As the group exited the Maids' Room, Sabrina folded her arms and bit her lip. It seems that Leota knows that woman, Elizabeth… An image of the bride's featureless face hidden behind the lacy veil popped up behind her eyes, causing the teenage witch to shiver. They're obviously well-acquainted; maybe they knew each other before they died? And who's Edward? Elizabeth's boyfriend or fiancé, maybe? …This just opened up a whole new bunch of questions. The more I learn, the more I realize that I don't know anything.
The small group walked back towards the door leading to the Foyer in silence. Leota decided that they would examine the room directly across from the Foyer door. Sabrina stopped for a moment, as if to readjust her boots and the backpack straps. Her goal, however, was to obtain some information.
"Who is Elizabeth?" she asked casually, brushing a piece of dust off her skirt. "And who is the man she was talking about?"
The blue-green shadows within the crystal ball stirred uneasily. The psychic was unsure of how much information to dole out at a time. She'd already related the story of the Beacon… Well, not all of the Beacon's story, but enough for now. I suppose telling her a little bit now wouldn't hurt, but I don't want to overload her with more information than she can handle.
Choosing her words carefully, Leota began. "Elizabeth Hollingsworth was the fiancée of the owner of the Mansion. His name was Edward Gracey—Master Gracey to everyone else, of course."
"Why was she wearing that wedding dress?" Sabrina asked curiously. Because if they were only engaged…
Leota's eyes dropped. If Sabrina had been paying closer attention, she might have noticed what could pass for unshed tears wavering in the ghostly woman's eyes. "Elizabeth died on her wedding day." Her voice broke slightly, dropping off by the end of the sentence.
Sabrina blanched, a sick feeling twisting in her stomach. That's so horrible…that poor woman…
"I remember…as she lay dying, she claimed that her love could never be subdued, even in death…that her heart beat for Edward alone…" Leota trailed off, the anguish evident in her voice.
Clearly, Leota had been good friends with Elizabeth, and her death must have been painful for everyone. Sabrina bit her lip. It would be cruel to ask Leota for more. She sounds so drained, right now.
"So, how do you know the Graceys?" Salem quipped. "Former clients?"
Then again, Salem doesn't have my sense of tact…
Leota gave the cat a wan smile. "I met Edward Gracey in 1852, the day he was born." Salem blinked. Leota continued, the slight change of topic giving her a chance to rein in her emotions, calming down if only for a moment. "My family was very poor—my mother read palms and did washing, but it wasn't enough. As soon as I was old enough, I managed to get hired by the previous Master Gracey, Edward's father. I was an assistant parlormaid, but I also helped look after the children sometimes." She smiled, reminiscing, "I loved all the Gracey children, but Edward was my favorite. He was such a wonderful little boy—like the little brother I never had."
"So why are you here?" Sabrina asked, fascinated by the story. "I mean, why aren't you still a servant…" she blushed and trailed off. Smooth move, Sabrina. That's certainly something very nice to ask somebody. The Detective tried to cover her embarrassment by laughing, but it ended up sounding nervous and insincere.
Leota, however, didn't seem to be insulted at all, and gave them an equivalent of a shrug—seeing as Leota lacked shoulders to do an actual one. "I became very close to the Gracey family as the years went on, especially where the children were concerned. One year, Edward's mother came back from a trip to Georgia…" The psychic paused for a moment, as if deciding what to say. "She was obsessed with the paranormal, and when she discovered that I had talents within that realm, she hired me as her personal contact to the supernatural world."
Salem blinked. "Just like that?"
"Well, she had her reasons," Leota explained in a hollow tone. She rushed on to finish. "And then after she died, Edward invited me to stay on as a houseguest."
Wow…Leota seems to become more of a real person every time she tells us more of her past. She's obviously more than some disembodied head in a crystal ball, but it's interesting to have a reminder that she was once a living, breathing girl…like me.
All too suddenly, the Dining Room door was before Sabrina's face.
Once the group entered the room, she wondered why she'd been nervous. The Dining Room was much like any dining room Sabrina had ever seen, although much grander. It was long and narrow, with a magnificent fireplace at one end and a high ceiling. An equally long and narrow table occupied the center of the room, with chairs stiffly arranged and plates set out, as if waiting for a dinner that was never served.
