Stepping within the Adventurer’s Guild was like being transported into a whole alternate world. Outside, Direwood's misty streets promised frost-bitten fingers; fog clung to the grey stone buildings in a wispy blanket and a deep chill had settled in well before winter had come.
Inside the guild was deliciously warm, enough so that Coral extricated herself from the cloak she had wrapped tight against the autumn chill. She breathed in deeply. She felt her lungs fill with a scent that put her in mind of a warm summer’s day. Her mind conjured thoughts of crisp apples and burnished grass fields. At the back of her tongue Coral could taste the remnants of a sugary pastry only ever served at the summer solstice festival. Either side of the entrance were two blossoming trees in vibrant vermillion, their twisting roots reaching between the cracks in the flooring.
Coral held a hand out to the stone wall, which was radiating heat. This was magic. The kind that needed constant upkeep and power to maintain. Either Direwood’s Guild master was incredibly powerful, or insanely rich.
Coral had taken Direwood as a humble town. A place that liked to offer patronage to the Dire River that slivered through it using sombre names. A place so far on the edge of civilisation that it was sheer chance that she had stumbled across it. This building spoke otherwise.
A slightly unsettling thought crept through the back of her mind. Coral drew her fingers back. If this kind of magic was used in this place, maybe Direwood wasn’t as obscure as she had originally thought.
The conversations held in the social circles always hedged towards boasting from which region nobles earned their fortune. Crystal mines, fishing towns, sorcery towers and adventurer guilds were tossed arbitrarily in conversations as though boasting was what the elite considered small talk.
But Coral had not once heard of Direwood.
Direwood’s Adventurer Guild was opulence at it’s finest. At least, for such a small town with no one to impress. From the ornate archways leading off in all directions in the perfectly circular hall before her, to the softly glowing gold sigil inlaid at the centre of the floor.
Coral followed behind Silas and stepped over the sign. A small shiver of energy washed over her. More magic, and this time, the sigil had cast its spell over her.
Deep blue banners of fine making hung on each wall and the circular window illuminated the space in a wash of cosy afternoon light. Opposite the entrance door, a large reception desk sat to welcome guests. Its legs had been carved to resemble the roots of large trees, and a single crow had been carved from a branching piece that curved up at one side. Behind this desk the wall was covered in small square wooden shelves, filled with scrolls and books. One section had a display case which held an assortment of daggers. Another was large enough to hold a wooden staff and a Direwood shield.
Elwin stood behind the desk, a pained look on his face as he scrawled with a feathered quill on some parchment.
“Reception duty then?” Silas called out. “I warned you were going to be late.”
Elwin looked up, his eyes brightening as he saw Silas crossing the hall towards him. Silas was so large that Coral and Pearl were hidden behind his physique. Elwin stood straighter, then bowed.
“Master Seolfor, you’re back. That was quick. Is Doctor Thornheart pleased you found her herbs then?”
“No. We didn’t get that far.” He told Elwin, leaning against the desk. “I need two visitor passes. Is Crowcaller in the office?”
“Yes. In a right bad mood, old Crowcaller. Reception duty from four o’clock to midnight every evening this week,” he complained. Elwin dropped his quill and scuffled around in the shelves for a moment, then pulled two brooches from a wooden box before he shoved it haphazardly back on to a shelf, not in the same position. “Normally I only get a night or two. A whole week is a bit much for being late.”
“If you showed up on time, you wouldn’t be stuck with the job,” Silas said unsympathetically. “You mess up Cecil’s organisation, you’ll be given extra duty too.”
Elwin pouted and picked up the box and placed it back where it had been originally. “I was getting in extra sword practice.”
Silas held out his hand for the pins, shaped the same as the Adventurer Guild’s sigil, except it had a brass ring around it. He turned so that he didn’t block Elwin’s view and passed one to both Coral and Pearl. “Pin it to your right.” He instructed.
“Good afternoon, Lady Seaver and Lady Seaver,” Elwin said, finally spotting them. He bowed politely.
