As far as funerals went, this was one of the saddest that Coral had ever attended. She was sure that her own mother’s funeral was just as sad, but in a very different way. She had lost her own mother when she was a child, and in her memory, it was a distant whirlwind of half remembered faces and confused glimpses.
People she had barely known murmuring condolences. Her straight back, shoulders aching and laced tightly in her dress. The uncontrollable shaking. The disdainful glare from her father. The casket being lowered into the ground, the tombstone a simple marker for a life once lived. Her father’s friends convincing him to join them moments after the burial had finished to attend a toad race, leaving her to host the remainder of the ceremony.
Coral had been thirteen at the time, Pearl only two years younger than her. Even then she had been forced into mourning garb, her face veiled as she couldn’t keep the tears from flowing down her cheeks.
She had tried to keep her crying as silent as possible. It was shameful for someone of their status to openly weep, as though they were above emotions.
Her father was just heartless. Her mother had been forced to marry Eirek Farley and it had been her downfall. The only happy memories she ever had was when it was just Pearl, Coral and her Mother.
Coral didn’t even get to say goodbye before her mother passed away, taken by a sickness she didn’t even know she had.
She wished she could have said all the hateful things in her heart to her father on his deathbed. It would have been nice to see the look on his face.
This funeral was everything Coral would have wanted when she buried her mother. The three families cried and were unafraid to show their tears. Loving words were spoken by all, reminiscing with their finest moments, or their happiest. The fathers spoke with pride and heartbreak, brothers laughing at some mischief they had gotten into.
The outreaching support for the family was both heartbreaking and wonderful to see. Coral hadn’t known these three people, but when it came time to light the pyres, she felt like she had known them all along.
Each family placed a trinket to their beloved, the thing that reminded them the most that brought them joy. A wooden toy sword. A fine golden necklace, and finally a hand painted picture of their family.
Coral almost felt herself come undone seeing the picture placed between the hands of a young woman. She wouldn’t cry. Her heart ached for the loss of these three families. It ached for her mother and what she had lost long ago. Coral did not judge them when they cried out as the pyre was lit, and the flames grew quickly.
The town stood in silent vigil as the three bodies burned, supporting those who had lost their dear ones. The sunset behind the billowing smoke was a burnished red, the last rays of light drifting slowly further away. Most funerals were held at sunset, and with the dying light their family and friends sent them on into the netherworld.
Long shadows danced in the firelight, and there was a stir of movement from behind the gathered people that caught the attention of more than a few. Nervous glances were thrown behind them to search the shadows while clutching their black crystals tight.
Coral watched on, ignoring the cold touches along the back of her neck and the breathy whispers of voices long gone, and instead slowly reached out for Pearl. Pearl weaved her fingers through Coral’s and squeezed, her glassy eyes more than understanding.
Funerals were hard for Coral. She didn’t shy away from them. The closure was important, the last goodbye gesture before returning the body to the earth. It was seeing the sorrow and pain that tore at Coral, and it was always a bittersweet moment to see it displayed so openly here.
Coral was glad Pearl said nothing. There were no words of comfort for either of them. Nothing, except the knowledge that Coral still had her sister. She squeezed Pearls hand back, quirking the corner of her mouth up.
Over the course of an hour, the fire’s burned hot enough that even from where Coral stood at the back of the crowd, she wasn’t cold. Slowly, people began to drift further out amongst the graves, talking in hushed voices. Crowcaller and Elwin stayed with Coral and Pearl, both standing straight and holding their arms behind their back. They followed as Coral decided to step away and stroll through the graveyard like the others.
Coral took her time reading the names carved into the stones, ignoring any flitter of movement she caught in the corner of her eyes. She clutched at her own black crystal, hoping it was enough to ward off any untoward attention from lingering spirits.
She hoped Crowcaller had only been joking when she had said that all cemeteries were haunted. One haunted mansion was enough for her.
Pearl stayed nearby, her head turning back towards the crowd still mostly gathered by the burning pyres. It wasn’t until Pearl kept looking back in one particular direction that Coral caught on what she was looking at. Caspian and the woman he arrived at the funeral with.
It seemed both of their hearts were a little battered this evening.
Well, this wouldn’t do. Coral was not going to let herself drift in melancholy this evening, nor would she allow Pearl to do so either.
“I bought you something,” Coral said, deciding that now was the right time to tell her sister rather than wait for the surprise.
Pearl looked back; her lips pulled into a small grimace. “What?”
“I bought you some snapdragons for the garden. Have you thought much about what design you would like to do?”
To many, buying flowers would seem like a small gesture. For Pearl, it was everything. They had discussed long and hard about how they would spend their money on restoring the manor. It had been decided that they needed to make their new home fit for living, which meant that Pearl’s dream of a lush, vivid garden was a long sought after dream.
