The evening sun was already sinking below the tops of the old, damp trees by the time he stepped out of the tavern. Golden rays of light shot upward, but the darkness of dusk was already setting in. The crickets and frogs and other creatures unseen were already beginning their nightly cries, encroaching on the edge of the small, ramshackle town. 

The corners of his mouth drew up as he stepped off of the wooden dock onto the marshy soil. It caved a few inches beneath his feet, leaving rounded prints as he began his journey. The sound of the hardly-oiled doors swinging shut still echoed in his ears, along with the shaky, drunken advice given by the locals slumped over the bar. “Somewhere in the marsh, aye,” one of the patrons had slurred. “With the Ruby!” Another had yelled over a chipped mug. Others had given slurred agreements.

He picked his way carefully across the marshy soil, avoiding the shallow pools of thick, muddy water that seemed to dot the ground at random intervals. All around him the world was cast in a deep green light, the last of the sun’s efforts to bring light and goodness to the world. He scowled.

As he stepped over a log, his ears twitched, brushing against the fabric of his gray hood. Something big was moving, somewhere out there. He stopped, standing on the solid surface of the log, and gazed in the direction of the sound. The advice had been shaky at best, but it seemed to have pointed him in the right direction. Changing his course, he stepped from the log and set off to the North East. 

***

The house was made of stone and of ancient, sturdy wood, something oddly solid to be in the marsh. Though perched on wooden support beams that vanished beneath the murky waters, the house stood two stories tall with a pointed, angular roof, and windows that glowed yellow with candlelight. Out front sat a lamp post with an old, rusted lantern hanging from its molded pole, illuminating a portion of the wooden bridge that led to the house. 

The hunter surveyed it from a distance, letting his cloak conceal him. As his eyes glided around the property he heard something that interrupted his evaluation—a small whine. He turned his head in search of the sound, realizing it wasn’t a frog or some other unsightly creature and saw a wooden cage on the edge of a large, pond-sized puddle. 

Almost hidden from sight, the thin cedar bars were lashed together with small white vines, yet sturdy enough to hold its captive inside. 

“Please get me out! Please!” The girl cried as the hunter approached. She gripped the bars with pale, muddy hands. The muck covered almost every portion of her skin, and her red dress was in tatters.

“Why’re you in the cage, girl?” The hunter asked. His nose shuddered.

“That...thing! Please! He’s going to kill me!” Her words were tainted with a sob. The hunter looked toward the house, not answering her. His ears twitched; there was movement inside. “...You’re a hunter, aren’t you?” She gasped, her eyes wide. The hunter looked back at her curiously. “Your cloak...I...You’re after him, right?” She whispered shakily. 

“I’m not sure yet,” the hunter said. 

The girl at his feet quieted, resigning to sit in her mud hole and watch the hunter with white-knuckled hands. He didn’t glance at her as he started toward the house, though her muffled, breathy sobs were just loud enough for him to hear. 

“And what do we have here?” The front door opened in a flourish as the hunter reached the first pristine board of the ancient bridge. He studied the creature inside as it smirked at him through lips too big for its gray face. Its sunken cheeks grew as its smile lengthened, reminding the hunter of an old lullaby of the Cheshire cat. 

He remained silent as the creature ducked through the doorway, its back almost grazing the top of the wooden frame. He lifted his gaze as it straightened up, and watched as it grew much taller as it approached. The boards of the bridge whined beneath the creature’s weight, and its long, lanky limbs were like its smile—too much for its body. As it approached the light of the lantern the hunter could see its gray skin covered by a black suit fit for an upscale city-dweller, complete with a wormwood cane and a silk top hat. 

The creature paused when it was a few feet away from the hunter. It placed both of its gloved hands atop the copper coating of the cane’s handle and leaned forward. It stared at the hunter with a delighted smile. The moments passed in silence, with only the ambiance of the marsh taking up the space between them. The hunter could feel the creature’s gaze roaming his cloaked form, taking in every detail it could. 

“What’s your name, dear guest? You must have one. It would be dreadfully awful if you didn’t—I have met a few of your kind who haven’t had the blessing of being graced with a name.” The creature frowned regrettably.

“I don’t have a name,” the hunter said. “And you?”

“Ah, my sir! ‘Tis a sad fact indeed! I am the founder of that quaint little town a few miles to the South, mostly known as The Baron. You though may call me Baron, my furry friend. Pleased to make your acquaintance,” the Baron bowed. The hunter had to step back as the Baron’s top half bent horizontal and its hat almost grazed the end of his nose. He watched the lanky creature carefully.

“Yes, it is a pleasure, Baron,” the hunter nodded his head. 

