In this chapter, we explore exactly HOW creepy this house is. And Bethany gets a chance to narrate again!
2222222222
This Old House
2222222222
Somewhere behind her, Bethany could tell that her friends were nervous. Personally, she couldn't see why. She didn't feel anything threatening about the wide open, gorgeous house that was about to become her new home. Especially not with the plump, middle aged man waiting to greet them in the enormous receiving hall. As soon as they had walked in, the man's face lit up, and he spread his arms to them in welcome.
"Young master Palom, I presume," he greeted jovially. "I have been expecting you. However, I believe you are 15 minutes late."
Beside her, Palom simply shrugged. "It was a nice day, and I swear I will never get tired of that walk. We took our time."
"A man of taste, I see. You will be quite at home here, then."
"Oh, I already am."
"Smashing! There is only one formality left for us, then. If you please, follow me into the library; the documents are all in order, waiting to be signed. A few strokes of the pen, and the house is officially yours."
Bethany hadn't met the mayor, any more than Palom had; but already, she liked him very much. As his voiced echoed grandly in the foyer, Porom and Ivri hurried to catch up with them, excited, in spite of themselves, by the man's proclamation. They all wanted to be there together, when the documents were finally signed.
"Oh, I should introduce the rest of us," Palom said suddenly, sounding grown up and official, indeed, and tugged his sister to his side. "Mr. Mayor, this is my twin, Porom. This guy is Ivri, and this is Bethany, our good friends. We could never go on another adventure without them."
"A fine looking party, to be sure. It is a large pleasure to meet you all, at last. I've heard nothing but good things from Master Theodore. I am Clyde Boorne, mayor of this fine little village. And before I allow you to sign anything, I must be sure that if any of you require anything—anything at all—you will come straight to me without delay. You will promise me, won't you?"
"Of course, sir," Palom answered for them all. "That's very kind of you."
"It is no trouble to me in the slightest. Now then, the documents. Follow me, children."
Bethany took her beloved's offered arm, and let him escort her forward with a thrill of excitement. She was still trying to take in the sheer size of the foyer, trying to wrap her head around there being more house to explore, and a room of her very own to pick out.
"Sir," Porom said as they walked, "about the creatures in the attic...?"
"Ah, yes, quite taken care of, Miss Porom," the mayor answered right away as they entered the library. "The exterminators just finished up yesterday, and in the end, extracted a raccoon, a nest of squirrels, and an impressive number of bats. It is no small wonder you felt watched when you were here before; I would have been unnerved, myself. A contractor will be along this week to seal up their entrance holes in the roof, but that should take only a day or two, and they will soon be out of your way."
Porom looked slightly relieved, but she didn't completely relax, either.
Now Bethany had to take in the unique grandeur of the library. The ceiling was vaulted, like all the others, and the walls were all floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, crammed with books she couldn't wait to start pouring through. One wall boasted an impressive fireplace, the wall above it bare, and the mantle covered in a thin layer of dust. There was a single, comfortable sitting chair in one corner, and a low table in the center of them floor. It was the most sparsely furnished library she had ever seen, and she couldn't wait to furnish it with things of her own choosing. As if it really were her very own home.
The low table had a number of items arranged on it: a stack of papers, an inkwell with a quill beside it, a bottle of wine, and five crystal glasses.
"Master Palom, step right this way, and I shall walk you through these documents. There aren't many of them, but it is important that you understand what they say. Never fear, I shall explain everything."
Bethany could tell that Palom was trying hard to be professional and serious about this. It was a very serious moment, and he was far from six years old anymore. All the same, she knew he was ready to jump out of his skin. Keeping himself together, he came forward and bent over the papers on the table, as the mayor walked him through the legalese of the topmost five pages.
"This is all in reference to master Theodore, the original heir, stating his right to gift the house to a second party—being yourself. This whole section is in reference to the second party, entitling you to the estate, including but not limited to the building, the gardens, and any income generated within the property; in short, whatever goes on in or around this house is your own business, and there is no requirement to share the details with anyone else."
"Cool."
"This following section is a catalog of the contents of the estate, followed by yet another clause entitling you to do whatever you will with those items. Lastly, these few pages are a copy of the village charter, stating our local laws and trading regulations, which I would advise you to review at your own leisure. Finally, there is the paper I know you are most interested in. Take up the pen, and sign your name here, on the line."
As Palom picked up the quill and dipped it in the ink, his companions crowded behind him to watch the moment of truth over his shoulder. There were three lines to be signed, and two of them had already been filled in: Theo's neat, somewhat strict signature, and the mayor's own, in a much more easygoing hand.
Palom hesitated for the barest moment, and Bethany immediately knew why. Of course, the mayor had signed his full name; and even Theo had dared to sign with his majestic full name—Theodore Harvey—even though they all knew the shame he still felt. So, it was only natural that Palom wasn't sure what to do. He had no idea what his surname was, no idea how he should sign the very official document. And it brought him pain.