“Good afternoon, Elwin,” Coral and Pearl greeted, dipping their heads in a short, barely existent bow.
Coral looked at the pin which thrummed with energy in her hands. On first contact it too had sent tingles rushing over her fingers and up her arms. She turned the pin, inspecting it closer. It looked like a normal brooch, though the power radiating from it was unusual.
“Does this work the same as your guild’s sigil?” Coral asked, looking up.
Elwin inhaled sharply. “Lady Seaver,” he said, staring fixedly at Coral. “What happened to your face? It’s that curse, isn’t it? I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
Really, her black eyes were impressive and her face puffy, but she didn’t think her cleaned up visage was that bad.
“Could have been the curse. It sounded more like the ghosts did it,” Silas said before Coral could answer.
“No! I fell over,” Coral insisted. She could throttle that man! How did he even know Coral was cursed? She looked back at Elwin, realising that he was likely the one to have told. He had been there and was the only one who had left the manor.
“Have you told everyone about the curse?” she asked, though she sounded more accusatory.
“I only told Master Winters! He told Crowcaller and Master Seolfor. Not Me!” Elwin said, defending himself.
This wasn’t particularly good. She had hoped the risk of news spreading of Moonflower Inn being haunted ended with Caspian. What was worse is now she seemed to be building a reputation for herself, thanks to her father.
“I thought this matter would have been handled more delicately,” Coral said more calmly this time. She had to remind herself that he had intended to help by reporting the letters to be dangerous.
“It’s a small town,” Elwin said, shrugging his shoulders. “Everyone knows everyone’s business. Orvil Norwood calls you a scur upon Direwood.”
“He what?” Pearl huffed. She folded her arms across her chest and frowned at Elwin like he himself had insulted her. “How could he possibly? Coral hasn’t done anything.”
Silas snorted. “Orvil Norwood rarely has anything good to say about anyone. Best to just ignore it. Everyone else does.”
“What brings you here then? Is it the ghosts?” Elwin asked. “Will you let me visit again? I’d love to spend a night in a haunted mansion. Will you put in a request to the Guild to remove them? I’ll volunteer.”
Coral shot an exasperated look at Silas. He watched her right back, his face blank and uncaring. Did he even realise that he had just made her life more difficult? Sure it might be true that her Inn was haunted. For now. It didn’t mean Moonflower Inn was going to be haunted forever.
“It’s not ghosts,” Coral said sharply.
“It is ghosts,” Elwin said, looking thrilled.
“It’s a secret,” Silas said furtively. At this, Elwin seemed to practically vibrate with enthusiasm.
Did this man purposely stoke Elwin into a frenzy? Surely, Silas would have known what that would do to the boy. With how much he talked, she doubted Elwin could keep this to himself.
Silas was certainly getting on her own nerves. He hadn’t even consulted her whether he could disclose the information she had told him about her house. What happened to client confidentiality?
She may not be paying, but if the guild was going to handle the Ghoul, then surely, she had a right to it. Technically she would be a client.
“Can I help?” Elwin asked.
“I’ll need to speak to Crowcaller first,” Silas said.
“I’ll go notify her now,” he said, hurrying through an archway.
Silas watched him go, sighed and then walked behind the desk. He picked up the quill Elwin had been using and pulled an open book towards him. He dipped his quill in the ink, then scrawled in a tidy script Coral’s name, and then Pearls with the date. “He always forgets to do this.”
Coral pinned the brooch to her blouse on the right. “What spell is on this?” Coral asked.
Silas dropped the quill on the desk and then closed the book. “It’s just to ensure guests are protected and accounted for. Also, to prevent them from being too rambunctious.”
“Does that happen often?” Pearl asked, peeking over the top of the desk to look at the shield display.
“Not normally. Only on the Night of the Undead.” Silas gathered several scrolls from the desk and turned to the shelving behind him. He picked through the piles before he seemed to find the right shelf and slotted them in.
Coral watched him continue to tidy the desk up. Whoever this Cecil was, she was glad Elwin was there to clear up whatever mess Elwin had left behind. “Did you really need to work Elwin up like that?”
