A Murder of Crows - Chapter 5

"Edward Derring, eh? He walked into the police station a few months ago. Strange fellow if you ask me. He asked an awful lot of questions regarding a case I was working on. A local priest had been killed very brutally in his own church, you know.
"To protect the investigation, I gave him no information at all. But before I could check out his background, he disappeared with most of the paperwork I had gathered on the case by then.
"So, he was an associate of yours. I assume you don't get along anymore?"

"Sorry, I've had my fill with law-enforcement authorities."
I disregard the stares and sip at my tea.
"Bon. Nice tea..."

"If our foe is that powerful, sir, we need all the help we can get," Amelia replied. "And since we all seem to know a little more than most people about things that walk in shadow, information seems to me to be a good place to start. I know there is much you cannot tell us, but for now, what can you say about we should expect this night?"
"And as for how much we know, Mr. Wolfemann, I cannot speak for anyone else, but any sort of light you can shed on our situation would be welcomed, I've no doubt." It would certainly calm my fears a bit, she thought, fingering her necklace absently.

"Actually, he was one of the most brilliant bobbies I've ever known. He probably wanted to help with your case. As for our getting along, he's actually one of my closest friends.
"I was just wondering if you knew him. Curiosity - still one of my greatest flaws, if you would call it such."

"All right, although I must ask you to keep what I say within these walls. I will not swear you to secrecy - the Legacy does not operate in that manner, unlike most of our contemporaries.
"Might I assume that we have all had some sort of encounter with that which modern science cannot explain, but that the ancient legends can? I'm certain that you, Frank, and you, Weasel, have. I would strongly suspect that Mr. Briefcase has, as well. And I know that I have - all too often.
"Well, despite your beliefs to the contrary, you are not going mad. The ancient lore is true more often than not, I'm afraid. While I do not claim to know everything there is to know about our foes, I do know the following.
"Since the beginning of time, there has been a great war between the Light and the Dark. The Legacy, along with others, have fought on the side of the Light since humanity was capable of doing so. The Legacy, standing behind its front as the Luna Foundation, seeks to isolate mystical evils and protect humanity from the forces of the Dark. There are innumerable other groups that do the same, but they tend to use more mystical forces than we do. The Legacy, unlike these groups, is less concerned with secrecy - we have our own ways of defending against the Dark, besides killing those who endanger our secrecy. The protection of the people is our first concern.
"I joined with the Legacy after my maid was killed protecting a small bookstore I owned, by a creature best described as a werewolf. I 'knew', up until then, that the books in my store were nothing more than that. However, the next day, one of the bobbies came and explained the Legacy to me, much as I am explaining it to you. He offered me membership - I make that same offer to those of us who survive this night. Those of you who don't accept will be remembered as associates of the Legacy, in any event, whether you like it or not.
"Unfortunately, we do have traitors in our midst, renegades who have turned to the Dark. I fear that Godfrey was suspected to be in league with the Dark and, although he was not a Legacy member, he had dealings with them. It is possible that I was chosen to come here by one of our members who is in league with the Dark, and is hiding his allegiance. All I know is that, before I left, I was given full rights to do whatever was necessary to retrieve the book that Mr. Briefcase gave me, and to eliminate any threats I saw. I still have to fulfill that part of my mission. Godfrey may still inhabit this house - if he does, he will likely try to kill us, and take our spirits as his new slaves. I am afraid that he will have great power this night, as well. As I pointed out earlier, it is Walpurgis Night, when the Dark's playthings have their power at its height."
Getting up, I walk towards the icebox, looking inside for something to cook up for dinner.
"So, does anybody have any ideas of what we should do?"

“I don't believe in a greater evil, if that's what you're hinting at. I've seen something, something 'evil' if you like, yes. And it's has its effect on me, though that's none of yur bussiness. But I don't see a big conspiracy behind it. All that speak of the Dark this and the Ligth that is a load of... Ow!"
People turned in surprise to the weasel, who stood besides the stove, sucking his thumb.
"The fire is on." he muttered.”

"You can say that again, mon ami."
I hear the grandfather clock strike 10 o'clock, like a living, beating, hating heart...
"The fires have always burned hotter in Bleakmoore Manor, anyway."
Could it be that these people have been brought here with me just to make me suffer? Or to set me free?
What are you up to, Adversary?

I chuckle slightly at Mr. Wolffemann's assumption on my part, and turn to face him once more.
"Ahhh, yes," I say, "the Legacy. Your people have strived for millenia, Mr. Wolffeman, to overcome the Advesary. As you know, your Legacy took its hardest blow many many centuries ago... they were the last to fall at the Library of Alexandria. Your Legacy has quite the legacy, Mr. Wolffeman."

