Ethan Wright and the Curse of Silence (8 page)

Ethan looked up at Wegnel. “Do you know if he’s still there? I mean, can I go and see him?”

“You will see him again indeed,” said Wegnel, looking up from his mug.

Ethan looked at him in disbelief. He had asked many people in Strahlung if they knew the whereabouts of his twin brother, and all this time he just had to ask the alchemist. He wondered how the alchemist knew Ethan would see Isaac again.

Suddenly a wagon approached. Ethan and Wegnel stood up to get a better look. The wagon was slowly being pulled by a massive dark brown horse. There were two men walking next to the horse, guiding it up toward the house.

“He was hurt I’m afraid,” yelled the first man, as they approached.

“WHAT?” bellowed Ethan.

“Odin … your master, he was hurt a bit — he’ll be fine though,” said the man.

The second man helped Odin out of the wagon. It seemed Odin could walk just fine under his own power.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” groused Odin. “I don’t need anyone making any fuss over me — I can handle myself just fine.”

“He’s very stubborn,” said the second man as he got the wagon turned around.

Odin was wearing a cloak with the hood pulled up. The caretaker climbed the staircase, giving Ethan a good look at his injury. Odin had a gash that ran down the length of his face. The gash seemed to have been made by a large claw, with a second gouge down his ear and jaw that was meager in comparison. Dried blood was smeared down the side of his face from someone’s attempt to clean the wound.

Odin smiled at Ethan. “Oh I have had much worse than this I assure you. I will be quite alright.”

Ethan looked at him. “How did this happen?”

“Let me get some herbs on that wound and we can go over the details we can, this will be no problem indeed, I can have you patched up in a minute,” said Wegnel as he reached inside his satchel.

Odin smiled as Ethan helped him up the stairs into the chair on the front porch.

“Thank you, my friends.”

Wegnel spent the next few moments mixing his ingredients and applying the resulting green goop to Odin’s face.

“It seems a giant werewolf was loose, roaming about. My curiosity must have gotten the best of me,” said Odin.

“We ran into a lycanthrope last night …” said Wegnel. “Or at least a very large stone with a severe lycanthropic condition.”

“Indeed, I saw the poison spikes in its foot. If it weren’t for that, and of course that it seemed half blind, I’m afraid it would have been difficult for me to escape … mostly intact …” replied Odin.

Odin looked at Ethan with a concerned expression. “You were very lucky to have survived such an encounter.”

“As are you, Odin.”

“Rest rest, Odin needs to rest now, and I need to be on my way.” Wegnel gathered his remaining supplies and set the small jar of green mystery paste on the table. “Put some more of this on both Odin and Loki tonight and make sure they get plenty of rest — that’s a good lad, bring them by tomorrow for a checkup,” he added.

Ethan nodded. He wanted to ask more questions of the alchemist, but decided he had enough to worry about, what with taking care of his cat and Odin.

Chapter 9
A Trip Through Time

The day’s affairs came to order quickly the next morning. Odin, ignoring his get-rest orders from Wegnel, was up very early. He was drinking tea and making a bustling racket which woke Ethan up. Grappling with the idea of getting out of bed, Ethan pushed the sheets off his face. He was rather glad to see the six-toed cat was again at the foot of his bed, looking as if he were ready to go back to his day-to-day routine. Ethan gave him some attention and then proceeded into the study to look for Odin. He found his caretaker going through shelves that had lacked the organizational aspect of any well-respected mapmaker. He had stirred up quite a bit of dust and was mumbling about the map he had discovered the other day.

“Ah….” Odin looked up at Ethan while holding up a backpack. “Here it has been all along; it is always in the last place you look, but also the last place you expect to find it,” he said with a hint of excitement.

It was raining lightly that morning and thunder was rolling in the distance. It did not seem that the rain would let up any time soon and Ethan was starting to wonder if the weather was affecting Odin’s mind.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” asked Ethan.

“Nonsense my boy, now get your things packed up, we must get going before the storm gets worse,” replied Odin.

Ethan looked surprised, “Odin, what do you mean — Wegnel’s already? What are you up to?”

“Always up to no good I’m afraid,” Odin said with a wink of his eye. “We are going to Ghislain’s.”