The flowers, while still only a small gesture, would be enough to encourage Pearl to keep her dream alive, even if for now it was just a small flower patch. Coral wanted her sister to be as happy here in Direwood, just as much as she wanted to carve a new future for themselves.
“Oh. Thank you,” Pearl said, still a little distracted. She glanced back at Caspian, who was standing close to the woman at the front of the crowd.
“Pearl,” Coral said gently. She stepped over a fallen tombstone, careful not to tread on the plot, and stood in front of her sister to block off her view.
Pearl, as pretty as ever even with a crestfallen face, hunched her shoulders and shivered a little. It was much colder from this distance. Coral ought to consider buying themselves much thicker coats for the winter if it was this cold in autumn. She had some money to spare, and it would be worth the extra coin to see her sister wrapped up in a lovely coat.
Pearl focused her attention on Coral. She inhaled, then said, “I...I have given it some thought. I want to plant ornamental pear trees along the drive. That would look lovely in spring.”
“I’ve always liked the flowering Pear tree’s,” Coral encouraged.
“And I want a secret garden, with a pond with rainbow fish and lily pads. Garden beds filled with all sorts of colourful flowers that bloom all year round,” Pearl said, now more attentive to what she was saying.
“I approve. We’ll have to start the garden beds this winter in time for us to plant the trees. It may take some time for them to arrive here,” Coral said, rambling enough to engage her sister’s attention.
“I thought we couldn’t afford it?” Pearl said, sounding confused.
Coral shrugged. “I’ve given it some thought. We have our bedrooms, and once the Winter Salon is mould free, we would need to attract guests. We can start small, and when we can finally plant as many snapdragons, bluebells, lupin’s and peonies as you want, we would have at least some kind of garden for you to manage rather than the wild mess we have now.”
“Roses too,” Pearl said with a small smile. “The trailing ones so I can grow them over pathways. And I want to try growing some of the mage-flowers too, like Joy Buttons that make people want to laugh.”
Coral nodded, not bothering to mention that Joy Buttons were well known for inducing uncontrollable laughter for hours. If her sister wanted it, she could put up with the giggles for who knows how long.
“I thought I saw some books on plants somewhere,” Coral wasn’t sure, but there had been many books scattered throughout the mansion that there was a good chance some could have been based on plant topics. “I was hoping you could grow herbs as well. We would benefit greatly from a vegetable plot to rely on. It’s probably too late to plant vegetables now but come the following year it would be good to rely on our own grown food.”
“That’s a good idea,” Crowcaller said, walking up behind them. “The snow can get quite deep during winter, and traveling can be quite difficult. You would also do well with owning a horse being that far from town.”
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“A horse would be good, though the stables are in desperate need of repair before we could get one. We would need to keep the horse warm, and we have a hard enough time as it is keeping ourselves from freezing,” Coral said.
“I’d be happy to deliver whatever you need in winter, the snow won’t stop me,” Elwin added.
“Elwin, are you a courier or an apprentice?” Crowcaller asked, sounding genuinely curious. “You have a lot of study work you’ve yet to finish. Cecil has told me you’ve barely read the titles of your set books. Do I need to remind you that you’re expected to finish it by winter?
“No,” Elwin said sulkily. “I can run up to Lady Seaver’s manor and be back in no time. I just want to help.”
“A mark of a hero, then. A very stupid hero who won’t know his hob-goblins from Kobolds,” Crowcaller said.
Elwin looked thoroughly annoyed, mumbling under his breath that he did know the difference, but not loud enough to warrant further comment from Crowcaller.
“What is the difference between a hob-goblin and kobold?” Pearl asked timidly.
“Elwin,” Crowcaller said, looking expectantly at him.
“Kobolds are usually invisible but can materialise as a human-like child. You can tell something isn’t quite right with them, like their ears are too big or large eyes too far apart. They like to live around human settlements, in mines or on ships, and if insulted they will be a nuisance to the people that live there,” Elwin said quickly, looking directly at Crowcaller, as though he were determined to prove that he did know the differences.
Coral certainly didn’t. She thought they were one and the same.
“Hobgoblins are also child size, have long pointed ears, generally cranky and have destructive magic powerful enough that you don’t want to cross paths with them. Normally they’re neither good nor bad. Both Kobolds and Hobgoblins can help with domestic chores if you’re good to them, but usually end in disaster when you engage with either of them as they take insult to even well-meaning intentions.”
“Hobgoblins are ugly as a pile of troll droppings,” Crowcaller said, pointedly ignoring if Elwin was correct or not.
