Twenty awkward minutes ticked by in which Pearl fretted over Coral with frequent applications of tea, blankets, and inspections of her hands. The curse was not making itself known, and so there was nothing really to report for symptoms to Doctor Thornheart. Curses didn’t always take when applied through the medium of paper.
“Why exactly do we need to check her hands?” Pearl asked, gently tugging on Coral’s littlest finger.
Elwin was sprawled out on the chair closest to the fire. On occasion he would turn his head slightly so that he could watch Mr. Acheron from the corner of his eye.
“In case they start to rot,” Elwin explained. “The curse that got one of the apprentice’s had his hands decay within minutes of it happening.”
Pearl pulled her fingers from Coral’s quickly, as though she could catch the rotting curse herself. “Then we should fetch Doctor Thornheart right away!” She got up and made towards the salon door.
Witches’ skills extended to identifying curses and spells that affected the physical and mental body. It was a necessary skill, as there was no use in trying to heal someone who’s blood had been cursed to boil without removing the affliction first.
“Wait,” Caspian said. He hurried across the room and caught Pearls arm before she could take a single step further out of the door.
Pearl tottered to a stop, then turned in his grip to look at his hand then up at him with wide eyes.
“I doubt this is the same curse.” His tone had a settling effect on Pearl that Coral would never have been able to replicate. A soothing caress that eased the worry line from between Pearl’s eyebrows. Coral herself could feel the tightness easing from her own chest, and she wasn’t even the intended recipient of those calming words.
Coral sipped at her extra sweet tea, contemplating the way Pearl gazed at Mr. Acheron. How Mr. Acheron stroked his thumb just a little over her arm. Their close proximity, barely a handful of inches between them.
How soon would she need that chocolate? Her poor sister would be pining for the man by the end of the week.
Mr. Acheron blinked, then released Pearl’s arm. “Coral hasn’t shown any sign of disintegration. The Adventurer Guild is thorough when scanning for harmful spell work.”
“Then what has she been cursed with?” Pearl asked anxiously.
“Knowing dear papa, it may have been a curse for putridity, if the letter is anything to go by.” Coral mused aloud. It certainly would be something that he would want to inflict on her. Something to make her life more unpleasant than he already had.
“Who sends their daughter a message like that?” Elwin muttered. He held the note up at arm’s length, pinching the edges of the parchment so he didn’t have to touch any more of it than he had to. “At the very least he could have included more. Not even a signature. Are you sure it’s from your father? You don’t have any enemies, do you?”
“It’s my father’s hand. I’d recognise it anywhere.” Coral said, purposely leaving out that she could very well have a man stilted by her flight from their engagement. He may have bought Coral, but he would never own her. She was certainly not a commodity that could be auctioned off, financial transactions notwithstanding. Honestly, toad racing should be illegal.
“Father never approved of magic. He never learned, and mages aren’t cheap. How could he have afforded this?” Pearl said.
“No idea.” Coral said quietly, then drunk more of her tea to keep her tongue busy rather than muttering ‘gambling’ or, and she hated to think it, went to her betrothed and demanded even more money. She pictured them now, one faceless man with a terrible mutton-chop beard, and her withering, sickly father chuffing in indignation that a woman would dare go against them. They probably discussed in great length of all forty-two options to curse her in a way that would make her life miserable.
“We should burn it. I doubt any trace of the curse is left in the ink.” Pearl said. Without waiting for protest, she picked up the sugar cube tongs and used them to pluck the parchment out of Elwin’s grip. She tossed the note into the flames, setting the tongs on top of the fireplace mantle as though they too were now dirtied.
Coral watched the paper burn to ash in seconds. She felt a strange pang again behind her eyes, the watery kind that came on unbidden. Which was infuriating. Her father did not deserve her tears.
Why was she so upset? Truth be told, she had never expected her own flesh and blood to stoop to this level of vindication. Of course, she had endured his lashings when he wasn’t satisfied with her endeavours. He was never satisfied with anything else for that matter. When she grew old enough to be paraded like a fine delicacy ripe for plucking, Coral would never be beautiful enough, she didn’t smile enough, she hadn’t stirred the interest of the prince with a single glance.
