Coral did not sleep until the early hours of the morning, and even then, it was a fitful affair. The black snapdragon kept wriggling around and poking her with one of its large paws. Her throat felt as if it were bruised and she would startle awake at any vague noise, whether it be imagined or not. Pearl had fallen asleep draped across the arm of the chair, with her own snapdragon snuggled rather comfortably on her lap, its butterfly wings fluttering about every so often as it dreamed.
When Coral awoke for what felt like the fiftieth time, it was to the sound of the spellbook falling from her lap and thudding against the wooden floor. She had spent the night studying the spells to preoccupy her mind. The layout of the sigils and the complexity that went into magic was usually intriguing enough to hook Coral. Unfortunately, not even magic study could keep her mind from worrying away at what to do about the angry ghost in her basement.
No, not angry. Unhinged was rather more correct. Or terminally insane. Even the comments from the other ghosts had said as much.
Coral bent down and collected the book. The black snapdragon uncoiled its body into a languid stretch, not caring that its two front feet were pushing hard into her. The small claws it flexed were sharp enough to scratch through her through the velvet robe.
The room looked as much as it had when she had fallen asleep. De-feathered pillows were strewn about, some hosting a couple of sleeping snapdragons. There were a few new slashes on the creature’s favourite chair. It stood lopsided with a significantly shortened leg after the dwarf dragons had gnawed on it, and it was so singed that it was hard to distinguish what colour the fabric had been.
The room was sleepy and still, instilling a sense of security in her.
Coral knew logically that the pallid sunshine streaming through the windows wasn’t going to keep her safe from an angry ghost, but it did make her feel better. It wasn’t the other ghosts in the house she feared, at least not right now. Coral slipped her black stone securely in the pocket of Pearl’s velvet dressing robe, tucked the blanket about her shoulders to keep her warm, then got to her feet to stretch out her stiff back.
Her movement was a signal to the rest of the snapdragons that it was time to wake. Little bleary eyes blinked up at her, snuffling and scuttling as they hurried over, eager to begin their day. Coral needed to let them outside and they would be demanding their breakfast as soon as they were done with their business. In the short time that she had them, the tiny snapdragons seemed to have grown far more than the black snapdragon. Though, none had gotten quite as big.
Coral stood by the door for a full minute, her hand resting on the handle as she seriously contemplated heading straight to Crowcaller for help. She had been thinking about it for most of the night.
It would be easy.
If she did, they would get to enjoy a ghost-free, warm evening at the Adventurers Guild. Coral was sure Crowcaller would accommodate her and draw up a payment plan. All she would have to do is battle her own guilty conscience.
It would also likely take her years to repay the fee for having the ghosts removed, with the majority of whatever hopeful earnings she gained through the inn going directly to the Guild’s coffers.
No, going to the Adventurers Guild was not an option. She simply didn’t have the means. She had only ever had one guest so far, and she was thankful Caspian Acheron hadn’t asked for his money back. Not to mention the cost of repairs the manner was in desperate need of. Coral had accepted that the amount of renovation work would be quite substantial and would be supplemented from whatever profit she hoped to glean from the Inn. What she couldn’t accept was having her coin depleted and leaving her destitute.
The black snapdragon whined a little, pulling Coral away from her thoughts.
“Alright. Let me check if the way is safe.” She gave its head a pat, then pried the salon door open a few inches. She peaked out. Morning light spilled down the corridor, and not a ghost could be seen darkening the entrance foyer or corridor.
The black snapdragon trotted out, completely unconcerned. That must be nice. It went for the kitchen, following the usual routine and expecting to be let out to the courtyard from the back door. The rest of the snapdragons had noticed her leaving and raced after the black snapdragon in a thunder of little claws pounding the wooden floor. Coral stepped out of the room and her foot landed on something hard. She jerked back, her heart in her throat and looked down, hoping she hadn’t stepped on one of them.
There, lying at the foot of the Winter Salon door, was the chicken bone conductor.
