Challenged - Skinwalker Book 2

Chapter 17

After lunch Devon and Sierra were given another short induction session. This one was a little more interesting. It was a brief history of the Sauveterre's role in the Order's crusade - at least, its earlier periods might have been likened to a crusade. Instead of sitting cosy in the library, Jocelyn took them on a private tour of some of the castle's 'family only' wings. She used the paintings Sierra had noticed in the entrance to identify certain key members of the family over the centuries, and then showed them some freaky but fascinating artefacts as they talked.

"Of course people have always been superstitious and resorted to magic and mysticism to explain and defeat your kind," Jocelyn noted as she stopped at a display with a gleaming silver bullet inside of it. "Before we had science to lend us understanding, there were only these and the bestiaries," she informed them as she came to a climate controlled, glass display case with a very large collection of well-used, ancient-looking, leather-bound volumes in it.

"What are they?" Sierra asked with interest.

She had a feeling knowing the answer was going to make her wish she could open them up and look inside. She was right.

"They are the observations and notes made by our forefathers which were handed down from one generation to the next, often with the information re-written when the books began to disintegrate. Whenever someone understood something new about were-creatures, it was recorded. Much of what was originally published in the bestiaries was pure fiction concocted by religious fanatics that was completely useless to us in the field. So these ledgers and journals were often the best places to find answers. We have them all on electronic record now, but science has changed our understandings so much that they are generally considered to be obsolete."

Jocelyn lingered at the case a moment, her appreciation for everything her forefather's had endured, sacrificed and passed on evident in the soft glint in her eyes.

"What is that thing?" Sierra asked, trying to divert Madame Sauveterres attention to a less emotional topic.

She pointed to a sort of tri-headed harpoon.

"That is another example of how wrong they got it in the early days. It's a dark-age device for killing water sprites. Some Order members were convinced that the poor creatures had three hearts and so would keep living if you speared only the one.

"And this?" Devon asked as he fiddled with an odd looking contraption with a vice-lockable, bulbous clasp and a spring-loaded double blade that shuttered together when a lever was activated. "It looks like it has old blood stains that have eaten into the metal or something. That's so awesomely disgusting!"

"Uh... that was one of the directorate's ideas for preventing problem were-males from breeding," she informed him awkwardly.

It took a moment for what she'd said to sink in and the blood rushed from Devon's skin as he dropped the device in horror. Sierra managed to scoop it up before it reached the ground and place it back on its display cushion before any damage could be done. When she turned to look at him again, Devon's skin was white and he was frozen in place in an awkward pose, hands clutched protectively around his groin.

Don't laugh... don't laugh... don't laugh...

"I'm pretty sure it's a relic, Devon - as in it hasn't been used in centuries," she told him in an attempt to comfort him.

She glanced at Jocelyn for confirmation.

"It most certainly has not been used for at least two centuries," she confirmed. "They discovered other, less messy ways of getting the job done."