Chapter 17 - Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

“So I totally lost the bet, didn’t I? Really had my money on Taia being the one to take out our visitor.” Ariadne clicked her tongue in annoyance.

“Can’t win them all. She’ll be a lot easier to handle than Taia too. As for my bet, I always thought Euryale was going to be the one. Course, I had a sense of what she could do.”

She turned to her father. “How did you know what power she had anyway?”

“Like I said, never underestimate the benefits of a classical education! I remembered a myth that featured Euryale…the gorgon. Well, I remembered the story about her more famous sister. The even more famous gorgon.”

“Sister?”

“Yup…Medusa. I’m sure you know that name. The third sister was…crap what was it? Ste…Stheno! Or however you pronounce it.”

He walked over to the broken remains of the dwarf.

“What I didn’t expect was that her scream would do this.” He poked at the chunks. “I vaguely recall a story where Euryale was so full of grief her scream was like a blast, but seeing it in person was unreal.”

“So the petrification was the surprise I gather you wanted to save for me?”

“Indeed. But also why I wanted you to stay hidden. She can’t turn to stone what she can’t see directly. Or at least that’s how the old stories went.”

Ariadne looked around at the scene. She picked up a piece of the demon woman’s broken arm and pocketed it, then grabbed another and stared at it for a moment. “Well, since we’re talking about the benefits of a good education, I think the shattering of these statues has a bit of a bonus.”

His eyebrows perked up. “Oh? Do tell! Impress your guild master with your knowledge.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t make it weird dad.” He rolled his eyes in turn when she again referred to him as her father but didn’t make an issue of it this time.

“Remember that summer course I took before we came here?”

He thought a moment. “The one you wanted to take because of that video game?”

“Ugh…no dad, I did not take that class because I wanted to raid any tombs!”

“Why not? Sounds cool to me.”

“I took it because I thought archaeology might be something to interest me at university. Anyway, you’re missing the point.”

She showed him another broken statue piece in her hand. “That course was mostly about rocks. Geology and stuff.” She turned away and muttered her next words. “And yeah, it wasn’t as cool as I hoped.”

“But!” She continued, “I remember that this is called limestone. And if we use these,” she pulled out a clay pot from her backpack, “kafsi bombs, we’ll get a cool reaction that should help take care of the mess.” She gestured with her free hand to the rubble around them.

“Interesting! And here I was worried you thought that class was a mistake.”

“Didn’t you teach me that trying something and not liking it isn’t a waste because at least you’re closer to finding what you do like?”

“That I did. I’m just so proud you listened!” He puffed up proudly.

“Anyway, these won’t melt the rock exactly, but the reaction should make the pieces crumble enough to be a paste that will mix into the dirt after it cools off and dries. Plus it will leave a surprise for the group that comes to investigate if they get here too soon. At least, if my high school chemistry class wasn’t lying.”

“Ooo, and now you’re the one leaving me with a surprise to look forward to. Cheeky revenge.”

Orpheus as Witt thought more seriously for a moment. “That should work nicely. And saves digging. Great job!” He looked around at the carriage. “Actually, I think I have the perfect idea for when Warlock’s crew shows up soon. How many of those did you bring?”

She looked in her pack. “Enough. I think.” She showed him inside her bag.

“Good. Help me toss them around.”

They each took two pots and threw them. Witt’s covered the remains of the dwarf and demon. Ariadne’s pots coated the horse and the carriage.

Witt fished into his own bag and pulled out a striker, the same small implement with a piece of flint and steel he used to light the fires in his tavern’s kitchen.

“You should take off before I light this. I need you to tail Euryale. Shouldn’t be hard to catch up to her.”

Ariadne had a quizzical look on her face. “What do you want me to do?”

“Rustle.”

“Rustle?”

“Yeah. Make some noises. Little ones. Make her feel like she’s being followed. Like someone is watching her. Like someone saw what she did. We need to keep her afraid.”

She grimaced. “You can be a sick bastard sometimes dad.”

“Maybe, but this sick bastard promised to get you home. And please call me Witt at times like this.”

“But Witt’s all selfish and smarmy. It’s my least favourite cover of yours.”

“Maybe so, but he’s the longest cover I’ve had. He’s too useful. And I don’t want that cover blown. So…Witt, if you please.”

“Fine…Witt. I’ll go terrify the scared demon some more.” Her tone sounded every bit the exasperated teen one would have expected at her age, but Witt knew she would do the job well.

“Much obliged. I’ll take care of being a firebug then move on to the next phase. We’ll rendezvous as planned tonight.”

“Sounds good. Stay safe…Witt.” She winked.

“You too.” He waved as she vanished into thin air, moving to follow the demon’s foot trail into the forest under the cloak of her invisibility.

Witt turned back to the crime scene. Using a few twigs and leaves he made a makeshift fuse along the ground for each of the areas coated in the sticky residue from the pots they spread around.

Starting with the dwarf he clicked the striker in his hand and made a spark which caught the nearby dry leaves on fire. He stepped back as the flames ran along the small path he had made for it. As it approached the remains he wondered how the fire might react differently to the stone pieces as compared to the dwarf’s clothing, or his leather boots, neither of which had been petrified.

He didn’t have to wait long. As soon as the fire touched the sticky residue flames erupted over the entire area where the dwarf lay.

He was surprised by the wall of heat that immediately radiated from the area. Strong enough to almost push him back from the intensity. Cracks, pops and others sounds started almost immediately as well, like an odd symphony of stony popcorn blasts.

And then the smell struck. It was an odd mix of chemical odour from the kafsi bomb mixed with something like a charcoal barbecue fire. Flames danced along the stony pieces as they cracked and bubbled under the intense heat.

He was next assaulted by the smell of burnt leather which he could only assume came from the boots. It combined with the stench of burning stone into an altogether unique smell Witt thought he would never forget. If nothing else, it probably smelled better than burning an actual corpse, so he figured he should focus on the upside.

He turned and lit the fires for the demon and the horse remains, more careful to stay further back this time. The flames roared just as fiercely, and smelt just as bad, if not more so.

Last was the carriage. Maybe because he had already experienced the flames three times he assumed it would be the same.

It was something else entirely.

The wood of the carriage immediately caught fire and fuelled the flames from the kafsi bomb even more than the previous stony fires. The fires reached high into the sky. It wasn’t long before he noticed the gold leaf that gilded the edges of the carriage began to melt, gold running down in rivulets in a fascinating spectacle. The smell of burnt wood mixed with the acrid smell of the bombs filled the air.

Before long, the paint completely bubbled off and the charred wood beneath began to crumble. Eventually only a blackened frame remained along with some still burning sections of the vehicle.

He turned to check on the burning remains of the petrified bodies. Those fires had almost exhausted themselves by this point. Other than a few metal buttons or clasps all that remained was an oddly white paste where the statue pieces had been before. He wasn’t sure what surprise Ariadne had meant would be left for the investigators. But he knew enough of her sense of humour, had largely shared his own with her in fact, that he should leave well enough alone.

He stepped back and surveyed the scene. There would be no denying that something terrible happened. But it was at least no longer obvious that the occupants had been petrified, and that was good enough for now.

“Time for the next step, I suppose.”

Witt blew forcefully out of his nostrils to try and push out the remaining scent that was still stuck in his sinuses. It didn’t really help. But he brushed himself off and turned to leave the scene and head into the woods.