Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Hey, Mr. Chu, my shift just ended, I'm headed home for the evening!" Kate called down the hallway to her jovial, but somewhat oblivious, especially to the time, boss. It was Friday afternoon, and she was eager to get going and start her weekend.

"Okay!" Mr. Chu yelled back. "Walk safe! Be careful of the woods!"

"I will!" She replied, even as her lips turned downwards into a grimace. Shouldering her bookbag, she strode out the back door of Cambridge Falls' sole outdoor supply store, Chu's Garden and Home Improvements. She'd been working there after school for a year now, and it was fine, for the most part, but she still couldn't wrap her head around certain oddities her boss possessed. 

Then again, Kate thought, as she was beginning to walk down the street, it wasn't like he was the only odd one, here in the town of Cambridge Falls. The residents radiated strangeness like the sun radiated heat, and though Kate had lived here for over ten years, she doubted she would ever wholly understand it. (Maybe, to do so, you had to be born here, rooted in the soil. Fed the bizarre from birth to death.)

On first glance, the town, sitting right on the New York and Vermont border, didn't seem that unusual. It was small and isolated, tucked against the untamed forest, trapped between the mountains and Lake Champlain. The Cambridge River ran past it, down said mountains and eventually into said lake, and created the titular falls. There were no more than two thousand people living there, the closest city was Westport, directly across the lake, and life was simple, not impoverished but far from wealthy. It definitely came across as a bit antiquated, but not unnatural, and certainly not disturbing. The eeriness only reared its head when you got closer, when you had already put down roots and it was too late to leave.

Kate knew that eeriness all too well. She'd been steeped in it for long enough to learn about the town's dark underbelly. A dozen or so mysterious disappearances over the past century. None of them solved, none of the people recovered, alive or dead. And, even more unnerving, no one seemed particularly interested in recovering them; no one seemed to be searching for answers. That was the part that made her uncomfortable. She could handle the ghost stories and superstitions, grating as they could get. She could handle the way almost every local blamed the entirety of the town's problems on a boogeyman. What she couldn't handle was the fact that everyone was resigned to it all, the disappearances, the legends, the mystery. How could the town just give up, over and over again, on its residents? Kate couldn't fathom it. After all, she never stopped searching for her missing loved ones, and she never ever would.

(She had been only four, when Richard and Clare Wibberly vanished. The couple had left their family home in Boston to attend a work function at the local college where Richard taught. According to the other guests, they never arrived, and they never made it home either. Ever since that fateful December night, Kate and little siblings, Michael and Emma, were stuck in a terrible void of not knowing. Still, they refused to lay down and accept it. They searched their parents' names in every online database. They emailed anyone they could think of who might have information. And every Thursday, without fail, Kate called the police officers assigned to the Wibberly case - from Agatha, the first one on the scene, who was bumbling but kind and who always took Kate's calls up 'till the day she died in a car fire, to the current Detective Crumley, who was rude and short tempered and loathe to talk - to ask for updates, even though everything had gone cold years ago. Even though the cops didn't seem to have any interest in doing something to change that.)

The wind whipped at her hair as she walked, chilling her even through her sturdy coat. Such was February in Cambridge Falls, though the month was on its way out. In a few days, it would be March, and on the 7th Kate would turn eighteen. She supposed that was a big milestone, but it didn't feel that way to her. How could it, when she lost her innocence so long ago? Official adulthood meant nothing to someone who'd been functioning like an adult for years now.

She pushed the thought from her mind. It wasn't worth dwelling on, and besides, she needed to watch where she was going, lest she ram headfirst into some unfortunate fellow pedestrian.

Kate made her way through town, passing by all the usual haunts; the soccer field, where Emma spent Monday and Wednesday afternoons, the library, where Michael volunteered on Tuesday evenings. She passed McClattery's repair shop, the home of Emma's best friend Dena and Dena's older brother Lee, the town hall, where Mayor Rourke presided over local affairs, and so forth, until finally, she reached an intersection. 

"Hello Abraham," she called to the town's sole photographer, who was, as usual, seated at a table outside Sallow's Diner, the only real restaurant around, which sat on the corner and was known for its delicious food and surly owner. Despite the chill, Abraham never turned down the chance to sit in the fresh air, drink his coffee, and potentially snap a few pictures of some natural phenomena or interesting passerby.

"Hello!" Abraham called back with a cheerful wave. "Headed home?"

"Yeah," Kate said with a smile.

"Well, when you get there, tell that sister 'a yours that she's achieved infamy."

"Oh?" The young woman raised an eyebrow, wondering what trouble Emma got herself into this time.

"Magda Von Klappen was ranting about it to ol' Sallow when I got here," Abraham told her conspiratorially, "apparently, someone stuck a ton of garlic in the air-vents to her office, stinkin' the whole place up. She can't prove who did it, but she's pretty sure it was Emma an' that mischievous friend of hers."

"Dena," Kate replied automatically. Ms. Von Klappen (a strict, unsympathetic algebra teacher whom none of the Wibberlys liked much in the least) was probably right. This was exactly the sort of thing Emma and Dena would do out of spite and a desire for laughs. "Well, they'll be thrilled to hear they're the talk of the town."

"I'm sure they will," Abraham agreed. "Being's o' chaos, both of 'em. Just make sure they don't get into too much trouble, will you? I'd hate for them to draw the attention of, um, unsavory forces. Y'know?"

Unfortunately, Kate did know. She gritted her teeth and kept on smiling, even though she wanted to scowl. "Thanks for the advice, Abraham," she said in a clipped voice, "and have a nice evening."

She turned onto the narrow road heading away from the town's center, her mood quickly souring. She didn't even pause at the first house on the street, retired teacher and local oddity Hugo Algernon's place, like she normally did to see if his pet goats were out and getting into any antics. She was too annoyed. It wasn't even the way Abraham had immediately made Emma's behavior her responsibility - she was used to that by now, and she didn't mind, really. No, it was the fact that once again, the town of Cambridge Falls couldn't go a whole day without referencing the fucking Dire Magnus.

He was the personal devil of just about every person in this town. Their very own ghost story, told in hushed, fearful tones around summer campfires and at teenagers' Halloween parties. He was a sorcerer and a king, they claimed, ruling his enchanted forest domain with an iron fist. He had an army of malevolent creatures at his command, they continued. His power was infinite, they said, matched only by his cruelty. And he inflicted that cruelty upon Cambridge Falls.

All those missing people? They had earned his ire and been taken away to his realm, from which they never returned. That was what everyone said - and not just said, it was what everyone truly believed. The Dire Magnus was their curse, the root of all their troubles, and the whole town accepted it. They gave up on trying to change things, on trying to save anyone, on the people they claimed to love. All because they were so afraid of the demon prowling the woods.

Kate was sick of it. It was exhausting, the constant coded warnings, the everlasting undertone of fear. Be careful of the woods and don't draw too much attention to yourself and watch out for unsavory forces. The people who let a local legend rule their lives, who gave up on their own, who refused to change. 

She walked past the little bungalow that belonged to Granny Peet, the Wibberlys' (and half the town's) unofficial grandmother. Now there was a person who didn't let fear rule her life; Granny Peet was one of the few people in all of Cambridge Falls who was not scared of the Dire Magnus. She believed in him, sure - she was the first one to introduce Kate and her siblings to the stories, after all - but she was not frightened. ("He may be a sorcerer king," she had proclaimed, "but if he thinks he can waltz into my home and terrify me, he's got somethin' else coming. He'll mind his manners, else I'll introduce his face to my frying pan!")

A little ways down the road from Granny Peet's place, just 'round the bend, was Kate's home. It was right up against the treeline, and just a short hike from the river, on the very outskirts of town. The house was rather small, but it was neat, and for over a decade it had been Kate's safe place, where she resided with the only three people in this world that she trusted.

Letting out a heavy sigh, she unlocked the door and deposited her coat, shoes, and bag on a small bench right inside. There was noise coming from the kitchen, old folk music playing, and Kate found herself smiling, just a bit, as she followed the sound of Woody Guthrie's crooning.

"I'm home," she called as she popped her head through the doorway.

"I see that," replied Gabriel, who was surrounded by opened cupboards and random items scattered about. "How was work?"

"Good. Normal. What're you up to?"

"Reorganizing these cabinets. I got off early and thought I'd clean stuff up. Probably a bad call on my part, considering there's a lot of random shit I didn't even know we had stuffed in here."

"Yeah," Kate agreed, pulling a chair over and sitting cross legged atop it. "You fucked that one up."

Gabriel shot her a wry grin, gray eyes gleaming in the warm overhead light. At almost six and a half feet tall, with a full black beard and a thick scar across his strong face, most people tended to find him intimidating. But not Kate; she knew he was a gentle giant at heart, always treating her and her siblings with the utmost care. She'd seen him cry over animated movies with Michael, carry Emma around on his shoulders for hours without complaint, laugh at his own bad jokes, and don a bumblebee printed apron and a man-bun to bake a cake for Granny Peet's birthday. His presence was nothing but comforting to her.

 (Gabriel Tessouat was the Wibberly siblings' godfather, honorary uncle, legal guardian, and parental figure. He was also a lifelong resident of Cambridge Falls, a skilled outdoorsman and decent hunter, and an employee of the nearby national park, where he'd first met the siblings' mother, Clare, when she'd signed up for a guided hike. The two had become fast friends, and Gabriel had also gotten close to her then-fiancé and eventual husband, Richard. When the couple had their kids, they'd, of course, named Gabriel the guardian in the event that something happen to them. They had no way of knowing that was exactly how things would go.

When Richard and Clare vanished, it was Gabriel who was called. It was Gabriel who came to pick the kids up from the police station, it was Gabriel who took on their care without hesitation, moving them to Cambridge Falls and trying his damn best to raise them right. It was Gabriel who loved and supported them, when it seemed everyone else in the world didn't care. There really were no words, in Kate's mind, to encapsule how much he had done for them, nor how much he meant to them.)

The pair made small talk as Gabriel bustled about. He filled Kate in on the latest drama with his coworkers - one of them was going through a particularly messy divorce - plus his latest gripes over the Mayor's reelection campaign and its constant pomp and circumstance, and then Kate repeated what Abraham had told her about Emma, Dena, Magda Von Klappen, and an office full of garlic. Gabriel raised an eyebrow at that.

"Well, that explains why I need to buy more of it, I guess," he said. "And why she was so giggly this afternoon."

"You gonna ground her?" Kate asked. While Gabriel doted on Emma (they had similar interests and personalities, and while all three Wibberly children were close to their guardian, he and Emma were the best of friends) he wasn't above disciplining her with various creative chores when she caused trouble. Last time she played a prank on Michael (putting a Daddy-Long-Legs in his bed to 'cure' his arachnophobia) Gabriel made her spend an entire weekend weeding Granny Peet's whole garden.

"Should I?" He asked.

"Your call," she replied with a shrug. "I'm not gonna bother with this one."

"Me either. It was objectively funny, nothing was damaged, she's gotten away with it, and, besides, Magda Von Klappen is an absolute ass who's always judging everyone else's for trivial things. She had it coming."