She protected Pearl as much as she could, but her sister too bore deep scars that would never heal properly. Her father had worked his way through the aristocracy with both Coral and Pearl as bait.
All this reminiscing was making her angry.
“I’m done with this waiting. My hands aren’t going to fall off and even if they started to turn black now, Doctor Thornheart wouldn’t arrive in time to prevent it.” Coral said. She would have liked to throw the blanket from her lap and stand in emphasis of this statement, but it was cosy and warm, so she remained tucked comfortably on her seat.
“I am not speaking in riddles, nor am I spouting filthy nonsense, so clearly my intelligence hasn’t been tampered with. I think we have waited long enough for the curse to make itself known, and so far, nothing has happened. Elwin, I would be much obliged if you could call upon Doctor Thornheart and request another house call. There is no rush. Either the curse has run its life expectancy in the time it took to reach me, or it hasn’t taken affect. The Doctor is at her ease to return when it is more convenient.”
Elwin stayed where he was, uncertainty keeping him momentarily speechless. Then, his head bobbed down in a single nod. “Very well. Though I think it’s better if Doctor Thornheart see to you sooner than later.”
Coral was glad that she didn’t need to insist Elwin leave before nightfall. He may be convinced the giant wolves wouldn’t attack if they remained unprovoked, however Coral was less inclined to believe this. A predator quickly learned its standing in the hierarchy of monsters.
It was with a regretful sigh that Coral set the blanket aside. The room, despite the blazing fire was still frigid. As she guided Elwin to the entrance hall, she cast about for any shadows that were moving when they shouldn’t.
A haunted bathroom didn’t mean the ghost stayed in there for good.
She, Pearl and even Mr. Acheron walked Elwin to the front gate. Elwin was evidently uncomfortable leaving. He walked with his hand clasped around the pommel of his sword and he searched the grounds with an intensity that surprised Coral. There was little that he would be able to do if she were set suddenly with a curse. Not unless he too were learning to become a mage as well as an adventurer. He set a slower pace so that they dawdled down the drive, with Mr. Acheron limping still quite heavily. Pearl stayed by his side, as though she could possibly break his fall.
“So many moonflowers around here,” Elwin said, his eyes skimming over the grounds. He lifted his head and sniffed. “It’s a very subtle scent. I can barely smell anything over the rain, er, damp earth? What’s that word when you can smell rain?”
“Petrichor,” Coral supplied.
“I think the flowers are beautiful,” Pearl chimed in. “It’s a shame they only really bloom at night. I think I would like to have a garden filled with all sorts of flowers.”
“I’ve decided to call the Inn after them. If you like it.” Coral said.
“Moonflower Inn,” Pearl said. Hearing her say it aloud, Coral knew it fit perfectly. They hadn’t been here long but with each passing day, Coral knew that she had made an excellent decision when she purchased this place. She was full of excellent decisions. Coral hid a smile, knowing her sister was going to love the present she bought for her.
“I like it,” Elwin said appreciatively. They reached the gate, and he paused before leaving the grounds. “Are you sure you don’t want me to return tonight with Doctor Thornheart?”
Coral checked through the ironwork for any wolves. She didn’t expect any. It was better to be cautious than not. She still felt like she was being watched when she went near the gate. The surrounding trees were quiet, a crow perched nearby and cawed loudly. The sky retained heavy clouds overhead and the rain had eased up, which made the afternoon feel later in the evening than what it really was. Fog had begun to drift through the trees in whisps, and while it was eerily beautiful, it also made her feel wary.
Coral smiled at Elwin. “I’ve learnt that curses will show up straight away if they are terrible. Whatever affliction I may not even have will eventually show itself. I don’t believe there is an immediate threat to my wellbeing.”
“We will send for Doctor Thornheart immediately should Lady Coral begin to fester,” Mr. Acheron said.
Her smile wiped from her face. Fester? Is that the kind of descriptions she would be subjugated to if she did end up with a rotting sickness.
“You won’t get far on that leg.” Coral reminded him, prickling.
