Coral was incredibly bored. She huffed with annoyance as she stared down at the parchment sprawled out on the table before her, somehow her hands had been splashed with ink. Something she hadn’t done since she was a child. She picked up a handkerchief that Pearl had left with the tea set, and rubbed at the ink, muttering until she looked down and discovered more ink spots over her skirt. Brilliant, there went another of her nice skirts. At this rate she won’t have a set of clothes spared from stains or rips.
Coral tossed the cloth down on the table, where her list of things that must be done before midwinter had been compiled. Some of those things were rather costly. She added trousers and coats to the bottom of the list.
She dropped the quill and frowned at the mold on the walls in the far corner, as though it had been a personal affront to Coral for having grown there in the first place. She couldn’t do anything about it just now, but she would, and very soon. The Winter Salon would be the main lounge her visitors would enjoy. She picked up the parchment and reviewed her list with pursed lips. What was the most pressing of things to take care of first?
They had a healthy pile of firewood stacked up by the greenhouse, though only a limited number of fireplaces that they were able to use. The chimneys would need cleaning, and keeping the rooms in the manor warm was a battle she felt like she was losing. In the middle of winter, warmth would be vital to her guests, not to mention herself and Pearl.
Then again, so were rooms that didn’t have cracks in the walls. Or dust. The curtains by the large stained-glass window were still in need of a clean. She and Pearl could tackle that when her leg was a little less tender.
A healthy storage of food was also necessary, though she was unsure of the quantity or variety. Perishables like eggs and milk would be harder to keep. Perhaps they could house chickens in the unused stables over winter. Maybe even a milking goat. They would need to get the kitchen sorted by midwinter, rusted pots would be no use to them, and if Pearl were to take up cooking for everyone, she would need bakeware and the like to actually produce said food. It was all well and good for them to live off boiled potato and porridge, but Moonflower’s guest would have to be impressed to want to return.
Coral picked up her quill and added a note to ensure she got Pearl a recipe book. She tapped her finger against the paper, then added another to get a baking book as well. Not that Pearls baking skills were anything to sniff at, but it would be good to broaden Pearl’s variety.
A clatter from the front gate pulled Coral from her spiritless pondering. Coral shot to her feet, then winced at the pinch on her thigh. Moments later, Coral had limped her way down the drive towards a waiting cart, pulled by a donkey that looked particularly bad tempered. The boy sitting atop the cart looked wearily up at the manor, eyebrows pinched with worry. Coral raised a hand to the delivery chap and set about opening the gate. She discovered that the keys she normally kept in her skirt pocket had disappeared, though the front gate had yet again become unlocked. Coral tsked in frustration, no doubt it was the ghosts doing this.
“Mistress,” the young man said, tipping his hat to her and flicking the reigns. The mule stayed where it stood. “Come on yeh stubborn thing,” he said, then clicked his tongue at it.
Coral stood off to the side as the mule snorted then walked forward to the gentle mutterings of the driver. She followed along the side of the cart, her leg slowing her down some, so that by the time the cart had arrived at the house, Coral was left hobbling far behind to catch up. This rewarded her with a good look at the back of the cart. Crates had been piled high; a tarp thrown over the top to keep most of the goods dry. The young man worked fast to unload the cart, and by the time she had hobbled up, he already had unloaded half the contents.
“Won’t be a moment mistress,” he said, focused on hauling planks of pine wood from the cart. The donkey stamped a foot and huffed its impatience. “We’ll be goin’ soon, stand up,” he called to the mule before dropping the wood into a neat pile.
“You were here last time. Do you handle all the deliveries then?” Coral asked.
“Rollo, if it pleases you,” he said in way of introduction while determinedly removing the boxes and bags as though his life depended on it. “I just deliver goods when my pa don’t need me.”
“You’re Mr. Shepherds son, then?”
“I am. What of it?” Rollo’s shoulders stiffened as he glanced back at her.
“He mentioned you. He was kind enough to bring my sister and I home,” she told him, noticing how his eyes darted from her face to behind her, where the manor stood looming over the both of them. Rollo had been like this the first time he had delivered their goods, skittish and eager to be gone. Now that she knew the reasons behind it, she didn’t blame him for wanting to be gone as soon as possible. She would have too, knowing what she knew now, if she wasn’t so determined to make Moonflower Inn work for her.
