Also on ff.net and AO3

Siegfried’s smile widened. “That’s a good boy. I knew you were a lad with some smarts. Which you can now put to good use.” He neared again, his hand reaching inside his pocket, and Orrie tensed in reflex. But the man only pulled out a scroll and handed it to Orrie. Despite himself, curiosity flickered through the whirlwind of distrust and rage, and he grabbed the paper and unfurled it to read:

“Nod’s old shoe can’t travel far.”

Orrie read the hint over and over, burning it into his memory before handing it back to Siegfried. “I don’t know all the words to the rhyme, but I think I know the gist of it. It’s the one with the three fishermen who fished for the star herrings?”

“That is correct,” replied Siegfried, taking the scroll. Orrie pondered hard. His first guess would have been to search the beds too, the closest to the ‘wooden shoe’ in the rhyme. But Siegfried confirmed none of them was hiding the clue. Maybe there was another bed somewhere? There was the cot in the infirmary, but Orrie had a strong suspicion a room wouldn’t be hiding two clues at once. Furthermore, he, Belle, and Dipper did a fairly thorough job of scouring the manor; they hadn’t seen any other beds that he could recall. “Perhaps what we are searching for isn’t a normal sort of ‘bed’.”

“What do you mean?”

“The rhyme makes direct reference to a trundle bed. What we need to find, therefore, might be a bed that has a hidden compartment.”

“That’s…probably it,” Orrie mumbled. But something didn’t feel right. None of the hints they’d found so far had clear-cut and obvious answers, and if a bed was specifically mentioned in the rhyme, then a bed with a secret compartment was too simple a solution. Inside a shoe, for that matter then, was also not likely to be it.

Siegfried frowned. “You don’t sound convinced.” Orrie hesitated, not sure what response might set Siegfried off. He fumbled for the words.

“It’s n-not a—you’re not wro—the answer can’t—there has to be more to it,” he finally managed to get out. “I just can’t think of what.” The man nodded thoughtfully.

“Yes, you’re right. None of the solutions has been that easy to solve. You wouldn’t have known to go to the kitchen if you didn’t have some basic understanding of demonology.”

“Yeah,” nodded Orrie absentmindedly before freezing when he realized what he’d just done. Siegfried folded his arms, glaring at Orrie with further accusation and a bit of self-satisfaction.

“Like I said, I knew you were looking for clues. But thanks for the confirmation.” He gestured toward one of the halls with a jerk of his head. “Perhaps we’ll be sparked with inspiration if we look around.” Orrie took that as his cue to take the lead. A grim voice reasoned he was probably to serve as a shield in case there were more traps set by the murderer. As they walked down a hall full of armored suits, both of them on alert for any suspicious noises or movement, Orrie couldn’t stop from pondering something.

“Why did you scare Zahia out of her room? Couldn’t you have just told her to step out while you checked something? You could have lied.”

“You know as well as I do, boy, that she won’t listen to anything we tell her. Scaring her was the fastest way of removing her.”

Or causing a commotion, the boy thought darkly. A commotion to lead others into a deadly trap.

“You̶ ̕t̕h͞ink I͞ d̢idn͏’t́ h̢av͏e inside͏ hel͏p ͞ pulli̢ng of͞f̕ t͞he̕se mur̢de̶rs?”

Orrie thickly swallowed the tight lump in his throat at the sudden realization. It made perfect sense now. His beforehand knowledge of the manor, his absences, his indifference to the deaths. Siegfried was—

No, couldn’t start freaking out now. What would Siegfried do if he did not solve this hint in time? Think, think! What sort of bed wouldn’t travel far? Logically speaking, all of them since beds couldn’t move. But they could be moved, so it had to be a bed that could not be moved. So one bolted to the ground? No, no, that couldn’t be it…could it? No, that’d be ridiculous. Orrie was starting to panic, fearing his thoughts were leading to dead ends. His eyes darted around for some sort of sign. But the only things in this hall were a vase, a painting of a shepherd with his flock, and a window peering out into a garden. Even from here he could tell how immaculately the flowers were arranged in such a stunning display, like a rainbow had fallen to earth and laid delicately on that patch of land.                                   

Wait…the flowers…that were in a flower bed…

Orrie’s eyes widened as his brain reeled to snap together  new possibilities. Siegfried was right; they weren’t looking for a normal bed. It was something else entirely. The nursery rhyme was constantly making references to fishing, so something to do with the sea. Sea…water…a seabed!

“You found the answer?” Orrie looked up, not realizing he’d stopped in his tracks.

“Maybe,” he tried to mask the excitement of solving yet another hint, “But there isn’t a lake or river anywhere on the property, is there?”

“What? What on– of course! Why didn’t I think of that!” Even he looked a tad impressed by how quickly Orrie solved the hint. “But there isn’t any body of water near here. And as far as I remember, I haven’t seen any paintings with rivers or lakes.”

Then where else could the clue be? Orrie just knew they were on the right track somehow. He stared out the window again. “This may be a stretch, but do you think the clue might be in the pool?” With how it was constructed it vaguely resembled the shallow reaches of a lagoon. He watched as Siegfried drummed his fingers against his side.

“It’s as reasonable a guess as any. Well, then, hurry on.” Orrie held back his glare as he directed them through the kitchen and outside to where the manor’s pool was located. The morning sky was  more comforting grey than blue, but it still seemed wholly oblivious to the dark intents lurking inside the luxurious mansion.

The crystal-clear water rippled almost excitedly as they approached, a soft gale disturbing the surface and causing all the white lotuses to bob gently. Orrie peered over the side. If he squinted just right, he could almost imagine the bottom of the pool as a rocky river bed or something of the sort. “It seems they were expecting us,” Siegfried uttered, his attention to the side. Orrie turned to see what he was looking at. A large towel, folded, with a pair of goggles rested in one of the pool chairs.

