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Chapter Text

The dream was deep, and kind. She was there, beautiful as she'd always been when she was alive. He held her in his arms, and fit there perfectly. Oh, Claire. Oh, Claire. How he'd missed not being alone. How he'd missed having you there.

Unfortunately, he was a light sleeper. It didn't take more than two knocks at the door before reality came filtering back in.

His housekeeper, Rosa, stood in the doorway, waving a letter. 

"Oh, looks like someone was up researching all night…again."

She sighed fondly, opening the letter for him and leaving it on the tabletop, before moving to make some tea.

He never asked her to open his mail, but she did it anyway, knowing it made life easier for him, especially given his current state.

He always called it his "current" state, even though he'd been like this most of his life. Current implied one day he would be free of it.

He put his coat back on, pushing his arms through his sleeves, and pushed his antennae out the way so he could put on his hat. It was a cheap thing, felt and ribbon, but it was all he had left of her, so he was never without it.

He checked over the notes he'd made last night, jumping over to the desk to put them by the ever-growing pile.

Rosa glanced over at his work and shook her head with a smile.

"It's no wonder all the other professors are so intimidated by you." She said, as she got back to pouring tea; one regular sized mug for her, and one dollhouse mug for the professor. 

Layton pushed the letter on the table open, then stood back so he could read it. Large paper with large words; probably from someone who didn't know him that well.

He frowned, and looked over at Rosa.

He knew she was only trying to be kind. Unlike many people, she did respect him, and sometimes respect meant offering encouragement that wasn't entirely true. But it would be quite remiss of him to point that out, so it was better to respond politely.

"Oh," he said, "They just think I'm some young upstart." 

In truth, he was quite sure they all thought he was a joke. That was why he had to work as hard as he did; nobody would take him seriously unless he was four times the scholar everyone else was.

Talking about scholars…

This letter was absolutely bizarre. Apparently it was from Clark, but… Clark knew him. Clark wouldn't type out letters, especially not for him. Even after all this time, Clark never liked typing. And he was always considerate to Layton's problems.

But then here, along the side…

Yes, something was wrong.

Rosa said something, but he wasn't listening at all, too busy considering his options here.

A small town so far away might be a nice change of pace, but people who didn't know him tended to ignore him, or worse. Though, frankly anything would be better than having to justify himself to another hall of students and scholars who had as much respect for him as the average pigeon.

He never asked for life to be this difficult. 

He began folding the letter up until it was small enough to hold under one of his arms.

Rosa put his cup of tea in front of him, startling him from his thoughts. 

He picked it up and had a deep drink. One good thing about this was that he didn't need to eat and drink that much, which was convenient for his lifestyle.

After he finished his drink, he looked up at Rosa.

"Thank you, Rosa." He said, before moving to the edge of the table, where they'd placed some books for him to use as impromptu steps. "I'll be going out now. It seems I have business in Misthallery." 

"Oh?" She seemed concerned. It was understandable, though layton disliked that the act of leaving the house was a concern for her. "Will you be-"

"Yes, I'll be fine. I think the university has gotten me a new driver." If they hadn't, he'd just take the bus. Though, that would take longer than he'd like…

"Of course, Professor. You take care now!"

He tipped his hat to her, then walked off towards the small flap built in the door. 

It wasn't too long a walk to the university where his car was parked. For legal reasons cars could not be too small, also, no manufacturers made them, so he had to make do with a regular sized one with slight retrofittings for him to move about easier in. Unfortunately, this meant someone else had to drive the thing. A gentleman never complained, but since his last driver quit, he had been rather marooned here. They did say they'd get someone else in…

When he got to his car, he had to jump out of the way as a bright yellow scooter parked dangerously close to him.

"Good heavens!" He said, climbing up the door of his car so he could see his would be killer a bit better. "What on earth was that for?" 

"Oh! I'm sorry Professor! Didn't mean to get that close!" Said the person, woman, as she got off her bike and took off her helmet, immediately offering him a hand to shake.

"Can I help you?" He asked, cautiously shaking her finger with his hands. She laughed.

"You don't remember? Oh! Well, I'm Emmy Altava, your new driver! Call me Emmy!" She beamed at him. His shoulder slumped in relief. What wonderful, if shocking, timing.

"...I see." He nodded. "Ms.Altava, when…" 

"Emmy, please!" She cut him off. Was cutting in perhaps a hobby of hers? "The dean hired me himself; apparently you've been too busy to attend your meetings, sending your last driver on all sorts of trips. He thought having a more assertive one might help!" 

He was surprised anyone noticed he wasn't at his meetings. Nobody usually noticed when he was there, why would it matter if he wasn't?

"Right, I see." He moved off the door handle, scrabbling up to sit on the roof of the car. Being so small made climbing easier, but he wished he didn't have to. "Well, I do actually have somewhere to be, so if you wouldn't mind, miss….?"

"Oh! Getting right to it! How Laytonesque!" Emmy's smile hadn't faded a bit, and she immediately put her scooter on the bike rack and opened the car door. "You know, I can't wait to get started! I've wanted to work with you since-"

"Gah!" Layton wasn't able to keep up with what she was saying, mainly because she'd just GRABBED him like a stuffed toy. 

As a gentleman, it would be unseemly to panic, so he tried to stop himself from flailing about and trying to fight her off, and just stayed very still.

"Miss Altava! If you'd please!" He protested, antennae thrashing about until she put him down, thankfully quickly, upon the dashboard.

"Right!" She'd strapped herself into the driver's seat already, putting the key in the engine and letting the car thrum to life. "Where are we going? What perplexing mystery are we hot on the trail of now?"

Layton brushed himself down, sitting his hat back properly on his head and moving to the passenger side window, where a little handle had been installed. It wasn't as if there were seatbelts for people his size, so hanging on was really all he could do, and he did like to look out the window.

She was polite enough to let him get settled before starting to reverse out of the parking lot and get driving.

"Why exactly do you assume it's a mystery?" He asked, watching her carefully. She was driving a little faster than he'd like.

"Well, it must have been important if you came all the way out here without knowing if you had a driver!" 

Ah, she had a point.

"Next left here, please." He said, pointing with one of his free arms. "You have good intuition. I daresay it will serve you well working with me."

"Oh, I've heard! You're a magnet for trouble!" Why did she say that so approvingly…?

"Er, well, yes. Anyhow." He was going to hold out the letter to her to read, but it would be irresponsible to divert her attention from the road, so chose to explain instead. "About an hour ago, I received a letter supposedly from an old friend of mine, Clark Triton. He asked for my help dealing with a curious problem; a fog-shrouded giant has been damaging the town he lives in." 

"Oh? That sounds… bizarre." It was a politer way to say "absurd", which was thoughtful of her. "How well do you know this man?"

"Oh, Clark and I go back quite far. I can't think he would choose to fabricate such a story. However, I'm not entirely sure it is a letter he wrote. It's not his style to type a message, and there was a crudely coded "SOS" message hidden inside it."

"Well! Isn't that something!" Emmy was, to her credit, keeping her eyes on the road as she spoke. "Why would anyone hide a code in a message like that?"

"I don't know." It was an intriguing puzzle. "It's bizarre, but a gentleman never refuses a call for help." 

"How mysterious! How Laytonesque!" Emmy said. "Where are we going, then?" 

"A town called Misthallery, if you know where that is…" Layton clung tightly to the handle as she swerved around a corner quite fast. "Emmy, you've said that word, "laytonesque", twice now. What on earth do you mean by that? Do you… how much do you know about me?"

His life was quite bizarre, but it was rare anyone ever took note of that. After all, people barely believed the wonders the Azran used to make, why would they believe stories about him? People didn't just turn into insects. At least, outside of novels.

Emmy, however, took the subject of his existence with pride, almost even delight. "I know everything about you! I could recite every published paper you've ever written! Every police report you ever helped them with!"

"That's…" Was it even legal for her to have that police information?

Well, that… probably wasn't an issue for right now...

He wasn't sure how to respond to the idea someone looked so far into his life.

"You… certainly have read up, haven't you?"

"Well of course!" She took another corner quite fast, and then they were thankfully onto a straight road. "I asked specially for this job, you know! I want to make sure I do it right!"

How bizarre. She wanted this job, but not to take it easy, but to do it with full intent. That was… unexpected. Was she some sort of... fan? Had she been at his lectures? He wasn't sure he'd ever had a fan before.

"I see. Well, I must warn you, this job is not for the faint of heart. There tends to be trouble on my path." It would be unfortunate to have someone so bright eyed and bushy tailed face danger without being fully aware it would occur. He'd seen his fill of that already.

"I know!" It seemed nothing could faze her. A slightly worrying quality, and certainly one he didn't want to… encourage. But… well. She was driving the car. "Speaking of which, wasn't Misthallery that town in the papers?"

"Oh, the recent archaeological discoveries, yes…" he'd love to talk about it, but it was a little difficult to concentrate with this… hazardous driving. He did hope they didn't get any speeding tickets.

Eventually the scenery began to dissappear into haze, starting first as a thin film, a dusting over the hills and soon turning more and more opaque, like the world was being erased away into nothing. 

Soon enough a town blurred into view from amongst the mist, teracotta roofs and winding streets.

"Ah, the famous Misthallery fog!" Emmy, still full of cheer, kept driving until the ground ahead turned into a bridge, at which point she stopped quite suddenly, and reversed to park. 

It was a good thing Layton was holding tight to the handle, or he probably would have gone tumbling forwards into the windscreen there.

"Ooh, your car has really reactive brakes, doesn't it, professor?" She had the gall to say, while he regained his senses.

He could only wonder if her scooter had any brakes at all, before he was once again snatched up by her.

"Miss Altava-!" If this was going to be their working relationship he was definitely going to be filing a complaint. It was quite terrifying to be randomly hauled to places unknown so very far off the floor with no control over where you were going. 

He had very little time to complain, though, as she pulled him out the car and put him on her shoulder.

"Well if you're on the floor, you might get stepped on!" She protested, as he wobbled slightly, trying to get a balance on her shoulders without having to touch her hair, which would be quite rude. "Now where are we going?" 

"Ah- hm-" She wouldn't mind if he held onto her lapel, would she? It was less dangerous up here than on the ground, but certainly harder to stay stable. "Well, the-"

"Oh, look at this river!" 

"Well, yes, Misthallery was built over several canals-" Emmy began moving, and Layton was cut off mid sentence, too busy struggling to stay balanced. Maybe he'd better sit rather than stand…

"Hey!" Someone called out, which made Emmy turn around, which meant Layton had to hold on tight again.

"Huh?" Said Emmy.

It was unusual for Layton to have to look down to see someone, but there was a young boy on the street pointing directly at him.

"What's that?" He said. Which was frankly quite rude, but it wasn't as if it was an unusual response to his existence.

"How rude!" Emmy said. "This is Professor Layton! He's one of the greatest archaeologists there is!" 

Not great enough to fix anything. Or make up for what it lost him. Though it was quite kind of her to defend him like that.

"Yes, ah, quite…" Children were more likely to keep an open mind to this sort of thing, at least. He cleared his throat politely. "Young man, do you know where the Triton residence is?"

"Oh." Speaking seemed to have convinced him a little. "It's across the rope bridge left of the crossroads." He turned to point the direction. "North Ely, where I'm from, got evacuated, cause of the oracle. But that way's still fine though." 

Hm. That was interesting information.

"Pardon me," Layton inquired. "The oracle?" 

"Yeah. They've saved a lotta people." The boy nodded. How helpful.

"....from the giant?" Asked Emmy.

"Yeah." 

"Are they a person?" This seemed a useful question to ask. 

The boy shrugged. "I dunno."

So whatever, or whoever the "oracle" was, its orders were publicly known but not its face or identity.

Interesting.

"Right. We'd better be off." Layton tipped his hat politely to the boy. "Thank you, young man." 

"Off we go!" And with that, Emmy was off, Layton clinging desperately to her lapel as they went. 

As she ran, he saw signs of destruction all about. This was deeply concerning. The people here were very cheerful, for having such danger on their doorsteps. Perhaps they'd find out why soon.

After a somewhat worrying journey over a river, they began to move towards a larger house. 

"Do you think this is the one, Professor?"

"Well, we were told to go this way, so we can only hope."

It was a very nice house, with a garage, a little stream, white walls and quaint windows. It seemed Clark had embraced country life.

"You wouldn't mind…?"

"Of course!" Emmy knocked on the door and waited, patiently, until a small man opened the door.

He stared at the both of them, absolutely baffled. "...hello?"

"Hello." The professor tipped his hat. "My name is Hershel Layton. We, er, I'm…"

"Mr. Triton is expecting us." Emmy said.

There was a long period of silence as the butler assessed them, before turning away. "....I'll… inform the master you're here, then…" He mumbled.

"What was his problem?" Asked Emmy, louder than the professor would like.

"Well, two strangers, one of which is a small insect, just showed up at his door…"

"Well, I suppose. But there's no need to be so skeptical about it." 

"A-hem." The man, who Layton was assuming was the butler, spoke up again. "The Master has agreed to see you. In the study."

"Great!" Emmy followed him through, and they didn't have to wait long before Clark arrived. 

He, for one, seemed happy to see the professor, smiling and offering him a finger to shake.

"My dear Hershel, how long has it been?" He sounded genuinely delighted.

"Too long, old friend." It really was nice to be around people that were happy to see him. "Oh, this is Emmy Altava, She's-"

"I'm the professor's assistant! And driver." Once again he was interrupted, but he didn't really mind this time. She offered Clark her own hand to shake. 

"Oh, I see!" He shook her hand with good humour. "It looks like we've both done well, then!"

"Oh, hardly." He really couldn't call his position good. Clark, on the other hand, was clearly doing well for himself. A big house, a butler, a nice car... good for him.

"Oh, no need to be modest!" Clark waved a hand dismissively. "You know, Ms.Altava, I was once studying to be an archeologist like him. Our lives have… certainly been odd, but now here I am, the mayor of this little place, and here he is, still writing such impressive work!"

"Oh, but nobody would listen to my speeches. You've done a fine thing here!" Layton smiled politely.

"Oh, yes, it's a fine thing, but a fine mess too." Clark's smile turned bitter for a moment, and he looked to the door. Trouble in paradise, perhaps?

"Anyhow, why are you here?"

"Ah, yes." Finally given an opportunity to brandish it, Layton took the folded up letter from where it was tucked under one of his smaller pairs of arms and held it out to him.

Clark took the letter and unfolded it, silently mouthing the words as he read it. 

"No, I didn't write this at all."

"Well, someone did…" Layton took it back from him.

"And the hidden message for help?" Asked Emmy. 

"I've no idea about that." Said Clark. 

"Maybe it's a joke?" She offered. She seemed quite optimistic.

"I doubt it." Clark sighed. "Everything that letter says is quite true. We are indeed under attack by a giant. It comes at night, when the fog is thick, and tears into the city..."

Interesting. "Really?" 

"Yes indeed. The people of the town, they think the spectre of legend has returned with a vengeance." Clark sat down on the couch, and before anyone could ask, started to explain the tale.

It's the kind of thing that, were it anyone else, perhaps they would doubt. But Layton had seen enough of the world to know things like that were real.

Giant monsters? Very possible.

"I'm supposed to be protecting my town." Clark groaned, running his hands through his hair. "I'm the mayor, and these people are- I can't-"

"Excuse me. Sir." It quite startled Layton when the butler spoke up again. He'd quite forgotten he was in the room. "Haven't you mentioned Professor Layton before? You said he's worked with the police before, on very difficult cases. Hadn't he helped solve them all? Perhaps, if he is the real Layton, we could ask for his assistance here?"

Clark's shoulders slumped further than Layton would have liked to that question. Was this the weight of responsibility, or was there more going on here? What was going on in this place?

"I suppose we'll just have to, won't we? There's no choice in it…" Clark looked over at Layton. There was something harrowed in his look. Layton wondered how many people in this town had been hurt by this spectre.

"Hershel, will you…"

"Of course I will." Layton stood as tall as he could, which wasn't very. "I would never refuse a friend in need. I'll do everything I can for you and this town."

"Thank you, Hershel. I'm eternally in your debt." Said Clark. Despite this, he didn't look at all relieved.

"...Oh, that reminds me." Layton sat back down on Emmy's shoulder. "I haven't even asked about Brenda, or your son, Luke. How are they?" 

He'd met Brenda, but Clark had only spoken about his son in letters. He never said much about the boy, really. 

Clark tensed up somewhat, which was the opposite of what Layton had hoped inquiring into his family life might do. "My wife is fine. She's. Away. Family matters. Luke's… in his room. Again. He doesn't… really leave it much." 

Ah.

Family problems.

It seemed Clark really had the run of bad luck here. Stress at home and stress at work. He felt somewhat guilty for not checking in with him sooner. Maybe he could have found a reason to visit him before all this. It wasn't as if he was busy at the university…

"I would like to say hello to Luke, if I can." He said, tugging at the brim of his hat. "After all, it seems remiss to come all this way and not meet your son."

"Ah. Yes. He might enjoy that." Clark seemed to cheer up for a moment, then his expression became worried again. "Though, I should warn you, he's… well, I know you wouldn't object, but… well, he's…" 

"Oh, is he at That Age?" Asked Emmy.

"No, he's…" Clark sighs. "Nevermind. You'll understand when you talk to him. If you talk to him."

Well, that was… worrying. 

"Right, let's go off and see him!" Emmy, ever industrious, headed off. Layton was starting to wonder if she'd need to get a loop sewn into her shoulderpad just to make sure he didn't fall off. He'd certainly need it at the speed she moved. 

Going up stairs was certainly a bit terrifying, but much faster than climbing them himself. Not a day went by where he didn't miss being able to take such things in his stride.

Luke's room was set at the end of a hallway, door tightly shut. It was oddly cold at this end of the house, like the central heating had ceased to function, but that wasn't very like Clark. 

"Hello, Luke?" Layton called out, trying to use as soft a voice as he could. He'd never met the boy, and didn't know exactly how he'd react to strangers, so the softest approach was the best one to take. "I'm Professor Layton. I'm a friend of your father's. Could I… could we possibly come in?" 

