The wall phone rang and echoed down the majestic halls of the Siltmoor estate, filling empty rooms that were cleaned to the highest standard. The house appeared abandoned except for the living room in the back where the high-pitched rings of the phone were coming from. The phone was attached to a small fitting next to the entryway surrounded by simple lavender wallpaper that clearly didn’t match well with the light blue color of the phone. An old, bright yellow armchair and a blue sofa sat in the middle of the room with a small coffee table in the middle. It appeared that this wasn’t a room where the Longreeds often took guests. On the sofa sniffling and rubbing his eyes, Freddie Longreed was curled into a ball. His body shivering and twitching with sadness. A wide, ominous shadow encased Freddie that came from the other side of the room near the phone.

The phone’s receiver was lifted and on the other end was a young female operator asking in a chipper voice. “This is Rockliffe Emergency Services, I am Marie. We received a call from this residence at about nine o’clock, is that correct?”

A low, strong voice crackled on the line. “Yes, that is correct. I am here at 2010 Langshard Roadway. There has been a kidnapping. Mr. and Mrs. Longreed have gone missing. Get here quick.”

“Who was kidnapped, sir?”

The voice trembled for a quick moment. “Randall and Joanne Longreed.”

“I will alert a response team and have them depart immediately. In the meantime, make sure everyone is safe and do not touch any materials that can help in the investigation. They will be there soon. Are you okay? Is there anyone else there with you?”

“Yes, I’m fine and the Longreed’s boy is alright as well.”

“Ok, sir. I am going to need your name to reference the call.”

There was a long pause and then, “It’s Tongus J. Rotmyre.”

The operator paused for a moment as if she recognized the name and with a soft, polite voice said, “Okay, Mr. Rotmyre. I will mark your name here. Thank you for calling Rockliffe police department. Stay safe and our response team will be there in a few minutes.”

“Thank you.” A large, thick hand hung up the phone.

Mr. Rotmyre sighed and looked over at the boy on the couch. He adjusted the position of his fancy necktie. He pulled on his pressed collar and ran down his hand on his light blue dress shirt like it was an iron straightening out a few unwanted wrinkles. He cleared his throat and let out what he could. “Um… your parents will be fine. I’ve called the police and they will be here any minute. It’s best to remain calm.”

Freddie squirmed on the couch away from Rotmyre with his short snout tucked under his arms. There was a few more minutes of sniffling and crying.

Rotmyre turned around and paced feverishly by the phone. Randall Longreed was his longest-standing employee. He could remember all the times he rewarded Randall with employee of the month awards and the pictures they took for the local newspapers after a great land deal. He was a good, honest employee who helped make him large amounts of money.

The living room was small and there was a wall light behind Rotmyre, casting a large wide shadow on all the furniture. He ran his right hand over his bald lizard like head and took a deep breath. Keep it together. The press will surely know of this. It’s too juicy of a story to let up. Two adults kidnapped near Malnumbra Forest? My face will surely be plastered on the front page with an obnoxious and false headline. Rotmyre grinded his teeth at the idea. The police he could handle, but one thing he couldn’t stand was bad press.

The entire house was quiet and still. Freddie started to calm down a bit and from what Rotmyre could tell, was taking a nap. All of this must have wiped him out. He walked over to the coffee table beside the armchair and sofa and picked up a rolled-up piece of parchment paper. It felt fragile and possibly a thousand years old in his thick, calloused hands. In splattered ink was the harrowing message he read a few minutes ago. He wouldn’t have believed it if he didn’t hear the screams from the housekeeper or the light conversations shared among the rest of the household staff. Mostly everyone was gone at this point. Rotmyre saw to it.

He read over the lines of the message repeatedly, hoping he missed some clue in the text as to where Randall and his wife were taken. He only had a few minutes to come up with something to say to the police. Come on… think. Think. A few minutes passed and he didn’t have much. Only a possible location. The forest. He took them to Malnumbra Forest. That son of a - The hallway clock ticked and tocked as the seconds and minutes flew by. He was running out of time. He had to have something to tell them. Something that could help them in their investigation. He stopped his pacing and stared at Freddie.

The young Longreed boy was still curled up on the armchair. His eyes closed, breathing steady and slow. Rotmyre was jealous of the boy and his innocence. He wouldn’t be expected to rise and give out useful information. The police probably wouldn’t even question him unless they felt like it was absolutely necessary. He sighed and shook his head. What am I thinking? He’s just a boy.

Rotmyre’s heart skipped a beat.

Ring! The Longreed’s had a distinguishable light flutter in their doorbell. Rotmyre just assumed it was broken, but at this moment it didn’t matter. It made his body tense. He looked at Freddie, who didn’t move at all. Must be in a deep sleep. Good for you, kid.

Ring!