After a wordless gesture from Siegfried, Orrie grabbed the goggles. Rolling up his pant legs and removing his shirt, bag, and glasses before putting on the goggles, he took a deep breath and jumped in. Around him were large stones lining the pool walls. He swam around trying to find something out of the ordinary, but in all honesty he had no idea what he was looking for. Nothing seemed out of place. After a few more seconds, he had to resurface.

“Did you find anything resembling a head?”

Orrie shook the droplets from his hair. “Huh?”

“From the rhyme.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nod represents a child’s head as they sleep. Did you find anything resembling that?”

“I can check again.” The boy didn’t wait for a reply. He dove again, now with an inkling of what they needed. And sure enough, nestled near the bottom of the pool, was a stone that had the faint image of a sleeping face. Orrie grabbed it, wriggling it loose and pulling it out with little trouble. On the stone’s backside were an embedded key and etched words, but Orrie couldn’t quite read them. He swam back. Siegfried helped him out once he saw the stone in the boy’s grasp. But when he realized he wasn’t going to be receiving any more assistance, Orrie let the man take the rock as he stomped his soppy self to the chair to grab the towel and dry himself off. He quickly put his shirt back on and stepped as quietly as he could back toward the manor, backpack in hand.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

Dang it– busted. Orrie turned back around. “I helped you find the hint; now I’m going back to help my friends.”

“We’re not finished yet. We still need to find the clue to this key.”

“But—!”

“You wouldn’t want something to happen to them, hm? We better hurry and find that clue then.” Orrie cast Siegfried the darkest glower he could muster, though the man clearly wasn’t bothered. He was in control, and Orrie knew he was helpless but to go along. Even from this distance and with the stone in Siegfried’s hand turned slightly away, Orrie could just make out the words engraved on its backside:

“In the four kingdoms, who is stacked on top?”

Orrie racked his brain. There were no nursery rhymes in his memory that involved four kingdoms. Though it nonetheless rang a bell. “Four kingdoms. What rhyme has four kingdoms?”

Siegfried smirked. “Think a bit more broadly, boy. There is something else you know of that has four kingdoms. Come.” And for once he took the lead, directing Orrie back inside while still keeping a watchful eye over him. Orrie didn’t mind too much; he was still trying to understand what Siegfried meant. He only grew more and more confused when the man led them to a place they’d passed before– a room akin to a family game room. There was a small square poker table dead center in the room with numerous waist-high shelves stacked with board games lining the walls. A monitor hung in a ceiling corner, and for the first time since arriving to the manor Orrie spotted what was undoubtedly a security camera—its circular case and lens almost blending in with the row of billiard balls mounted on the wall. He averted his eyes hastily, though if someone were really watching them they’d have already seen him staring.

Siegfried approached the table. “Figure it out yet?” Orrie neared him, blinking at what he saw. A stack of playing cards sat in the middle with four sets of three cards positioned around the table where players would have sat. The sets—each with a king, a queen, and a jack—were of a particular suit. Orrie gasped, finally understanding. The four kingdoms were referring to the four suits in a deck of playing cards. Then there was only one rhyme he could barely remember that corresponded.

“The Queen of Hearts,” he said. He frowned. Title aside, he knew almost nothing about that rhyme, just remembered hearing it from somewhere as a child, most of the words now lost to him. He hoped the markings on the table would spark more of his memory, but they only confused him further to what they needed to do. Above each set of cards were three boxes arranged into shapes: the sets with the Hearts and Spades had vertical columns while the Clubs and Diamonds had pyramids, with the pyramid over the Diamonds being upside-down.

“I’m pretty sure I understand now,” Siegfried said. A greedy smile was forming. “Yes, yes– I’ve got it! We must arrange the cards in such a way that the one who comes out on top is on top.”

“What does that mean? And how do we figure that out for the other three suits? I thought the rhyme was only about the Hearts.”

“Hmph, figures,” Siegfried scoffed. “You only learned the first stanza. That’s to be expected since there’s still much contention as to whether the other three were ever part of the original rhyme. But to summarize them all…” He picked up the nearest card, the Queen of Hearts. “The Queen of Hearts makes some tarts, ‘til the Knave comes along and steals them.” He placed the card in the middle box in the column, and there came a distinct sound of something clicking open inside the table. “The King, of course, demands them back, makes the Knave come home and return some.”

He placed the King of Hearts in the box above the Queen and the Jack in the one below it. Two more clicks resounded. Siegfried moved to the next side of the table. “The King of Spades kisses the maids, but to the Queen this won’t at all sit. So the Knave begs them free, but the Queen, you do see, lets neither of them forget.” This time he placed the Jack above the Queen and the King below. Three more clicks. Orrie, now more intrigued than before, watched intently as Siegfried continued.

“The Queen of Clubs so often snubs the King to his face in spite. The King retorts, but the Knave stays mute, his response the only one that’s right.” Siegfried placed the Jack at the top of the pyramid and the Queen and King in the boxes below. The clicks this time were much louder, and Orrie suspected the mechanism was near fully unlocked.

“The Diamond King, when he sings, spouts naught but praise to his wife. The Knave makes jests when she woos back, so from him the King takes his life.” The Jack was placed below the King and Queen, and the final latches clicked, allowing a small drawer to roll out. Inside it was the fifth clue.

Before Orrie had the chance to even consider reaching for the small booklet, Siegfried’s hand swooped down and snatched it. He opened it with the key and held the clue up to read, high enough that Orrie could not see its contents. “At last! That reward is mine!” And he ran out of the room without a glance back, the booklet still in hand. If Orrie didn’t have more pressing matters he would’ve felt anger for being cheated out of the clue. Instead he was nothing more than relieved and anxious to find his friends. He too raced out of the room, trying his best to remember the way back to the room with the trapdoor. He eventually found it and cautiously stepped inside. Dipper and Belle were, unsurprisingly, not there, meaning Orrie had to go down and find them. Bracing himself, Orrie jumped through the hole.

