A faint disturbance stirred on the wall behind the stage. Noninja peered at it uncertainly, not knowing what to make of it; the audience seemed to take no notice. At first, it appeared to be an indistinct blur, making the backdrop pulse slightly. A moment later, an indistinct glow formed, barely evoking the shape of a woman’s face. More details began to emerge, all of them feminine, somehow floating in the air near the wall.

“What is that?” Noninja whispered to Rikki.

“Uh oh,” he whispered back. “I was afraid this would happen.”

“What?!” Noninja hissed.

“They demolished the garden to make this theater,” Rikki explained. “Former owners must have buried their dead there.”

Noninja glared at the floor in terror. “We’re standing on desecrated soil?!”

Rikki nodded glumly.

The ghostly woman’s form clarified and became obvious, yet the audience behaved as if it was perfectly normal. It wasn’t until Lyle happened to look back, jump out of his chair, and screech “What the devil is that?!” that anyone realized it wasn’t part of the play.

The audience gasped collectively; the woman’s form seemed to grow, the ghostly tatters of her elegant ballgown unfurling to cover a larger area. A fiery glow burned in her eyes, and her mouth opened.

“You people are insane!” she hollered; the audience reared back in fright. “What’s wrong with all of you?” she continued. Several audience members covered their eyes and cowered; the ghost moved away from the wall, now looking down at the assembled crowd. “This play…is terrible!”

Her mouth suddenly grew several times too large as an unholy shriek erupted from the widening maw. The audience finally lost their composure; people fled in terror, some climbing over the pews, and each other, to escape.

Noninja gaped at Rikki; he continued to lean against the wall, his arms crossed, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. He glanced at Miles and Lorarona; they looked unsettled, but they hadn’t joined the exodus. Through the chaos, Noninja managed to spot Clancy; he watched Desma flee, then turned to look at his teammates and shrug incredulously. Within moments, they were the only five people left in the theater.

The ghost continued her unearthly howling. Slowly, she turned to look at Rikki and the team, who returned her gaze. Her brow furrowed; her mouth slowly closed as the screaming stopped. Looking slightly confused, she contemplated them for a moment. “Hmmm…tough audience tonight,” she remarked with a shrug. With that, she began to drift backwards slowly, melted through the wall, and disappeared.

“Anyone you know?” asked Clancy.

Rikki shrugged. “Not me. She must have been dead for a very long time.”

“And then the new owners dug up her grave and put this theater over it,” Noninja added.

Rikki shook his head. “There’s no accounting for the arrogance of the nouveau riche.”

“So what do we do now?” Lorarona pondered.

Rikki’s eyes lit up. “Are you kidding? This is our big chance! This place is empty! Now you guys can go through it, and uncover every rotten secret this family has!”

Noninja’s eyes sparkled. “And rob them blind?”

Rikki smiled. “With my blessing. I’ll watch the front door and let you guys know when they start to return.”

Miles frowned uncertainly. “How long do you think that’ll be?”

“Oh, let’s see,” Rikki guessed, counting on his fingers. “Find a high priest…one probably lives in the neighborhood…he gets dressed and prepared for an exorcism…finally shows up…hmmm…I’d say you have at least twenty minutes, maybe longer.” He grinned mischievously. “Sounds like plenty of time for a bunch of experts like you guys!”

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“Then let’s not waste it!” Noninja declared. Rikki ran off to the main foyer as the team split up to search the dressing areas on either side of the theater.

They returned a minute later. “Just their pocketbooks,” Noninja announced. “A few gold coins, but not much else.”

“Same here,” Lorarona concurred. “Guess these weren’t the successful artists.”

Noninja headed to the exit. “Let’s ditch this glorified matinée.” The rest of the team followed him into the hall.

The first door to their left was the kitchen; it only held food in various stages of preparation, nothing worth stealing. The first door to the right was the dining room that previously held snack foods; the help had already put it away. Opulent mahogany cabinets held glassware, silverware, candelabra, cloth napkins, and the other accouterments of fine dining, but nothing out of the ordinary. “Let’s keep moving,” Noninja suggested.