A quiet sob caused him to flick his ears back toward the sound. The Baron peered over his head in the same direction with a smile. “I take it you’ve seen my catch of the day?”

The hunter took another step back and positioned himself where he could see both the Baron and the girl. “Yes, I did. I saw her in passing. Why is the human in the cage?”

“Well if this isn’t odd. I thought your kind didn’t care for her species very much.” 

“No, we don’t.”

“Ah, then you mustn’t be surprised the girl found her way into the cage. Quite a pest, she’s been.”

The hunter watched the creature as it stared at the girl. Its face was covered in an expression of reminiscence. “It sounds as if you have a history.” 

“Oh me, it does? Well, I suppose I can’t deny that. You are correct, I do know the girl. It’s about time she was..subdued.” The Baron’s smile drooped a little. 

“Subdued? Someone like you shouldn’t have to subdue a human.” Looking just below the Baron’s gloved fingers, the hunter could see a small copper button on the handle of the cane. 

“They really are exotic creatures, are they not?” The Baron said, adjusting its grip on the cane without taking its eyes off its catch. 

“You must not get many humans out this way.”

“Oh, no, they’re a rather common commodity on my estate.” 

The hunter flexed his right hand beneath the cover of his cloak. The cool night air of the marsh was causing an old ache to resurface in his joints.

“My cherished passerby, how terrible of me to neglect your condition! I would ask you inside, but I’m afraid my humble abode is in a bit of disrepair now that my lovely, late wife is no longer able to help with the maintenance.” 

“Late wife? How long ago did she pass, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“Do not be hesitant! You are free to speak openly in the presence of the Baron! I’m afraid it was a rather...recent...incident.” The Baron looked over the hunter’s head. Through stiff lips, it mumbled, “it has been dreadfully detrimental to my customers.”  

“Customers? What sort of customers would you have out in the marsh? One would think most business matters would be handled in town.”

“Ah, yet again I speak not in my mind! ‘Tis a practice I must stop.” The Baron bared its teeth in an unwelcoming smile. The ambiance of the marsh pressed in around them, and the quickly approaching dark was warded off by the flickering flame inside the lantern.

“You did not answer my question.”

“My dear guest! You look like a creature of business. You must know those in want will travel to the most...obscure...of regions in search of commodities uncommon to their own.”

“And what product do you provide for these customers?”

Another quiet sob drifted across the unstable ground toward the bridge. The hunter shifted his weight. “Ah, do not let the girl disturb you, good sir. Though different from you and I, she still holds the power a woman holds over a man. Much deeper her thoughts run than yours or mine.”

“I find it strange the girl brought herself out here. Wouldn’t the men of the town notice something like her missing?”

“Do they speak of her?” The Baron’s fingers twisted around the copper handle. 

“I’m not sure. I was only there for a short time.”

“One does not simply find themselves so far from civilization without purpose, nor reside within my humble town for such an unextended amount of time after a long journey through the lowlands. You must be passing through, I’m sure, but for what reason, if I may inquire?”

“I was there for information. Taverns usually provide me with what I’m looking for.”

“And what is it you’re looking for now, my cloaked friend?”

“For now the question I wish to know the answer to is why the tavern couldn’t provide me with solid information of its founder’s house in the marsh, or why a young girl in a cage wasn’t mentioned.”

The Baron slid its thumb down to the copper button, letting the light gray silk hover over the cold metal. “Nothing can be certain on uncertain ground, my unnamed guest. I wouldn’t expect drunkards to provide any type of sound information.”

“Yes, but they would speak of recent events or news without restraint, especially of a young girl in an isolated town.”

“They know better than to speak of murderers.” The Baron’s voice lowered to a growl. 

The sobs suddenly stopped. The hunter saw the girl sitting straight up, her hands still clutching the cedar bars and her red dress shining like a jewel, but the expression of desperation no longer on her face. Her attention was trained on the Baron. “As I said, her thoughts run deeper than yours or mine. Encounters with her kind have taught me to be wary,” it said quietly, keeping its attention on the cage. The hunter barely caught the mumbled words leaving the Baron’s mouth, “she was right.” 

“How many of her kind have you encountered?” 

“Many,” the Baron narrowed his eyes, “but none quite like her. I’ve become accustomed to their words and emotions, but this one’s artful mastery of the skills is impressive, yet dangerous.”

Somewhere in the distance, an inhabitant of the marsh croaked, signaling the death of the final rays of sunlight. The cries of more unseen creatures joined the chorus, creating a symphony of uncontrolled noise. Small lights began flickering on and off in the air, an effort by the fireflies to light up the portion of earth that wouldn’t be touched by moonlight.

“If skillful at manipulation, why is she in the cage? Wouldn’t she have worked her way out?”

