I meant to have this chapter up yesterday, but instead I took a trip with my wonderful family. They just don't appreciate my unique humor…*sigh*

—

The hairs on the back of my neck raised straight up, and I stood terrified in the unknown blackness of MorganNight Manor (heavy on the night part). The scream sounded again.

Something cold grasped my arm, and I, scared witless, made an odd keening noise in the back of my throat. An almost scream of my own.

It was only Truth, her pale face seemingly floating in midair, disguised by her ebony hair. I instantly went toward her.

"What was that?" I whispered, her nails gently digging into the skin of my arm.

She didn't answer, instead peering behind us conspiratorially.

"Where's Arkiro?" She hissed.

"He's right behind-" I looked back to the bright doorway, our only source of light, to plainly see he was no longer there. My heart rate intensified immediately.

"I'm right here."

Truth and I both jumped violently to the sound of the deep, cold voice, whirling about dramatically.

There stood Lord Arkiro, immaculate and at home in the thick, stifling darkness, the shadows dancing on his features like a wavering candle. His eyes shined gently and his mouth hinted at a grin, but in this light I couldn't be sure.

"We need to go find out who that was." Truth sounded determined, her delicate jaw clenched like steel. She eyed Arkiro accusingly, as if daring him to say otherwise, or somehow…blaming him.

He nodded once, in agreement, and turned to stride down the echoing corridor. Truth followed him, leaving me in the only circle of light, staring after them into nothingness. I stayed there for a mere moment before dashing after the both of them, petrified of being left alone here. In this house.

I caught up quickly, and Truth cast me a weary, dark look over her shoulder.

"Welcome home," She said, sounding so bleak and so dreary I wanted to reach out and hug her. But I didn't; I didn't even know what she meant.

We were back in the huge room from earlier- I recognized the empty, creeping feel of it. Arkiro stopped short, and held up a hand. Truth and I froze and listened.

There. I heard it.

Somewhere close, I heard soft, pained little whimpers. Without thinking, I went toward them, stomping my fear down as far as it would go.

In the center of the room was an elaborate black stone tile shaped like a three-pronged spiral, illuminated by the hazy moonlight that streamed in from a skylight high above in a sweeping dome. On the tile, a huddled shaking figure laid, the moon reflecting from a pool of crimson that seeped out from around them. I kneeled by their hurting form, accidentally wetting my hands in it.

I rolled the figure over and grimaced: It was Mona, the housekeeper. Her dark eyes were glassy and unseeing. She was alive, but just barely. A weeping angry red line was drawn across her neck- a slit throat.

Behind me, someone cried out - Truth. She fell to her knees by Mona, gathering the woman to her quaking chest.

"Do something!" She wailed, "Do something, Arkiro please."

I sat there, staring at the blood on my hands and my knees. I'd never seen so much before.

"Do something," She begged again, her voice strained desperation. Arkiro was unmoving, still as a statue.

"Truth, you know the only thing I can do for her is lessen her pain. She's too far gone now."

Truth sobbed and buried her face into the woman's shoulder, the blood marring her white arms and hands and cheeks. It wasn't a pretty contrast.

I felt shocked, shaken, and my voice sounded like it. "Then do it." Arkiro looked at me oddly. "Lessen her pain," I said, stronger this time.

Stiffly, he leaned down, placing his hands on the dying woman's back. Around them the area was illuminated softly, and the veins in his hands throbbed black. A muscle in his jaw ticked, his shoulders tensed, and I realized with rapt fascination that he was absorbing her pain into himself.

Mona's whimpering ceased, and her sporadic shakes quit as well. A long sigh escaped her lips, and then she was gone. Truth held her more tightly, sobbing and trying to be quiet about it.

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I silently prayed to the Ancestors to welcome Mona. I knew Tamalia would collect her soul; I could draw some small comfort from that. I wiped my hand down a leg of my pants and then rested it on Truth's shoulder. She hiccupped, trying in vain to quench her tears, but she did lift her head.

