began to slide farther away from him. I think I may be in a spot of trouble. He fought the urge to curse the Whitlocks and this long-eared turncoat.

"Well off with you while I deal with this trespasser," Kyla said, her voice sharp and commanding. She pointed back the way they came and the rabbit slinked away, seemingly afraid to hop.

"Now look here," Kimbell said, puffing his chest out. He wasn't about to let anyone deal with him, let alone this woman. She waved her hands and Kimbell's mouth slammed shut. Invisible bonds tightened around him, pinning his arms to his side and tangling around his legs. He swayed side to side as the bonds began to cut into his flesh.

"Your kind has no say here, blue-belly," she said with a sneer.

Kyla slung the bag over her shoulder and stalked past the Inspector. After a few feet she motioned towards him, and he jerked forward as if pulled by a rope. With his legs pressed together, he found the only choice was hop or fall and be dragged. Damn that rabbit!

***

As they moved closer, Kimbell realized the cottage, while old, was well taken care of. Fresh paint covered the building, flowers bloomed around the base, and the roof had been recently thatched. A gentle breeze crossed their path, and Kimbell found the area soothing. About the opposite of Kyla truth be told. The thought made him shiver as he imagined what was about to happen. Bedtime tales spoken in the dark flooded his mind and his blood ran cold.

The front door opened and the old crone entered with Kimbell hopping behind her. As he approached the entrance his legs cramped, and he tumbled to the ground. A loud moan of discomfort slipped past his lips and Kyla reappeared in the doorway. In her arms was a babe wrapped in green blankets. No not blankets, giant leaves. The thought boggled his mind; never had he seen leaves like these.

"No time for layin' about," Kyla said with a toothy smile. "Stew can't make itself and by the looks of you...tenderizing will take some time."

The babe squirmed in her grasp and two pink arms stretched out. It issued a sharp cry before settling back down. Kimbell cursed his luck. So close to the babe...well a babe, and tied up like a pig for slaughter.

Kyla waved her hand once again and the bonds grew tighter as he began to slide towards the house. She stepped down and to the side so Kimbell could be dragged inside with no issue. Dirt rose from his movement and soon the area was a dusty mess.

A sharp cry rose from the dust and the bonds loosened. Kimbell scrambled to his knees, hands ready to repel any attack. The hare appeared and held out the babe.

"Now give me my hat!"

Kimbell jammed his hat on the rabbit's head and snatched the babe. He stumbled to his feet and hurried away from the cottage. Where in the hell am I going to find a mirror?

The babe cried out as Kimbell jostled him, switching him from one shoulder to the next. Kimbell tried issuing soothing noises but after a few steps could only offer gasps. He rushed away from the cottage and down the walkway, each step taking him towards where he appeared. The crone's cries filled his ears, and he hugged the boy closer.

Crashing through the hedge, a section to his left exploded upwards. Kimbell stumbled in surprise. His confidence in his escaping the woman shattered as leaves rained down upon them; won't matter if I don't discover a mirror over here.

"You could double back and retrieve the orb," he said, hoping hearing it out loud was more effective than just thinking it. After a moment he shook his head and sighed...nope sounds just as crazy.

Everything about this place was insane, and he stamped his foot in anger. I'm a simple Inspector...not some fairy tale hero...damn those Whitlocks! Stamping his foot again for good measure, Kimbell pushed his anger aside and moved forward. The babe had grown quiet and Kimbell wanted to make it back to the original clearing and check on the lad.

The ground shook under his feet as jets of dirt and bits of green shot up all around him. Kimbell focused on shifting his course every few feet hoping to confuse the old hag. Trees ripped from the ground and toppled, as Kimbell dodged left to right and back again. He prayed the chaos was hiding his movement, but he had no idea if the next explosion would be under his feet.

Entering the clearing he slowed to a walk and spun around to keep an eye on the way he came. The sky above appeared to be darkening and it was at that moment Kimbell accepted there was no escape. He slumped to his knees and held the baby out.

The boy was eight months old, Kimbell guessed, but he really had no experience with babies; except once when he was a young boy himself, barely old enough to walk on his own. In fleeting memories and deep dreams, he witnesses a dark time when a child disappeared from his crib and no one batted an eye at the replacement.

Kimbell pulled the boy back to his chest, hugging him tightly and praying for a miracle.

"Ya really can't stay," the hare said as he bounced to a stop in front of the inspector. He dragged the sack he held from his shoulder and pulled the drawstrings free. The orb shot out like a cannonball on the battlefield. It slowed at the tops of the trees, hovering for a few seconds as it lit the sky in a bright blue hue. "Especially since that little bugger just told the whole world where to find ya."

"I concur," Kimbell said through gritted teeth as he struggled to his feet.

The glowing ball fell back to the earth. Kimbell stared up at it, growing uncomfortable as the orb plummeted towards his face. The bluish light enveloped him and the babe as the hare hopped away with a wave. Kimbell glanced towards the movement, sad to see his new hat leave but content that it was for a good cause.

"Goodbye," Kimbell said before his world went black once again.

***

"Inspector?" a soft voice said with concern and a bit of impatience present. Kimbell's eyes fluttered open, the darkness slowly dissipating until Zachariah Whitlock's face appeared.

"Mr. Whitlock?" Kimbell asked, shocked to see anything. "The boy?"

"He's fine," Ms. Whitlock said, her voice coming from across the room. "You sir are a hero."

Kimbell's cheeks burned hot as he struggled to sit up. His coat was off, and his cravat loosened. His face ached. He reached to his nose, wincing when his fingers brushed the mashed mess.

"Yes, that will take some time to heal. Never seen the little bugger bring someone back in quite your shape, but better than staying over there I expect."

Mr. Whitlock's words sank into Kimbell's ears, but they didn't register. The boy is safe. An unseen weight lifted from his shoulders as he laid back down and slipped back into a deep slumber.

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