“I always thought they looked like tiny old men with long beards,” Pearl said, looking thoughtful.
“A lot do have beards, but that would be because a lot of them have atrocious hygiene. Some don’t clean themselves for months. The unclean ones reek. Kind of like sour piss,” Crowcaller said.
Coral grimaced, and Pearl looked shocked at hearing another woman say the word ‘piss’ so casually. Pearl had many more ladylike sensitivities to surpass when dealing with more down-to-earth people.
Coral just had to expose Pearl to more vulgar language. One day, Pearl might even swear. That would be a nice touch on besmirching her father. In his opinion, women were merely more than ornamental trinkets that could fetch some coin and pop out babies.
“I’m glad we don’t have any hobgoblins or Kobolds around the manor. It’s bad enough that it’s haunted,” Pearl said.
“Sshh,” Coral hushed, flapping her hand at her and looking about to see if anyone else was nearby that could have caught on to what Pearl had said. Funerals, despite the sorrow and grief, was always accompanied by gossip mongers. Coral didn’t want to be the one to spread the rumour of their haunted mansion about town.
She caught Caspian looking in their direction, and though Coral doubted he could see her expression this far out in the dark, she glared at him for good measure, as though he knew what they were talking about.
Her friendly opinion of Caspian had quickly shrivelled up. He had saved them, but that didn’t mean she had to like him now that he was parading another woman on his arm.
“Did you find anything useful from our archives about your manor?” Crowcaller asked.
There were still plenty of people scattered nearby, anyone of them within hearing distance. Not wanting to be overheard Coral began to walk, motioning for the others to follow, and headed towards the fence line of the graveyard where a long line of mausoleums stood, battered and worn as ever.
“I did, actually. It’s good to know the names of who lived there before, it makes the idea of a necromancer more human rather than a complete monster.”
“Necromancers are complete monsters. They go against the general law of nature itself, purposely choosing to do monstrous things to revive the dead and deal in death. You’ve for to be a special kind of fucked up to be a necromancer,” Crowcaller said. She reached out and plucked at a padlock hanging from a thick metal chain crisscrossing a door to one of the crypts.
“At least with an actual monster, you know what to expect. They want to eat, sleep, some live in perpetual anger. Some just want to do their own thing. They follow their natural state. With a person who chooses to do horrendous acts against humanity, they’re more dangerous. They have become a monster.”
There was a murmur behind them, loud enough that they all turned to look. No one stood nearby, and there was nothing but shadows and weather-worn stone. “The dead should stay dead,” Crowcaller said quietly.
“Not fond of ghosts then I take it?” Coral asked in a teasing tone, hoping to lighten the mood. The hair on the back of her neck was rising. She shuddered violently as a ripple of cold washed down her spine.
She shouldn’t poke fun. Coral herself nearly had her nose broken from dealing with ghosts, and she couldn’t have said that was an enjoyable experience.
Crowcaller shrugged one of her shoulders. “Can’t say I enjoy the shadow creepers, no. But working in Direwood is good for my purse, and something is always happening where I’m rendered useful. I’d much rather be here than the capital.”
The stone in Coral’s hand vibrated gently. She looked down at it in surprise. Coral had entered graveyards before, and each time the stone she had carried had never reacted. She had thought it more ceremonial than anything.
Pearl too held up her hand, her eyes fixated on her own quivering stone.
“Keep your eyes sharp,” Crowcaller warned.
Elwin rested a hand on the hilt of his sword, and he scanned the area. What he thought he could do with a sword against a ghost was laughable to Coral, but she couldn’t deny that even that act was in a way a form of comfort.
All she had was a shiny black rock. What was she supposed to do with that? Bludgeon the incorporeal spirit with it?
Maybe she’ll take it home and have a go at throwing it at the ghosts in her house. It couldn’t hurt. Hopefully. At the very least she could make a game out of it until she got rid of them.
It was dark enough that Coral could only just make out the faces of each person in the distant firelight. Otherwise, it was too dark to see naught but shapes.
“Why is it vibrating. It’s never done that before,” Pearl said, squeezing her fingers around the stone.
“Restless spirits,” Crowcaller said. “Best if you get back to the rest of the crowd, you’re less likely to get picked on if you’re with them.”
“I’d rather stay out with the ghosts,” Pearl mumbled, her eyes trailing back to where Caspian stood. “Who’s’ that woman Mister Acheron arrived with?” Pearl asked, the question bursting out of her as though she couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“Lady Collette Berryann. She’s lovely, but I wouldn’t get close with her if I were you. She’s favoured by Octavian Acheron. Well, until his new wife Lady Velika Acheron came along. You’re more likely to see Lady Collette in town than the Acheron’s, on account that she’s somehow remained human even after all the years she’s lived with them,” Elwin said.