Coral picked it up and examined it, turning it over to look at the sigil. There were no sudden voices that spoke to her, thankfully. She wasn’t quite ready to speak to the dead this early. The bone conductor would need some time to recharge before she could use it again. Which was good, as she rather fancied a strong cup of tea and a full belly before she had to deal with any ghosts.
Coral wasn’t sure which of the ghosts had fetched the bone. It was unlikely that it had been Lady Rayner, as she had made it perfectly clear how she felt about Coral. She rubbed at her tender throat and winced a little at that thought. Either way, they must want to speak with her if they had left it lying by the door for it to be found in the morning.
In the kitchen, Coral spent a long moment finding the correct key then opened the back door. When she managed to pry open the door, the snapdragons went trundling down the few steps and bounded off into the courtyard. A small tuft of white drifted past. Coral blinked and looked up. The first snow of the season had begun. With a start, Coral realised that Midwinter was now only a matter of weeks away. She hadn’t boarded up any windows or walked the perimeter of the stone wall that fenced in the hundred acres of land. The bathroom in her room still needed the wallpaper removed, the cracked mirror to be replaced. She had thought she would be well and truly done with those tasks by now. She was running behind in preparing the manor. Rather quite badly. Mr. Wiggy the carpenter had yet to visit, so she would have to rule out any repairs to the house to be done prior to midwinter then – a hopeful but unrealistic notion she had wanted.
Coral stuck her hand into the robe pocket and brushed her thumb over the bone’s surface. She let out a heavy sigh, turned and then sought out the bone conductor jar. The second chicken bone had been soaking in her blood for longer. She unstoppered the lid, hesitated, then dropped the bone inside and sat the jar on the table.
Coral had read the passage in the book Elwin had used to make the bone conductors. If she wanted to prolong the spell’s usage, she would need to supplement the soaking process with a few drops of her blood once a month if kept at an optimal cool temperature. As it was so cold in the manor, Coral hadn’t bothered with the cold box, the room was icy enough.
She turned her back to it and busied herself with locating a knife to slice some bread. The cupboard to her left creaked open. Coral turned in time to see the blue teapot lift from its place and land rather heavily on the table, the porcelain lid rattling. Coral winced at the sound, hoping that it hadn’t cracked on impact. Nothing else moved after a moment, so she went to inspect for any damage. Finding nothing, she set the teapot down and went back to the bread, resolutely ignoring what just happened.
Coral had finished slicing, when she heard the distinct sound of glass sliding over a wooden surface. She looked over her shoulder. The jar of chicken bones had been nudged towards her.
“I want a hot cup of tea and something to break my fast,” she said aloud to the room, knowing whichever ghost was in the kitchen with her didn’t have much of a say in the matter. Unless they wanted to get violent.
She set to boil water and found the butter for toast. It would be a welcome time when the snapdragons were big enough to lay eggs. The thought of buttery dragon egg omelette made her mouth water.
When Coral turned back to the table for the blue teapot, she found to her surprise a waiting cup and saucer along with a fine porcelain plate. Even the cutlery had been set. Coral stared. The ghosts had set a place for her breakfast. Not knowing exactly what this all meant, she turned to the stove at the insistent sound of the water boiling over. She hurried to the teapot and set it by the stove, ready to be filled.
A few minutes later, with the tea pot steaming gently from it’s spout, and the scent of hot buttery toast in the air, Coral sat at the kitchen table to eat. It was relatively peaceful. If she ignored the glass jar of blood and chicken bones that was slowly inching its way over to her.
Her hair shifted, tickling her neck. Coral flinched and batted at the strands, hoping there wasn’t a spider crawling in it. She cut herself a piece of toast, savouring the quiet moment, and placed the piece in her mouth just as she felt another gentle tug on her hair. Coral placed her cutlery down and ran her fingers through the strands, catching a few knots. She shook her head for good measure.