There was loud shuffling behind the door, before a somewhat nasally voice answered.

"Only if you can solve my door puzzle."

Oh, he had a door puzzle! 

Well that was just charmingly endearing, wasn't it? What a clever young boy, making a little puzzle for guests…

"Ah, I see," Layton couldn't keep from smiling, thinking about how sweet that was. He probably set it up all by himself too... oh, his father must be so proud. "We will solve your puzzle."

"That's so cute…" Emmy seemed to be thinking the same. Luckily, Luke couldn't hear her.

"If you're really the Professor Layton my father talks about, you'll be able to solve this easily. You can look around the door as long as you like, but afterwards you'll only have fifteen seconds to do something. And if it's the right thing, I'll let you in."

"Should we let you know when we're ready, then?" Asked Emmy.

"Yeah." Said Luke. "But let me warn you, you can't do anything to solve this puzzle!"

Hm. What an interesting brag. Or was that perhaps a clue…?

Layton looked around. There was a stuffed bear on a little coffee table, a picture on the wall, a tray with what he could only assume was the boy's lunch on it, and a doormat. 

Nothing immediately stood out as important. 

Emmy went to knock on the door again, then paused.

"Hey, Luke? Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did." He replied, and Layton was fairly sure he heard a giggle. 

"Heh. Yes, well, if the door's shut, how can you tell if we're doing the right thing?" 

That was a reasonable question, hopefully with an equally reasonable answer.

"I'll know what you're doing. I don't need to be able to see you to tell if you're doing it."

Hm. 

"Well," muttered Layton, "If he doesn't need to see us, it can't be visual. Perhaps he's listening for something…"

What would he hear… movement? Words? He'd said they couldn't do anything to solve it. If he simplified that sentence by removing the negatives, it became "you can do nothing to solve it." Either meaning he thought this puzzle was unsolvable, or, to a more simple route, that they would solve the puzzle if they were to do nothing for the fifteen seconds. 

If he was listening for movement, he would be able to tell if they were standing still, which would mean he could, in fact, tell if they were doing anything, which would not be nothing.

"Ah, I think I understand." He nodded. "Luke, we're ready to try your puzzle."

"Okay." Said Luke. "I'll start counting." 

Emmy looked at the professor and raised an eyebrow. He shook his head. Just wait.

Fifteen seconds passed by. 

"What are…"

"He said nothing we could do would solve the problem, therefore he wants us to do nothing." Layton explained. "As we have. Luke, can you open the door?"

"You did it." Luke agreed. "I'll unlock the door now. Close it behind you."

Layton could hear him shuffling about in there, and the clicking of the lock.

"Right!" Now that that was done, Emmy tried turning the handle. Unlocked, wonderful. She pushed it open and went in, closing it behind her.

It was dark in here. Dark and quite cold. The curtains were shut, allowing just the slightest amount of light through them to coat the room in a dusky glow. Layton had no problem with the dark, but the cold was a little unwelcome. 

"That was a clever puzzle, Luke." He said, looking around. He couldn't see a boy at Emmy's shoulder height… maybe Luke was shorter than he'd thought? He had to-

"Oh!" Said Emmy. "Hello! Are you… Luke?" 

Layton turned to see where Emmy was looking. 

Ah.

Over near the bookcase, there was what he had assumed was another stuffed toy at first glance, but now saw it was looking at him intensely.

A large blueish penguin stood there, with big black eyes and a little bow tie around his neck. He had a blue newsboy cap on his head, and a little jacket with buttons that didn't look like they would actually close. 

The penguin opened its beak, and spoke with a voice that matched that of the one behind the door, making this, indeed, Luke.

"....You're really small."

For a quiet moment, Layton wondered if Clark's son had met the same fate as him. If his father's interest in the Azran had ruined his poor life too. Perhaps that was why he didn't delve much deeper into the past.

But he collected himself. No. Now wasn't the time for that. He was trying to help the boy, after all. 

"I… believe this is your letter, yes?" Layton held the paper out. Emmy helpfully took it from him and offered it out to the boy. Bird. Boy. 

Luke took it between his two flippers without a word.

"Professor, do you really think he wrote it?" Emmy asked. It probably was a surprise to her.

"Well, as I said earlier, Clark really was more a fan of longhand," unlike Luke, who by the looks of it probably didn't have much choice but to use a typewriter, "And Clark… probably wouldn't tell people he wasn't close to about our past. It's unlikely anyone who didn't know him well would know I would always be willing to come and help him if he asked."

Luke looked up at him. 

"Are you really… the professor? My father-"

Speaking of his father, Clark pushed open the door. Had he been eavesdropping?

"Luke? Is this true?" Far from relieved, the man seemed outraged at Luke. "How could you do something like this?! What were you thinking?!"

That seemed an absurdly strong response for what the boy had done. He scowled as best a bird could, turning his back to his father. This only served to agitate Clark more.

"Clark," Layton tried to speak softly. "Please. He's only a boy."

Clark sighed once more, tensing his knuckles.

"I'm sorry, I…. He's hardly spoken to me since the spectre came, it's been six months now, and-"

Luke wasn't listening to a word his father said, too busy staring out the window, like he could see something there nobody else could. "Soon." He mumbled. "The world is going to end soon. And it won't matter."

Oh. Well that was concerning.

Had Luke seen something he shouldn't have in those ruins too? The Azran left as many nightmares as they did dreams, especially where lost children were concerned. His own memories of those times drew a dark cloud over his thoughts often enough.

He took a moment to find the gentlest voice he could.

"What do you mean by that, Luke?"

The bird huffed, his feathers ruffling up, making him look even more like a stuffed toy. 

"I mean what I just said!"

Emmy for once was the odd one out here, entirely lost by the twists this situation had taken. She had expected the professor's condition. She had not expected a family crisis involving an apocalyptic talking penguin and a marriage breakdown.

"Can you please elaborate?" She begged.

"Oh, don't even bother." Clark snapped. "He won't tell anyone what the problem is. He never used to be like this, but you can't get a word edgeways from him now. The only time he opens his mouth these days is to say some morbid future or inscrutable prophecy! I… Oh, it's all my fault anyway, I should never have…" 

And suddenly he rushed out, muttering to himself.

Layton wondered why Clark never told him things had gotten so bad. Why wouldn't he have asked for help sooner? Why-

As if from nowhere, that butler appeared, right where Clark had been. How did he keep doing that? "I am afraid," He said, "that it is time for Master Luke to retire." 

"What?" Emmy still seemingly only had questions. Layton absolutely could not blame her for that. It was pretty reasonable, all things considered. "But it's the middle of the day! We still haven't-"

"Nevertheless." Doland said firmly. "He is retiring." 

Very forceful butler.

"....May I ask just one more question?" Layton asked politely, though immediately started to ask his question before he could be told no. It was quite important, and this way he could ask without seeming impolite. "The townspeople we met mentioned an Oracle, who had been distributing information to keep the people safe from the giant. Would I be remiss in assuming that would be you also?"

"Huh?" Said Emmy.

"Absurd!" Said Doland. 

"If it is you," he continued, "Do you know when it will next attack? Please. It's deeply important."

Doland spluttered with outrage. "Master Luke will not take such baseless accusations. You must-"

"Tonight." 

The boy was still staring out the window.

"It's going to appear again tonight. I even know where."

That could, if it was someone else, have been a brag. A proud flaunting of hidden knowledge, of intelligence beyond that of others. But in the poor boy's voice it just sounded sad and guilt-ridden. Like he knew he couldn't stop it. 

"...I see." Layton nodded. Such a weight to bear on such small and already burdened shoulders. "Could you possibly show me where?"

Luke thought about that for a moment, weighing up options.

"...Alright."

"Master Luke!" Doland continued to object. "You simply can't-"

"I have to." The boy's resolve was steeled. For all his father had said about being careless, he clearly did care, quite a lot. "Please don't tell my father."

Doland, accepting defeat, sighed. "But… do you really…"

Luke cut him off. "Are the people warned?"

"....they are." Doland stepped back towards the door. "I'll make a final tour to make sure that everyone leaves…." 

"Wait, where is the spectre going to appear?" Emmy decided to cut straight to the chase, avoiding any more confusing input.

"Great Ely Street, North Ely District." Said Luke, turning back to face her, before waddling over to the desk to pick up a satchel bag. 

"Ah." That area was being evacuated, wasn't it? The child had said as much. "We must make haste then. If nothing else, we can confirm your prediction." 

"Well," muttered Dolan, "Good luck with that."

Layton and Emmy moved to leave Luke's room. Luke hesitated for a moment before following them. 

The stairs, once again, were a bit of a nightmare, but Layton was more used to it now. It didn't look that easy for Luke though, either.

Clark must not have thought about that when he was getting this house made. Not that Layton could blame him for that. Nobody expected this to happen to them.

It was a lot warmer outside, and brighter. Luke stopped in the doorway, taking time to adjust to the sun above and the warm air around. 

"I don't remember the last time I left the house." He said quietly.

"Well, it's very brave of you." Emmy said, patting him on the head.

"Hmph." Luke sulked. "Anyway. The fastest way is… the intersection past the boat landing, then straight north." 

Layton wondered how he knew the town so well if he never left his room. Did he have friends? Assistants? 

Another clue to file away to later.

"Didn't the police block that way?" Said Emmy, as she started to walk. Oh, he had to hold on.

"Yes, they're helping evacuate." Luke sighed. "I couldn't exactly do it myself. I have no idea how Doland got them to help, though…"

"That house back in town that got destroyed.. did the spectre do that?" 

"Brock's house. Yes." Luke had to waddle quite fast to keep up with her. Layton tugged on Emmy's lapel a bit to point it out to her, at which point she slowed down so he could catch up. It would do no good leaving him behind, poor boy. He might be taller than layton, but he probably couldn't move much faster. "He wasn't hurt. Nobody's been seriously hurt… yet. But I do worry."

"You're doing your best, Luke." He reassured. "I'd really like to examine the other damaged areas of the town, if there are any. Could we take a route that follows the damage?" The most efficient path would mean the least amount of time trying not to fall off Emmy's shoulder.

Luke nodded and started to waddle off, and Emmy followed along slowly. It was no good overtaking your guide, after all. 

"Hoy!"

A voice startled Luke, which in turn startled Emmy, and thus Layton.

"What's that there?" 

The source of the voice was a man sat by the boats, squinting up at them. 

"Oh, hello." Luke gave him a slightly nervous wave. "I'm the mayor's son, I'm just…"

"He's helping us investigate the spectre!" Emmy supplied.

"Oh, that so?" The man scratched his head. "Well, maybe I do need to get those glasses… either way, good to see you out an' about, kiddo! Boys need to get out and play, it's no good you staying at home all day!" He turned back to his boat, rummaging around and pulling out a box. "Why don't you take this outside to play with, eh? You'll have good fun with it!" 

Luke took the box, and put it in his satchel. He was quite dextrous for a penguin. "Oh, thank you, Bucky…"

"You take care now, kid!" 

They went back to walking.

"How do you know his name? And what did he give you?" Emmy peered at his bag.

"I have my ways." He sounded almost defensive. "And I'm not sure. I think it's a… toy train?"

"Aww!" She laughed. "Are you still young enough for toy trains?"

"Hey! I'm three years old!" He protested.

That stopped both of them in their tracks.

"....three…?" Emmy looked between him and Layton. Layton, for what it was worth, had absolutely no idea how to respond to that.

"That's very old for a penguin! In a few years I'll be an adult!"

That just raised more questions.

"So, you're an actual…" Layton started to say, but he was cut off by Emmy.

"So you're too old for toy trains? Do you want me to take it?"

"No!" Luke pouted, and patted his bag. "No. I'm not too old for trains."

Emmy chuckled. "Alright then." 

Luke started walking again. They made their way back into the main town, trying to ignore the looks they were getting from the few people out on the streets. For Layton, this was something he was painfully, unfortunately used to. For Luke, this was new, and odd, and unusual. For Emmy, well, it didn't matter. She wasn't one to let people's opinions get her down.

"Here's the latest damage." Luke said, as they got to Brock's house. The boy who used to live there was sat on a crate, laughing his head off. He hadn't even noticed the penguin. Perhaps his life was mad enough already.

"I'd… just leave Brook be." Mumbled Luke.

Emmy peered over the wreckage, taking out a camera and snapping pictures. The flash was a little bright on the eyes, so Layton just hid under her lapel and closed his eyes until she was done. 

"The only other house i can think of is east of the crossroads. It's still being repaired. Should we go that way?" Luke checked for a response.

Emmy gave a thumbs up, so they started their slow meander in that direction. While they weren't moving fast, it was still much more ground covered than Layton could on his own. Small legs made small strides. 

"Some of the houses up here, have been damaged, but, we've been repairing them. It doesn't attack constantly…" Luke said as they walked pointing up to the houses with his beak. "There's others by the canal, but I think they've been repaired by now…"

Layton looked up at the damaged buildings, antennae twitching as he pondered the giant gashes in the walls, and what force it would take to make them.

"Has there been any connection between the buildings that have been damaged?" He asked. Emmy noticed the antennae wiggling out the corner of her eyes. 

"Hmm? Had an interesting thought?" She asked.

"No, nothing forming yet." He replied.

"Nothing?" 

"We need more information. Luke, is there anywhere…?"

"No." He shook his head. "I don't think so, and I don't think there were any connections, either…"

"Well, we'd better go to North Ely, then." Layton replied. 

"Well, that's up through there…. Oh. There's one of my mother's friends." Luke pointed out an old man in spectacles. "Thomas, I think." 

"Well, why don't you go and talk to him?" Emmy suggested. 

Luke nodded, apparently having needed a little bravery to do so. "...Hi, Thomas." He mumbled.

Thomas nearly dropped his drink, barely believing his eyes. "Oh, goodness! You... uh.. Have we, uh, met…?"

Luke visibly cringed, pulling his head back straight flush to his body. "Uh, I'm Luke. Luke Triton." His voice lowered slightly. "The... mayor's son?"

"Oh! I… see." The man frowned, checked his glasses, then frowned again. "And… where is your father?"

"Oh, he's at home. Like always…" Luke sighed.

"Oh." The man seemed to have accepted the situation, or at least decided to be polite about it. "Do you know if your mother was angry at me? Normally she asks for my help discussing plans when she goes, but she left months ago, and nary a word to me…"

Was it possible for penguins to look uncomfortable? Layton had no experience with the range of penguin emotions but the look on his face didn't seem at ease. Thomas didn't notice, and kept talking, digging the hole deeper.

"You know, she had to have had some reason to avoid me, and why wouldn't she invite your father? She never liked going alone, especially for so long. Really, unless they were fighting with each oth-"

Yes, this was absolutely uncomfortable for the boy, and really not the sort of thing he needed to hear right now.

"Yes. Well, we REALLY need to be going now-" Layton pushed at Emmy's lapel, and very much taking the hint she took Luke's flipper and lead him away. 

"Let's go to North Ely, then!" 

Of all the times to have a family crisis…

They hurried off at the best speed they could manage. 

"Oh look! A library!" Emmy said, pointing out something that might distract Luke from the distressing matter of a fractured home.

"Oh!" Said luke. It was a big, but quaint building, covered in moss and grass. "I've never been in there. It's not so bad out here, though."

"Well, maybe once we've sorted out this mess, we can go have a look." Layton offered. He wished people made books that were easier for him to read. Turning pages was exhausting, they were surprisingly heavy at his size.

"Oh, really?" Luke seemed to brighten up a little, before his mood sobered again. "Though, it might not be left standing by then…." 

They kept moving, and were unfortunately faced with a hill. Layton may not know too much about penguins, but he was quite sure they didn't generally go uphill very well. They were more inclined to declines. 

"Oh." Luke stared up at it. "He didn't say it was this steep…." 

"Hmm?" Emmy, industrious as always, looked at Luke and looked at the hill. "Oh! Don't you worry!" 

Much like him, Luke wasn't given much warning as he was also hefted up by Emmy, put under her arm and carried very quickly up the hill. She put him back down once she got to the top and took a deep breath, trying her best not to show the exhaustion of running a fairly large penguin all the way up a winding hill. 

"Ta-da!" 

Layton, who had to cling onto her lapel for dear life as she ran, barely had time to process it was over before they were walking off again. 

"Emmy… a little warning next time…" 

"This… is North Ely." Luke said, adjusting his hat and de-ruffling his feathers. 

"Great! Thanks, Luke. You're good at tour-guiding, huh?" Emmy said playfully. "Almost as good as you are at secret messages!" 

"Secret…?"

"Oh, the professor said you put a secret message in that letter you sent, right?"

"...Oh." 

"Yes, why did you do that?" 

"He wanted help." Layton replied. "And sometimes it's easier to ask people outside your circle than people who you're close to. Especially if the problem is… well." 

It seemed the poor boy had a lot on his plate. And the way his father was acting, perhaps seeking outside help was all he could do.

"Anyway." Luke started wandering off, not wanting to dwell on it. "There's a hotel down here, I think, and…"

"Does it have a good view of the street?" Layton asked. "We'll need somewhere to stay for the night that does." 

"I… don't know." Luke responded, though the answer was easily found by continuing on their path.

The hotel was a large building sat on the corner of the road, two sides stretched like arms along the edges. It felt.. protective. Homely. 

There was something about this whole town that felt homely. Like it was only ever made to keep people safe.

Such a shame it couldn't. 

They entered, and were met, surprisingly, by a man with a long face and sharp, pointed beard behind the counter, staring at them all with his mouth wide open.

"What in hell's name….?"

"Hey!" Luke slapped a foot on the ground in annoyance. Perhaps it was meant to be intimidating, but it really just came off as endearing. "People are meant to be evacuating this area! You can't be here!"

"Evacu… what?" He blinked, trying to make sense of what was going on, before shaking his head and relying on his greatest strength, good old stubbornness, to see him through.

"Hey! Now I don't care who, or what, is tellin' me to leave my inn, but I have no intention of leavin'! Either I'll have guests or I won't!" 

