With the help of Mr. Cardinal, Monsieur Jay carried Mrs. Ostrich into the living room. The woman stirred as she was set on the velvet couch, and she sat up, holding her head. As she tried to stand, she wobbled slightly and M Jay sat her back down.

Mr. Cardinal glanced around the room to make sure they hadn’t been followed. He shuddered, grasping the sleeves of his bright red suit coat. 

“I have a bad feeling about this,” he said. “I have a sneaking suspicion one of us is gonna turn up dead.”

“While that’s possible, ‘monsieur,’ the killer does not seem to want us to discover their identity,” M Jay said, adjusting his blue mask over his face. “Since there are three of us, the killer will likely not strike.”

“Oh, I hope not,” Mrs. Ostrich piped up. “I don’t know if I can handle any more surprises tonight.”

As if on cue, something clattered to the ground off in the distance. Mrs. Ostrich shrieked and grasped M Jay’s sleeve tightly, her lightly quivering figure pressed to his side. Mr. Cardinal narrowed his gaze and wandered over to where the sound had come from, and M Jay hurried after him.

“Hold, ‘bon homme,’” he whispered, setting a hand on Mr. Cardinal’s shoulder.

Mr. Cardinal swiveled around, letting out a soft yelp as he jerked his arm away. M Jay stepped back, and Mr. Cardinal calmed down some. “Sorry, you, uh, startled me.”

“Do not rush in blindly. We don’t know what is there.” M Jay’s accent became heavy with worry again.

“Right, I’ll be careful.”

Mrs. Ostrich took a lit candle from the lounge table to illuminate the dark hall, the source of the sound. She gasped, pointing shakily at her findings.

On the tile floor was a halberd, its blade covered in blood.

Edited by Abby Stetina | astetina@themaneater.com