I should know my family by now. Distracted by a delightful day of reading and tea, my evening’s disturbance of something in the walls merely irked me. It did not trip my brain properly; prior to any arrival by my Cousin Silas, things seem to crawl and scramble through one’s walls. It’s a heralding.

No, instead, I sighed and went to bed early, taking a sleeping draught of my own design, trusting that should the visitor be unfriendly, Bubo would take care of it. She always does. Nocturnal vigilance and all that.

This morning I discovered the garden door open and onion peels drifting across the floors like tiny delicate tumbleweeds of an odoriferous nature.

Then I heard the the tell-tale sound of a blade being sharpened and immediately I knew: Cousin Silas had arrived.

It should be an interesting week. Life is never dull with Silas. I do hope he brought his homemade whiskey with him. It helps with the visits.

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