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“He’s a good swordsman and a terrible receptionist. Any paperwork at all and he’ll shirk it. Trust me, working him up is the better option. He’ll interrupt Crowcaller and actually complete the set work if there’s the possibility of him tagging along on an adventure.”
“Would you really take someone along that young to fight a ghoul?” Coral asked. She couldn’t imagine making her younger sister face a monster.
“He needs the experience,” Silas told her. “The best way to learn is vigorous practice and study.”
Coral still didn’t agree with Silas, at least on the whole of exposing the boy to a dangerous animal that even Caspian had trouble dealing with. She kept her mouth firmly shut. It wasn’t her place to argue with an adventurer on how to train. Instead she drew her focus to the two trees, and watched fascinated how the branches would gently sway as if rustled from a non-existent breeze.
Elwin returned a few minutes later and guided them through to the story above and to Crowcaller’s study.
Silas asked for Coral and Pearl to wait outside in the corridor before he returned to collect them. With no chairs to rest on, Coral walked over to a window and wondered how much of her evening was going to be spent waiting.
Silas knocked twice on the wooden door in the corridor, the only one as far as Coral could see, and entered. Elwin rocked on his heels, eyes bright and staring at the door.
From this vantage point, the window overlooked the garden Coral had seen the day before. It was well kept, with a large area of clipped grass at its centre. A manicured garden had been planted with an array of cottage flowers taller than the stone wall that fenced it in. Coral was surprised to see that it was much larger than she had first thought. It was a humble garden, which suited the town more than the inner walls of the guild. At least whoever was responsible for the guild was sensible enough to blend the already tall building in with the rest of Direwood.
Six boys and three girls all clustered in the grass, barely ten years old and all dressed in the Adventurer guild’s uniform. They were being instructed by a teacher in the more traditional garb of a mages robe. She couldn’t hear what was being said, though Coral did watch with interest as the teacher brought their hands together. A soft light-blue glow formed at their cupped hands. He released his hands, and a shockwave of that same blue light shot out and knocked all nine children to the ground.
Coral pressed her hand up against the glass, staring at the children who seemed to squirm after a moment. The manicured garden behind the kids was stripped of its flowers.
“Did you see that?” Coral said to Pearl. “Come look, the teacher just used some kind of spell against the children.”
Pearl hurried over to look. Coral had to move aside to let her see out the small window. “Are they alright?”
“They’ll be fine.”
Coral turned at the unfamiliar sound. A beautiful woman stood behind them, dark brown hair cropped short. She had prominent cheekbones and long black lashes that framed violet eyes. Her lips, turned up in a friendly smile, were painted with a dark shade of red. Coral was unused to women with hair this short. It was societal expectations that women wore their hair long. This woman suited the hairstyle.
She wore the Direwood blue, the same adventurer guild’s overcoat and pantsuit suited for her frame. Even through the form fitting attire, the woman was clearly fit and strong.
She walked over to where Coral and Pearl stood at the window and looked down. “It’s a force push. One of the first spells we teach them. They’re getting in some extra training for the Night of the Undead.”
“Do they fight on that night, then?” Pearl asked, her eyes round with shock. These children were even younger than Elwin. How young was too young to face a monster when you trained to become an adventurer?
The woman chuckled. “No. But it doesn’t hurt for them to learn now if they get into any trouble. We do our best to keep the young ones out of any danger.”
She turned and bowed slightly to them, which Coral and Pearl returned.
“Crowcaller, at your service. Silas tells me you have a little bit of fun for us,” she said. Crowcaller stepped aside with a quiet ‘thunk’ and swept her arm back to the door in the corridor.
“Please come into my office.”
Coral entered the room though her steps slowed as she walked across a lavish blue rug. A carved desk sat before a floor to ceiling window, with three chairs bundled around the desk. One of which Silas sat with his arms crossed and waiting.
The room was made of the same grey stone as the rest of the guild. Framing two sides of the study was an impressive display of weapons. Coral was not educated on the different types of swords, spears or even axes, but the variety was astounding. No jewels glistened on any of the weapons, though a few did give off an ominous shimmer of magic. These were real weapons, not used for ceremonial purposes.