Rollo sniffed, wiped the back of his sleeve against his nose then went back to unloading.
Very well then. She looked at the growing pile of boxes and opened a satchel closest to her. It was filled to the brim with potatoes. Another crate held an assortment of vegetables, and that was sure to make Pearl happy in her attempt to ensure proper nutrition. Now she really needed to get her a recipe book. She hoped there would be one in amongst the texts she hadn’t so much as glanced at piled into the Winter Salon.
“Is this all for me?” Coral asked, surprised at the bulk of everything. She had been expecting three boxes at most for the goods she had ordered, of course there was the timber and other tools she had expected, but not this sheer quantity. The majority of the tools she had already found in the manor were rusted and unusable, it had been difficult clearing the drive at first with a rusty pitchfork and an old hand saw that disintegrated the moment she tried to cut anything. Now she was the owner of a crowbar, a hammer, wood screws, nails, chisels, and a few other tools she had already forgotten the names of. She’ll have to settle by referring to them as the do-what’s-its until she can find a carpenter who hopefully had their own tools of the trade and learn from them.
“Tis,” Rollo said distractedly, reaching for the last large crate. It had been wrapped individually from the rest of the wares in a material that looked vaguely of leather. Rollo took particular care with it, ensuring to maneuver it smoothly to the end of the cart.
“Best you keep ‘em covered until they’re settled, my lady. The covering is fireproof, see.” Rollo said, then hefted the box into his arms and set it down cautiously with the rest.
“Fireproof?” Coral asked, mystified by his explanation.
“Aye. They were a bit riled up on the way here, they’ve gone quiet, but I wouldn’t trust ‘em to not light up everything. Here,” he handed her a folded bit of paper.
Coral took it. The paper was several pages thick, and she opened it to read the inventory receipt of her order. She frowned down at the list of items, everything that she had ordered was there. Food, wine, bed covers for all the rooms, dusting cloths and cleaning supplies. She read right down to the end, before she realized what was missing from the first page. The flowers she had bought for Pearl.
Coral turned to the second page and stared at the order form.
Mothers Nature Snap-Dragons of all varieties. Tea-cup, Butterfly, Candy, Double Supreme, Night and Day, Intermediate, Frosted Flames, Dwarf, Trailing.
Each listing had her familiar tick against each type. Behind the order form was another page, with a description of each Snapdragon. She read the first listing at the top of the page.
The Teacup variety of snap-dragons are the smallest and friendliest of all species. They can grow to seven to fifteen centimeters in height and weigh around two hundred and fifty to six hundred grams, depending on the size. Defining features of the Teacup Dragon are large eyes with a rounded head and soft scales with a glazed appearance. The colouring of the scales are two-toned earthen brown, fire-bright red, azure blue and moss green.
Coral looked over at the crate with growing trepidation. She stepped over, took one corner of the coverings and peeked through the bars set in the crate at the top. There was a scuffle inside, and a little jet of sparks lit flittered into the air. Coral jolted backward.
Snap-Dragons. Not, snapdragon the plant. She had ordered a dozen tiny dragons. Coral had placed an order for all varieties, expecting flowers with different colorings or shapes based on the description. Even the name of the supplier was misleading! Mothers Nature had sounded to Coral as though it were a plant nursery, not a menagerie. She supposed she should have clued in when she had read ‘Frosted Flames’. Coral’s hand dropped to her side as she stared in bewilderment at the crate.
Yes, she had admired dragons, but they were notoriously hard to handle. How was she to feed them? Was it too late to send them back?
“I’ll be off then,” Rollo said, already perched up at the front of the cart.
“Wait,” Coral said, reaching a hand up as if she could hold him in place, “I hadn’t meant to order dragons”.
Rollo looked back at her in annoyance. “I’m just deliver’n. If you have a problem with yeh order, yeh’ll have to take it up with Cravin’s an’ Delirium. Stay safe Lady Seaver,” he said, tipping forward in an awkward kind of bow, then clicked his tongue at the mule, which took off at a fast trot.