"Fair enough."

They fell into comfortable silence for a while, until-

"Huh," grunted Gabriel, studying the mess he'd made in the kitchen. "Well, it's definitely gonna be an easy dinner tonight. Could you go ask Michael and Emma whether they want pasta or eggs and sausage?"

"Sure thing," said Kate. "They in our room?"

"Yeah. Michael's doing homework. Emma's supposed to be doing homework too, but, well..."

"It's Emma, and she's probably procrastinating."

"Exactly."

Kate chuckled lightly as she slipped out of the kitchen and down the hall to the room she and her brother and sister all shared. Gabriel's house only had two bedrooms, the smaller of which was his, and the larger of which had been, throughout the thirteen plus years they'd been living here, adjusted until it suited the siblings' needs. They each had their own space, sectioned off by floor-to-ceiling curtains that Gabriel had rigged to divide the room. 

Michael's section was the one which contained the bedroom door, and so she expected him to answer when she knocked. When he didn't, even after she knocked twice, she sighed and opened the door anyways, expecting to find him listening to music or whatever, unable to hear her. But, in fact, he wasn't there. Not sprawled on his bed, not seated at the little desk where he always did his homework, not browsing his full bookshelf for one of the mythology collections or science tomes he so enjoyed.

He must be with Emma, she thought, probably scolding her for not getting her schoolwork done. Michael, for all his many good qualities, was something of a nag when it came to his younger sister and her propensity for mischief. 

Kate slipped through the gray curtains and into Emma's space, only to find it too was empty. Though there were clothes tossed across the bed and the purple rug, Emma was not messing around with her soccer ball (which was half poking out from under the bed) nor was she flopped in her favorite bean-bag chair. Michael was also nowhere to be seen. Kate frowned.

She pushed through the second set of curtains and walked into her own section of the room. It was also empty, and looked as she'd left it this morning; green quilt covering the bed, books and trinkets arranged somewhat haphazardly on the shelf, swivel chair tucked in, and the box-worth of notes on her parents' case, which she often read through on those many nights when insomnia gripped her fiercely, was seated atop her desk. There was only one thing out of place; the window. It was open fully, green and yellow checkered curtains pushed back, cold air leaking into the room. Kate knew for a fact she hadn't opened it before she left. She rarely opened that window in this sort of weather.

Her fingers crept upwards, curling around the golden locket that had once belonged to her mother, that she had worn every day since her parents vanished. Her eyes drifted down from the open window to the trunk she kept beneath it, filled with extra blankets, seasonal clothes, and some other odds and ends. The trunk that was sturdy enough to be used as a step-stool for a fourteen and fifteen year old attempting to climb out the window...

"GABRIEL!" Kate bellowed his name as she clutched the locket tighter. Her siblings had snuck out, she just knew it. 

"What?" Gabriel came running through the room, energized by the panic in his eldest child's voice.

"Michael and Emma, I think they snuck out," Kate said quickly, swinging an arm to gesture to the window and the trunk. Gabriel's mouth immediately pulled into a deep frown.

"What? No... They wouldn't... They don't sneak out..."

He wasn't wrong about that. Michael was a rule follower at heart and climbing out a window to leave in secret was distinctly unlike him. Emma, for all her impulsivity, had never snuck out, not really. Even when she decided to go to Dena's on a whim, she usually told Kate or Gabriel, and on the few occasions when she didn't, she left a note telling them where she was going. And she always left out the front or back door, never seeing the need to climb out a window. 

Yet the evidence was clear, and Gabriel, like Kate, couldn't deny the truth. 

"Maybe they just went to Granny Peet's place," he said, but his tone was halfhearted and Kate could tell he didn't really believe that.

"They wouldn't have to sneak out to do that," she reasoned, "they'd just tell us and then go."

"Yeah." Gabriel sighed heavily. "Yeah, you're right. If they left like this, they must not have wanted us to know where they were going. Which means they're probably doing something neither of us would approve of."

"What would they be doing at this hour, right before dinner, though?" Kate wondered, staring out at the sky. The sun was setting, and it'd be dark out, and even colder, soon.

"I dunno," Gabriel said grimly. "But we'll find out when we find them. C'mon, let's go hop in the truck and drive around town. With any luck, they didn't leave long ago and haven't gotten far."

Kate nodded, and followed him out of the bedroom. There was an anxious feeling in her stomach, but she told herself it was nothing, it was just the trauma of her parents' disappearance impacting her judgement. She told herself that Michael and Emma were just out doing some nonsense like going to the ice cream shop on a whim and spoiling their dinners, and that she and Gabriel would find them within the hour. 

Kate went to grab her coat and shoes, while Gabriel moved to turn off the music and retrieve his keys. As he moved towards the kitchen, she heard him mutter, "and here I thought I wasn't gonna have to ground anyone today..."

Chapter Text

In Emma's defense, she truly didn't intend on climbing out a window to leave the house without anyone noticing. But, as she unpacked her bookbag, intending on throwing her homework on the bed so if someone came into the room she could fake working on it, instead of doing what she normally did, procrastinating by watching videos of dogs wearing silly outfits, she realized that something was missing, something that (unfortunately) was not her homework. No, this was actually important, and, even as she rooted through her bag like a starving animal, she felt a wave of panic crash over her. When it became clear that her backpack would not and could not give her what she was looking for, Emma knew what must have happened. And, after a solid ten minutes of frantic pacing, she finally decided there was only one way to solve this problem. 

After snagging a flashlight from her bedside drawer, she slid Kate's windowpane up, then did the same with the screen, so there was just open air, like a gaping hole in a line of teeth. Then she used the trunk, which, conveniently for her, was already kept under the window, to boost herself up until she was sitting crooked in the opening, legs dangling out into the chilly evening. 

Here goes nothing, she thought, before sliding herself through the gap and landing, with only a slight stumble, in the dry grass a few feet below. 

Emma brushed her hands off on her jeans and laughed a bit. She'd never snuck out before. Hopefully, she'd never have to again. Hopefully she'd be back in twenty minutes or so, clambering back through the window with no one the wiser of her little escapade-

"Emma! What the hell?" 

"Fuck!" She jumped and whirled around to find her brother poking his head out the window, looking at her as if she was crazy. (To be fair, he often looked at her in such a manner, but this was somehow more intense than what even she was used to.) "You almost gave me a heart attack, dumbass!"

"What are you doing?" Michael questioned, completely ignoring her name-calling. 

Emma rolled her eyes. "Doing my best lion jumping through a hoop at the circus impersonation. Honestly, Michael, what does it look like I'm doing?"

His expression was full of righteous indignance, the kind that she and she alone could inspire in him. "You're sneaking out."

"Took you long enough to figure it out, genius."

"Okay but why are you climbing out a window to sneak out? Did Gabriel say you're grounded again? Are you going to Dena's?"

"No, I'm not grounded and I'm not going to Dena's," she hissed. "I dropped somethin' while walking home and I'm gonna go grab it, that's all. No need for you to be so dramatic."

"I'm not dramatic," he protested, "I just know a bullshit story when I hear one. If you were looking for something you dropped, you wouldn't be sneaking out. You'd either be making Gabriel drive you to go get it so you don't have to walk in the cold or, if what you lost is homework, you'd leave it lost so you don't have to do it."

"Well this isn't homework, an' it ain't something Gabriel's gotta know about either," Emma said with a snarl.

"What do you have that Gabriel can't know about?"

"None of your business."

"It is my business if you don't want me to tell him you're sneaking out."

She narrowed her eyes. "You wouldn't."

"Of course I would!" He exclaimed, and she knew that he was right. Michael was not only a rule follower, he was a snitch. It was the one of the things that annoyed her the most about him. "Especially if you have something you aren't supposed to have, like something stolen or-"

"It's nothing stolen or bad," Emma cut him off. "Just secret. Y'know how Granny Peet just collects old junk sometimes?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, last weekend when I was over there I found this old brass pocket watch that was real neat, an' I asked her if I could have it. She said sure, 'cause she isn't using it or anything, she's got a wristwatch and shit. I took it and I'm gonna give it to Kate for her birthday. I think she'd really like it; she's into history and all. Since it's old, the watch wasn't working, so after school today I popped into Stephano's, that weird little antique shop. They got it fixed up in like twenty minutes, which was nice. But-"

"It fell out of your bag on your way home 'cause you never zip it all the way," Michael finished.

"Exactly. See, it's nothing bad, it's just important."

Michael frowned. "But that doesn't explain why you can't tell Gabriel what happened. He can keep a secret for Kate's birthday, and he can help you find it-"

"No." She shook her head quickly. Too quickly. Suspicion emanated from every inch of Michael and it put her even more on the defensive. She put on her best scowl. "Look, I'll be back in 20 minutes. Gabriel will never know I'm gone."

"Wait," he exclaimed, but Emma was done waiting. She turned on heel and began stalking away, figuring that if Michael ratted her out for this, she'd just make something up. Granted, Gabriel would probably figure out she was lying and ground her for it and the climbing out of a window thing, but he wouldn't know how she was deliberately disobeying him, and-

There was a short cry of pain and Emma once again found herself whirling around. Michael had climbed out the window after her, then fallen on his ass in the process. Wincing, he got to his feet, even as she stomped over to him and poked him in the arm.

"What are you doing?" She demanded to know.

"Coming with you, duh," he replied.

"No you're not," Emma said.

"Yes, actually, I am. Because if you don't let me come with you and see why you're sneaking out, I'll run and get Gabriel right now."

"I ain't scared of that."

"And I'll tell Ms. Von Klappen that I saw you and Dena put that garlic in her office vents."

Emma's eyebrows furrowed deep. "You didn't see that, though."

"Yeah, but I know you did it, and I know I'm enough of a teacher's pet that she'll believe me, since she already suspects you," Michael said smugly. "It'll be several days of detention, at least, considering how strict she is."

She was seriously debating punching him, but he'd probably just tattle on her for that, too. "And if I do take you? How do I know you're not just gonna tell Gabriel everything as soon as we get back?"

"I don't want to be grounded for sneaking out, as a start," Michael said. "But also, I see no need to tell him anything about this if, say, you took over one of my chores - doing the dishes, I think - for the next two weeks."

Emma glowered at him. "You blackmailing shithead."

"Extorting shithead," he corrected. "It sounds more professional."

"I'm gonna put a fucking tarantula in your underwear drawer for this," she grumbled under her breath.

"What was that?" Michael asked, tone condescending. Oh, she was so getting him back for this, she just didn't know how yet.

"I said you can come!" Emma snapped, and Michael smiled sanguinely at her in response.

"Great. Let's get going."

"Wait... that's Dr. Pym's place!"

"Duh," Emma said. "I know you wear glasses an' all, but I didn't realize your eyes were this shitty."

Michael ignored her jab, his voice becoming high and reedy. "Gabriel says we aren't allowed to cut through his backyard anymore!"

"Yes," she said slowly, as though she was talking to a toddler, specifically a toddler with the biggest fucking high horse she had encountered in her fourteen years of living, "that's why I had to sneak out, so Gabriel didn't find out I was back here."