“I will go to the Doctor,” Pearl said sincerely, placing a hand against her heart. “I trust we can call on Doctor Thornheart any time night or day?”
“Night or day. You can count me in that as well,” Elwin said. He bowed to both Pearl and Coral, frowned at Mr. Acheron, then turned on his heel and left through the gate.
Not wanting to risk late night visits from any giant wolves that found their way on to the estate by accident or not, this time Coral made certain that she locked the front gate.
Coral was keen to begin renovating another bedroom, and if she were lucky, this one would not be occupied by a spirit.
She still had no idea how to evict the ghost from her bathroom, and her inaction made her feel like she wasn’t moving forward. Instead, it was best for her to focus on what she can do, and that was to prepare another bedroom for potential guests.
Pearl eagerly agreed to entertain Mr. Acheron. He offered his help once again, and Coral had to remind him that he was supposed to be healing. He accepted this reluctantly, which worked Pearl up in a frenzy to ensure his continued entertainment. She even went as far to pull out a ledger for him to peruse, basing this from Doctor Thornhearts suggestion. Coral was unconcerned with him seeing costs she had meticulously recorded. There was no money coming in, aside from Mr. Acheron’s own coin, and so there was no information that could be gleaned other than the cost of cleaning supplies, food and tools. Terribly boring if you asked her, but she still had receipts and costs to enter, and Mr. Acheron had eagerly offered his service.
The first-floor corridor had five completed bedrooms, three of which already occupied by herself, Pearl, and Mr. Acheron. Mercifully, the bedroom suits had required little more than a fresh coat of paint, mattresses, linen and a good dusting of the wood panelling. It was reassuring to see that some parts of the manor required little work. They were all located on one section of the corridor to the right. The left end of the corridor was much longer. This part of the manor led deeper in, and more than once she had gotten lost. Both Pearl and Coral once found themselves unable to find their way back to the entrance hall for several hours, somehow going in circles as they went from corridor to room. The manor was essentially a maze, and there had been no plans provided with the purchase of the estate. Coral thought it best if she familiarized herself with one section at a time.
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Coral had spent plenty of time at the front of the manor on the ground floor, where she and Pearl had swept, dusted, mopped, mended, and dusted again. Slowly, over her first month they had coaxed the front parlour, entrance hall, kitchen and Winter salon into a suitable state that was fit for living. The winter salon wasn’t quite to her taste for acceptable entertainment suitability, but she could ignore the moulding walls on one section well enough if it remained unlit by candlelight. She would have to address it soon though. There was still a large sprawl of rooms she hadn’t touched, and as she and Pearl were only a small team working hard against the effects of what time and abandonment could do to a building, it was a modest progress that would, hopefully, see them all returned to their previous grandeur.
Coral selected the next door down, turned the handle and swung it open. She stepped inside, careful where she placed her feet. The floorboards creaked only a little under her weight. She was sure this room had a sturdy enough floor, based on the amount of furniture piled in. Old children’s toys cluttered every other spare inch available. She sneezed when she entered a little deeper, her skirts sweeping dust into the air.
This room too had been lined with a flowery wallpaper, making it feel overwhelmingly cluttered. That was certainly going, though the pale-yellow background did add a rather lovely warmth to the room she hadn’t expected against the dark grain of the wood panelling.
It took barely a few moments of checking to ensure this room’s windows were not cracked and pushing aside more toys as she wended her way around, that this room was going to be filled with warmth and charm. Perhaps she should use it as a family room. It was certainly big enough to fit several beds and still have ample room for children to play.
Coral bent and picked up a cloth doll, lumpy and stained from age. Had there been children here when a necromancer had owned the house? Or was this a relic from an earlier time? Coral couldn’t imagine a home where a necromancer had children. It seemed so wrong.
It would be good to know the history of the manor. It would be good to have a map as well, so she stopped getting lost. If Coral could arrange an appointment with Direwood’s Adventurer’s Guild head, hopefully more would be revealed to her.