“Oh, I see,” Pearl said, sounding bitter.
“She still lives with Mr Acheron despite his new wife. Is she a mistress then?” Coral asked, ensuring to keep her voice quiet. If she heard anyone gossiping about her like this, she’d want the ground to swallow her up. Or she’d box their ears. That was probably a more likely scenario.
Oh cursed oblivion, she was a hypocrite. She was gossiping about others.
“I think so,” Elwin said, quieting his own voice. “What else could she be other than a food supply.”
“Good company?” Crowcaller said.
“Surely one would run out of topics to discuss after being cooped up inside with the same people?” Pearl said.
Crowcaller grinned at Pearl. “You’re too innocent. I didn’t mean Collette Berryman was a conversationalist. Wine and dine would be a more likely situation, with Collette being both the meal and wine.”
“Oh,” Pearl said, as realisation dawned on her.
A creak of metal made Coral pause. It was the sound of a rusty hinge swinging open. All four of them glanced over at the third crypt down from them. Then, just like a nightmare made real, the door shuddered. Pearl squeaked in surprise, treading backwards until she ran into Elwin, who braced her before she tripped over her own feet.
The door thudded again, the thick chains rattling.
Crowcaller stepped out in front of Coral, her hand going to her hip, only to grasp at nothing. She had left her sword behind. Coral was thoroughly impressed with the creative flux of swear words that streamed out of Crowcaller’s mouth.
“Looks like I’m fighting with my knuckles tonight,” Crowcaller snarled, flexing her fingers.
“I thought the dead only rose at midwinter?” Pearl said, her voice high pitched with fright.
“They do. Until tonight I guess,” Elwin said, though he sounded more excited.
There was a moment of silence as the thing behind the crypt door fell still. Then in a quick burst, the door swung open, ripping the thick chain loose. Coral wanted to scream, but all she could manage was a breathless ‘Huh’ as the hulking figure of Silas stepped from the darkness, his silver eyes flashing as they caught the firelight.
He stared back at them, surprised to see them as much as they were of him.
“Silas,” Elwin groaned, sounding more than disappointed. He dropped his hand away from his sword. “I thought the dead had risen early.”
“What in the cursed shit are you doing here?” Crowcaller snapped.
“Following the tunnels,” Silas said gruffly. His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath. “The bloody ghoul has a network of them down there.”
Coral stepped forward, brushing past Silas to look down into the crypt that he had emerged. She didn’t like the idea that her manor was connected to the graveyard. Especially as all that stood between her home and a hoard of undead, was a stone door and a lock. Coral stared into the depths before her, imagining a swarming mass of limbs and groaning skeletons.
The tunnel was pitch black. How had Silas been able to see anything without a lantern?
“I’ll make sure the tunnel is blocked off,” Silas said.
“That’s not reassuring. The undead could break through a barricade. I want the whole thing filled to the brim with stone and whatever else before midwinter,” Coral insisted. She turned to look back at Silas and Crowcaller to implore them to agree, but whatever Coral was about to say died on her tongue.
In the distant firelight, what she had first thought was dirt, turned out to be large swathes of blood smeared across Silas’s face.
“Are you hurt?” Coral asked, alarmed.
“No,” Silas said. “Just filthy. I suppose it’s only fair you see me like this, since I first saw you dressed in gore.”
“Please don’t remind me,” Coral winced. There was a knot in her chest that eased now. A knot she hadn’t known was there until her body physically relaxed on seeing Silas returned. It came as a surprise to know that she had felt afraid for Silas, despite his bravado.
It would be a shame to have such a handsome man be ruined by a ghoul. A ghoul she set him after, no less. What eye candy could she enjoy then?
“Have you been playing down in those tunnels all day?” Crowcaller said, crossing her arms and frowning. “I expected you back hours ago. Haven’t you killed the beast yet?”
Silas actively bristled at this. He let out a low growl of frustration before saying, “I have killed it. Four times. The thing keeps resurrecting and running off before I can destroy it’s bloody body.”
He wrapped a warm hand about Coral’s shoulder and pulled her away from the crypt before slamming the door shut. He picked up the thick chain, and on seeing the broken links, he looped them through each other and squeezed the ends. When he dropped the chain, the links had closed off.
“Let’s get you and Pearl out of the open before it comes hunting you down.” Silas said. Without warning, he caught Coral by the wrist and pulled her along in his wake. He marched her through the tombstones and past curious onlookers. There was a rise in murmurs as Silas walked through the crowd and over the bridge. This time, it wasn’t the restless dead causing the stir. It was Silas’s display of manhandling.