The moment passed in an instant, and he settled for his title—Black Mage Palom, Warrior of Light—of which he was very proud. It was a title, not a name, but it was more than enough. It took up all the allotted space. And as the mayor reviewed it, he made no objection.
"Very well," he said approvingly. "Everything appears to be in order, here. Welcome to your new home, my friends! Shall we toast to this momentous occasion?"
He picked up the bottle, already open, poured small, measured amounts into each glass. As they were filled, Palom did the honors of passing them around, grinning uncontrollably.
"Look at me, guys, I'm a homeowner now! Can you believe it?"
"Hardly," Porom answered with a smirk, doing her best to stop looking tense and just enjoy the moment.
"I believe the four of you will appreciate this selection," the mayor commented. "The last of the estate's reserve, found while cataloging, and served in some of the last crystal we haven't been forced to sell. You will find it all in the enclosed inventory I pointed out, though I doubt it concerns you in this rather big moment."
"Very gracious of you, mayor Boorne," Bethany answered. "Thank you."
"Shall we, then?" Palom said proudly, raising his glass. "To our new home! May we spend our lives here in peace."
"To the village," Bethany added, "as much our home as this house."
"To our good friends, the Harvey's," Porom chimed in, "without whom, we would have nothing."
"To adventures," Ivri added, speaking for the first time, "and our first one together."
"And to brave young people," the mayor concluded, "making their own way in the world. May the four of you prosper and flourish in the place."
"Cheers," they agreed as one, clinking their glasses together and drinking their toast.
"Delicious," Ivri exclaimed. "I'm not one to drink, but I could get used to this."
"And who knew what a difference good crystal could make," Bethany added. "Oh, I love the way it sounds when it clinks like that! Oh, Palom, promise me we'll get more someday."
"Whatever you want, sweetums," he agreed. "After all, we have a mansion to fill with stuff."
Porom rolled her eyes at them. "Just look at the two of you. Not two minutes, and already, you're as spoiled as my brother."
"Way to rain on the parade, sis," Palom groaned. "Can't you just be excited, like the rest of us? Here, drink some more. You'll feel better."
The mayor laughed briefly over their antics, then gathered up the papers in a practiced gesture. "It seems the four of you charming youngsters have much to do, in light of recent events. This done, I shall return to my office in the village to put these valuable documents in their proper places, and leave you to settle yourselves."
Before taking his leave, he dug in his pocket and produced a ring of keys, which he handed to Palom.
"These have been color coded, for your ease. Green goes to the first floor, blue to the second, red to the cellar and attic, and yellow to the sheds and gates. We have carefully matched the keys to all locked doors we have found; though, in an old house like this, one never knows what surprises and secrets past residents may have left for us. If you come across any problems, alert me at once, and we shall resolve it."
With a final bow, the mayor turned to leave. Porom went to see him out, and Palom, deciding that it was now his duty as host, went with them as well.
For the first time in a few days, Bethany and Ivri were alone to discuss everything as friends, with no bickering lovers between them.
"This is all happening so fast," she commented, sipping her drink. "It's all just so exciting, Ivri! This house is ours now! Can you believe it?"
"Not quite," Ivri answered slowly, nervously fixing his glasses.
"You've sure got a case of the willies. I know you said it was nothing, but... Did you see something?"
"Maybe. I know I certainly feel something. Bethany, come on, you can't tell me you don't feel that."
She paused, stretched out with her white mage senses (which were sadly subpar, she had to admit), and finally shrugged. "I've got nothing. Sorry. But, if the rest of you can feel it, I'll just trust that it's there. What do you think it is?"
"I couldn't tell you. Perhaps it's better that way. All I know is that no squirrel watches you like this."
"It's not... Evil, is it?"
"No, it's... I don't know... Neutral. It knows we're here, and it's not entirely comfortable with us being here, but it doesn't feel like its bothered one way or the other. Perhaps it's some kind of residual haunting—an impression of something powerful that happened here once, imprinted forever in the walls. I hope this is the case. A residual haunting just repeats itself over and over, but it can't physically do anything, because the spirit isn't actually attached to it anymore."
"You know a lot about ghosts."
"Spirits, Bethany, spirits. I am a white mage, after all. It's my job to know how these things work."
She was silent for a moment, thinking about this. It made sense, she supposed, but it was annoying that her own white training wasn't enough to feel this presence for herself. Perhaps Porom would help her practice, now that they had all this free space and time to themselves. The thought made her smile. It would be so nice to do sisterly things together again, like they used to do on at least a weekly basis.
Almost as soon as she had thought of this, the twins reappeared. Porom looked like she wanted to speak frankly, now that the mayor was gone; but Palom ran right over her, as he often did.