"How often-"

"Only when I'm running late, or when I'm coming back from practice, or no one's walking with me," Emma said with a shrug. "So a couple times a week."

"A couple times a week!" Michael's gasp was almost comically offended, and Emma found herself rolling her eyes once again.

Last autumn, she had discovered (and showed her siblings) that they could shave five entire minutes off their walk home from school (Gabriel took them to school each morning on his way to work) if they cut through old Stanislaus Pym's property. Dr. Pym was a quirky man in his late seventies or early eighties, he was a retired principle, heavily involved in the community, and he had a friendly rivalry with Granny Peet over who had the better holiday decorations, a battle that Granny consistently won. Dr. Pym was always nice to the Wibberlys, and Gabriel held nothing against him. His property on the other hand, well...

Dr. Pym possessed a neat little house with an enormous yard that, like Gabriel's, was tucked at the edge of the woods. However, where Gabriel maintained his property with diligence, clearing out poison ivy, excessive tangles of thorny vines, and invasive plants, Dr. Pym did not. His yard was consumed by bushes and brush, leading to several incidents of torn pants and bloody cuts, and after one memorable October afternoon when the Wibberly siblings came home with dirty clothes, having hauled Michael out of the tangled mass when he tripped and fell into some brambles - he had scratches and splinters all over his arms and hands, and it was a wonder the children had managed to avoid contracting poison ivy in the mess - they'd been banned from traipsing through there.

Emma, had, of course, ignored his order. She loved Gabriel, truly, and she knew he just wanted to keep them safe and their possessions undamaged. But she wasn't a klutz like Michael, and she'd been hiking with her godfather for her whole life, so avoiding scrapes and rashes was easy. To save time, she'd take the shortcut, no one being the wiser about it, and there'd never been any problem... until today, when she'd somehow missed seeing a root, stumbled, avoided taking any damage, but lost Kate's present in the one place where she was definitely not supposed to be.

"Honestly, Emma, you just have to cause problems on purpose, don't y- Hey! Wait up!"

She ignored him and waded into the brush, pulling the flashlight from her pocket and clicking it on. Emma waved the ray of light across ground and brambles, looking for the telltale glint of brass. Michael scrambled after her, stumbling around clumps of poison ivy, thorns catching on the edges of his jeans. 

"There!" Michael exclaimed eagerly. 

Emma carefully stepped over a shrub, then bent down and found, tucked among leaves and dry grass, the shiny brass pocket watch. She slipped it into the pocket of her sweatshirt and turned to grin cockily at her brother.

"See? Easy. I told you this wasn't a big deal."

Michael rolled his eyes. "Great. Let's head home."

Emma was prepared to do just that, when, somewhere nearby, there was a loud crunch. Michael jumped at the sound.

"What the hell?"

"It's probably just a deer or something," Emma reassured him as she high-stepped back to his side. The rustling of the forest continued all the while. "No need to scream about it."

"I'm not screaming about it," Michael scoffed. "I just-"

He froze, eyes going wide. Emma followed his stare and saw a shadow, long and dark and vaguely person-shaped, cutting towards them like a shark through the water.

Ok, that was definitely not a deer. Emma pointed the flashlight towards the shadow but didn't see what was casting it. "Dr. Pym?" She called towards the tree line. "Is that you? It's me, Emma Wibberly... Michael's here too. We're not trespassing, honest, I just dropped somethin' earlier and we came to grab it..."

The only response was the eerie creak of the wind.

"Dr. Pym," Emma said again, less confident this time. There was a long pause, and then the shadow split into two, then three, then four. Like a cell duplicating itself over and over. Like uber-advanced cloning in the sort of shitty sci-fi movie Dena loved to watch. "What the fuck?" She asked, feeling fear, not the Gabriel's gonna ground me type, but proper, mortal danger fear.

"What have you gotten me into?" Michael questioned. He sounded on the verge of panic.

"You were the one who insisted on coming along," she spat vehemently - when she was scared, she got mean, she always had, and tonight was no exception. 

He probably would have argued with her more, under other circumstances. Arguing was what the two were known for among their peers; they could argue about almost anything, no matter the situation. Home, school, the doctor's office, even waiting to meet with a police officer about their parents' disappearance - all of it was fair game to Michael and Emma. But as they watched the shadowy figures emerge from the trees and into the dying dusk, as well as the beam of the flashlight, they found themselves incapable of it.

The creatures - and they were creatures, for though they had a humanoid shape, they were obviously not people - were tall and lanky, almost emaciated, with rotting skin and open sores. Their eyes were sickly yellow and shone, catlike and slitted, in the artificial light. They wore ragged tunics and scraps of black fabric wrapped around their heads. Their gait was jerky and unnatural, like their limbs weren't attached right. 

"Holy shit!" Emma yelled, even as she and Michael, for once in perfect agreement, turned and began to sprint.

The four monsters pursued them with surprising speed, trampling through hostile plants as though it was nothing, while the brother and sister found themselves stumbling. The flashlight flew from Emma's hand as they fled for their lives, landing somewhere in the brush and going out, leaving them with only the last vestiges of the sunset for light. 

Emma (who had always been the most athletic Wibberly) was in the lead, but she was keenly aware that Michael, his adrenaline overcoming his usual lack of speed, was right on her heels. They had to get back home, she thought, even as her muscles began to burn. They had to get back home and barricade themselves inside and tell Gabriel to get the hatchet he used to chop firewood for Granny Peet and-

As one, the monsters let out a terrible shriek, one that made her feel as though her blood had turned to ice. 

Her foot caught on a root and she went tumbling, face first, into the dirt and the bushes. Dull pain shot through her knees and arms, where she made impact, and twigs scratched at her face.

"Emma!" Michael nearly ran past her, panting heavily, tears running down his face. (Emma didn't think she'd blame him if he did leave her here. The spooky stories Granny Peet would tell her had all come rushing back with that horrific scream, and she had realized what they were dealing with. Morum Cadi, or Screechers; one of the types monsters that the locals believed prowled the woods and terrified the town. Creatures created from dark magic, that served the Dire Magnus, the boogeyman in every story from these parts. Be careful, else he'll snatch you up and your remains will never be found, people said. Even brash Dena and her sarcastic brother Lee echoed such warnings. Emma had never treated them as anything but a story, though, not until this bone-chilling moment.)

Yet, despite their pursuers, Michael stopped. He turned around and dashed to her side, grabbing her with both hands and helping her to her shaky feet. Sweat rolled down his face and his glasses balanced precariously on his nose, and he was trembling. He was horror-struck. But he was also here, he wasn't leaving her. That meant something. For a single moment, it meant everything.

Then, multiple sets of clammy hands seized them, and both teenagers were half dragged and half carried away, towards the woods.

Michael was hyperventilating as it happened. Emma was trying to be strong, for his sake, for her own. She was trying to summon the courage she was known for, to spit curses as she kicked and twisted her way free of the Screechers' grips. But her attempts at fighting were halfhearted, her cuss words came out as garbled nonsense, diluted by the shock. This couldn't be happening, not now, not to them!

(Had she been in a less frenzied and more contemplative state of mind, she might have wondered if her parents thought that very same thing, the night they vanished and upended their family forever. She might have wondered about her sister and godfather, about what this second upending would do. She might even have considered whether being pulled away from loved ones against your will was hereditary, if it ran in the blood, if this was a circular thing. As it was, all she could think about was how her heart was racing so fast she thought it would explode, how there were so many screams in the back of her throat she might just choke on them.)

They were carried off into the trees, the forest quickly closing around them, dark and unforgiving. Michael began to sob, and Emma felt tears beginning to well in her own eyes. "Oh my god," she said, over and over again. "Oh my god."

"There are no gods that can help you now, girl," said an unfamiliar voice from the gloom, tone ice-cold and stone-hard. It was a voice that had goosebumps raising on the backs of both Wibberlys necks. "Your only mercy will come from doing exactly as I say."

Chapter Text

It didn't take long for anxiety to turn into full-blown-panic. Kate and Gabriel went to every place they could think of - Dena's place, Sallow's, the soccer field, etcetera. Michael and Emma were nowhere to be found. And when they got home and the two teens weren't waiting for them, it became clear that something was very, very wrong. That was only confirmed when Dr. Pym called. 

The old man told them about how he'd heard strange sounds on his property, how he'd assumed it was Emma (who apparently traipsed through there regularly, to Gabriel's consternation) how there had been screaming. He told them that he'd seen the rotting Morum Cadi dragging two children - Michael and Emma, he was certain of it - into the forest. "He took them," Dr. Pym said solemnly, at the end of the call. "The Dire Magnus has taken them both."

Gabriel and Kate didn't want to believe it. They didn't want to believe any of it, not the Dire Magnus, not the Screechers, and most of all, they didn't want to believe that Michael and Emma were missing. It seemed too purposefully cruel, for the two teenagers to up and vanish in the twilight hours, so similar to how their parents disappeared with no trace over a decade ago. But when Granny Peet, wise Granny Peet, with her knowledge of folk magic and her complete confidence in herself, answered their call and came over, was unnaturally nervous, they knew there was no chance they could just sit here and wait for Michael and Emma to come walking back through the door. And when she confirmed Dr. Pym's insistence to be true, when she confirmed Michael and Emma had indeed been snatched up by magical creatures with dark intent, that was the final nail in the coffin. 

That realization hit them like an oncoming train, but they recovered from the impact quickly. No one could say that Gabriel, experienced park ranger that he was, and Kate, so used to babysitting rambunctious children and shaking down police officers for information, were anything less than pragmatic. They knew the stories, of course; Gabriel had grown up here, was rooted in them, and Kate, though she disliked the obsession with the boogeyman, had always known there had to be some truth, something that kept the people of Cambridge Falls caught in the nightmare's grasp. Both of them knew that there had been over a dozen people who vanished from town over the course of the 1900s and 2000s, that none had ever returned, that no trace had ever been found. Both of them knew that the rest of the town wouldn't go looking for the missing. They never did. And both of them knew that they would not allow themselves to be pulled into that pattern, they would not give up, like so many others did, they would not be cowed. Not when it was Michael and Emma, who they loved more than life, who they had spent their whole lives protecting, in danger. 

They didn't sleep. They spent the whole night packing Gabriel's sturdy bags, stuffing extra clothes, nonperishable foods, copious water bottles, a first aid kid, a sewing kit, a box of matches, and whatnot into every pocket there was. They gathered up their coats and gloves and hats - a knit cap for Kate, a red felt thing with a pom-pom on top (a gift from Emma, of course) for Gabriel - as if armoring up for a medieval battle. Gabriel slipped a coffee mug into his bag, for no other reason than it gave him comfort. Kate clutched her locket with one hand and slid her binder of investigative work, the summation of 10 years worth of researching her parents' case, into her backpack with the other. It probably wouldn't be useful; it was more journalism than magical research, after all. But just in case she needed to collect evidence or something worse (she wouldn't dare think of what that something worse could be) she wanted the guideline with her. 

