Return to White River

     The bell that hung above the door still rang out with a cheerful clang, blissfully unaware of the emptiness of the darkened shop. A skirt swished lightly over the wooden boards, which groaned and creaked as the visitor swiftly moved across them. With a loud thump, a pile of letters dropped on the hard wooden surface of Charrie Riddle's desk. Dust motes flew into the air, causing the pirate-coloured Lenny to cough.

     "Serves me right, delivering your mail for you, you coward. Should have left it at the Post Office, in the faithful care of Nellie. But no, as your friend I had to do my duty for the umpteenth time since you departed." Leanna O'Fallon muttered. She stared at the desk for a moment, glancing over the unfinished letters, bits of ribbon and string lying about, and the many sticky-backed notes that Charrie had left around. Her eyes wandered up to the top of the desk, above the roll-top drawer, where a picture frame stood.

     "You always were a scoundrel. Took me a solid month to figure out that spell on your door." She said with a sigh. The photo looked older, the frame was easily at least ten years old. The picture within contained a younger-looking Charrie, his arms around two smaller Halloween Ixi. Both of whom looked similar in features. All three appeared happy, and Charrie looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh.

     "I know there's no sense talking to open air, but...Did you find what you're looking for, laddie? She hasn't come in the shop since she found your note, you know. She keeps busying herself with affairs of the town trying to forget you. But...I daresay it hasn't really worked."

     She took one last sombre look around, sighing to herself as she did so. With a regretful glance at her pocket watch, she quickly hurried out of the shop.

     ----

      Portia Provoskia shivered slightly. It was late fall now, and the leaves were blowing about on the wind. Soon winter would arrive, her first as the mayor of White River, Meridell. She had come to White River at the start of the season, hailing from Ursus. Her rodina was a strange one, isolated from the rest of Neopia. She remembered many winters curled up by the fire, wondering about who was doing battle with the fierce taiga outside.

     Although leery at first, the residents of the small Meridellian village had come to accept her as one of their own. The icy stares and whispers from when she first arrived had long since vanished, replaced by friendly waves, and greetings of "Morning Mayor! Nice day, aye?" She still struggled to understand the thick and lilting south Meridell accent that many of the residents spoke with.

     She fumbled for a minute outside the Mayor's office, grabbing the slightly rusted set of keys that Charrie had given her...before he had left. She shook her head, clearing the thought away. Her long red tendrils fell into her face slightly, and she grimaced in irritation. "By the Tsar's beard..." she muttered. Finally, with a creak, the door opened. She whisked off her coat with a flourish, placing it and one of Enid Allaway's latest creations in headgear on the coat rack. She then turned towards the office in the back of the building, humming as she went.

     Her humming quieted the further in she travelled. The air was...different. Something felt wrong. The back of her neck tingled, and for a moment she wished she had brought her old *sablya* The old steel friend that had served her well as an Ursian army general would help now. She shifted her weight carefully, fists prepared for any necessary attack.

     She paused outside the door to the Mayor's office, listening. No sound came from behind the wooden door. She waited for a minute, heart pounding, blood rushing in her ears. She turned the knob carefully, springing back as the door opened wide.

     The office had been sacked. Papers littered the floor, and every single picture frame was knocked askew. Nothing appeared badly damaged except...her eyes travelled to the desk with alarm. A long dagger stood, hilt pointed towards the sky. It looked like it had been rammed into the desk with a large amount of force. She eyed the piece of paper that was attached to the dagger. Dare she read it? Perhaps it was a message from the intruders.

     Dear Madam Mayor,

     We regret to inform you that your township is intruding upon the territory of the Eclipse Thieves Guild. With the situation such as it is, we have decided to leave you a small reminder. If you would like to keep your township safe from a large uptick in crime, we suggest that you leave one million Neopoints at the location marked on the map. If you fail to pay, we can't promise any citizen's safety.

     -The Eclipse Thieves Guild

     Hands trembling, Portia looked at the second page of the map that had been included. It appeared they wanted the Neopoints left close to the Meridell Woods, which flanked the western borders of the town. She sighed, looking around the trashed office. The question left to her now was...what to do about the problem the note presented?

     ------

     “Tea with honey?"

     “Charrie how you spoil me so."

     "Nothing but the best for you, little sister."

     The saucer clinked and clattered as unsteady hands lifted it to pale white lips. With a sense of slight despair, Charrie Riddle gazed at the frail form that had once been filled with life. At one time, Helene Riddle had stood proudly, just a few inches below Charrie's own height. Her fur had been a shade darker than his, although she and their other sister Phoebe shared the same Halloween colour. Now her fur was almost gone, replaced by light grey flesh that appeared to barely be hanging on her frame.

     Her hair had lost its dark brown colour long ago and was now white and brittle. Helene seldom brushed it anymore, for fear that chunks of hair would become tangled in her hairbrush. Her eyes had dulled into pools of light violet-grey, like the fog that settled over the White River docks early in the morning.

     “Brother. Are you going to have your tea?”

     "Yes. Thank you Helene." Charrie took a sip from the fine porcelain cup, being careful not to sip too loudly. The sunroom they sat in was the brightest part of Helene's rather large estate. Not that much sunlight came through the windows. It was the Haunted Woods after all.

     “Charrie. You have not visited me more than twice since my accident occurred. And you rarely answer my letters. Why did you come to visit me?”

     Charrie stirred his tea thoughtfully for a second, ignoring his sister's observant gaze.

     “Can't a brother visit his sister without being cross-examined?" He teased.

     “I have written to you every week without fail for the past four years, Charrie Riddle. And not once have you visited me because of them. And then you show up on my doorstep one fine morning, claiming that you got my letter and you were worried about me? Suddenly? I am still invalid.”

     Charrie sighed and stared down at his own cup of tea. It wasn't the same as the daily cups he brewed in his cosy shop. He bought the blends from Madam Lao, a Shenkuuvian immigrant who had moved to White River a couple of months prior to his departure. He was quite attached to the blends of tea leaves she offered. Helene's tasted akin to bathwater, with a slight hint of lavender. He had never liked lavender.

     They sat in silence for a few minutes. Helene's cloudy eyes stared blankly between them. With a harrumph, she finally grabbed the cane beside her chair and stiffly stood. Charrie could almost hear her bones creaking with lack of use. "When you decide you want to stop running from whatever is bothering you, I'll be just down the hall in my quarters. Otherwise, you're free to stay as long as you'd like." With an airy sniff, she hobbled out of the room.

      ---

     A pesky Moquot buzzed close to her ear, and with a quick flick of her wrist, Nellie McMaster took aim. The two-day-old edition of the Neopian Times sliced through the air like a knife through butter...and missed.

     “Jumpin' Jetsams!" The Pastel Xweetok exclaimed, pouting for a moment. She heard the bell over the post office door ring, and with a start, began to run towards the front counter. She managed to get there in just enough time, chest heaving and heart pounding. "How may I hel-" Her voice fell flat when she saw the Mayor's face.

     “Has there been any l-letters or news f-from-?" Nellie had never heard Portia stutter.

     No Mayor. I'm afraid not.

     “I’I need to s-send another letter or two. U-urgent.”

     “Yes Mayor, but...are you sure you don't need to sit down first?”

     “N-no. I will be fine. Please make sure these go out today.”

     Portia reached into her coat pocket and pulled out two letters. On one Nellie recognized the scrawled address, but the other was addressed strangely. The Pastel Xweetok sighed. Portia's eyes flickered up to hers. In them Nellie saw concern, fear, and something else that she couldn't name.

     Portia turned towards the door swiftly, her skirts billowing behind her.

To be continued…