Coral watched him leave, hands hanging by her sides. She couldn’t take up her issue with Cravings and Delirium, as she was essentially homebound until her leg was better. She could send Pearl, except she had to bring the dragons with her. There was no way either of them could drag a box full of tiny dragons all the way to Direwood.
If in all honesty, having snap-dragons around would help with the vermin problem. Would rats be enough to keep them satiated? A rat was certainly larger than the tea-cup dragon. They were also inherently warm. If she thought about it, maybe they could be beneficial for Moonflower Inn after all. They could be sort of cat-like chickens. At the very least, it was easier to keep tiny dragons alive than chickens were with foxes and the like looking for an easy meal. Snap dragons were small, but they still had ways to defend themselves.
Coral rifled through the information leaflet and found no instructions for their care. Just further descriptors of each kind. She supposed she should be thankful that they were small and not the significantly larger species that were favoured for battle and war.
Coral crossed her arms, looking down at the box. It was waist height, and just as wide. There was no way she was going to be able to move them on her own. Did she have to keep them warm?
“Oh, it’s come. Good, I won’t need to get so much when I go into town this afternoon,” Pearl said, stepping out the front door. She hurried down the steps and crossed the drive to where Coral stood.
“You ordered more than cheese!” she said, her face brightening as Pearl saw the waiting sack of potatoes. “And here I was thinking I was going to have to settle for a life of dairy rich food for the next few weeks.”
She gripped the edges of the sack and tried to lift the bag. It proved to be quite heavy for her, as she only managed to heft the sack up to her shins. “Oh, that has some weight to it. Don’t worry, I can take all this inside,” she said, shuffling her feet forward then having to drop the bag after a few steps.
“You know the flowers I ordered for you,” Coral said to Pearl. Pearl was busy lifting the sack up one step at a time, setting the bag down at each interval.
“They’ve arrived? I can’t wait to plant them. I can put them in the greenhouse over winter to keep them warm for spring,” Pearl said, huffing slightly as she reached the landing.
“They’ve most certainly arrived. Except, they aren’t what I thought they were,” Coral said apologetically.
“Why, what’s wrong with them?” Pearl said, letting go of the bag.
Coral took hold of one section of the coverings and peeled it back, motioning for Pearl to come take a look. Pearl hurried over, bent and peered through the bars.
“Dragons,” she gasped, looking up at Coral with bright eyes. “I thought you were getting flowers?”
“So did I,” Coral said, then hesitated. She didn’t know if Pearl would be open to getting so many animals to care for. “I want to keep them,” Coral said, more as a statement than anything else.
Pearl waved a hand at Coral as she turned to look into the crate again. “You don’t need my permission. Oh, look at this one with the butterfly wings, how pretty. I didn’t know they could come in so many colours. Let’s get them out, I want to see them all.”
There was a rustle from the box, a squeak, and then sparks ignited in the crate, enough to make Coral and Pearl step away hastily. A small jet of flames joined the sparks, heating up the metal bars that had been set into the top. Though the box they were in was made of dark wood, it did not catch alight, or even burn. Merely a rich smokey scent permeated the air. Coral reached over and pulled the cover back over.
“I was told to keep them covered until they’re more settled. I don’t know if we should put them inside or not. They might set something on fire,” Coral said.
“I don’t think we should leave them in the stables. It’s too cold there. I don’t know much about dragons, but I do know they like warmth. The little ones at any rate,” Pearl said, clasping her hands together, then added in a small voice, and looking up at Coral with her big blue eyes. “I would very much like them to be inside pets.”
Coral fought for a full five seconds against Pearls pleading before giving in. Though if she had to run around cleaning dragon dung from carpets, she would be putting a stop to that quick smart.
“Only if they can be trained,” she said, as if it cost her to say as much.
Pearl grinned and turned on her heel and hurried up the steps. “I’ll put everything away, and then we can figure a way to get the dragons inside,” she said excitedly.
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If she knew Pearl would be this excited for some snapdragons, she would have bought her one long ago. It was rare to see Pearl so excited about anything.
It took both Pearl and Coral the better part of an hour to put away the food and tools she had ordered, with much of it being protested by her sister and her leg. Coral resolutely ignored both and set tools and mould removing solution into a large unused room on the ground floor. With their combined efforts, the box of tiny dragons was pushed and pulled through the front door and on to an ugly rug that neither of them liked, and then dragged to the winter salon with a great deal of fuss. Every time they moved too fast or pushed too hard, it upset the critters and sent them scuttling about and chittering their displeasure. The crate grew warm beneath their touch and was hot by the time they pulled the crate into the room.