Finally, as the sun crested over the mountain and bathed the valley in cool, distant brightness, Gabriel wordlessly handed Kate a switchblade hunting knife. She studied the gleaming silver edge, sharp as the light itself, before flipping the blade back into the handle and pocketing it in her sturdy green coat. And as she did that, Gabriel retrieved a hatchet from the shed, wrapped it in canvas, and strapped it to his bag. 

The plan was to head out immediately, to waste no time in searching for their missing loved ones. 

That plan was quickly ruined by Dr. Pym having called on others after freaking out last night, and, of course, the natural small town propensity for gossip. 

There was a line of cars and people outside of the Wibberly-Tessouat household. Gabriel and Kate found themselves swarmed with well-meaning people holding casserole dishes and cloying sympathy. Buzzing around them like flies on carrion. 

"We're so, so sorry to hear what happened," Abraham said profusely, as Miss Sallow thrust a lasagna into Gabriel's arms. 

The McClatterys, Stephen and Annie, offered up a strawberry shortcake, their eyes teary. 

Other shopkeepers like Kate's boss, Mr. Chu, or Stephano down at the antiques store, patted shoulders and offered assistance, whatever you need. Teachers from the high school fretted, and no one said a negative word about Michael being a know-it-all or Emma being trouble, not even Magda Von Klappen, though her eyes betrayed her, made it clear she thought the pair had brought this upon themselves. 

Emma's best friend Dena and her older brother Lee lead the pack of kids, some from Emma's soccer team, some Michael and Kate's classmates, come to worry, come to cry, come to not do anything. Even Dena, so fierce and free, lamented Emma's disappearance as if she were already mourning a certain death. As if she felt there was no chance of saving her friend. 

It was all well-meaning and it was all overwhelming and it was all, above everything else, infuriating. Which was why it was almost - almost - a relief when a loud, rough voice cut through the murmurs of the gathered crowd. 

"Oi! Move over, give 'em some space, lemme through!" Mayor Rourke's giant, broad frame, capped with his bald head like a great white stone, parted the sea of neighbors with ease. Gabriel's already irritated expression grew darker at the sight of the man. 

"Rourke," he said, tone clipped. "What're you doing here? Trying to turn my family's pain into a campaign event?"

"Now now Mr. Tessouat, none 'a that, please. I came to pay my respects, that's all," the other man said. 

Kate had to grab her guardian's arm tight, fearful that if she didn't he might decide to crack the mayor's head open like an egg. And while she didn't personally disapprove of such a thing, the last thing they needed when trying to rescue Michael and Emma from the town's most hated monster was Gabriel getting thrown in jail for assault.

His teeth gritted. "Ain't no need to pay respects. Michael and Emma aren't dead."

Rourke looked at him with a bland, slightly pitying look. The sort that suggested he thought Gabriel was in denial. The crowd around them began murmuring again, confused at what was going on.

"They aren't, Mr. Mayor," Kate said and her voice was calm and cold. The same one she used with the cops, when they acted dismissive of her parents' case. "They're out there, and we're going to go bring them home."

That had Rourke's eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "You can't do that."

"That a law? Because I know you haven't had time to get the council to pass it," Gabriel sneered.

Rourke sighed. "Lad, no one who goes in search a' the Dire Magnus comes back. You know that."

He did know that, as did Kate, but the latter was surprised to hear the mayor say it. He wasn't a Cambridge Falls native, after all. He'd been born in Ireland, he moved to Florida in his early 20s, got involved with property development, then moved up north to the Falls about 10 years ago, becoming the mayor in the election three springs ago. To hear him talking about the Dire Magnus with such concern and trepidation was surprising. He didn't seem the type to get caught up in local lore. (There were rumors the initial move here was spurred by being investigated for fraud in Florida, which Gabriel believed to be true, but no one knew for sure. Even if they did know, it might not have mattered in the mayoral election - Rourke promised to fix the broken roads, to give money to the library, to meet with the council more than once a month. Despite the fact that he was a charisma-lacking lug, his ideas had appealed to the citizens.) 

"Well then we'll just have to be the first ones to come back, because we're going after Michael and Emma. You can't stop us," Gabriel retorted. Kate squeezed his arm tight; it was a rare thing, for patient, fatherly Gabriel to take on such a knife-sharp tone. 

"You're gonna get yourself killed," Rourke said. "All for two kids who are probably dead by now."

Someone - Dena, maybe - gasped. Gabriel tensed, ready to lunge at the man if he said a word more. But Kate stepped in front of him before he could. "Those two kids are my siblings. They're our family. And I don't believe they're..." She paused. Even saying the word was too painful. "I'd rather walk to my doom than sit back and let them slip through my fingers."

She would not be another inactive townsperson, mourning what wasn't yet lost forever. She would not live a life without her brother and sister. 

Rourke scowled at her. He was about to say something, probably something awful, as was his nature, when a huffing old man carrying a large cardboard box came pushing through the crowd and to the mayor's side.

"Mayor Rourke," wheezed Dr. Pym. "I must speak to Gabriel and Katherine immediately."

Rourke whirled on the former principal. "Has everyone gone crazy today?" He questioned loudly. 

"Mayor," Dr. Pym repeated, and the giant man acquiesced. Dr. Pym gestured and shouted to the crowd, and they began departing along with the mayor, muttering all the while, evidently shaken by the declaration of Kate and Gabriel's intent to stage a rescue mission. Only Dena bid them farewell, looking Kate in the eyes as she did so.

"Good luck," the girl said, before jogging after Lee.

As the townsfolk meandered to their cars, Gabriel and Kate were ushered into their own kitchen by a determined Dr. Pym. They put the various dishes offered by neighbors away while he set the box on the counter and then turned to them, tortoise-shell glasses glinting in the light. (He was an odd man, Stanislaus Pym. He looked a mess, most of the time, and his grandfatherly and bumbling demeanor made him seem rather silly. But he was also a well traveled man in his early 80s; he'd been raised in the town, then went on to studying higher education out of state, and traveling to interesting locales to learn about culture and mythology. When he returned to his home, more superstitious than ever, and took up the role of principal, he quickly gained a measure of respect. He was a member of the town council, perhaps the most influential member, and the closest thing to a priest the folk-religion of their little village had. No one in town took the threat of the Dire Magnus as seriously as Dr. Pym, that was for sure.)

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to venture into the forest. Your adversary is very dangerous, and the war he wages on our town is brutal, likely to consume you both," he began, holding up a hand when both the man and the young woman tried to protest. "But I also had a feeling you would not agree to abandon your plan, and I could never forgive myself if I sent you in blind."

"Alright," replied Gabriel slowly. "We're listening."

Dr. Pym offered the pair a tight smile and began pulling items from his box. The first was a bolt of thin gray fabric, shimmering in the dim kitchen light like quicksilver. "A friend's been supplying me with this since I was young; I've kept copious amounts of it in my home for years, as a safety precaution," the old man explained, "the runes woven into the fabric with my friend's thread is supposed to block any spells being cast. I'm not sure how effective it'll be against a creature as powerful as the Dire Magnus, but it's better than nothing."

Kate and Gabriel exchanged looks of skepticism, but came to the silent agreement that it would be counterproductive to question Pym on whether this supposed defensive power had been tested or not. It wasn't as though the answer would change their plans, after all.

"That's very kind of you," Kate said measuredly, taking the long stretch of gauzy material and cramming it into her backpack. 

"I've gathered plenty of it through the years, I can certainly spare some now," Dr. Pym said. "I also brought you this."

He offered up round silver case, folded over. When Gabriel flipped the lid up, it revealed a small compact mirror. He raised an eyebrow at the old man, unamused.

"It has an exact match, which is tucked away at my house," Pym said quickly. "I acquired the set twenty years ago, while on vacation in Europe. They were being sold by an antiques collector and practitioner of alchemy. The mirrors can contact each other, easy as a live feed video going both ways - that is proven, by the way, I tested them myself. You can borrow this one, just in case you need to get in touch with me and everyone else in town. I can't promise we'll be able to do anything, if you find yourself in peril, but..."

Gabriel nodded, closed the lid, and pocketed the mirror. "Do you just collect enchanted objects or something?" He couldn't help but question.

Dr. Pym shrugged. "Somewhat. I certainly find them interesting, but I don't go seeking them out. The fabric I came upon by happenstance after making the right friend at the right time. The mirrors, though... On my trip, I encountered a fortune teller who insisted I go and seek them out. He predicted they would someday be important in defeating a great evil."

"You believed him, then?"

"I did," Dr. Pym confirmed. "I hadn't told him anything about my home and its history; he had no way of knowing just how wicked a monster plagues our town. So I bought the mirrors, thinking they might help in the battle to stave off the Dire Magnus. Now I'll finally put them to use, in the hopes of keeping you two, and Michael and Emma, alive."

His tone was solemn; he couldn't even fake optimism for their quest. That was alright. Kate and Gabriel already knew it would be dangerous. They didn't need Pym to explain that part to them.

"Well, thank you," Gabriel said. "Is there anything else you wanted to say? I'd really like to get this show on the road."

Dr. Pym nodded. "There is one more thing; I was wondering if I may draw a ritualistic circle on you both. My research into mythology suggests it helps ward off evil, and where you're going, you'll need all the help you can get."

Once again, the man and the girl exchanged glances. The latter shrugged. "Sure, Dr. Pym. Do what you want, it can't hurt."

He pulled a piece of chalk from the box and had the pair place their hands on the kitchen counter. He proceeded to draw a complex circular design, full of interlocking lines and connected rings, on the backs of their hand. The chalk stood out, stark and white, against the brown of Gabriel's skin, creasing over the weathered nature of his broad appendage after a life spent outdoors. On Kate's hand, smaller and paler, it was less visible. 

For a moment, the three of them were all still, just standing in the kitchen, letting the chalk seep into the skin, hopefully carrying with it protections against evil. Then the minute passed and Dr. Pym wiped away the residuals of his little ritual. 

"I hope that helps," he said seriously, as Kate and Gabriel brushed the dust off their hands. "I hope it all helps."

"That'd be nice," Gabriel agreed with a heavy sigh. 

"Have you ever... created this design... before?" Kate wondered aloud to the old man.

Dr. Pym's already sorrowful expression became even more glum. "Once."

"Did it do anything?" She pressed.

"Not enough," he admitted. "By the time I did the ritual, it was too late. Evil had already gotten in."

Kate didn't know what to say to that. Neither did Gabriel. (Both were hanging on by a thread as it was, especially now that Pym's sad gaze was fixed on them, and it was clear that he, like the rest of the town, thought their efforts futile. Though he offered what help he could, he already expected to fail. He too was already mourning what had yet to be lost.)

"Thank you, Stanislaus," Gabriel finally broke the silence. 

"I hope it all helps," the old man repeated. He stroked his scraggly beard in a contemplative way. "I still think this is a terrible idea, one that will likely put you on the path to ruin. But if you insist on taking up this quest, I want you to have as good a chance at coming back as you'll ever get."

"Michael and Emma are out there," Kate said. "Terrible idea or not, we're going after them."

"I know, Katherine."

