Signed in blood is a ritual offering to the keeper of stories per the terms of our pact. Let all parties be aware these are tales of horror. They may not be suitable for all audiences. Listener discretion is advised. She can still see the look in the little red-haired girl's bright blue eyes right before her body and mind had been hollowed out and taken by Princess Sophie. She still hears the screams. But she can't afford to stop or become distracted. The nightmare scenario that she and her father have spent most of her life running from has arrived at last. She saw them for only a moment before locking eyes with Jason. The pull of his energy had been so intense that it managed to break through the furious haze that had enveloped her. The air around her had practically crackled with the amount of energy that was welling up inside of her. Her vision had sharpened and narrowed as adrenaline flooded her system, heart rate juking as she clenched her jaw. If not for Jason, she would have rained blue hellfire down upon their pursuers and reduced them to ash. She still can. There's still time. From deep within, she can feel the pull of the magic, the heat in her palms, the deep ache in her gut every time she has to suppress her power. The quiet whisper reminding her that she can put an end to all of this right now, and maybe they can have a real Christmas for once. But something in her father's eyes had stopped her cold. She'd never seen him this afraid, and it had shaken her. He'd implored her to run, and in that moment she chose to trust him. She turned on her heel, hunching down as she scrambled quietly up the stairs of the gallery toward the door. The Jamies hadn't made it far enough into the room to where they'd be able to see her yet, but they're steadily advancing and might still be able to hear her if she isn't careful. The townsfolk in the upper gallery hadn't spared her a second glance when the doors below had exploded open, but had scattered like billiard balls after a good break. Strangely, though, there had been no panic or frightened noises as they evacuated. They'd moved with synchronized purpose despite the chaos. Their counterparts below, shocked by the initial explosion, now seemed to have composed themselves, closing ranks around Jason and their princess. Whatever insanity is about to take place, Kat will have to trust that Jason knows what he's doing, even if he adamantly resists letting her in on the plan. She takes hold of the door handle, pushes it gently open, and slips out. She quietly peeks over the railing of the second floor and down the stairway she'd entered from. The townsfolk that had evacuated before her are assembling themselves wordlessly in the antechamber below, looking ready to cut off the sinister Anne Dexter's escape. This means that the exit is also cut off to her, however, so she scans the area for alternatives. The hallway outside the upper gallery that she's standing in extends in both directions, a row of offices on either side with darkened windows. She does a quick assessment, picks a direction, and sprints as quietly as possible. The courthouse and city hall are a conjoined building. Odds are the next stairway will lead to another exit. She turns a corner and stops dead. As suspected, there's another stairway. Placed in front of it, however, is a tasteful golden placard with the name Catherine Argyle embossed in a black cursive script with an arrow pointing down the stairs. Nope, she says after a moment. Nice try. She runs past the sign and down the hall, which splits into a T. Choosing the hallway on the right, she finds another stairway and another sign. This time it reads, What do you have to lose? What do you have to give? She scoffs in reply, before turning around and running down the leftward path. Another sign. This one just says, answers, and is signed, Princess Sophie. The dot over the eye has been replaced by a heart, and below the signature there is an arrow pointing to a door. This time Kat doesn't continue on. She feels herself rooted to the spot as she weighs her options. Why should I trust you? Her words hang in the darkened hallway for a moment. From behind her, she can still hear the slight, far-off murmur of the crowd in the antechamber. Then, slowly, a card slips out from under the door, as if pushed by unseen fingers waiting just on the other side. She approaches it with caution, eyes bouncing between it and the door handle before crouching to pick it up. You're tired of playing someone else's game, it reads. I am too. Let's talk. She stares at the card for another moment before folding and putting it in the pocket of her coat. The princess isn't wrong. She is tired, exhausted from running, of being kept in the dark, of being told again and again how powerful she is, but not having anything to do with that power. Her father doesn't want her involved? He's about twelve years too late. Still, she hesitates. She knows what he'd say, can hear his protests in the back of her mind. But is this all she can hope for? Running, hiding, waiting for her dad to save them? That can't possibly be all there is. She takes a deep breath and reaches out to touch the handle while bracing herself. She swings the door open, hand raised in self-defense. No monster lies in wait for her. She sees only the landing to a