"An organization that has existed for this purpose since ancient times?" Amelia asked. The implications of that fact alone staggered her. "And you say there are others as well, Mr. Wolfemann? Perhaps that clears up another mystery...But wait, I should explain, and clear up how I came to be here."
"All my life, my dreams-much like the one that led me here-have served as premonitions to events in the near future. A gift of foresight, if you like. As a child I mistook them for vivid nightmares-they were almost always unpleasant visions. However, as I grew older I began to sense things while I was awake. Magic, I suppose, though I didn't think magic existed in my family, unless through my father. There was always gossip surrounding him. But since he died before I was old enough to know him, let alone question him about it, and mother would never speak of it, the mystery remains, however frustrating."
"So, not knowing, I began to follow the trail of my dreams, and my search led me to the Boston newspaper archives, and from there I met William. With his help, and-thank heavens-his discretion, I discovered that my dreams were based in fact. We worked-" she paused uncertainly, "closely together up until a few years ago." Her face fell. "What happened from there is his story to tell, but after we parted ways, I encountered a group of individuals who were versed in the 'ancient lore' as you said. Very cloak and dagger, no names; all that I knew for certain was that they fought against the things that invaded my dreams at night. I have been aiding them, on and off, for the past two years, with warnings and information, yet still I know very little more than I did at first. Tell me, could these people be one of the organizations you mentioned?" She glanced at Karl. "I mean, if someone-or something-wishes me dead, I'd at least like to know who I'm fighting alongside."

"Unnatural forces!" Trent whips around suddenly.
"Well, yes. But some sort of evil conspiracy? I think that conspiracy is much more the line of humanity!" Trent looks at Mr.Briefcase searchingly.

"Humanity's ability to perform evil is peerless. Throughtout history, examples of this are plentiful. That's why we make such wondrous tools. We are childlike in our curiosity, yet devilish in our desire to inflict harm."
The soldier eyes me with weary eyes, like I was rambling like one of those new-age mystics. How many times I've seen that look? How many times I've given that look?
"That weapon of yours, for instance, is capable of killing a man, right?"
"Sure, mistah."
"But would it if no one pulled the trigger? How deadly would a sentient revolver be?"
I pause for a moment.
"How deadly can we be, if we act on our bent to destroy? Dark times lie ahead, and tough choices will be made. Choices that some of us may not survive..."
Been there, done that...

I chuckle at the calvary man, turing to him in turn.
"Still the skeptic even amongst this, sir?" I ask. "One would think with your past you should know that there are things that are more than just humans. The greatest evil mankind is capable of is not just that of destruction, but of the apathy to allow such destruction in the first place. It is in this apathy
that the Advesary thrives."
I turn back to Amelia, walking closely up to her. I whisper one thing to her.
"I was your father's teacher."

"Sir, I know little of what you speak of. Though I have dedicated my life to the service of the Legacy, I have not dedicated it to the study of its history.
"And, as I remember, the Legacy had little to do with the Defiance. Actually, they were contemporaries - equals in time. While the Legacy was there, leading the Defiance on, it was not shattered. It lived, and it will live for all times." Pulling my gloves back on, I get a slightly perturbed look on my face.
"As for you, Weasel, and you, Claude, I would have imagined that you two, at least, would be willing to listen. Ah, well, I have thought this before. It probably won't be the last time, either."

Hearing Amelia's thougths, I consider the possibility.
"Yes, it is quite possible. However, I fear that I cannot guarantee it. I am a field agent of the Legacy, not one with contacts that range into other organizations.
"As for your dreams, there are several of Us who have similar gifts. Flashes of insight - a sixth sense, if you will. I myself have a similar talent - and, I fear, it is what led me to prepare for tonight as I have." The thunder crashes outside as I busy myself preparing a beef soup - anyone who watched would notice the lack of vegetables in it.

"You seem to think that I suspect conspiracy. I do not. Conspiracy is an evil that man is capable of, but others are capable as well. And man is an evil to consider here. As Mr. Briefcase has said, Man's apathy will allow the rising darkness to succeed where it has failed before. 'Two out of three of the children shall perish.' That is the general jist of a passage from, I believe, the book of Ezekial. He is right - but not only the children of Israel.
"Death shall visit all people, of all nations, of all races. Only one thing will defend mankind without fail - subservience to the Dark. The Dark seeks not to corrupt, but to enslave. Corruption is merely one method. We fight a war - evil of all sorts fight this war, as well as good. There is one greater than any good Man has known, that backs the Legacy. This Goodness, the force we call the Light, will be the only other thing that MIGHT save Man.
"We fight back, no matter what the cost. Only in this way will our souls be saved, even if our lives are not.
"However, the soup is ready. We should, I think, continue this conversation later." As I think about this, I wonder - did Dietrich prepare this trap for me? Did he know about Godfrey when he suggested I leave? Or was it another of the seven on the Circle - or, worse, was it the machinations of an entire House? They have been known to surrender to the Dark - a Renegade house would have no problem with killing a member of the Inner Circle - indeed, they would relish the chance. I wish Himmel weren't back in town but, at the same time, I am glad that he is not here. I couldn't watch him and myself at the same time...

