Crowcaller had confirmed that her debt to the Adventurer’s Guild was now settled. Coral took great pleasure in instructing Crowcaller to burn all the letters that had been sent. It was a standard precaution to burn the hateful letters in a brazier outside, away from anyone or anything should any more letters contain spells that could cause potential harm. Naturally, there was. The brazier cracked and fell apart as the letters were fed one by one into the fire, the metal rusted and flaking as though it had been left out to erode over many years. Clouds of black or brown magic power rose up with the smoke. As Coral had technically not touched or opened these letters, and no one had come into contact with the contents inside, the magic was aimless. The blooms of magic disintegrated into the air with the smoke.
“What do you suppose that spell did?” Pearl asked as a puff of green hued magic energy spiraled up then out like a mushroom. It didn’t escape Coral that even though she was the intended recipient, it wasn’t a guarantee Pearl would be free of whatever the letter held. She didn’t know if the spell was directed at the person who opened the envelope. The seal was designed that it would open on Coral’s touch alone, but there were ways around this. Coral didn’t want to put the time or resources into finding out. Eirek Farley had favored Pearl more, perhaps that had been taken into consideration when casting curses on the letters? Then again, he had gambled his money away, and Coral had taken what was left of it. It had all fit neatly into an ornate, carved box. He likely couldn’t afford to be specific with the spellcraft.
“Maybe it sent mold spores out into your home,” Coral said, thinking of the molding walls in the manor. She was going to have to sort that out before she tackled another bedroom. Breathing in mold spores was not good for your health, and the Winter Salon had one of the few working fireplaces where the chimney wasn’t blocked up.
“Make all your plants whither away and die?” Pearl suggested. “It wouldn’t have been anything to hurt you, otherwise the letter never would have reached you.”
“The colour of the magic doesn’t always indicate what type of spell has been used,” Crowcaller said, watching the flames with delight. “This is giving me an idea for our spring festival, the town would look great with the lights sparking off clouds of magic like this. Everything is so gray all the time.”
“I like that idea. What about using this at the midwinter festival?” Coral asked.
“Everyone is so busy cleaning up after the Night of the Undead that it’s little more than a large feast for everyone held in the town square. Nothing like what you would do in the city,” Crowcaller said, tossing another envelope into the fire, now burning on the cobbles at the back of the Guild. From here, Coral could see straight across to The Dog’s House and into what she thought could be the kitchen’s windows. She hadn’t seen Silas or anyone from his team since they had returned to town. Doctor Thornheart was still tending to Norden Ruesong. Coral held out hope that the boy would wake soon. There had been too many lives lost already.
“It’s some good eating though, and many like to stay after the fighting’s been done to gorge themselves on the food. Everyone will be too worn to bother doing much more than setting up a few braziers and cook, once the animals have been slaughtered. Dewbraid has the best pigs for eating. Something just tastes different about them.”
“I’ll be sure to purchase one. Will he slaughter it or am I best to bring it to the butchers.” Coral said, thoughtfully, certain she had heard the name before.
Crowcaller smiled. “You’re still a city dweller at heart, aren’t you. Those who can, bring something to the feast. The whole town sits together and enjoys what pickings there are. You’ll be expected to bring something pretty grand, considering you’ve bought that old mansion. People would expect you to have more coin than the others in town.”
That was true enough and was hardly a different expectation from the city. Except for bringing food to the celebration. Those in the city took the opportunity to host grand parties, and most families gathered for the midwinter feast. Those that had deep pockets were always in competition with one another to keep appearances up. If they had anything less than what was considered well-to-do, then it sowed gossip and mockery among the rich.
“Any suggestions of what to bring?” Pearl asked.
“Whatever you bring will be fine as long as it can feed a few mouths. Most farmers will bring what livestock they slaughter. Others bring pies or roasted vegetables. A hearty meal after a long week of cleanup is the best.”
“I could bake a cake,” Pearl said brightly. “I’m a terrible cook, but I can bake.”