“Auren’s father — but … what for?” said Ethan, now wondering if he was to be punished for some additional crime that he was unaware of.

“We have business,” stated Odin. He had already filled his pack with several items — he looked as if he were ready to be gone for a week.

Ethan shrugged his shoulders, downed a mug of tea that Odin had made, and then grabbed his map and the miracle torch that he had received from Wegnel. He stuffed the items in his pockets and walked into the study.

“I’m ready, Odin.”

“Good,” smiled Odin, flinging the pack over his shoulder.

They made their way out the front door and down the trail. They walked briskly to avoid getting soaked. A quickened pace did not seem to help them, for the rain started coming down heavily and they found themselves drenched.

“Well this is mighty fine,” muttered Ethan.

“No matter now, we are almost there!”

They passed Vincent’s store and pushed further down the trail until they arrived at Auren’s house. It was a sturdy-looking stone house built into the side of a very tall hill. It had a very comfortable appearance to it and smoke was billowing from the chimney. They rapped on the door and were greeted immediately by Ghislain. Auren was standing behind his father with a welcoming look on his face.

“Odin!” exclaimed Ghislain with a welcoming smile on his face. This surprised Ethan because in his previous encounters with Ghislain, Auren’s father had never looked particularly approachable. “Come inside out of the rain — got a fire going — come in and dry off a bit,” said Ghislain in his deep, raspy voice. Ghislain was a large and sturdy man. If Auren was the strongest twelve-year-old that Ethan had ever seen, Ghislain was his adult equivalent, being one of the strongest men Ethan had ever met.

Ethan was shivering from the brisk morning and was glad to be out of the rain. The fireplace was a sight to be seen, with stone that reached from floor to ceiling. It almost took up the entire wall, and had a distinctly large opening. The fire crackled with charred logs that had broken in half and nestled in the warm glow from hours of burning. It instantly warmed Ethan as he held his hands toward the fire.

Ghislain’s wife, Isabel, was in the kitchen preparing breakfast for the boys. She was very strict with Auren. Before Isaac went missing, he and Ethan would frequently get scolded for their pranks by Auren’s mother. Even Ghislain, with his enormous build, would tremble at the slightest hint of Isabel’s wrath. But since the disappearance of Isaac, Isabel was much more compassionate with Ethan. She always welcomed him with home-cooked meals and ensured he was keeping up with his studies.

Isabel brought out food and set it on the table in the great room. Fried eggs, tomatoes, sausage, biscuits, and a pudding were served, as well as a large pot of hot honeyed tea. Ethan especially enjoyed Mrs. Faryndon’s food. A full meal was rare for him, growing up without a woman in the house.

“Thanks, Mrs. Faryndon, it’s great,” said Ethan through a mouth stuffed full of food.

“Yes, my dear Isabel, thank you. It’s wonderful,” added Odin, not daring to speak with a full mouth in fear of getting scolded.

“No problem boys, just be sure you finish everything I put out here for ya. You’ll be needin’ your energy,” she said politely.

She was setting out more biscuits and Ethan noticed something he had not seen until now. Isabel had a funny-looking scar on her wrist. Ethan thought it looked similar to a spider’s web, except with a larger pattern. Isabel noticed Ethan looking at her arm and pushed her sleeves down as she headed for the kitchen. Ethan turned and stared at the fire in hopes that he had not offended her in any way.

“So Ethan, Auren tells me that you two encountered a werewolf last night?” asked Ghislain.

“Uh, yeah,” stuttered Ethan

“Boy that must have been exciting, I haven’t seen one of them in almost twenty years! Yes, that must have been exiting indeed,” said Ghislain, chuckling.

“So you didn’t see the werewolf?” asked Ethan.

Ghislain looked a bit surprised. “Well I can say most definitely not, I woulda known if I ran into a beast like that.”

“Well how did Odin…” But Ethan was quickly cut off.

“He may not look it, but I suppose Odin has been known to handle himself quite well in a given situation,” he said in his deep voice as he smiled at Odin.

“I barely made it out with my skin attached,” laughed Odin. “Like the time you got stuck to the Lake Hunter’s tongue — or when you found the magic healing herbs!” Odin and Ghislain laughed loudly.

“Oh, I almost forgot about those! I got so sick — bet I turned three shades of green!” Ghislain was laughing so hard that his eyes were tearing up a bit.