After a few minutes of rest where much of it was spent listening to growling squeaks, it was decided that the furniture would be at risk and was much safer for the chairs to be deposited at the far end of the room, away from the fireplace. The room grew warm as the fire was stoked higher, and Coral set the snap dragons close to the hearth and then left them alone in there to settle. Leaving them alone was going against her best judgement, but every time she or Pearl spoke softly, the tiny dragons stirred and chirped.
To preoccupy herself, Coral sat at the kitchen table and reviewed her notes and tried not to think about how there was a great fire risk in the Winter Salon. She dipped the quill with fresh ink and added several more items to her list of things to get. “I’ve added books about dragon rearing, anatomy, and anything in general about dragons,” Coral said, tapping her finger as she reread the list.
“They’re quite small, so I would say they’re all hatchlings,” Pearl said, her head hovering over a pot as she stirred some new combination of vegetables she was stewing. She had used an absurd amount of potato. It had started off well enough, with sizzling beef at the bottom of the pot, but when she had browned it, she added water.
“And I think we need more fireproof things. Like gloves. I wonder if the smithy has an old pair, an apron would be good too, considering they like to spit out fire,” Coral said thoughtfully. Coral added those to her substantial list. How was she going to tackle all of this before midwinter?
“Do you think this looks right?” Pearl asked, sniffing at the pot’s contents.
It didn’t. Nothing about it smelled appealing. It was watery and chunky, with the occasional green thing that Coral thought was possibly peas. “Maybe add some salt?” Coral suggested. She hadn’t tasted it yet, nor did she particularly want to. Pearl sought out the salt, and sprinkled a small pinch in.
A hard knocking sound started Coral, the quill she was holding falling to the table. Pearl looked up from the pot and looked around, expecting to see something. Neither of them spoke, only waited with baited breath for another sound or sign of the spirit’s activities.
Another knock echoed down the corridor, and Coral sighed in both annoyance at herself, and relief. “It’s the front door, it’s probably Elwin,” she said as she went to answer it. Coral had left the front gate unlocked and open for him, she just hadn’t been expecting him to arrive after midday.
Elwin was standing in the entrance foyer, holding a large sack over one shoulder and looking excitedly around. The door behind him was left wide open. If Coral were to guess, she suspected the door had been flung open by ghostly hands for him as well.
“Elwin, welcome,” Coral said, crossing the foyer to close the door. She thought about locking the door, and then decided against it. Whom or whatever was opening the door was not going to let a lock impede them.
“My apologies for the intrusion. The door opened and I thought you were just behind it,” he began, his eyes bright.
Coral waved away his explanation. “You’re welcome here anytime. We’re in the kitchen for now, would you like a cup of tea?”
“Thank you for the offer, but I warmed up on my run here,” Elwin said, following Coral down the corridor to the kitchen. “I brought the documents for your manor. Some things might be a little crushed.”
“I appreciate it all the same,” Coral said.
Elwin paused in the doorway as he took in the state the kitchen was in. It still needed pots and pans to be put away in their rightful place.
“Good day Elwin,” Pearl said, smiling at him from the steaming stove. “Please don’t mind the mess. Take a seat.”
“Is this from the ghosts, or the search?” Elwin asked, placing the large sack on to the table.
“The search,” Coral said, pretending that the kitchen hadn’t been in a right state prior to the Adventurer’s scouring every surface. “We’ll clean it up eventually. We’re having a little rest before we dive into preparing for mid-winter.”
“Coral is having a little rest,” Pearl said sternly, pointing a wooden spoon at her.
“You do look much better than earlier. The bruising on your face is gone. And your hands, Orvil Norwood is a trying man, but he is good at what he does. It’s probably the only reason why Doctor Thornheart keeps him around,” Elwin said to Coral, pulling out a kitchen stool from beneath the table and sitting down.
Coral looked at the palms of her hands, the skin smooth, shiny, and pink. Mr. Norwood’s poultices had worked quickly to heal the blisters and regrown skin that had burnt away. She was glad that she had been unconscious for the procedure. She should see about purchasing some more in preparation for dealing with the dragons.