"But the spectre is coming!" Slap slap slap. Luke kept whapping his flat feet on the wooden floor. "You'll be in danger!" 

"And what, I won't be if he tears down my place?" The man shook his head, reaching for a bottle behind the bar. "I can't afford to rebuild! Now did you… whatever you are's want a room or not!?"

"...We would, actually." Layton tipped his hat politely, though whether the man would even notice that was questionable. "Do you have one with a good view of the street?' 

He thought about that for a moment, then relented with a "hrmph". 

"I got a… room 302. Right up the stairs. Fair price, too."

Money wasn't something Layton could usually carry. Maybe it was best to leave paying for things to Emmy. It did feel rude, though.

He made the mental note to reimburse her once this was all over.

Emmy picked up the key and moved towards the stairs.

"Luke?" She asked. "Will you be alright with these?"

"I'm fine." Said the boy as he started pushing himself slowly up each step. It seemed the owner's  stubbornness had rubbed off on him. Or perhaps he was always stubborn. 

Once they were all at the top of the stairs, Emmy waited for a moment to let Luke catch his breath, while Layton scanned the hallway to look for the right room. 

"There it is." He pointed to the little sign marked "302". 

Emmy nodded and opened the door, so they could all get inside. It opened out into a surprisingly large space, white walls and wooden beams with tasteful duck-egg curtains and rugs, and cream coloured furnishings. The beds were large, with soft feather pillows, the floors were rich stained wood, and, being set right on the edge of the building's arm, there was a good view of the street. 

It was a wonderful room... If only it was at all traversable for an insect without great effort. Layton was quite sure he'd have to spend even more time on someone's shoulders just to see out the window.

Emmy looked over the room's window arrangement and beamed. 

"Perfect! Look at this! We'll have front row seats!" 

Perhaps she was a little too excited about this whole ordeal. 

"The spectre comes with thick fog, Emmy." Layton warned, trying to temper her enthusiasm. "Our view may not be so good."

"And there's still time before the sun sets." Luke also seemed to be taking this quite seriously. Despite that, he was climbing onto a bed to test how bouncy it was. He may have a lot of responsibilities upon him, but he was still a child.

"Yes. Well." Layton tried to hide the fond smile on his face. "When you're done there, you wouldn't mind giving us a tour of the rest of North Ely, would you?"

Link gawped at him. "Here? Now? There's serious business afoot!"

"Yes, I know that." He tried to keep his voice as calm as possible. He didn't want to upset the poor boy. "But I'd like to have a good lay of the land here. If the spectre is as dangerous as it seems, we may need to escape. And what, with all that fog, a general sense of direction just may not be enough."

"Especially at my size", he refrains from adding. It was hard enough navigating on a clear day when he didn't have something to climb, and he couldn't rely on Emmy for everything. 

"Oh, yes." Luke rubbed his head feathers with his flipper. Had he copied that mannerism from Clark? "Then we'd better be going before the light is gone." 

"Oh, scouting! That'll be exciting!" Almost the pure opposite of Luke's caution, Emmy was vibrantly optimistic about the whole affair. This only served to annoy the boy again.

"Exciting?" He honked, and it was a rather gooselike honk. "The spectre is very dangerous! You could… people are getting hurt." 

"I know, but… some things are exciting because they're dangerous, Luke." Emmy smiled and patted him on the shoulder, or as much of a shoulder as he had. "We're taking this very seriously, I promise."

Layton clicked his tail to get both of their attentions, hoping to defuse the slight tension that sat between them. 

"We need to remember to keep calm heads in investigations. If we get too agitated, we might miss vital information. A gentleman never loses focus, even in duress."

This was a lie. But it was a good lie, and hopefully it would make them consider their words.

"I… see. Sorry, Mister Layton." Luke gave a sheepish nod, sliding back off the bed.  "Let's go, then."

He barely had a chance to break from the quakelike feeling of riding on someone's shoulder before Emmy was moving again, and he had to cling on for dear life once more. 

There had to be a better way to do this.

Especially the stairs.

Once they were back outside again, Layton took a second to take in the air, before turning to the boy. "Where do you think we should start, Luke?"

"Hmm..." He rummaged around in his satchel, pulling out a folded up drawing, and carefully unfolding it with his beak. 

Ah. It looked like a crude map, with street names typed using a typewriter and the streets drawn by hand. Or, flipper.

Had he made it?

"Mmm... I think we should circle to Pike lane, through Murray Street. It's..." He looked around, then pointed off in one direction. "That way. I think. Under that arch."

"Okay!" Emmy offered Luke her hand again. Luke didn't take it, but did follow her when she started walking off. 

The archway above seemed to stretch up forever even though Layton knew it was small. Even from her shoulders....

Behind it, a small corner opened up. A little café was nestled against the wall, a golden glow bleeding out from diamond-decked windows.

This town was almost unbearably quaint and cozy, wasn't it?

It felt a lot like home, in a different way. 

"Oh, look at this little fountain!" Emmy seemed equally appreciative of the beauty of the place, peering in to the- 

"Woah!" Layton clung tight to her coat, nearly falling into the water as she leant forward. "Emmy!"

"Oh, Professor!" She held a hand there to help him get back to stability, leaning back.

"It's... fine." He put himself in a better position, and adjusted his hat. It hurt his antennae to keep it on as tight as it was, but if it ever fell off he wasn't sure what he'd do.

"You know," he mused. "This fountain... it reminds me of a puzzle."

"Oh. Really?" Luke peered into the fountain himself, as if trying to figure out what was puzzling about it.

"Oooh," Emmy perked up. "Do tell!"

"Well..." 

Chapter Text

Beyond the little restaurant was a house built into a wall and a set of stairs, a canal running lazily alongside it. The canal was the calmest thing in this town; no matter what came, the water would still inevitably flow from source to sea. 

It must be nice, thought Layton, to be so predetermined. 

An old woman with more hair than heart was pacing the walkway angrily, muttering about inspectors and evacuations.

"We should probably move around her." Said Luke, unwilling to get in another awkward conversation about his parent's marriage. 

Unfortunately, speaking only caught her attention, and she immediately stormed over to them like a grudge given form.

"You!" She demanded. "Look at this map!"

Ah.

The three of them leant over, almost simultaneously, to look at the map she'd unfolded. No directions, no labels...

"I need to find the restraunt!" She continued.

Well, if it needed to be at certain angles from the statues...

"Is it that one?" Luke asked, tapping his beak onto the paper.

"No, I think it's that one." Emmy tapped a different one.

"Assuming those things are statues, it's probably that one." Layton pointed to his own selection.

"Well that was a fine lot of use!" The lady snapped, before stomping off.

"How rude!" Said Emmy. "Your predictions are keeping people safe and they're just..." 

"It's not their fault." Luke said, though he seemed unhappy all the same. "It's scary for them." 

"Still, there's no reason to take it out on others." Layton took this moment to impart what he considered a Useful Lesson to the boy. "A gentleman- or lady- never uses emotions as a weapon."

"...right." Luke waddled over to the stairs, tried to walk down them, but overbalanced and just ended up sliding down them on his belly.

"Luke!" Layton leaned forward off Emmy's shoulder to try to see the boy and where he'd landed. "Are you alright?" 

"Oh, I'm fine." He got up and dusted himself down, none the worse for wear whatsoever. "Penguins are designed to slide! It's okay."

"Oh..." Layton sighed with relief, the panic in his chest settling. He was so used to his own fragility he hadn't considered the boy might not be so. 

"Alright, hold on." Emmy had noticed how stairs were a little bumpy for Layton and had the grace to warn him before she took them. It didn't make them any less uncomfortable, but it did mean he wouldn't fall off.

The walkway below lead into the center of town, where cobbled paths circled round a small fishpond, ringed with grass and given a bench with which to watch them. 

There was good visibility here. Since the streets ran straight for a while, you could see a good distance down each from here... though, when the mist came, it would be far less easy. However, with tall buildings framing each street, that would provide a funnelling effect for any chaos that did happen...

Luke pulled Layton from his thoughts when he spoke up, pointing off in one direction. "Murray street is this way." He started waddling, and Emmy followed.

The road slowly curved around, turning into a few small, gently sloped bridges, with water running under them. 

If he was at ground height, these things would be awful to climb. But they were more than gentle enough for Luke, and Emmy had no problems. 

It was so convenient to be tall, wasn't it? 

"The lampposts here are nice." Emmy mused at they walked. Layton had barely even noticed the things, but they were very quaint.

How often would the word "quaint" be applied to this town?

Up and down, up and down. Eventually the bridges smoothed back into roads, and as they rounded the corner, Luke squonked in delight.

"Look! A kitty cat!" 

Had he ever seen a cat in real life before? Cats weren't exactly common in the arctic, assuming Luke was some sort of irregular penguin rather than a human victim of circumstance like himself and if he was so young and he'd spent his time all closed off in Clark's house, this might be his first time seeing one. No wonder he was excited.

The cat, a slinky, purple thing with a large medallion on its collar was decidedly less enthusiastic about the giant bird making odd noises, and ran off.

Luke didn't seem to understand the cat's fear, or perhaps didn't notice it, and eagerly followed, moving at a surprisingly brisk pace for a semi-aquatic bird.

"Kitty! C'mere!" 

"Luke!" Layton yelled after him. They couldn't just let him run off like that! What if they lost him? What if he got hurt? What if someone hurt him? 

"Emmy-!" He was going to ask her to chase him, but Emmy was already thinking two seconds ahead, and started to run before he finished his sentence.

Unfortunately, that meant running down some stairs. Emmy tried to slow down a bit to make sure Layton didn't lose his grip, but it was still a painful affair. Luke hadn't needed to slow down at all, and they had to chase him all along the riverfront, until the town turned to woodland, light dappling through trees. 

They caught up to him there, stood before a rickety bridge.

"I can't see where he's gone..." Luke hadn't even noticed how far they'd gone, just unhappy he hadn't caught the cat. 

Really, they should be getting back to scouting out the area. They were rather on a time crunch here. 

But he was a child in sore need of some fun in his life. What sort of person would he be if he dragged the boy from his fun just to make him face the burden of the whole town's safety again?

"Tell you what, Luke." Layton said. "I'm sure he lives somewhere nearby. Why don't we have a little look around for his house?" 

Emmy offered Luke a hand and he took it. 

"Okay." 

They slowly wandered along the forest path towards a clearing. In the middle of it sat a building with some water tanks outside. 

"What is this?" Emmy peered into one of the tanks. "A lab?"

"I don't know." Luke mumbled, as if embarrassed by his lack of knowledge.

"Well, that's okay." Emmy reassured him. "Why don't we go look inside?" 

The door was, luckily for them, unlocked.

Inside the place was nowhere near as picturesque as the rest of the town, all hard concrete and ventilation shafts and giant tanks of water, full of fish.

There was a woman inside, peering into a tank. She turned to face them when they came in, adjusted her glasses, then frowned.

"Now, that's highly unethical." She snapped, turning the full force of her displeasure onto Emmy. "This is a science laboratory, not a... a- a circus!"

Layton tried to hide behind Emmy's lapel, not wanting to make the situation any worse.

Luke didn't seem to understand what the lady meant. Fortunate, probably. 

"What?" He turned his head to look at Layton, and by extension, Emmy. "Professor, what's she talking about?" 

"I..." He had so much on his plate, it would probably be unfair to tell the boy this was the kind of reaction he'd garner from the outside world for most of his life. "I wouldn't know."

Emmy held the boy a little closer, and looked at the lady. "Yes, what are you talking about?" 

She clearly hadn't been expecting the animals to talk, and stood stock still for a moment, processing this.

"You shouldn't have the vocal chords for that." 

That... was certainly a new one.

"The what?" Luke wasn't a biologist, he had no idea what was wrong with being a talking penguin.

"Yes," Layton said. "Well, it isn't as if we ever had a choice in the matter. So if you would be so kind as to be a little more empathetic..."

"I... see." The scientist frowned. She still didn't seem very happy with the whole affair. "Apologies. Why are you here?"

"Oh, um," Luke shuffled awkwardly. "We were following a cat. Does he live here?"

"...a cat... no. I know of the cat you mean, but he doesn't live here. Do you mind if I exa-"

Layton, who had spent more than enough of his life being prodded and poked, cut her off immediately.  "No you may not." He snapped, as firmly as possible.

"...Right." She sighed. "Well, the cat visits sometimes. I think he lives in that little house in the forest. He likes watching the fish."

"Oh, I bet he would." Luke said, peering at the giant grouper in the largest tank. The scientist eyed him warily. 

"Why don't we go find that cat?" Said Layton, giving the scientist a Look.

"Oh! Yeah!" Luke nodded and pattered for the door. Emmy followed, with Layton. 

"It's this way, right?" Luke took a different path, walking deeper into the woods until he came across a big, overgrown house, crooked and awkward. 

"Oh, I don't like this." He muttered.

"It's just a house! Don't worry!" Emmy smiled and opened the door, heading inside. "See, it's safe!"

"Hey!" Oh, god. There was someone in here. The woman inside waved a fist at Emmy. "You can't just go wandering into people's houses!"

"Wh- you left the door open!" Emmy protested.

Layton tipped his hat politely. "I'm very sorry, miss...?"

"Granny!" She replied, more calmed by the politeness. "Granny Riddleton, the great and clarivoyant."

Emmy raised an eyebrow. "....clari...?"

"Clarivoyant!" Riddleton repeated. "I'm a puzzlemancer! I collect every lost puzzle, safe in my house, until they're solved!" 

"What?"

"You heard me! But you can't use my services. I'm going on holiday! A health break! But don't worry! Keats will keep an eye on things for me! Just ask him!"

"....keats?" As in, the poet?

"My cat! Keats!" Riddleton pointed to the purple cat in the corner, who had been licking its leg.

For once, Layton and Emmy were on the exact same wavelength of thought, which was "what?"

"Um," said Emmy. 

"Ah," said Layton.

"Anyway, I've gotta go! See you!" And Riddleton was gone. 

Luke poked his head in the door. 

"Is everything alright?"

"....uh,"

Emmy looked at the cat, then looked at Luke. 

"His name is Keats."

"Oh!" Luke seemed satisfied with that answer. At least one of them was...

Layton decided it was best to move on. "Tell you what," He started, "It's starting to get late, why don't we go and get something to eat?"

"Oh, brilliant idea!" Emmy seemed hungry enough to agree.

Luke thought for a moment. "Um... there's a café on Pike Lane, I think." 

"That will do nicely." Layton agreed. He was usually peckish, but being so small meant eating very little, so it just made sense to have one or two meals a day rather than fuss about it. 

"Pike Lane, Pike Lane...." Emmy recalled where that was, and then started walking. Luke waddled after her, keeping good pace.

Back the way they went, along the bridges, up the stairs, back through the town. Pike Lane was quite close to the hotel, after all. 

By the time they got back, the whole town was washed in dusky light; the setting sun pooling all over the flagstones. It was beautiful, though temporary.

The café was still open, luckily, and they slipped inside. It was empty, too. Probably due to most of the customers evacuating. 

"Right." Layton said. "Why don't we find a table to sit at, then?" 

"Oh! I know a puzzle about tables!" Luke said, suddenly. "Do you want to hear it?" 

"Sure!" Emmy gave him a big smile. There may be dangerous things afoot, but the boy deserved a bit of fun. 

"Okay, so, uh…" Luke looked around at the tables.

"So there's four tables. And every table's order costs the same as the others. That table-" he pointed to a table, "has two glasses of orange juice, and one plate of toast, and one cup of tea."

"Not much of a meal, is it?"

"Emmy, don't interrupt the boy." 

"And that table there has two cups of tea and one plate of toast."

"And it costs the same?"

"Every table costs the same." Luke nods. "And the next one has… two orange juices, and three teas. And then the last table has three teas, but they haven't finished ordering. So what's their last order?" 

Emmy looked around at the tables, trying to remember what was on each one, before eyeing up the closest menu. "Can it be anything?" 

"No!" Luke slapped a foot on the ground. That really was so cute. "It has to be orange juice, or tea, or toast. And it has to cost the same as the other tables."

"And I presume," Layton piped up, "That every other table is equal, and the price of each foodstuff is constant?" 

"Yes!" Luke nodded eagerly. "Can you figure it out?" 

"Hmmm…" 

Emmy thought about it.

"So, table one… two tea and one toast."

"No, that's table two." Luke pointed to a different table. "Table one is two orange juices and a tea and a toast."

"Right. So… that means two orange juice costs the same as one cup of tea." She deduced. Luke nodded eagerly. 

"And the next one is two orange juice and three teas. And it costs the same, so that means every table costs eight orange juice. So that means toast… costs two tea, which is four orange juice."

"It's a lot of orange juice." Layton said.

"It is." Emmy looked down at Luke. "Can the table order two things?"

He shook his head. "No. It's the last order, so it has to be one thing."

Emmy took a moment to count on her fingers. 

"Well, if it's four things, and there's three tea, and tea is twice as much as juice, the next thing has to be tea, right?"

Luke bobbed his head up and down excitedly. 

"Is that your final answer?" He sounded so mischievous. 

"Um…. Yes, yes it is!" 

She pointed a finger dramatically at the table, playing along with his little game. "The next item is… a tea!"

Luke vocalised gleefully, making sort of rapid chuttling sounds. "It was! You're right!" 

"That was a good one, Luke." It was good to encourage the boy. "Now, a table?"

"Oh!" His feathers fluffed up with embarrassment. "Uh, this one?" He just pointed to the closest one. That was good enough for Emmy, who nodded and sat down. Layton slowly climbed down her shoulder to sit on the table, seeing as there was no way he'd be able to reach anything if he was anywhere else. 

Luke managed to scrabble up onto a chair, though it really wasn't suited to his body. He was trying. 

"Hey, that's not very hygenic." The chef wandered over to their table. He had raised a menu up to smack the bug, before realising it was wearing a hat. "Could you get your... uh.."

Layton tilted his hat up so the man could see his face. "I am a tenured professor of Gressenheller University, thank you very much, and that is the Mayor's son."

"Hello." Luke gave a small wave.

"...I... see."