The back of her head tingled as something moved the strands, and she shot to her feet just as the jar of the chicken bones was pushed towards her again. Coral slowly let her hand drop. Her hair moved again, as though someone were running their fingers through it. There was a tug as a knot was caught, jerking her head a little.
“There’s no need to fix my hair. I already know it’s a disaster,” she said, batting at the air behind her head. The sensation stopped. Coral waited a moment, half expecting the kitchen door to open, or porcelain to hurl at her. She knew the ghosts wanted her attention, but they could wait a few more minutes before she started toeing the line with the law.
She threaded her fingers in her hair, half untangling a knot clumped near her right ear and sat back down. This time, she didn’t bother with her fork. She picked up the rapidly cooling toast and bit into it. The jar of bones was nudged towards her again.
Coral ignored the gesture. She poured herself some hot tea when she was done chewing. The rich and floral taste was wonderful and filled her to the core with warmth. Even the cup sitting between her hands helped to warm her cold fingers. She leant forward and rested on her elbows, a behaviour she would have been punished for a few years ago, and smiled into the cup as she took another sip.
The kitchen, with the stove warming her back from residual heat, was rather pleasant this morning. Her eyes still fell towards the floor. Towards the doorway that led to the basement. All remained quiet and still. Even the usual creaks the manor made were silent. Coral drained the last of her tea from her mug.
The kitchen door swung open, making her jump. The cup was pulled from her hands, and it clattered noisily on the plate before her. It was set right by invisibly hands, the blue teapot lifted seemingly on its own, then tipped so that the contents splashed into the cup, all over the table and across Coral’s arms and chest. Coral threw her hands up trying to deflect the splashback, but the tea was too hot and burned her through her nightrobe. One of the ghosts threw a cloth over the tea that had pooled and spilled over the side of the table. Coral got to her feet and stood back, holding the nightrobe away from her front as much as she could to prevent any further burning.
The cloth mopping up the tea was soaked instantly. It rose from the table in a limp sort of way, as if whichever of the ghosts who were attempting to lift it was struggling. The cloth was dropped and splattered against the floor adding to the mess further.
“What is happening?”
Pearl stood in the doorway with her snapdragon clutched hard against herself. Her eyes locked on to one of the kitchen stools that slid away from the table, and a second cloth was flung across the room.
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“I thought you weren’t going to do anything stupid anymore!” Pearl accused.
“I was having breakfast,” Coral said indignantly.
“This doesn’t look like breaking your fast at all,” Pearl said waspishly.
The jar of bones rattled on the kitchen table, interrupting Coral from answering Pearl with a too sharp tongue.
“I found the bone conductor I lost in the basement outside of the Salon door. The ghosts have been heavily hinting they want to talk,” Coral said.
Coral felt herself be jerked forward, lifted then tossed on to the kitchen stool. It rocked back towards the table. Coral threw her arms out to stable herself as the stool balanced on two of its legs before rocking forward again. The jar of bones tipped over, the cork popped, and both bones shot out, smacking hard into Coral’s chest. She caught the bones before they fell to the ground.
She cringed down at the mess, though she was not surprised. She really needed to have that filth curse sorted out.
“There. I’m sorry, but I’m done waiting,” Alvis Borthwell said. “You need to listen to us before you go to the Adventurers Guild.”
“Relay this to your sister as well, seeing as she is unable to hear us. I know she is frightened. We don’t intend any harm to either of you,” Cicero Bramer said somewhere by the kitchen sink.
Coral tried to rise up from the stool. She was held in place by a cold force pressing down upon her shoulders. “Let me go,” Coral demanded. “This is completely uncalled for.”
“Not until you have given us a chance to speak,” Mabelle sapping said.
“Are all of you here then?” Coral huffed, trying to slip free of whatever force was holding her to the stool. Pearl had gone pale, her eyes wide. She pressed Blossom harder to her chest and took a cautious step back.
“Tell her,” Cicero urged.
“I don’t truly know if you intend on hurting us or not. You’re dead. Eventually you’ll be dead long enough it will drive you insane.”