stone spiral staircase leading downward, illuminated by the fire of actual torches affixed to the wall. The whole scene would look right at home in a medieval castle, not a small town municipal building. She reaches out to touch the stone. Warm. Almost hot. From below, the sweet, musky scent of incense wafts upward to meet her. Okay, she says. Let's see what you got. She begins the downward climb and the door shuts behind her gently. Once she's out of sight, the door remains for another moment before the surrounding wall swallows it completely, leaving the empty hallway behind her. Jason locks eyes with the man in the suit whose wand is still pointed straight at him. The look of smug satisfaction he sees there is cloying, and he'd give his left hand to be able to snuff it out. From what he can see, the feeling is more than mutual. Eight years, the man says, eight years of chasing your tired ass, wading through bullshit. Eight years extinguishing the corruption you left in your wake, but we finally found you. I missed the birth of my kid for you, you motherfucker. That's too bad, Jason fires back, painfully aware of his racing pulse. His eyes flit to and fro between his pursuers. The way the lady's looking at him, through him, even, is unsettling. I was there for mine. Really changes you. Wouldn't have missed it for anything. The man's eyes widen into a glare as he steps forward, but as he does so, the surrounding crowd takes a step closer in response. The woman in the blue dress places a hand on her companion's shoulder, and slowly he lowers his wand. My name is Ella Rose, she says, addressing the chamber. And this is my partner, Jean Blackwood. We serve as Dexter and Sinister for the Order of King James, and we have come to apprehend the man and child you are harboring. I trust that, per the agreement that this township has with our organization, our business here will not be impeded. You and your partner have intruded upon a very sacred, very private ritual, Miss Rose. Princess Sophie says as she takes a seat on the Lanan throne, resting the cloth doll in her lap. The tall, bearded man in the gray suit takes his place at her right hand. Our treaty is very clear about proper channels. My guests were granted sanctuary. As ruler of this kingdom, I will not go back on my word. Jean scoffs. This kingdom only exists because you all would be too much of a pain in the ass to take care of in one go. But don't go thinking that makes you untouchable. The traitor Jason Argyll is a top priority for our order, and getting in our way will come with consequences. Oh, is that so? Princess Sophie gestures, and the crowd takes another step forward. Before Gene has time to raise his wand, Ella steps in front of him, hands raised slightly. What my partner is trying to say, she continues, a slight edge to her voice, is that our order has recognized your sovereignty over this land, and we have chosen coexistence over conflict. While we do not condone what you do here, you've always kept your own. This man, she points to Jason, is not one of your own. He is ours. He has committed grave offenses against us, used knowledge stolen from us for his own aims, and has ruined the lives of civilians in the process. I'm sure you can understand, Highness, that we will not allow his crimes against us to stand. Sophie smiles, placing a hand on the doll in her lap. You're very pretty, she says, and you speak with respect, something your boy could do with more of. She grants Jean a stray, dismissive glance. I think I like you, Miss Rose, but you don't get to come into my house and take my toys. Jason and his daughter became mine the moment they crossed my border and asked for my help. She raises a hand, and several of the townsfolk retrieve handguns from holsters in their coats, pointing them at the pair in perfect unison. You are also my guests, she says as Ella's hand flies to her locket. So here's what we're going to do. Jason and Catherine Argyle are welcome to stay and play with us as long as they'd like. You too are welcome to stay with us, but we'll be accompanied by a chaperone while you are on my land. If the Argyles leave, you may follow. But if you should attack them while under my protection, I'm afraid I'll have to punish you severely. The handguns all cock at once. At the same time, the walls of the immense chamber begin to contract. Jason's ears start to ring, the air pressure building around them. The townsfolk don't seem to notice, but it's plain to see from their faces that the Jamies are experiencing the same discomfort that he is. And if you're thinking of trying your luck here, she continues, I would think again. You have power, but you're playing in my house. It's been so long since I've had a game that didn't bore me, she says as the tightening of the room increases and Jason's head starts to ache. I might get carried away, she finishes with a sacrine grin. Ella stands tall, doing her best to hide the internal strain of resisting the room's constriction. You leave us no choice but to accept, she says with as much grace as she can manage. In an instant, the pressure of the room releases, its walls returning to their original position. Jason shakes his head slightly, his ears still picking up on the phantom ringing. Sophie clasps her hands together, her smile just as