Coral tried not to look like she was gaping at them. She likely failed at this, as she stopped at one particular polearm she recognised.
She had seen it in the posters around the city for years. Three runes had been carved into the steel along the single edged blade. Longer than Coral’s forearm and forged with a hook on the reverse side, the curved blade attached to the end of a two meter-long pole.
Its name was Blacktalon. The glaive made of shadowsteel. When wielded, it sung with the souls it had taken. Or so, the flyers had said.
“Please Lady Seaver, take a seat,” Crowcaller said.
Coral hurried over and sat furthest from Silas. She stared at the woman who took her place behind the desk. Coral had never paid much attention to the adventurers that earned themselves titles from their expeditions, though some had gotten famous enough that even she was aware of these names. Coral may not have known exactly who wielded Blacktalon, but she had known about the weapon. It had been the height of conversation topics. For a brief period not one day went by without mention of how many lives had been slain, or saved, by the sentient weapon.
Hundreds of monsters killed. Countless towns saved. The king had even tried to appoint the wielder of Blacktalon as his champion, and much to the countries shock, the opportunity had been turned down. How could an adventurer with so much renown and experience, end up in a small town on the edge of nowhere?
Regardless, Coral sat in awe across from the woman, now reassured that whomever the guild sent after the ghoul, they were more than capable to handle it. Did Crowcaller wield Blacktalon? Or was it on loan? Or was the polearm kept in Direwood for safe keeping?
“Welcome, Lady Seaver and Lady Seaver. Silas has told me about your unfortunate problem.”
Pearl bobbed her head yes. Coral worked hard to force her tongue to not say something unrelated and stupid such as ‘Can I have your autograph?’
She had never been big on names, and there would be ample opportunity after this meeting to establish a friendship. It would be convenient having an excellent adventurer on her side should she ever find the occasion to arise. Clearly, Crowcaller had impeccable taste. Once she had rid Moonflower Inn of its mould, Coral could invite her along for an evening of fine entertainment, whatever that may pertain.
Coral tucked one foot behind the other. She had a lot of work ahead of her should Coral ever get to a point where she could lure Crowcaller to the manor. “I’m afraid I’ll require someone to terminate the beast. Mr. Acheron has already slain the monster once, however Silas has informed us that it requires a particular way to be handled,” She said.
“Yes. It’s reanimated. As unfortunate as our current circumstances are, we are obligated to report this to the local town guards. They are dealing with an unfortunate event from last night, and we have reason to believe that this monster is related to the attacks,” Crowcaller said, folding her hands neatly before her.
“Understandable, I have no objections.”
“Good. We will also require you to vacate your premises while we conduct a search. We cannot guarantee that the Ghoul will be dealt with immediately. Temporary accommodation can be secured for you. Ghouls tend to target individuals who manage to survive an attack, so it’s in your best interest to remain here for now where we can keep you safe. Silas is unsure if the creature has burrowed into your basement, or if that is where it originated. Which would be incredible, considering no one has lived in that place for twenty-five years.”
“Do you know the history then? Of the mansion I mean,” Coral said.
“I take it that you’re referring specifically to Ghouls being created by necromancers, yes?”
Coral nodded her head, as if it was what she was referring to. She hadn’t. She hadn’t known that was how Ghouls came about. She had thought that they were the spawn of some monsters in a mishap coupling. She had hoped to enquire about the ghosts in her manor.
“That mansion has had any items confiscated, but considering a hidden room had been found… It’s a thought. Ghouls generally have a big appetite,” Crowcaller said, leaning back in her chair and looking thoughtful. “I still doubt the possibility. We would have noticed if a Ghoul was pinching folk from around here. I would have noticed.”
Silas had been sitting quietly, though his arms jerked at this. “We have people go missing every year. Every Night of the Dead. People getting taken when travelling. Random monsters.”