A quick peek through the second door on the left revealed the rear foyer; it merely led outside. They passed the doors to the conversation pit and the den, heading to the ballroom. The far wall was a large, rounded bay of windows, supported by carved stone pillars. To the right was a bar, with the usual assortment of tall barstools; further down were a series of tables and chairs. To the left was a pair of saloon doors; beyond them were a series of curtained rooms, possibly for changing clothes. Clancy headed straight for the bar, Miles in tow.

“What are you doing?” Miles groused. “I’m the expert on alcohol here!”

“No, you just drink a lot,” Clancy countered. “There’s a difference. We need to identify the expensive stuff. And everyone knows wizard training involves appraisal.”

Miles scowled and leaned back against the wall near the shelves. He spied one large jug nearby. “Is this expensive?”

Clancy glanced back, then continued to rummage through the cabinets. “No.”

Miles ripped off the cap and tossed it aside. “That’s all I needed to hear!” He tipped the jug to his mouth and began to guzzle it.

Clancy put a few selected bottles on the counter. “Is that a good idea?” he sputtered. “We’re on the job!”

Miles stopped swallowing for a moment to glare at Clancy. “Hey! I’ve been sober all evening! But everyone’s gone now! I don’t have to worry about ‘making a scene’ anymore! Seriously…cut me some slack here!” He took another large gulp. “I’ll still be functional, I promise. I’m just trying to get back up to normal.”

Clancy snickered as he put a few more bottles on the bartop. “OK, I can believe that. Hey, why don’t you and your height do something useful?” He pointed to the top shelf behind the bar. “Grab the ones I tell you to.”

Miles took one last gulp, put the jug down, and retrieved all of Clancy’s selections. “Guess not everything on the top shelf was actually ‘top shelf’?” Miles ribbed.

Clancy shook his head. “Not even close. I’m guessing the rest are the lord’s favorites or something. Not sure why else they’d be there.”

Miles contemplated the array of bottles now littering the counter. “How are we going to get all this out of here? We’ll have no space for anything else!”

“Our problems are over, gentleman!” they heard Lorarona proclaim. They turned to watch her and Noninja stroll back from the dressing rooms, a purse over Lorarona’s shoulder, self-satisfied smirks on both their faces.

Miles covered his mouth and stifled a laugh. “That black purse doesn’t really suit you. And Noninja doesn’t swing that way…I hope.”

“No, you rube.” Lorarona opened it up and faced it toward the other two. “What do you see?”

“Nothing,” Miles smirked. “What a brilliant find.”

Noninja stuck his entire arm inside and waved it around. “A whole lot of nothing, you mean!”

Their eyes grew wide. “What the…?”

Lorarona smiled. “It’s some sort of purse of holding! It’s only got about five cubic feet of space, but I’ll take what I can get!”

Miles’ eyes lit up. “Then we’ll be able to haul off more loot than ever before!” He ran off to the tables. “We’ll need something to pad all these bottles!”

Clancy watched Miles grab the edge of a tablecloth. “What are you doing?”

Miles flashed a silly grin. “I’ve always wanted to do this.” With a quick jerk, he yanked the tablecloth. Everything on top went flying and clattered to the ground; the flower vase hit the floor and shattered, splashing water in a radius.

“Zero out of ten!” Lorarona catcalled. “Big fail!”

Miles smirked as he tore the tablecloth into long strips; Clancy used them to wrap the bottles. “What do you mean?” he asked. “That went perfectly!”

They watched Miles return to the other table. “The contents are supposed to stay in place when you do that,” Noninja explained.

Miles yanked the other tablecloth, causing a similar spray of debris. “You’re just not a chaos fan, that’s all!”

The remaining bottles were quickly wrapped and stashed inside the purse of holding.

“This floor blows,” Noninja groused. “The good stuff has to be upstairs.”

Lorarona put the purse back over her shoulder. “Then let’s get to it!”

Their spirits high, the team ran out of the ballroom and into the hall.