I smile, much like an old teacher smiles at a young, eager student.
"Oh, but I listen, mon ami. Say your mind, calm your heart. But at least eat something. An empty sack fails to stand upright..."
I taste some of the beef soup. Odd tasting meat, I must say. Has the corruption started already? Took a lot longer last time...
"Er... you'd better put some more pepper and sauce in it. Worcestershire Sauce would do fine."
As the lady glances at me, I surrender an amused smile.
"Hey, I can cook."

"It seems that you all have strong convictions, gentlemen," Amelia remarked. She scanned the cupboards, finding and laying out some soup bowls as she listened to the conversation. "And you can cook as well...truly remark-"
She started in surprise as the Briefcase approached her. Leaning close, she caught the faint scent of him, and memory stirred somewhere deep inside her as he whispered one simple phrase. She swallowed hard. "Then I envy you, sir," she whispered, almost to herself. "For having memories of him when his daughter does not."
She looked at him closely...and the memory surfaced with a jolt. She reached out and touched one of the black buttons of his jacket, ignoring the others who watched. "Buttons...I pulled one of them off, didn't I? It was the nightmare-a bad one-and I was a child." The words came in a rush. "I woke up, and you were there in my room. I was holding onto your coat, and you were talking to me, comforting me. What was it you said? Something about not letting my fears get the best of me, and that someday I would understand-"
Amelia colored slightly and stepped back, remembering abruptly where she was. "I had forgotten,until now. I didn't mean to forget," she finished quietly. "But it WAS you...somehow."

I smile warmly at her as she recollects.
"Yes," I say, "that was me. You were so very little then. I can remember your nightmares. Every night. And you have come to understand them finally."
My face looks dark as I look mournfully into Amelia's eyes.
"I know why you forgot as well," I speak. "That night, your father was murdered."

"Murdered!? No, that's not possible, they told me it was an accident-" Amelia trailed off uncertainly, gripping the edge of the table for support.
"Mother told me. But then, how does one tell a child something like that anyway. How does one explain to a child that her dreams are premonitions, and that she has magic in her blood." She was talking to herself again, and not making any sense. She looked up at the Briefcase again, keeping her voice deliberately steady. "How...and why?"

My face turns dark as I remember. It was 16 years ago. So much time had passed, but what was 16 years to me?
"The Advesary has been hunting me for a long time," I say, hoping that I do not reveal too much. "Your father was to help me in a meeting with a contact. The contact, though, betrayed us. To a man... a man by the name of Marcell de Larioux. Your father had gone to meet the contact alone. The contact assumed that your father was myself, and shot him dead. He then threw the body in a small wearhouse, burning it down to cover his tracks. Everyone thought it was an accident. Except for me."
I look deeply into Amelia's eyes, and for a moment she glimpses the deep sorrow within them.
"You awoke that evening," I continued, "at precisely the same moment your father was killed. I knew, for I had felt it too. You were so young... I held you, coaxing you back to sleep. That was when you tore a button off. I left it there for you to remember."
Taking her hand, a sudden tingle fills her body. Something inside her seems to respond to something within me.
"You have the seed of magic within you," I explain. "For it to grow into the flower it was meant to be, you must be trained."
I saw the last part very quietly, so only Amelia can hear.
"That is what I offer you, training."

Amelia felt the tingle of power course through her body, and drew in a slow, deep breath. It was almost too much to comprehend, but she knew, somehow, that it was true. Oh Amelia, I hope you know what you're getting into, she thought.
She studied the man her father...and mother, had trusted. So much sorrow behind those eyes, she thought. So old, yet ageless, if such were possible. This night, she was certain anything was possible.
"I have always been my father's daughter," Amelia said finally, after a long silence. She smiled and blinked back her tears, reaching up and circling her arms around his neck, hugging him lightly so that he would not see. "Thank you," she whispered, "For being there. I accept what you offer me, even if I do not yet fully understand. But only if you promise to tell me more of my father, and who he was. I would treasure that...very much."
She drew away from him, her expression composed once more. "But first, I'm afraid we must still get through THIS night. Your mysterious "Adversary" still has a hand to play here tonight, does he not?"