The Black Rabbit of Glomdoring, Part 2

The Uncaring Winter

By Stratas Shee-Slaugh

     Calling what Enlay felt now 'cold' would have been a colossal understatement. The bitter chill whipped and scourged at his back as he trudged forward, leading the way for Nisha and her piercing eyes. Even his thickest coat offered no protection against the harshness he had to endure.
    The snow was unpleasant too, Enlay mused, trying to distract himself from his companion's disdain. A heavy snowfall had been on them since they entered the valley, and he often found himself getting lost in pillowed drifts. His somewhat taller elfen friend had nowhere near the trouble, but Enlay knew that he was not in position to complain or ask for help digging out.
    The duo marched in silence across the snowy valley, crossing the hot spring fed river that cleaved the valley in two, and continuing on the far bank towards the isolated village of Rikenfriez. The light dusting of fir trees along the bank became thicker as they headed inland, forming a quiet wood by the time they came to the ramshackle huts that marked the outskirts of the village.
    Knowing that they were walking into some sort of trap of Rhenboe's did little to make their entry feel better, as even the quiet igasho women tending to fishing nets seemed to them a little unnerving. Nisha simply gathered her cloak more tightly about herself as she cast her eyes about for their lost companion, but Enlay couldn't help but stare at every hut and villager they passed by. It was only when they were fully within the village, near a tall obelisk on the shores of a frozen pond, that he finally felt he had to bring up his growing concern to Nisha.
    "These villagers," he started, tugging on her cloak and bringing her to a halt. "There's something wrong with them."
    "They're hicks, Enlay. Of course there's something wrong with them." Nisha could barely manage to suppress her exasperated sigh.
    "No, no, something else. Something deeper than that. Look, over there. That woman mending a net."
    Despite herself, Nisha felt his unease, and she turned to study the old igasho. They stood far enough away that at first, she couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. A grey haired igasho sat hunched over, rocking back and forth while mending a net. Nisha was about to speak, when she finally noticed.
    "There's no net," she murmured. "The woman isn't actually fixing a net. Why is she doing that then?"
    Enlay shook his head, also at a loss. "I've seen a few of them like that. The look like they're working on something, but there's nothing in front of them. Or they just sit and stare, looking at nothing, not even at us as we went by."
    "One of Rhenboe's tricks, no doubt. Still, it's not really our concern unless it gets in the way of our job."
    "But if Rhenboe set this up, then it IS our job!" Enlay protested. His cries fell on deaf ears, as Nisha was already moving on.
    "We find Campion and the moonbeam first, Enlay. Then we figure out how to get it. If it involves fixing these people, then fine. If not... how much different is it from their normal lives, anyway?"
    The two walked around the edge of the pond, noticing more and more the signs of the strange affliction in the village. An igasho man sat on the stoop of a hovel, whittling away forever, the knife in his hand long broken without his notice. A woman absently poked at the cobblestones, oblivious to the child that tugged at her dress, crying. Enlay shivered intensely as he hurried along.
    Enlay and Nisha passed through the village row, the few villagers not afflicted turning their gazes and hurrying about their business. It was near an alcove in the cliffs, by a junction of worn and ill-repaired paths that they found what they were looking for. A strongly built bell house, securely gated, and marked all over with silver moons in various phases. Everything from the decoration to the construction itself was distinctly out of place for the hardened village.
    "This seems a little too on the nose, don't you think?" Enlay frowned as he studied a glimmering moonstone panel on the side of the gate. Nisha nodded in agreement.
    "He didn't really seem one for subtlety, though, did he? Still, I'm guessing if WE take the direct approach here, something will go wrong." Nisha slowly walked in a circle as she spoke, searching for something Enlay couldn't see. "It bears investigating more, though. I'm going to ask for information."
    She reached into her cloak, and pulled out a swathe of shadows. Slowly she unravelled it, darkened tendrils flowing behind her, until a dark metal cauldron dropped before her. Nodding in satisfaction, she picked up the cauldron and turned to walk towards the darkened cliffs. "Stay here, and don't ruin anything, please."