“Is there any of that chocolate cake you make Pearl? I’d like to try some,” Elwin asked.
“Of course,” Pearl said. She dropped her spoon to the counter and busied herself with cutting Elwin a slice of cake. A far more suitable offering of food to their guest over the watery stew Pearl was making.
Coral wondered if she could add a dash of red wine to the mix for a little flavour without her sister knowing. Pearl would certainly be opposed to it. Technically she wasn’t supposed to be drinking wine, but if it were added to food, surely that was an acceptable alternative.
“How is everyone? Is Norden Ruesong-” Coral asked but found she couldn’t quite complete that sentence.
“Better. A few more scars than before and sore, but he’ll live. He had this awful infection that spread, blood poisoning or something. If it wasn’t for that, he’d be up and about like you are,” Elwin said, taking the proffered slice of cake eagerly.
Coral pulled a teacup and saucer to herself and poured in hot, sweetened tea. She had been horrified to see the dark veining creeping out over the flesh of her leg. If Doctor Thornheart had thought Norden Ruesong’s injuries were worse than hers, then the infection must have spread horribly. There was needle thin, pink lines where the poison had been spread out over her leg. No doubt the ghoul would be able to leave a lasting mark long after it’s death. She took a bracing sip of tea to wash away the bitter memories of that night.
“I’m glad he is doing well. Is there anything I can do to assist him?” Coral asked.
Elwin shook his head. “The guild will take care of him. Crowcaller will see to whatever he needs, as well as Silas.”
“How is Silas, and the rest of your pack,” Coral asked, leveling a heavy stare at him. Elwin had the good sense to look guilty.
“Pack?” Pearl said, looking between Coral and Elwin. “Don’t you mean team?”
Coral hadn’t told Pearl about what had completely transpired that night. A part of her found it difficult to even place words to what she had seen. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the ghoul stalking her, of it tearing into Norden and Osric Ruesong. Of large wolves that tore the ghoul apart. Coral had never seen such violence before. It had disturbed her greatly.
“I want to know why you, or Silas, or any of the other Adventurer’s hadn’t bothered to inform me that you’re all werewolves. I was a part of the plan. I had a right to know,” Coral said quietly.
Pearl stared at Elwin, who was now slumping in his chair and looking away from them both.
“I thought Silas had told you,” Elwin said.
“No. He didn’t. Why would that matter?” Coral asked.
“He is the team leader. We leave it to him to tell who needs to be told. The town knows, so I hadn’t really given it much thought to tell you,” he said, shrugging.
Coral fought down her bitterness. She had expressed her concern to Elwin about the wolves, and he had brushed her off. Each time she had stepped on to the road to Direwood, she had been watching cautiously for them. It was a hard thing to accept, that she had been worried for no reason. Well, not entirely no reason. It was common sense to be cautious around werewolves, some were quick to temper. However, Coral understood why it was kept hidden from her. She and Pearl were new to Direwood, mostly unknown to the residents as they had kept to the manor. Trust was needed, and she and Pearl had not earned it.
It was the same reason she would not speak of her father to anyone here. Trust was needed, and none had established a solid relationship with her enough for her to speak about her betrothal to some pompous man who thought he could buy her like she was a breeding mare. There was no possibility she would risk opening that topic of conversation or rumour mongering for it to spread somehow back to the ears of her betrothed.
“Very well,” Coral sighed, then took another sip of her tea. Pearl searched Coral’s face for a moment, a small frown line creasing between her brows and her mouth opening to say something more. Coral shook her head subtly at her. She would explain to Pearl later why she forgave Elwin so quickly. It was, after all, not in Coral’s nature to be so generous with her forgiveness. She liked to hold on to her grudges. Besides, it wasn’t Elwin with whom she should hold a grudge. It was Silas. Next time she saw him, she’d let him know exactly how annoyed she was with him. He hadn’t even come to see how she was doing after that night, the selfish cur.
“How’s the cake?” Pearl asked, turning back to the pot.
“As every bit as good as Coral has said. Excellent and moist,” Elwin said, still looking a bit sheepish.
