Chapter Thirteen
Nesbitt was still staring at the message when Lector and Evangeline came into the room.
"What is it?" Lector frowned.
"It's bad," Nesbitt growled. "A parting gift from that madman the police arrested."
Lector and Evangeline walked over to look. "Oh no," Evangeline gasped.
Lector narrowed his eyes. "Is this silent partner the one who broke in the house and hurt Mr. Ishtar?"
"Most likely," Johnson moaned. "But who could he be? And why did he attack the Ishtar boy? If it was because he was caught coming out of the wardrobe, why was he coming out of it in the first place?"
"I guess it's possible he didn't know what room he was coming out in," Lector said, "although I find it unlikely."
"There's just too much going on here," Evangeline ranted, her hands on her hips.
"And just what are you doing down here, Johnson?" Nesbitt asked.
"I came to find you and Lector," Johnson said. "Then I noticed the message while checking to see if either of you left a message. He must have sent it right before he had to give up his phone at the police station."
"Gansley and Crump are still in the attic?" Lector asked.
"Yes," Johnson said. "I think they're about to give up, though." He slumped back. "What are we going to do?"
"I'm calling an exorcist," Evangeline insisted. "I know it won't help with the living person problem, but clearing out the ghosts would give me a great deal of peace of mind. Then we should go over every inch of this house to find all possible secret passageways. If we can figure out how this person is getting in, we can block it off."
"I'll start right now," Nesbitt volunteered, and started knocking on the wall.
Lector lingered, regarding Johnson in concern. "Are you going to be alright?"
"Yes . . . I guess so," Johnson said. "I'll help too. I have to do something or I'll go insane." He crossed the room to the opposite wall and started testing it for secret springs or levers.
Evangeline was picking up the phone and taking it into the hall, away from the knocking. "Hello? I need an exorcism performed on my house," she was saying into it.
Lector shook his head, sighed, and closed and locked the French doors leading outside.
xxxx
Gansley pushed another box out of his way as he, Crump, and the others lingering in the attic continued to explore the strange space. There wasn't really much room for walking, as most of the attic was taken up by tables and stacks of boxes both on the tables and on the floor.
"You know something?" Crump hissed under his breath. "The longer we're here, the more I feel something. And I've gotta say, I don't like it."
"I can't say I care much for it either," Gansley said.
"Looks like most of the group is giving up by now too," Crump said. "Maybe they're going to see how the kid is. I wonder if Johnson found Lector and Nesbitt."
"Let's hope so," Gansley said.
As they came back to the door, Gansley pushed it open and looked down the stairs to the third floor. Crump followed, peering over the older man's shoulder. "So, are we going back down or what?"
"Why not?" Gansley shrugged. "I doubt there's much more we can accomplish up here, if anything. Aside from finding that poor boy, this entire experience seems to have been a waste of time."
Crump looked around the attic. "Hey, we're leaving," he called. "Is anyone still up here besides us?" No one answered, and he had to hope that despite the floor's immense size, he would be heard all across it since it was one big room.
Gansley headed down the stairs, his cane clicking as it connected with each one. Crump chased after him, but stopped and stared when they reached the third floor. "Uh . . . does anything look out of place to you?" he asked.
Gansley studied the third floor hallway with a deep frown. "I don't remember it looking like this at all when we were here before," he objected. "All the rooms are suddenly out of order and I don't see the stairs leading down anywhere."
"But that's impossible!" Crump cried.
"Crump, right now I don't know what's impossible and what's not," Gansley retorted. He took out his phone. "No Signal," he growled in disgust.
"What the heck are we gonna do?!" Crump panicked.
"I'm sure you're doing exactly what the spirits want," Gansley pointed out. "Let's just stay calm and explore. This has to be some kind of optical illusion. Perhaps if we visualize the way the floor actually looks and insist on treating it as though it looks that way, we'll break the spell and be set free."
"And what if we're not?! We could be trapped here for ages!" Crump wailed.
"Let's worry about that later." Gansley's voice had gained an edge. "As an accountant, you know how to be logical and practical. Put those skills to use!"
Crump took a deep breath. "Okay, you're right. I'll try not to let the ghosts get to me. I'll think about the way the floor's supposed to look. . . . There's a plant over there. . . . Uh . . . some kind of random room with white sheer curtains over there. . . ."
"A sun room," Gansley grunted.
". . . Hey, doesn't this house have a widow's walk roof?" Crump suddenly remembered.