A chandelier set with wax candles hung over the table and some smaller tables were set on either side of the entrance door. On the right-hand-side were two recesses in the wall, one housing a spiral staircase leading to a second-story balcony. Leota explained that it was called a 'musicians' gallery,' and that was where musicians would sit and play when they were hired to entertain at dinner parties.
Even though she had barely been in the room for a minute, Sabrina could feel the pulsing energy of the switch. It was coming from quite high above her.
That must mean it's on the balcony…
Sabrina turned to her right, heading for the staircase. She was immediately greeted by a skeletal banshee drifting down the stairs, lank hair floating in a seaweed-like cloud.
At least I'm better prepared this time…
Sabrina felt the familiar flow of Soul Energy course from the Beacon and settle into her hands, pulsing along with the magical energy inside her body. She concentrated on gathering it, drawing it from the core and the two Soul Gems, pulling it into her fingertips. She pulled back her arm, timing it, waiting for the banshee to drift closer…
The banshee's hair flipped off her face as her skeletal features stretched into a grimacing scream.
"TAKE THAT!"
Sabrina had never thought of herself as a sadistic person in any way, shape, or form. (Mr. Kraft and Libby, however, would definitely fit the description.) But Sabrina felt that she would be lying to herself if she didn't admit that the ball of energy tearing through the banshee's face satisfied her in some small way.
Once the writhing, unrepentant spirit had been banished back to the Netherworld, Sabrina cautiously jumped up the curving marble staircase, admiring the wrought-iron banister. The balcony was crawling with Sabrina's least favorite creatures, but a few well-placed stomps took care of the poisonous arachnids.
And there, set on the wall, was the switch, the bone handle pulsing and dripping faint traces of energy.
The teenage witch grinned. "This is the easiest room to fix yet, huh?" She crowed, mostly to Salem, and pulled the switch. The candles on the chandelier burst into flame—for a brief moment. The next moment, they burst out of their sockets, as if of their own volition, and scattered, floating, about the room.
Sabrina blinked. Leota sighed. Salem began snickering. "And you said that this was the easiest room to solve!" the cat chortled, nearly doubling over.
The girl scowled at the chuckling cat. If she weren't so far away, she would have swiftly aimed a kick at his rear end. Gritting her teeth, she tore down the staircase. "It isn't as hard as it might look!" she called, moving towards a floating candle. "You just have to chase them down…"
The candle jumped out of her hands as she reached for it, swerving away to the back and left. Sabrina jumped forward and swiped, again. The recalcitrant candle danced out of the way.
Salem padded up the stairs and curled up on the balcony, amusing himself by watching Sabrina scream, curse, and chase after a floating candle. "Better than HBO," he decided.
A lock of wayward hair hung in her face, as the Spirit Detective glared at the candle floating in front of her. "I. Hate. You," she gritted through her teeth in frustration, pulling out the Beacon and attempting to smack the candle. Amazingly, a small spark of Soul Energy fizzled from the Beacon into the candle, the wick bursting into flames. Sabrina stopped, blinking, as it floated to hover behind her. She turned around, the candle following. Eying it oddly, Sabrina dodged to the left. The candle followed suit.
"Uh, Leota…" she trailed off.
"It's okay, honey," the Creole psychic soothed. "It isn't going to hurt you. Just…light all the candles. They'll be easier to manage if they're obedient like this."
Sabrina raised an eyebrow at Leota, but stretched her hand towards an unlit candle floating nearby. The wax cylinder lit at her touch, weaving through the air to join the other lit candle. With an amused chuckle, Sabrina dashed around the room, touching candles that burst into flames.
Salem chuckled as the teenage girl ran back and forth, candles floating behind her like a conga line. "Having a good time?" he drawled laconically, tail slowly lashing back and forth.
The blonde looked up at the balcony, grinning broadly. She turned away, dancing in a sea of pinpricks of light.