Rotmyre walked over to the hall and passed the thirty or so photos of Dan and Freddie on the walls. He stopped by a flower framed mirror and checked himself out. He was wearing a dark blue vest over his dress shirt and dark blue slacks. He adjusted his yellow tie and his leather belt. Just like the Longreeds, appearance was everything. He was very tall, easily reaching over six feet. His body was incredibly built with large tree trunks for arms and a wide barreled chest. He ran his tongue over his flat rows of teeth that were attached to his lizard like head. He dipped his fingers into a small canister of oil he pulled out of his vest, ran his hand over his bald head to ensure it would have an added luster and opened the door.

On the other side of the entryway stood two police officers. On the left was a tall and thin iguana with an oversized uniform as if the police force couldn’t find a slim size in their wardrobe and the other was a shorter and far wider frog with plenty of belly hanging over his belt.

“Good morning,” the portly frog said.

Rotmyre swallowed. “Good morning.”

The frog sighed like this wasn’t his first call of the day. He held up a clipboard to his face. “Are you a Mr. Tongus J. Rotmyre?”

Rotmyre nodded.

“Good. I’m Officer Gobb.” He waved his arm to his right. “and this is my partner, Officer Lash. We were sent by the Rockliffe Police department to investigate a kidnapping, is that correct?”

Rotmyre nodded.

Gobb sniffed and lowered his clipboard. “May we come in?”

Rotmyre looked over at Officer Lash. He looked like he couldn’t be older than sixteen with curtain rods for arms, probably why he couldn’t fit into the cookie cutter police uniform that required a tight belt wrapped around the fabric that bunched up in areas. Man is Rockliffe getting desparate that they are hiring kids now?

Rotmyre nodded and shifted himself over to let the two officers inside.

The Siltmoor Estate was built to impress. The police officers walked into a decorative circular foyer with a gilded framed door that led to a coat closet that stood out from a scene of a springtime meadow painted on the concave stone walls that gave the effect you were standing inside a round gazebo. They looked up and admired the domed ceiling decorated with golden paint to look as the sun, the edges shimmering in golden light. The foyer emptied into a hall that stretched down to the back of the house with doors leading to at least three rooms. At the end on the left was the open arched entryway to the kitchen and breakfast nook, where Dan had seen his parents just moments ago. There was a myriad of photos featuring Dan and Freddie from track meets to elementary school graduation, framed and purposefully placed on the walls to catch your eye. Gobb rolled his eyes as he looked over at his young partner while nudging his head to the photos. Gobb asked to see the weathered piece of parchment and the ‘Longreed boy’. Rotmyre knew his first name was Freddie or Frankie, but to avoid embarrassment he just accepted Longreed boy.

As they reached the end of the hall Rotmyre led them into the room across the hall from the kitchen. Freddie was safe and sound, napping on the armchair, just as he left him. Rotmyre sighed with relief.

Officer Lash tiptoed inside once he saw Freddie, and gently placed his hands on the furniture to keep his balance as he arched his back like a cat burglar. Officer Gobb nudged his young partner in the shoulder in a way that Rotmyre could tell meant, ‘cut it out’. Lash cleared his throat, straightened his stance and nodded.

Gobb kept his voice low. “So … where is this letter that you received?”

Rotmyre nearly forgot about the entire thing. He reached into the right-side pocket of his slacks and pulled out the now folded piece of parchment.

Gobb took it, clipped it onto his clipboard and delved into the mysterious riddle. It took a few moments and then he passed his clipboard to Lash. “Hmmm. So this is the only piece of evidence given to you about the whereabouts of Mr. and Mrs. Longreed?”

Rotmyre nodded. He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“And are there any other children, other than the boy here?”

Rotmyre sighed and scratched his head. “There was an older boy. David … Dankus … no, um … Daniel. That’s his name, Daniel.”

“And have you seen Daniel recently?”

Rotmyre knew exactly what the cops were thinking. How could you not know your employee’s own kids name? Your top employee? He then thought about how the reporters would write the whole thing. Insensitive Rotmyre could barely remember his employee’s son name and couldn’t recall his whereabouts. Was he under the influence of drugs? Or does he just simply not care? He knew most people would think the latter. It’s what he would think.

“Um, Mr. Rotmyre,” Gobb said now with a bit of impatience.

Rotmyre cleared his throat and looked up at Gobb.
“Have you seen Daniel recently?”

“Oh, yes, umm… I haven’t.”

Both officers began to ask questions. Gobb attentively listening and filling out his clipboard. His young partner observing over his shoulder.

Gobb pulled out the scroll once more and examined it. “Hmm. …” He tilted his head toward Lash. “We should have that new detective … ah, what’s his name?”

“Brooks.”

Gobb took a deep breath. “Yes. Brooks. We should have Brooks take a look at this note.” He dropped it as a burning pain seared his skin. “What the hell was that?”

Lash bent down to pick it up off the floor and, with a nervous flinch, retracted his hand. “It’s hot.”