"We'll come back. We'll bring them home," Gabriel said firmly. Whether he was trying to assuage the doubts of Dr. Pym, the worries of Kate, or his own terror at the thought of Michael and Emma in danger was unclear. Maybe it was all three at once. 

"I hope you're right," Dr. Pym said, before taking his cardboard box and his nub of chalk and slipping out the door far quieter than he'd arrived. Kate and Gabriel both watched him go, twin looks of determination and stress written across their faces.

"We have to be right," Kate murmured, more to herself than anything. "If we're wrong..."

If they were wrong they risked losing their lives. If they were wrong they risked losing Michael and Emma's lives, which was even more terrifying. 

"I know, kiddo," Gabriel said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. The warm weight of it felt, to Kate, to be far more effective at warding away evil than any of Dr. Pym's sigils could ever be. "Now, grab your things."

"Time to head into the woods?"

"Almost. We have one more thing to do before we set out."

"Yeah? And what's that?"

"We're headed to Granny Peet's."

Chapter Text

Granny Peet's home was small, old, and one of the most comforting places in the entire world, at least according to Gabriel. She'd taken him in when he was a pre-teen, despite having already been getting on in years back then, after his parents died in a car crash on a mountainous road. He'd spent his teenage years living there, sleeping on the pullout-couch and learning both how to cook and how to care for others by Granny's side. In her kitchen, packed with drying herbs and potted plants, hand-scrawled recipes and brewing broths that perfumed the air with the smell of spices and meat, he had always felt wholly safe. 

Now, for the first time, he stood in this place of sanctuary and paced, frightened. Though the smell of the rosemary Granny was drying by the window managed to ease some of the stiffness from his shoulders, it was not enough to banish the bone-deep worry over Michael and Emma's wellbeing. Were they unharmed, wherever they were? Had they been separated or were they still together? Were they every bit as afraid as he was?

"Gabriel," Granny Peet said, kind but stern, "I love you very much, and I understand your fear, but please, stop stomping about. You're shaking the cabinets, and you're bound to knock something over if you keep it up. I'd rather not have to deal with a broken cast iron skillet, thank you."

He scowled, but did as the old woman said, pausing his pacing in favor of leaning against the counter, looking at Granny and Kate, who were seated at the ancient kitchen table. The two were carefully packing bottles and tins in Kate's backpack, all containing the homemade remedies that Granny Peet was well know for. 

(If Dr. Pym was the spiritual authority of Cambridge Falls, their own personal brand of priest, Granny Peet was the local witch doctor - though she preferred to be called a wisewoman. She was incredibly knowledgeable about medicinal plants, and she was also reputed to commune with some of the preternatural forces in the forest. She created remedies and healed injuries, and it was well known among these parts that if you were in a pinch and couldn't get out of town to the hospital, your best option was Granny Peet.)

"You've got tinctures for skin irritation and sprains, a potion to combat ingested toxins - might be useful for fending off evil spells, too - a salve for cuts, some extra herbs in event of breathing problems or concussions, and bandages; I know you've packed some of those yourself, but you can never have too many," Granny Peet told Gabriel as Kate zipped up her bag.

"Thank you," Gabriel said, and he could feel his prickly mood softening. After the morning he'd had, being inundated with the passiveness and pity of the townsfolk, the desperation of Dr. Pym, the way everyone was already talking about the children like they were lost forever, and the mere existence of Declan fucking Rourke, he had been feeling particularly temperamental. But here was Granny Peet, who had always looked out for him, who now looked out for his children, who was the one person besides himself and Kate who would not give up on Michael and Emma. "You're truly the best."

"I know," Granny said, voice soft and kind where it usually would've been proud and wry. She reached over the table and took Kate's hand. "If I were younger, I'd go with you two in a heartbeat, but..."

She sighed and glanced down at herself. Though the old woman had one of the keenest minds in the world, though her soul was that of a warrior's, she was still confined by the limits of her body. She had retained her arm strength and deft hands through the years, but she also had developed aching knees and back pain, limiting her mobility. (If she could, she would traipse through the woods and fend off monsters with just her incantations, her knowledge of herbs, and some well timed blows of her frying pan, but she couldn't do that. She would only slow Gabriel and Kate down. So instead of accompanying them, Granny Peet settled for preparing them.)

"You're doing more than enough," Kate reassured her adoptive grandmother. "Besides, someone has to keep an eye on the town while Gabriel and I are gone."

Gabriel couldn't help but manage a crooked smile at that, even if it didn't quite meet his eyes. "Yeah. Someone's gotta be here to call Rourke a dumb motherfucker to his face when I can't do it." 

Granny Peet snorted. "Is that what you do?"

"It keeps him humble."

"Well, if it's for a good cause, I'm sure I can manage." The old woman finally grinned her wry grin, the one that put her family at ease and made arrogant fools squirm uncomfortably. "In fact, since it's so important to you, I might get that girl Dena in on it. Give her something to do with herself."

"Thanks Granny," said Gabriel, sincerely as he possibly could. He wasn't just thanking her for watching his home while he was away, and they all knew it.

"Yeah, thanks," Kate echoed. She moved to hug the old woman. "It means the world to know you haven't given up on us."

"I'd never," Granny Peet promised. Then she pulled back from Kate's embrace and sighed heavily. "I'm guessing the rest of the town is singing a different tune, though."

"Got it in one," Gabriel said bitterly, rubbing at his eye. 

"They seem to think Michael and Emma are already lost," Kate added.

Granny Peet pursed her lips and ran a gnarled hand gently over the teenager's hair in a fond manner. "They fear the magic responsible for taking your brother and sister. They fear it so much that they've resigned themselves to this. Through the years it has just become another awful fact of life, one they're too frightened to even think of changing."

Gabriel sighed and agreed. "They're all petrified of the Dire Magnus and it rules their lives."

The wisewoman nodded. "Yes, exactly. And I understand why they are so scared; though I can protect myself, though his reach has never darkened my doorstep, though I hold no fear, even I must acknowledge that the Dire Magnus is a being of great power. What are ordinary townspeople with ordinary lives to do in the face of such might?"

"I don't know," Kate said softly. "Something. Anything. It might not work, but they should try..."

"I agree. Unfortunately, sweet girl, taking action in the face of insurmountable odds require an uncommon sort of strength, one that very few possess the way Gabriel and you Wibberlys do."

The trio fell into silence after that, completing their packing and zipping up bags with nary a word. It was only once everything was in order that Gabriel broke through the quiet, voice rough and contemplative.

"Granny, you've known Dr. Pym for a while, have you not?"

"Stanislaus, sure. We're both Fallsians, born an' raised, and though we didn't run in the same circles in our youth, we've existed as neighbors for a long time now," Granny Peet answered. "Why do you ask?"

Gabriel explained, with a bit of assistance from Kate, how the old man had come to their home in hopes of providing them with magical protections for their journey. They showed her the protective cloth - which she speculated was legitimate, though how effective it would be, she couldn't tell - and the enchanted mirror, which she believed would work as Pym had insisted. Finally, they told her about the rune circles he had etched upon their skin with chalk.

"When we asked him if he'd done such a ritual before, he claimed he'd done it once. When we asked him if it worked, he said he did it too late for it to be effective. I was wondering if you knew what that meant," Gabriel finished.

Granny Peet's bushy eyebrows shot up expressively. "I do indeed know what it meant; I'm surprised you didn't. I thought it was common knowledge around town..."

"What's common knowledge around town, Granny?" Kate questioned.

"Many years ago - this would be before you and your siblings came to live with Gabriel - creatures controlled by the Dire Magnus nearly stole away another townsperson, but they failed. It is, to my knowledge, the only time someone came so close to this fate but managed to escape," Granny explained. "However, it came at a cost; the stain of dark magic provoked terrible nightmares, ones that Stanislaus tried to banish with one of his sigils. He was, as he said, unable to rid Mr. Algernon of the power that had already taken root."

Gabriel and Kate both gaped at her. "Mr. Algernon? You mean Hugo, down the road, with the goats?" The former exclaimed.

She nodded. "The very same. Hugo escaped the forces of darkness by a hairsbreadth, apparently hiding in a shed all night so that they could not find and take him away. How that worked, I have no idea, but it did. Of course, the poor man had no idea what would happen next, the nightmares, the taking ill... He never put much stock in Stanislaus's beliefs, and indeed, the two had a bit of a feud going back when they still worked for the school system together - though I do believe Hugo loathed Magda Von Klappen even more so -"

"He still loathes her," Kate interrupted. "He told Michael one day that she's the worst and that she doesn't even get the honor of a particularly ridiculous goat being named for her, unlike Dr. Pym."

Granny smiled, a little sadly, at that. "Sounds about right for Hugo. Anyways, like I said, he never had much faith in Stanislaus, but he was desperate to regain normalcy in the aftermath of the thwarted attack. That's why he asked for the ritual to be performed. Evidently, it didn't work, and poor Hugo would up retiring and becoming something of a recluse. You've seen how much he keeps to himself, these days, I'm sure."

"We have," Gabriel confirmed.

"Well, it's in part because of his poor health after the encounter with dark forces. He's recovered some more recently, though - I'll make sleeping droughts for him at times, and those seem to help - and he's certainly drinking less. Poor man was engaged in some very unhealthy habits ten years ago..."

Kate and Gabriel exchanged glances as the old woman trailed off. Their expressions were grim. Hugo Algernon had escaped being taken by the monsters in the forest, and yet he was still impacted so drastically. What horrors were being wrought upon those who actually were stolen away? What were Michael and Emma going through.

"Oh my," Granny Peet said, dismayed. "I've frightened you. I'm sorry."

"It's fine, Granny," Gabriel replied wearily. "I'd rather have all the information before setting out, you know that."

She nodded slowly. "Be careful, both of you. Though I know very well how courageous and clever you are, I'll still be worried every moment you're gone."

"We'll return," Gabriel promised. 

"I'm counting on it," Granny Peet said as she pulled him into a fierce embrace. Gabriel wrapped his arms tight around the short old woman, allowing himself to indulge, for a moment, in the safe feeling of her apron's fabric brushing against his hands and the familiar smell of the herbs she was always working with. "You and all three of your kids had better return to me safe, else I'll be mighty mad, you hear."

"Loud and clear. I will be back, with the children at my side."

"Good. Anything less is unacceptable."

Yes, Gabriel thought grimly. It certainly was.

"Thank you for everything, Granny," said Kate, giving her adoptive grandmother yet another hug. 

Granny Peet held the teenager tight. "No need for thanks, darling. Just keep yourself safe." She glanced slyly at Gabriel, then. "And watch out for that one; he's more troublesome than he thinks he is."

Gabriel rolled his eyes, but there was no heat behind the movement. Kate, for her part, giggled a bit.

"I will, Granny. I will."

The old woman kissed Kate's cheek, then motioned for Gabriel to bend down so she could do the same to him. "I know you are frightened," she whispered to him after doing so. "I know this challenge is greater than anything we ever assumed we would face. But you must stay strong, for you are the son of my heart and I believe in you, Gabriel. Your children believe in you as well."