It wasn’t that far down, just like Dipper had said. But the utter darkness greatly disoriented Orrie, and he blindly but hurriedly pulled out his phone from his backpack. Using it as a flashlight wasn’t quite as usefully as he would’ve hoped, but it was better than nothing. He walked slowly down the long corridor, the stone floor and walls so slick to the touch. He froze when he thought he heard footsteps rushing behind him, but when he turned around he saw nothing but darkness. The light from his phone just couldn’t travel that far.

He walked with deliberate steps, his ears keenly attuned to every sound heard. The path seemed to forever bend slightly, though every once in a while there would be a door or narrow hall branching off, but Orrie didn’t dare explore them. Dozens of eyes seemed to be watching his every move, and he was honestly more confused why nobody tried to attack him. It was when he was beginning to believe he was starting to walk in a circle he heard a grunt that came from a side hallway.

“Dipper? Belle?” No answer. Cautiously he walked down it. It led to a metallic door. Pushing that open he found himself in yet another stony, circular hall, but this one was lit entirely by lights hanging overhead. There were also more doors in this hall. And, even more curiously, a trail of water splotches leading away.

There was another groan. Orrie followed it and the trail, being guided into yet another small hallway. The groan sounded exactly like—

“Dipper!” The teen was supporting himself against the wall, one arm cradling the other. Wisps of smoke floated off of him as he struggled to keep his human visage intact; Orrie caught glimpses of skin melting away only to be regenerated soon after. “You’re hurt!”

“It’s nothing,” he grunted, pushing himself off the wall. “It looks worse than it actually is.” Orrie still hurried over to him to provide him support. Dipper tried not to be too much of a burden as they continued down the hall. “It’s the staff. They’re able to spy on us from behind these walls, and they practically hosed me down with holy water the second I came in here. Those cultists must have run out because I haven’t seen any of them in a while. And, oh yeah– they’re definitely cultists, by the way.” He suddenly went quiet. “Um…why do you smell herbal?”

“Herbal?”

“Well, more flowery than herbal.”

Flowery? Orrie remembered the lotuses that were in the swimming pool. “Blame Siegfried,” he grumbled. He himself didn’t think he smelled at all. “Is it bothering you?”

“I think?” Why was that a question? Orrie didn’t say anything, but he started to grow a bit worried by the troubled look Dipper had. The teen abruptly stood up straighter. “This way!” Grabbing Orrie’s wrist, he practically dragged him down two side corridors. But Orrie was starting to hear it too: the sound of gushing water. Orrie used his own feet to follow after, and they soon reached what appeared to be a storage room. Not even checking for traps, Orrie pushed it open.

Inside was Belle, tied up and bound to a chair. She was trapped inside a giant glass box, the kind that reminded Orrie of a magician’s box, filled to the brink with water. Perched on top of it—just outside the box and thus pouring through a hole on top—was a hose. Though it didn’t look special, Orrie would bet that was holy water flowing into the box. Despite the room being some sort of closet there was nothing Orrie could see that they could use to break the box.

Except…

Orrie snatched Belle’s grappling hook from his bag. He took aim at the base of the box and fired, cracking its corner. A small fireball from Dipper made it shatter , and the water rushed out like a rapid. They both heard the deep inhale for oxygen once the water was low enough. This was followed by coughing, and Dipper spread his wings, hovering over the water to untie his twin.

“Nearly…broke the world record…for longest without air,” Belle tried to chuckle; it came out way too forced. Dipper hissed as he tore the cable ties around her wrists. “Ouch!”

“Sorry!” he apologized, gentler with the ones on her ankles. He helped her to stand.

“Whoa…” Belle was a bit wobbly on her legs. “Ooh, my head is pounding. Hey, Dipper, think I could trade you a week’s worth of desserts to get rid of this headache?” As the two of them prepared for the deal, Orrie nearly jumped a foot when something cool and airy fluttered through his hair. He stared up, feeling like a complete fool when he realized it was just the vent having kicked on. Hiding his embarrassment he turned for the exit…and spotted just in time a shadow disappearing around the corner. And on the door was a note.

Silently, Orrie stepped over and took it. He read it quietly to himself. An iciness flowed through him when he turned the paper over. As discreetly as he could, he hid the note in his pocket.

“Did you see something?” This time Orrie did jump.

“Yeah,” he answered Dipper, “I think one of those cultists was spying on us.”

The older boy’s expression darkened. “Great. Perfect. They could be gathering as we speak.”

“And we don’t even know the way out. Think you can blip us upstairs?” asked Belle. He bit his lower lip, hesitant.

“It’s possible. But it’ll be a very rough ride.”

“Better than nothing.” She linked hands with her brother. Dipper held out his other for Orrie, and the boy tentatively grabbed it. He—

—instantly wanted to puke. One moment he was standing in the dungeon basement, the next he was sitting at the top of the foyer stairs in the manor, the part of his brain in charge of rationale on the fritz. It felt as if someone shoved him onto a rollercoaster—backwards—and had it go straight down at terminal velocity. Even Belle didn’t look like she trusted herself to stand.

Groaning, Orrie asked, “Is ‘blipping’ always this…” He couldn’t find the right word.

“Nauseating?” Dipper supplied. Heck, even he was woozy. “No. But don’t forget that this place is meant to keep me trapped inside. Wouldn’t be much of a prison if I could tesser freely.”

“We didn’t even have breakfast and I feel like hurling it all up,” moaned Belle. She finally stood and helped her brother up.

Orrie also got to his feet. “I think we should take a break.”

“Huh?” Both twins replied as one. Orrie grimaced.