Gobb cleared his throat, realizing he was on the job and regained his composure. “Has this happened before, Mr. Rotmyre?”

Rotmyre’s blank expression pretty much told them, “No I haven’t.” He took a step backward, feeling an incredible tightness around his chest. He took a few breaths to relieve the pressure.

Gobb wrapped his hand in a handkerchief he took out earlier from his chest pocket and picked up the letter. “Mr. Rotmyre. One thing is certain that this warlock is using some magic tricks to mess with us.”

Rotmyre noticed that etched in blazing orange letters was the phrase Dan and Mark had seen only a few moments earlier. He pointed to it to attract Gobb’s attention to it.

No one else can know of your journey.

“What the hell?” Gobb exclaimed.

Lash fidgeted over Gobb’s shoulder. A look of complete fright on his iguana face. “It was listening to us.”

Gobb snapped his head toward Rotmyre. “Did this happen when you called us?”

Rotmyre shook his head.

Gobb sighed and rubbed his bald frog head. “You’ll have to excuse us for a moment. We need to report our findings back to headquarters. Don’t go anywhere.”

Rotmyre nodded.

Gobb and Lash left the rear living room and returned to their squad car which was the standard black and white sedan with a curved design smooth as a slipper. Gobb wrote the slim report with Rotmyre’s information, opened the shimmering metal door, and sat in the front seat, his bulbous form drooping over outside the car. He reported his findings to HQ with a black CB radio and lifted off the seat, with what Rotmyre could describe as, a fat man’s workout.

Rotmyre waited by the front door of the Longreed home with anticipation. Hoping his words were well said and placed. Anyone was sure to see that Mr. Tongus J. Rotmyre was an innocent and caring man who only wanted to find his employee and his wife safe and sound. He raised a brow when his thought was interrupted by a loud gasp of excitement by Officer Lash.

“You can’t be serious?” the young officer beamed.

Gobb nodded and furrowed his brow to let Lash know that he needed to check his behavior in front of Rotmyre.

Lash got the message and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t think that the Captain was going to join Brooks.”

Gobb appeared perturbed by the situation, but quickly relaxed. “Yeah, well, maybe they can solve this riddle and we’ll be back at headquarters in no time.”

Lash’s scaly cheeks went a slight tint of red and he looked away. “What if he doesn’t like me?”

Gobb slapped him on the shoulder. “It’s ok, Lenno. Grout isn’t going to bite.”

“But the stories about him. He’s survived the Clash War unscathed and he took down the Griffundus Gang and the Father of all Crime, Finnel Gringo and –“

Gobb waved his arm down to silence him. “I know. I know, but he’s still just an Amphian. He would certainly make sure you knew that probably more than all of those things.”

Lash took a deep breath. “Okay thanks. I have always wanted to meet Captain Grout. He’s one of the reasons why I joined the force.”

Rotmyre moved toward them too intrigued and curious to stay oblivious by the front door.

Gobb noticed Rotmyre’s large figure approaching them. “Ah, Mr. Rotmyre. I trust everything is okay with the Longreed boy.”

Rotmyre nodded. He didn’t really check on him, but he had to make sure to keep a positive headline. “I didn’t mean to intrude, but it seemed as if there was something wrong and I just can’t sit down knowing my good friend Randall is out there.”

Lash consoled him in the best way he could. “It’s all okay, us at the Rockliffe Police Department will do our best to find Randall.”

Gobb tilted his head back, nodded and looked at Lash with a father like pride.

Rotmyre clenched his mouth tight and cracked a light grin. “I feel assured knowing that you are on the job, Officer Lash. Is there any way I can help?”

Gobb sighed. “If you would like to help, I think it would be good to stay here with the Longreed boy. He’ll need to see a familiar face to comfort him when he wakes up. Plus we’ll try to have some officers stationed here just in case this Warlock person decides to come back,” Gobb ordered politely.

Rotmyre didn’t want to sit on the sidelines. Another headline came to mind. “Concerned Employer saves kidnapped employee – Ignoring police warnings.” Then a particular smile came to his thin, lizard lips. He nodded in agreement to Gobb’s orders. “Thanks, Officer Gobb. It certainly reassures me that Randall will be in good hands.”

Gobb turned back to the car, his wobbling mass, bouncing left and right. “You are doing well, Lenno.”

Lash smiled.

“You know you have come a long way since you joined the force a year ago,” Gobb admitted.

Lash’s smile extended up to the corners of his eyes.

Rotmyre didn’t want to intrude upon what appeared to be a touching moment between the two of them and patiently waited for another fifteen minutes near the front door until two more black and white sedans pulled up to the Siltmoor.

“I didn’t think there would be this many?” Lash observed.

Gobb studied the windshield to each vehicle, trying to assess who was sent over. “I guess the Captain thought it was necessary to bring backup.”