"Alright," he said cheerfully, rubbing his hands. "Let's head upstairs and start putting our stuff away. He said the bedrooms are still completely intact, not even touched, so we should have everything we need."
"30 years is a long time for a bedroom to go untouched," Porom pointed out right away. "I had thought they might have been scavenged by now, like everything else. And I have no desire to sleep in 30 year old bed sheets."
"Good thing Rosa made us take spare linens with us," Bethany said brightly. "I had thought it seemed silly, at the time. Now that you mention it, I'm glad she made us do it."
The two white mages Floated all their trunks up the wide staircase, leaving them to thump tactlessly on the landing. Suddenly, Ivri and Porom looked drained from a task they had maintained effortlessly all day.
"It's like that one spell took everything out of me," Ivri complained, lifting his glasses to rub his eyes, looking ready for a nap.
"Me, too," Porom added, also exhausted. "It's this thing, living in the walls. I know it."
"So much for raccoons crawling in the attic, huh, sis?" Palom teased, too excited to be overly concerned. "Come on, let's pick you guys some beds. We'll fix them up with the sheets we brought, and you can lie down. I have to say... You've both looked better.
"I don't understand," he said quietly, as he tried the first door. "I used plenty of magic last time we were here, and felt totally fine. So... It can't be our pet ghost. It's got to be something else, right?"
He swung the door open to a child's room, untouched as they had been promised, a faded, moth-eaten pile of laundry still in a heap in the middle of the floor.
"Oh, hey, this must have been Theo's room," he commented, fascinated, as he walked over to inspect the bed. Bethany followed close behind, also curious, as the other trailed cautiously, reverently behind. The bed was certainly built for a child; it was a generous width, but a little too small for any of them. All the same, Palom nodded his head decidedly.
"Porom, if you really need it, you can kind of curl up on this one. It's fine, for a nap."
"No, no, I'll be fine," she insisted, even though her eyelids were drooping. She and Ivri both looked more and more tired by the second.
"Alright, we'll try the other rooms. Come on, you guys, we've got to find a bed these two can sleep in. I'm getting kind of worried about you two."
They left and shut the door behind them. The next room had only one large bed inside, and Palom didn't bother asking if either of them wanted it. Clearly, this room and its bed had belonged to KluYa and Cecilia. Even more awkward the fact that Cecilia had died in this particular bed, just after birthing her second child.
For all its beauty and apparent comfort, Bethany wondered if any of them would dare sleep in this bed. She wondered how long they could bear to keep it.
Finally, they came to the last room along that wall, which contained two separate beds that held no significance to any of them. While Porom and Ivri slumped together against the doorframe, Palom and Bethany found and unpacked their own bed sheets, stripping the beds of their time-worn, moldy smelling linens and replacing them. Then they pushed their friends into the beds and left them to rest. The two mages were asleep almost as once.
"This is nothing short of unusual," Bethany said, opening a window to let fresh air into the room. After being shut up for long, the air was musty and difficult to breath. "I've never seen them like this before."
"Maybe it's something in the air up here," Palom suggested, kicking at the pile of discarded bed sheets with distaste. "All these bedrooms smell like mildew. We should open the other windows, too. And... There's still the matter of sleeping arrangements. As far as I'm concerned, there's only one bed left. I'm not sleeping in the big one, no matter how many new sheets we put on it."
Bethany tried and failed to suppress a shudder. "Not if you paid me."
Leaving their friends to sleep, the two wandered back onto the landing and looked it up and down. There were still three rooms they hadn't looked in—one in the dead end wall beside them, and another two on the other end of the landing. Bethany guessed that these might be other guest rooms, or perhaps were help had once slept.
She hoped so...
Palom started for the door nearest them. Like all the others, it had been left unlocked for them, and opened to reveal a small study. A high-backed chair and a desk were arranged by the room's one window, and tall chalkboards lined the walls. The space was meticulously tidy and highly functional, though dusty and smelly like the other rooms. Obviously, the personal space of a full-blooded Lunarian, yet somehow very human at the same time.
Finding nothing of immediate use, they left the study behind and went to check the other rooms. At last, they were relieved to find more beds they could use. Each room conatined two twin beds, end tables, and a wardrobe. Satisfied, Palom dragged his belongings into one room, and Bethany took the room beside it.
She opened both her windows, and then began unpacking her trunk, looking for her own bundle of sheets. As she did so, she chuckled to herself. It was a grand feeling, to say that such finery was her very own, and the thought that she could do whatever she wanted with this space was exhilarating. Already, she was planning in her mind how she would remodel her new room. She would replace the sheets on both beds, first and foremost, and find matching drapes while she was at it—perhaps in fabrics of purple and blue, to match the paint, which she was already fond of. She would find rugs, and lamps, and a bookcase to fill with her things. It would be exquisite, when she was done.