“I’ve been running around with Siegfried the past hour, Belle nearly drowned, and Dipper, you’re weak from all that holy water plus the blipping plus that fireball used to free Belle, I’m betting. It doesn’t have to be long, just a quick break to catch our breaths.” Neither said anything, clearly debating and weighing the options.

“Alright. Ten minutes.” Orrie and Belle agreed to that. The twins made for their room, but Dipper stopped when he noticed Orrie not following. “What’s wrong?”

“Noth—well…okay, I want to check something out first.” He tried to sound reassuring. “It’s downstairs. I think I saw something while I was with Siegfried that could help us out, but I want to make sure. It shouldn’t take more than a minute to go there and come back.”

Dipper didn’t look eager to let him go wandering alone, but he nodded nonetheless. “Just be careful.”

“Promise,” Orrie grinned as Dipper stepped inside his room. The smile slid once the door closed.

With the paper in his pocket the boy treaded carefully down the stairs, fears aflame, the destination hinted by the note vibrantly clear in his mind as he went.

Also on ff.net and now AO3

They hurried to the source of the sounds, knowing with little doubt where they came from. Orrie trembled slightly at the sick curiosity that lured him through the halls; it wasn’t as if he didn’t know what those noises had been.

What they had indicated.

All three stopped at the entrance way to the foyer just as a shriek resounded through the room, eyes widened in disbelief and horror despite them expecting the worst. Upstairs, Zahia—hands clinging tightly to the banister as the rest of her sagged on her knees—was staring horrified at the two crumpled bodies at the base of the steps. Belle stepped forward, slowly at first, followed by her brother as they examined the corpses.

Orrie went numb when Dipper repositioned them: it was the Tosettis. The old couple had done literally nothing wrong during their whole stay; they weren’t participating in the mystery nor did they have an inkling of the murders taking place. So to see them…dead…despite being unaware and uninvolved…

Belle let out a tiny gasp and pointed to something near Dipper. He spotted the small piece of paper beneath Mr. Tosetti’s hand and, after carefully slipping it out, read it. He seemed to take in the whole message at once, crushing the paper shortly after. Without a word he just shook his head at his sister, his expression somber.

“No one’s safe…” Orrie could just pick up the whimpers from upstairs. He looked fearfully toward Zahia. “No one…why are they doing this…why us…why us…”

“Did you…?” Orrie had to try again after swallowing the lump in his throat. “Did you see who did this?”

The woman looked up, her mouth open to answer before she paused. “Are you still going along with that madman?” she sobbed, slowly rising. Orrie didn’t have a chance to speak when Zahia suddenly started screaming at him. “Do you even care what’s happening to us!? Cliff is dead! Because of you—you and everyone else who keep encouraging that demon! Oh, Alcor would find pleasure in seeing us suffer; what demon wouldn’t!?”

A twinge of anger sparked in him. “That isn’t Alcor!” Orrie shouted back, ignoring the look of contempt from her. “That’s just an actor; you know that! The real Alcor—” He hesitated. ‘The real Alcor wouldn’t do this’ was an easy enough response, but would it be true? Yes, he had the stories from his grandfather and the books and texts about Alcor that he would always cherish, the proof the demon did have a kinder side that shouldn’t be ignored…but that was it. Even his grandpa had warned him once or twice to stay on the Dreambender’s good side. Even the articles made mention of the demon’s sporadic bursts of bloodlust and destruction. Who was he—a preteen boy—to convince this woman who just lost her spouse to ignore the hundreds of firsthand accounts of Alcor slaughtering people who’ve provoked him?

What did it matter?

“That isn’t him,” he muttered.

“No duh that’s not him!” Belle spoke up, earning surprised looks from them both. “My—he would never find enjoyment in this, not to those who don’t deserve it. So don’t you dare believe that fraud’s Alcor because he doesn’t know anything about him.”

“And you do?” retorted Zahia.

“I̢ndee̷d̛,̷ you͡ dơ?̷” Zahia let out a shriek and ran toward her room as the Alcor impersonator materialized in the air between the two floors. Dipper actually snarled at the man while Belle looked just as ready to attack him.

“I know more than you ever will.” Her cold gaze seemed to make ‘Alcor’ smirk wider, and he hovered down closer. Dipper stood instantly, his eyes never straying from the imposter. He mumbled something to his twin, too low for Orrie to catch; but whatever it was sparked a gleam of confidence in Belle’s eyes. She took a daring step forward. “And I know the real Alcor would have the guts to face us in person.” The smirk immediately vanished from the actor’s face. “He wouldn’t hide behind some illusion like you are, you fake. Too scared to come out and—aah!” ‘Alcor’ had snapped his fingers, and Belle had been shot up high into the air, level with the illusion.

“Belle!”  Dipper cried out to his sister before his eyes darted fearfully at ‘Alcor’. No– not quite, Orrie realized, following the boy’s line of sight. Dipper was looking past the illusion, at the panel that had flipped up on the wall behind it, completely blocked from Belle’s point of view. The exposed hole was center with her chest. “BELLE!”

“I’͏m̀ sure͞ the ͝re͠al Al̛cor ̕wo̧ul̶d͠n’t h̶a͡ve aǹy ìs͝sues ̀ge͡tt̶ing̵ rid of ͡uppìty b̷r̀at̢s like̷ y͞o̢ųrs̨e̕lf͡,” the actor snarled. Belle was paralyzed in the air; panic was racing through her as she struggled to get out of the magic holding her. “A̢n͞d I̕ do͡n’̷t̴ need to fac̡è y̡ou̵ in ͝pers̵ǫn ̶to d̢o t͠hat.͝”

It all happened in an instant.

Alcor’ snapped his fingers.

A metallic spike shot forth from the hole in the wall.

Darkness flew.

Belle screamed.

Orrie hadn’t the ability to breathe as he watched the spike pierce into the opposite wall. Then his gaze slowly, ever so slowly drifted to the velvety cocoon of wings that had scooped up Belle and had carried her to safety. They unwrapped to reveal Belle clutching tightly to her twin, eyes still widened by how close she had been to losing her life.