"She did this," Truth said shakily, and for a bizarre moment I thought she was talking about me, but she had looked straight at Arkiro.

"The Manor did this; I know She did."

I was perplexed, sure that Truth was only confused in her grief, and expected Arkiro to tell her so. But he did not. He only looked grave.

"She's angry because I was happy. She hates me."

Arkiro scoffed, "If She is indeed angry, it's because of something far more serious than that," He rose quickly, pulling both me and Truth with him, "Go to your room Truth, and keep Clarity there with you. No one else needs to die tonight."

He began to walk away swiftly, but Truth reached out and grabbed his sleeve.

"Where are you going?" Her voice was high, her eyes wide.

"To ensure nothing is gravely wrong. I should be back by morning," He caressed her blood-stained cheek, smearing his hand with it, "Now off to bed with you. The both of you."

—

In a daze, I led Clarity to my room. She said things, but she might as well have been speaking another language. I didn't comprehend anything.

My head pounded and throbbed as if angry little men were inside beating it with hammers. My vision was blurry; I swiped at my eyes, but it was inside that was messed up. It always was.

I laid on my bed. The room was dark and it was cold, but I didn't want any warmth right now. Cold - numb - was good. Darkness crept in, and sleep overtook me.

But only for a minute.

Something warm and wet touched my face, and I lurched up, the words of a spell on my lips.

It was only Clarity, her face alarmed and her hand frozen in midair, holding a washcloth with pink stains on it.

"Sorry," I croaked, flopping back down on my favorite feather pillow.

"It's fine," She said, "Everything's fine."

I wondered if that was more for herself than it was for me, but hey- whatever worked, worked.

"You don't have to do that."

She shook her head, and smiled, a rueful expression.

"I'm used to this. Aspen, my brother, he is always getting himself into a fine mess. He's about your age, I think."

I yawned, lassitude creeping into every inch of my being.

"How old?" I murmured, words slurring a bit.

"Seventeen."

"That's my age."

And that's the last I contributed to that conversation before her gentle wiping lulled me to sleep.

—

The wind tore at my hair like an angry beast, and I threw my head back into it, laughing. Yank all you like, wind. I dug my heels into the horse's flanks, urging the animal faster faster faster.

"Come on, Sojo, let's show this scoundrel how it's done." The horse lunged forward, thrilled at the speed. I wove my hands into the wind-licked gray mane, riding low on Sojo's neck. No saddle for this girl.

I heard the boy laugh, a loud boisterous sound. "Nice try, real nice try." He kicked his horse, using the long leather reins as a whip of sorts. He barreled up along side Sojo and I, grinning wickedly. Neck and neck, our animals ran side by side.

"Where'd you find that hag?" I jested.

The boy's eyes widened in mock offense. "Hag? I'll have you know this is Devil, a genuine warhorse."

I laughed, speeding up again, "Sure he is. And I'm the Gem Queen."

He followed suit, but still lagging behind some, "Then my sincerest apologies, dear majesty. I thought you'd be fatter."

I snorted, amused by his teasing.

"And more well-mannered too." He whistled shrilly, and his warhorse thundered ahead, flinging up dirt as he went. I shielded my eyes and the boy and his horse reached the large rock face up ahead, the decided check point for our little race.

I brought Sojo to a swift trot and stopped him completely once I reached my grinning companion.

"Don't feel too bad girly, now you can tell all your friends you almost beat a warhorse in a race. Bareback at that. Color me impressed," He held out a rough, calloused hand to me, "Casimir SeaGlass."

I took his hand, shaking it firmly, "Zinnia Petrovja."

"A lovely name for a lovely girl." He winked and I rolled my eyes, pulling my captive hand from his grasp before he could kiss it.

"Not a princess buddy. No hand kissing."

He laughed his full, loud laugh.

"Of course not. You're the Gem Queen, remember? Queens deserve more than that."

"And strange men who kiss queens deserve death sentences."