“If she wasn’t skillful, she would be dead,” the Baron’s lips peeled back in a snarl. “Tell me, how would you punish a criminal?”

“Any way I see fit.” The hunter looked toward the girl, and she was now staring at him. The desperation was palpable. 

“I’m glad you agree.” 

        A buzzing kept the hunter from speaking. He and the Baron looked down and saw the handle of the cane vibrating, just enough to be noticeable. “Ah, it looks like someone is coming for a late-night visit. It would be unseemly for one unnamed guest to meet another in the event of a business deal, no?” The Baron turned its attention fully on the hunter.

        “Is that why you’re dressed up, for your customers?”

        “We all dress for our jobs, do we not? Now if you’ll excuse me, I really must take care of my little Ruby out there in the muck. It would be dreadful for my patrons to see how the stock is handled before reaching the shelves.” The Baron bowed and stepped past the hunter. He watched as the creature’s long strides carried it toward the cage, and when it reached the girl it glanced back. Its expression was not kind. Nodding his head, the hunter stepped from the bridge back onto the uneven ground, continuing to the North East. 

***

           His journey did not take him far. He quietly stepped around the unstable pockets of muck and circled the house, stopping very near to where he had first arrived. By now the moon was taking its place in the sky, though none of its light was passing through the thick canopy. He didn’t mind it—his eyes let him see where most could not.

       The Baron stood just outside its front door, its hands clutching the cane and its face turned toward the marsh, eagerly searching for something it couldn’t see. The creature’s estate was no longer occupied by quiet sobs, but instead by the sounds of squishing mud beneath unseen creatures’ feet. The hunter tried to locate where the girl had been moved to, but even the area where the cage had been sitting showed no sign of her captivity. He wondered how the Baron had been able to get her moved as quickly as it did, but his thoughts didn’t stay on the issue for long—something was coming.

Only a short time later the hunter could see what held the Baron’s attention: it was a squat creature, more than twice as wide as the hunter and maybe half as high as the Baron’s hip. A dark cloak kept him from identifying which species it belonged to, but that wasn’t what caught his attention—it was the jingling leather pouch of coins hanging from its belt, somewhere beneath its cloak.

“Hello, sir! What a pleasure to have you on this fine night!” The Baron raised an arm in greeting and bowed. The same stretched smile it had worn when greeting the hunter was on its face as it greeted the newcomer. 

“Ey? I suppose. It’s a bit chilly to be doing business,” the cloaked creature grumbled. The Baron walked forward, stepping onto the bridge with its arm still thrown up in greeting. 

“Ah, but my loyal customer! You must agree that the cold makes them less of a hass—”

“The place’s looking rough, Baron. Having a hard time keeping the place up after your old crone kicked the bucket? You know that’s bad for business.” The cloaked creature waddled onto the bridge, scrutinizing the wood beneath its feet.

“That’s precisely the reason I asked you here. I know you have a fondness of those that...resist.” Even from his position on the edge of the property, the hunter could see the Baron’s grip tighten on the cane. 

“Aye, you decided on selling the beauty?” The cloaked creature’s voice took on a lighter tone, forgetting any judgment it harbored previously. 

“I didn’t clarify which I had for you, my good sir, but yes, I do have another one in stock strictly for you. Ruby is another matter entirely.”

“After that arrangement, I’m surprised you didn’t sell her for parts. You know lupines have a taste for that type of stuff.”

“I do not dabble in that sort of business, may I remind you,” the Baron frowned. “Regardless, I have been conflicted. It was the erroneous timing of my dear wife that caused the arrangement to come to the end that it did. If—”

“Should’ve sold her on the spot. You know I would’ve bought her,” the cloaked creature whistled. It came to a stop in front of the Baron, peering into the house curiously. 

“Yes, well, I would have sold her if I knew what would’ve become of her release. There is a reason I chose to erect my estate in such an unassuming location.”

“Yeah, I know the story, Baron. Let’s get a look at my new item, yeah? It’s chilly out here.” The cloaked creature stepped past the Baron and pushed its way through the partially open door into a room warmed by candlelight. The Baron’s cheeks grew as it snarled, and its thumb hovered dangerously close to the copper button. Very quickly it regained its composure and peered down at the button. It didn’t move for a few moments, but then turned and followed its customer into the house.

As the door shut, the hunter flattened his ears and turned away, beginning a new journey to the South. The advice had been shaky at best, and hadn’t pointed him in the right direction. Beneath his cloak, his heart threatened to thrum out a quickening pace, but one breath had it unwillingly back at its normal rhythm. All too often he’d stumble onto situations needing a hero, but in his line of work, there were none. Stepping onto the solid surface of the log, he reset his thoughts to the tavern and finding information on the bounty.