"Yes, but Evangeline didn't want us to go up there," Gansley said. "She said the stairs leading up to it were rickety."
"What if that was, you know, another excuse, like with the North wing?" Crump said.
"You mean, maybe it's haunted and she didn't want us up there because of that," Gansley grunted. "I suppose it's possible, but when we're trying to draw out the spirits now, you'd think she would have broke down and mentioned it."
"Maybe we should go back up, find the stairs, and get on the roof," Crump said. "Then we could start screaming for help."
"For that matter, we could do that right here," Gansley said.
"Yeah. . . ." Crump turned to look back the way they had come anyway. "Gansley!" he boomed. "The attic stairs are gone!"
"What?!" Gansley looked too. Indeed, now there was only a blank wall. "Bah! It has to be an illusion!" He stormed over and felt around with his cane. He only touched thin air.
"They're really gone!" Crump exclaimed. "We're gonna be trapped up here forever!"
Gansley was badly shaken by this point himself. But still he insisted, "We're not going to be trapped, Crump. Let's forget the attic and just start walking here. Sooner or later we'll unravel this nonsense."
Crump wasn't sure at all, but he walked with Gansley up the hall. "You know, this is like stuff Noa could do in his world," he said.
"Yes, only this is the real world," Gansley countered. "Which makes it far more baffling."
Crump certainly didn't disagree.
xxxx
Seto roamed the strange area behind and underneath Marik and Rishid's wardrobe as soon as he found a rope. There really didn't seem to be much to see, which only bewildered and annoyed him even more. What could be the point of such a strange space?
"Seto?" Mokuba called, obviously distressed. "Is everything okay down there?"
"Fine," Seto called back. "How's Marik?"
"Still not awake," Mokuba sighed.
Seto sighed and walked underneath the stairs, then paused. There was a dark green strongbox in a corner, similar to the one they had found in Gozaburo's bedroom but much older. He bent down, lifting it out. It wasn't heavy at all, so if it was holding the mysterious family treasure, it must be an unusual one. Maybe it was empty. But it was locked, and would an empty box be locked?
"How far does that space stretch out?" Mokuba asked.
"It's only the width of the bedroom," Seto said. "It's probably different from the space in Nesbitt and Johnson's room." He walked back out. "I'm coming up."
"Okay." Mokuba backed away from the wardrobe and went back to Marik's bedside. In a moment, Seto climbed up on the rope, the strongbox under one arm. "What's that?"
"I have no idea," Seto said matter-of-factly. "I'll show it to Lector or Evangeline."
Marik groaned, finally beginning to return to consciousness. His siblings and Mokuba immediately perked up.
"Marik!" Ishizu exclaimed.
"Brother, how are you feeling?" Rishid asked.
Marik raised a hand to his forehead. "Not very well," he mumbled.
"What happened?!" Mokuba cried. "Marik, we found you in a secret passageway in the attic!"
"What?" Marik looked up at him, then frowned as the memories began to return. "That's right . . . I saw this man coming out of the wardrobe and I chased him through it and up some stairs. He had a rope he'd tied from the stairs' railing to the wardrobe. At the top, he suddenly ambushed me and shoved a cloth over my face." He scowled.
"That creep," Mokuba spat.
"Did you see what he looked like at all, Brother?" Ishizu queried.
"No," Marik sighed. "He was dressed all in black, including wearing a ski mask over his face."
"Are you even sure it was a man?" Seto wondered.
"I'm sure," Marik grunted. He squinted at Seto. "What's that box?"
"I don't know," Seto said. "I found it in the secret passage behind your wardrobe. I'm going to show it to Lector and Evangeline."
"Good luck," Marik said, leaning deeper into the pillows.
"I'll tell the doctor you're awake," Seto added. He headed out the door.
Mokuba smiled. "I'm really glad you're awake, Marik. I hope you won't have a headache for too long."
"Me too," Marik said, but managed a smile back.
Rishid was still troubled. "When you saw that man, Marik, did you try to wake me?"
". . . I called to you," Marik admitted, "but I couldn't linger to make sure you'd hear me. He was getting away and I felt I had to chase him."
"You probably couldn't have gone across on that rope anyway," Mokuba said slowly.
"Perhaps not, but I still wish I had awakened," Rishid said.
Marik looked to him. "It's alright, Rishid. You'll just have to focus on the fact that I will be okay."
