Lori shivered as the wind howled like a specter outside, its wails echoing through the cracks between the planks of their home. Shadows flickered ominously around her in the dim light of the barn, where cobwebs trembled in the corners and the scent of dust permeated the air. The relentless gusts battered the walls, making them groan as if the very structure was alive and suffering.

  Her father, with an unsettling calm, scrutinized the notes she had taken from the telegraph office. The wind howled outside, dirt and sand pelted the walls. The lamps overhead swayed gently, the flames within flickering and casting dancing shadows that seemed to come alive. The dogs gathered nervously nearby, anxious and jittery at the storm outside. The rustling of the barn’s roof echoed like distant footsteps, and Lori couldn’t help but feel as though something sinister was drawing closer with each passing moment.

  “And you are certain the other telegraph wasn’t connected to anything?”

  “Absolutely. That’s what made it so eerie.”

  Ebeneezer fidgeted, twisting his hat anxiously between his fingers. "What does it mean, Ford?" he asked.

  The Colonel, Ebeneezer, and Lori stood in a close circle in the center of the barn. Jangles craned his long neck to read over Ford’s shoulder, his eyes gleaming with keen interest.

  “It means we’re dealing with something older than the Wayahee.” He handed the note to Ebeneezer and strode toward the bookshelves. “Lori, bring a bag.”

  “Older than the Wayahee? Good Lord, Ford, but that would be prehistoric! The Wayahee people vanished so long ago the Hakitaw know precious little about them!” He shook Lori’s note. “How are we to learn anything concerning this menace? Let alone how to fight it?”

  Ford reached for a book on the shelf, but recoiled just as quickly. Lori, clutching a relatively clean burlap sack, sprinted up to her father’s side. As he turned to face her, his eyes held a question. “What’s our next move, Lori?”

  Lori froze with the bag open. "Sir?"

  “What do we do now?”

  She bit her lower lip and glanced at Ebeneezer and Jangles, both of whom looked to her expectantly. A trickle of sweat formed on her forehead as nerves took hold under her father's piercing gaze.

  “I don’t really know, sir.”

  Her father's expression clouded with disappointment. “Lori, when I’m around, you tend to let me take the lead. I’m going to be around less and less. You’re in charge. What do we do.” His words were more command than inquiry.

  Lori cleared her throat and glanced up at the bookshelves. Her eyes darted feverishly from one spine to another. The intensity of her father's stare, combined with the mournful wail of the wind outside, heightened her anxiety.

  Ford rested a hand on her shoulder. “You always get so jittery. This is not a test. This is trust. You always have the answers, even if sometimes you don’t know it. Take a breath. Think a moment.”

  “Garmac!” Lori exclaimed, her eyes widening. “Garmac is the key! I’ve seen that name before somewhere!” Spurred by sudden recognition, she stepped back from the shelves, her gaze sweeping over the rows of books. “There!” She climbed nimbly to the top shelf and retrieved a dusty, ancient tome with wooden covers. Carefully, she brought it down and hurried to a table, setting it down with reverent care. “'Ebonhart's Exhaustive Concordance on the Lost Sorceries of the Ancient East and Near East,' by Seraphinus Ebonhart,” she read aloud. The book creaked open, revealing pages of aged, handwritten text. She turned each brittle page with painstaking delicacy, fearing the fragile paper might tear at the slightest touch.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Ebeneezer hoisted himself onto a stool, leaning in close to examine the book with her. Jangles, curious as ever, peeked over her shoulder for a better view.

  “Here it is: ‘Nekhet-Amun: Philosopher of Upper Aegypt during the Rule of King Noh through King Taten, 1741-1683 B.C.. More commonly known as Garmac. See Alaric the Unseen.’” Lori's finger tapped against the entry with a sense of triumph. “That’s what I couldn’t remember.” She carefully turned the pages, her fingers tracing the history within as she delved deeper into the ancient tome.

  "Who exactly was this Alaric?" Ebeneezer asked with a curious tilt of his head.

  “He was a hero of legend, a warrior figure from that time period. Most don’t believe he existed. More like he was a combination of stories of a lot of other legendary figures rolled into one. But,” Lori said, spotting the entry in the ancient tome, “some of the legend might have been true. See here, there’s a reference to the Cycle of Setekh, which has been lost for ages, but there was a summary of it in Rodek’s Guide…” She trailed off as she went back to the shelves and climbed to the top to retrieve a second dusty volume.

  Ebeneezer twitched his nose and whiskers, casting a glance at Ford, who barely hid a triumphant smile.

  "She's a mirror image of you!" Ebeneezer murmured softly.

  "She's better than that," he whispered. "I barely knew where to start."

  Jangles wheezed a quiet laugh, and both looked up at him, realizing he had heard every word. Ford pointed up at him with an admonishing finger.

  “Not a word.”

  “Nope.” Jangles agreed, grinning.

  Lori brought a large book bound in old, cracked leather, set it down on the table and turned the thin pages, scouring entries and muttering to herself. “Okay, Dad, look here.” She pointed to the passage. “This talks about a great battle between Nekhet and the demonic being known as Ma’at-jer, that could not be defeated, so Nekhet trapped it in some kind of prison. Then he gave the thing to Alaric and told him to take it as far away as possible. So then the story follows Alaric, and he has a bunch of adventures and eventually he finds a place where he can get rid of it; a great salt lake.”

  Ford and Ebeneezer straightened in surprise and exchanged looks of sudden comprehension. Outside, the wind roared relentlessly, battering the barn with an intensity that mirrored the urgency of their mission.

  “The Hakitaw salt mine?”

  Ford shrugged. “Why not? It was underwater some time ago, according to archeologists. Why couldn’t this Alaric row out to the middle and toss it over the side?”

  Ebeneezer sat down and tilted his green derby hat back. “The lake dries up and becomes a source of salt for three different civilizations.”

  “Then the miners are digging along and find it, crack it open and out he comes.”

  Ebeneezer glanced at Lori with a look of genuine admiration, his eyes gleaming as though he had just discovered something remarkable. “How in the world did you manage to remember any of that?”

  Lori shrugged, avoiding his eyes. “I didn’t. Not really. I just remembered some names and where I’d read them before.” She looked at the shelves of books. “I’ve read all of those at least twice. Something was bound to stick.”

  “Um…” Jangles cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to be a wet blanket, Lori, but none of that tells us how this Neck guy defeated Mott what’s-his-name, or even what he or it is. We don’t know what this vessel or prison looks like, and we don’t know how to put him back in it. If we can find it. And if it isn’t broken.”

  All three looked up at Jangles. He cleared his throat again and looked away.

  “To the quick as usual, Jangles.” Ebeneezer said. “He’s right. As fascinating as all this is, its academic. We still don’t know exactly what we’re dealing with.”

  Ford looked back at the books. “It’s a start.”