Glanckng at the other bed, she figured that she and Porom would perhaps share this room for the foreseeable future. She would have to make sure the picture she had in her head was okay with her, then. But that just made it even more exciting. Finally, they would really be sisters.
Having no biological sisters of her own, only a passel of older brothers who were mostly mean to her, it had been her lifelong wish. Finally, it was coming true the way she had always hoped it would.
In the middle of fixing her bed, she stopped, aware of a very solid presence behind her, and laughed shortly.
"As if you could ever sneak up on me, dear."
"I wasn't trying to. I know better."
She dropped the pillowcase she had been working on, and turned to face Palom with her hands on her hips. She tilted her head, amused by the content but vacant look on his face.
"What are you looking at?" she teased.
"I was just thinking. You're so pretty."
Bethany sighed, touched, and relaxed from her teasing stance. He wasn't teasing at all; he wasn't even being casual. His words had been genuine and sweet, and loving. He wasn't usually like this; it wasn't in his nature. But it wasn't outside his nature, either. She went and embraced him, resting her head on his shoulder.
"Home," she sighed. "This is our home."
"It's a good home," he agreed, holding her close. "I've never felt so at home anywhere else in my life."
After all they had weathered recently, Bethany was just happy to see him at peace once again. It had been a long time since he had been so at ease. Whatever had terrified their friends so badly, neither of them could see nor feel it. Whatever Ivri and Porom decided to do next, she knew that she, at least, was here to stay. Because Palom was here to stay. Nothing anyone had to say—not even his own sister—was going to change his mind now.
After a lovely, tender moment, Palom withdrew slightly and thoughtfully brushed her hair out of her face.
"Well... I was going to wait for them... But I'm too excited. There's some stuff we need to talk about. About the house."
"Ah. I think I know what you mean. Yeah, let's talk."
Looking relieved that they were on the same page, he took her hand and led her back downstairs, to the library. As if to prove his previous point, he spoke the fireplace to life without any kind of strain or fatigue. Without letting her argue, he escorted her into the room's only chair, and then sat cross-legged on the floor in front of her. He sighed heavily, resting his chin in his fists.
"So, a startling revelation came to me," he announced. "We have a mansion, and that is the coolest thing ever. But that doesn't mean we have a lot of money. There's a lot of work to do around here... And not a lot of cash to do it all."
Bethany sat back a bit and let his revelation sink in. In all her grand plans and scheming, she had forgotten how ill funded they were. They only had a few hundred gil between the four of them—another present that Rosa had practically forced them to take on their journey, even though it had seemed silly, which they could all be grateful for now. All at once, it dawned on Bethany how hastily and poorly they had planned this.
"Whoa... It's a good thing we have older, wiser friends to help us out," she mused, feeling humbled.
"I know," Palom agreed with a rueful smirk, knowing full well what she meant. "I think I know some things we can get off our hands quickly, to make a little more money. The little bed, I say we hold onto; we're going to need it for someone's kids, eventually. But the big one... I think we should probably sell it. None of us are going to use it, and I seriously doubt that Cecil or Theo will want it. And it is mine now, so I can do whatever I want with it. So, I say we sell it. If we ship it to the city, we could make a lot of money."
"You don't think Cecilia's brothers or sisters would want it?"
"Come on, Bethany, you know they don't count."
"True, true. I agree with you, though."
"And it isn't like we planned to sit up here all alone, expecting the villagers to take care of us. They would if we asked, but we all know that isn't right. The four of us have a great chance to do some real good for this village, just like KluYa and Cecilia did. We can more than provide for ourselves. And for our neighbors, too."
"You've thought a lot about this, in the last 15 minutes," Bethany pointed out slowly.
Palom shrugged. "Time to be responsible, I guess. This is my house, and my home, and I should take care of it. It's so cool suddenly be in charge of stuff; but I just realized, it's also going to be a lot of work."
Bethany bent to reach for his hands, holding them tight in her own. "That's why you have the rest of us, dearest. That's why you have me. I'll be your wife, someday. What better practice? I'm so excited we get to do this together."
He gave her a relieved smile. "So am I. Thanks, Bethany."
They sat in contemplative silence for a few minutes, reveling in everything they had discussed. A road of hardship lay before all four of them, it was true; but if they all worked together, they would surely make the best of it, and even have a lot of fun while doing it. There was so much to do. So much that had to be done, now that they were here. But she couldn't wait to get started.
Suddenly, Palom got that familiar glint in his eyes, and he jumped to his feet, pulling Bethany up with him.
"Hey, why don't I give you the grand tour? There's so much house to see; you've seen so little of it, and you're going to love every inch of it, I just know it! Come on, you've got to see the size of the kitchen."