Ethan was starting to realize that these two had quite a history together. They were like two old chums that had been parted for a while. Auren, bored, was now slumped over with his chin resting on his hand. Ethan thought the old stories were fascinating, as he had never heard of this side of his old caretaker.

“Well then,” said Odin. “Down to business, how would you two like to run an errand for Ghislain and me?”

Auren’s head perked up and he sat at attention.

“What sort of errand?” asked Ethan, curious.

Odin reached into his pack, pulled out a large metal shackle and placed it on the table with a clank. It had two spikes that protruded from the inside of the ring and a locking mechanism on the outside. It was made of iron and showed signs of rust, or possibly blood that had dried and crusted along the inner edge.

“What is it?” asked Auren.

“It is a means of control for an uncontrollable beast,” said Ghislain.

“You mean the werewolf?” asked Ethan.

“Actually, Wegnel said it’s a Stonewolf,” replied Auren smugly.

“Correct… “ answered Odin, “…on both accounts. The creature is known as the Stonewolf for obvious alterations made to its skin. And
this
device, which was until recently attached, is called a pinch-shackle. They have been around for years and years — very old alchemy associated with devices such as these.”

Ethan sat forward in his chair. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean to say is someone, or some
thing
, was attempting to control this creature. What I don’t know is who, or what.” Odin grabbed a small pair of glasses from his pack and held them out in front of his face to further examine the device. “I have never seen one quite this size before — notice the markings where the shackle pinches shut — some type of pattern there.”

Ghislain leaned in. “Looks like a large chain connects to it … yet — there doesn’t appear to be any real damage to the contraption.”

“Exactly,” murmured Odin. “Which can only mean one thing.”

“Yep,” chuckled Ghislain.

“Well … what?” exclaimed Auren.

“The creature didn’t escape … it was set loose,” answered Ethan, looking both disturbed and excited he had come to the proper conclusion.

“Correct,” said Odin.

The boys looked at each other and then back at Odin, who was still examining the device through his glasses.

“How exactly did you say you got this off the Stonewolf?” asked Ghislain.

“I didn’t say,” quipped Odin, lifting his chin to remind Ghislain of the giant gashes the Stonewolf had left on his face. “Let’s just say it was at my own personal expense….”

Ghislain nodded.

“When you said alchemy was a part of this, what exactly did you mean?” asked Ethan.

“What I mean is, certain metal objects can have alchemical properties associated with them. This particular object, made of iron, has elements of manipulation outside the standard forging process,” explained Odin.

“You sounded like Wegnel for a second there,” chuckled Auren.

“Indeed,” replied Odin as he put the glasses back in his pack, pulling out a piece of scrap parchment. “Although I am hesitant to say, it may be more alarming that the creature itself was still alive, having been altered through alchemical manipulation. No doubt the last werewolf that Ghislain saw, several years ago, is the very same Stonewolf that was seen here in Strahlung,” he added, making a rub of the markings on the pinch-shackle with the scrap of parchment. Odin held the rub and looked at it through the light of the fireplace. Satisfied with his work, he rolled the parchment up and placed it in his pocket.

“This leads us to your errand, boys,” said Ghislain, fidgeting with the pinch-shackle. “Seems I used to make runs to Tirguard now and again, however I’m afraid that I must stick around home or get into trouble with Mrs. Faryndon …” Ghislain ended in a whisper, “and Odin here could no longer fight his way out of a paper bag, if you — er, know what I mean.” He chuckled at Odin. “I need you two to investigate this symbol in Tirguard and bring back …”

But Ghislain was interrupted by Ethan. “Did you say Tirguard?” Ghislain slumped back in his chair and remained silent. Ethan then looked over to Odin. “Well, let’s have it then — this place is real? Tirguard, it exists?” asked Ethan loudly.

“It does,” answered Odin.

“How long have you known? All of you! HOW LONG?”

The room stayed silent for a few moments and then Odin took a deep breath. “I have known all along, Ethan,” replied Odin. The deep gashes in his withered face brought little sympathy from Ethan.

“My brother has been missing for over three years. I have missed school … and missed out on so many other things to go and look for him, and it turns out there is a secret city that everyone knows about but me? How is this possible?”