Witchbane - intermission. An evening in the mountains - 1
“How about an evening in the mountains? Here is the address of the chalet.”
I frown and smile at the same time. On one hand, it’s quite presumptuous of my Ukrainian lover to suggest I drive for half a day to meet him and to be certain of an answer. On another hand, a weekend in Swiss Alps does sound nice. Frankly, it would be a welcome respite. The integration of π-3 into the workforce is not going as well as one might hope. People are leaving, and the people who are hired in their place have different values. I’m bothered by this, and I want a break.
So, I drive to a minuscule mountain village to meet Hedgehog. As always, seeing him fills me with playful anticipation. The Ukrainian takes me to the chalet where we sit, drink and chat, enjoying the stunning views and each other's company. There is something strange, however. I can tell the Ukrainian is slightly tense. Is he worried? Annoyed?
Before long, Hedgehog asks me to accompany him for a walk. There was a guy he was supposed to meet today, he says, but the man didn’t show up. Hedgehog was waiting for his call all morning. The call never came, but maybe the dude left whatever he brought in a secret place. Hedgehog knows what the object should be, and he knows the place where the man has supposedly stayed. We'll go there together and check. Maybe we'll be able to find the package. The plan is to pick it up and come back.
The walk starts pleasantly enough. Mountain views, excellent weather, a good companion. We soon reach a small shack. Here, shepherds stay during the summer months while cattle grazes on the nearby slopes.
No shepherds here now. The shack looks empty. Something about it gives me chills. I check the pistol in my purse. Hedgehog notices it but doesn’t comment. He is edgy himself.
We enter the shack and my welcome respite turns into my regular work day.
The guy Hedgehog was supposed to meet is dead on the floor. He wasn’t just brutally murdered. Whoever did it went for an overkill, pun intended. I see several gunshot wounds, one of them fatal. The body seems to be nailed to the floor with huge rusty nails. The ribcage is pierced with an aspen stake. The lower jaw is broken - whoever did it to him tried to stuff something down his throat, too. It looks like the hunters used absolutely everything in their arsenal to make sure the guy is finished, be he a werewolf, a vampire, a sorcerer or a demon. Crude work, but it killed the poor chap just the same.
"Did you know him?" I ask Hedgehog.
The Ukrainian shakes his head.
"It was a business transaction," he says. "I don't know much about the guy. I never met him before."
"How do you know it's him?"
"Who else? This man was a mage, I can tell. Why would any other mage be here?"
"Makes sense."
The Ukrainian picks something from the floor. It is a wallet. There are no papers there to help identify the victim. Hedgehog takes out a weird coin. It looks like a regular coin, but I can tell it's not money of any country known to me, and I've been to quite a few.
Hedgehog pockets the coin and starts looking around. The shack is a mess, obviously. Signs of a violent fight and blood everywhere. It would be tricky to find the parcel Hedgehog is after by looking for anything out of place. Everything is.
"If he left a package within easy access, the hunters took it," Hedgehog muses softly. "But, if my guess is right, this guy was a person who could create secret compartments on a short notice. Don’t bother looking for unsteady nails," the Ukrainian tells me as I inspect the floor, "he never raised the planks. If the object is here, it would sit somewhere behind the surface with no signs of the surface being broken."
"He didn’t have much time," I say. "It must be in this room. That's where the body is."
Hedgehog nods and looks around once more.
"The fireplace," he decides. "The chimney. Not too low: the hunters would find it. Not too high: the mage should have been able to reach it. I would need something heavy to break the masonry."
"You also need to be quick," I say. "Whoever did this, they probably are not very far. They may come back. I'd prefer to be out of here before they do."
"You can keep watch," Hedgehog suggest. "Not through the windows. On the roof."
We go outside. I find a ladder and climb to the roof. Hedgehog inspects the outer shed and gets out a heavy hammer. Soon, the booming bangs of a metal crushing brick fill the air. It's awfully loud.
Another thing that's awful is that I see people on the trail down below.
There are not many at first. Five, maybe six. They are not moving for now. They are talking and ... waiting?
I inform the Ukrainian. He asks me to keep watching. He needs another half an hour, he says.
I climb back onto the roof to find out the group got bigger. It's about a dozen people now. Some have rifles. They are still not moving and it would still take them about 30 minutes to get to the shack, but it starts getting uncomfortable.
By the time Hedgehog is done, the group turns into a mob thirty men strong. I check my phone for coverage in case I need to send a distress call home. I hope I won't need to. I'm here with a sorcerer. Calling Hexenfluch for help would be the last resort.
Hedgehog joins me on the roof. He has found what he was looking for. Now we need to solve another problem. How to get out of here and not to end up like the guy below.
The mob starts moving uphill.
(to be continued...)
Here is what the main characters look like.
Deirdre Buchanan, a consultant on supernatural in the Hexenfluch, the German witch hunter organization:
Hedgehog, a Ukrainian sorcerer, her one-night stand that turned into a relationship of sorts:
Photos courtesy of Pinterest.