When all the lighted candles had been collected, Sabrina stood by the table, gazing thoughtfully at the chandelier. "Now, to put them back…" she mumbled. She turned to the line of candles. "Okay! Go back!"
Nothing happened.
Her eye twitched. Sabrina jabbed her finger at the chandelier. "Go back. Back to the chandelier."
The candles didn't move.
Sabrina flailed her arms. "Over there. Go! Go home!"
The candles still didn't move.
"Go HOME! What's WRONG with you? Are you too good for your home?"
On the spur of the moment, to add a dramatic flair to her ranting, Sabrina then hopped onto the table, gesturing to the chandelier. As her fingers brushed against cold brass, the candles eagerly flew to their appropriate spots. The chandelier's chain tightened with an audible clink and slowly rose. Almost immediately, a fire sprang to life in the gloomy, dormant fireplace, roaring and crackling.
Sabrina paused. "Has it…been fixed?" she called out, uncertainly. "There isn't some other catch to it, is there?"
"I would say it's done," Leota mused, eying the chandelier critically. "Good work, kid!"
Sabrina began to slowly wander about the room, exploring and taking in the sumptuous details. She walked down the length of the dining table, hands ghosting over the table settings. Yellowed linen draped the table, decorated with a border of faded leaves and vines. Bone china plates and tarnished silverware, along with brittle, fragile-looking napkins, were set in perfectly exact, symmetrical patterns. Everything was perfect, and ready for the dinner party that was never to be.
Maybe this was set for Edward and Elizabeth's wedding dinner, Sabrina realized with a start. For a moment, she imagined the table lined with excitedly chattering wedding guests, a constant joyous buzz filling the room. A magnificent wedding cake would be wheeled in, the star of the show, but only eclipsed by the lovely bride and her dark, mysterious groom…
She came to herself with a start. Come on, Sabrina. No time to waste with useless daydreams…Shaking her head to clear the cobwebs of her imaginings away, she kept on walking towards the end of the room, running her fingertips over the tops of dusty chairs. At the far end of the room lay a magnificent fireplace, a fire now crackling merrily inside it. Stretching pale hands out to get warm, Sabrina admired the design.
The majority of the brass surface was decorated with a relief of a massive flurry of flames. Dark angels and tormented spirits writhed, frozen for an eternal moment in their prison of fire and brimstone. A huge wrought-iron fire shield, with a curtain of flames worked into the design, safeguarded a careless viewer from falling into the hearth. Or falling into the mouth of Hell, Sabrina thought wryly.
The room seemed so quiet, almost peaceful, with the merry crackling of the fire, and Salem's distant, contented purrs as he curled up on the balcony. Sabrina leaned against the wall, relaxing slightly. The musty decaying stench was beginning to fade, although she was beginning to notice its presence less and less as she progressed further into the mansion. "I wonder how much longer this will go on for," she wondered softly. "Just how many rooms are there, anyway?"
Remembering the huge size of the mansion, and the possibility of dozens more rooms, the Spirit Detective groaned, sliding to the floor. Eddies of dust swirled as she sat down, briefly stirring up a piece of paper at her side. Curious, she gently lifted the brittle parchment off the floor.
Ah, this piece should complete another Death Certificate. I wonder who it is?
Shrugging, she examined the picture. This time, the macabre sketch was of a haggard, skeletal-looking man hunched over a keyboard. She could almost feel the fervor with which he was pounding the keys. Yet a dark shadow loomed eerily in the background, looking uncannily like (if she squinted closely) the Grim Reaper.
"The Shadow of Death," Sabrina murmured quietly. She faintly shuddered at the thought. Carefully, she used her free hand to push herself up from the floor. The teenage witch winced at the amount of gray, furry dust coating her hand, and hastily wiped it on the skirt of her dress. Slowly, she made her way over to the staircase, where Leota had been left with the backpack.
The psychic swiveled to face her as the teenage witch drew nearer. "Look what I found," Sabrina said quietly, showing her the certificate.
"My, my," Leota murmured in her soft drawl. "Herr von Baroketch. It's the Organist's Death Certificate." Her eyes wearily rested on the sketch, as if she had seen it far too many times. "That poor man. He was a workaholic in every sense of the word…" she chuckled softly, humorlessly.