Dipper’s golden irises snapped to the imposter. Even through the illusion the fake showed true terror at the sight of the real Alcor. It was something inhuman to see him hide it shortly after behind a mask of arrogance.

“Illus̶i͞on͏ ̷spe͠ll̶s̡ t̸oo? I h̷ave͠ t͞o a̛dm̷i̷t͏, Dipp͟ȩr Ste͟rl̨ing, be̴t̴ween this͠ a̛nd y̡our̢ sk̷ills in ̕f͞ire̢ co͠n̷juri̷n̵g, your m̢aste͏r̶y of m̸àgic a̧s̶t̶o͡unds eveń me. But̕ ̀no̶ne ͠can͞ bést ̵m̕e in̴ my for̷te͟.” But illusions could not have freed Belle. Orrie took a tentative step back, away from the twins on the ground and the imposter before them. “Nice trỳ to càtch̕ me off̨ gu͝ard̨. B͟u̴t̢ ̧i̕f yóu were th̴ȩ re͠al ͟Alco͞r ͏you ̀w̴o̧uld’ve͡ be͞en ab̨l̡e̕ t̀o fìnd us̴ b̷y n͡ow, no͞t͞ wan͡der thes̢e̷ ͞hal̸ls an͟d ̸search̴i̸nģ ̡fo̧r̨ ͡clu͟e̴s lìk̶e̛ ̶a̵ h̨ea͝dles͝s ch̷ìc͢ken̨.”

Us? Orrie felt his blood run cold.

“Ýȩs̢, ‘u̴s͠’,” the fake turned to Orrie; the boy hadn’t realized he’d spoken out loud. “You̶ ̕t̕h͞ink I͞ d̢idn͏’t́ h̢av͏e inside͏ hel͏p ͞ pulli̢ng of͞f̕ t͞he̕s̸e mur̢de̶rs? Yo̸ư reall͝y̢ ͡b̢elieve ev͞er̷yone he̶re͞ is wor̢th tr̶ưs͡tinǵ?” He grinned as he gestured toward the Sterlings. “A̡re̢ t͠hey wo͟rth̷ ́tr͝u̷s̷ti̷n̢g̵? T̀hey nev̵er o͠n͡ce ͝to͝l͢d y̛ou the̢y c̀oųld use thi̢s̀ ͟l̨evel of mag̵ic̛, m͡agi̸c t͠hąt c͝ou̴l̴d ̡ha͝v͡e save̛d́ the o̸t̢h͢er̸s.” The illusion started to fade away. “Hòw ̕m͢a̸n̡y͏ dòes ̷th́at mak̷e de̵a͝d n̛ow̸? Fiv̶e to̵ó ḿa̛ny̢? M̧ay͞b̶e͡ ̨y͟ou’̧ll͡ be ͝n͡ext.” And he was gone.

Dipper stood; his eyes were changing back to normal and his wings folded and appeared to melt away inside him. “We need to leave this area. I can’t pinpoint where he’s projecting from.” He helped Belle to stand.

“You were right, bro,” she muttered, eyes staring at the floor. “We should’ve done your plan first. I just didn’t think it’d get this far…” She looked over, only then remembering about Orrie. “Are you alright?” Orrie only stared back. Panic. Confusion. Worry. Terror. There wasn’t a single emotion that could describe him at that moment. He opened his mouth, his jaw trembling slightly.

“What…?” Dipper tensed. Then he approached. Orrie tried to take another step back only to find himself paralyzed in place. His mind was too overwhelmed to do much of anything. It was only when Dipper was in front of him he spoke again. “Who are you?”

“…Alcor the Dreambender. Now come on; we can’t stay here.”

The trip to the supply closet felt like an eternal march. Orrie was dimly impressed he could remember the way back to it, leading the twins through the halls quickly. When they reached the closet, he pulled open the hidden door.

“How’d you even find this place?” Belle asked, climbing down the ladder after him. “And we’re sure they can’t spy on us in here?” Orrie didn’t respond.

“It’s safe,” Dipper assured her. “Even without my doing there’s enough magical interference to screw up any placed machinery down here.” He landed beside them, turning to Orrie. “And now that we know no one will eavesdrop on us…” Having been given time to sort through his thoughts and emotions, the formulation of resentment was quite evident on Orrie’s face, even in the near darkness.

The boy didn’t say anything for a while. So Dipper continued. “I know you’re wondering why we—”

Orrie spoke lowly, bitterly. “That fake you was right.” Dipper was taken aback by those words.

“Okay…wasn’t expecting this.”

“Why should I trust you? You…you could have saved us! You could have stopped all this…but you didn’t. I thought you…” Orrie tried to swallow the agonizing lump growing in his throat. “Is this all a game to you?” Dipper didn’t respond right away.

“At first,” he eventually said, but he quickly clarified himself when Orrie shot him a glare filled with more hurt and anger. “That is, it was a game to me as much as it was to you. We seriously came here to have fun.”

“Then why didn’t you do anything!?” Orrie cried, “You knew, didn’t you, from the start? When Ms. Wheatly died– you knew that wasn’t an act. But you kept playing along like the staff did.”

“We needed to,” Belle interrupted, earning Orrie’s tearful glare.

“Oh yeah? Why?”

“Because the legend about this mansion has some truth behind it,” answered Dipper. “Like we’ve said before: I’m meant to be a prisoner here. I can sense the wards lining the foundation and supports of this manor. They’re admittedly powerful, and my powers…well, they’re not exactly sealed, more like restricted. It’s actually quite infuriating, really, what little I can do.”

“Can’t you just get rid of them?” Orrie questioned him, only a hint of his anger subsiding. “I thought you couldn’t be bound. Why not burn the place down if you’re so desperate?”