"Yes," Rishid agreed. "I will try."
xxxx
Lector was worn-out from trying to find secret passages in the walls. Nesbitt and Johnson were still going at it, but Evangeline had gone off to prepare for the arrival of the exorcist. Lector still didn't know what he thought of that. He had heard that it often took many repeat cleansings to remove spirits by exorcism.
"Shouldn't the others be back from the attic by now?" he finally spoke.
"You'd think so," Nesbitt said.
As if on cue, Joey led a group into the room right then. "Hey, guys," he greeted. "Where's Gansley and Crump?"
Johnson jerked. "They're not with you?!"
"Nah. We thought they must've come down ahead of us," Joey said.
"Well, they're not here," Nesbitt said. "We were just wondering about them."
Lector headed for the doorway. "If they didn't come down, they must still be up there," he said. "I'm going back to try to find them."
"We'll come with you," Johnson said, immediately abandoning the wall. "I probably should have just stayed with them. . . ."
"Let's not just jump to the conclusion that something's wrong," Nesbitt objected. "They're probably fine."
"In this house, 'probably' isn't good enough," Lector retorted. "We have to be sure." He looked to Joey. "Oh, and you might want to be prepared, Mr. Wheeler. Evangeline has called in an exorcist. He's going to try to rid the North wing of its spirits."
"WHAT?!" Joey yelped. "I don't wanna be here for that!"
Mai rolled her eyes. "Then what do you want to do, Joey? It's not like we have a lot of options."
"We could go into town," Joey said.
"I think that's a good idea," said Yugi, who had joined them when they had first come down. "I'm sure all of us could use a break from all the crazy things happening."
"Oh, you said it," Téa said. "But first we should make sure Marik's okay. He hadn't woke up when I looked in on them."
"Yeah, he probably won't be able to come with us," Tristan said. "I'm sure Kaiba would like to get Mokuba away from all of this, though."
"Mokuba won't leave Marik," Téa said.
"If Marik's awake, he'd probably encourage Mokuba to go," Duke said. "And he probably should. This place can really get you down after a while."
"Alright, let's check on Marik," Yugi said. "And maybe some of us should then go on to help find Gansley and Crump."
"We'll start looking for them right now," Lector said, moving towards the stairs.
It was a shock when they arrived on the third floor, intending to head for the attic, and found Gansley and Crump slowly making their way down the hall with Crump providing commentary on what the area was supposed to look like. Gansley occasionally chimed in with comments of his own.
"What are they doing?" Nesbitt frowned, raising an eyebrow.
"It's as if they think everything looks different and they're trying to piece together how it really looks," Johnson realized.
Lector ran over. "Gansley?! Crump?!"
The two walked right past him, seemingly not hearing.
Johnson was horrified. "Are they under a spell now too?!"
"I'm afraid that's a possibility," Lector exclaimed.
"So what can we do?" Nesbitt frowned.
"I suppose all we can do is follow them around and try to get through to them," Lector said.
"I should have stayed with them!" Johnson moaned.
"Then you'd just be under a spell too," Nesbitt pointed out.
"Even if that's technically true, I can't help still wishing I had been there," Johnson said.
"And we'd be just as upset," Nesbitt growled.
Lector felt overwhelmed. What were they going to do?
"Gansley! Crump!" he called again. "Listen to me! Look at me!" He ran over, grabbing Crump's shoulder. "You feel that, don't you?!"
Crump flinched. "Who's there?!"
"It's me!" Lector cried in desperation.
"Gansley, I think one of those ghosts just touched me," Crump said in horror.
Gansley paused, taking in the feeling. "I don't think so," he said. "Calm down and pay attention. I don't feel anything dangerous or even silently watchful or curious. It feels . . . familiar and good." His eyes widened as the spell broke and the other three became visible.
". . . You're right," Crump acknowledged, to Lector's relief. Then he saw too. "Guys!" He grinned widely. "Aww, hey, it's great to see you! I'm sorry I thought you were a ghost, Lector. . . ."
"You apparently couldn't see or hear any of us," Lector said. "But what were you seeing?!"
"The whole place warped and changed!" Crump gestured wildly. "The rooms weren't in the same places and we couldn't see any stairs!"
"What a nightmare," Johnson gasped.
Nesbitt frowned. "Why could the spell over these two be broken so easily but the block over my memories only fades a little at a time?"
Gansley sighed. "We don't really know what happened to you, Nesbitt. But it was likely done by far more malevolent forces, since we were in the North wing at that time." He watched Nesbitt carefully, concerned that this might discourage him even more.
"What if I really don't want to remember?" Nesbitt worried.