He lowered his menu. "Are you... dining here?"

Layton was remembering why he usually avoided leaving his house. "Well, we're not here for fun." 

"Right. Well, the, uh, special for tonight is a leg of lamb glazed with herb-infused olive oil, served in an orange sauce with cabbage and crispy potatoes." 

"Ooooohhhh...." Emmy groaned. "That sounds so good..."

It did sound nice. He missed being able to eat so much.

"I've never had that..." Luke flapped his flippers. "Can we have that?"

"Of course we can." Layton nodded. 

"Right." The chef wrote that down, and wandered off to prepare it. "I don't suppose it's a violation if nobody sees it..." 

Layton tried to ignore that.

The meal, when it came, was absolutely delicious. It had been so long since he'd had something so... decadent. While being this way was generally awful, at least he could taste well. Too well, sometimes. But he couldn't imagine Luke could taste the same. He was sure birds couldn't taste much. Though, the boy was so young, maybe he didn't know what he was missing.

Talking about missing, Layton couldn't tell if people ate more than he remembered or if these two were just hungry, because the whole leg of lamb was gone within minutes. He wasn't sure either of them even stopped to chew.

Regardless, by the time they were done, the sun had slipped down into obscurity, and the mist, normally thin, had started swirling thicker around the buildings, coiling around the bases of buildings like snakes. It would be peaceful, if not for the impending doom.

There was a policeman blocking the archway back to the hotel, annoyingly, shouting to someone on the other side; something about evacuating.

It was worrying some people hadn't left yet.

Luke opened his beak to call out, and Layton shook his head. "I think we'd better take another way around." He said. If they got close, the policeman might see them, and frankly, Layton had had enough of having people yell at them or swat them or be rude to them today. 

"Oh... okay." Luke nodded disappointedly, and started waddling the long way around. It was good Luke hadn't lost so much faith in people as he had.

Emmy held Luke's flipper most of the way. It was getting hard to see, and lack of visibility mixed with narrow stairs was not a good thing. They had to be slow and careful until they made it back. 

"How dare he, how dare he-"

Or, until they bumped into another old man whinging in the street.

"I'm not doing another thing for my ungrateful family-"

"SIR," Emmy raised her voice so he could hear her. "YOU NEED TO EVACUATE."

The man Hmphed, and stamped his foot. "I won't! I never will! They called me a coward! I won't budge another inch!"

Was every person in this town like this?

"Wh-" Luke shook his beak. "You could die! Stop being childish! Run!" 

"Childish! Well if YOU'RE so mature and serious, why don't YOU solve this puzzle! If you can solve it, maybe-"

A gentleman would never use bad language, especially not in front of a child, but this was absolute-

Layton rattled his tail in annoyance. 

"Emmy, can you please remove this man?" He probably didn't weigh any more than a penguin.

"Absolutely." She grabbed the man by the arm and dragged him away, while he protested all the while. 

She came back quickly, to make sure Luke was okay. 

"Why wouldn't he leave?" Asked Luke. 

"Some people aren't motivated by survival." Layton said with a sigh. "More their own pride." 

"...oh." Luke didn't know how to respond to that. He waddled along silently. 

They came up to the hotel and went inside. Despite all the police's efforts, the owner was still there, cleaning glasses at the bar. 

Layton nodded politely to him. He didn't respond. 

They went up to their room. The windows offered a fine view, but Luke shivered at the sight.

"Are you alright, Luke?" Asked Layton, climbing down from Emmy's shoulder to sit on the windowsill.

"The spectre will be here soon." He said. "It's going to destroy the town. It might destroy this building tonight. What if we're still inside when it...?"

"That's... not very cheerful...." Emmy said, reaching hesitantly to pat him on the shoulder. "This wouldn't be another prophecy, would it?" 

"...I don't know." He mumbled. 

Layton looked at Emmy. Emmy looked at Layton.

"Luke..." Layton said softly. "Do you want us to take you back home?" 

"No." Luke replied a lot quicker than usual. "If I went home I'd have to..." He looked away, suddenly unable to meet Layton's eyes. "I'd have to see my father..."

Somehow, impending doom was not the most uncomfortable thing in the room now. 

Layton had known Clark for years. He'd always thought he was a good man. But the more time he spent with his son, the more he wondered. If the boy would rather face death than his father...

"....Luke," He started, softly. "You're here because you wanted to see the spectre, right...?"

"Uh," Luke adjusted his hat nervously. "I... yeah. As the one who predicts the spectre's appearance, I... should be here." 

Layton decided to focus on that rather than the whole "broken home life" thing. 

"Then don't worry." He walked across the window ledges to get closer to the boy. "Everything will be fine. You'll be safe with us, I promise." 

"...Thanks, Mr.Layton." 

Emmy saw a chance to lighten the mood and went for it.

"Hey, what about me?" 

Layton smiled. "Well, you'll be safe too, Emmy." In truth, she was the one who held the burden of keeping them safe. It was something he regretted. But there was nothing he could do.

Luke dragged a chair over to the window so he could properly see out of it, and opened the shutters. 

It was time to wait.

Two hours later and Luke was still sat by the window, flippers flopped over the sill, head lain on them.

Layton had moved to the table, and was trying to have a sip of tea. The teacups here were far too large, but he had no choice, and was thirsty. "See anything yet?" 

Luke opened his mouth, but the first think out of it was a breathy honk which was probably a yawn.

"Nooo..." he mumbled. "Nothing."

"You know," Emmy turned from the other window to look back in the room. "The more I sit here, the more I almost wonder if this could even be real, but..."

She glanced between Luke and Layton, then looked back outside, the unspoken implication being "if you two can exist, a giant might as well exist too."

"It's like a scary story to tell children. And the poor boy, predicting ruin to protect a town that doesn't seem to want to listen to him..." 

Luke sighed.

"And what if it doesn't show up? Where will we be then?" 

"It'll show up." Luke kept staring out at the darkness. "I know it will."

A faint sound started filtering in. Something echoing. And a thrumming. And a grunting

"What's that?" Said Layton.

"What's what?" Luke looked around.

"It sounds like music!" Emmy said. 

Luke, who's hearing wasn't as good as theirs, was left in confusion until it got louder. 

"Oh..." he wailed. "It's the flute, I know it..."

The thrumming turned to thumping. Uneven movement.

Layton jumped onto a chair, and tried to make his way to the window. By the time Emmy and Luke could hear the rumbling, it was already shaking the walls.

All three of them peered out, watching as a figure began to form in the dark.

Tall, dark, gangly, a clawed hand as it smashed into a building. The wet slap of something soft against stone. Grunting, growling. Red eyes, glinting in the dark, round, no pupils.

It was gigantic. 

"Is that..."

"The spectre! It's the spectre!"

Emmy fumbled, pulling out her camera as any good investigator would to get a good shot. 

Layton tried to discern truth from fog, but saw only a beast thousands of times his size, slowly turning to face him.

He didn't think it was a uniquely insectile trait to feel the urge to flee as strongly as he now was. For once being an insect did not make a difference.

He saw a giant claw raising up, up, up, and barely managed to make his muscles move fast enough to jump out the way as it came down on the building.

The other two were knocked back and knocked down. Luke wailed, feathers fluffing up until he was just a puffball, flippers over his head. "It's ending! The world is ending! We're all going to die!"

The spectre began to stomp off, and Layton wanted to follow, but.... there was no way they'd catch it, especially not with Luke in that state. Or him, as... him.

Layton climbed across the rubble in the room, weaving through the destruction to get to the boy. He patted him with all four arms, trying to smooth down his head feathers. "Luke, shhh. Breathe. It's okay." He soothed. "You can't let fear control you, my boy. You have to keep a clear head in times like this. If you let fear control you, you'll never find the truth." 

"Nnnnh..." Luke sat up, and oh he. He was certainly a very large bird, wasn't he. Layton buried his own fear. It wasn't rational. He was just a boy. 

"Do you think you can be calm for me?" He asked gently.

Luke wiped his tears and nodded. 

"Right. Let's go outside then." Layton patted his leg, because that was the only bit he could reach from on the floor, then climbed up onto Luke's satchel. If he was on the floor in this mist, he would absolutely be stood on.

Emmy carried them both down the stairs, and then they came outside, looking at the damage left behind. 

Or, at least trying to.

"God, this fog is so thick!" Emmy said as she snapped some photographs of the destruction. "I can barely see!" 

"It's one of the spectre's powers. His many, awful powers..." Luke shivered. Layton patted his side comfortingly. 

"Don't worry. You'll be okay. You have friends here to help you." He soothed. "You can't dwell on fearful things." Like being attacked by a giant bird. 

"I... yeah." Luke nodded. 

"I'm scared too." Layton said. "We all are."  Well, maybe Emmy wasn't. He had no idea if Emmy was afraid. And Luke may not be afraid for the same reason as him... "But we can't be distracted. Now, we should go look for any evidence..."

He started looking around, and, to his shock, saw the spectre still looming towards Great Ely street. It... wasn't very fast, then, was it? Especially for its size.

"Over there!" He pointed, and Emmy nodded, camera at the ready as she ran. Luke started hopping to keep up with her, which was much, much worse than being carried up stairs for Layton, jostling around in that satchel like a maraca.

By the time they got to Ely street, it was chaos. Broken lampposts, holes in buildings, metal bent like pipecleaners. But no sign of the spectre. But it was just there....

They kept running, and then... at the end of the road, nothing. 

"Where is it? Even fog this thick couldn't hide something like that..." 

"Maybe it's in the canal?" Emmy mused, before pointing towards it. "There! Look! I can see something!

How could that beast fit in the canal? It wasn't that deep...

Layton tried to look for the thing, but couldn't see it. He could, however, hear...

"The flute!"

"What? Where?" Luke spun around, which meant Layton spun around too. Oh, he felt a little queasy at all this movement...

"Nobody's here, but it's close by...the park?" 

Layton told himself quite firmly this was for the safety of the town and the good of its people as he was left swinging wildly around in that satchel when the two of them hurried off. This was absolute hell. Absolute and complete hell.

There was nobody playing a flute in the park, but it still sounded close. They kept moving along the street. Still, nothing. Nothing, nothing. When it sounded up again, it seemed to be coming from all around. Not that Layton could tell much, just that everything was so much.

"It's not here!" Luke wailed. "I can't see it. I can't see anyone... It must be the flute! It must be the spectre's flute!"

"The what?" He assumed that was Emmy. He couldn't see her, though. 

"The flute! In the legend of the spectre, the villagers used to use a flute to call the spectre to fight off invaders."

"So, the spectre does whatever the flute holder wants?"

Luke nodded. "Someone's using the flute to get the spectre to destroy misthallery. So everything's over!"

"Why?" 

"Because! The- the legend says if the spectre is ever used for impure motives, it'll unleash it's wrath upon all of humanity! It'll destroy everything in its path to create it's own paradise!"

Well, that was horrifying. No wonder he was scared. 

"Well, we don't know it was the spectre." Emmy offered. "It was definitely something large and angry, but that doesn't mean it's definitely going to-"

"It was the spectre! It- it waa giant and angry and had fog and the flute- it was the spectre! We're doomed!" Luke slapped his foot on the floor. Even that made the satchel shake. 

Layton groaned and tried to haul himself out, flopping onto the cobblestones. 

"Augh." He groaned, as the world slowly became solid to him. "I've been shaken about like a bottle of champagne..." 

"Oh! I'm so sorry Mister Layton!" Luke tried to help him up, though they didn't manage much. "I- I was so-"

"No, it's... fine." Layton slowly got to his feet, antennae wiggling as he tried to find balance. "Luke, we believe you. We've belived you since we saw that letter. We've never... ugh... you have to have faith in us too. We can find out what the spectre is together. And we can't... reach conclusions before we have evidence...."

"...right..." Layton couldn't tell if Luke was genuinely agreeing with him, or just felt bad for jostling him about so much. 

"But it's not here anymore." Emmy said. "So now what?"

"Well, we've uncovered a lot of... useful clues so far. We can start to make deductions from those."

"What clues?" Asked Luke.

"Well," Layton looked around. Wet ground, nothing else. "I didn't see that thing's feet at all. It seemed to be concealing it's bottom half, and didn't leave any footprints, just... water. 

"It's using the canals." Suggested Luke. 

"Exactly." Layton nodded. "And the sounds, the grunting and growling and thunking. And the music. Those are all important, but the biggest clue is the music. Music means an instrument, which means we can trace what it was. There have to be some woodwinds in this town..."

"Well," Luke thought for a moment. "I think the black market sold an antique flute a few months ago? I didn't think anything of it at the time because. Well, this hadn't happened yet."

"The- the what?"

Layton opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again. Why would a town this small have a black market? Why would Luke, of all people- or birds- know about it?

...was his father involved?

No, no. He couldn't just assume everything bad of Clark just because of... all this. 

Maybe he just shouldn't ask.

"Do you think that might be the spectre's flute?"

"I don't know. But... we could find out?"

"Well, I trust your instincts." Layton patted his leg. "We should certainly investigate it." Even if that meant finding how Clark's son was involved in a black market. "It's the best" and only, "lead we've got."

"Right." Said Emmy, looking around.

"But not now," Layton said, very quickly. "Not now. We should go to bed first. We... need to rest. We'll go at it tomorrow, in the morning." He would very much like to sleep off this stress.

"Oh, right." Luke nodded. "Let's... go back to bed."

Emmy bent down to offer Layton a hand up. Layton took it.

Back... to bed.

Chapter Text

Admittedly, sleeping in a hotel that had been torn open was a little... cold. 

It wasn't a problem for Luke, and Emmy just stole some of his blankets. Layton curled up under a pillow and waited for the sun to rise again.

It was a long time. Something kept him up. Vibrations in the walls. He was sure he heard the pattering of rodents in the walls. And squeaking. Chuttering? 

Layton uncurled, pushing the pillow up so he could squint out into the dark. If nothing else, his night vision was perfectly servicable. 

Servicable enough to see Luke, sat up, chuttering about something. 

Layton considered asking him if he was okay, but decided against it. If the boy needed anything, he knew Layton was here.

He tried to go back to sleep. He wasn't sure if he ever managed any sleep, but he did eventually crawl out from under the pillow when the sun was up. 

Luke was awake bright and early, making a bit of a racket. Layton wasn't sure if that was a penguin thing or a boy thing. He'd never had children. Maybe children were just like that.

He got up, got properly dressed, then had a biscuit for breakfast, nibbling away at it while they waited for Emmy to wake up.

"Now that we're awake, Luke, yesterday you said you knew about some antique flute on the black market..."

"Sold, yes." Luke agreed, putting his hat on. "Half a year ago, maybe?"

Layton paused, trying to find the way to phrase it. "Do you mind if I ask, how...?"

Luke could not meet his gaze. "....My sources."

His... sources, huh.

What sort of sources did a bird shut up in his room all day have? Certainly not conventional ones...

"The same sources you get the rest of your information on the town from?" 

The corners of his beak twisted up a little in a smile. "Maybe."

"So where's the black market?" Emmy's voice surprised them both. She'd already gotten up and dressed before they noticed.

"Oh!" Luke fiddled with his bag. "Uh... I don't know how to get to it. Exactly. Um... but I know where the regular market is! I can take you there? I've never been there, really..." 

Of course he hadn't been there. A penguin in the market would be a sight.

"I'd be pretty worried if you did know where the black market was..." Emmy muttered.

"....yes." Layton tipped his hat down slightly. "Anyhow, we can certainly go investigate the main market. Those are the places for gossip..." 

Luke nodded, happy to be of help.

The three of them left the room, and almost immediately were greeted with a woman, staring at them. 

"Uh,"

She seemed to take a minute to collect herself, before smiling politely. 

"Hi! I hope you slept well! Uh, to thank you for. Not cancelling your booking or anything, I'd like you to have this!" She thrust a puppet at Emmy. "Have a nice time in Misthallery!"

She left as soon as she came, clattering down the stairs and off. Probably not expecting to see animals in the hotel.

"Oooh!" Said Emmy. "This is cute!"

Luke peered at it. "What is it? Can I hold it?"

Layton tugged at Emmy's lapel. "Don't get too distracted so early." He advised. "We'll have a lot of talking to do today." Talking to people was one of the most tiring things to do when they didn't listen.

"Oh! Right, uhh..." She handed the puppet off to Luke, who seemed delighted with it, then started heading downstairs. Layton braced himself for the action. He was starting to get used to it, though it was still unpleasant. 

Downstairs the owner was cleaning his glasses. He barely even seemed to notice them, which was far, far better than noticing them, as far as Layton was concerned. Maybe he was trying to ignore them on purpose. Maybe he thought he'd been drinking too much.

"Now, it should be across the rope bridge." Luke said, as they stepped out into the sunshine. He seemed to enjoy being outside. It was nice to feel the sun on your face, wind in your hair, or antennae, or feathers. 

Such a shame that the outdoors was often such a problem. 

Luke started waddling off and Emmy followed. There were more people out on the street, now. They were getting unusual stares. Muttering. Layton tried not to let it get to him. Luke, who was much newer to this all, sped up, and his gaze flicked to every new person who spoke.

It was uncomfortable for him, being spoken about like he wasn't there. 

"Hey!" A voice said. "Luke!" 

A young boy gave him a cheery wave. 

Ah, finally, some good contact. 

Luke perked up a little bit, and gave the boy a wave back.

"Oh, is that a friend of yours?" Emmy cooed.

"Oh, uh," Luke turned to her. The boy took this as a go ahead to approach. "That's Finch, when I first moved here we used to play in the woods, but..."

"I haven't seen you in ages!" Finch smiled. "You too coo' for Finches now? Well, at least you're outside!"

"...Yeah..." Luke sighed.

"We're going to the market, he's helping us out." Emmy explained. They couldn't make up for his absence, but could at least explain his presence.

"Oh! Well, you'd better watch your tail feathers!" Finch whistled, and shook his head. "That's where all the worker's kids roost, and they're no laughing matter."

Layton frowned. Was this a joke to the boy?

"Worker's kids?" Emmy asked. 