“Because I told you we came here to have fun. I was willing to put up with the hindrance for a couple of days. Wouldn’t be the first time doing so, either. And, with my powers sealed, I’d considered it a bonus that my omniscience wouldn’t be ruining the mystery for me for once.”

Orrie frowned. “You have omniscience but you didn’t know any of this was going to happen?”

“Because omniscience doesn’t work that way,” Dipper growled, “If it did, I’d have burned down this mansion the second we got here. You think I’d purposely put Belle and myself into this mess? Last night when I saw Ms. Wheatly dead I knew instantly, and I told Belle what I suspected: that a staff member had killed her, likely my fake.”

“And you didn’t decide to do anything then!?”

“Because I asked him not to!” Belle interjected, her shout causing Orrie to shut up. “It…the energy it would take to overpower the wards would bring this whole place down, and Dipper admitted there was no guarantee that he’d be able to save all of you if that happened. It was me who asked him to hold off, to see if complying for just a while longer might save everyone. I figured if he slowly gathered energy in secret while the rest of us acted oblivious he’d have the strength eventually to take down the cultists. But…” Belle looked down, avoiding eye contact with her brother, “Dug died. Then Cliff. And now the Tosettis. And that’s all my fault. I was wrong. I wish I could go back in time and slap myself for being so idiotic, but I can’t. Maybe once we get home I’ll have my meltdown, but right now I’m just focusing on saving you and the others alongside Dipper.”

Orrie continued to frown at the two, anger and broken trust almost overriding all sense of rationalizing. They should have come out with the truth from the beginning, then maybe all the guests would be working together to get out alive. Maybe Dug and Cliff and the Tosettis would still be with them. Maybe they’d have the confidence of getting out knowing Alcor was on their side.

Or maybe Belle was right and the cultists would double down on the wards and stop him from fighting back. But Alcor had always been described as a creature unable to be contained; being trapped shouldn’t be an issue for him. Plus…he was a demon; ultimately, what did human lives matter to him? Was he telling the truth that he no longer saw this as a game, or was he just saying that to make Orrie think he cared about them? But then again, he would have already left if that were the case—

“I don’t know what to think anymore!” Orrie pressed his back to the wall, head leaning back. “I just. Want. To go home.” The anger melted into weariness, and he slid down to the ground. “I want to go home. I want to trust you.”

“You can,” Belle stepped closer and squatted down. “I can’t promise everything will be alright, but I can promise that we’ll look out for you. For each other. Because that’s what friends do.” Orrie studied her, observed how her tired smile still shone with hope. She held out her hand, and after a second or two of debate, Orrie took it, rising. He glanced at Dipper and saw how the boy also shared that mirroring smile. He tried to smile back. He must have succeeded because Belle’s grin grew just a bit brighter.

“Alright. No more secrets—or at least pertaining to our predicament. We need to come up with a new plan.”

“I thought you were going with his plan now since yours didn’t work,” said Orrie.

“My plan still needs time to pull off. We may have disabled the rune in the attic, but the various other wards embedded in the manor’s foundation are still hindering me from destroying them without potentially killing the rest of you. I still need more power to get the remaining guests out safely.”

“And we still don’t know why the cultists want us to solve the mystery in the first place,” added Belle. “It’d be one thing if they were searching for hidden treasure, but they wouldn’t need us to look for it. They have the rest of the year to do that without any interruptions.”

“And this attraction has been going on for years,” said Orrie, “So why now with us?” He inhaled sharply. “Is it because that fake now knows you’re the real deal?”

Dipper frowned. “Unlikely. He started killing long before we found the attic, so we were going to end up being his targets. And I don’t think he’s fully convinced I’m Alcor.”

Belle blinked. “Wait, why not?”

“He hasn’t sent out anyone to get us yet. He knows we’ve disabled the rune in the attic but haven’t gone to search for him. He’s aware I could find him if I wanted to. I don’t want him to know it’s me; that’s why I lied and said I couldn’t pinpoint his location. Better to have him underestimate our abilities than suspect the worst. He’s underground somewhere, but I can sense that this tunnel won’t lead us to him.”

“It won’t; it leads to the greenhouse.” The twins stared at Orrie. “I…might have explored a bit while waiting for you guys to finish eating breakfast.” He was surprised when he heard Dipper chuckle.

“I would have done the same.” Orrie allowed a small grin.

“So for now we just let that creep keep thinking it was all an act?” Dipper nodded at his twin. “Fine. But you have to hurry up, bro-bro. We can’t keep waiting much longer.”

“Hopefully we won’t have to.” He nodded toward the ladder, and the other two understood. They climbed back out of the tunnel, listening carefully for any nearing footsteps before exiting the closet. Dipper led the way back to the foyer. Orrie felt a surge of remorse when he saw the two bodies missing. Where had they gone, and who took them? “It’s late,” Dipper spoke up suddenly.

“Huh?” Orrie fumbled through his pockets for his phone and stared at the time. It was only 6:17PM. “It’s not that late,” he muttered.

“You’re exhausted,” Dipper said, leading the way up the stairs. “You—” He paused about five steps from the top, staring at the step in front of him. Without another word he jumped over it and motioned for them to do the same. Belle did so after spotting what her brother had. Orrie saw it too when he reached it: a thin gap could barely be seen just beneath the tread nosing. “You didn’t see it, Orrie—” Orrie looked up when Dipper started talking to him, “—But Jackson’s foot was sliced right above his heel. Most certainly a blade cut his tendon, and he pulled his wife down with him when he tumbled.”

Orrie could only let out a tiny “Oh.” A small part of him now wished Dipper never told him.

They made it to the Sterlings’ room shortly after. “You guys rest,” Dipper instructed, standing close to the door after they’d entered. “I’ll keep watch from outside since I don’t need to sleep.”