He swallowed thickly as she released him, overcome by emotion. "Thank you," he rasped. As always, it seemed Granny Peet knew exactly what he needed to hear.

"I love you both," the wisewoman declared, voice firm as stone and kind as a blessing from something divine. "And I have faith in you; you are brave and loyal," she nodded to Gabriel. "Smart and resilient," to Kate, then. "And," she crooked a grin at them as she spoke, "you can focus on the road ahead easily, because you've got an amazing grandmother here in town, ensuring the mayor's life remains a living hell."

Granny Peet sent them out, after that, bags shouldered and hearts renewed by her support. When they stood on her porch and looked at one another, they could manage smiles - small ones, sure, but they were still genuine.

"You ready?" Kate asked.

"As I'll ever be," Gabriel replied. He paused for a second, then said, "Kate, I'd never forgive myself if I didn't at least offer, so if you want to stay here, tell me now and it'll be alright."

(He knew what her answer would be as soon as he spoke, but he had to at least give her the opportunity to back out. She was his kid, it was his job to protect her, yet here he was, preparing to lead her into certain danger. The thought broke his heart.)

"I'm coming with you," Kate said decisively, as he knew she would. (If there was one person in the entire world more likely than any other to walk into the abyss for the sake of those they loved, it was Kate.)

"Right," Gabriel said with a nod. "Then let's get moving."

The wind was cold and sharp against Kate's face as she stepped gingerly across a line of jagged, slippery rocks. The first step to crossing from the ordinary forest to the realm of the Dire Magnus was crossing the Cambridge River. It was running quick, and its waters were icy, and as such Kate and Gabriel's intention was to avoid having to wade through it. 

Gabriel, whose experience as a park ranger fortunately leant itself well to things like fording rivers and tracking trails, had been the one to chart the rocky path across. His heavy boots slid against the rocks as he jumped across. Kate tried to follow in his steps, holding her breath every time she was forced to leap. At one point, she felt as though she was going to topple back into the freezing depths of the river, but Gabriel had reached back and caught her before it could happen, and miraculously, the pair managed to make it to the opposite shore without becoming soaked and frostbitten.

The trees had been packed close together on their side, but here, in the untamed, uncharted part of the forest, they were clustered even tighter. There were no proper hiking trails, only animal footpaths that Gabriel found amongst the dense shrubbery - a deer track in the dirt, a fox's footprint among the underbrush, and so forth. Briars tried to cling to any loose fabric they could prick, and the limbs of evergreen plants smacked against clothing and skin, making everything smell like wintery pinesap.

Kate had asked her guardian how they would know when they'd reached the enchanted land over which the Dire Magnus ruled, and he confessed that he didn't have a clue, but he suspected they would find out when it happened.

They had been walking for two hours, mostly in companionable silence, when the moment arrived. She felt a shiver going up her spine, as if someone - or many someone's, with many eyes - were watching her from within the shadows between the trees. "Do you sense that?" She asked Gabriel, voice low. "I think we're getting there."

"I agree," Gabriel said. "Something in the air here, it's different. Something senses us approaching. Perhaps animals, if those live here. Perhaps the mystical forces, or even the Dire Magnus himself. Be on guard."

"I will," Kate promised. She touched her jacket's pocket, first, feeling the folded up knife secreted away there, before reaching upwards to grasp the locket gifted to her by her mother so many years ago, thumb rubbing across the faded rose etched into the golden sphere. She also glanced over at her friend; he looked strong and resilient, especially with the hatchet strapped to his back. Ready for a fight, as was she.

Gabriel noticed her looking and sighed. "Shame I don't still have the hunting rifles, huh? I'd feel a lot better about facing monsters with 'em."

Kate merely nodded, not wanting to dwell on that thought. 

(Gabriel was a skilled hunter, one who'd been doing it his whole life, and he'd possessed the according gear for many years. But he'd sold his two rifles a few years back, and now if he wanted to hunt he would go with a group and use the supplies of friends and coworkers. After all, while his job as a park ranger provided a good salary, he was still a single parent trying to raise three growing teenagers. Money was tight, and when emergencies came up, measures had to be taken. The car had broken down and Gabriel had used the money from selling his guns to fix it.

It was after that day that Kate first decided to get a job. She had realized, in that moment, that while their family was not impoverished, they were also far from wealthy. She realized that if her family wanted to save money for future purposes, like college tuition or hiring a private investigator to reopen Richard and Clare's case, she would need to take action. Gabriel would never ask her to, of course, but she wanted to help. She needed to help. He couldn't do it on his own, and for him and her siblings, she would get to work.)

"Kate?" Gabriel questioned cautiously. "You alright?"

She shrugged. "I'm worried about Michael and Emma. And I'm wondering what we're going to face when we get to-"

Kate froze, having seen something in her peripheral vision. Gabriel frowned at her. "What's wrong, kiddo?"

"There's something through the trees over there. Something big. It looks like an animal, or... I dunno."

Gabriel squinted at the space where she was pointing, and indeed, there was something there, but he couldn't tell what. "Huh," Gabriel muttered. "C'mon. We'll get closer, but be quiet."

He didn't need to tell Kate twice. She was silent as a mouse while following her friend, taking care not to crunch down upon the foliage or scuff at the dirt. It soon became clear, however, that it was all for naught. Though it was indeed an animal she had spotted across the forest, it was not alive.

The creature was like nothing Kate had ever seen before - nor had Gabriel, even with all the years he'd spent traipsing through and charting the woods around Cambridge Falls. It was vaguely canine, but it was larger than any wolf in the world, closer to the size of a bear. And while alive it must have inspired pulse-pounding fear, as a corpse it brought about spine-chilling eeriness. The bones were mostly picked clean and bleached by the meagre February sun, only a bit of sinew and meat still clinging to them, yet they were not collapsed in the dirt. They were interlocked, the skeleton standing like a propped up dinosaur reconstruction in the museum they'd once gone to for Michael's birthday. Not a single bone, not even a single sharp tooth, was missing. From the canine's jaws, eyesockets, and the hollows of its ribcages came thorny vines, draping and winding around the ribs and jawbones and femurs. Small flowers were just starting to bloom on those vines, pale yellow and unsettlingly cheery.

"What the fuck?" Gabriel muttered, unable to tear his eyes from the bizarre display. 

It had to have been arranged by someone or something, Kate thought to herself. Who that was, she did not know. Nor did she know what, exactly the canine had been, or why its corpse had been arranged into this grotesquely beautiful tableau.

Perhaps it was a warning. Turn back now, stranger, spelled out silently in the hollow pits where the creature's eyes used to sit, here there be monsters, here there be dark things so terrible you cannot put a name to them.

Kate couldn't lie to herself and claim to not be frightened. But she would not turn from the skeleton and run, even as scared as she was. Her siblings needed her. For their sake, she would go on. She and Gabriel would walk into the heart of an uncanny new world, and they would either return with Michael and Emma, or not at all.

She was about to express as much to Gabriel, to encourage him to keep going, when a twig snapped and leaves crackled loudly from somewhere behind the skeleton. The young woman jumped, while Gabriel pulled his hatchet from the makeshift carrier strapped to his back and raised it up, high and threatening. The shrubbery rustled as whatever it was crept closer, and Kate found herself inhaling sharply. Was it a Screecher or some other minion of the Dire Magnus? Was it one of those massive canine monsters, or maybe the thing that had killed the one before her?

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" 

A baseball came rolling out of the underbrush, followed by a child, stumbling over her own feet and cursing fiercely. Kate and Gabriel both gaped, wide-eyed, as she scrambled to grab the ball before straightening up, pocketing it, and looking at them from over the top of the array of bones.

She was short and stocky, and looked to be around Emma's age, or maybe a little younger. She had tan skin and dark brown eyes, and strange lines like the patterns of a cedar tree's bark marring her cheeks and hands. Her hair was two-toned, primarily brown, but streaked with an olive-ish hue. She wore a long-sleeved red dress with a white collar, a pair of leggings, and sturdy winter boots. She tilted her head to the side upon spotting Kate and Gabriel.

"Oh," she said, rocking back and forth on her heels. "Hello."

"Hi," Kate said tentatively. "What... What are you doing here?"

The girl sighed. "My idiot friends hit their ball out here and I came to get it since I ain't gonna get lost, unlike those fools."

Kate and Gabriel exchanged knowing glances. This girl was not from Cambridge Falls, and she was not an ordinary human.

"You're from his realm, aren't you?" Gabriel questioned. "The realm of the Dire Magnus."

The girl raised an eyebrow. "What's it to you?"

"We're searching for it," Kate said. "Looking for an entrance."

"Oh," she said. "Are you from the town, then? Ol' what's-it-called?"

"Cambridge Falls, yes," Gabriel said. 

The girl nodded. "That's the one. And you have business in Loris?"

"Loris?" Kate asked.

"That's what it's called. The magical world you're searching for, I mean. I could take you there, if you want, but only if you tell me why you wanna go."

Once again, Kate and Gabriel looked to each other. Was this a trap? Was this child a trick of magic meant to put them at ease and then ensnare them? It was possible. And yet, if they followed her, they could reach the magical realm - Loris - sooner, and reunite with Michael and Emma. Was that worth the risk?

Gabriel decided that it was. "We are collecting my two youngest children. They've gotten lost in this forest and we must take them home." 

(He did not dare mention that it was the Dire Magnus himself who was responsible for the whole situation.)

The child's expression changed to something more understanding. "Ohhhhh, I get that. My friends get lost all the time. They don't got no sense of direction. It's a real pain." She stepped around the skeleton and held out a hand. "The name's Abigail. I'll take you to Loris and we'll find your kids."

Gabriel and Kate shook the young girl's hand. "Hello Abigail," the latter said carefully. (She'd become quite good with kids, after so much  time spent looking after Michael and Emma.) "My name's Kate, and this is my adoptive father, Gabriel. Thank you for your help."

Abigail grinned at her. "Well, I'm real helpful. Not like Jake an' Beetles. Those two are useless."

"Uh-huh," Gabriel said, though he had no idea who the hell Jake and Beetles were. "Can I ask, if you're from Loris, do you possess magic?"

"'Course I do. I'm a dryad, see." She waved a hand at herself, her bark-like skin and silver-green streaked hair. "Now c'mon. Follow me. We'll get to Loris in no time."

She darted back around the canine's corpse and into the brush. Gabriel and Kate found themselves following her, though they were both still skeptical, their tongues laden with many, many questions. Still, they refrained from asking all of them, even those about the monsters that had stolen Michael and Emma away. (After all, this girl wouldn't answer them if she was a trick, and if she was actually a child, she likely didn't have the information they needed.) Instead, they only asked one.

"Abigail," Kate called, "what was that skeleton doing there?"

"No idea," Abigail answered in a tone that was quite chipper, especially considering the subject matter of this conversation. "We got giant wolves in Loris, but I've never seen the bones of one arranged like that."

"So then why was it there?" Gabriel pressed. 

"I dunno. But I'm sure someone can tell us when we reach Loris."