“Not if we help each other. Which is entirely the point of this conversation,” Mabelle sapping said haughtily.
“Coral?” Pearl croaked out, her voice high and terrified.
“It’s not Lady Rayner. It’s the others,” Coral said. Which wasn’t entirely reassuring.
“What should I do?” Pearl said, now breathing quickly.
“Let go of me, and I will listen,” Coral said to the room, trying to think fast. Pearl would still have a black stone in her dressing robe, providing her some form of protection. She didn’t want to draw attention to that fact. Coral should have kept the stone on herself. She was still making stupid decisions.
“I don’t believe you for a moment,” Alvis said in an apologetic tone.
“We can’t risk you running off to the guild and coming back with Adventurers to curse us to a worse fate. So, we are making you an offer,” Mabelle said.
Coral stopped trying to fight against the force that held her. She couldn’t turn her body, but she could at least move her head in the direction the voices were coming from. Hearing out an offer from the ghosts felt far closer to that of necromancy rather than actively having a conversation with them.
“I understand your apprehension after Lady Rayner attacked you, and I don’t blame you if you do go to the Adventurers,” Mabelle said in a placating manner.
“I would blame her,” Egbert said.
“That is not helping Egbert,” snapped Mabelle.
“What we are trying to say,” interrupted Alvis, “Further to our agreement for cooperation, we will assist you where we can. We will help to ease the upkeep of this manor; we will not harm you or any guests and provide warning if Lady Raynor is- er. Unstable. As long as you have time to find a way to let us move on, without resorting to having the Adventurers Guild involved. In which case would be bad for all of us.”
“You want to help?” Coral asked slowly, her eyes tracing the walls and cupboards around her as though she could see some manifestation of the ghosts. She had thought about making this request of them but hadn’t quite taken that step. She didn’t want to arouse further suspicions of herself being involved with necromancy. Though, if the ghosts did assist her, whether it be light cleaning or advice, even a warning when Lady Rayner was roaming about, it would most certainly be useful.
“None of us want to force your hand into using shadowsteel on us. Even Egbert,” Mabelle said.
“Don’t speak for me, I have my own voice,” Egbert spat.
“We understand that living here is dangerous for you,” Mabelle continued, her voice raised to drown out Egbert’s grumbling from the far corner. “Haunted places are bad for business. You need coin, and you desperately need help in managing a place like this. Considering what we all have to lose. You with your livelihood, and us with our literal spirits. Our initial agreement was rather lacking, so we have decided to offer this to you. Do we have an agreement?”
“What kind of help are you talking about.” Coral asked.
“What’s going on?” Pearl asked stepping towards Coral. The force holding Coral in place eased, then disappeared entirely as Pearl stopped by her side. Coral seriously needed to acquire more black crystals.
“They’re offering to help us as long as we don’t slay them with shadowsteel,” Coral surmised for Pearl.
“Oh. That is, well. What if someone finds out?” Pearl said.
“We can be discreet,” Alvis assured her.
Coral did not think that was a viable answer. They hadn’t exactly hidden themselves when Coral and Pearl had first moved into the manner.
“You would have to be more than discreet. You would have to avoid the guests entirely.”
“You’re not seriously considering this, are you?” Pearl said, staring incredulously at Coral.
Coral was considering it. The help was sorely needed, and she didn’t have the coin to hire anyone to clean. The manor was enormous and was simply too much for two women with a cluster of snapdragons to manage. Coral intended to learn a few household spells to dispel dust from surfaces and chase away spiders, though as she had hardly any practice, she would need to master the sigils before she attempted to bespell anything inside the manor lest she cause an explosion or set something on fire.
“Doesn’t it take a great deal of effort for them to affect the physical world?” Pearl asked.
“It does. Though, it has felt somewhat easier the last few days,” Cicero said.
“I’ve a theory it’s because we are interacting with you more often than we have with anything before,” Alvis said contemplatively.
“It does, but it’s getting easier for them,” Coral told Pearl.
Pearl searched Coral’s face; her mouth pressed into a tight line.
