Chapter 5: How Lucy Died
Danny and Flo finally stumbled into the house an hour before dusk. There was a strange pair of goggles on the kitchen table, as well as what looked to be another silverglass jar covered with a green and white dotted handkerchief. Grandpa George, it seemed, had sent someone all over the house to retrieve them – he recognized both items from opposite parts of the building. Flo went to make tea as he thumped the heavy box on the table. He noticed a new sketch on the Thinking Cloth that seemed to be Flo's family tree. It included all of her aunts, uncles, and siblings, but he absentmindedly traced only the lines that led to her.
George Cubbins - Florence Bonnard Quill Kips - Holly Munro
Anthony James Cubbins - Lucy Clare Kips
Florence Cubbins
He had always been amazed at the connection between the two sides of her family. His parents didn't seem to get along with their in-laws in the slightest. Holidays were a major source of tension. After growing up with Flo, in some ways, Ms. Holly was more of a grandmother to him than his own Grandma Kitty. He could not imagine that strong willed old woman moving in with them. Instead, he found himself hoping to join this family.
Shaking that thought from his mind, he realized that Grandpa George was no longer at the table. He heard the toilet down the hall give a reluctant flush, and the old man waddled back to the kitchen to fill the chair once again. Danny tried very hard not to wince as the old man's shirt got caught on the back of the seat, revealing … well, a different seat.
"So." George grumbled, "You found it. Took you long enough."
"One of the bushes was missing, sir. So we didn't realize we were digging in the wrong spot until about two hours ago."
"Likely story. I see the way you look at my granddaughter. But no matter. I should have done this before you left, just to make sure you heard what you say you heard." He lifted the handkerchief off of the jar. Danny had only seen its contents once, when he was eight and Flo challenged him to a bravery contest. The sight still made the hairs on his neck stand on end. But then George loosened the cap at the top and tapped on the side of the glass as if trying to wake the Ghost inside.
"Wake up, ya dumb old Skull," George snapped, his face squinting at the remains within. "I know you can hear me."
The yellow-green contents stirred and swirled. They hadn't done that last time. And then –
Oh, leave me alone you miserable old twit.
It was all Danny could do not to fall out of his chair.
"You can speak too?" He cried.
The Skull swiveled slowly to face him, the plasm within collected to form a ghastly grin.
Ahh…another one. I should have known. Do me a favor, and tell George he's a nasty, pompous mound of lard that looks as though he was painfully produced by a whale.
"Absolutely not."
Prat. Wait a moment. The grin changed. I sense Lucy. Is that old bird nearby, too? I thought she'd died… Unless she fancied copying the great Marissa, that is…
"I take it he's instructing you to insult me. Good, means he's up. No doubt been bored the past few decades. It also means you can, in fact, communicate with Type Threes."
Flo set the mugs and kettle on the table, covering up the family tree.
"Knew you'd have the answer, Gramps. So what was the treasure hunt for?"
The Ghost in the jar continued to hurl insults, but George tightened the cap once again as he replied, "Not sure. We'll have to have Danny boy chat with Lucy. I'm waiting for Holly to come back before we open the chest."
Danny could hear Holly's slippers shuffle down the hall upstairs. It seemed she was pacing.
"Is she okay, Gramps? She seemed so sad earlier…"
"She's unreasonably guilty. And worried. She doesn't think she can face old Luce here."
"Why not?"
Her grandfather was silent. "She blames herself for their deaths." He sighed and went on, "Lucy and Lockwood were mad for each other, but they kept it to themselves for the most part. When we discovered there'd be a poltergeist at our next site, Holly was convinced – as was I – that they needed to fess up and get their emotions out. All ghosts feed off of emotion, but they way those two were behaving toward each other was dangerous in an operative situation. Each was willing to die for the other, and it made them both reckless. Neither wanted to live without the other, but neither could admit to it. We convinced them bottling up that kind of emotion is always risky." He looked pointedly at Danny, then said "Things were never so carefree in that house than the days in between getting them to talk and going to Marissa's grave. But…the ghosts were out of control. And there was...an unexpected opponent. They died anyway," he finished tersely.