The dryad girl sounded so cheerful, but it did nothing to lighten the dread in Kate's heart. She was headed to a dark, enchanted land to save her siblings, and not only would that require facing off against monsters and their ominous ruler, but whatever forces had thought to string bones and flowering vines together in a display both alarming and alluring.

Chapter Text

The girl, Abigail, took them deeper into the woods before leading the way through a misty thicket. Even through the haze, Kate and Gabriel could tell the shrubbery was so dense, it should be impossible to clear it without a hacksaw or something of the like. Yet the plants moved around them obediently, responding to a gentle touch of Abigail's outstretched fingers. It had to be her power as a dryad, Kate thought, and were she not consumed with thoughts of her siblings and Screechers and those odd bones, she would have smiled in wonder.

"Once we're on the other side of this, we'll be in Loris," Abigail called over her shoulder. "You ready?"

It didn't matter if they were ready. What mattered was finding Michael and Emma as soon as possible, then bringing them back home. 

"Yeah," Kate said. "Let's go."

Abigail hummed happily and continued pushing through the foliage. She was so carefree that it made Kate's heart ache. How she wished she could feel so at ease, tucked safe at home with her godfather and siblings, watching one of the overdramatic slasher movies Emma so enjoyed. Gabriel could snack on popcorn, Emma could throw popcorn at Michael when he began to nervously babble over the film, as he was wont to do, and Kate could burrow into the blankets and drift into an unencumbered sleep. But that was just a fantasy, one she could not afford to dwell on. She had to stay in the here and now, no matter how disturbing it was.

The dryad girl pushed through a final curtain of pine-needle laden branches, Kate and Gabriel at her heels. The three emerged from the misty thicket into a clearing, one that started out narrow but which they could see grew wider and wider. 

"Welcome to Loris," Abigail declared proudly, sweeping her arm dramatically towards the open space. 

The grass was green and soft here, not in a state of winter decay as it was in Cambridge Falls. The air was clean and fresh-smelling, with no hint of the usual detritus stench of the forest. The temperature was mild, cool and pleasant rather than cold, even with a light breeze rustling the trees surrounding them, trees that were chock-full of leaves in every verdant shade of green. Loris, it seemed, was brimming with life.

"Pretty, ain't it," Abigail remarked, a grin curling on her face. 

"Yes," Gabriel acknowledged. Kate nodded in agreement. The surrounding greenery was beautiful, and shockingly peaceful. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting from a world of magic that had stolen her siblings away, but this was decidedly not it.

"Not all of it looks like this, of course," the girl said, starting down the open path. "There are different parts, some more mountainous, some more like plains, some with plants a lot stranger than these. But this part is like your neck of the woods, only better."

"You make this place sound very big," Gabriel observed.

"'Course it's big. It's a whole other world. What, did you think it only existed tucked in your little mountain range?" She questioned.

"I don't think anyone in town truly knows the nature of this place," Kate admitted diplomatically.

Abigail sighed. "Go figure. Well, anyways, Loris, it ain't part of the human world, not really. It's separate, though close. Like we're neighbors, I guess. An' there are entrances, some permanent, some shifting. Your Cambridge Falls is right next to one a' those entrances, the one we just came through. It's one a' the permanent ones, leads right from your world to this place in mine."

"And where is this place in yours?" Gabriel wondered.

Abigail shrugged and gave a little spin. "The best part, 'course. The heart of it."

And then she broke into a run, forcing Kate and Gabriel to quicken their steps in hopes of keeping up. Fortunately, the terrain here was gentle, sloping lazily. They were able to ascend a ridge with ease, and then begin descending a large (but not at all steep) hill. 

Their destination became obvious as soon as they had crested the top. It was a town, or at least, the edge of one. Cottages, not unlike Granny Peet's, dotted the opposite edge of the clearing and continued, interspersed, among the trees on that side. There were people there too - the man and the girl could some of them walking, or sitting out on their porches and chatting, or doing chores. Most looked human, though many were slightly off, as Abigail was, and some had brightly colored skin or hair, or animal features like horns or scales, marking their magical nature. And their clothes, Kate realized as she and her companions drew closer, were old fashioned. There were long skirts and collared shirts, dresses not unlike Abigail's, trousers and suspenders and vests and patched coats. 

A few called out hellos to Abigail as she lead the others through the town. None seemed particularly surprised by the presence of Kate and Gabriel, and they were not bothered, either. No one questioned it. No one was in any way threatening. It was nothing like Kate had pictured - she had expected to be met with Screechers or other monsters that inspired fear in the hearts of Cambridge Fallsians. But these folks, inhuman in appearance as some of them were, were clearly not monsters out to snatch away unsuspecting children. 

Which, of course, begged the question; if these were ordinary, harmless residents of Loris, where were the dangerous ones, the ones who had taken Kate's siblings from her?

She was attempting to find the right words with which to broach the subject to Abigail, when a pair of high, tinny voices rang out, calling the dryad girl's name.

"Abigail, Abigail! Where've you been?" 

A pair of boys rounded a bend, nearly tripping over each other in their rush to reach Abigail. They were younger than she was, probably pre-teens, Kate realized, and they also had to be the "idiot friends" she had mentioned before, the ones who had hit their baseball all the way into the human world.

"Gettin' your ball, you lunks," she said, tossing the object in question over to them. "An' makin some friends. Guys, meet Gabriel an' his goddaughter Kate. Kate, Gabriel, these two buffoons are called Jake and Beetles."

Jake and Beetles, she added, ignoring their protests at being called buffoons, were satyrs. That much was obvious, though neither Kate nor Gabriel admitted it. The two pre-teens had hooves and furry ankles poking out from their trousers, and little horns sticking up from their dark curls and messy auburn hair, respectively. 

"Nice to meet you," said Kate, as she and Gabriel shook the hands of the pair. 

"They're from Cambridge Falls," Abigail informed her friends, sounding smug. "An' they're looking for their lost family members. I'm helping them."

Beetles rolled his eyes. "Are you now?"

"Yes, so if you'd just get out of my way so I can take 'em to Miss B, that'd be mighty helpful."

The pair did get out of Abigail's way, but insisted on tagging along to find this Miss B character. Kate and Gabriel exchanged skeptical glances as the children begun to bicker, dancing around each other and tossing out insults like Granny Peet tossed out birdseed in the morning. What on Earth had they gotten themselves into?

"Don't worry," Abigail said; she was the only one to notice their apprehension. "Miss B will know what to do. She's real smart, an' a great witch to boot. She's tutored me in magic for years now."

The dryad and her two faun friends lead their companions to a neat, narrow house. Instead of going to the door, they rounded the back of the building, where they all found a woman sitting at a desk on the back porch. She was middle aged, with close cropped gray hair, and she wore a stiff black dress that the wind tugged at. Her brow was furrowed in concentration as she read a thick, old book.

"Miss B!" Abigail, Jake, and Beetles all called out to her. "Miss B!"

The witch raised her head and sighed. "Children, what have I told you about interrupting my wor-"

She fell silent as she spotted Kate and Gabriel. Her steely eyes narrowed and she got to her feet. Her left hand smoothed her skirts. Her right hand was gone, that arm cutting off at the elbow. 

"What exactly have you three gotten into this time?"

Abigail stepped forward. "Jake and Beetles lost their baseball so I slipped out of Loris to go get it." Miss B frowned deeply upon hearing that, but Abigail kept talking, not giving her any time to express her displeasure. "I ran into Kate and Gabriel along the way. Kate's brother and sister and Gabriel's younger godchildren got lost and might have wandered into Loris. You can help find 'em, right?"

Miss B took a deep breath. "I can try," she said finally. 

Abigail grinned widely at Gabriel and Kate, then, as if to say I told you so. However, the witch was not done. "You three should run along," she told the magical children. "This might take a bit."

Jake and Beetles didn't need to be told twice. They dashed off, calling good luck and see you around to the others. Abigail, on the other hand, lingered for a moment, glancing between her tutor and her unlikely companions. "Do you want me to help?" She asked tentatively. 

Miss B shook her head. "No thank you, Abigail. I do appreciate the offer, though. Now, off you go, and for goodness sake, be more careful around strangers in the future. I understand you wanted to help, but it was rather reckless of you to do so."

Abigail scowled, but didn't challenge the woman. She just cast a long glance at Kate and Gabriel before shrugging. "I hope you find your family," she said. "And maybe I'll see you all around."

"Thank you for everything, Abigail," Kate replied.

"Yes," echoed Gabriel. "Thank you so much."

The dryad nodded, and then she was off, chasing after her satyr friends, leaving Kate and Gabriel alone with a witch who may or may not be able to help them. The pair stood shoulder to shoulder as Miss B stepped forward and held out her one hand.

"My name is Henrietta Burke," she said. "I'm not sure how much those three troublemakers got around to telling you, but I am a witch of some status here. Come into my home and we shall discuss your predicament."

Gabriel shook her hand and followed her inside, Kate at his heels. They found themselves in a neatly organized study. The late afternoon sunlight filtered through a big window, casting a checkered pattern across the full bookshelves covering two entire walls. There were a couple armchairs and a desk chair in the room, but Henrietta Burke remained standing, and so Kate and Gabriel did as well.

"Now then," the witch said, voice stern. "Your names and the reason you have come to Loris, please." It wasn't a request.

Gabriel cleared his throat. "My name is Gabriel Tessouat, and I have three godchildren who I have raised for over a decade now. This is Katherine Wibberly, and she is the eldest-"

"You can call me Kate, everyone does," the young woman cut in.

"They do," Gabriel said with a nod. "My younger children, Kate's siblings, are named Michael and Emma Wibberly and yesterday evening they left our house and were spotted walking by the woods before going missing. The old man whose property they were on claimed to have heard creatures not of our world lurking about, and the wisewoman of Cambridge Falls confirmed that Michael and Emma had been taken to Loris. We have come to collect them and bring them home."

"I don't suppose you've seen them?" Kate questioned. "Michael is fifteen and Emma's fourteen. They're about the same height, they've got short brown hair, Michael wears glasses, and they're always arguing with one another, so they'd be hard to miss."

Miss Burke shook her head. "No, I have yet to see anyone of that description in Loris, and I was not aware of anyone new being brought to this land from anywhere in the human world, let alone Cambridge Falls."

"Would you usually be aware of that?" Gabriel asked, an edge to his voice. Kate could tell what he really wanted to know; did Miss B have a hand in snatching away the Fallsians who had gone missing over the years?

"Not always immediately," she replied coolly, unphased by the weight of Gabriel's glare. "Especially when I am as busy as I have been recently. So it is possible that your Michael and Emma are around here somewhere. Do you know why they were taken?"

"No." Gabriel's voice had dropped to a growl. Kate understood where his anger was coming from; it sounded almost as though Henrietta was blaming Michael and Emma for their own kidnapping. Still, fighting would get them nowhere, so she took her godfather's arm, a silent signal to remain calm.

"Can you help us find them, as Abigail said you would?" She asked, trying to sound direct but non-accusatory all at once. "Perhaps there is a spell that would reveal where they are..."

Miss B shook her head. "I am afraid I cannot and will not do such a thing. It is not my responsibility, nor my place. I can, however, call for a meeting where you may address our monarch. He's the one who can return your family members to you."