“Please be assured that we won’t hurt you. If anything, we will keep you safe as best we can from Lady Rayner. You’re our best hope to move on. No one else is likely to stumble in and break whatever spell is keeping us here,” Hazel Mahon’s gentle voice said somewhere from behind Coral.
“They say they will keep us safe from Lady Rayner,” Coral told Pearl.
Pearl sighed heavily, her shoulders drooping a little as she nodded her head once in agreement. Then she held up a hand to the room.
“I’m not very happy about this. I have a stipulation to this arrangement. If any of you cause any harm to either of us, or cause us any trouble, we reserve the right to our own protection and employ Adventurers to have you removed,” Pearl said stiffly.
There was a chorus of agreements from the ghosts in the kitchen. Coral relayed their agreement to Pearl, who looked generally unhappy about this whole situation.
A week later with this new truce between them, Coral found that life at the manor did significantly improve. Under the guidance of a disgruntled Egbert, where instructions were yelled rather than explained when she didn’t quite understand, Coral learnt how to nail boards so that they didn’t hang uselessly on the ground level windows. She had only managed to board up a few and lock in place existing shutters before she quickly grew tired. It was something she would have to slowly work on in the lead up to the Night of the Undead.
The manor became noticeably cleaner, with the hard-to-reach places no longer cobwebby and layered with dust. Even the mould remover was being used effectively. By the end of the week, there wasn’t a hint of the mould in the foyer, corridors, Winter Salon or the kitchen. The first floor bedrooms were given a refresher, the curtains beaten of dust, and windows thrown open to air out any residual cleanser smell. This had all been achieved with the help of the ghosts, who grew steadier with their grip on cleaning utensils with each passing day.
Coral had time to truly consider remodelling the bathroom attached to her bedroom. Direwood was so grey and dreary, a splash of colour was in order. The wallpaper she had ordered was plain, though within her budget. She replaced the lime green florals with a rich dark green that, despite the bathroom being small, made it feel a little more cosy. She mostly chose the green so that it matched the drapes on the canopy bed with its dark hues. The copper taps were polished until they shined, the moth-eaten curtain was replaced with another less damaged one she found in another room in the manor when she went to poke about. The stain in the sink came up only after she consulted with Hazel, and eventually with an excessive amount of scrubbing, the basin shone as good as new. Coral even found a suitable mirror that matched the deep mahogany wood panelling on the walls to replace the cracked one. Pearl added her own touch by adding a vase filled to bursting with moonflowers and autumnal foliage, bringing attention to the smaller intricacies to the bathroom, like the copper gleam to the door handles, and the golden candles spelled to only burn the wick.
Coral was proud of her work, even if she did struggle at first with the wallpaper, and if one didn’t look too closely. At least it hid away those few scratched messages of ‘HELP’.
There had been little in the way of signs that Lady Rayner was about. In fact, Coral hadn’t seen her at all. She hoped this was a good sign and that meant Lady Rayner was in a more agreeable mood.
In the hope that they would have more than one guest during Midwinter, Coral transferred the contents of her wardrobe to Pearls room. There were many bedrooms to choose from within the manor, but Coral didn’t have the time to thoroughly wash down another bedroom when she still had to finish patching up the ground floor windows. There were simply too many windows. Besides, Coral could warm her cold feet on the back of Pearl’s legs when the temperature passed freezing. All Coral had to tolerate was Pearl’s light snoring.
Mr. Wiggy arrived the day after Coral had finished the bathroom. He looked completely daunted at the prospect of doing any work at all. He stuck his head about, muttering and sighing with disdain, prodding his fingers in holes then picking them wider to reach into, tapping against walls and beams, then starring with his hands on his hips. In the end, he took one final look at a rather large hole in the floor that went straight through to the floor below. His fuzzy moustache ruffled.
“This doesn’t look like it’s fallen apart,” he pointed at the rough edges where the floorboards had splintered. “It looks more like something broke through it. Or fell. Something real heavy. Look at those scratch marks.”