Coral kept her agreement with Pearl’s statement to herself. She likely had an evening ahead of her with Pearls brussels sprout soup, and she didn’t want to make it worse with Pearl’s attempt to force in more of vegetables than strictly necessary. They fell quiet as Crowcaller fed more letters into the fire, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Coral pulled her cloak tight around herself. The warmth of the flames helped a little, but today felt exceptionally cold. She wasn’t looking forward to going back to her cold manor. The evening before had felt balmy, and even more so with the heat of Mr. Claysend’s funeral pyre. Several deaths in such a small town weren’t unheard of, but it had a devastating effect. Coral still had a black crystal tucked away in her pocket, a necessary evil she told herself, she had ghosts inherited from the land. She deserved to take a cemetery protection stone to keep herself safe from the ghosts that haunted the halls of Moonflower Inn.
“Do you know when the tunnel in the cemetery will be filled in?” Coral asked, filling in the silence for the sake of conversation more than real curiosity. She was still too tired to be truly curious.
Crowcaller gave Coral a long suffering look. “I wish I could say. A town meeting will be held this week to discuss it. We need to source the materials and laborers to fill it in. It won’t be ignored,” Crowcaller added at the stricken look on Coral’s face.
“And there are plenty of resources nearby. At the very worst, it will be boarded up to prevent the undead from leaving. The cemetery is one of the few places in town the council agreed to barricade properly. If I had my way, this whole town would have a wall right around it. Instead, I’m stuck with old men afraid of change, even if it meant the betterment of Direwood.”
“That sounds frustrating,” Pearl said gently.
“It is,” Crowcaller said, feeding the last of the envelopes into the fire. There was a loud pop and something yellow oozed out of the letter, bubbling as the flames licked along the edges. It vaguely smelled of burning hair and stomach bile. Coral was glad that whatever the goo was, hadn’t touched her.
“I’d fund the whole thing myself, if I didn’t have to contend with Robard Dewbraid. Curse him and his tasty pigs,” Crowcaller said halfheartedly.
“Does the town not have any defenses?” Coral asked, perplexed by this notion. Direwood was the first town out of the wilds. Monsters prowled out of the woods all the time. They had a regular occurrence of Undead swarming the streets. Surely they had something in place to keep the town safe. It wouldn’t be standing if there wasn’t.
“We have barricades at the entrances. You’ve walked past them. There used to be a palisade that encircled a part of the town, down by the main square. But it kept getting damaged and required constant repairs. It also burned down two years ago.”
There was a small barricade that had been set up, but Coral was so used to their presence at all the towns she had passed through on her way to this remote place, that she hardly noticed them at all.
“It’s something to be expected, the upkeep and a constant demand for labour. But the only availability are farmer’s lads or the like, and they’re needed on their family’s land,” Crowcaller crossed her arms, frowning slightly at the fire as it slowly burnt itself out.
“Are there no carpenters in town?” Coral asked, a slight twinge of worry in her tone. Moonflower Inn needed a carpenter to fix walls and cracks that she wasn’t able or knowledgeable enough to know how to mend. If Moonflower Inn was to earn a reputation, she didn’t want it on the back of shoddy workmanship rumours.
“There is one,” Crowcaller reassured her. “But you’ll need to get your name down quick. There is a long list of patrons vying for Mr. Wiggy’s attention.”
Crowcaller leant forward a little and lowered her voice. “Between you and I, his work is more suited to the humbler folk. His skill with the more intricate work is much left to be desired. I can give you the contact details of the carpenters I employed for the Guild,” Crowcaller said.
“I’d appreciate that,” Coral said, though she very much doubted she could employ someone that Crowcaller had used to upgrade the Adventurer’s Guild. Her last several days there had assured her that the woodwork had been immaculate. Her purse needed consideration, and she did not have enough. Not unless she had a constant flow of clientele. Her only paying guest had been Caspian Acheron, and his stay had been cut short and nothing less than a disaster.