"Oh, the factory on the east side got clipped and closed." Finch waved his hand as he explained. "Place is a hoot, hoot! But since the workers lost their jobs, their kids spend all day perched at the market. You'd better keep Luke there under your wing if you wanna keep their feathers unruffled!"

Luke shook his beak. "I can take care of myself!"

Finch clicked his tongue. "Luke, you're a fancy lil' chick from a far away flight, feathers preened, living it up in a mansion with the mayor. That's the kinda life what most kids chirp about in their dreams. Bad enough that it's being given to the wrong sorta chick!"

Luke shuffled a little closer to Emmy, and looked down at the ground. 

"They really shouldn't envy it." He mumbled.

This was getting decidedly unpleasant. Finch seemed to notice Luke's distress, and patted him on the shoulder. "Hey hey! You'll be alright if you flock together."

Layton really was a bit sick of this. "Could you please stop talking like that?"

Finch stared. "What do you mean?"

Luke shook his head. "That's just how he talks," He mumbled to Layton. "He just... does it."

"....ah." Layton shook his head. "Nevermind."

"Anyway, you take care, Luke!" Finch gave a cheerful wave, then walked on his way.

"Right..." Luke stepped away from Emmy a bit, and sighed. "We should get walking..."

Layton wanted to ask if he was alright, but there was more pressing matters at hand. 

They got back to the rope bridge. Luke pattered across it gleefully, bouncing along each step. It was awful to be on the bridge behind him, jittering and wobbling, but at least the boy had some fun. 

Layton just covered his eyes, clung on for dear life and waited until the shaking stopped.

"Oh, thank goodness..." he muttered, uncovering his eyes again. "Is it over?"

"We're across." Said Emmy.

Unlike him, Luke was in fine form. It was probably the happiest Layton had seen him, actually. It was good for him to get out and about.

"Look! A sweet cart!" Said Emmy. Indeed, down some winding steps was a quaint old sweet cart. It was red and blue with white decorations, like an iced biscuit, with a big blue umbrella perched above it to provide shade. A little haven of nostalgic childhood. Emmy ran over to have a look, which meant even more bone-rattling for Layton. His nails had left small puncture marks in her lapel by now from how often he'd had to grip it tight. 

There was a tiny old woman standing by it, face framed by bottle-rim glasses and a big bonnet. Her face scrunched into a scowl when Emmy ran over, shaking a fist at her. "Oh, I'm not selling to you, you greedy woman! I make my candy by hand. I make it for children, not for adults!"

Emmy stood there, slack-jawed.

"That's... a terrible business plan." Said Layton.

"You have a point." Luke agreed. "Children don't have much money. At least, I don't have any money..."

"Oh!" The old lady peered down at Luke, cleaning her glasses and squinting. It seemed her eyesight was not that great, because she smiled a toothy grin. "Oh! Do you like candy, little boy?"

"I'm not that little! And no. But thank you." 

"Aww, well aren't you sweet!" She flapped a hand dismissively. "Have a nice day now!" 

"....oh, okay..." having been pushed away, Luke began to waddle off down the street towards the market.

"I...but..." Emmy looked from the candy stand to Luke. Layton shook his head. 

"...don't worry about it. We'll get you some sweets later. Just... follow Luke."

As she wandered off, he snuck a glance at the sweet cart. He didn't want to set a bad example, but it would be a lie to say he wasn't a little disappointed that the woman wouldn't sell to anyone else. A sweet would be nice...

But no. They had important work to do. 

Down the road, the town opened up again. Colourful stalls of all shapes and sizes, rickety rooftops pathed with wooden planks, and goods of all kind laid out for sale. 

Weirdly, all of the stalls seemed to be serviced by children. Layton didn't approve of that. It seemed irresponsible. What if one of them got hurt? There really should be a responsible adult around...

"I don't see a black market around here..." Emmy said, as if there would be some sort of large illuminated "Illegal Objects Sold Here" sign above one of the stands. 

Did she, perhaps, not understand the desire of criminals to stay unarrested? 

"Yes, well, it will be hidden." Layton said.

"Uh..." Luke had stopped moving, a little concerned by all the older children who were staring at him.

"Oy. Miss." The girl behind the fruit stand said. "Where'd you get that penguin?" 

"I didn't get him! And don't talk around him like that!" Emmy was offended on Luke's behalf, which really wasn't necessary, as he was perfectly willing and able to be offended himself.

"I'm not "that penguin"! I have a name." 

"You can TALK?" A small crowd of children was forming. It was a little worrying. Layton wondered if he should hide to avoid causing even more interest.

"Yes! A lot of animals can do that." Luke would have used examples, but he didn't have many to hand. "I'm Luke Triton." 

"Luke Triton? The mayor's kid? Give off!" One of the boys laughed. "You telling me the mayor has a bird for a son?" 

"Well, Finch said his friend was a birdie-"

"Finch says everyone's a birdie!"

"oh, that's true..."

The children argued amongst themselves. Now would probably be time for a responsible adult.

Layton cleared his throat as loudly as he could. It wasn't that loud, so Emmy helpfully assisted by whistling. Very loudly. Right next to his ear. 

"Thank you, Emmy." He winced, trying not to show too much pain in front of this group of rowdy children.

"Now, if you wouldn't mind." He addressed the crowd. "Luke is a member of this community, and I believe he deserves the same respect and consideration as any of you. You should, after all, be polite to your neighbours." 

"...Is that a bug?" 

Today was going to be one of those days, wasn't it.

"Hey!" Emmy spoke up once more. If they wouldn't listen to a responsible adult, maybe they'd listen to a tall one. "That is the famous Professor Layton, expert of archeology!"

And then, almost as an assurance, she added "And he's kind of sensitive about the bug thing, so don't bring it up." 

His antennae couldn't droop any lower if he tried.

"yes," he said, firmly. "Anyway. We have business in this market, so if you could please let us be, that would be greatly appreciated." He finished this with a polite tip of his hat. He wished he'd stayed at Gressenheller.

"Let's go." He said to Emmy. She nodded, and began pushing her way through the crowd, Luke hopping along after her. He wasn't a fan of this kind of attention. Finch may very well have been right. 

Past an old cafe, the streets began to narrow, turning from wide trading pavillions to winding backstreets, shaded beneath makeshift wooden walkways. 

For a small town it was surprisingly vertical, buildings covered in bridges and ladders, likely to make the most of the space that was there. Oddly, this seemed to be the busiest place in Misthallery; it felt like there were constantly eyes on them as they weaved through the cramped spaces. 

"I don't like this." Said Luke.

"I can appreciate that." Layton said, trying to motivate him. "But we need to be brave."

"It's not that bad!" Emmy was cheerfully running a hand across some woodwork. "Look at all the character here! It's nice."

"Oy!" A boy ran over, smacking her hand off a loose door. "That's my haul! Don't touch it!"

"Oh! Whoops." Emmy pulled her hand back and smiled apologetically.

"....your.... haul?" Luke tilted his head to the side, confused.

"My haul!" He repeated. "You want it, you gotta buy it!"

Luke examined the rather paltry offerings. He may be a bird, but he was a well-off bird. This style of thing wasn't his wheelhouse at all.

"...why would I buy this?" He asked. It was meant as a genuine question, but Layton still winced at the bluntness of it. 

"Luke..."

"Oh! You're too good for reclaimed items, huh?" The boy raised an eyebrow. "You're a bird, what do you know about making a living?" 

"I-" Luke's feathers puffed up, and he buried his beak in his chest. 

"No," he mumbled. "I guess not..."

"There's no need to be hostile." Layton advised. "You're both trying your best, you at commerce and Luke at investigation." 

The boy was silent for a bit, then nodded. "....That's fair. So whaddya want?"

"Well," If they had any plans to be subtle about their plans, Emmy was going to ruin that. "We're trying to find the black market so we can ask about a flute. Do you know where it is?"

"Emmy!" Luke waved his beak. That seemed like shock? "You can't just go out and ask people about the black market!" 

"What? Why not?"

"Well," Layton tipped his hat over his face. "They are somewhat illegal."

"Oh, the black market's for rich tourists." The boy waved a hand dismissively. "I can't tell you where it is, though. Ask Aunt Taffy. She might know."

"I'm assuming you mean that old woman making sweets..." Layton said. "Either way, thank you for your help." 

"Oh... I was hoping not to talk to her again." Emmy's shoulders slumped, but she turned around anyway. "Right, let's go then..."

They retraced their steps, which frankly just felt like a lot of this investigation so far, but it was the lead they'd been given, so they had to follow it around in circles. 

Aunt Taffy, as the boy called her, was busy wrapping some lollipops by her cart. The sugary smell was deeply enticing. Unfortunately, Layton knew it was quite forbidden to him.

"Excuse me..." Emmy tried to be polite, but Taffy glared daggers at her the moment she heard her voice. 

"I told you, you're not allowed sweets! Go away!" She snapped. 

"No," Emmy held up her hands in surrender. "We just wanted to ask you about the black market!"

It was a good thing the police were so preoccupied by the spectre, or they would absolutely have been arrested by now being this brazen.

"Oh, you do, huh? Well, maybe ol'Taffy will tell you what she knows. But you're gonna have to do a lil' something for her first!"

There was no way this sweet maker was actually called Taffy, right? Perhaps it was short for something, like... Taffiftha. 

Okay, probably not. This was an odd town. Maybe Taffy was a normal name here. 

Aunt Taffy pulled out a bag, dumping the contents on the counter of her cart.

The unmistakable scent of sugar and gelatine hit Layton's antennae. This was a diasater waiting to happen and he knew it.

"See, I ordered some sweets in the shape of-"

"Wait," Emmy interrupted. "I thought you made all your sweets?"

"I make SOME of them!" She snapped, all vim and vitriol. "What, you think an old lady like me has the time and resources to mass produce jellies? Who do you think I am?" 

Emmy elected not to respond to that for the sake of not jeopardising their chance of getting vital information.

"ANYWAY," Taffy continued, shooting Emmy a vicious glare before looking back at her sweets. "I ordered hearts, clubs, diamonds and spades. I thought I got the wrong amount, but the seller said he definitely sent the right amount. You've got better eyes than me, can you count how many of each is here?"

Ah, counting. Well, this should be easy. 

Luke moved over to have a look. Unfortunately the countertop was just a little too tall for him to peer over. He tried standing on the tips of his toes, but nearly overbalanced; penguin feet weren't really made for it.

"I can't see." He said, sounding rather disappointed he couldn't help.

Layton thought that was quite sweet of him. 

"Why are half of them different sizes?" Asked Emmy, seemingly to herself.

That was sort of bizarre. "Maybe it's for more variety in a pack?" Layton suggested, but in truth he thought that was a wildly inefficient way of making sweets, especially jellied ones, since the smaller ones would have much firmer centers than the larger ones. And why would you make different sizes of mold when just one would suffice? It was curious. However, also not relevant to their solving of this puzzle.

Emmy glanced over the pile of sweets, quickly tallying up what she could see.

"Well, there's three diamonds, three clubs, four spades and... two hearts?" She looked again. "That doesn't seem right. Why would you only get two of one?"

"That's what I thought!" Taffy said. "I'm sure I ordered more hearts! But he said he sent what I ordered."

Hmmm.

Layton peered at the jellies, looking for any discrepancies between them.

"Ah." He said. "There, look, that's not a spade. That's a heart with a bit attached."

Emmy raised an eyebrow, as if he'd said something a bit stupid. "That's... what a spade is, Professor."

"No, I... look, the base isn't the same as the spades, there's a raw edge on it." He jumped onto the table to point it out, pulling the raw edged half-diamond away from the heart.

From here he could tell they were banana flavoured, which was a shame, because he would really rather enjoy some banana jelly and he was supposed to be finding a black market, not thinking about sweets. It was really rather juvenile of him to-

"PIGEON! SHOO!" Taffy had been checking over her other stock while they counted, and having turned around to see a blurry little thing on her countertop, swatted at it with a lollipop. 

Layton leaped out the way, scrabbling up onto Emmy's shoulder again in a less dignified manner than he'd have liked.

"Hey! What are you doing!" Emmy once again rose to his defense. It was really rather nice having someone willing to defend you. "We're still counting!"

"Get that thing off your shoulder!" Taffy waved a lollipop threateningly. 

"He's helping you count! Don't be rude!" 

"You have three clubs, two spades, four hearts and four diamonds!" Layton exclaimed, trying his best to stay out of her reach. "One of the diamonds got broken in half and stuck to some of the hearts is all! Please stop threatening me!"

"Wh-" Taffy was naturally quite shocked that he could speak. "You- what?"

"We counted your sweets!" Luke said pleadingly. "Please just tell us about the Black Market and leave Mr.Layton alone!"

The woman was trembling at rage with having adults and some sort of unknown creature touch her precious sweets, and shook her fist at them. "Go ask Tweeds. Middle of the market, red shirt. Now GET OUT OF HERE! I don't want to see you OR your monkey anywhere near my shop again!"

That was definitely the sign to make a hasty and dignified exit.

They hurried back down to the market, escaping the fury of Aunt Taffy. 

"Well, that could have gone better..." Layton muttered. He was admittedly pretty disappointed he did not get to try some of the jelly, but it wouldn't do to complain about a thing like that. He had much more important and much bigger problems to not complain about.

The center of the market was, oddly enough, completely and utterly empty. Even the children had disappeared. And yet...

"Something's not right." 

As if to prove that statement, something above them started laughing, and all of a sudden a giant, becloaked thing in a weird white mask jumped down in between Emmy and Luke, and before Layton even had time to shout Emmy had already tried to clonk it in the head with a fierce kick, which it unfortunately dodged. 

"Emmy!" Layton shouted, gripping onto her shoulder desperately to try to avoid being knocked off. "What-" 

The raven-man laughed and ran off, sleeves and straw hair trailing behind it.

"Oh no you don't!"

Emmy shot after it like a beagle on a hunt, leaving luke to hop behind her, trying his best to keep up.

She chased it down a side passage, where it jumped on the awning of a building and up onto the rooftops. 

Now, a normal person would stop their chase there, go "well he's oddly committed to escaping", and go back to investigating. 

Emmy, Layton was increasingly finding, was not normal. Emmy was possibly not even from planet earth, because when she saw the raven-man do this, her first thought wasn't to stop, but to run up the side of a wall, bounce on the same awning and move the chase to the rooftops. 

They raced across the thin ridges of the rooftpps, jumping straight off one and climbing straight up another. 

This was not normal. This was not safe. This was absolute HELL if you were a tiny fragile creature clinging to one of the participant's shoulders for dear life.

Emmy leaped over the top of one roof and the professor was flung from her coat. For a brief moment he thought he was going to die, and then before he hit the ground he was snatched by the clammy hands of what seemed to be an entirely seperate raven-man.

He struggled around it its grasp, his chitin plates stridulating loudly as it laughed, throwing him up to a walkway where another Raven-man jumped from a door, catching him, running along and throwing him to a doorway-

The next one to catch him was unfortunate, as centipedes do not take well to rough handling, even when they wear the skin of a gentleman.

"OW! IT BIT ME!" Its voice was shrill and vaguely familiar.

He was thrown again, landed blessedly softly on an awning, and immediately jumped off of it, trying to find anything to orientate himself, before he was scooped up by someone else. Luckily, before he could instinctively lash out again he was stashed away inside the dark of a satchel.

Ah. Luke.

He could hear laughing, the pounding of footsteps, his own tail hissing, and then Emmy's voice.

"What-" 

Another voice.

"I am the Black Raven. Welcome to my market." A voice full of smugness. Or maybe Layton was simply feeling that on account of being thrown about like a softball.

"You come here asking all sorts of questions. Why is that?" 

"Well," He heard Luke say. "We're trying to find out about a flute that you sold." 

"Really? That so?" It sounded so amused, as if it hadn't nearly gotten people hurt. "Well then, weird little birdie, you'd better prove you can barter!"

"Barter?"

"Birdie?"

"Squeak?"

What was that. 

Layton looked around, and saw a large purple mouse in the satchel with him. 

He stared at the mouse. The mouse stared at him. 

He had no idea what the usual act was when facing a mouse. It didn't seem... hostile.

He tipped his hat politely to the mouse. That was better than nothing, he supposed. The mouse probably wasn't any of his business. 

There was a rustle of paper above, which drew his attention back to the world outside the darkness of this deceptively deep satchel.

"You heard me! Here's your hint. You want to find us? Figure out the rest! Kehehe!" 

And with that, there was a swishing of fabric and footsteps. Sounded like it was gone.

"What on earth was..." Emmy gasped. "Professor? Professor!" It seemed she had finally noticed he was not with her. 

"Oh, I've got him..." Luke put his flipper in the satchel. He touched the mouse, who then pushed his flipper towards Layton. "The black raven threw him about."

Layton scrabbled up Luke's flipper until he got to his shoulder. 

"Oh, pr-" Emmy's tone changed the moment she saw him. Was he in that poor a condition? "Are you okay?"

"Fine." He replied. "Just... don't ever do that again with me on your shoulder, Emmy."

Emmy looked over at her shoulder, noticing where her coat had been torn from his claws.

"Oh. Whoops." She said. "I'll have to fix that later....but anyway, what was all THAT about?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure the black raven runs the market." Luke said. How did he know that? You know what, nevermind. Perhaps it was better unasked.

Layton looked around for any sign of The Raven, and only spotted what looked like a receipt on the ground.

"What's that?" He gestured to it, and Emmy picked it up, peering at it.

"....I have no idea, it's just a bit of paper that says "put my body together." Which is... odd." She frowned. "Should we keep it?"

"It could be a clue." Luke said, reaching for it. Emmy handed it down to him, and he and Layton had a look. Yes, it definitely did just look like some paper.

"....We should go ask around in the market again." Layton said. "At least now we know their name we have something else to ask." On top of that, it seemed likely at least some of the people they'd be asking would be involved in this whole "Black Raven" stunt; multiple people in costumes running in and out of houses would cause a lot of alarm if the locals weren't a part of it, and nobody seemed to be worried by it...

Now, Taffy had said something about someone called Tweeds, hadn't she?