brilliant. Wonderful! Jillian, my darling? Old Mrs. Summers appears from the crowd, clearly over the moon to be of use. Yes, your Highness? Our uninvited guests will be retiring for the evening. Please take a sheriff's deputy and escort them to your inn. See that they're given a warm meal, if you would be so kind. Oh, it would be my pleasure, she beams from behind her spectacles. In an instant, the elderly woman is practically leading the Jamies out of the courtroom by the arm, with a deputy bringing up the rear. As he's being led away, Jean calls over his shoulder. I've spent almost a decade seeing what happens to anyone who welcomes that man in. You're gonna wish you'd handed him over. If she hears him, she gives no sign. With that sorted, Princess Sophie turns to the expectant crowd of townsfolk. My, what an exciting turn! Thank you, my loves, for your patience. I'm afraid I have some things I must attend to and prepare before I join you for our midwinter celebration. Please, everyone adjourn to the banquet hall and begin the festivities. I'll be along as soon as I can. Murmurs of disappointment ripple through the crowd, interspersed with the excited chatter of hungry teenagers. Slowly they begin to file out of the exits. Sophie turns to Jason, gesturing with her eyes toward the judge's chambers. He nods and follows as she leads the way. He can feel the glare of the bearded man as he walks closely behind them. The door to the chamber swings open of its own accord. Princess Sophie practically skips through the doorway, with Jason close behind. As the bearded man enters and begins closing the door behind him, Sophie turns to speak. Thank you, Bert. I'd like a word with the Argonaut in private. Bert frowns. But, Your Highness, are you sure that's a good idea? This man poses no threat to me. She finishes for him. Your concern is sweet, darling, but I'll be okay. Go and take your daughter home. Several emotions wash across Bert's face at once. Hurt, anger, betrayal, grief. He'd left the body of his daughter, who up until a few minutes ago had been the vessel of Princess Sophie, lying beside the Lannin stone seat as he'd come trotting behind his mistress like a loyal dog. Meanwhile, her flesh is growing colder by the minute as she becomes an afterthought. Jason digs the nails of his fingers into his palm as he makes a fist, then does his best to unclench and breathe. He's nowhere close to being out of the woods. Bert looks like he's about to protest again, but a sharp look from the little red-haired girl kills the words in his chest before they can be set free. He leaves, closing the door behind him. Jason glances around the chamber and is surprised to find that it looks like a regular study. There are built-in shelves with hundreds of finely bound books covering the walls, and a large, intricately crafted desk behind which Princess Sophie has now taken a seat. She looks like a little girl who's wandered into a parent's office. Her newly stolen body is dressed much like Kat does. Butterfly clips for her hair with a glittery camisole over a t-shirt and flared jeans. Soon all that will be replaced by Victorian dresses that match the creepy antique doll that never leaves her person. She gestures to the chair in front of the desk, and Jason takes a seat. Directly in front of him, on the desk, there sits an antique snow globe, a miniaturized Ardent Hollow trapped within its glass sphere. Jason stares into it for a moment, studying the fine details of the replica before speaking. Your man doesn't seem too happy I'm here. Bert's a sweetheart, she replies. He's just a little jealous. Now that I'm no longer dwelling in his daughter's body, he's afraid of being replaced. As if that's the worst thing that could possibly happen. Jason nods. You've done quite a number on these people. She lets out a bitter laugh that clashes with her sugary demeanor. I've done what I had to do, Argonaut. No more and no less. I've been a prisoner here for almost 200 years, forced to coddle and enrich my jailers and their descendants the entire time. I'd like to see you do better. He leans back, hands held up like she's drawn a pistol on him. It's just a unique arrangement. Not many demons have found themselves in a situation like this. Well, from what I hear, she replies, when it comes to unique arrangements, I'm not the only one who bit off more than they can chew. She locks eyes with him. Show me. He sighs and pulls back his denim jacket to reveal the dagger resting against his heart. She giggles. Oh my! So it is true. I thought it had to be an exaggeration, someone embellishing your legend. But you went and made a deal with the big bad wolf of hell himself. She gasps theatrically, placing a hand in front of her mouth before leaning in. Does Little Red Riding Hood know? She doesn't need to, because it's never gonna happen. My patron isn't going to get what he wants. She grins, her stolen sapphire eyes fixed on him. And I think the only reason you're willing to say that out loud is because he's not able to hear you. Such a naughty boy. Like you said, Highness, I've done what I had to do. She leans back in her chair, her hand stroking the doll's head. I'm sure you have. Now cut the shit, Jason. Out there you alluded to helping me. Are you all talk or can you do it? Can you send me home free