He quirked a scarred brow, "She's mean too, figure that."

I chuckled, signaling Sojo to turn about with my legs.

"And where are you headed, majesty?"

"Don't call me that, and if you must know I'm heading to MorganNight Manor."

He clicked his tongue and his horse began walking alongside mine. "Well, this must be fate. That happens to be my intended destination as well."

I looked him over. Muscular, wiry build. Rough, working man's hands. Scarred face, wild silver eyes, dark military-cut hair. He was no noble man. But then again, look at me.

"Really?" I questioned, skeptical.

"You doubt my honest integrity? You wound me, woman." He held a dramatic hand over his heart.

"Yes because your persona just screams honesty. But hey, if this Boarding School thing doesn't work out for you, go into acting."

"And if it does not work out for you, dear Zinnia, go into horseracing. Or some profession which allows young ladies to mortally wound others with their words."

"Aw, poor Cas. Did I hurt your ego?"

"A bit, majesty, but never fear. I am resilient."

"Did anyone ever tell you you're-"

He grinned from ear to ear, interrupting, "Dashing, irresistible, handsome, perfection?"

"A shit."

Casimir raised a studious finger to his chin, pretending to think very hard, "Come to think of it, I may have heard that a few times."

"A few? I'm surprised that's not what your parents named you."

"Now now, Queen Zinnia. That wasn't very nice."

"I never thought about that. I apologize."

"You know, sarcasm isn't a good look on you."

"You know, talking isn't a good look on you."

His grin broadened, revealing a set of perfectly straight, white teeth. "I have a feeling we're going to be friends."

"I have a feeling your feelings are often wrong."

"Rarely, majesty, rarely."

It was a long ride to the Manor. Morning crept up on the horizon, but she was a cold one. It didn't affect me much, but Casimir's cheeks were wind-bitten and pink. I did notice, thank the Ancestors, that it quieted him a bit.

"You know what, this place is for me. I rather like it. Yes, definitely. It's final- I'm getting a manor of my own one day."

But only a bit.

We stared up at the gates- huge ugly things that screamed fairytale cliché. The place even had towers for princesses to be locked up in, melodramatically awaiting for their princes to rescue them. Unluckily for them, there was only Casimir. He was no prince.

The gates opened on their own accord, and our horses danced around uncomfortably.

"Easy, Sojo," I whispered, stroking the beast's warm neck.

Casimir clicked and Devil began walking into the gray courtyard. There was no color; everything, and I do mean everything, was either gray, black, or white. I grew up in the frigid, snow heaped mountains, and they had more life than this place. The only living thing was the gray grass and the white, monstrously sized roses scaling the towers.

In the center of the courtyard was a fountain carved to look like Tamalia, judging by the colossal clock he held. Even he, meant to be a symbol of divinity, looked out of place here. We reached the door, and dismounted. I wondered what we were supposed to do with our horses.

"Isn't there supposed to be a butler or something?" Casimir questioned.

"Let's see." I said, banging on the door. We waited and … nothing. I banged again, harder this time. And still no one.

"Let's just go in." Cas said.

"And take our horses with us?"

There was a sudden noise on the other side of the door, like someone undoing a seriously heavy duty bolt lock.

Me and Cas looked at each other.

The door was opened slowly, but just enough to peek through.

"Who is it?" A girl's voice called.

"Casimir SeaGlass and Zinnia Petrovja, students. Who are you?" Demanded Cas.

More locks were undone; I counted at least three plus the other big one. Who the hell were these people expecting?

The girl pulled the door open wider, revealing that there were in fact two girls standing there. The one who opened the door had bed-wrecked black hair, palest of pale skin, and dark circles under her eyes. The other girl was noticeably shorter, had long dirty blond hair, and weary looking brown eyes. They both wore expressions that could be called shell-shocked.

Casimir strode in, whistling. "MorganNight must be loaded- just look at this place."

I did.

It was too grand, too big, too much for the eyes to take in. I had the faintest impression its splendor was to distract from something else. It did a fair job; I couldn't put my finger on it.