"Of course you want to remember!" Lector cried in despair.
"You can't know that! None of you can know that!" Nesbitt finally boomed. He ran past them and up the stairs leading to the attic.
"Nesbitt!" Lector called after him, but in vain.
"What the heck's he doing?!" Crump exclaimed.
"He needs some time alone," Gansley frowned, "but that's not the best place to seek it."
"So who goes after him?!" Crump wondered, apparently not sure if Lector doing it was the best idea.
"I'll go," Gansley said.
"What if the ghosts try to warp your perception of reality when you come back down?" Johnson worried.
"Then we'll have a problem and Nesbitt will only feel even more guilty," Gansley said. He started up the stairs.
xxxx
Nesbitt had found the stairs leading to the roof. They didn't seem at all rickety, as Evangeline had told them, so he went up and through the door, leaving it open behind him. He wouldn't be long, but he badly needed to clear his head somehow.
The roof had been fixed for people to enjoy time there; a table and chairs, complete with large umbrella, adorned one corner. Nesbitt walked over to the balcony railing and looked down at the front yard. Everything looked peaceful, but a car was pulling in at the driveway. As Nesbitt watched, a priest got out and headed for the porch. Evangeline's exorcist, no doubt.
Nesbitt sighed and turned away, not wanting to be spotted and mistaken for one of the ghosts or thought to be spying. Instead he sank to his knees. "Oh God, why don't I remember him?" he cried in despair. "He's been nothing but kind and patient with me, even though we don't always get along, and I just can't remember our friendship! I only remember little insignificant things and times when I hurt him! How can things really be the way he and the others say when I can't remember any of it? And if they are, what kind of friend am I to not be able to remember?! What if I don't appreciate him and that's why I can't remember?"
"That's not true."
Nesbitt started and turned. Gansley was standing in the doorway to the roof, regarding Nesbitt sadly but firmly.
"You care about Lector so much, Nesbitt. You definitely appreciate him."
"Then why don't I remember him?!" Nesbitt screamed, getting to his feet. "Why did the spell over you and Crump break so easily?!"
"It wasn't the same kind of spell," Gansley insisted. "It wasn't as strong. The only kind of spell that could possibly keep you from remembering your friendship with Lector would have to be incredibly strong and dangerous. And even at that, it isn't holding you. I know it isn't feeling like it to you, but you are remembering things. In a way, you do remember what it's like to be with him and care about him. You feel completely safe with him, and you felt that all on your own, without any of us prompting you."
"How can you be so sure that's what it is?!" Nesbitt demanded.
"Because I do remember," Gansley insisted. "The rest of us aren't under a spell."
"Maybe you are," Nesbitt countered. "Maybe all of you only think Lector means something to me and I'm the one who remembers the truth!"
"That wouldn't explain your memories trickling back," Gansley pointed out. "Think, Nesbitt! Think about how you feel when you're around Lector! Would you feel so completely safe if he wasn't your friend?"
"The memories trickling back could be part of the spell over me!" Nesbitt said. "Maybe we're all being deceived!"
Gansley couldn't hide the pain that flickered in his eyes. "Is that what you truly believe?"
Nesbitt looked away despondently. "I don't know what to believe."
"Then afford us a bit of trust," Gansley said. "Acknowledge that if we're right, we remember what you don't."
"You don't know how hard this is," Nesbitt snarled. "You don't know what it's like to remember every aspect of your life except one! I can't make sense of it, so I try to think of every possibility and reason for it there could be. I just find it so hard to believe that magic or some other supernatural force could do this!"
"So do I," Gansley admitted, "but it makes more sense than the alternative.
"You're right, I don't know how hard it is for you. But I know it's tearing your and Lector's hearts apart. And it's tearing the rest of our hearts to watch you and feel so helpless to do anything."
Nesbitt clenched a fist. "I want to remember," he said hopelessly. "More than anything, I just want to remember! . . ."
"And I believe you will," Gansley said. "Maybe this . . . ahem . . . exorcism will even help with that. But even if it doesn't, your memories are coming back, little by little. And since they are, that means eventually they will all return."
"I guess," Nesbitt grunted.
"You're stronger than any magic spell," Gansley said. He drew an arm around Nesbitt's shoulders. "Meanwhile, I would like to know why Evangeline said the stairs up here were rickety when they were not. Why don't we go in and ask?"
Nesbitt nodded. "Alright."
At that moment, a bizarre wave of energy knocked them both off their feet and to the roof. "What on Earth?!" Gansley yelled.