Bethany laughed as he dragged her along. "What's a terrible cook like me going to do with a big old kitchen?"
"Aw, don't worry about that—you know that's Porom's job."
2222222222
September faded into October, and the weather went on growing steadily cooler. Back in the city, Theo had been true to his word and bought a modest house near a blacksmith's forge, where he had quickly found work. The old blacksmith had laughed at first, when a violet-eyed man in his 40's appeared out of the blue, asking for an apprenticeship. However, having no apprentices to teach, and no one to take care of him, he hadn't refused.
"Never too late to teach an old dog new tricks, I suppose," the weathered old man had said jovially.
"Indeed," Theo had agreed, deciding that his new teacher's enthusiasm was charming.
"Never too late to reinvent yourself, either," the man had continued, shaking his cane slightly. "Perhaps when you're man enough to take this operation over, I'll run off and make myself a pirate!"
Kerry the blacksmith had been a good teacher so far—he was a patient, gentle, cheerful sort, as the common folk of Baron tended to be. And the idea that he still had time to take up his childhood fantasies of piracy seemed to put a new spring in his step, despite his cane, and his frequent complaints of having tired, weary old bones. Theo was glad to say, for the first time since his boyhood, he was enjoying his life.
He had taken to the trade with astonishing grace, and found that he was exceptionally good at it. And having a few black spells at his disposal certainly helped speed his progress on. Within weeks, he had graduated from forging buckets full of nails and links of chain, and was moving onto door handles and plow blades. Kerry was proud and impressed. Normally, he claimed, it took a youth several months of diligence and hard work to advance so.
"I'll be off to begin my life of piracy in no time!" he proclaimed. "And when that day comes, you can have the whole forge all to yourself. Won't that be a thing? Seeing as my wife and son are no longer with us, I have no one better to leave the place to. Ah, but you'll take care of things swimmingly, in my absence."
Kerry didn't speak much of his deceased family. From what Theo had slowly gathered, his son had fallen to his death fixing a roof before he had even been married; his wife had passed away peacefully in her sleep a few years ago. He hadn't had the gumption to take on a new apprentice since her passing. He had taken Theo on, because he claimed there was something about the younger man that he had immediately liked, but he hadn't said what it was. Perhaps Theo reminded him of his own son...
It was a sad thing. Kerry had lost so much in his life, and Theo hated to see his teacher so alone in the world. He consoled himself with the knowledge that, at least, he hadn't caused these deaths. That would have been awkward, and unbearable.
Theo's new life was also brightened frequently by visits from his brother and sister, and his nephew. In his spare time, he was attempting to teach Rhys the art of black magic—which, given his parentage, was not his strong suit. Also, the child was bouncy and unruly as any six year old could be expected to be. Rosa was often exhausted by her son's antics. Theo found that he had an energy that matched his nephew's well.
Also, he received a letter from the twins every week, detailing their mundane adventures around the house. Porom seemed to be writing them; the handwriting and the practical voice both seemed like hers, and he doubted that any of her companions would have thought to do such a thing. In her first letter, she had asked permission to sell some things, including his parent's double bed, and he hadn't refused. He certainly didn't want the thing. In later letters, she explained that they were looking for meaningful work in the village to fund their eventual projects, and that Bethany had already marketed herself well as a magic tutor.
Porom also described how she planned to plant new flowers in the garden, when spring came again, and that she hoped to one day install another fountain in her favorite corner of the enclosure. Together, Ivri and Palom had finished filling the hole in the brick wall. Bethany was planning on redecorating some of the rooms, without disturbing the original paint or any of the wallpaper—she was apparently charmed by it, but felt that other things could still be updated.
Porom had commented that Bethany's redecorating plans were impractical. The house was perfectly functional as it was, and the idea was apparently baffling to her.
This continued attitude was growing more and more troubling to Theo. What was more, it seemed to be growing worse. What could be causing this? He wondered this more and more. He began to wonder if he should take a few day's vacation to visit them, and see for himself.
But he was doing too well at his new trade to up and leave suddenly. And he worried about leaving Kerry alone for long. The man might up and leave, himself, if he got much more excited. So, while he was inwardly concerned, he resolved to let the rest of fall and all of winter run its course, and go in the spring to see how his young friends were faring. There wasn't much else he could do on his own.
2222222222
Much to his friend's chagrin, Palom had opened their house to the village for the first time. The local harvest was almost in, and he suddenly felt like it warranted an old fashioned party.
"If there's one thing I like more than Baron in the spring, it's Baron in the fall," he had said decidedly. "All the best stuff is coming in, now! It would be unpatriotic not to have a party."
He had gone on to suggest this to the mayor without much more input from his friends, and now they expected to have at least 200 people in their house the following week. Even Bethany was irked by the suddenness of the decision. She wasn't sure if they had the resources to host so many people. They certainly didn't have the cash for it.