A tall gray crocodile and a short, stout alligator emerged out of the first vehicle, appearing like Gobb and Lash in their bodily differences. They casually walked up to the three of them. The gray crocodile reached out his hand to Rotmyre. A warm smile etched on his snout. “Hello I am Officer Bambo and,” he extended his arm to the short alligator next to him, “this is my partner Sargeant Reck.”

Rotmyre shook their hands, with a professional firmness. “I am Tongus J. Rotmyre, Esquire.” He thought it appropriate to add his customary title even though he gave it to himself, but titles meant something in Amphius even in the small corner of Edora Pond.

Bambo’s brow rose with curiosity and he shared a glance with Reck. “Well it’s nice to meet you, Mr. Rotmyre. You can feel assured that they will find the culprit behind this mess.”

Rotmyre shook his head as something didn’t seem right in what Bambo said. “They?” he questioned. “You are not going to help them?”

Bambo callously shook his head. “No, we are assigned to stay here with you and the child. To make sure you are safe.”

“Stay here?” Rotmyre asked, but the question would have to wait as two more officers approached the house.

Bambo and Reck stepped aside to allow a tall, dark brown crocodile with shoulder length golden hair that covered one of his eyes walked inside followed by a bald kimono dragon that had a stream of flame tattooed up her light green neck in black ink.

The brown crocodile nodded to Rotmyre. He seemed a bit shyer than Bambo and nodded his head. There was an awkward pause until the kimono dragon pressed hard on the blonde-haired crocodile’s back, nearly sending him to the floor. He steadied himself and looked up at Rotmyre his hair having shifted over to the other eye. “H-Hello … I am Officer S-Scales,” he murmured. He shook Rotmyre’s hand and silently stood there, avoiding eye contact with most of the officers there.

The kimono dragon patted Scales’ shoulder. “Good Job, Xakus.” She then reached out her thick hand to Rotmyre. ”And I’m Officer Longfire.”

Rotmyre was taken by her deep, feminine voice. Her arms were muscular and large, giving her the need to roll up her sleeves. She firmly shook Rotmyre’s hand and then greeted the other officers outside the house. It took a moment for Rotmyre to regain his voice and when she was out of earshot. “A pleasure.”

The walkway outside the Siltmoor was now filled with conversing police officers, mostly discussing family and sports. They all seemed to have known each other and probably spent lots of time in the office by the water cooler. Rockliffe was mostly a quiet region of Amphius with not a lot of people or trouble. Longfire nudged Scales and made a remark that turned his face slightly red. He abruptly turned to Rotmyre, “Excuse me … where is the bathroom?” Rotmyre pointed down the hall to the second door on the right. “Thank you,” Scales mumbled as he hurried over to the door.

The chatter and jovial talking ceased as another sedan rolled up to the house. Rotmyre could hear the breeze passing by as everyone was silent. It wasn’t until Rotmyre saw him that he understood. Walking up the driveway with a slight limp with his left leg was an old, weathered crocodile. He had a droopy lip on the left side of his face, a saber shaped scar across his right eye, short gray hair, and with only half an index and middle finger on his left hand. He made a low grunting sound as he walked as if each step was painful and stopped in front of the crew. To his right was a young red salamander, who was idyllic in comparison. No blemishes or scars on his bald head or a limp in his step. He was in a unique type of uniform as well. He was wearing an oversized trench coat with a high collar and had on a pair of khaki pants. Rotmyre instantly recognized the garb of a detective.

The old crocodile looked over at Gobb. “I will need a quick report, Sargeant.” He said in a gruff tone.

Rotmyre extended out his hand, but the old crocodile was looking right passed him. Rotmyre dealt with people who ignored him before. It was his finest trait in being able to get those people to listen.

Gobb cleared his throat. “Um. Yeah … Randall and Joanne Longreed were taken, their oldest son is missing, the younger son is in the living room down the hall, and this,” he pulled out the scroll, “was on Mr. Rotmyre’s person. It definitely leads us to think this warlock is real.”

Grout grabbed the scroll and studied it in his hands. He looked up at Gobb, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Early today that piece of paper burned like fire and had words highlighted in the message.”

Grout furrowed his brow. “Which ones?”

Gobb walked over and pointed to the passage.

Grout studied it and sighed. “Thank you, Sargeant Gobb.” He rolled it back up, put it into his chest pocket, then addressed his crew of officers. “Now I just got off the radio with Chief Zongler and he wants us to investigate the forest for the two families.”

A commotion of whispering followed, but Grout cleared his throat and the entire crew were silent again. “This leaves me in a tight spot as we all know that the forest is off limits after the Treaty of the Twin Pines, but the Chief and I agreed this was an important mission in which old laws needed to be ignored.”