Crowcaller kicked at the last of the ashes, stamping out the heat with the heal of her supple, doe-skin boots. Coral eyed them enviously. The Jack of plate Crowcaller had given Coral still lay on the floor in the guestroom. Crowcaller hadn’t even blinked when she saw the sorry state the armor was in. She simply clapped a hand on Coral’s shoulder and had said “I would rather the armor be damaged than for another to be dead,” and left it where it lay.
It must be nice to not have to worry about money like that.
----------------------------------------
That morning, Coral returned to the manor, her leg pinching the whole ride. Crowcaller had arranged for them to be taken by wagon by a local farmer, Mr. Shepherd, so that Coral didn’t need to walk the whole way. The farmer, whom Coral had great difficulty understanding with his garbled words, spoke the entire way and she had no idea what the man was saying. By the slight panicked look on her face, neither did Pearl. Though, every now and then, Coral was able to discern some words and was able to make what she hoped were appropriate responses.
“See’th fing, I ain’t seen’thm roiled up. I thour’ to me’self. Thas fey, tis. Hbglins,” he said as though he just said something impressive.
“Quite?” Coral said politely. From what she could gather, Mr. Shepherd had a spooked herd of sheep. At least, she assumed it was sheep. If anything, it was likely the ghoul had run past them in the last several days. That wouldn’t be an issue anymore, not until another creature came slinking out of the wild.
“Aary,” Mr. Shepherd said, then leant over the side of the wagon and spat on the ground for what could have easily been the seventh time. The first instance Pearl had seen the weathered man do this, she had to turn her face away lest she offended him with her disgusted expression.
Thankfully, the manor’s gate was just up ahead. Mr. Shepherd pulled up his two donkeys, spitting words that she was sure the animals knew, or at least were used to, as Coral had no idea if he was swearing at them or not. He certainly sounded angry.
“Thank you very much for your assistance, Mr. Shepherd,” Pearl said. She climbed down from the wagon gracefully and bobbed a polite curtsy to him.
“Ah, yer too kind, girly,” he garbled a little clearer this time, though it sounded almost disparaging. “Keep’tyer self oot th’woods. Hbglins bite ye’know.”
“Ah, yes,” Pearl said a little uncertainly. She held her arm out for Coral to balance herself as she inched down from the wagon without jarring her leg too much.
“Again, thank you,” Coral said, turning to look back up at Mr. Shepherd. His attention was fixated on the manor, and his mouth pressed into a grim line.
“Don’t vite me in, I’ve no business with curse land. Yer need t’keep oot too, if yer know what’s best,” he said darkly.
“I’ll take that under advisement, Mr. Shepherd. You’ve been very kind in helping us today. If I see you next in The Dog’s House, I’ll buy your next round,” Coral told him.
“S’good of yer,” he said, then frowned down at them, as though he were just noticing something for the first time. “Yeh got a sband then?”
Coral’s face became very fixed in place to keep her amicable expression as her mind worked hard to understand what he had asked. “I’m sorry, could you say that again?”
“Yer sband?”
Pearl bent her head close to Coral’s ear and whispered, “I think he’s asking about your husband.”
“Oh,” Coral said, feeling a rush of understanding and then almost instantly irritation. What business was it of Mr. Shepherds if she had a husband or not. She was doing fine without one as it was. “No husband,” she told him.
“S’big place, with lots a beasts aboot. An on curse land an all. Yer carn’ be too careful oot ‘ere. Yer need mor’n yerself. Me lad can ‘elp. Strappin lad ee’is. Does delivree’s when tis slow. He’ll keep yer good,” he said, scratching at his patchy beard. At that, he seemed satisfied with the conversation, as he garbled at the donkeys. They flicked their ears then trundled about on the road to turn back the way they had come. Mr. Shepherd gave them a last nod of his head, then took up a jaunty whistling tune as he made his way back to Direwood.
“That was the last person I expected to enquire about your marital status,” Pearl said when Mr. Shepherd was out of ear shot.
“Wait until you get a little older. Someone will inevitably bring it up,” Coral said.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Pearl sighed in a resigned sort of way, then turned to Moonflower’s gate. Coral dug around in her pockets for the ring of old keys. They had only been returned to her that morning. She passed the ring to Pearl, who spent a long time trying to find the correct key to fit into the gate’s lock.