Pearl paused in her stirring the pot and looked over at Elwin, her eyes wide. “Can you eat chocolate?”
Elwin snorted, and the tension in the room broke. “I’m still part human,” he said, shoveling a large chunk of cake into his mouth.
Pearl visibly relaxed and went back to stirring. “For a moment there I thought I had poisoned you.”
“It would take a lot more than a bit of chocolate to poison me. I’d need something a bit more challenging, like ghosts,” he said then scooped the last of the cake into his mouth. “It’s hard to kill something that’s already dead. I brought that book, don’t tell anyone. Crowcaller will wring my neck if she finds out I took it from the library.”
“What book are you talking about?” Pearl asked, adding flour to the pot.
“The one that’s going to help you with your ghost problem,” Elwin said with a grin.
A jug of utensils Coral had cleaned previously was knocked from the bench, clattering to the floor. All three of them stared. The door to the kitchen, which had been left ajar, slammed shut.
“You’re not a problem,” Pearl called loudly in a placating sort of way. “Elwin didn’t mean it like that.”
“Pearl!” Coral hissed.
“You shush,” she whispered back. “Don’t make them angry. They’ve been quiet until now. It’s damaging to a child’s psyche if they hear things like they’re a problem.”
“I don’t think it’s just children here,” Coral said, recalling the night Caspian had come across their doorstep. She had gone straight through a tall silhouette.
“All the same, I don’t want to be dropped on my face,” Pearl said, dipping a ladle into the pot and scooping it out into a porcelain bowl.
“Is that what happened? When you said you had fallen, I was thinking they had tripped you,” Elwin said.
Pearl set a bowl and spoon down in front of Coral, the contents steaming in the chilled room. “She was locked in a room, an old nursery, where Ayleth and Emeric insisted on Coral helping them to go down to the basement.”
“We don’t know if it was them,” Coral interjected.
“Who else would it be? It’s an old nursery, of course it would be them,” Pearl said. “Mr. Acheron was with me, and he was attempting to open the door without breaking it. But when Coral yelled out, he broke the door down to get to her. I found her sprawled on the floor.”
Coral used the spoon to stir the contents of her bowl. It was thick and gluggy, and when she raised the spoon to her nose to give a surreptitious sniff, she was disheartened by the smell. To delay eating, she dropped the spoon back into the bowl and turned to Elwin.
“I was pulled across the room and held in place to stare at the floor where they had written ‘Help in basement’. I wanted to be free of them, so I agreed. Where they then dropped me, face first, onto the floor. I thought my nose was broken,” Coral said grudgingly. She stirred a little at the stew, then tasted it. It took all of her willpower to not pull a face at the congealed texture. It was bland, and almost unpalatable.
“That’s when we decided to go down to the basement, and found that horrible ghoul,” Pearl said, sitting herself from across Elwin with her own bowl of stew. “Would you care for some lunch? I’m afraid I don’t have any bread to offer.”
“Please,” he said.
If Coral could have warned him off without offending Pearl, she would have. Instead, she watched in anticipation as he was passed a bowl and raised a heaped spoon to his mouth. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he paused, chewed once, then swallowed hard.
“You don’t need to be polite. I know it’s bad,” Pearl said with a small chuckle.
“Oh, thank goodness,” Coral said, dropping her spoon into the bowl.
“You have to eat it. You’re healing. I’ll be sad if you don’t,” Pearl said to Coral. She pulled a face as she ate some of her own broth and made a disgusted sort of “Urgh” noise.
Coral scowled as she picked up the spoon again and tried hard not to think about the goopy, grainy texture. How Pearl was able to bake perfection yet cook terribly was a mystery to her. It wasn’t that different, was it?
“I have a favour to ask of you Elwin, if I may?” Pearl enquired.
“Of course,” he said, pushing the bowl away from him so that it sat in the centre of the table.
“Would you mind escorting me back to town this afternoon? I’d like to get a few more supplies for the kitchen.”
“While you’re at Cravings and Delirium, could you enquire about recipe books?” Coral said lightly.
Pearl glared at her. She knew her cooking skills were bad. “It’s not like I have had much experience with cooking. I’m still learning,” she said, her cheeks reddening.
Elwin tried hard not to smile. “Your chocolate cake more than makes up for it,” he assured her.