“Yes, but those situations are different,” Crowcaller persisted. “Ghouls have a distinct…pattern,” she finished, altering whatever she was about to say with a quick glance at Pearl and Coral. Whatever it had been, Crowcaller had deemed it too barbaric to be said in front of them.
Coral found that she didn’t mind. The distinguishable differences monsters left behind in their wake wasn’t something Coral was particularly keen to learn. It was always death and disembowelment and a brand of agony that never sat well with her.
“I was hoping to speak to you regarding the manor,” Coral said. While her shoulders were pulled back and square, an old habit long enforced, she checked in mentally with herself before continuing.
This next part was questionable if it would be granted. While Coral and Pearl were now the owners of the manor, it did not mean she was privy to any information collected for the estate. Coral was willing to pay a small sum if it meant she could review any documentation. Any information about the manor could potentially lead her to removing the ghosts.
“If possible, may I review the records kept from those searches?”
Crowcaller’s amiable expression turned cold. Her eyes cut into Coral like knives, and she had to work to not wither beneath that stare. Silas turned in his seat to look at her as well.
"Why?” Crowcaller asked in a single, drawn-out syllable as cold as winters breath.
Coral’s fingers twitched to bunch the fabric of her skirt. “Practicality. I intend to use the manor as an Inn. While I’m not interested in any tools or objects, I am interested in the history.”
“It’s haunted,” Silas provided.
“Will you stop that,” Coral snapped. She was unsettled by the hardness that turned Crowcaller from amicable to hostile in a mere moment. So it felt good to release some of that pent up frustration. Besides, she still hadn’t told Silas off for even revealing information that was not his to give.
“I intend to deal with the ghosts before any rumours can spread.”
Silas watched her, unmoved by her frown. “We can remove the ghosts too, but that will cost you. The ghoul is under our jurisdiction, considering it’s the likely source of the recent murders. Unless it’s some unfortunate pet you’ve dragged along when you moved in.”
“We did not,” Pearl said indignantly, looking aghast at the mere thought of it. “How would we even be able to move it? I don’t even know where they live.”
“It’s too early to say that the ghoul is what we’re looking for,” Crowcaller interjected.
“I scent matched. The poisonous rot always has a distinct smell,” Silas said, shuffling back into his chair more comfortably.
Coral had some idea of what Silas meant, having been progressively irritated by her enhanced senses from Caspian’s bite. She had been close enough to the Ghoul to smell that sickly-sweet decaying flesh. She hoped to never have to smell it again. It was subtle, but there was a slight variation in the way that rotting corpses smelt compared to the Ghoul. It was more than decay. Whatever it was, Coral had no name for it.
If Coral had been able to detect the subtleties in rotting flesh, then how was Silas able to? She couldn’t imagine he would ever let a vampire bite him. Silas had said that she smelt like a vampire, though Coral had no idea what kind of scent he was picking up on.
Did she still smell like a vampire now?
Coral raised an arm and brushed away her loose hair curling by her face, then sniffed. She couldn’t smell anything different. Maybe she couldn’t smell herself as she was already used to her own scent.
Did an adventurer hone their sense of smell to detect monsters? Silas certainly seemed to. Adventurers spent years becoming lethal hunters, constantly training with weapons and perfecting their skills. It was necessary. An adventurer had the highest mortality rate of any occupation. But scent?
“I will take your request under consideration,” Crowcaller said. “In the mean time, please wait here until we return. As Silas said, we can include the removal of the spirits from the manor, for an additional fee. We can add it to the sum that you already owe us.”
“The money I owe?” Coral repeated.
Crowcaller reached over and pulled open a draw. She withdrew her hand and dropped a stack of envelopes, all wax sealed, addressed to ‘Coral Farley’ in her father’s familiar script written across the surface of the paper.
She had forgotten about those. Damn her father into the deepest cesspit, along with that bloody ghoul. And curse that debt he forced on her. Hadn’t Elwin said they could annul the fee of the other letters due to her experiencing a harmful curse?
She let her shoulders droop a little. She didn’t even know what the curse did. “No. I’ll handle the ghosts.”