I frown and smile at the same time. On one hand, it’s quite presumptuous of my Ukrainian lover to suggest I drive for half a day to meet him and to be certain of an answer. On another hand, a weekend in Swiss Alps does sound nice. Frankly, it would be a welcome respite. The integration of π-3 into the workforce is not going as well as one might hope. People are leaving, and the people who are hired in their place have different values. I’m bothered by this, and I want a break.
So, I drive to a minuscule mountain village to meet Hedgehog. As always, seeing him fills me with playful anticipation. The Ukrainian takes me to the chalet where we sit, drink and chat, enjoying the stunning views and each other's company. There is something strange, however. I can tell the Ukrainian is slightly tense. Is he worried? Annoyed?
Before long, Hedgehog asks me to accompany him for a walk. There was a guy he was supposed to meet today, he says, but the man didn’t show up. Hedgehog was waiting for his call all morning. The call never came, but maybe the dude left whatever he brought in a secret place. Hedgehog knows what the object should be, and he knows the place where the man has supposedly stayed. We'll go there together and check. Maybe we'll be able to find the package. The plan is to pick it up and come back.
The walk starts pleasantly enough. Mountain views, excellent weather, a good companion. We soon reach a small shack. Here, shepherds stay during the summer months while cattle grazes on the nearby slopes.
No shepherds here now. The shack looks empty. Something about it gives me chills. I check the pistol in my purse. Hedgehog notices it but doesn’t comment. He is edgy himself.
We enter the shack and my welcome respite turns into my regular work day.
The guy Hedgehog was supposed to meet is dead on the floor. He wasn’t just brutally murdered. Whoever did it went for an overkill, pun intended. I see several gunshot wounds, one of them fatal. The body seems to be nailed to the floor with huge rusty nails. The ribcage is pierced with an aspen stake. The lower jaw is broken - whoever did it to him tried to stuff something down his throat, too. It looks like the hunters used absolutely everything in their arsenal to make sure the guy is finished, be he a werewolf, a vampire, a sorcerer or a demon. Crude work, but it killed the poor chap just the same.
"Did you know him?" I ask Hedgehog.
The Ukrainian shakes his head.
"It was a business transaction," he says. "I don't know much about the guy. I never met him before."
"How do you know it's him?"
"Who else? This man was a mage, I can tell. Why would any other mage be here?"
"Makes sense."
The Ukrainian picks something from the floor. It is a wallet. There are no papers there to help identify the victim. Hedgehog takes out a weird coin. It looks like a regular coin, but I can tell it's not money of any country known to me, and I've been to quite a few.
Hedgehog pockets the coin and starts looking around. The shack is a mess, obviously. Signs of a violent fight and blood everywhere. It would be tricky to find the parcel Hedgehog is after by looking for anything out of place. Everything is.
"If he left a package within easy access, the hunters took it," Hedgehog muses softly. "But, if my guess is right, this guy was a person who could create secret compartments on a short notice. Don’t bother looking for unsteady nails," the Ukrainian tells me as I inspect the floor, "he never raised the planks. If the object is here, it would sit somewhere behind the surface with no signs of the surface being broken."
"He didn’t have much time," I say. "It must be in this room. That's where the body is."
Hedgehog nods and looks around once more.
"The fireplace," he decides. "The chimney. Not too low: the hunters would find it. Not too high: the mage should have been able to reach it. I would need something heavy to break the masonry."
"You also need to be quick," I say. "Whoever did this, they probably are not very far. They may come back. I'd prefer to be out of here before they do."
"You can keep watch," Hedgehog suggest. "Not through the windows. On the roof."
We go outside. I find a ladder and climb to the roof. Hedgehog inspects the outer shed and gets out a heavy hammer. Soon, the booming bangs of a metal crushing brick fill the air. It's awfully loud.
Another thing that's awful is that I see people on the trail down below.
There are not many at first. Five, maybe six. They are not moving for now. They are talking and ... waiting?
I inform the Ukrainian. He asks me to keep watching. He needs another half an hour, he says.
I climb back onto the roof to find out the group got bigger. It's about a dozen people now. Some have rifles. They are still not moving and it would still take them about 30 minutes to get to the shack, but it starts getting uncomfortable.
By the time Hedgehog is done, the group turns into a mob thirty men strong. I check my phone for coverage in case I need to send a distress call home. I hope I won't need to. I'm here with a sorcerer. Calling Hexenfluch for help would be the last resort.
Hedgehog joins me on the roof. He has found what he was looking for. Now we need to solve another problem. How to get out of here and not to end up like the guy below.
The mob starts moving uphill.
(to be continued...)
Here is what the main characters look like.
Deirdre Buchanan, a consultant on supernatural in the Hexenfluch, the German witch hunter organization:
Hedgehog, a Ukrainian sorcerer, her one-night stand that turned into a relationship of sorts:
Photos courtesy of Pinterest.