Light whispering broke the silence, but Grout continued, “And that means that we will have to lie to the public about this mission that means no telling your love ones, girlfriends, childhood friends, nobody can know about this. This mission is completely off the books. I understand this is an unorthodox mission, but it’s an important one. We can’t let the people of Mammalia know about this incident. If we fail, we can say that we tried to save some of our own citizens, but our failure, if we are not too careful, may bring about another war.” He paused for a moment to catch his breath.

Lash was too curious to keep his chatty mouth shut. “Captain, do the Council of Nine know about our mission?”

Grout shook his head. “No, but if you tell anybody about this, including the Council … there will be severe consequences.”

Lash stepped backward, keeping his humbled face away from his Captain. Rotmyre thought he saw the young officer’s large eyes redden.

Grout grunted through the oblong opening that exposed his yellowed teeth on the left side of his mouth, then continued. “So it is imperative that we succeed and keep this mission a secret or we threaten the very lives we have sworn to protect and serve.”

The silence lingered for a little bit, truly showing Grout’s control. Everyone in front of the Silmoor knew who was in charge. Rotmyre thought how anxious Gobb and Lash were only ten minutes ago. Now he understood why.

Sergeant Gobb cleared his throat. “What are your orders, Captain?”

Grout stared at him for a moment and looked over at the two officers that arrived in the first car. “Bambo and Reck, I’ve been told you are staying here to keep guard. All I ask is you stay vigilant. If this warlock is real, he will have methods of seeing you without you knowing. Anything that looks out of the ordinary you look at it with the highest scrutiny.” Bambo stood about a few inches above Grout. He nodded his head and cleared his throat. “Yessir.” He pointed over to the officers from the second car. “Scales, Longfire,” and the officers from a fourth car that just showed up, a crimson skinned toad and a frog with skin bright as a dandelion. “Brightsun, and Leafshot will be accompanying us into the forest.”

He then stopped and looked over at the young iguana officer that had interrupted him earlier. “And of course, you Sergeant and your partner, Officer –. “

“Lash,” Gobb replied.

Grout was silent for a moment. He didn’t like being interrupted, but he was patient with the sergeant. He at least had rank over the other officers. He callously nodded and added, “and Officer Lash will be joining us into the forest.” Grout wasn’t one to speak for too long, usually thinking silence and facial gestures spoke louder than words.

Lash smiled as Gobb playfully punched him in the shoulder.

“You’re part of the crew now,” said Gobb

Lash nodded and looked at all the smiles that surrounded him.

“You now just need to know when to shut your mouth,” Gobb added.

Lash’s smile quickly drooped to a frown.

Grout nodded to Lash while rubbing out a smudge on his captain’s badge. The room was still and quiet for a moment. Everything stopped and went for Grout like the world revolved around him. He pulled up his hand, checked a rusty pocket watch that he whipped around his knobby index finger along a shimmering golden chain, perfectly landing in the palm of his hand. He checked the time and cleared his throat. “Now is the time to prepare.” He pointed down the hill toward the forest. “Meet me down the road at the Snag Cottage in around ten to fifteen minutes. Make sure to have a tent to share with your partner, food, supplies, and your firearm.” He nodded and then returned to his car parked along the Langshard Roadway followed by the young, silent detective. Rotmyre realized he didn’t catch the young detective’s name. There was a moment of silence, as the rest of the officers waited until Grout was out of earshot and then they began to talk again.

Rotmyre studied the officers selected by Grout to go into the forest. He already knew that the person to impress and build trust with would be Grout, but like most of his real estate deals he wanted to get the lay of the land. From what he could tell, Gobb and Lash didn’t seem much of a threat since Grout already expressed irritation toward the young rookie; Longfire and Scales – he was more worried about Longfire possibly pummeling him into a tree or into the ground than the meager, stumbling Scales; There was also Brightsun and Leafshot, he couldn’t tell what type of men they were by their first appearance, but seeing how they didn’t flinch at Grout’s irritated voice, he knew they were strong willed and probably his biggest threat out of the officers; Then finally there was the mysterious young detective, who this entire time didn’t speak a word. He just stood at an isolated spot near the front door, staring with eagle like eyes as if he was perched atop a high tree hundreds of yards away. What does he do for Grout? No one else seemed to talk to him, which gave Rotmyre the impression that they didn’t really cross paths across the water cooler at work.

Rotmyre noticed the young detective walking back toward the house with a filled pack strapped to his back. The first thing he noticed as he approached him was how close in height they were. Brooks was far leaner than Rotmyre, but they nearly met eye to eye. Rotmyre smiled and reached out his hand. “I am Tongus J. Rotmyre, Esquire.”

The young detective didn’t seem perturbed by Rotmyre’s appearance. He reached out his hand that slunk out of a wide coat sleeve and shook his hand. “I am Detective Brooks,” the young salamander said in a soft voice. He retracted his hand awkwardly and moved past Rotmyre into the house.

Rotmyre nodded and smiled. “Thank you, Detective Brooks. I’m sure you will do just fine.”