When Coral hobbled up the drive to the manor, the gothic mansion looked as imposing as it always had. Coral slowed down so that she was barely ambling along, taking in the area around her. A carpet of moonflowers covered the ground beneath the tall trees, taking root in the spaces that Coral and Pearl had cleared, and even spreading out into the drive itself. She hadn’t really explored much of the grounds, only the long tree lined drive up to the manor and sparingly dipped in at the greenhouse.
Crowcaller had promised to send Elwin along once he had finished his training for the day with the manor’s documents. There had been a map of the estate that she wanted to study before heading out into the grounds not knowing what to expect. After the ghoul incident, she was a little more hesitant about where she went poking her nose.
Pearl bent and picked a few of the flowers, bunching them in her hands. “They grow so fast here,” she said, looking down at the moon shaped petals. “They’re supposed to only bloom at night, but these all have their flowers open during the day,” she pointed out.
“Probably because it’s so dark and gloomy here,” Coral said lightly. Direwood was perhaps the grayest, dampest town they had come to yet. She didn’t mind, the forest was lush and beautiful, and the earth was a rich brown. It was good soil to grow things in. Coral added this to her list of things to expand into, a place this far from the city went without many spoils and luxuries. With a little care and imagination, she could perhaps bring something to Direwood that they didn’t have already.
She could get bees to produce their own honey. She had land that she could grow and cultivate. Her eyes roamed over the area, then stopped as they fell upon the front façade of the manor where a crack slowly crawled up and to the edge of a broken window. Coral hadn’t recalled that window being damaged, but there it was.
Coral made the few steps up to the front door, took the keys from Pearl and selected the correct key. The front door unlocked, the handle turned, and the door swung open all of its own. Both she and Pearl stepped back hastily. The entrance foyer remained quiet and still.
A minute passed, then two. Coral reached into her pocket again and curled her fingers around the black stone she had kept from the graveyard. She couldn’t sense anything from the stone, and when nothing happened, Coral took this as a good sign. “I suppose we should go in,” she said, cautiously stepping through the door.
Pearl followed her down the corridor to the Winter Salon. Coral was feeling a touch vulnerable and had no real desire to go up to her bedroom where one of the haunting incidents had happened. Here in the Winter Salon, it would be warm once she had the fire stoked, and it oddly felt like a place of refuge after she had spent the night in there when the ghoul attacked her. Pearl knew what she wanted before Coral had to ask. Pearl quickly stacked some kindling into the hearth, along with thicker pieces of firewood, and lit it. Coral sat down on one of the chairs closest to the fire, listening as the old manor creaked and groaned around them, a ghostly chorus of welcome home sounds.
The room was a mess. Everything had been shifted or moved. The curtains were bunched in the wrong way, the chairs had been strewn about and a candelabra lay on the floor. It wasn’t a surprise. She would hope that the Adventurers that had searched her home had done a thorough job. Coral did not want a repeat of an unexpected monster in one of the rooms. Did ghosts count as monsters? That might be an inevitable encounter sooner or later.
“How are you doing, are you in pain?” Pearl asked as she picked up the candlesticks from the ground.
“I’m well enough. Though, the stitches keep pinching. Are they supposed to pinch this much?” Coral said.
Pearl shrugged then placed the candles back into the candelabra, then setting it down on the small table by the chair. “I’m not sure, I’ve never had stitches before. I can’t imagine that it helped that you walked that far when you’re still healing. I think we should get a horse and carriage; it will make things a little easier.”
“It’s been a few days since I’ve been bandaged up. I’m sure it will be fine,” Coral said unconcerned, ignoring the pain in her leg. It hadn’t been that far to walk, the drive was long, but it hadn’t deterred her. At least she hadn’t had to walk all the way from Direwood. The fire in the hearth grew brighter as it took to the wood, the warmth beginning to spread throughout the room.
“I could go for some chocolate cake,” Coral said, hoping Pearl would take pity on her.