    "Nisha, there are no villagers that way!"
    "Why would I talk to the villagers? Don't be silly, Enlay, I want information, not drivel. Mind yourself now, since I won't be here to do it." With that, she swept off, the lingering wisps of shadow trailing behind her.
    The furrikin grumbled a bit, then brushed some snow off his nose and began examining the building again, looking for clues or ways to sneak inside. From time to time he could catch a glimmer of silvery moonlight inside the bell house as though it were teasing him. Despite the warnings from his friend, he couldn't help but reach towards the moonstone panel that intrigued him so much.
    The sound of crunching footsteps in the snow stopped his hand, and his ears shit straight up, then began swivelling slightly as he attempted to locate the sound. He could feel a looming presence close behing him, and he whirled suddenly, throwing his coat off in one swift motion and tossing it in his assailant's face. As the big igasho stumbled back, confused by the sudden onslaught of tiny clothes, Enlay pulled out his mandolin, and prepared to set his foe's eardrums bleeding.
    "'Ey, 'ey, what's the meaning of this, fella? I was just trying to talk to you!"
    Enlay nearly dropped his mandolin at the sound of his friend. "Campion!" he squealed excitedly, and only the sudden remembrance of Rhenboe's trick kept him from bounding on his friend and hugging him close. "We... we've been looking for you!"
    Campion dropped the tiny coat back into the rabbit's open arms, then brushed back his shaggy, granite coloured hair. "The name's Khampey, friend. Didn't we meet at Mount Avechna a few days back? Why the Nil would you have followed  me here, huh? And why be looking for me?"
    Nodding quickly, the furrikin rans through a few lies in his head, trying to find something plausible and unsuspicious, eventually settling on a modified truth. "Well, Nisha and I, that's the elfen girl I was with, we were looking for something and heard it was in Rikenfriez. And since you, um, live here, we thought we could ask you about it."
    The burly man chuckled. "You're looking for the Moonstruck Bell, I reckon, then. There isn't much else worth seeing up here, unless you like ice-picking."
    Enlay settled back onto a rough hewn bench facing the bell house. "The Moonstruck Bell. That'd be it, certainly. Can you tell us anything about it, Cam... Khampey?"
    "It's Rikenfriez's most sacred artifact, little one. Handed down in ages past by Mother Moon herself. Once a month we ring the sacred bell, and a spell of protection is cast across the village. The cost is great, but worth it, or we would be overrun by blizzards and snow cats, and there would be no village at all."
    Enlay's ear's perked up again. "Cost? What cost?"
    "Haven't you seen them, little one? The people with no heart left? No fire? We call it the uncaring winter. That's what happens here. We're all saved from the wrath of winter, cause it all falls on one poor soul."
    Something unusual about Campion's story bothered Enlay. "Doesn't the building seem kinda... new? It's not weathered like everything else. The masonry looks fresh. The wood on the gate hasn't cured. How can it be so ancient if it looks like it was built last week?"
    Steely grey eyes studied the woodwork in confusion, taking in and trying to resolve the conflicting details and incongruities. Campion's brow furrowed and his expression clouded for a moment, before suddenly clearing. "It's remarkably well maintained, isn't it?" he said, finally.
    Enlay sighed. This was getting him nowhere. "I need to get in there," he said, hopping to his feet. He stopped suddenly as he saw a flash of steel, and his nose ended millimetres away from the edge of Campion's scimitar.
    "No can do, little one." A menacing growl accompanied the threat of the curved blade. "No one but an igasho goes in there. Legend has it that if anyone else touches the Moonstruck Bell, then uncaring winter becomes unending, and all things trapped in its grip are never free. So I'm not gonna let you take that chance. You want in there, little one, you have to go through me."