Layton moved on top of Luke's hat for a better vantage point and scanned the area until he saw a boy in a red shirt, and pointed him out.

"He's the one the shopwoman spoke of, isn't he?"

"Oh!" Emmy nodded, and led the small group's advance over to the boy, who was watching them from afar with what could only be construed as amusement. At least it wasn't fear.

"Hey, it's Tweeds, right?" Emmy asked, trying to be polite to the boy. "Aunt Taffy said you could help us."

"Hmm....." The boy sized her up, pouting his lip. "I could, but you've got to help me first."

Ah, the mecenarial world of the marketplace.

"Alright." Emmy nodded. "What do you need?"

"I need to know how many ones are in one to one hundred and twenty." Tweeds pulled out a battered red notebook and pencil. "It's my maths homework. The teacher said we'd get extra points if we could figure out how many ones you'd have to write out, but I don't wanna do all that counting."

If Layton was not a proper gentleman, he might have told the boy that people's lives were on the line here, and that he'd rather not spend time helping him cheat at maths homework in order to save the town.

However. 

He was, after all, a child. Children did not have the same perspective on importance as adults. What reason would Tweeds have to assume he was telling the truth about how important their mission was? Why should he help them without gaining something? It wouldn't do to argue, especially not with a boy.

"Right." Layton said. "One appears twice in one to ten. It then appears eleven times from eleven to twenty. It will then appear once in every repeating set until we get to one hundred, where it will once again appear eleven times. Then it will appear twenty times from one hundred and eleven to one hundred and twenty." 

He did some counting in his head, muttering numbers under his breath.

"Twenty two plus... that's thirty three... fifty three."

He nodded, and help up his fingers. 

"Fifty three times."

"Oh!" Tweed wrote that down in his book. "Great, thanks! Now what did you want?" 

"We wanted to know where the black market is." Luke said. 

Tweed's eyes crinkled in a smile that he didn't put on his lips. The boy knew something, that was a sure bet. 

"Well, if you put the raven's body together, he'll show you." The boy said mischievously.

That was not very useful at all...

".....Could you possibly eleborate." Layton asked. The boy rummaged through his pockets, pulling out a small coin and holding it out to Emmy. 

"This'll help you, but I can't say much more. Good luck!" And with that he was off, probably to hand in his homework. 

"....huh." Emmy inspected the coin, finding a bird wing emblazoned on it. "Oh, it's got a wing on it. Do you think....?"

Well, that note they picked up mentioned putting a body back together. Perhaps this was the key, somehow.

"Oh!" Said Luke. "We need more of those coins!"

"Yes, I suspect so." Layton agreed. "Perhaps some of the other children have them."

Walking around asking the same questions again wasn't his idea of progress, but they really didn't have much to work with here. 

They wandered back through the winding streets again. Luke was slower than Emmy, and the pendulum-like movement of his upper half as he walked was a little hard to get used to- more like being on a ship than a shoulder- but at least Luke was less likely to get him thrown about again. Layton crouched down, lowering his center of gravity to help with the sway. 

The first child they ran into wore a faded orange jumper and had a brown bird's nest of hair. He tilted his head up and peered down his nose at them. The raven incident seemed to have left all the children so far feeling much more smug than before.

"Excuse me, sir." Luke chirped, almost about to tip his hat like the professor did before realising that would dislodge him. "Do you know anything about the black market."

"Name's Badger, kid." The boy, who very much was also a kid, said. "Maybe I do. Who's askin'?"

That response threw the boy for a loop, and he was silent for a few seconds, beak slightly open. 

".....I... am."

Badger blew some hair out his face. "An' you are?"

Once again, Luke was not sure how to respond to that. "...Pi...Pygoscelis antarctica." He stumbled over the latin a little. "My name is Luke."

"He's the Mayor's son." Emmy helpfully added.

"....Right." Badger didn't sound convinced. "Well, I'll give you somethin if you give me somethin'."

"Is this more maths homework?" Emmy didn't sound happy at the prospect of that, though Layton couldn't see why, considering he did all the maths.

Badger laughed and shook his head, sitting down on the floor. 

"Nah, nah. C'mere."  He patted the floor opposite him. Luke sat down as best a penguin could, which wasn't much, and Layton cautiously made his way down onto the cobblestones.

Badger pulled some old coins out his pocket, laying them in a circle. Tails, head, head, tails, head, head, head.

"This has been bothering me for weeks." He sweeps a hand over the coins. "Seven coins, see? You've gotta make the numbers of head and tails equal, but you can only move one coin. Wren says it's easy, but I can't see the logistics in it. There's too many heads."

"....Oh, you have a point." Luke tapped one with his beak. "Two tails and five heads. You can't make that even by flipping one coin."

"But you're only allowed to move one of them." Badger said. "Doesn't make a lick of sense."

There was a way to make it work, though not a strictly fair way. 

Layton moved towards the coins. "Do you mind if I....?"

Badger shrugged. "If you can solve this, be my guest."

He picked up one of the head coins. It was about the size of a large pillow to him, and rather unwieldy to carry. It wasn't going that far, though. He hefted it over another head-up coin, landing it so the tails side was up.

"I think," He paused to take a breath. "That is your solution."

Badger's expression went from confusion to understanding to annoyance. "That.... those cheating little magpies!" He spat on the ground. Layton tried to avoid it. "They tried to pull the wool over on ol'badger!"

Layton was pretty sure badger was not old at all, but didn't bring that up. 

"Well," said Luke. "They didn't say you couldn't do that."

"Yeah, but it's underhanded!" Badger sighed and collected up his coins, pulling himself off the ground. Layton climbed back up onto Luke's hat, giving a nod of thanks to the boy as he did so. 

"Well, a deal's a deal. Here's what I got for ya. The door only opens when the pieces are together right." 

"What door?" Layton tried to pry for more information, but Badger shook his head. 

"What are you, a cop? I'm not doing your legwork for ya."

Emmy frowned. "Do you at least have a raven coin?"

"Pssh!" Badger spat on the floor once more. That seemed unhygenic. "Sling yer hook. If you want a raven that badly, go look around the chimneys. They nest up there."

"I... see." Well, that was useful, if not as much as they would have liked.

"Chimneys?" Emmy said, eyeing the buildings. If Layton didn't know any better he'd think she was looking for a parkour route. "I'll handle that! You two stay there!"

Oh, she was, wasn't she.

"Emmy-" it was too late to stop her. She was already running up a wall and disappearing above the wooden walkways.

"I thought she was your driver?" Luke said. 

Layton sighed. "You know, I thought that too." 

She... certainly was an odd driver. But, she was useful. He'd have to mention as much when they got back to Gressenheller.

After a few minutes she jumped back down to the ground level again, coat and hands covered in soot. 

"I found one!" She raised the coin triumphantly. Layton couldn't tell what was on it, given the layer of soot on the thing, but he took Emmy's word for it.

"Well, that's good. Shall we go, then?"

They wandered through to some slightly wider backstreets, stopping outside a bakery. Emmy looked at her reflection in the window and pulled out a cloth, wiping the worst of the soot from herself as best she could.

There was a muffled laugh from behind them. When the three of them turned around, a girl and a boy were stood there, snickering at Emmy's dusty hands.

The girl had a plaster on her hand. The skin around it was somewhat reddened. 

She gave Layton the dirtiest look. He politely avoided eye contact with her. 

Ah.

"Hey," Emmy didn't see the animosity between the two, which was for the best. "Do you know where any raven coins are?"

"Raven medals." The boy corrected. 

"So you do, then?"

"...uh," he realised immediately that he'd fallen in his own trap. "Nope! We don't know nothing!"

"So you do know something?" 

"I-"

"Shut it, Socket!" The girl shushed him. "Don't tell them about the umbrella!"

Emmy raised an eyebrow. "...You just told us about the umbrella."

"Wren!!" 

They weren't very good at this whole secrecy thing, were they. Granted, they were only children.

"Doesn't the sweet shop have an umbrella?" Luke said. Layton cringed at the idea of going back there. The lady would likely be rather unhappy about it.

"It does." He said. The two children pulled faces. That meant it had to be that umbrella. 

Oh, joy.

"Right." Layton sighed. "Let's go that way."

The three of them stopped at the edge of the buildings, peering cautiously towards the sweet cart. 

"What's the worst that could happen?" Emmy said as watched her packaging sour drops. There was a note of worry in her voice.

Layton thought about how she'd nearly crushed him.

"I don't think I want to know what the worst she could do is." He replied.

"...What if I go?" Luke offered. "She liked me..."

"Yeah, before we all got shouted at." The old woman turned in their direction. Emmy pushed them both behind the building again. "She might hate you too now." 

"....Oh. You're right..." Luke's confidence waned a little. "What should we do?" 

"Is there a way to get to the umbrella without her noticing?" Layton mused.

There was a moment of silence.

Emmy looked at him.

Oh. 

Great.

He sighed deeply, then adjusted his hat.

"I'll... go get it. You two stay here." He tried not to sound too unhappy about it; it wasn't their fault this woman was so hostile. 

He only hoped that he was not as fragile as an actual insect when it came to being crushed under something heavy.

He waited patiently until Taffy had her back turned to the road, and then scurried up to the cart as fast and quietly as he could, darting under the wheels when she turned around. He could hear her muttering to herself.

"Hm?"

It wasn't right to be so afraid of another human being, he thought. And yet so much of his life was flavoured with the knowledge of how easily everyone else around him could end him. 

He worked so hard just to be what he was, and yet no matter what, he was here, like this. An insect amongst giants.

He scuttled out from under the cart, looking up at the umbrella, and....

Ah.

Up inside the umbrella, a coin was sellotaped to one of the spurs. That was all very good if a normal person was looking for it, but how was someone his size meant to get up there? 

He examined the back of the cart. It had enough decorative edging over the wood to probably be climbable...

He took a moment to steel himself, before grabbing onto a wheel, pulling himself onto a spoke and from there onto the rim, then up to the cart itself. The climbing wasn't a problem, it was the being at the top without being noticed. The top of the cart was at Taffy's eye height, which was a bad place to be.

He peered over the top, waiting for her to turn away. Eventually, she did, and he climbed onto the roof of the cart, jumping up to reach the rim of the umbrella. He barely caught it, scrabbling to kick himself up onto a spoke. Which wasn't easy, because they were tiny and thin and smooth so it was like trying to climb a greased lamppost. 

Layton was at least thankful that the others could not see him here; this endeavour was utterly undignified, without any poise or grace whatsoever. The yelling from the sweet lady wasn't helping either.

Eventually he made his way to the top, but barely had time to rest before something was jabbed at him. While he had been focused on getting up, Taffy had noticed his clumsy struggling and was now trying to dislodge the beast attacking her umbrella. 

"GET OUT!"

Full of fear and adrenaline, Layton jumped for the coin, ripping it from the umbrella, falling down to the ground with it and the sellotape tangled in his arms. 

The metal pole was thwacked down where he had fallen but by then he was already gone, sprinting out of there as fast as his legs would take him. 

He made it back to the building, where Emmy immediately picked him up. He was too tangled up in tape to lash out.

"Got it." He mumbled.

"Good job, professor!" Emmy said, half relief and half delight. 

Luke tugged at the tape with his beak. "Do you want help with that?" He asked.

"Yes," Said Layton, "please."

It took a few minutes to carefully untangle and remove the sellotape without damaging him or his clothes, but eventually they were left with a ball of tape and one more raven coin, this one with a tail on.

"I would appreciate it if I never had to do that again." Layton sighed.

"How are we going to get past her when we leave?" Emmy asked, putting Layton back on her shoulder. He was too tired to argue.

"We could just go up the hill instead of taking the stairs." Luke suggested. It was a good idea. The less they had to do with that lady, the better.

They slunk back into the main market area, and Layton waved to the first boy he saw. It was time to be direct. There clearly weren't any police around, anyhow.

"Hello, you there." He called out. "Have you seen any raven medals?" 

The boy adjusted his glasses and wandered over. "Sure, but it ain't free."

Of course it wasn't. Nothing here was easy.

"Alright." He agreed. "What do you want?"

The boy picked up a plastic box from his stall. "A friend gave me this. It's a flip maze. I can't figure it out and it's bugging me to hell." His eyes flicked from the toy to the professor. "No offence, of course."

He shook his head. "None taken." 

"So, you think you could show me how it's done?"

Luke reached out for it, then looked back at Emmy. "Mr.Layton. Can I try it?" 

"If you'd like."

Luke nodded and took it in his flippers, tilting the maze around, following the ball around with his head. 

A few minutes passed as the boys passed it between each other, commenting on the best way to tilt it properly, before the ball finally clicked into place.

"Like that!" While he wasn't too cheerful, Luke did seem to enjoy little games like that. It was only a shame he didn't get to play games more often. A boy shouldn't have that much responsibility on his shoulders. 

"Good job, Luke." Layton said reassuringly. "Now, the information?"

"Right." The boy nodded. "Black market's up in market north. They sell weird antiques there. But you gotta be approved first."

Finally, useful information! "Approved?"

"The boss has to approve you. You've gotta bring something of value to the place. Four somethings." 

He handed Emmy another coin, or, medal. 

"Like this. Good luck."

And with that, the boy went back to his stall.

Thank goodness. Four meant they didn't need to do any more nonsense.

"Alright!" Emmy smiled. "To the north market, then!"

Their pace was not quite hurried, but certainly eager. Ready to be done with this all. 

As they approached market north, Layton clung to Emmy's shoulder tightly, just in case.

There was one girl in the north market area, grumbling to herself by a sewer entrance. 

"Hello, excuse me." Layton waved to her. "Do you know where the black market is?" 

"Do I LOOK like I know where the black market is?" She snapped. "Fuck off!"

"Oh!" Emmy covered Luke's ears. Or, she put her hands on his head, anyway. Penguins didn't have external ears. 

Luke had no idea what she was doing. "Um, we have the medals." He offered. 

The girl grumbled, eyeing him. Layton held out the medal he'd just collected as proof. 

"Hm? Oh. Goddamnit, you're who I was supposed to... what TOOK you so long?! I've been stood here for ages!" 

Emmy, ever defensive, raised her tone. "Well-!"

Layton cut her off. "Can you please help?"

"Just- just give 'em here." 

The girl snatched the medals from them, shoving them into a weird little wooden box with a raven head at the top. 

"You gotta slide the raven medals in here to put the raven together at the top." She tapped the top four squares. "And move those number blocks down to the bottom here." 

"Can we just go inside?" Asked Emmy. The girl glared at her in silence.

She sighed. "...alright, we'll do the puzzle." 

Luke decided by himself to take point, sliding along the pieces with his beak. It didn't take too long before he had them in their correct places.

He looked up at the others. "Now what?" 

"I let you in, I guess." She moved out the way, and jabbed her thumb back to the manhole cover. 

"Down there."

This was suspicious,  but what else could they do? 

Luke tried to lift it, but couldn't get his flippers around the latch, so Emmy lifted it instead.

A long rope ladder stretched down into a well lit cave, carved walls, terracotta floors and a flowing canal alongside.

Ah. Another giant fall.

"Um," Said Luke. "I... I've never climbed a ladder before...." 

His nervousness was completely understandable, because Layton wasn't sure if he could make it down that ladder. 

"....hm." Emmy peered down at the ladder, thinking. 

"Why don't you jump down, and I'll catch you?" 

Luke made a loud squawk, feathers puffing up with fear. "You... want me to jump? That far?"

Penguins may have been known for being sturdy, but that was a long fall onto a hard stone, and he was a young boy.

He tried to think of any other way to get luke down there. He didn't think Emmy could carry him down a ladder safely...

"...Luke." he said. "It's okay if you don't want to. You can stay up here. We'll come back as soon as we can." 

"I...." 

"Well look." Emmy put Layton onto the ground. "I'll go down first, then you can decide, alright?" 

She started climbing down. The ladder seemed reliable, at least, but... by the time she was at the bottom, it looked a far jump.

"Um..." Luke looked to Layton for support. He patted the boy.

"Luke, I can assure you you won't be in any danger, but it's okay to be scared." He wished he could help the boy. Wished he could carry him down.

It was unfair for both of them, being like this.

"I..." He seemed very unsure. "It's so far..." 

"It's okay. There's no pressure, Luke. We'll be okay either way."

Luke nodded, and tried to steel himself. 

"I'll... I'll go down." He said. "I'll go down."

"Okay." Layton patted him again. "Be careful."

Luke moved to the edge of the manhole, peering down into it. Emmy seemed so far below. She smiled reassuringly. 

He closed his eyes and stepped over the edge.

"aaaaAAAAAAA- OOF!" 

A scream, a squeak and a honk.

Layton could barely bring himself to peer over the edge, but when he did, gave a sigh of relief. He had been caught safely. Yes, Emmy was now collapsed under him, brought down by the weight of a falling penguin, but Luke was safe. 

Layton slid down the rope, checking on them both.

"Are you okay?" 

"Eugh...." Emmy groaned, waving her hand. "I'm.... fine..."

Luke slowly sat up, dusting himself off. "Oh... I made it? I made it!" He seemed surprised that he was okay, but once he noticed Emmy he immediately got up, patting her face with his flippers. 

"Miss Altava? Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head, not wanting to upset the boy. It wasn't his fault. 

"It's fine, Luke, don't worry."

They gave Emmy some time to breathe and get some feeling back in her arms before they continued along the path. There was no chance of being stealthy; the slapping of Luke's webbed feet on the wet tiling was echoing around the cave like drums.

The lights led them into a larger chamber with small stalls in it. All sorts of items piled haphazardly on blankets, lit under a halogen glow. 

How had they got lights working down here, anyway?

Up ahead a winding staircase had been cut into the stone, leading up to a giant, formidable set of doors.

"....I would imagine," Layton muttered, "That is where we will find our auctioneers."

Luke stared up at the doors apprehensively. "...Oh...." 

It was a little... concerning. But they hadn't come this far to stop now.

"Emmy, could you please....?" She was, of course, the only person strong enough to move the doors between them.

"Of course, Professor!" She walked over to the doors and pushed them open, walking them all into the dark of...