"That's the beauty of it," Palom explained when she pointed this out. "None of these people have the cash for it, either. We'll all have to come together and put all our stuff together to make it happen. What better way to be a part of our community? I'm sure that KluYa and Cecilia would have done the same. We should honor that."
Bethany still wasn't happy with him, but she chose not to argue. It wasn't like she could change his mind about it now; and the village was already buzzing with excitement. It was all her handful of students could talk about recently. Resigning herself to whatever was going to happen, she set about preparing as best she could.
It also peeved her that the task of managing the estate had fallen mostly into her hands. She had expected Porom to take charge of things, as she often did. She was normally a great domestic type, and good at managing things. She had started off caring perhaps a little too much about how their house was run—there had been a strict budget and a long list of house rules she insisted that they all stick to. But their lives ran smoothly because of it, and they hadn't complained about it. Her management had given them the direction and order they had all needed in those first several weeks.
Lately, Porom had gone on to suddenly care less and less about her own rules and procedures, hardly noticing anymore when they were broken. When they realized that she had stopped keeping their accounts, Bethany had jumped in to take the reins. Not that a lot of damage control had been needed, but that task had suddenly become her own. She also found herself doing a lot of the cleaning and even cooking that Porom used to insist was her job to take care of.
Porom's sudden loss of interest had them all concerned. If they wanted to find her anywhere these days, it was in the library or study, pouring through books with an appetite they had never seen in her before. In fact, she had developed a habit of snapping at them if they interrupted her studies—even to bring her food, because she was also skipping meals.
"How can you think of food at a time like this?" she often scolded when they brought it up. "I have important things to do, here!"
The very idea of having to host a party when she could be studying had her furious. She hadn't left the upstairs study in two days, and was being less helpful than ever. The rest of them had decided not to count on her appearing at the thing at all.
Their feelings were all mixed about this. Palom was frustrated with his sister, but more than that, he was worried. Ivri was hurt, because for the first time, she refused to speak to him except to order him out of her space. And Bethany was just plain angry. Things hadn't gone at all as she had been told they would.
At least the ghost isn't getting in our way, she thought sourly, as she trudged into the kitchen. I suppose it's something.
She also supposed she could try getting some kind of food prepared ahead of time. If nothing else, there was one type of pie she could make without burning anything down; it was the only thing she could really prepare well. And she was pretty sure she had everything on hand to make several of them. At least one thing was going half right.
If she was honest with herself, Bethany actually felt kind of proud that she was learning to navigate the kitchen. And her cooking skills were getting better. She hadn't poisoned anyone yet, and she hadn't burned anything in days. It was an improvement she could be solidly proud of. As she thought of Palom's reasoning behind the party, she began to feel slightly less upset about it. She had something to offer, just like everyone else; and she had an opportunity to share it with others, just like everyone else.
If I'm to be the wife of a lord, I guess I should start acting like it, she thought as she pulled things out of the pantry. Otherwise, I'll end up like that freak Lucille Harvey, who just stands around being pretty while someone else does all the work. Maybe it was selfish to assume that Porom would do all this stuff herself; I guess I just naturally thought she would, because she always does.
Bethany found herself amazingly alone for nearly an hour, as she carefully, cautiously measured ingredients for ten pies worth of dough. She was amazed to find that they had just enough flour for the task; but she found that they were short a few pounds of butter. She made a mental note to pick up some more on her next trip into the village, and hoped that she had the money for it. She hadn't expected common household items like butter, milk, and eggs to be as expensive as she had found they were...
As she stood back and gazed with pride over what work she had accomplished, she crossed her arms and tried to decide what to do next.
"Well, ghostie," she said to the air, "looks like we're alone here for a bit. Porom's locked herself in the study upstairs, so I wouldn't count on her for company. Ivri's outside somewhere. And Palom's gone into town—damn, if I had known we needed butter, I would have told him to get some on his way back! Talk about bad timing. Seeing as I can't start making my pies yet, I wonder what we should do now?"
Talking openly to the alleged ghost was a silly habit they had all picked up from Palom, who was still trying to convince it to make contact. Bethany had yet to sense anything out of the ordinary; but if her friends could feel something, she was willing to believe it was there. She was sure that Ivri had seen it several times, since the day they had moved in. He always said it was nothing—an occasional trick of the light or strange shadow in the corner of his eye. Probably just a combination of nerves and his glasses needing replacing, he always insisted.
But she wasn't so sure.
A prickle of curiosity suddenly went down her spine. Her eyes wandered to a door in the corner of the kitchen, which was shut and locked, with a note stuck to it. Danger, loose floorboards. Do not enter, it said, in Porom's neat cursive. As far as Bethany was aware, it was a narrow passage from the kitchen to the foyer, with a service entrance somewhere along the way. Once upon a time, the house staff would have carried food from the kitchen to the main rooms during gatherings—because it was apparently improper for fine guests to be aware that food came from a kitchen.