“Brooks!” came Grout’s rough, booming voice from the road.

The young detective nodded and disappeared down the front drive.

Rotmyre kept an eye on him until he was gone then returned his attention to the rest of the officers.

Bambo and Reck approached him. “Mr. Rotmyre, we would like you to join us as we check on Freddie Longreed,” said Officer Reck in a calm, polite voice.

Rotmyre’s eyes lit up. “Of course.” He escorted them to the back of the house. Bambo and Reck assessed the security of the room. Bambo asked, “Is there a basement to the home or a secure location we can send you to until the party return from their mission?”

Rotmyre thought about it. He didn’t go to the basement of the Siltmoor frequently, but he remembered going there once. “Yes, they have a wine cellar I believe that is connected to the kitchen.

Reck nodded, “Mind showing us?”

Rotmyre shook his head and led Reck through the kitchen to a small pantry on the far side that had a door, leading to a narrow stairway into a dark basement. Rotmyre flipped a light switch at the bottom of the stairs as two old mining lamps turned on revealing a large rectangular room with two casks of wine on the far side with the remaining walls lined with wine bottles. In between the two casks there was a wooden door.

“Where does that lead to?” asked Reck, pointing to the door.

“I believe that’s a storage closet,” replied Rotmyre.

Reck walked over easily to the door since he was no taller than the casks of wine that guarded it. He opened the door revealing a small closet that mostly held some old toys and lawn equipment. There was just enough space in there to fit two people comfortably. “I am going to suggest that you and Freddie stay down here until things blow over.”

“Down here? In the basement? What if the warlock gets down here?” said Rotmyre. “There is no way to escape down here?”

As Rotmyre made his case, Reck raised a brow, walked over to the wall next to the casks and pressed his hand up on it. “There’s air escaping into here.” He pressed onto the wall that wasn’t made out of a sturdy brick but bent inward and sprung back. He pressed along the wall at different parts trying to find a seam and expose it. After thirty seconds or so of exploring, Reck was able to open a hidden side entrance to the basement made out of thin metal. It led to a circular stone tunnel that was well lit with natural light, that went down about thirty yards toward a steel wired gate. Reck smiled, “Well I found your exit.”

They walked down the tunnel that was only six feet high, making Rotmyre hunch over. Reck comfortably walked the entire distance and stopped at the gate. It had a slide bolt locking mechanism that Reck easily unlocked from the inside and pulled open the gate. They walked out into the sunlight and found themselves near the west wall of the estate. “Well here’s where you can escape to if you feel like the warlock is inside the basement with you.”

Rotmyre kept his mouth shut as they walked back into the tunnel, locked the gate and shut the hidden door.

Reck showed Rotmyre how he could pry open the hidden door if they were in a jam. Rotmyre just nodded and smiled.

They returned to the rear living room upstairs and noticed that Freddie was awake talking to Bambo. Rotmyre’s heart stopped.

“So what happened after you read the note?” Bambo asked now within earshot of Rotmyre and Reck.

Freddie rubbed his eyes and looked up at Rotmyre, having noticed them entering into the room. He pointed his index finger toward them. “Mr. Rotmyre came over and told me everything was going to be okay and that he was going to take care of it.”

Bambo and Reck both looked over at Rotmyre, who let out a small smirk.

Bambo continued his questioning, “Do you know where your brother may have gone?”

Freddie shook his head.

Reck stood behind Bambo who was knelt down by the couch. Both now near the same height. Bambo sighed and paused to think of another question. Rotmyre noticed a paper and clipboard in his hand. “Well, thanks Freddie. You get some rest now okay. You’re safe.”

Freddie nodded and started to close his eyes again.

Bambo stood up and looked at Rotmyre and spoke in a soft voice, “Can we talk in private?”

Rotmyre nodded and motioned toward the kitchen. His stomach tensed as they moved onto the bright, tiled floor.

Bambo sat in the breakfast nook where Mr and Mrs. Longreed were earlier that morning. He scratched his head and pulled up his clipboard. “So Mr. Rotmyre a few things I was able to learn from Freddie … good kid by the way. First, we know that the warlock has no relation to the Longreeds. Second, Freddie said that his brother was hanging with a kid named, Mark Snag who lives down the road.”

“Yes, that’s the family who live in the cabin by the woods,” Rotmyre added.

Bambo nodded, “Exactly. I guess there weren’t kind words shared between … “ he checked his notes, “Dan and his parents.” He looked over at Reck. “Dan’s the brother’s name.”

Reck nodded.

“So I can assume that Dan probably ran away with his friend Mark.”

“Where?” Reck asked.

“Malnumbra Forest,” Rotmyre interjected.

“My thoughts exactly,” Bambo said.

“Bambo, Reck. We are leaving,” came a familiar feminine voice from the hall.

“Okay. Be right in,” Reck answered.