It was fine for him. He didn’t have to eat her cooking every day. The Dog’s House was going to be difficult to contend with if this was the fare they would serve to their guests.
“I would be most happy to escort you,” Elwin said. “Right after we address your ghost problem. I’m here to help.”
“Help how, exactly?” Pearl asked.
“I want to talk to them. If we know what they want, maybe we could help them move on. Or at the very least have a better understanding of what we are working with. We need to do something about them before we have guests stay here,” Coral said.
“As long as you don’t plan on destroying their souls or something similar,” Pearl said, looking at Elwin. “If the ghosts here are the victims of the Necromancer, they’ve had a hard enough time already. I don’t want Ayleth or Emeric to suffer any more than they have.”
“We don’t know what happened to them,” Coral said placatingly. “For all we know, they could have perished from sickness.” Coral had managed to work her way through the last of her stew and had scooped the final large chunk of potato into her mouth. Her stomach gave a small lurch and briefly, she couldn’t bring herself to chew.
“It would be quicker if I took shadowsteel to them,” Elwin said, a wistful look to his face. Shadowsteel absorbed the souls of those it cut down, though Coral was unsure what happened to the spirits that were absorbed. Did they experience another death like state?
The room grew icy, the temperature dropping in seconds. Their breath puffed in white clouds before them, then a pot lid threw itself across the room. A plate followed suit, forcing all three of them to dip down as it flew over their heads and shattered against the wall behind them. The ladle Pearl had been using soared past her shoulder and straight at Elwin. He threw an arm up to shield himself, except his stool flew backwards, toppling him to the floor. A porcelain cup whirled past them and smacked Elwin hard in the face, breaking on impact. Another small pot flung itself onto the table, knocking Elwin’s stew. The bowl and pot slid across the table, the handle catching on a divet in the wood, fell sideways and the contents splattered up Coral’s arm and neck.
A ripple of magic washed over Coral, and the chunk of potato she hadn’t swallowed lodged itself in her throat. Coral choked, fighting for breath as the piece refused to budge. Pearl shot to her feet, hurried around the table with a frightened cry and grabbed Coral, wrapping her arms around her stomach, heaved once, twice, and the potato dislodged itself.
The room stilled as Coral gasped, her hands braced against the table and her eyes streaming. Pearl stood beside her, pale and frightened as she tried to rub Coral’s back and watch for any more objects being thrown their way.
“Are you alright,” Pearl squeaked out.
Coral nodded, and winced as she went to wipe her face with her stew covered arm. “I think,” Coral gasped, her throat still feeling vaguely like there was something stuck there. “I just had the backlash of the Fool’s Luck spell.”
Thank goodness Pearl had been there when it happened.
“What, pots being thrown at you?” Elwin said, getting to his feet and tugging at his shirt to straighten it.
“The choking,” Coral croaked out. She reached for the tea and gulped it down. Pearl hurried to fetch her the water pitcher and poured more into her cup. Coral drank that quickly too, then coughed. The room was still frigid, but at least nothing more was being thrown at them.
“Here, you’re covered in food,” Elwin said, handing her a cloth from the sink.
Coral wiped her chin where a piece of carrot fell away to the floor. The stew was staining her cream blouse a dirty, brown colour. She was going to have to add that to her soaking bucket along with her skirt that she hadn’t been able to get the stains out of. She wiped the gluggy mess from her shoulder and worked her way down her arm.
When that frilly, coral dress had been ruined with dirt and blood, she hadn’t minded so much. The stains in her skirt could be soaked out. Coral frowned down at her sleeve and the ink stains she had gotten earlier that day. She had needed to wash some form of dirt, blood or mess from her each day, in the past she had rarely been so careless.
Filth. That was what her father’s letter had said. Coral closed her eyes and groaned.
“What?” Pearl said worriedly, hurrying over to her.
“Filth!” Coral snapped. “That’s what the curse is. To make me filthy.”
A malicious curse letter would never have reached her through the Adventurer’s guild. But a spell designed to be irritating as possible without harming her? That was a possibility. Eirek Farley had spent his last days plotting a way to ensure his last curses would find her. To curse her with filth, a spell to match an insult he favoured.
Coral threw the cloth into the sink and huffed. “I need a bath.”