Only a few weeks after they had moved in, Porom had warned them that the passage was very dark and hard to navigate, with no windows or wall sconces to hold candles, and that the floor was treacherous to walk on without light. Palom had shrugged, and simply suggested saving some money to have these things fixed. His sister had vehemently shaken her head, and insisted a little too quickly that they needed the money for more pressing needs. While useful, the passage was far from a priority, and she was the only one who was ever in the kitchen anyway, and it was more sensible to just seal it off for now. She had also locked and posted a similar note on the door in the foyer. After that, they had mostly forgotten that it was part of their house.
Now that she was alone and Porom wasn't around to stop her, Bethany couldn't help noticing the locked door. Having full custody of the keys—including the one that would unlock this door—was too much for her. The passage was the last place in the house she hadn't explored. She took the ring of keys from her pocket, and went to try the green colored ones on the door. It took several tries, but she finally found the right one. She might have guessed; the right key was the only one whose green paint wasn't chipping and fading from use.
The door creaked open on hinges that hadn't been used in months; and the draught of air that blew into Bethany's face was cool and thick, smelling of mildew and damp wood. Inside, it was very dark, just like Porom had warned. It was all very eerie, and Bethany suddenly wondered if it was worth the curiosity. The feeling quickly passed, the creepiness of the passage making her mission all the more exciting. She lit a candle for light, and walked straight into the darkness.
She made her way carefully at first, wary of the loose floorboards they had been warned of. The boards creaked slightly under her feet, but felt perfectly sturdy. The further she went, the less cautious she became about it.
The walls were almost uncomfortably close, and the candle light was more than adequate to illuminate them. But there was less than nothing to see, after all. It was just dark and cramped, and Bethany wondered how servants were expected to carry trays of food through it, anyway. It also seemed to wander aimlessly around the side of the house, carved deep within the walls, a bit haphazardly. Bethany figured she must be about halfway to the other end, when the candlelight fell upon another door. The service entrance, she realized. She went to turn the doorknob, but found it was also locked. Deciding that the passage needed all the light and fresh air it could get, she set about flipping through the key rings to find its match.
All at once, a strange and unfamiliar feeling came over her. Suddenly, she felt the overwhelming feeling that she was being not the only one in the passage, accompanied by an unexplainable feeling of dread.
"...Hello?" she dared to ask, her voice shaking slightly. Of course, there was no reply. But the feeling that someone was with her, watching her intently, pressed down on her like a weight. Her heart filled with terror, she abandoned the service door and hurried on her way. She wanted to bolt, to get away from whatever was there; but for some reason, she felt like the sudden movement would startle the presence to anger, like a swarm of bees. That fear forced her maintain the fastest walk she could manage.
All the same, it felt like whatever was with her was following her determinedly. Pursuing her. A shiver ran down her spine, and overcame her fear of startling it. She broke into a run, praying that the candle wouldn't go out.
She nearly ran right into the door at the other end of the passage way; shut and locked, it had appeared to just be another painful stretch of darkness. Finding that it was solid, and had a knob waiting to be unlocked, Bethany heaved a great sigh of relief and began to fumble with the keys. Her panic rose again, as she found she had lost track of the one she needed. Whatever had been following her was still there, close beside her, perhaps close enough to touch her.
I am here...
Bethany felt a scream build in her throat, and was too distracted with the keys to bother fighting it. Scream, she did, as she jammed a random key into the doorknob, hoping it was the right one. When it didn't work, she felt tears of frustration and panic fill her eyes. She tried another random key, and another; and finally, on the fourth try, the lock clicked open. She threw the door open and exploded into the bright light of the foyer.
The candle fell to the floor and went out, as she slammed the door shut and leaned back heavily against it, panting from panic and adrenaline. She was safe. The presence was gone, banished by the light. She let the few tears fall down her face.
"Bethany?"
She jumped at the voice. To her overwhelming relief, it belonged to Palom, who was just walking in the front door with a package under his arm. Ivri was walking inside right behind him, carrying a package of his own, deep concern flashing behind his glasses.
Seeing her in such apparent distress, Palom dropped his package on the floor and dashed to her side, swooping her into a comforting, protective embrace.
"Bethany, what is it?" he asked, brushing away her tears. "What happened? What's wrong?"
"What were you doing in the back passage?" Ivri demanded behind them. "It's dangerous! You could have gotten hurt—it's why there are signs on the doors."
"I heard it," she chocked, her throat still tight. "I heard it! It was there, with me! It was chasing me, I couldn't..."
She breathed a deep sigh and let her head rest on Palom's shoulder. She was suddenly exhausted.