“You need something more filling than cake. I’ll go see what we have. I don’t think we have much food,” Pearl said. She picked up a stray pillow and fluffed it, which didn’t have a great effect on the moth-eaten material, then tucked it behind Coral’s back.
“Stay here and rest, I don’t think you should be walking around on that leg.”
“It was only up the drive,” Coral mumbled. Pearl left Coral for the kitchen. Coral was surprised that she was so willing to go about the manor by herself. Pearl hadn’t wanted to be left alone in any room before. Perhaps her sister was becoming braver.
Several quiet minutes passed, where Coral sat motionless and listening to the creaking of the old manor around her and the steady crackle of fire. Coral had refused to be frightened before of the shadows that slunk about the darkened corners of the room, or the odd squeal of hinges as a door opened of its own accord. Now, she was starting to accept that it was just another part of her inn, ghosts or not, old houses had quirks, and this manor definitely had those. Would the manor speak in creaks and groans once the spirits had been removed? She couldn’t assume that there were only the ghost children either. She had seen taller shadow figures.
Pearl’s butter blonde hair could be seen poking around past the door frame to the salon, stepping backwards as she focused on something in the corridor. Coral couldn’t see anything from where she sat, so she stood.
“What is it?” Coral asked.
Pearl started, knocking her shoulder into the door frame. “Oh, nothing,” Pearl said, composing herself into a more relaxed posture. Coral watched her cross the room and place another log on the fire unnecessarily.
“We’re very low on food. I could try to cobble together a meal, though I can’t guarantee it will be any good,” Pearl said.
“I’ve got some things ordered. Salt, cheese. Mostly I ordered supplies to fix up the manor,” Coral said.
“We can’t live off of salty cheese,” Pearl said, frowning prettily.
“I could,” Coral said. Why couldn’t she look as pretty as Pearl did when frowning? She shifted her leg so that she was a little more comfortable. It was itching again, and she wanted to scratch at her leg fiercely.
Pearl sat down beside Coral and clicked her tongue in annoyance. “I should have gotten food when we were in town. I’ll have to go back this afternoon if we want to fill our stomachs. Unless you’re happy with plain cabbage.”
“I thought we had mushrooms and potatoes,” Coral said.
“No potatoes,” Pearl affirmed. “We do have an abundance of flour, butter and chocolate. Mysteriously,” Pearl added.
“Vital household ingredients, of course we have those,” Coral said seriously. “I guess you will have to make your poor old sister chocolate cake now,” Coral said, wincing and gently placing her hand to the top of her leg as though it pained her. It did, but not nearly as much as Coral was pretending.
Pearl watched her do this, concern pulling her eyebrows down a little. “Oh, very well. But I’m still going back to town with a list of real food. I think maybe I should handle the kitchen supplies from now on,” Pearl said. “Stop ordering so much chocolate.”
“If that’s what you want,” Pearl said encouragingly. If Pearl took over the kitchen completely, surely her cooking would improve. Her baking was perfection.
“You should stay here and rest. I’ll be in the kitchen,” Pearl said gently. She picked up a second pillow and placed it beside coral and the arm of the chair so that she was cushioned on all sides. Pearl stepped out of the room, glancing back at Coral like a worried hen.
Was Coral like this towards Pearl? Surely not, she wasn’t that motherly. Whatever new development this was, Coral hadn’t been expecting it. Nonetheless, if Pearl wanted to challenge her fear, Coral wouldn’t get in her way.
She really hoped that the influence she had on her sister wasn’t conducive to silly, reckless choices. Coral had demonstrated that she wasn’t immune to such stupid notions. Acting as bait to lure a ghoul was a stupid choice, inevitably leading to Mr. Claysend’s death and leaving a family to grieve.
On the evening of Mr. Claysend’s funeral, Little Valerie Claysend had stood by her father’s pyre, tears trailing down her cheeks. She had held her head high, hand in hand with her mother. Mrs. Claysend had trembled as she watched on, murmuring words that only her daughter could hear. The fire had caught whatever words spilled out and had been fed to the flames that burned away with the body of Arthfael Claysend. The last words he could take with him to the grave. He would never get to tell his wife sweet nothings or hold her through the night. He wouldn’t see Valerie walk in his footsteps. He would never get to tell them how much he loved them.