"I'm sorry for your loss, sir." Danny said after a moment. Even after all this time, the man's grief was obvious. He didn't know what else to say.
George merely nodded. "Frankly, I'm not surprised by the end result. Like I said, they were reckless. Reckless, and in love. Now…where's Holly?"
Danny heard her slippers coming slowly toward them. The first thing he noticed when she entered the kitchen was the blotchy red result of tears. Nevertheless, she'd valiantly tried for a brave smile. Flo helped her into her chair, and Danny offered a mug of tea. Once she was settled, George eagerly shoved the strange goggles on his face and opened the latch.
The silvery purple glow of Lucy Carlyle drifted out of the box. She seemed to be wearing leggings, a skirt, and a long jacket – completely out of style, but that was not what drew Danny's attention.
She had something long and sharp piercing through her right shoulder.
This was it. All the hours spent extracting questionably reliable information from the Skull led to this. George's research. Lockwood's mood swings. Her re-entry to the Other Side was for this. Holly's fretting. Kips' attitude. Not to mention the time she took preparing her journals incase this went wrong. Everything was on the line.
But after all that build up, Marissa's tomb seemed innocuous.
They broke into the above ground mausoleum shortly before dusk, where an almost comically unconcealed latch revealed the staircase to the coffin. It was almost too easy.
An iron circle of heavy duty chains was constructed first. Then the candles were lit. And of course, tea was brewed. It was just like any other case. There was even a Source of sorts to be found. Granted, Lucy had found the one hidden on the Other Side by herself. It was risky, and terrifying, but she'd done it. Still, she was grateful to have the rest of the team by her side tonight. Once they'd gotten this item taken care of, Fittes would age and die like a normal human, and her grasp on immortality would end.
The boys heaved the stone lid off of the coffin. Nothing happened.
"Empty, as we suspected."
Captain George Obvious, with the assist, the Skull hissed.
"Skull, if you're not going to say anything helpful –" Lucy placed the jar on the floor and glared.
Oh, keep your hair on. You're all probably going to die anyway.
"Still not helpful."
What can I say? The poltergeist is here all right. The others, too. You can feel them for yourself. If you and those dolts were looking in the right place, they'd show up.
"And where, dear Skull, do you suggest we look?"
Anywhere but the coffin.
"Captain Skull Obvious, with the assist."
She ignored his muttered reply and looked up from the Skull, only to see that each person had had abandoned exploring the coffin and taken a section of the room to investigate instead.
"When this ghost shows up, make sure you notice what caused it. That'll be the only clue to the location of Marissa's Source." She said loud enough for everyone to hear. "And remember – it's following orders. It'll be more purposeful than we're used to."
Just then, the room erupted.
Statues, decorations, metal light posts and agency gear whirled about the room counter clockwise. The temperature plummeted, and ghost fog swept across the floor. The sudden violence made Lucy's head spin. Holly screamed as she was bombarded with paraphernalia, Kips rushed to her side. She didn't know where George was. Lucy heard Lockwood call her name and wave his arms, beckoning her to his corner.
"It was me!" He shouted. "The source is somewhere in this corner – I'd just moved the candelabra on this table to the side when everything went nuclear!" She could barely hear him over the din. "I'll cover you – it's got to be nearby!"
Lucy frantically began searching for the object. She Touched everything she could think of, but there was no time to get a proper reading. The table had no secret compartments. The wall had no loose stones. Knocking on them would be useless. She even checked the wrought iron candelabra before the vengeful spirit wrenched it from her fingers. Nothing.
She faced the room. Lockwood's back was to her, fending off the inanimate objects hurtling towards her. And then she saw something that made her blood run cold.
An iron bar, wicked sharp, was pointing straight towards them.
Lockwood's attention was on the stone bust of some ancient notable directly in front of him.
Without thinking, she threw herself against him. He smacked against the cobblestones, momentarily stunned. The iron ran her straight through, pinning her to the wall. Her toes barely reached the floor.
Her breath rattled and slowed. The pain was so intense she could barely think. She noticed a faint glow forming around her.
A death glow.