"That was so scary..."
While he held her tight and gently stroked her hair, trying to calm her, Ivri walked over to take the key ring from her hand. Without a word, he locked the door again.
"Now you see why Porom locked the door," Ivri muttered.
They turned to look at him, surprised and almost disbelieving. Seeing their expressions, he sighed and shrugged apologetically.
"We didn't even have to walk all the way through it to know," he explained. "There's something unearthly in there. The loose floorboards thing was a bluff—an excuse she knew you would buy without arguing or being too curious. I'm sorry we lied to you, but... We just didn't know what else to do."
Palom went to take the keys, his eyes alight. "The ghost hangs around in there and you never told me?" he said excitedly, trying to snatch the keying. "Gimme! I've got to see this!"
Ivri snatched the keys out of his reach with a beseeching look. "Palom, please, just trust me on this," he begged. "It sounds cool, but it's..."
"It's not," Bethany finished quietly, rubbing her arm. "I kept wishing it would contact me, just so I would know whether it was real or not. Now... I wish it had just stayed away from me. I never want to do that again."
Palom paused at that, crossing his arms, looking very conflicted.
"So, you've felt it, too," he mused, glancing at the door. "I'm the only one it won't talk to."
He scoffed, daring to smile faintly. "You'd think it would be a little more polite to the man of the house."
Finally, he sighed sadly, and went to put his arm around Bethany again. "Come on, let's get you out of here," he said, leading her away and toward the library. "I'm no expert on healing things, but I think you could use a cup of tea. You just sit down and pick up a good book. I'll take care of everything."
Bethany nodded faintly, still shaken. A book to read and a hot cup of tea would be an excellent distraction from what had happened. That nightmare was over; but she knew it would be a long time before she forgot it.
2222222222
In the kitchen, Palom began fixing tea while Ivri stood silently in the doorway, watching him. The other man hid his sulkiness well, but Palom knew him too well to miss it. While he used a Fire spell to boil water, Ivri watched with what certainly must have been envy. Black magic had a number of uses around the house; but the white mages hadn't been able to cast any spells in the house without losing consciousness. Even outside, it sapped them considerably. It was a strange phenomenon that had yet to be explained, and left them both feeling cooped up and anxious.
"I'm not going to lie," Palom said, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had settled, "I'm just a little freaked out. You and Porom are one thing, but Bethany... She can't even sense the ghost."
"Spirit," Ivri corrected bluntly, not for the first time. "You're a black mage; your job isn't to deal with the dead, it's to make the dead. That's why there are white mages, to clean up after you."
They had had this argument many times before; but it had always been in the spirit of deepening their understanding of their craft, and comments like that had always been dealt as friendly teasing. This time, Ivri seemed to really mean it.
"All I want is to know what's going on," Palom continued. "This is a lot less fun than it was the first few weeks. And I especially don't like what it's doing to my sister."
"Do you really think the spirit is what's making her like this?"
"I don't know. What else could it be?"
Ivri fiddled with the key ring in his hand. It was pretty clear that he would lock the other door, now that they were back in the kitchen, and Palom had resigned himself not to fight about it. Maybe it was for the best.
While he waited for the kettle to boil, Ivri stalked across the kitchen to the passage door. To Palom's surprise, he heard the door creak open. He turned to look and saw his friend holding the door open, beckoning to him.
"Just this once, while Porom Isn't around to yell at us," he said soberly. "I know you're dying to take a look."
Hardly able to contain himself, Palom practically bounced over and stuck his head into the thick blackness beyond.
"Wow, when you guys said it was dark, you weren't kidding," he commented brightly. "Hellooooooo?" he called into the darkness.
But there was no answer. Not to be deterred, he stepped into the passage.
"Hey, come on, you came out for everyone else! Well, it's me this time, so... Come out, come out, wherever you are!"
Nothing. It was utterly, eerily still.
"...Please?"
...
Finally, Palom gave up hope of ever seeing or hearing or even feeling the ghost. He sighed sadly, feeling defeated, and went back in the kitchen.
"I've got nothing," he sighed, as Ivri shut and locked the door.
"So much the better. I told her, if she just let you have your way, it would be over and done with. I never thought the lying was a good idea, but she insisted. I thought it was better, in the moment, to just humor her. But if I'm honest, it's been bothering me for a while. Since when do we hide things from each other, let alone lie to each other? It just doesn't sit right with me."
"Hey, you know what? Water under the bridge," Palom decided, putting his arm around his friend and leading him back to the stove. "We've been buds for a long time. It happens. I'm sure I've lied to you at some point. Sorry."
"You're forgiven," Ivri answered, his usual friendliness returning.
"But seriously. We've got to figure out what this thing is, and what it's doing to us. You've said it doesn't feel threatening, but suddenly, I'm not so sure about that anymore..."