Well, just the dark, really.

It took a second for Layton to acclimate to it, but it wasn't as if he was blinded by the dark.

A theatre stretched in front of them, seats sliding down into the dark, with the black raven walking onto the stage, feeling along the wall.

"Hey!" Said Luke. "The Black Raven!" 

Said Black Raven seemed surprised they could see him in the dark. It raised a hand, and the lights were turned on.

"Why didn't you just keep the lights on?" Asked Luke.

"...Well, I like to make a dramatic entrance." The Raven muttered. "How was I to know you could see in the dark?"

"ANYWAY," The raven continued. "Glad to see you made it. Good job! But what do you want with me?"

"We're looking for an ancient flute." Layton explained. "Apparently one was recently sold here."

"My my!" The raven laughed, raising a sleeve to his mouth. "I wonder how you learned that. I certainly didn't tell anyone to tell you." 

Luke tried not to make eye contact with the raven, and kept a flipper over his bag.

The raven seemed very entertained by this all.

"Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't." His voice was smug and gleeful, enjoying playing with them. "But why would I tell you?"

Ah. Like the rest of the market, there had to be an exchange.

"Well, if you tell us about the flute, we won't tell your parents." 

Ten seconds of silence passed.

"What?!" The black raven stomped a foot on the ground. "How dare you! You don't know what you're talking about!"

"Yes, I do." He climbed up onto a chair. "I know all about all of you."

The raven stomped his foot again. It reminded him of Luke. "Preposterous! You don't know anything about us! Me!"

There it was. Just as he thought, the inexperience of a child.

"You tell me what I want to know, I won't tell the rest." He tipped his hat politely to the raven.

"Huh?" Said Emmy.

"What? Who's the raven?" Asked Luke.

"....you two can't tell?" Layton's antennae twitched. "It's quite simple. The raven appeared to jump from one door to another, yes? In reality, wouldn't people panic if a random stranger was jumping into their house? And people can't teleport. So it was people who knew the place, and multiple people, all coordinating their escapes. They're just wearing the same outfit. Besides. One of them had a wounded hand and none of the rest of them did."

Admittedly that was his fault, but he wouldn't say that out loud. 

"And a child had the same wound. Besides, how could this market be run solely by children, with all these children knowing how to get to the black market, having the medals and the block puzzles for it, without being a part of it? How could they all disappear when the raven came if they weren't involved? If one raven was a child, the others had to be children too, because no adult would think a child pretending to be them would work. And adults wouldn't just let children run a black market with them; adults would either take their share or give the children a reduced role, wheras children would share their space with children easily."

"....That's... true." Emmy agreed. It all made too much sense. "And if the market children weren't involved, why would they tell us about it? The black market would cut into the regular market's profits then, and they wouldn't like that."

"Exactly!" Layton clicked his fingers, as best he could. "It doesn't make financial or logistical sense if they aren't the market children!"

The Black Raven stood there, stunned. After a few seconds he nodded, and with one deft sweep of his hand pulled off his costume, revealing a young teen in a red waistcoat, a cream scarf and a blue hat. 

"...You are clever, aren't you?" He sounded half annoyed, half impressed. "I'm Crow, I lead the Ravens. Keep that to yourself, won't you?" 

What an apt name.

"Of course." Layton nodded. "Now, the flute?"

Crow put a hand to his chin, thinking. "Hmm, I think we'd better go to the archives for this." He replied, slipping behind the heavy curtain at the back of the theatre. 

The three of them followed him to find a dingy little storeroom full to the brim with paintings and canvas-covered sculptures. Several massive filing cabinets stood at the back, and crow had one drawer open, leafing through the contents. 

"You know, when the other lot told me about you, I thought they were having me on." He mused, as he worked his way through the archeological section. "Two birds and a bug... but here you are. I have to wonder what the world's coming to. No offense."

"It's fine." Said Layton. It was actually not fine, but frankly today had been rough enough already. "Your organisation is to be commended."

"Well, naturally." Crow pulled out a file, scanning it. "Black markets are dangerous things. If we didn't keep exacting records, we'd be in deep trouble. Now, I think this is what you're interested in? Antique flute, local heritage, sold one year ago. Notable for looking similar to descriptions of the legendary..."

"The Spectre's Flute!" Luke said. "The one that's been driving the spectre in to attack the town!"

Crow looked at Luke, and something crossed his face. It seemed he had not paid much attention to the old thing, and for a brief moment it looked as though he realised the gigantic consequences his actions had quite possibly caused. 

He very quickly composed himself again, though his grip on the file was viciously tight.

"....It was bought by a... Barde from Highyard Hill. Land baron, deep pockets. Lived in Barde Manor. Looked down his nose at the poor."

"Well, he sounds like a good candidate for causing this trouble, then!" Emmy raised a hand dramatically. "Let's go see what we can get out of him!"

Crow shook his head, pulling his scarf a little further up his face. 

"Unless you've got a shovel and a psychic you won't be getting anything out of him other than worms. Guy died about a year back."

"....He died RIGHT AFTER he bought the Spectre's Flute???" Luke seemed to be getting a little annoyed by this boy. "Didn't you think that was a bad sign?"

"Hey!" Crow held up his hands defensively. "I don't keep track of buyers' lives. He was an old man, and this was way before this spectre nonsense! Besides, everyone knows to stay away from Barde Manor." 

"They do?" How curious.

Luke shuffled in place, more uncomfortable than angry now. "They say the calamity witch lives there." He muttered. 

Crow raised an eyebrow. "How do you know about her?" He asked. 

"It's not a very big town..." Luke said. "I do hear things."

"He is a local." Layton affirmed. "Hence why we asked him to help guide us around."

"You're.... are you sure?" Crow didn't buy it. Luke slapped a foot on the ground.

"Yes, I'm sure! I just.... I don't get out much."

"....Right." The teen decided not to argue. "Anyway, the dead guy's daughter, Arianna, she's cursed. If you slag her off, something goes wrong for you." 

Layton wasn't sure why anyone should be insulting a grieving child in the first place, frankly. "....I see." 

"Nobody wants to go near that place." Crow said. "Why'd anyone want to go bother a witch?"

What was this, the dark ages?

"Right," said Layton, unbothered by the warnings, "I think our next step must be to venture there and ask Arianna some questions, then. Thank you for your help, Crow." 

Crow pulled a face. 

"Well, if that's what you've set your heart on, but don't say I didn't warn you..."

"Indeed." Layton turned to Emmy. "I believe it's time to leave. Would you mind...?" 

"Yep!" 

She was, after all, the only one of them who could actually open those large doors.

Chapter Text

With the help of some extra rope and some sturdy knots they managed to make it out of the black market. Making it out of the regular market was somehow even more stressful than hoisting a child up a sewer as it involved removing parts of a fence and helping a penguin to slowly climb a grassy hill so they didn't have to face the rage of an old lady. 

Things were very... very complicated in this town.

"Luke," Said Layton, once they'd gotten back across the detestable rope bridges, "You wouldn't know the way to Barde Manor, would you?"

Luke thought about that. "...On land? I'm not sure..." 

Well, that was a weird reply. "Yes, on land."

"Um...." Luke looked around, then pointed with a flipper. "I think it's that one up on top of the hill there. Up north."

"....Right. I see." Layton tried not to look disappointed in that answer. The house on top of the hill was so far away it was nearly invisible through the fog. They were to make it up there?

Well, he supposed it was a better answer than no answer at all. 

"Luke," Emmy said, looking down at the boy and his tiny little legs, clearly having the same thoughts as Layton. "That's... pretty far. Will you be alright walking that distance?" 

"Of course." He fluffed up his feathers. "Why wouldn't I be?"

She opened her mouth, then shut it again. 

"Nevermind." 

"I'm sure we can stop on the way." Layton assured. "To get more information, of course." 

"Right." Emmy nodded, and quickly changed the subject to avoid Luke asking why they thought he wouldn't be able to go so far. "You know, it's pretty impressive how well this town is doing considering, you know, the giant monster." 

"Oh," Luke nodded. "That's thanks to Mr.Greppe. He's really rich, he keeps rebuilding people's houses and helping their businesses." 

That was... surprising. Emmy raised an eyebrow.

"One man has been keeping a whole town afloat?" She asked, incredulous.

It was a miracle what wealthy people could accomplish when they weren't focused on their own profits.

The professor was sure if someone as wealthy as Greppe had ended up in his situation, he'd've had the research funds to find a way back to humanity in a week... 

"Well, he isn't doing everything by himself. He's hiring builders and people." Luke sighed. "He... he doesn't like my father. Or..... me. At all. But he likes the town."

"Hang on." It was necessary to interrupt. "What exactly is his problem with you?"

Luke was just a boy, how could anyone hold a grudge against him?

"Well." Luke shuffled his feet, dipping his head down and mumbling his words into his chest so fast they rolled into one. "HethinksI'mawasteofspace."

Layton considered that getting into an altercation with the man keeping Misthallery alive would be a bad idea. However, that was no thing at ALL to say to a child.

"Excuse me?" Emmy was equally appalled.

"Well." He continued to mumble. "There's a lot of children um. Without homes or families and um, especially now how things are." The more Luke spoke, the more uncomfortable and dejected the poor boy sounded. "He thinks that my dad adopting a penguin and. Spending his money on making life comfortable for, um, me instead of taking care of the actual children is-"

"Luke." Layton tapped the boy's shoulder to get his attention. "Luke. Look at me." 

The boy did just that. Layton had to move to the side to avoid being taken out by his beak, but once he had the boy's attention he put a hand on either side of his face.

"Luke." He spoke softly, but with a tone of absolute seriousness. "You are different, but that does not make you any less a person than any human being. You deserve to have parents. You deserve to be taken care of. Greppe is not only wrong, but he is being cruel to you by insisting otherwise. You have every right to live comfortably and every right to be here. You musn't let anyone tell you otherwise, okay?"

If penguins were capable of tears, Luke might have cried. As it was, he just gave a very quiet "okay". 

Layton removed his hands from the boy's face, and patted him on the head reassuringly. Poor thing. No child should ever be told their life's worth can be compared.

"Where is this Greppe, anyway?" Asked Emmy. Her tone was merely curious, but the look in her eye made Layton concerned they were about to make yet another enemy in the town.

"Oh, um." Luke turned his attention to his satchel for a moment, then back to her. "He likes that restraunt we went to yesterday.  Um. Paddy's place. He might be there." 

"Right." Emmy glanced in the direction of the restaurant. She was mapping this place out well in her mind. "Want to take a detour that way, then?"

"...." Layton didn't want to upset the boy any more than he already was. However, if someone didn't correct this man's faulty assumptions, who would? If he didn't apologise sometime, Luke might spend his whole childhood thinking he didn't deserve his space.

"Would you be alright with that, Luke?" He asked the boy. Luke gave a small shrug.

"I'm okay." 

"Alright! Let's go!" Perhaps Emmy found some joy in sticking up for the so called little man. She did seem to spend a lot of her time defending the two of them. And now once again, she was raring to go, dragging them both along to the café like a bloodhound.

Inside, the chef avoided eye contact with them. Looking at them would mean admitting they were real. He'd prefer to think of them as part of the same collective hallucination of the spectre.

The surly old man in the restraunt did the exact opposite. He slowly turned his head and made direct eye contact with Luke, before shifting his withering gaze to Emmy. 

Luke's feathers puffed up. Emmy was entirely unfazed. 

How could they start this politely....?

Layton cleared his throat to get the man's attention. The man looked down at him. Not just in the literal sense, mind, but in the phrasal verb sense as well, in that he clearly thought no more of Layton than he did an actual insect. 

He was not unused to this sort of look, but still it chilled him to the bone. Not that he had any left now, but...

"Mr.Greppe, I presume?" He asked politely with a tip of his hat.

The man gave a vaguely amused snort. 

"Looking like that I wouldn't think you the type to presume." He sneered, haughty as a king. "But that's me. Why do you care?" 

"We need to talk." Layton said, trying to sound as composed as possible.

"Talk?" Greppe scowled, frowning so deeply his eyes almost disappeared beneath his furrowed brows. "You think I'll talk to that fake mayor's newest talking animal?" Layton gawped, but the man just kept talking. "Don't make me laugh. The town is being DESTROYED and that graverobber is spending his money on circ-"

Luke was shuddering so much that Layton feared he'd fall off his shoulders. This was just too much. He was about to raise his voice at the man, but Emmy spoke up first.

"Professor." She said, with strained politeness. "Can you take Luke outside for a moment? Me and Mr.Greppe are going to have a word."

Greppe scoffed. "You think I'd talk to-"

"Er, yes." Layton quickly agreed, tugging at Luke's bow tie to get his attention. "Let's let Miss Altava have her privacy." Whatever was about to happen, Luke didn't need to see it.

Luke was all too happy to leave the building, and it wasn't long before the chef came outside too, looking as if this was more stressful for him than the night the spectre came through.

Then the raised voices started.

"MISTER GREPPE-"

The chef side eyed Layton. They shared an awkward glance. Paddy certainly didn't agree with this mess at all, but even he knew the importance of protecting a boy's feelings. He slowly put his hands over Luke's ear holes.

Greppe was then subject to calls against his decency as a modern man, a rather bleak account of what it was like to grow up without parents, an insult against his ability to empathise with anyone other than himself, claims about how unhappy his life must be and accusations about his character as someone who enjoys making children feel guilty for being born wrong. 

It was... rather thorough. Layton wondered if perhaps Greppe had hit a nerve somewhere. 

There really was nothing to be done but to wait uncomfortably until Emmy came out the door again. 

She dusted down her shoulders, took a deep breath and steadied herself. "Right, let's go." She said, as if nothing had happened at all.

It was probably best to also pretend nothing had happened.

Paddy removed his hands from Luke's head and slunk back inside, probably to apologise to his only customer. Luke nervously started hopping towards Highyard Hill. 

"Mister Layton," He asked quietly as they walked. "Why did he call my father a graverobber?"

Ah.

"Well," Layton started, though he was unsure how to finish that answer at first. He hadn't seen Clark in years. Had he done something objectionable like that? Surely not. That had to be some sort of exaggeration. 

He decided to go with the simplest, kindest answer.

"Your father was once an archeologist," He explained, "and though good archeologists only seek to understand and preserve the culture of the past, the concept of digging up things that belonged to dead people can make some... unhappy."

"Oh." Luke seemed relieved by that answer. 

The question that he couldn't speak was burning in his throat. The inevitable question that was too much to ask the boy, but he knew he had to know eventually. 

What had Clark done for Luke to be so unhappy with him?

But he couldn't say it. He wouldn't. Luke thought the world was ending, he didn't need to have his wounds torn open at the same time. Ignorance was, at least this time, mercy.

Once they got past the archway, Luke pulled out his little map again, burying his beak in it to guide them along. 

The winding roads became steeper and less travelled, less people staring, more empty space for thoughts to fill. The small draining canal widened, spreading out into something like a venetian canal.

Dangerous, when you were a small insect. Beautiful, if you were a penguin.

"Highyard hill... should.... be just up here." Luke said, which wasn't quite as confident as you'd hope for in a guide.

"Oh," Emmy looked around, eyes peeled. "The witch's home turf, huh?" 

Luke didn't look up from the map. "You think she's a witch?"

Witches probably weren't real. But someone calling themselves a witch while using technology to ruin people's lives... well, that was more than possible. 

"I don't know." Emmy was politely honest. "What do you think?"

"She can't be." He replied, voice a quiet, wet mumble. "I know she's not like that."

Layton wondered if Luke knew the girl, or if he just naturally saw the good in people. He's not sure how they'd have met if Luke never left his house, but then he didn't know how Luke knew his way around the town so well either, or how he knew the local gossip. 

The boy was an enigma. 

There was a brief silence, before Emmy decided to change the subject. 

"This area is really pretty, isn't it?"

"Oh," in his opinion, the buildings were far too tall and spindly, the canals far too wide and the streets far too narrow, clearly a place built for the rich and not the sensible. But insulting Luke's home town would be remiss. "Yes, very nice." 

Luke seemed happy they liked the area. 

"The police station is nearby." He said, tapping at his map. "As well as where they're trying to find the Golden Garden." 

Ah. Yes. He'd heard about that awful thing. Yet another example of Azran "Wonders" that people were happy to dig up. Every single piece of their culture was a different pandora's box, with their own unique dooms inside them. 

Layton would bet his hat that the Spectre was connected to the Azran dig here. 

A small part of him, hidden and unbidden, was satisfied by that, by the idea that finally people might see the consequences of uncovering more of this accursed civilisation, that maybe someone other than him could face the punishment, someone other then him could warn others about the price, someone who people might listen to.

But then he remembered those flattened buildings. The way Luke had cried out. The children. 

They didn't deserve this. Nobody deserved this. 

Emmy said something about Luke. Layton was too caught up in his thoughts to listen, but the movement under his feet as Luke started walking again pulled him back. 

The canal that stretched into existence shrunk again, slinking away to the side as the street turned into a large circular plaza. A street in every cardinal direction, the red stones ringed by tall buildings, all diamond windows and whitewash, leering over the few things in it. Two women conversing, and a giant marble spike. 

It felt empty. It was empty. 

"Wow!" Emmy spun around, taking pictures of everything. "This is huge!"

A great place for a giant monster to appear...

"This is the grand plaza." Luke explained, orientating himself to his map. "And up there..." he gestured with a flipper to the north, "Should be the dam. Barde manor is a little past there."

"The..." Layton followed the path of his pointing, finally noticing the immense walls of stone in the distance. The first was large enough it could be a castle. The one behind it stretched across a whole valley. 

Layton shuddered involuntarily at the sight of it. So much water. All of a sudden those walls didn't seem nearly large or thick enough to him. Was this where all the town's canals came from? The ticking clock of the inevitable?

"Professor?" Luke said. It seemed they'd been talking while he was preoccupied. 

He needed to stop doing that. It wasn't responsible, not when there was a child with them.

"My apologies." He tipped his hat politely. "I was thinking about something."

"Anything important?" Asked Emmy.  He shook his head.