Coral brushed past a table set with a threadbare doily, her skirt’s frills catching then tore as she kept to her stride. She tsked at the ripped material and considered briefly going back to her room to acquire more suitable clothes. Eventually she’ll get herself a pair of trousers for this type of work. Clearing out rooms was so difficult with a skirt that she wanted to maintain and keep. She smirked a little at the thought of wearing trousers, which had also been forbidden from her. Her life was beginning to be all sorts of firsts, and she was enjoying it fully. She turned and headed for the door, then stopped.
She had forgotten about that wretched, perverted ghost.
Coral huffed, then uncaringly set about gathering all the toys into a pile, ignoring any snatches that caught on her dress. She was going to alter it regardless.
With the toys gathered, ranging from a large wooden rocking horse to tiny toy soldiers, Coral had to guess that perhaps the room had been used as a nursery. There was a bassinet with moth eaten cloth, and she found a combination of both boys and girls clothing strewn about. At least, she assumed, as the cloth disintegrated into threads when she had collected them from a table.
Coral sneezed again. The room was incredibly dusty. She returned shortly afterwards with a dusting rag and a fresh bucket of water. The furniture, mostly comprising of dressers and tables, were given a cursory wipe down and inspection for any wood lice or mould. They would be shuffled on to another room and found a new home for the pieces that were still in good condition.
Gathering and dusting had taken only a few hours, and the room had grown so dark that Coral stood back and contemplated how much further she could do without wasting a candle for the evening. It would be supper time soon too, and Pearl would be beginning to wonder where she was.
Coral crossed the room to one of the three tall windows. If she could let in some more light, as pale and dull as it was, she could get just a few more minutes of cleaning done. She gripped the window hangings, the material so faded now that the original colour was unrecognizable and tugged.
The drapes dropped and fell on top of her, the rod holding them up smacking her hard on the head and clamouring as it struck a table and knocked the bucket of water over. She too dropped to her knees, a cloud of dust billowing around her. Clenching her teeth, she rubbed at the top of her head and sucked in a breath at the pain. This earned Coral a lungful of dust. Her throat closed and she started to cough and splutter in between wincing. The coughs so violent that she had to brace herself against the floor, half bent at the waist as her lungs protested.
Coral sat where she was, her dress soaking in the dirty water as it pooled around her, and the dust settled. It took a few minutes before she could breathe normally, and once again she pressed the palm of her hand and rubbed at the top of her head, wincing. Coral could feel a lump forming already. Her eyes were streaming, and she wiped furiously at her cheeks, now gritty from the dust.
The floor was damp with water and grime, and there, in the forming mush of years of accumulated dirt the beginnings of a word started to etch out in front of her.
Frustrated, Coral reached forward and scrubbed with her bare hand at the letters. She smeared the dirt around before the letters could complete the word ‘BASEMENT’.
“Seriously?” Coral snapped. Of all the times the ghost had to interrupt her, it chose this moment. Or had it been the perpetrator? “I told you, I’m too busy to go down to the basement.”
There was a ringing silence as Coral held still, waiting for a response. The room was cast in darkening shadows as the sun began its descent, washing the space in a greyness that leaked the colour from the walls. A doll she had placed in the pile of toys stared back at her. She really ought to have put all the toys face first down. Why were old toys so disturbing? Coral got to her feet and marched to the door, having had enough of this day. She was going to eat supper and go to bed. In her sisters’ room, of course, she did not like the idea of a ghost peeping out at her from her bathroom door.
She grabbed at the door handle and twisted it. The door didn’t open. Coral turned the door handle again. It was stuck tight. With a little worry edging her nerves, she rattled the handle for good measure, and still it remained closed.
Coral stood back, took a steadying breath, then tried the handle again. She heaved her weight against the door, bracing her shoulder and hip against the door hoping to force it open.
It didn’t open.
Coral let her head rest against the wooden door, then pressed herself hard up against it, as though doing this would suddenly let her pass through the very solid exit. “Very well,” Coral said in a would-be calm tone, her voice coming out slightly muffled. She let her hand drop from the handle and turned to the room.
There was no need for useless panic here. It was a shame, really, that her body didn’t seem to quite get the message her brain was trying to logically tell it. Panic was a bad choice. Panic meant mistakes.