They walked into the foyer and saw most of the officers with backpacks over their shoulders. Some of the packs were larger than others, Rotmyre assumed they were the ones carrying the tents. Longfire was standing outside the main entrance. “Alright Grout wants us at the Snag home in a few … and Bambo and Reck,” she said.

“Yes,” they both answered.

“Grout stated he wants updates radioed into headquarters every hour.”

“Will do,” Reck responded.

She looked at them one more time and nodded. “Let’s go men.”

Rotmyre realized the only two not there were Grout and Brooks. He couldn’t just sit back and wait like a coward. He ran back into the kitchen and toward the back stairwell.

“Hey Rotmyre,” Bambo called after him, “Where are you going?”

Rotmyre ignored him as he traversed across the dining room and into the western spiral staircase. He leaped from step to step as he move to the second floor and saw a wide hallway that went across the center of the house. He saw two doorways on either side and a hall that went southward toward the pond and ended to a wide bay window that let in a lot of natural light.

He went down the eastern hallway and searched through either doorway. The one on the left was Freddie’s room with his toys littering the floor. The one on the right led into a master bedroom. It was a pretty massive room with enough safe to fit a long, dining room table. Rotmyre traversed across the bed toward the closet on the far-left wall. He searched through the closet until he found along the floor a camping bag – probably one that Longreed would have taken on his surveying jobs. He took it out and ran to their master bathroom. He took any toiletries that he though he needed from the bathroom and stuffed them into the bag. He sifted through Randall’s underwear drawer and found a few pairs he thought that might fit him. He sifted through some clothes and then ran into the kitchen and grabbed a few bagged snacks, stuffing them all into the bag. He rushed to the hallway entrance and stopped. He looked back toward the kitchen counter as his eyes widened. He grabbed a sharp cutting knife off the counter and wrapped it a pair of underwear. “Hopefully I won’t have to use this,” he muttered under his breath.

Bambo and Reck entered the kitchen as Rotmyre was putting the knife into his bag.

“Hey, what do you think you are doing?”

Rotmyre shook as he heard Reck’s voice enter the kitchen. He took a deep breath and turned around, a nice smile spanning across his thick-skinned face. “I’m going to have a little chat with the Captain.” He brushed himself by Reck.

“Hey! You were told to stay here!” Reck called down the hallway.

Rotmyre calmly walked out of the Longreed home, ignoring Reck.

Reck reached for his hand radio and pressed the transceiver. “Captain, Mr. Rotmyre is coming your way.”

Rotmyre squinted his eyes in the bright summer sunlight as he walked out of the front door. He adjusted the strap on his shoulder and looked down the hill toward the Snag cottage. The police cars were already parked along the street and he spotted a few of the officers meeting in the back yard. He sighed and walked down to the gate that Dan had exited earlier that morning that crashed with a loud whine behind him. He made it to the front of the Snag home when he was able to hear Grout talking from the back yard. He hurried through the front door of the cottage, traversed through the hallway into the kitchen. He held up a piece of cloth to his snout as he stepped over the kitchen floor and the pools of blood. The stench of expired, warm milk stung his nostrils. What did this?

As he made it to the backyard, all the police officers were standing at attention as Grout spoke to his men. “As you were collecting your things. Detective Brooks and I have been investigating the Snag home and the message that was left by this supposed ‘Warlock of the Forest’. Detective Brooks believes that the perpetrator is hiding the parents in a Clash War battleground within Malnumbra Forest. I agree with Detective Brooks and have planned out a course of action.” He pointed over at the trees behind him. “We first go into the forest, at the ready, with your firearms at the ready. We find any sign of them and follow those signs as best we can. Be on guard and prepared for anything,” He eyed the blood-stained screen door, still dangling from its hinges. He paused for a moment then continued. “We need to be vigilant and steadfast. Be ready to fire your weapon if you see anything threatening your life or that of your partner. Nothing can be trusted in the forest.”

Lash raised his eager hand like a teacher’s pet. “What are you expecting us to find in there, Captain?”

Grout held back a frustrated outburst after being interrupted for the hundredth time. His voice remained calm and smooth. “To be completely honest. I don’t know.” The smile on Lash’s face waned. “Stay at the ready.”

Lash cleared his throat and nodded.

Grout sighed callously. “Well I can’t warn you enough. We will walk in two lines. Get in formation. Partners touching shoulders.”

Rotmyre took advantage of the hustle and bustle and stood behind Brightsun and Leafshot at the back of the line. Grout noticed from the corner of his eye. It wasn’t hard to see an enormous lizard with a backpack, standing behind two short frogs. He told Brooks to wait for him and hobbled to the back.

“Mr. Rotmyre,” Grout grunted, “What are you doing here?”

Rotmyre’s soft eyes crossed Grout’s gray, emotionless pair. “I am getting in line of course.” If unsure how to act, play the fool.