Coral, who had stayed a healthy distance from the gaping hole in the floor, leant forward to look at what Mr. Wiggy was pointing at. There were deep gouges that looked remarkably like claw marks around the edges of the hole. It had probably been from Lady Rayner’s time as a ghoul pouncing on one of the poor staff. Or one of the undead that had fallen through said hole.
“Can it be fixed?” Coral asked.
“Course’. Be a golden coin for these floorboards. And not till I’m done with repairs in town.”
“Naturally,” Coral said. That wasn’t a surprise. She would prefer people have their homes repaired first. She had a whole manor with many perfectly usable rooms to hold up in. Though, that did put her in some trouble of her own.
“What should I do about the cracked wall and windows? I can’t afford to replace them,” Coral said.
Mr. Wiggy shrugged. “Keep boarding them up. Best you can do. I’m surprised your windows aren’t all smashed in. Then again, the dead all converge on the town. Prob’ly all the people there I reckon.”
“You’re likely right,” Coral said.
“Still, don’t you go staying here on Midwinter. That’s asking for trouble, and we don’t need more than we already get around here,” Mr. Wiggy said, picking at another bit of the floor. “There’s been talk of hobgoblins causing trouble. Dewbraids pigs are getting sick, and some have even gone missing.”
“I’ve been told Dewbraids pigs are the best for eating. Maybe the hobgoblins figured this out,” Coral said mildly, not nearly as interested in this topic as she was for the repairs to her manor.
Mr. Wiggy shook his head. “Nah, I’d have thought the same myself, if it weren’t for the wilted crops. This year’s Midwinter feast ain’t going to be too grand if everything keeps dying off.”
“Is there a plague of some kind?” Coral asked.
Mr. Wiggy grunted and shrugged his shoulders.
“I’d like to engage your services as soon as you’re available,” Coral said, eager to drive the conversation back towards the manor repairs. Mr. Wiggy seemed like the type to gossip.
“Hmm. I’ll let you know,” he said, studying her from beneath thick eyebrows.
Coral guided him back down the corridor and towards the stairs. The hair on her neck stood on end, and Coral could feel that this section of the manor was colder than the rest. Mr. Wiggy gave a violent shudder, then crossed his arms over his chest.
“It’s colder in here than I thought, must cost you a fortune in heating,” he said, making his way down the stairs.
Coral had seen from the corner of her eye a flash of movement by the nursery door as they descended the stairs. She didn’t turn her head to look.
“It’s not so bad. We have plenty of trees to fell for firewood and a decent amount stored for the winter. I never touched an axe until I got here. I’ve got the method down now, after many trials and error. I’m sure in summer it will be wonderfully cooler,” Coral said, speaking purely to keep Mr. Wiggy’s attention directed to her and leaving rather than towards the ghost materialising at their backs.
“What are two young ladies doing all the way in Direwood with a big place like this?” Mr. Wiggy asked, tucking his thumbs into the crook of his trousers as he descended the last few steps.
“Wild ambition and stubbornness mostly,” Coral said, hurrying to open the front door for him.
Mr. Wiggy snorted. “Course’. I’ll send you a quote in the next few days. Don’t expect me so soon, I’m very busy, and for a place like this. It won’t be cheap, or quick.”
Coral waved him out the door. When she closed the door, the lock clicked in place and the small table rocked on its legs. Signals from the ghosts trying to get her attention. Coral turned to the empty foyer. She knew it would be, Pearl had spent most of the day out in the greenhouse with the snapdragons. Except for the black one, who was snuffling about by her ankles, unconcerned.
Coral looked up. Watching from the landing above was Lady Rayner, her face a blank mask. They stared at one another for a long moment, Coral not daring to blink. Distant laughter sounded further down the corridor from the nursery. Slowly, Lady Rayner turned and stepped towards the sound of her children, her body fading into nothing.
Coral relaxed her grip from around the black crystal, her fingers tingling from the magic the stone emitted.