“You want me to go to the basement, I am listening. I hear you.” She searched the shadows and saw no flicker of movement. The room was darkening by the minute.
“If you let me out, we can talk about this. Let’s be reasonable here.”
A quiet scratching broke the stillness of the room. Coral couldn’t make her legs move forward. She pressed her back hard up against the door and tried the handle again. The scratching became more consistent, and Coral recognised the sound of nails on wood.
She searched the walls then, seeking out a flutter of movement in the wallpaper. There wasn’t even a twitch of movement. She turned her head and pressed her ear hard up against the door, hoping for all she was worth for some sign that perhaps Pearl was searching for her. There was only scratching from inside the room.
In this moment, Coral was more than ever determined to be rid of this ghost. It hadn’t harmed her yet, but spying on her whilst bathing, and now, locked in a steadily darkening room was beyond rudeness. Except now she couldn’t summon the anger that let her be brave. All she could feel was a cold sweat and the clammy feel of dirt on her hands. Of the fear slowly choking her into a stillness of her own, afraid to move. How her wet skirts clung to her legs, chilling her in a wintry room. Her breath fogged.
She stood frozen, waiting for the scratching to stop. Waiting for Pearl to call out to her, to open the door from the other side. Surely, Pearl would come searching soon?
Another minute, and the slow scratching stopped. There, in the last of the light bloom from the window, Coral finally saw more letters had scrawled out on the wet floor. She had never been good at reading upside down. She squinted hard, trying to read the letters without leaving the solid door from her back.
“Help” whispered a child’s voice, high pitched and sweet, in her ear. From the space between windows, the darkness moved. Gradually, dark fingers reached out, piercing the light. There was nothing but the shade of an arm.
“Help,” called out a little boy from her other side. Coral started, then turned her head, desperately trying to find the source of the noise. This voice was louder, more demanding.
“What do you want?” Coral whispered.
“HELP” Chorused the children’s voices. Coral jerked forward. Her arms were locked in an undeniable pull that dragged her across the room, straight towards the window. Coral screamed. She couldn’t help it. It ripped from her chest unbidden, the shock of being rushed over the floor jolting her out of her frozen state. She hauled to a sudden stop. Her head was forced down, straining her neck. Coral blinked at the words at her feet.
Upside down, she read the words “HELP IN BASEMENT”
“Coral?” Pearl called out.
“I’m in here!” Coral bellowed. “Get me out.”
“Help,” whispered the voices, “Help. Help. Help.”
The door to the room rattled. “Are you hurt? The door is locked.” Pearl called out.
Coral fought against the hold on her body. She felt pressed on all sides, an invisible force locking her in place. “Let go of me,” Coral rasped through gritted teeth.
“Help..uh. Base..Hel. uss.” The voices flickered in and out of hearing. Coral felt as though every muscle were straining against the pressure on her body.
“Stand back,” the silvery tone of Mr. Acheron permeated through the door. A moment later the door shuddered, though did not break open.
The crushing stress on her limbs was intense, constricting her chest so that Coral could only take smaller and smaller breaths.
The door shook again.
“Alright. I’ll help. I’ll go to the basement. Let me go!” Coral gasped. Her body was released instantaneously, and she fell face first to the floor before she could brace herself. Pain exploded in her nose, a searing heat that forced another cry from her.
“CORAL,” came Pearl’s terrified voice.
The door smashed open, splintering against the wall and scattered over the floor in chunks. Coral rolled to her side, clutching at her nose, and hoping it wasn’t broken. She pulled her hand away, cringing. Her face felt wet.
“What happened?” Mr Acheron asked, his eyes scanning the room.
Pearl hurried across the room, and for a second time that day, Coral was helped to sit up. From the corner of her eye, Coral could see two vaguely human shaped silhouettes slip through the door and down into the corridor.
Coral sat there, unable to make her voice work. Then Pearl said something that Coral would never have thought she would say.
“Is it the ghosts again?”
“Again.” Coral exclaimed. “What do you mean.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Coral. Or are you blind? There are ghosts here. This was an abandoned, creepy manor. I do know some things.” She threw her arms wide, looking exasperated.