Grout shook his head and gestured Rotmyre to step out of the line.

Rotmyre was confused, acting innocently. “Something wrong?”

Grout stood with his arm stretched out, staring now deeply into Rotmyre’s eyes. Rotmyre could have sworn he saw a hint of hazel in them. “Mr. Rotmyre, I would like to speak with you.” His voice grew gruffer and more irritated.

Rotmyre followed his orders and stood out of line.

Grout led them to the side of the Snag’s garage, dark and gloomy shadows covered about a ten-foot space beyond the wall. Rotmyre stood up against the wall in the darkest part of the shade. Grout stood only a few feet away from him, his weather grayed head standing almost to Rotmyre’s chin. Rotmyre felt cornered as he felt himself backing up onto the wall. “Mr. Rotmyre, you need to be back at the Longreed estate with the boy.”

Rotmyre raised his thick hands and said in a soft voice. “Please, Captain Grout if I can only come to make sure that my employee is okay.”

Grout shook his old, weathered head. His droopy lip wiggled back and forth, spewing saliva onto the ground. “No, even if you care about your employee the mission is too sensitive.”

Rotmyre tried another route. He kept his innocent voice. “Captain, I’m sure you have lost men over the years especially in your time in the Clash War. I only ask that from one leader to another that I have this chance to make sure my - .”

Grout shook his head again. “No.”

Rotmyre was starting to feel the pressure. He needed to come up with something quick. “Look, I promised Randall I would take care of him and his family and I want to fulfill that promise.” His voice sounded urgent and slightly desperate.

Grout just shook his head again like an annoyed parent. “No.”

Rotmyre tried to come up with anything else he could think of from saying it was Randall’s birthday and he wanted to make sure he was there for the celebration to Randall having extreme allergies and Rotmyre knows the medicine he needs to a ridiculous plot to end the world. Nothing seemed to sway Grout. He needed to come up with something. He could already tell the old captain was getting tired of this charade and was going to leave without him. He then remembered something that could work. Something that nobody else, but Grout would know. He didn’t want to say the two words, but he knew it was the only way. He took a deep breath, spoke calmly and clearly, his smooth, persuasive voice returning to full form. “Tangleroot and the Tinkerer.”

Grout’s head perked up. He finally had the old man’s attention. Grout precariously looked at his men in formation who had started to break off and converse among each other. He was on edge and Rotmyre noticed a quivering in his gray eyes. “What?” His voice cut through the air.

Rotmyre wanted to press forward now that he seemed to break through Grout’s tough visage. “The Tangleroot and the Tinkerer.”

Grout broke through the space between them until his snout was within an inch of Rotmyre’s neck. “How did you hear about those?”

“We have a mutual acquaintance.”

Grout snarled at Rotmyre and if he wasn’t surrounded by other officers probably would have pushed the real estate agent up against the wall of the cottage and threatened him with a pistol pressed up to his gut. Instead, he just stayed silent and stared at Rotmyre, an extra amount of drool dripping from his lip.

Rotmyre can feel the tension pulling at the old officer. It started to eat away at his stomach as well. He knew of the two words but didn’t know what implications they would have on the old captain. Tangleroot and the Tinkerer, certainly meant something, but what did they mean to Grout? What has gotten him all nervous?

Grout snarled and grabbed Rotmyre by the arm, pulling him aside by the front of the cottage. Once they were out of earshot, Grout returned to his old, intimidating stare, now assisted by a handgun pointed straight at Rotymyre’s chest. “So now you are going to tell me how you heard about those words?”

Rotmyre didn’t want to give Grout the satisfaction, but the long thin barrel of the gun looked like the end of a lonely, sad existence. What would the headlines be this time? He raised his hands in surrender acting the part of war prisoner. “Listen, I was just told the two words and to say them to you if I needed anything from you.” He didn’t know what the officer would do. There was a wildness to his eyes that sent goosebumps up and down the scales on his back.

“What did the person look like?”

“Umm.”
Grout’s handle on the gun loosened as he motioned it toward Rotmyre’s chest. “What did the person look like?”

“I – I – I don’t know. He was heavily cloaked. I swear that’s all I know.”

The old captain looked down at his weapon and over at Rotmyre and slowly holstered his handgun, realizing the decision was a bit impulsive.

Rotmyre sighed. “Thank you.”

“Where did you meet this person?”

“A – a - at my house.”

Grout looked around him, contemplating his decision. Rotmyre was quiet as he realized he could have been killed by a cop.

Grout was quiet at first and begrudgingly nodded. “Don’t think that this allows you to roam freely amongst the group. You are to stay within my sight the entire time and you are to never speak of the Tangleroot and the Tinkerer to anyone.” He took a deep breath, wiped some excess saliva out of his droopy lip, and headed back to his crew.

Rotmyre watched him as a smile crept on his face.

Next Chapter: 4 - Blood and Water