    Enlay was about to respond, and perhaps take the big man up on his challenge, when he caught sight of Nisha returning from the alcoves in the cliffs. He quickly slipped on the icy ground, sliding into a tumble and dodging underneath the scimitar as he ran towards his friend.
    "Nisha! Guess who I met! There's this great guy here named..."
      "Campion!"
    "Why do you keep calling me that?!" The furry giant roared in anger, unsheathing his other sword and pointing them towards the duo. "It's Khampey! Khampey! And if I catch either of you near the Moonstruck Bell again, I will end you myself. Leave, now!" He whirled, and stormed off in a huff, his stomping footsteps echoing throughout the town.
    Nisha fluffed her cloak and murmured something under her breath, then turned to Enlay. "We shall deal with him later. For now, I have found some intriguing information from the local fae, though they were quite unwilling to part with it. Nevertheless. They did, in the end."
    She pulled her cauldron forth again, then reached in and pulled out a shadow, then tossed it into the air, letting it settle around them. Cloaked in the shadows, she settled cross-legged on the cobblestones.
    "The fae here seem strangely charmed, and somewhat forgetful. It is as though they themselves are bewitched, but in a different way from the villagers. They speak readily of the 'uncaring winter' that affects the villagers, but deny anything has affected them."
    "Well what do they say about the winter thing?"
    "The 'winter thing' is a curse from the moonlight that infests the village. Supposedly the bell tolls once a month, and a steals a soul for the moonlight. But the fae are vague on how long it's been happening, and get angry when pressed on it. But given that and what we're up against, I think the answer is 'not long enough for there to be this many affected.'"
    Enlay nodded, and pointed out his observations on the new construction of the bell house. Nisha took in the details quietly before resuming.
    "So it seems this is part of Rhenboe's trick. A newly built bell house, and an enchantment on everything in Rikenfriez, including Campion. I can't figure out what is game is, Enlay. Because that's all this is. He seems to have set this whole thing up, just for us. The moonbeam, the cursed villagers... all of it just a setting for whatever this is."
    "It's some kind of trap, for certain. Campion... Khampey... he said that if we disturbed the Moonstruck Bell, then everything would stay trapped. I don't think he was talking about the villagers, though. I think Rhenboe meant him."
    "Or it could be a diversion. The fae passed on a legend of their own. 'When Night Queen's scarab the bell does touch, on its evening toll, the moonlight falls to shadow side and village becomes whole.' I... think it fairly obvious what that means.
    Enlay scratched between his ears, which were drooping in disappointment. "Gosh, is he even trying?"
    Nisha's smirk was evident, secure in her feeling that the situation was nearly wrapped up. "We just need to prepare for the bell toll. There doesn't seem to be any reason to wait for an appointed time, and I'm sure if there was it would be now, knowing our tormentor. So we need to get that moonbeam, and go home. Enlay, go ahead and open the gate."
    The furrikin reached through the shadows towards the glimmering moonstone plate, the shadows neatly concealing his dark fur, and his hesitation. But even Nisha could see when he slumped down, and she started forward with angry concern.
    "Enlay..."
    "I'm sorry, Nisha, I can't. I can't risk Campion like that. I'll catch up with you when I've set him free!" The rabbit bolted off, tearing across the cobblestones and veering towards the frozen pond, trying to dodge away from the elfen who stood, decidedly not following him.
    "Tsch. Enlay, you silly fool, why do you do this to me? Just work with me for once." She sighed and swore quietly to herself. "Nil. I can't actually do this alone. I need his scarab." Leaving her cauldron surrounded by a swarm of shadows, she gathered her cloak and moved onwards, trailing her companion.
    Enlay ducked into and out of huts, ignoring the few cries of protest from villagers still aware of their surroundings. Finally, in a draughty wooden hovel, he found Campion tending a small fire and grumbling to himself. Without stopping or slowing down, the lapine furrikin barrelled into his friend, catching him by surprise and knocking him to the ground.