Coral pushed her hair away from her face and took a deep breath. It didn’t ease the grief or guilt. She knew, logically, that she wasn’t to blame for Mr. Claysend’s death. He had been an Adventurer. Death was a risk all Adventurers took when facing down monsters. Still, if she hadn’t been there-. Coral huffed and got to her feet awkwardly. She couldn’t think like that. What was done, was done. She couldn’t erase the past.
Unable to stay still any longer, she gathered up fallen pillows, straightened a table, swept dust from the fireplace mantle and continued around the room until everything had been set in its place. Moving about and having something to do felt better than doing nothing at all, so when she finished dusting and the restlessness hadn’t eased, Coral headed for the kitchen.
She found it empty of Pearl, though proof that she had actually been in the kitchen was by the tell-tale bowl of leftover batter and the smell of baking chocolate cake. There were scattered pots and pans, and what seemed like the entire contents of the kitchen cupboards strewn about the place. The Adventurers, in their pursuit to discover any further nefarious necromancer objects, had upturned every nook, and left an awful mess in their wake. Coral was grateful that they were thorough in their search, as far as she could tell, but they could have tidied up after themselves rather than leave her and Pearl to clean up. The Winter Salon was sparse in the way of knick-knacks and storage, so that room had been spared the complete devastation that had befallen the kitchen. Coral didn’t want to think about what state the other rooms were in.
Pearl had started to clean, evident by the sink full of foamy hot water and an armful of utensils. Coral set to work on these, folding her blouse sleeves up and sinking her hands into the water. She set to work on scrubbing a wooden spoon, a pair of tongs and three matching ladles. She focused on the motions, the feel of warm water on her skin, and let her mind rest as she let the task consume her. It had taken a few minutes at first, scrubbing dishes was a chore that let her mind wander, but as the pile of clean utensils grew, she found that her mind quietened. Coral had worked through the whole sink and was starting to towel them dry when Pearl returned to the kitchen.
“Coral,” Pearl said, exasperated. She snatched the cloth from Coral’s hands. “You should be resting, go sit down.”
“I’m capable of handling dishes,” Coral said, picking up the pile of dried utensils and placing them in the jug near the stove. Pearl followed, and Coral bristled. She opened her mouth to have Pearl leave her be, when Pearl reached out and opened the oven. Which immediately made Coral shut her mouth and watch with put upon patience as Pearl slid the cake from the oven and placed it on the stove top. She inserted a knife and when it came out clean, Pearl gave a small nod of her head. The cake was done. Coral’s mouth watered at the scent.
“I’ll let the cake cool first, but I won’t give you any until you go sit down,” Pearl said, her attention focused on removing the cake from the tin and setting it on a wooden board to cool.
“I’ve nothing to do in there,” Coral said, huffing. “And the manor is in complete disarray.”
There was so much to do if they wanted the rooms ready in time for the Night of the Undead. Adventurers were coming in mid-winter, and it was an opportunity that Coral didn’t want to squander. Mr. Shepherds comments of her manor being on cursed land wasn’t actually that far off from the truth. If word spread throughout town that a ghoul had taken up residence in her manor, and that said manor was haunted, she would never attract anyone to her inn unless it was the wayward Adventurer.
Pearl turned and crossed her arms, giving Coral her best stern look. “I will clean. You are to go sit by the warm fire for the day and rest. You’ll only hurt yourself if you keep pushing yourself like this.”
Coral, with the risk that Pearl wouldn’t give her the chocolate cake, begrudgingly went back to the Winter Salon. Pearl arrived a moment later with a rolled blanket tucked under her arm and a serving tray laden with a large helping of chocolate cake for the both of them, and what was more, their favourite teapot. The colourful flowers hand-painted with a sky blue background was cheerful in the Winter Salon. Coral ought to decorate the room with some more colour for the colder months. At the moment, it was mostly wood paneling and dark. She really needed to sort out the mold that was growing on the far wall. She shifted in her seat so that she was more comfortable and couldn’t see that particular annoyance. The slip of parchment in her pocket felt heavy, the name of the carpenter and his address that Crowcaller had left her with weighing on her mind. Surely it wasn’t that long of a wait for someone local to assist her?
