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section7mfuBy popular demand, a sequel to last week's piece--
Short Affair 1/25
Prompt: Duck
Color: Silver
Title: It Took Place in a New York Cemetery, pt II
Author: Rose of Pollux
Word Count: ~630
“Napoleon! Look!”
Illya was indicating the dropped infrared camera from the night before. In the light of the morning sun, it was easy to find beside the empty grave that Napoleon had fallen in the night before.
“So, this is where we were,” Napoleon said, picking up the camera and trying to recall his bearings from the previous night.
“The THRUSH graverobbers were over there,” Illya said, pointing to a spot several years ahead of them. “They appear to have refilled the grave they were poking around in last night.”
“Sloppy bit of work,” Napoleon said, indicating the haphazardly-scattered dirt.
“This grave is old; I don’t think anyone has visited it before THRUSH. The grave appears to be unmarked, as well,” Illya indicated.
“The headstone is right there,” Napoleon said, indicating it without even looking at it; he was still focused on the dirt.
“I know, but there’s nothing on that headstone.”
“What!?”
Illya glibly indicated the blank stone, which was leaning against a large oak tree. Napoleon stared at the scene, baffled.
“That headstone has to be over fifty years old—probably even older,” Napoleon assessed. “Why has that stone been there all this time, unmarked? Who could be buried there?”
“Perhaps no one,” Illya said, his eyes widening. “The tale of Koschei the Deathless is only that—a tale. But if they are trying to use the legend as a smokescreen, then…” He knelt down on the ground, attempting to pull the loose dirt away with his hands.
Napoleon looked around once more to make sure they were alone before kneeling to help with the endeavor. A few minutes later, something emerged from the dirt.
“It’s a statue of a duck,” Napoleon said, unimpressed. “…I think it’s silver—tarnished, though. It’s probably as old as the headstone.”
“Napoleon… The tale of Koschei… You know the egg that held the needle that held his soul?”
“Let me guess; the egg was laid by a duck?”
“Close; the egg was in a duck and had to be cut out,” Illya said. “And before that, the duck had to be removed from within a hare.”
“…I think we just passed the point of the story where I could still allow for willing suspension of disbelief. Nevertheless, go on.”
“The hare was kept in a chest, which was buried beneath an oak tree.”
The two partners glanced at each other, and then at the blank headstone that was leaning against the tree.
“Well then…” Napoleon said. “Shall we get some shovels?”
“Da,” Illya said, slipping into his native tongue on account of the excitement. “Vy znayete, chto ya dumayu?”
“No, I don’t know what you’re thinking. Enlighten me.”
“THRUSH has the pieces of the Koschei tale in reverse,” Illya said, switching back to English. “The needle is some sort of homing device that’s to lead them to the chest. Whatever is in the chest is what they were looking for last night.”
“Then it’s up to us to find that chest before they do, homing device or not,” Napoleon said. “The shovels are in the car.”
“You can go get them; I’ll keep digging by hand until then,” Illya said, placing the silver duck aside and continuing to dig at the dirt. “After the silver duck, I expect we should find a gold hare next, and then the chest!”
Napoleon gave a nod, but then stopped in his tracks as he noticed something.
“Assuming you’re digging in the right unmarked grave beneath the right oak tree.”
“Why do you say that?”
Napoleon silently indicated the oak trees all around them—and how each one had an unmarked grave looking as old as the one near Illya.
“We’ve got a lot of digging to do, Tovarisch.”
Illya sighed deeply, but nodded in resignation.
Short Affair 1/25
Prompt: Duck
Color: Silver
Title: It Took Place in a New York Cemetery, pt II
Author: Rose of Pollux
Word Count: ~630
“Napoleon! Look!”
Illya was indicating the dropped infrared camera from the night before. In the light of the morning sun, it was easy to find beside the empty grave that Napoleon had fallen in the night before.
“So, this is where we were,” Napoleon said, picking up the camera and trying to recall his bearings from the previous night.
“The THRUSH graverobbers were over there,” Illya said, pointing to a spot several years ahead of them. “They appear to have refilled the grave they were poking around in last night.”
“Sloppy bit of work,” Napoleon said, indicating the haphazardly-scattered dirt.
“This grave is old; I don’t think anyone has visited it before THRUSH. The grave appears to be unmarked, as well,” Illya indicated.
“The headstone is right there,” Napoleon said, indicating it without even looking at it; he was still focused on the dirt.
“I know, but there’s nothing on that headstone.”
“What!?”
Illya glibly indicated the blank stone, which was leaning against a large oak tree. Napoleon stared at the scene, baffled.
“That headstone has to be over fifty years old—probably even older,” Napoleon assessed. “Why has that stone been there all this time, unmarked? Who could be buried there?”
“Perhaps no one,” Illya said, his eyes widening. “The tale of Koschei the Deathless is only that—a tale. But if they are trying to use the legend as a smokescreen, then…” He knelt down on the ground, attempting to pull the loose dirt away with his hands.
Napoleon looked around once more to make sure they were alone before kneeling to help with the endeavor. A few minutes later, something emerged from the dirt.
“It’s a statue of a duck,” Napoleon said, unimpressed. “…I think it’s silver—tarnished, though. It’s probably as old as the headstone.”
“Napoleon… The tale of Koschei… You know the egg that held the needle that held his soul?”
“Let me guess; the egg was laid by a duck?”
“Close; the egg was in a duck and had to be cut out,” Illya said. “And before that, the duck had to be removed from within a hare.”
“…I think we just passed the point of the story where I could still allow for willing suspension of disbelief. Nevertheless, go on.”
“The hare was kept in a chest, which was buried beneath an oak tree.”
The two partners glanced at each other, and then at the blank headstone that was leaning against the tree.
“Well then…” Napoleon said. “Shall we get some shovels?”
“Da,” Illya said, slipping into his native tongue on account of the excitement. “Vy znayete, chto ya dumayu?”
“No, I don’t know what you’re thinking. Enlighten me.”
“THRUSH has the pieces of the Koschei tale in reverse,” Illya said, switching back to English. “The needle is some sort of homing device that’s to lead them to the chest. Whatever is in the chest is what they were looking for last night.”
“Then it’s up to us to find that chest before they do, homing device or not,” Napoleon said. “The shovels are in the car.”
“You can go get them; I’ll keep digging by hand until then,” Illya said, placing the silver duck aside and continuing to dig at the dirt. “After the silver duck, I expect we should find a gold hare next, and then the chest!”
Napoleon gave a nod, but then stopped in his tracks as he noticed something.
“Assuming you’re digging in the right unmarked grave beneath the right oak tree.”
“Why do you say that?”
Napoleon silently indicated the oak trees all around them—and how each one had an unmarked grave looking as old as the one near Illya.
“We’ve got a lot of digging to do, Tovarisch.”
Illya sighed deeply, but nodded in resignation.
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Date: 2016-01-30 09:37 pm (UTC)Ah, indeed. Well, I assume their U.N.C.L.E. status would let them, even if the sanitation dept didn't like it. As for who cooked it up, I hope I can figure that out myself, LOL. I never intended for this to be a multipart thing, heh.