    "Khampey! Nisha is coming, and she's going to take you home, and then we're breaking into the bell house." Breathlessly he hopped up, then sat quickly on the bewildered igasho's chest. He slung his satchel off and tore the glittering scarab from where he had stuck it on the latch. "You're going to need this, I think," he promised, looking around frantically before the sound of approaching footsteps spurred him to action. He thrust the scarab onto Campion's face where it latched on, growing in size until its legs could wrap around the temples and chin. Enlay managed a satisfied nod just before Nisha entered the hovel.
    "There are no words, rabbit. There are no words."
    "You don't need any, Nisha! But you do need the scarab, and you can't get it without saving Campion first." A muffled protest came from beneath the fae-born insect, but Enlay simply poked it, causing Campion's eyes to go wide.
    The elfen girl crouched beside the prone igasho, then reached out to touch the scarab. It hissed violently, flicking sickly wings and waggling its legs, much to Campion's horror. He tried to grab it off himself, only to be met with the same response.
    "You have to take it off of him, Enlay," Nisha said quietly. "We will figure out what to do, but you must take it off."
    "Are you sure?"
    Campion began nodding wildly, only spurring the beetle to cling harder to his face and prompting a strangled whimper. Enlay murmured for a moment, before finally giving in and taking the scarab from the igasho's face. He stared intently at it as he slid off Campion's chest, before he finally stood and handed it to Nisha.
    "Here. Let's try your way. I guess I was wrong."
    "By the gods, Enlay, you sure were." Campion righted himself, running the hairy backs of his hands over his face in a repeated attempt to get it clean. "Putting Lhiannan's bug on my face like that. I'm not some fae you know."
    Four eyes turned to stare at the igasho, hesitant but hopeful. "Campion?" Nisha asked, her voice quavering slightly.
    "It's me, Nisha. Everything's kinda foggy, except that last part, but I remember bits and pieces. I think having that bug on my face scared me back to wakefulness. I think we've got some more urgent problems, though." He gestured towards the door, where a vacant eyed igasho child stood wielding a club. "Looks like we've got to get out of here."
    The chance was lost, as the child was pushed aside by two larger igasho men, armed with more lethal weapons. Their eyes were just as empty, but the hostility in their faces made their intention clear. Campion grabbed his scimitars and quickly sheathed them, then put an arm around Nisha's waist and grabbed Enlay by the scruff of his neck. With a bellow he charged forward, slamming into the villagers before him and crashing through the door frame and wall beside it. The whole house collapsed in an instant, burying their assailants as Campion carried the group clear down to Field Row.
    They could see the bell house in the distance, but between them and the end of their journey stood an entire village of empty-eyed igasho, all armed and ready to attack with the force of an uncaring winter storm. Enlay let out a soft whistle as he readied his mandolin, softly strumming a song to bolster his friends' spirits.
    "I suppose this was the trap he set. We try to break the curse, and the villagers are already under his control, to attack us." Nisha shook her head. "He is awfully direct about things, that Rhenboe."
    Campion crouched down, readying himself for the battle to come as Nisha called out to her loyal fae. The burly man turned to his friend and whispered, "I'm gonna need you to create a distraction so I can get to that moonstone panel, little guy. Think you can manage?"
    Without waiting for a response, Campion grabbed Enlay and hurled him towards the crowd, charging after him with a roar. Nisha followed, riding atop a giant barghest and trailed by a cackling redcap and slaugh. Enlay tumbled through the air, clearing his mind and focusing on his training. He landed with surprising grace, quickly jumping into a handstand where he was able to nimbly dodge the thrusts of pikes and slashes of knives coming at him. When a good number of villagers were around him, he quickly spun out in a scissor kick, knocking them to the ground.
    Campion charged past the prone villagers, knocking a few out of his way as he barely skidded to halt before the bell house. Women and children began jumping on him, clawing and scratching as they tried to haul him away from the shrine. With a surge of energy he thrust out his palm, slamming it into the moonstone plate and cracking it in two. The light dimmed, and the gate began to creak open.