Kate could feel Gabriel tensing up beside her. "You want us to speak to the Dire Magnus?" He gritted out.

"Yes, I do," Henrietta replied, still wholly calm. "He is the only one who can give you what you need."

"Then why did Abigail bring us to you?"

"Because I am his chief advisor, as well as her tutor, and thus can arrange an audience for you. She, evidently, did not think you would have an issue with that, probably because you didn't tell her the truth of your circumstances."

Kate bit the inside of her cheek. This witch was the Dire Magnus's chief advisor? What had she and Gabriel walked blindly into?

"The Dire Magnus - your monarch - took my children," Gabriel growled.

"Most likely, yes," Henrietta confirmed.

"Then why in the world would he return them or even meet with me and Kate?"

Henrietta shrugged. "I do not know, but I believe he would meet with you. And I believe, through bargaining, he can be convinced to release your relatives. Of course, whether he chooses to or not is not my problem."

Gabriel's teeth gnashed. While he would undoubtedly beg and bargain and do whatever it took to bring Michael and Emma home, Kate knew that it was eating at him. He was a protective person at heart, and it was in his nature to fight against the Dire Magnus, to avenge his frightened children, not to bow before the boogeyman who had terrified his hometown. And his ire was sparked even further by this woman, this cold and clever Henrietta Burke, acting so dismissive of their concerns. (Kate couldn't help but think of the Cambridge Fallsians who had acted similarly, delivering only empty platitudes to the struggling Wibberly-Tessouats.)

"We'll meet with him," Kate said, because she wasn't sure that Gabriel could manage the words. "As soon as possible, if you please."

Miss Burke nodded. "Very good. Come with me."

She led them back out of her home, her strides long and purposeful. Though following her was far more dangerous than following Abigail, Kate and Gabriel knew they had no other choice. Michael and Emma were counting on them.

They walked through the woods, passing the scattered houses and verdant foliage. Birdsong followed them, somehow charming and taunting at the same time. Kate glanced to the side and found that the trees thinned further down the hill - though Henrietta was not leading them there, she was leading them along the ridge - and the buildings became bigger and closer together. It was a town, or perhaps a small city, nestled in this magical valley like a technicolor mirror of Cambridge Falls. 

"This is the heart of our world, where we hold court and where magical goings on occur," Miss B said, noting where Kate's gaze had drifted. "There are other places, other landscapes - some sorts of beings - dwarves, elves, giants, and the like - prefer to keep to themselves, while others, like fairies and gnomes, or nymphs, or witches such as myself, are more likely to congregate."

"Interesting," Kate murmured, and all she could think about was how fascinated Michael would be to learn such information. Her heart ached. 

"What about the monsters?" Gabriel questioned, tone so passive-aggressive you would think Declan Rourke was in the vicinity. "Where do they stay?"

Henrietta did not take the bait. "The Imps enjoy a cavernous habitat. Trolls, on the other hand, remain on the outskirts in solitude - not ones for civilization, those lugs."

"And Screechers?" Kate asked.

Henrietta did not answer. Her lips were pressed tight into a firm line, and it had Kate and Gabriel exchanging worried glances. The latter detached his hatchet from the pack he carried, ready to swing it the instant a threat came upon them.

It was only fifteen minutes before they came upon a cliff-face, one that had previously been obscured by the forest. Built onto the side of the cliff was a house, poking up out of the mountainside. It was bigger than the other homes in Loris, but not dramatically so. Kate guessed that it was about the size of the town hall in Cambridge Falls - it was certainly smaller than the beachside mansions she and her family passed when they drove to the Atlantic coast for summer vacation last year. Yet despite its average size, it was still imposing. The roof was sharp and pointed, the windows big and narrow. Like a castle, or perhaps a cathedral. And at the front was a pair of doors, carved with strange symbols and set with heavy bronze handles in the shape of curled serpents. 

This was evidently the lair of the Dire Magnus. 

Henrietta did not ascend the stairwell and knock on those enormous wooden gates. Instead, she ducked beneath the stairs, into a small tunnel, and yelled a word in a language her companions did not understand. From the gloom came a creature - a monster, with a short sword strapped to its back. It had yellowed skin and tusks protruding from its prominent jaw. Kate recognized it from Granny's stories and other local legends as an imp. One of the servants of the Dire Magnus. 

"I have brought two humans from Cambridge Falls to petition our lord. Their business is somewhat urgent - can he receive them now?''

The imp studied Kate and Gabriel warily for a moment, then ducked back into the tunnel. There was a long pause as it conferred with whatever else lurked there, before it popped its irate face out again. 

"You're in luck," it grunted; its voice was raspy and unnatural. "'E's in the courtyard already. Go on an' present your humans there."

"Very good, thank you." Henrietta said. She waved her hand and motioned for Kate and Gabriel to come with her. They fell into step with the witch, and she smiled, icily. "Seems your wish for things to move quickly is to be granted today."

Miss B took them another five minutes along the ridge, then down a flight of makeshift rock stairs, headed not towards the village but in the opposite direction. Into the shadow of the hill and its pointed house. "Here we are," she said, and indeed, there it was. Stone walls, ten feet high, with iron gates set into them. They cut the path sharply in half. 

"He is on the other side," Henrietta stated plainly. 

She strode up to the gates, where two more imps stood sentry. "This is Gabriel Tessouat and Katherine Wibberly, here to see the king."

The imps, like their compatriot from the cavern, eyed the humans mistrustingly. One said, in that unnatural husk of its kind, "one at a time, and relinquish your weapons before you enter."

Gabriel's stony face made it clear this was a bridge too far. "We go together," he said shortly.

"You will address him one at a time, or not at all," the imp repeated.

"That is what is customary," Miss B added, her voice placating, telling them to just give in. 

Gabriel Tessouat was many things, but he was most definitely not the type to give in. 

He whipped out his hatchet and swung it towards the imps - only for a pair of vines to shoot from the soil and twine around him, knocking his weapon to the ground and binding his arms to his sides. He struggled, but all of his strength was nothing in the face of magic - Miss B's magic, Kate realized, noticing the crimson glow of the woman's fingers. 

"Please," she said, stepping between the imps and the witch and her godfather. "Don't hurt him."

"I don't want to, but you cannot expect me to let him go around attacking people," Henrietta said sternly. 

"He won't," Kate said.

"I cannot take the risk."

Her hand found the locket tucked below her collarbones. She squeezed it tight. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Gabriel, bound and weaponless but still fierce as ever. She tried to absorb some of that ferocity, to carry it with her for what was coming next.

"I know you can't, and I don't expect you to let him into your king's abode now. So keep him here - don't hurt him, but keep him here - until I return," Kate said, and she was surprised at how calm and steady her own voice sounded. She certainly didn't feel that way.

"You will meet with the Dire Magnus?" Henrietta asked, though she certainly knew what the answer would be. 

Kate shrugged off her bag and set it against the stone wall. Then she pulled her pocket-knife out and offered it to the witch, a symbol of good faith. "Alone and weaponless, as you say is protocol, yes."

Miss Burke took the knife and nodded. "I will return this, and your other things, and I will release your godfather from his bonds once you return."

Well, Kate thought to herself, at least Miss B thinks I will be returning. That's comforting, I suppose. 

"Kate, no," Gabriel protested. "Don't... I'm sorry." He was sincere, of course. He always was.

"I know," Kate said, still startlingly calm. I can handle this, she tried to reassure herself. I've shaken down cops for information for years now. This is just the next step in saving my family.

"You don't have to do this," he said, and his voice was so gentle, so kind... His expression was protective. His familiar gray eyes, which had always been markers of safety, were full of so much love Kate could drown in it. Were he not trapped by the vines, she would embrace him, this father figure she so cherished, this guardian who had always done everything he could to try and give her happiness when the rest of the world wanted to take it away.

"Yes, I do," said Kate with finality.

She turned on heel and walked through the iron gates that the imps had pulled open. She did not look back, even when they slammed shut behind her. 

This side of the wall was dark, made darker because the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon. The path was very narrow, but easy to traverse, and Kate walked briskly down it, through foliage as dense as the briars Abigail had led them through to get to Loris. It didn't take long, merely a minute or two, for her to reach a break in the brambles, leading into a cleared circle - the courtyard, Henrietta and the like had called it.

The first thing she noticed in that courtyard, before she even gathered her courage and stepped through the gap, was the lighting. On either side of the entrance were lampposts, holding large lanterns that cast a warm yellow glow over the whole space. The second thing she noticed was the looming throne in the center of the space - she could only see the very top of it, but she could tell that it was made of bones and bits of back rock, reminding her of the canine skeleton from the forest, and it was topped with the skull of a deer, two antlers curling menacingly up into the sky. Like a crown. 

The third thing she noticed, when she finally walked across the threshold and into the alluring light, was the boy. 

He had to be the Dire Magnus. After all, he sat on the throne (which was cushioned, for practicality and comfort) capped by that wild and wicked crown of bone. And yet, especially compared to his strange surroundings, he looked normal. Normal and young. 

He was, to Kate's shock, her age. His clothes were simple - trousers, a collared shirt, suspenders - and his hair was black and messy. He was built wiry, his skin was pale and a bit sallow, and his nose was crooked, as if it had been broken at least once before. He did not look anything like the monstrous entity whispered about fearfully in Cambridge Falls. He looked more like someone Kate would meet at school. But then their eyes met, and-

Her breath caught in her throat. If the rest of his appearance was ordinary, his eyes were anything but. They were deep, and intense, and the most vibrant shade of emerald green she had ever seen. 

"Hello," Kate said, refusing to look away. Trying to be as brave as Emma, or as unapologetically curious as Michael, or as steadfast as Gabriel. "The Dire Magnus, I presume."

For a long moment, he just stared at her. She resisted the urge to fiddle, to crack her knuckles or trace patterns in the dirt with her foot. Was he scrutinizing her, she wondered? Maybe, but there was something else there, something almost... hesitant. This boy, the Dire Magnus, appeared to be nervous. More than that, he appeared to be surprised. (That made two of them.)

"Hello," he said, and it came out as a whisper. He swallowed before speaking again, louder this time. "Welcome. I am the Dire Magnus, but I prefer to be called by my name; Rafe. Why have you come here? Who are you?"

"My name is Kate Wibberly. I've come here with my godfather, Gabriel, who's waiting outside the walls. We've come for my brother and sister," she replied. "Michael and Emma. They were snatched from Cambridge Falls by Screechers. I want them back. I'll do anything to get them back."

He got to his feet, abandoning that towering throne in favor of walking a few paces closer. "Kate," he said, in that same soft voice which with he'd greeted her. "Nice to meet you, Kate."

I'm not sure I can say the same, she scoffed, but she did not dare put voice to that thought. "I don't know why you took my siblings, but please, let's dispense with the formalities and get to the part where you tell me how I can reunite with them."

The Dire Magnus - Rafe - looked at her for a long moment, those green eyes fixed on her face. When he spoke, it was slow and careful. "I think there's been a mistake," he said. "I didn't take your siblings."