“But tomorrow’s the last day,” Orrie argued, “What if they decide to kill us if we don’t solve the mystery in time? We should continue looking for clues.”

“Trust me, you’re both a lot more tired than you realize. And the stress won’t make you think properly; we all need to be at peak mental condition to solve the remaining hints. You can have my bed tonight.”

“Not like I’ll be able to sleep after the day we’ve had,” the boy muttered. Inside, however, he was grateful Dipper was letting him have his bed; he was downright terrified of splitting up from them now despite his lingering misgivings.

Dipper stepped out of the room, locking the door behind him. “And make sure you rest up too,” Belle called after him. There was a muffled reply of coming inside if nothing was happening before Belle sighed and climbed onto her bed, placing the grappling hook she still had with her on the nightstand. “No point changing; probably going to get straight to business once we wake up.” She turned to Orrie, an odd expression on her face that held neither a smile nor a frown. “So…what do you really think of him?”

“Of your brother?”

“Yeah. That look you’re making; you’ve had it ever since we’ve left the tunnel. I can’t describe it– do you still not believe us? Because my broseph was being open with everything he told you.”

“I—” He hesitated. “I don’t…distrust him.” He paused, biting his lower lip.

“But you don’t trust him completely either.” Orrie nodded. Belle smiled. “Well, that’s more than what I was hoping for.”

Orrie climbed onto Dipper’s bed. “It’s just that I don’t know how to see him anymore. He’s similar to how my grandpa described him—all things considered—but he’s not as…” He chuckled nervously. “Don’t be offended, but your brother doesn’t seem as caring about the others’ deaths as you or me. And he’s not exactly trying his best to keep tabs on the other guests to make sure they’re safe either. I’d thought he’d be a bit more sympathetic.”

Belle seemed to mull over his words, bobbing her head slightly to the side. When she spoke it was with complete understanding of what he meant. “Dipper’s old.” Orrie stared dumbly at her simple response.

“I…figured?”

She smiled so pityingly. “He’s really old. Like, really, really old. He’s witnessed a lot of death. He tells me about it sometimes—what he’s seen and done and watched others do. He has to seem uncaring, ya’ know, given what he is. But I’ve seen Dipper cry those nights after a long summons. He’s not unsympathetic; he just views mortal lives differently than we do. But I swear we’re both trying our absolute hardest to save everyone.”

Orrie glanced away, the edges of his eyes itching. He blinked the feeling away. “I guess you would have a ton of confidence in him since you’re pretty much his Mizar.” He quickly looked back up. “W-wait, I didn’t mean that offensively. I just meant you’d have a better understanding of him than others.”

“Of course!” Belle nodded, “But not because I’m Mizar. Dipdop’s my twin brother. And, yeah, he saved me because I’m a Mizar, but he stayed with me because of who I am: my own person who makes my own choices and decisions. I’m no more or less special than any other twin sister.”

Orrie could feel the last of his distrust bubble away as he chuckled lowly. “And that’s what I heard about the most: how human he is. He cares for the people he likes. He’s fun and weird and…nice.” He reached for his backpack and pulled out his sketchbook, turning to a particular page. He passed it to Belle. “Remember back on the bus when I said I wouldn’t summon him except in danger. Well, that wasn’t entirely truthful. For the longest I wanted to summon him for something else.” He watched as Belle stared at the drawing, his own artwork he made at the age of four when he first heard his grandfather’s cult-adventurous days.

Belle grinned, and Orrie could tell it was not in teasing of the childish drawing. “Let me guess: you, your grandpa, and my brother having ice cream at an amusement park?” Orrie laughed, nodding, and Belle beamed brighter. “Bro’s ego is big enough without the fan art, but he’d love it nonetheless. You did a pretty good job. But I was under the impression you’ve never met.”

“We haven’t. That was what I wanted to do if I ever got the chance to meet him. I never wanted to summon him for fame or fortune; I just wanted to be his friend.” He lay back, staring at the ceiling. “I used to think Alcor didn’t have a lot of friends long after the Transcendence. You hear a lot about his allies shortly after the event took place, like the first Mizar and the Woodsman, but almost nothing of them after that. I used to believe his first friends were human, which was why he didn’t have many left because they all had died. And it also explained his dislike for human sacrifices. So my reasoning, as a kid, was he liked hanging with the Seekers of Starlight because they had become his new friends and he wasn’t lonely anymore. And…I could relate to that.”

Belle gently closed the sketchbook and handed it back to Orrie. “And do you still want to be his friend?”

“I…yeah. I still want to.” Belle smiled.

“Thanks. Dipper could use some more friends in his life. Someone to drag his butt out of the house every once in a while.” She moved and positioned herself under the covers. “I don’t know about you, but I’m really sleepy all of a sudden. I think I’ll hit the hay a bit early.”

“I think I’ll join you,” Orrie yawned. Dipper was right; the exhaustion hit faster and harder than he was expecting. He clambered beneath the sheets, already his eyelids growing too heavy to keep open. Sleep came easy enough, but it was staying within the realm of slumber that became a challenge when the nightmares started. Of shadows and spiders and chilling laughter chasing him through endless hallways. But one by one they melted away until he could finally catch his breath, could stop and curl up and drift away into peaceful obliviousness.

Orrie awoke the next morning feeling completely rejuvenated. He sat up and stretched, seeing Belle do the same, her hair a slightly ruffled mess. He climbed out of bed, grabbing his backpack, already ready for the day. They needed to be.

After waiting for Belle to fix her hair and toss her makeshift weapon into his bag so she could free up both hands, the two only then noticed Dipper inside the room, sitting and leaned back against the wall by the door. It looked like he was dozing.

“I thought you didn’t need to sleep,” Orrie said.

Dipper didn’t even stir. “I don’t. But I still need to recuperate.” He peeked an eye open. “Sleep well?”