from these ignorant shit kickers? Jason leans in, resting his elbows on the desk. Well, if we're using proper names, Lamashtu, then yes, I believe I can. I know I can. There isn't another pilgrim on the eastward path who knows the language of these bargains like I do. If there's a way out of the deal you made, then I'll find it. It seems to me, she says thoughtfully, that you've already delivered me a way out. With a vessel like Catherine, and the power she can command. The world outside this damned village would be my own personal candy land. That's not going to happen, he says, his voice reflecting cold iron. Oh no, she says. Is that because you can't stand to lose her? Or because she's been promised elsewhere? He feels a flush of anger and struggles to keep his voice steady. You think I'm like your lapdog out there? I think that a man in grief will do whatever it takes to escape that feeling, even if he has to sacrifice what he has left to do it. She gestures to herself. I'm living proof. My daughter is not a bargaining chip, Highness. And as strong as you are, even you don't know the consequences of breaking a deal like this by force. What I'm offering is a chance at freedom that won't risk tearing yourself apart. Right, and you ask nothing in return. I'm just repaying your generosity for the sanctuary you're providing for Kat and I. I don't expect anything for free. She giggles at this, and he feels a wave of ice cascade down his spine. You know, it never fails. Even though you're a player, cunning, experienced, understands enough to know when you're outmatched. You see the doll, the sweet cherub face, and you become like every other mortal and act like you're dealing with a child. I'm thousands of years old, Argonaut. Don't play me like I don't know there's something you're after here. I want my daughter to be able to grow up in one place without having to look over her shoulder. I'd do anything to make that happen. You really would, wouldn't you? No matter how many bodies you leave behind you. The gleam in her eyes is sickening. She must see something in his face because she reaches out almost as if to comfort him. No, it's okay. I understand, I do. It's intoxicating, the feeling of dressing up all the nasty darkness inside of you in an illusion of innocence or nobility. You can cause endless suffering to anyone who's foolish enough to let you in, but it's okay, because no one else could possibly know the real suffering of being a martyr, right? For the first time in a long time, Jason is at a loss. She studies him, waiting for a response, and after a moment seems almost disappointed. Hmm. Nothing to say with that clever mouth? Okay, then, I'll take us home. Your daughter, who you thought you could conceal from me, is currently a guest in my home. You have three days to make good on your offer to free me of this prison. During those three days, you will have free reign of this town and all of my resources. If the townsfolk learn what you're trying to do, they will kill you in order to keep me and the prosperity I provide them, sure as the sun will rise. If, after three days, you fail to deliver, then I will break myself free using your daughter's power, and I'll make you watch as I butcher and eat every last man, woman, and child in this godforsaken dung heap while wearing her face. She holds eye contact with him for an agonizing moment before getting to her feet, doll in hand. She flashes her saccharin at him once more, all signs of ancient malice evaporating as her mask slips back on. It's been so lovely chatting with you, Argonaut. I have another playdate I simply can't miss, so I'll be leaving now. I trust you know the way out. You seem like the type who always does. With that, the wall of the chamber opens up like the jaws of some eldritch beast to reveal a stone passageway. Princess Sophie winks at him, then skips happily into the passage with her doll as the walls close back behind her once more. Without thinking, Jason's hand shoots out and grabs the snow globe off of the desk in front of him, hurling it at the wood-paneled wall that the princess disappeared through. It shatters instantly, shards of glass and miniature buildings flying in all directions. The liquid inside gushes down the side of the paneling to be soaked up by the hungry, waiting carpet below. Jason stares at the stain, unmoving. It's some time before he's able to leave. Return in two weeks, dear travelers, as the deadline to Sophie's challenge looms and the true story of Ardent Hollow comes to light. This episode was written, performed, produced, and mixed by Evan Okuna. Our intro music is by Anna Dagger and Hannah Ekstrom. Outro music is by Backdrop. You can find more at Signedandbloodcast.com. If you liked what you heard, follow and subscribe on your favorite podcast platform. It makes a huge difference for an indie show like this. Want to feed a little energy back into the magic that keeps Signed and Blood alive? Leave a rating or a review. For those who wish to go further, there's a buy me a coffee link in the show notes. Every bit helps. And I'll send you blessings through my Chaos Magic practice during our monthly ritual of thanks. Thank you for listening. Until next time, keep your eyes on the clock, your words carefully chosen, and your intentions signed in blood.