We were in a massive foyer. It's ceiling was huge and domed in the center, a skylight shaped like a cross nestled in the dome. The floor was tiled in a pattern: black, white, black, white. Each tile was shaped like something different, yet they all fit together perfectly. Its complexity gave me a headache.

"Who are you?" I asked the girls, repeating Cas's earlier question.

The blond haired girl spoke first, "I'm Clarity HavenGlade." She had bloodstains on her pants; I looked at her suspiciously.

The black haired girl had blood on her clothes too. "I'm Truth."

I shook my head slowly, "Uh huh…"

Casmir walked about with a stupid grin on his face, touching every little thing he came to. He turned and looked at the girls; his grin went away.

"If it's not too terribly personal, may I inquire as to why you two are smeared in blood?"

They glanced down at the stains, as if seeing them for the first time.

"My housekeeper was killed last night." Truth said bluntly.

Casmir chuckled nervously.

"Who did it?" I asked, morbidly curious. I wanted to know if I was going to be living with a murderer.

"A ghost." Answered Truth, causing the blond haired- Clarity to gasp.

Casimir clapped his hands together, "Well, that explains absolutely everything."

Truth looked puzzled, glancing around at all our unbelieving faces, "You've all seen ghosts before, right?"

"Well no," Said Clarity, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

I laughed, "You mean to tell me this manor is haunted? That's rich."

"And hopefully not the truth," Quipped Casimir, looking pale.

"Don't worry," Said Truth, "She's not vicious most of the time. Arkiro seemed to think something upset her last night."

I wasn't sure if she was kidding or not.

Cas stepped close to me, stage whispering. "She can't be serious."

"Well, her name is Truth, so."

"How did you get here?" Truth asked.

"We rode." I said, "And we need a place to put our horses."

A light seemed to click on in Truth's eyes. "You rode? Not in a carriage?":

I wrinkled my nose. "Not really a carriage kind of girl."

Truth quirked her mouth, mischievous-like. "I can show you to the stables, if you like."

"That'd be great, thanks."

We followed Truth out the door and into the colorless courtyard. She was surprisingly swift, the girl, and slipped around the corner of the manor with a little skip in her step. Clarity fell into step beside me.

"So, where are you from?" She asked pleasantly.

I eyed her, seeing if she was genuine or not.

"The mountains. I live in a village there."

"It must be cold," She remarked.

"It is," I agreed.

There was an awkward silence until something cold and wet splattered across both our backs. Clarity shrieked in surprise. I, on the other hand, whirled about fuming.

Casimir stood there, grinning insolently. He faked an innocent expression, "Something wrong, ladies?"

I bent and scooped up a handful of last night's snow. I used my magic to freeze it more solidly, patting it between my hands. Then, with all the force I could muster, I hurled it at Casimir. It hit his face satisfyingly, and he made a noise of surprise or pain or both.

I bellowed out laughter, and he shook his head like a wet dog. He smirked and I instantly dove to the ground for more snow. This was war.

We commenced to pelting each other with snowballs until there was barely any snow left unused; then we made more. Clarity had joined in, unable to resist such childish fun.

An especially large snowball smacked my face, and I spat the magic-tasting stuff out. It was Truth. She laughed manically as I shot it back at her, diving behind a gray-bark tree. The horses ran for cover as our snow fight intensified. We all looked like we'd been caught in a mountain blizzard. My brother would be proud.

At the same time, we all attempted to conjure more snow, but instead of the small pile I had imagined there was an icy artic burst that sent us flying in all directions. I groaned, having collided with Clarity. Snow fell from the sky in large, fat flakes. We'd managed to manipulate the weather. We stared, star-struck.

"What in the name of the Ancestors do you think you are doing." A tall man materialized, snowflakes landing in his dark hair and on his dark clothing. He looked pissed, eyes ablaze- quite literally.

It was Lord Arkiro, it could be no one else.