“O-oh,” Coral croaked out. She felt a little sheepish then. It wasn’t that she thought Pearl was unobservant, or stupid. Pearl was too soft and gentle for a hard world with things like the inevitable death that faced them all. Sure, she had experienced hardships at her fathers’ hands, and navigating the absurdity of nobility and the upper class, Pearl was aware of those kinds of dangers. The kind that came with friendly smiles with hidden threats tucked away in the corner of their mouths, doubled edged words and cruelty.
Outside of the city, beyond the walls of societal predators, were more dangers that they had never faced. Dangers Coral had wanted to keep Pearl safe from. A new home had meant safety, of leaving behind their rigid life of expectations and rules. It had also meant monsters and creatures that stalked the darkness, giant wolves and massive wasps. She wanted to keep them all from her sister, even if that meant Coral was the shield.
Some shield she was.
Coral had been completely naive with this notion. Of course, Pearl would notice the shadows. Coral hadn’t thought she would actually consider them ghosts, and that was a disservice to her sister.
“Your nose is bleeding,” Mr. Acheron said sympathetically. “Let’s get you downstairs and into the warmth. It’s freezing in here.”
“What happened? You’re covered in muck.” Pearl said, looping an arm through her arm and leading her out the door.
“Uh, well.” Coral stammered. Goodness her head hurt. A fresh wave of pain washed over her as she brushed the back of her hand gently against the bottom of her nose. It came away red and sticky.
Coral didn’t want to tell Pearl anything. She didn’t want to explain the details of the haunting to Mr. Acheron either. He was a paying customer, and haunted Inn’s did not fare well.
“I’ll explain later,” Coral said.
“What, no! You’re going to tell us now.”
Coral whispered beneath her breath as quietly as she could. “I don’t want to upset our guest any further.” Coral widened her eyes, pointedly expressing for Pearl to read between the lines of her sentence. ‘Don’t scare our money away.’
Pearl frowned back at Coral, her lower lip jutting out slightly.
“Please be assured the only thing I find upsetting, is that my host is clearly hurt from a haunting that she is mysteriously keeping the details from me.” Mr. Acheron said, following close behind them.
Coral was aghast. That was it, she had ruined her opportunity for a good review and now it was going to take even longer to encourage clientele. If word spread around town, and it surely would, that Moonflower Inn was disreputable, Coral would never be able to get her business up and running.
She spun on her heel to face him, Pearl wobbling beside her. “Please, let me offer my sincerest apologies. I wasn’t entirely aware of the haunting myself until today. I understand that this is disappointing for you, Mr. Acheron and I will compensate you for the disruption you have experienced in your stay.”
“I have two conditions, and I won’t accept anything less.” Mr. Acheron said simply.
Coral looked at him expectantly. She braced herself against what she might hear. Whenever she had offended someone of high status, it had come with severe downfalls and humiliation. Mr. Acheron was clearly from fine standing. Coral could tell from the cut of his clothes, even if they were worn and his shirt was soiled with blood – oh for the love of all goodness, why hadn’t she laundered his shirt? It hadn’t even occurred to her.
“Please, disperse of the formalities. I get enough of that from my family. I would appreciate it if you could use my first name.”
“I’m sorry?” Coral said, taken aback.
“Caspian,” he offered.
“Of course, I understand if this is too forward. I can continue to maintain honorifics should you prefer.”
“I would be honoured, and please, call me Pearl,” Pearl said breathily.
Coral was stunned. She vaguely took note of the elation lighting up Pearl’s face, her eyes wide and pupils dilated. Although that may have more to do with walking down a dark corridor with only dim candlelight at the landing over thirty feet away.
Coral wasn’t a fool. She wasn’t going to dissuade Mr. Acheron – Caspian from being on friendlier, albeit less respectful terms.
“Caspian, then. It would only be right for you to call me Coral, as well. What is your second request?”
“That you include me in the details of the hauntings and allow my assistance in dealing with the ghost. I can’t think of anything duller than to stay at another Inn without something interesting happening.”