Sabrina's eyes turned to the paper again, eyes wide in disbelief. "He worked himself to death?"
"Herr von Baroketch was a terribly gifted musician," Leota explained, "renowned throughout Europe as a genius, perhaps second only to Ludwig von Beethoven himself. Supposedly the two were rivals—or maybe it was only in von Baroketch's mind. He pushed himself with an insane fervor, determined to triumph. Apparently, von Baroketch had secretly composed a master symphony—one that would cement his position as a musical genius forever and completely blow Beethoven out of the water. He worked for weeks on it, often going without sleep or food. But one day…" she shrugged. "His mortality caught up with him. And that's why Beethoven's in the classical music aisle, and von Baroketch…well…isn't."
Sabrina stared at the paper. "I feel so horrible for him," she mumbled. "All his energy, all his emotion…for nothing."
Leota sighed gustily. "Indeed. But for him? Anything for his art."
"Must have been a Method artist," Salem suggested, sauntering down the staircase. He earned withering glances from both the women.
"The two of them have nothing to do with each other," Sabrina groaned.
"Fine. Be picky," Salem sniffed.
The teenage witch rolled her eyes, carefully placing Leota into the backpack, and swinging it into place. "Come on, you. Let's go."
"Let's check out the party, though," Salem pointed out.
"What are you…oh." Indeed, several ghosts were now seated around the table. A few were leaning back in their chairs, speculating about the upcoming meal. One guest apparently had been celebrating a little too early and had passed out under the table—if ghosts could, that is.
At one end of the table sat a cheery, plump woman with a bouffant of magnificent, bright orange hair. She was attired in a flounced pink-and-white striped dress, and was eagerly contemplating the rather large phantom birthday cake placed before her.
By now rather curious, Sabrina slowly edged closer as the woman mused out loud. "Now, what kind of wish should I make?" the ghostly woman pondered. After a few moments, her face broke into a sunny smile. "Oh! I know! Good health…a long life…" she paused again, smiling broadly. "And many more birthdays to celebrate with you all…" She looked around, beaming at the table's occupants. Her gaze settled a moment where Sabrina stood, but seemed to pass right through her.
The woman drew in as deep a breath as she could, and then leaned forward to extinguish the candles. After a moment, they flickered back, but the woman simply sat in her chair again, unfazed.
"Did she…not notice?" Sabrina asked Leota, holding the backpack at an angle where the psychic ghost could see.
Leota smiled sadly. "No. You see…with the exception of a few, most of the ghosts in the mansion are…stuck in the past. They haven't accepted their deaths, and probably don't realize they're ghosts. To them, they are forever reliving the last moments of their life." At the sharp intake of breath that came from Sabrina, she continued.
"The birthday girl over there is…or, was, rather…called Madame Tangerine. Madame Victoria Boufant, really, but never mind that. She's one of Edward's aunts, and she just loved to throw parties. And most of them were to die for." She chuckled softly over her accidental joke. "If I remember correctly, she died of a heart attack at her last birthday party…right after blowing out the candles. But, for her, the party's never ended."
Sabrina cringed faintly. "That's horrible," she mumbled. She sighed sadly, turning to walk towards the door, throwing one last look at the never-ending birthday party behind her.
"That's too bad," Salem declared, trotting alongside Sabrina. "I wonder why such a bad fate's befallen those poor ghosts?"
"Why, indeed?" said Leota.
Herr von Baroketch and Madame Tangerine's (the organist and 'birthday girl' in the ride's ballroom scene) stories are loosely adapted on the ones created for them in the Unofficial Biographies of the Haunted Mansion from Doombuggies. Sorry if I keep tossing that out, but I always feel it's important to point out your sources.
There's a bit of Happy Gilmore tossed in this chapter; points to those who can find it!
Next chapter:
The Ballroom turns out to be a trap of supernatural aura, giant spiders, and one very cranky Organist. Can Sabrina fight her way of out the spiders' web, or will she succumb to the pit of monsters? Even after all challenges are presented, the Grand Master of the Order of Shadows will reveal himself…