"Not really. Just... that dam over there..."

Luke seemed to understand his point, even if he didn't have the same hangups with water. 

"Once the Spectre's destroyed the town, the dam will probably be what it goes for next." The boy mumbled, eyes wide. "Everything will get washed away, and it'll go to the next town. And the next...." 

The last thing he needed was another doom spiral. Layton quickly patted the boy's shoulder. 

"Luke, it won't be like that." He reassured. "I promise. We'll fix this."

How they would fix this, he had no idea. But being honest wouldn't help. The boy needed hope, not the bleak truth of how much a person could actually manage.

"You can trust the professor!" Emmy tried to cheer him up too. "We'll have this mystery solved in no time! Now, Barde Manor is up north, right?"

"...Yeah." Luke nodded. He seemed to be comforted, or at least was pretending to be. "Up north."

"Let's go, then!" And with that, Emmy was off, and Luke followed her. Layton was starting to get used to the swaying movement as he waddled. It was sort of like being on a horse. A slow horse, but a horse.

The street wound up to the edge of the dam, where the stone wall had been supplemented with wood. That was not very reassuring. 

Less reassuring was the policeman standing in the middle of the road, pacing back and forth.

"Are we not allowed past...?" Layton wondered. 

"We should be." Luke folded up his map to get a better look at the area around him. "No, this shouldn't be part of the evacuation area." 

"I'll ask!" Emmy said, before marching up to the man and striking up a conversation with him. 

Luke moved closer to hear what they were saying. 

"-So, y'see, I've gotta organise all these family portraits for the wife. But she wants them in chronological order, and I don't know-"

"So can we get past-"

"And you know, she said you can tell easily because every generation just has one thing in common, and I'm like, "really? They're all wearing the same hat!" And then she gives me the dirtiest look, granted maybe making jokes at her family wasn't the best idea, you know i think she misses her brothers, but they've moved so far away-"

"We really need to get moving, sir-" 

"And I mean you know I never knew my parents so maybe it's just what it's like when you have a family to remember-" 

"Alright, fine, do you have pictures of them?"

"Oh, yeah, I took a picture of them here, so it's..." 

"Right..." Emmy peered at the man's photo. "You want grey hat, red hat, navy, light blue, blue, I think." 

"Oh? Oh! Right you are! Well, that solves that! I'll go tell my wife!" 

The policeman marched off. Emmy looked back at the other two. 

"Shouldn't he have been evacuating people?"

Layton shook his head. "In my life, I have not generally known the police to be particularly... efficient." That would be the politest way to frame it. Luke relied on their help, after all. 

"Anyway, now he's out of the way..." 

The teracotta roads turned to flagstone, winding up and above the river, with absolutely no handrails, which was just a horrible act of safety all around, but Layton chose not to mention it.

The path took them past what seemed to be Bucky's boathouse, judging by the sign, and from there... 

Ah. 

A small stone bridge right next to the stone monolith holding back all that water.

It wasn't that Layton didn't like water. Water was a natural part of existence, it was what made tea, it was... well. Water was important. But there was just... well, this town was so full of open water with absolutely no safety around it to stop someone very small being flung into it by accident. This would be fine if he was, say, a mouse, who had ample lung space. But unfortunately centipedes had no ability to hold their breath, and no ability to shut the many spiracles across their body, so anything larger than a fountain to fall into was certain death, and not a very nice way to do it. It was something he always had to keep in mind.

"What a dam!" Emmy praised, taking a picture of the structure. "This must be how all the water gets into town, right?" 

"There's a lake behind it." Luke nodded. He didn't notice how tightly Layton held on as they crossed the bridge.

Layton stayed silent until the path began to get overgrown. A blue rusty fence barely held up a battered gate, one nearly entirely off it's hinges. The stairs behind it were covered in moss and fallen leaves.

"How did things get so..." Hadn't the man only been dead a year? 

"...things change." Luke muttered, taking the steps slowly, one at a time. At the top was a crumbling windmill and a dense forest, heavy with mist, likely rolling in from the lake. "This place used to be beautiful. But the Mr.Barde died, and..."

"How could somewhere fall apart so quickly?" 

Emmy seemed shocked by the state of the place. Layton couldn't blame her.

"Grief ruins everything." Luke replied. He had eyes only for the manorhouse. "Losing people you care about makes everything around you as broken as you are."

He knew this place, didn't he?

The forest that had once been a garden became thicker and thicker as they wandered through it. Luke was right; this was a place knotted with grief. Sorrow was tangled into the rosebushes and trees like ivy around a wall, leaves and branches blocking out the light all around. 

It certainly wasn't easy to find their way out of it. That was also rather like grieving. Layton, of all people, knew how inescapable that was. But these were, after all, just plants. 

After some time in which Emmy once again proved how invaluable she was (especially with a penknife) they pulled themselves through, squaring up with the unloved building ahead. 

The stone was nearly overcome with greenery, towers and parapets slumping under the weight of it all. The walls were crumbling, the windows musty and nearly opaque. 

In short, an absolute mess.

"Well, this is very gothic." Emmy put her penknife away, looking a lot less enthusiastic than she usually did. "Are you sure people still live here?" 

"Of course they do!" Luke fluffed his feathers up, then glanced up at the windows. "Well, they probably still do. I think..."

Something moved at the window ahead. Layton looked up, but it was still once again.

"Did you see that?" Emmy did not seem very pleased about being watched by a possible witch. Who could blame her?

"Well," time to change the subject. "Let's find the front door." Layton suggested. Luke hopped along the steps, towards the oak door. It was in better condition than anything else here.

"Do we have to?" She really was reluctant. How odd. "I don't fancy walking around some haunted house-"

There was a shuffling sound from behind them, and suddenly the door was pulled open. A short old man with as much beard as body and a flat cap pulled down over his face glowered at them. Or, at least, he was giving the impression of glowering at them, but barely any of his face was visible.

"Oy! Whadder you young'uns want?" He snapped. 

"Young...?" Well, that was... an odd thing to be called. He certainly wasn't used to it. Not... bad, mind. 

"Um," Luke shuffled forwards. "Do you know if miss Arianna's home?" 

"Why is that any of your business?" The old man didn't seem... surprised to see a talking penguin, or an insect in a top hat. Just annoyed. 

"Well, we... we wanted to talk to her." Luke seemed somewhat... sheepish? Ashamed? Nervous? Perhaps all three.

"We're investigating the Spectre." Layton helpfully offered. "We wanted to ask her about a flute that her father..." wait a minute. What was this old man doing here? "Who are you, if i might ask?"

"I'm Seamus, the gardener!" He snapped. "And the mistress has no interest in meeting with the likes of you! Go away!" 

Gardener? Well, he surely wasn't a good one. This place was a shambles.

Luke opened his beak to speak, but all that came out was a choked sputter, and Seamus slammed the door in his face. 

Oh, dear. 

"Luke, are you alright?" 

He took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm... fine."

There was surely something going on with Luke and this place. Maybe asking could wait until things were less... upsetting for him to ask.

"That's odd, isn't it?" Layton said. "He's odd, right?" 

"The gardener?" Emmy asked. He nodded.

"Why have a gardener if he doesn't...." he gestured to the mess around them. "Garden?" 

"I thought Mr.Barde's staff all got let go after he died..." Luke mumbled. 

"Oh! What if he's a fake gardener holding her hostage?" Emmy suggested. 

That... sounded a little off, but...

"Well, I suppose that is one possibility-"

"No!" Luke immediately started hopping down the stairs. "We can't let him do that! We have to help them!" 

Before Layton really had time to understand what was happening Luke and Emmy were already trying to get into the manor through the tower entrance. 

"Um," he raised his voice a little bit. "You two are aware this is breaking and entry, yes?" He was meant to be the responsible adult here, and it wouldn't do to let Clark's child get in trouble...

"There's an innocent girl in there!" Emmy said. "You can't leave her in there! Doesn't your duty as a gentleman mean you should be helping her?"

"We can't let them get hurt!" Luke agreed. What did he mean by them? "We have to help!"

"I..." Well, all the police were busy, so it was unlikely they'd get caught, and it wasn't the first time he'd been in trouble with the law. "Luke, are you-"

"Come on!" The door was unlocked, and Luke pushed inside.

It seemed the Triton streak of stubbornness was still good and strong.

The tower was small and cramped, with possibly the most unsafe looking spiral staircase possible leading upwards. Thin stone slabs jutting out with far too wide spaces between them. If any sort of safety inspector saw this they would probably cry.

It was enough that Emmy grabbed Luke's jacket as he hopped forwards, holding him back from climbing them. A human climbing these would be bad enough, let alone a penguin.

"Luke, wait a minute!" She said. "Why don't you and the professor stay here, let me go up and check that it actually connects first?" 

"I know it connects!" Luke honked. "I've-"

"Well, I think Emmy should go and check anyway." Layton insisted. "Just in case there's anyone up there. She can get up and down a lot faster than we could..."

Luke considered this, remembering her reckless movement across rooftops and walls. "...alright." He nodded. Emmy smiled and patted him on the shoulder, before leaping up the stairs like some sort of human goat. 

Humans weren't all this acrobatic, were they? Emmy was, and those children had been, and when he was younger he and-

No. No. He couldn't think about that.

And it had to be a nurtured quality, he thought. It had to be, lest his envy would coil up in his spine again like the thorny plants in this forest here. 

"It's odd." Luke tore him from his thoughts again. It kept happening today. It was not a good sign. "Normally, I mean, these fires should be lit..."

"Fires?" He turned his attention to the direction Luke was facing, at the little braziers in the alcoves. This also seemed like a huge safety hazard. 

Layton silently wondered if Mr.Barde died because his house was built to kill people. If the rest of the house was like this, it very well could be haunted. 

"Why have so many fires here?" He asked.

"I'm not sure." Said Luke. "Maybe they were symbolic."

There was a loud scuffle, something that sounded like a swear word, and then a rain of moss, ivy and sods of grass fell down from above. 

"EMMY?" Luke shouted, causing Layton to flinch.

"I'M FINE!" Emmy shouted back. The echo bounced all along the walls, along with another hail of plant life. "IT'S JUST A LITTLE OVERGROWN!"

Layton sighed, chewing at his cheeks with irritation. "Need I remind you we're trying NOT to be cau-"

"SOR-" Emmy started apologising, then realised how loud she was being and lowered her voice. "sorry!"

Luke brushed some clumps of moss off the alcoves. 

"Mr.Layton, do you have a lighter?" He asked.

Layton got off his shoulder, climbing over to the alcove. These appeared to be gas fires... not very safe.

"Luke, my boy," he tried to sound as gentle as possible about stating the obvious. "I'm a little too small to carry a lighter." 

"Oh." Luke was silent for a few seconds. "I don't think I have one." 

"....no." Layton examined the brazier. There was a little dial on it which might serve to turn on the gas, but frankly turning it on would be a little reckless. 

A clatter from above, and Emmy came hopping back down. How did she manage that so gracefully?

"It's blocked off! There's no entrance!" She said.

Luke sputtered, slapping a foot on the ground. "What? What do you mean?" He sounded shocked.

"It's just a wall, and some graffiti with lamps and numbers." Emmy frowned.

"Oh! I remember that." Luke took a moment to think before speaking again. "It's.... three, one two three?"

"I think it was four, one two three...." Emmy looked at them both. "What now?"

"Well..." they could not break into someone's house. That was an option. However, they wouldn't take it...

Hmm. Lamps. A thought passed through his mind.

"...Emmy, you wouldn't happen to have a lighter, would you?" 

"No," she rummaged in her pockets. "But I've got some matches. Would that do?"

"I think that would do." He waved her over to the alcoves. "These fires here, with the dials, do you think you could light them in that order?"

She smiled, pulling out her matchbook. "I could try!" 

Once she got closer, Layton reached for her sleeve, climbing up her arm and to her shoulder. Ungainly and ungentlemanly, but if those fires lit when he was so close he'd surely singe his antennae. 

"Right.... four, one, two, three...." Emmy muttered, before starting to dial up the gas and light them.

"...."

A moment of silence passed by.

"Now what?" She asked.

"Well..." Layton started to suggest they should leave, but then he noticed a vibration starting up, that soon turned into a harsh grinding, stone against stone.

"What..."

"Oh!" Luke brightened up. "I know what happened!" And before Emmy could grab him again he'd started scrabbling up the steps. It was in equal manners reassuring and terrifying watching him go; penguins were well designed to scrabble up cliffs and rocky outcrops, but at the same time, watching him all belly and wing two floors up on tiny steps when Layton had promised to keep him safe... well, that was putting a terror deep in his chest. 

And there was something horrible about the way he was scrabbling at the stone, reaching up it, like...

Like...

He didn't notice Emmy had taken him up the stairs until Luke was back on his feet again, and the tension in his throat calmed down.

He assumed that his silence had gone safely unnoticed. The door opened into light, light and safety, sun streaming in wide windows. Inside, the house was so.... homely. Warm. Nice. 

Luke pattered ahead safely and confidently. 

Emmy let Luke get a little way ahead, then spoke in a mumble, making sure only the man on her shoulder could hear. "Want me to warn you next time I'm going to go up high?"

Ah.

He pulled his hat down over his face in... shame, maybe. Embarrasment. "Yes, please." He responded, voice as low as hers.

It was probably too much to ask that she carried Luke down the stairs when they left.

"Now, this door here should lead further in..." Luke, blind to their moment of discussion, soldiered on. Layton was sure that he'd been here before, definitely more than once. He moved like he knew the place, if not perfectly. 

"Oh!" He slapped his feet against the floor to get their attention. Since the floor was carpeted, it made absolutely no difference. "The lock is a puzzle lock!" 

"I see." How curious. "Well, why don't we solve it?" That would surely calm them all down a bit. 

Emmy hustled over to peer at the lock. It had some symbols on it, and maths.

☆×☆=♧

☆×♧=◇♤

♤×◐=○▽

And then two number dials with ◐ and then ▽ above them.

".....Huh." Emmy stared at it. 

"I think...." Said Luke, "It's algebra. We need to find the value of half-moon and upside down triangle..."

"Well, each number is a single digit, we can assume." Layton said, though they couldn't necessarily assume that, it would just make the most sense. Sometimes puzzles didn't make sense. Sometimes they weren't fair at all.

"Right, so every number is something between one and nine..." Emmy pointed at the star. "Well, that one can't be anything higher than three, because once you get to four times four, you're into two digits!"

"Oh, right." Luke nodded. "But it needs to make two digits when it's times by whatever the answer is, but it can't be a number with the numbers it is in it."

"Well, three times nine is twenty seven." Emmy pulled out a notepad to write this down in. "So, they could be three and nine, which would make diamond two and spade seven. Now seven needs to be timesed by a number that's either four, five, six, or eight, and it has to make a number that's two digits, and not with any numbers we've seen."

Luke nodded, and started tapping at the shapes.

"Can't be four, that's twenty eight. Can't be five, that's thirty five, six is fourty two, and that can't work because then it would have a diamond, and it doesn't. Eight would be fifty six... fifty...." 

He chuttled, excited by the epiphany. 

"Eight! Moon is..." he started fumbling with the dials, pushing them through their numbers with his clumsy wings. "Eight, and then the triangle is six!" 

As he rolled it along, the doorhandle clicked, a very satisfactory sound.

"We're in!" Luke crowed. He would be a terrible burglar, but it was good to see him happy. 

Emmy grinned and put away her notebook, as it was clearly not needed anymore. "Great! Let's go!"

Ah. Right. The breaking and entering.

Well, never let it be said that he hadn't tried to keep Clark's boy out of trouble.

Emmy sauntered on in with Luke, and he was unwillingly brought deeper into the house.

Cobwebs spattered the ceiling beams, and the portraits on the wall were faded with dust. A chandelier hung low from the ceiling, candles burnt down to wicks. Once it could have been a centrepiece, but now it was just another forgotten masterpiece.

Everything beautiful had to be lost eventually. But why always so soon?

His antennae twitched, catching the air. Dusty, but not dead. There was movement. Some of it was definitely spiders, but not all. There was life in this house besides them. It was reassuring, in a way, to know that despite its looks the house wasn't entirely neglected.

"What's this?"

Emmy had found a dusty glass frame, and was wiping away the layers of time with her hand. A sepia-toned photograph was slowly revealed.

A little girl and a little boy together. They looked happy, all big smiles, but faint, almost the entire photograph besides them had faded into light. 

The frame had been placed to fall into the sun's light as the day went. Layton wondered why. Was it placed there knowing that it would fade, but wanting the children's faces to be framed in sun anyhow? Or did someone wish to see it fade away because they couldn't bear seeing what had been?

"That's Arianna." Luke said. "And, uh, her brother, Tony." He pointed each one out.

"Huh." Emmy cleaned off the rest of the photograph. It didn't seem right to leave their moment of happiness forgotten like that.

"They're not here." She said, a little uncomfortable in this empty space. "We should move on." 

He'd hoped she would say "leave", but, well, moving on was something at least.

She started walking down the corridor, Luke hopping after her. It wasn't a very long corridor, and after a while they had to stop; there was too much stuff on the floor for someone without delicate footsteps to navigate around.

Wooden blocks, bears, cars, drums.... all sorts of things strewn about outside a set of double doors.

"Toys?" Emmy tipped a car over with her foot. The word "TONY" was written on the underside in permanent marker.

"I wonder why he left them lying about....?" Luke asked.

"Where is he?" Emmy frowned. "I wouldn't leave toys out like this and then just leave them." 

"It's a little irresponsible." Layton agreed. "But he is a child." 

"I hope he's okay...." Luke mumbled, before looking up at Emmy. "That door is, um, where Arianna's room is." He certainly wasn't as enthusiastic as he had been before; perhaps he had figured out this was a potentially unwise idea.

"Right." Layton would love if they could go now. Surely Arianna would prefer at least to be asked before they presumed to break into her house...

However, it was unlikely they would agree to leave. This seemed to be important to Luke, and Emmy was quite determined too.

She began clearing a path for Luke to the door. He waddled forwards, took a deep breath, and slowly opened the door.