    Enlay dodged to and fro, trying to keep a song going as he weaved through the villagers. He had seen Campion get dragged down beneath a wave of elderly and youthful, and now was trying to find Nisha to get him closer to bell. It was a terrifying roar that alerted him to her presence, and he looked up in time to see the barghest she was riding leaping over his head. It landed in the midst of a group of fishermen, letting out another scream to paralyse them before the redcap could slice them and take their blood. The slaugh walked coldly past Enlay, though her expression warmed as she heard his song.
    A sudden thought occurred to the Harbinger, and he quickly realised the best way out of the fight. He modified his tune, subtly adjusting the imbued harmonies away from his friends and towards the fae that served Nisha. A wicked grin spread across the slaugh's face and she dove into the crowd with abandon, spreading her night plagues and debilitating all she touched. In the distance, Enaly could hear th mad cackle of the redcap, and all too soon after, the tortured cries of its sliced victims.
    The area around him was clear, but Enlay could still see that getting to the bell was a hopeless task. Nisha rode a furious barghest, but even between her and her fae, they would be unable to subdue the rapidly recovering villagers who kept returning to the fight. Enlay had to end things quickly, and he knew he had one good shot.
    He dropped into a crouch, and dumped his satchel on the ground, then upended it, releasing an uncomfortably twisted but marginally smaller pigwidgeon. Dusting the fae off and straightening it hat, Enlay asked it, "Do you still wish to serve Mother Night?"
    "Yoo triccked meee, fool! I doo not..."
    "Good, glad to hear!" Enlay pulled the scarab from the latch and fastened it onto the pigwidgeon's hat. He grabbed the fae and tossed it into the air, then jumped slightly himself, and slammed the face of his mandolin into the back of the pigwidgeon, destroying the instrument completely. The fae went sailing through the air with a horrified cry, smashing face first into the Moonstruck Bell.
    A deep note sounded as the fae slid to the ground, and the scarab scampered on to the bell's surface. A hauntingly beautiful silver light emanated from the bell as the sound it made became warped and hollow. Suddenly, the light was sucked into the scarab, which glittered darkly for a moment before dropping into the pigwidgeon's lap. The sound of the bell stilled, and then it cracked in half.

***

    Dawn was breaking as Enlay, Nisha, and Campion finished cleaning up the mess they had left in the village. Most of the villagers were groggy, and none seemed to remember the fight. Nevertheless, the trio felt slightly bad about their role in things, and made sure to fix what they could.
    As light streamed over the mountains and into the valley, they made their way back to the bell house. There, sitting on the cracked ruins of the Moonstruck Bell, was a lanky, prismatic fae. He swept he hawkish comb of hair back and looked at the wary group with sparkling eyes.
    "There, wasn't that fun, my friends. And you succeeded! You caught a moonbeam, just like I asked! No, no, I don't want it, yet. But I did want to offer my congratulations, and thank. I didn't expect you to solve all of my puzzles so easily!"
    "You might want to try a bit harder, then, Rhenboe," Nisha scoffed. "I faced harder puzzles in the Shadowmaze, when I was a child. If you want to test Glomdoring, you'll have to do better than that."    
    A cryptic smile flashed across Rhenboe's face. "Perhaps I will, then, my fair lady. You'll have to give me time to think. But I'm not satisfied yet, and I don't intend to stop until I am. Until then, I bid you farewell."
    Rhenboe gave a bow, dipping over until his hair nearly touched the ground. With a sudden flick, he tossed his hair up, releasing a blinding spray of rainbow motes into the dawn air. As things finally settled, he was gone, and with him the Moonstruck Bell and its bell house.
    Enlay fastened his coat and bounded quickly up Campion's back, settling on his friend's shoulders. Nisha gave a half-smile, then caught herself and changed it to a curt nod. Campion merely grinned and started walking.
    "This will make a great story, Enlay. You could call it 'The Black Rabbit of Glomdoring.' I think that has a nice ring to it."
    And so it did.