Pearl set the serving tray on the small table before the seat, unfurled the blanket in a flourish and promptly tucked it around Coral. She added another log to the hearth before coming to sit down beside her, and then passed over the slice of cake to her. It was still gloriously warm and moist. Coral closed her eyes on the first bite, her tastebuds singing. She chewed slowly to savor every moment. This was lovely. If it wasn’t for her leg still bothering her, this moment would be perfect.
She deserved a perfect, quiet moment after the last several events that she had. It was a shame she couldn’t indulge a little more with some wine. Alas, she would have to wait for another night to do such a thing. Hopefully, without having to visit Orvil Norwood at The Widow’s Poison the next morning.
Pearl picked at her food, only eating small bites as though she were at one of their dinner parties. When Coral had finished her slice, Pearl offered up her portion.
“What’s bothering you?” Coral asked.
Pearl bit her lower lip and stared at the fire. “There’s been something I have been meaning to tell you, but you’ve been so unwell, and I don’t want to upset you.”
Coral set her plate down on the table, poured Pearl a cup of tea and added extra sugar to it before pressing it into Pearl’s hands. “I’m not going to get upset,” she assured Pearl.
“Whatever it is, just tell me.”
“I think I might know who the ghost children are,” Pearl said all in a rush.
“How? And Who?” Coral said. Coral had not been expecting that. Was this why Pearl was willing to go about the manor on her own?
Pearl looked a little sheepish, her blue eyes flicking back beneath her long lashes at Coral. “I was reading the information the guild had,” she said.
Coral relaxed, unconcerned by this. For a moment she thought Pearl had developed some hairbrained idea and snuck off to the manor in the night while Coral had been acting as bait. Not that being bait was any less idiotic.
“And I was looking at that painting of the Rayner family,” Pearl went on, trying to get the words out quickly, as though she thought Coral would be angry with her. She wasn’t. There wasn’t anything in those documents that would give Pearl nightmares. Hopefully every last remnant of the necromancer had been removed from the manor.
“The two children were never found. Or the wife, what was her name, Lady Sabina? Well, your description of the two ghosts sounds like children. They interacted with you in the children’s nursery. You saw them. And there were no other mentions of any other children at the manor, only cooks and servants, much too old. I think the two ghosts are the Rayner children,” Pearl finished, face slightly pink.
“That’s a thought,” Coral said, thinking. She poured herself a cup of tea for something to do as she turned the thought over in her head.
“Even if they had died of unfortunate circumstances here, its possible their bodies were reanimated and wandered off over the years, only to be found by the town when cleaning up after the Night of the Undead. Who knows what’s happened to their physical selves now, but their spirit would remain here, where… where they died,” she finished softly.
“I’ve seen taller silhouettes before, much taller than children,” Coral said slowly. “Those could have been the trick of the light rather than an actual ghost. But I wouldn’t rule your theory out. Elwin did say that many people disappeared over time. Who knows what happened to them.”
“I want to see if I can talk to them,” Pearl said, clutching at her cup, her fingers playing along the handle. “I want to know if I can help them. They had asked for help.”
Coral leant back in her seat and sipped her tea. It warmed her inside as she debated what to say next to Pearl. “Elwin and I had planned to remove the ghosts once the ghoul had been handled. We can’t have a haunted inn, it’ll ruin us. The dead turn violent over time.”
“If we can help them, they should be able to move on. We’ll have the inn back, and I would feel better knowing that I helped them rather than had the spirits destroyed or whatever it is that happens when Adventurer’s deal with the dead. I heard that they need a special weapon to kill the dead, it absorbs their soul.” Pearl lifted the cup to her lips and said quietly. “What a horrible thing to happen to children.”