“I—yeah, I think I did. I feel refreshed, anyway. I want to say I had a nightmare, but I can’t remember it at all.” Dipper smiled lightly before finally standing.

“Alright, we have to move fast. We’ve got—” Belle quickly checked her phone, “—a little less than six hours to find the last four clues.”

“That’s not a lot of time,” Orrie said, frowning. Yet they had no other choice. Wait, four? That’s right; he forgot to tell them about the clue he found earlier. “Oh, yeah. Guys, I—” There was the sudden sound of a door slamming and rushing footsteps racing down the stairs. By the time the three reacted and Dipper yanked open the door, the person running was long gone. As they hurried down the east wing, Orrie could see all the other bedroom doors were shut.

Belle was the first to reach and look over the banister. “Was that Zahia? Is she is danger?”

Dipper narrowed his eyes. “It has to be; her room’s closest to the stairs. Let’s hurry—she could be running right into a trap.”

They sprinted down the stairs two at a time, watchful to leap over the step with the hidden blade.

“Zahia, wait!”

“You need to stop, Zahia!”

“Please listen to us!” But their shouts yielded no response, only the distant echoes of shoes pounding against polished floor in haste to get away. “Do you suppose it was one of the staff members that scared her?” wondered Orrie as he and the twins turned right at the end of the north hall. They’ve been down this path before, so it was no surprise when they stumbled upon the various doors leading to different rooms. Zahia could be hiding in any one of them.

“No idea, but she’s definitely near here.” answered Dipper. He took the lead. “Zahia?” They walked slowly down the hallway and listened carefully through each door they passed for any noise.

“It’s only us,” Orrie called out.

“We want to help you,” Belle added. She paused in front of one door, waiting for some sort of response. “We’re trying to get everyone out of here, but you need to stop hiding.”

“Quit indulging him!” Definitely Zahia, and she was close. “All of you! Just leave me alone!” Her voice was coming from the end of the hall. Picking up the pace, they made for the door at the very end.

The second door before that one opened up suddenly. “WHA!” A hand had reached out and snatched Belle in right as she was about to pass it. Orrie’s reaction was far slower than Dipper’s; in less than a second the boy found himself pushed out of the way as Dipper had already spun around and practically flew through the door. Torn for only a split second, Orrie forsake finding Zahia to go rescue Belle. He ran through the door moments after Dipper had. The teen—demon—was standing in the middle of the room, just at the edge of a trapdoor leading down into darkness.

Orrie had no idea how far down it led.

“Wait here,” Dipper instructed before jumping in. He was swallowed up by the shadows in a matter of seconds, but it fortunately wasn’t long before Orrie heard his voice again. “It’s not that far. I’ll catch you.”

“Okay.” Orrie was about to jump in when a strong hand grabbed him from behind, covering his mouth. “Mmfhm!?” He was pulled back from the edge.

“Orrie!”

“Don’t worry, he’s safe with me,” an arrogant voice called out to him. “Go rescue your sister. I’ll make sure nothing happens to the lad.” Orrie struggled in Siegfried’s grip, wondering where he’d come from, but he knew the man was right. Of the two of them, Belle was the one in graver danger. Still, it was a bit disheartening when he heard Dipper’s riled growl and his footsteps leading away from them. “And as for you.” There was a soft click of metal, and Orrie instantly froze when a cool thin barrel was pressed firmly against his temple. “I’ll stand by my word nothing will happen to you as long as you do what I say.”

Tears of fear were springing to his eyes. His breaths grew quick and shallow, and he could hear the high-pitched ring of blood pumping in his ears. Despite this, Orrie nodded slowly. “You are going to hand over that key you found.” Orrie didn’t move, so Siegfried released his hold. “I’m waiting.”

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He didn’t care if his voice was tight; he honestly had no idea what key Siegfried was referring to. They already used all the ones they’d found to open the clues. The gun pressed harder against his skull, and Orrie let out a terrified whimper. “I swear! You can check my bag! You can check our rooms, too! I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about.” Siegfried didn’t say anything. Then he grabbed Orrie’s arm—finally lowering the gun—and dragged him out of the room. A pang of fear shot through the boy as he was pulled even further away from his friends.

“Don’t think I haven’t already,” Siegfried said as he led Orrie back down the hall. “How else would I’ve known the key was missing? Zahia’s was the only room I hadn’t checked yesterday, but I got fed up waiting for that stupid woman to leave and barged in myself.” They reached the foyer, and Siegfried roughly shoved Orrie ahead of him. “This is your last chance, boy: did you take the key or not? And don’t bother lying saying you haven’t been looking for clues.”

“No.” Orrie didn’t know how more blunt he could sound. “We took nothing. Our efforts really have been toward trying to find a way to escape, and we think we’re close. We don’t care about the mystery.”

“But I do.” And Orrie couldn’t help staring at the man with incredulity. Siegfried was clearly insane if he thought the murderers were still planning to hand over the cash prize for solving their clues. But insanity aside, greed could lead to unpredictability and desperation, and Orrie hazarded the quickest of glances at the pistol held at the man’s side. Siegfried held his chin thoughtfully, pondering on something. Then he smiled almost cheerfully; a cold chill shot down Orrie’s spine. “It seems we are both in a bit of a bind. Your friend needs rescuing, and I need that final clue. Surely the best method for us to achieve our goals is to work together, wouldn’t you say?”

This was hardly fair, and if Siegfried wasn’t armed right now Orrie would’ve made a run for it just to get away from him. The murderers were bad enough, but to find there were people out there who truly valued money over human lives was near sickening. An emotion stirred within him as he clenched his teeth, one he wasn’t wholly familiar with. It wasn’t anger exactly…was this rage? It was a frightening compulsion to resist lashing out against the person who’d dare threaten him after leaving his friends to fend for themselves.

It was a wonder he managed to keep the ire so well-hidden.

“Alright. I’ll help you.”