Play@YSDC

"I'm in here!" gasps Laurent once he recovers his breath. Once he is able, he gets to his feet, takes his hammer out of the bag of tools, and smashes the hideous idol to pieces in a fit of rage.

Thank you, I was looking forward to that.

Suppress Knowledge roll (Insight 5):
1d6
Insight reduced to 4.

Swinging his hammer against the noisome statue, Laurent finds it strangely solid as the tool crashes into it. It doesn't even move with the impact but where the hammer head strikes a series of cracks extend out across the smooth surface of the stone, iridescent veins, pulsing with sinister hues until between the cracks a bright flash of light erupts, shimmering, shifting colours, deep blues, emerald greens, thrumming purples bathing the cave in a swirling polychromatic lightshow that burns Laurent's eyes. For portentous seconds the idol just seems to sit there, frozen in time, shining out - trapping Laurent in an endless moment of awe and fear. Then chunks of stone slip, slowly sliding down the side of the statue, along the lines of fracture, then faster, more and more fragments, it begins to fall apart. Laurent has the strange sense of the statuette writhing and twisting somehow, like in pain, the shape warping even as it disintegrates before his eyes, crumbling to a pile of rock fragments that continue to emit a faint green glow in the darkness, casting shifting, wriggling shadows against the walls.

Laurent looks on the mound of stone chips with a sense of triumph and vindication. But in the back of his mind there's a new, unsettling, uncomfortable feeling. A lingering sense of dread and incomprehension. The nagging doubt that perhaps he has released something that should never see the light of day.

-----

Turning back to Pierre, Laurent sees he's come partway through the crack in the rocks, scrabbling blindly across the rough stone. 'Laurent, Laurent, what is happening? Are you hurt?' Behind him the bright sunlight suddenly dims, and Laurent sees some sort of shadow beyond Pierre.

"No, I'm not hurt," says Laurent. "I don't know if you'd believe me if I told you what happened, but be prepared for a shock. Who's that behind you?"

Pierre turns to look behind him as the dim light turns black and the tunnel fills with the flapping, writhing black forms of hundreds of bats swarming back into the cave from outside. Pierre flattens himself against the stone and Laurent ducks down behind the lip of the fissure. The furry black forms criss-cross the cave, buffeting against Laurent, he feels the scratching of their little claws through his clothes and against his skin. The musky, ammonic-stench of their bodies. The flap of the wings. Until eventually they rise up to the roof of the cave and roost, a roiling sea of bodies, seething and rippling, moving with one breath.

From the crack in the rock, Laurent hears Pierre's voice, he's picking his face back off the stone, 'Come on Laurent,' he reaches out a hand.

Laurent goes over to Pierre, takes his hand, and helps him to his feet.

Pierre scrabbles through the last of the rocky passage and Laurent helps him to climb out, into the cave. It takes him a moment to take in the sight. The piles of bones, splintered skeletons, golden pedestal topped with shattered fragments of vaguely glowing stone. His eyes widen and he grasps hold of Laurent's arm. 'Wha...what happened here?' He pulls violently at Laurent, looking him straight in the face with a look of panic. 'What is happening Laurent?!'

Above them the roosting bats murmur and shift about, issuing a seething, scratching sound.

"I don't know," says Laurent, "but it can't be good. I smashed a hideous idol that was over on that pedestal, but I think I may have let something loose."

Pierre's eyes are wider than ever and his breathing is getting quicker and quicker. He clutches at his throat and makes a gurgling sound.

Laurent tries to help Pierre, standing behind him so as not to get drenched. "That happened to me too when I came in here," he says. "It'll pass, but it isn't pleasant. Water's going to be coming out of your mouth."

Eventually Pierre doubles over and vomits into the dirt. Gulping deep breaths of air. After a minute of silence he wipes his mouth and just clambers back into the fractured rock. 'I don't want to see any more.'

"Yeah, I think I've seen enough too," says Laurent. "We need to find Auxian and tell him about this cave. and he's clearly not here. We can see if he's back at his place."

Laurent and Pierre scramble back out of the fissure in the cave wall. And emerge into the noon sunshine of Anse Douce. Waves lapping at the sand. Birds circling overhead. It all seems unreal after all they've seen. The two of them splash through the water as they walk back up the beach. It's hot, and both boys are sweaty and uncomfortable from their exertion. There's a light breeze but it doesn't seem to do anything to cool them down. The air still feels close, and clinging. The familiar fishy smell of Pointe Pierre grows stronger, and now that Laurent has filled his nose and lungs with the stench of that cave he can't seem to shake a lingering note of guano and decay.

Up at the pier in Pointe Pierre most of the fishermen have gone out. The gourd banjo is gone but there's no sign of old Pierre Labas.

"Looks like Pierre Labas picked up his banjo," says Laurent. "Let's go to the houngan."

Pierre and Laurent stroll languidly through the sweaty afternoon sun of Dame Marie towards the Hounfor district and Ramses's house. In the heat, the streets stink overpoweringly of donkey shit and effluent but today the air also has the slightest tang of salt from the sea. They walk past the Sharktooth Bar with a couple of people sitting outside drinking, Florence Lavigne doesn't seem to be working today.

Gliding past them on the other side of the unpaved main street, comes Mademoiselle André, teacher at the École Dame Marie, in a sleeveless dress of pale yellow cotton. It's a simple outfit but accentuates her shapely figure and draws the gaze of both Pierre and Laurent who are greeted with a wave and a 'Bonjour.'

Mlle André came to Dame Marie from Cap Matelot. In the beginning she lived at the school but before too long she moved out to the edge of town. Now that he thinks about it, Laurent recalls that she is Marise's teacher.

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle André," says Laurent, waving back. "How are you today?"

Mlle André stops, and crosses the road to the two boys. 'Oui, ça va, et toi?' She turns to Pierre, 'I heard about Marise's...illness, I hope she is feeling better.' Pierre mumbles something noncommittal, clearly overwhelmed by the presence of the attractive teacher. 'She has been so distracted recently. I thought it was that boy, Eddie Forbin, but I talked to him last week. He said he and Marise haven't been seeing each other for some time. That she used to come down to Pointe Pierre to listen to music with him but now she sneaks off by herself, says she wants to be alone. I'm worried about her.'

"I'm worried about her too," says Laurent. "We could go talk to her. Do you have any idea where she goes?"

'Non, I would have thought you boys would have a better idea than an old teacher like me, she smiles ruefully. 'George mentioned something about her being found in Anse Douce.' She shudders. 'I don't like that place, there's something wrong about it. Gives me headaches when I'm there, I feel, funny. George says his boat was lost out in the bay and you found some of the people from it, was that in Anse Douce?'

"I think it might have been," says Laurent. "I know the feeling. We just came from Ance Douce, but we saw no sign of her there."

'Maybe she's at home?' she asks Pierre, who shrugs noncommittaly. 'Tell Marise I'm thinking of her and she should feel free to come and talk to me any time. She knows where I live, in Dr Cleremont's old place.' She frowns and shakes her head, 'And Pierre, you children stay away from Anse Douce. I don't like it. I get the strangest feelings when I'm there. I just want to swim out into the sea and never come back. That place has a bad effect on people.'