Bones and Ashes

by Gemma Holden

  Valic stood in the middle of the street. He wore a black overcoat and grey gloves, but no hat.

  “What do you want from me?” Her voice sounded loud in the silence.

  He stood motionless, watching her. “Where are you going?” he asked, ignoring her question.

  “Why do you care?”

  He walked toward her. “I’m curious why a girl with no magic is running in the night, all alone. Why aren’t you safe in your bed like the other mortals?”

  “I have to help my cousin.”

  He crouched down on his heels. He watched her as you might watch an animal in a zoo, trying to work out why it did the things it did. His hair shone like moonlight, but there was no moon tonight. It seemed to glow with its own light. His face was beautiful, his eyes so black under his long dark lashes. Despite the rain, his clothes were dry.

  “What is it you think you can do? You have no magic, no way of stopping the ghost. No way to even get there. There is nothing you can do. You should go home.”

  His voice was soft and persuasive; she should go back to the school. There was nothing she could do. But she already knew that.

  She pushed herself to her feet. Her ankle hurt, but she stood. He rose with her. She met his gaze. “I have to try.” She limped past him and began to run.

  ****

  Raiden ran, even though she knew it was hopeless. She would never get there in time, but she would try anyway. She stopped to catch her breath. She stood panting, her hands on her knees. She heard laughter. A man and a woman were coming down the street. The woman wore an extremely low-cut black dress that had slipped down to leave one shoulder bare. She wasn’t entirely human. Her ears were pointed and her eyes were red with black slit pupils. A single twisted horn jutted out from the man’s forehead. His arm was about the woman as they swerved along, drunk.

  The man stumbled to a halt. “Look, a little girl, out all alone in the dark.”

  The woman had her arm about his neck. She swayed on her feet. Her companion appeared to be the only thing keeping her upright. “A pretty girl,” she said, her voice husky. “Look at that golden hair. The fairies would pay a few pounds for it. And her eyes; what lovely eyes. I want her eyes.”

  They stumbled toward her. Raiden backed away.

  A carriage appeared behind the couple, coming down the street, the horses bearing down upon them. The driver seemed to be heading straight for them. The man swore and pulled the woman out of its path before it crushed them. Raiden froze. There was no time to get out of the way. It pulled to a stop a handbreadth in front of her. She reached out and touched the front horse. Her hand passed straight through it. A large familiar shape sat atop the driver’s seat. Deg sat next to Tobin, his black eyes gleaming in the dark. Tobin swung down. He had come for her. He had disobeyed her grandmother and come.

  “You shouldn’t have come,” she told him. “When she finds out what you’ve done, she will be furious.”

  He held the door open, waiting. She hugged him about his waist. He was so big; her arms couldn’t reach all the way around him. It was strange hugging a ghost. It felt slightly clammy, like trying to hug mist. If she squeezed too hard her arms would pass straight through him. “Thank you,” she whispered against his chest. He patted her back with a huge hand.

  Deg jumped down from the box. Tobin lifted him into the carriage next to her.

  “I have to get to Aren,” she said to Tobin. “He’s at the house he took me to. We have to hurry.”

  Raiden was thrown back against the seat as the horses took off. Deg sat across from her. “You shouldn’t have come either,” she told him. “I thought you were afraid of her.”

  The imp shrugged his small shoulders. “Raadin frend.”

  All too soon, the carriage pulled up across the road from the house. In the lamplight, she could see the large black cross painted on the front door. She clenched her hands in her lap. Tobin opened the door and she stepped out. Deg grabbed hold of her skirts. He looked up at her with wide eyes.

  She pulled the fabric out of his hands. She didn’t want to go in either. No one was coming to help her. She was on her own. “I have to go. Stay with Tobin. He’ll keep you safe.” Tobin waited, his massive broadsword strapped across his back over his black greatcoat. If only he wasn’t bound to the carriage, he could have come with her. “Thank you,” she said to the space where his head should have been. She didn’t know if she would see him again; if she would ever see any of her ghosts again, after her grandmother found out that Tobin had disobeyed her.

  She crossed the street and went up to the house. The front door was ajar. She took a deep breath and pushed it open.

  There was a sound from behind her. She managed to stop herself from screaming as she spun around. A man stood in the shadows.

  It was the zombie; her zombie. She pressed a hand to her chest. “What are you doing here?” she whispered.

  He looked at her with an empty expression. His forehead wrinkled as he frowned, trying to remember. “He. Said. Wait.”

  There was a fine mist of water on the zombie’s face and his brown hair was plastered to his head. He must have been standing there for hours. He hadn’t even moved when it had started to rain. She had told Aren to take someone with him and he had brought the zombie.

  “Rest. Now,” he said.

  “Soon,” Raiden said. “I’ll find a necromancer to put you to rest, but first, I have to find Aren.”

  “Find. Aren.”

  “Yes. We have to find Aren.”

  She wasn’t as afraid walking into the house with the zombie behind her, although he was already dead. She flicked the switch on the wall and the electric lights came on. “Aren,” she called softly. She didn’t expect him to answer, but she tried anyway. The house was so quiet; there was only the sound of her breathing. She turned on all the lights as she went from room to room. The sitting room was empty and the dining room. She knew where he would be.

  Raiden pushed open the door to the study. The mirror on the wall showed only her reflection. A foot stuck out from behind the desk. She rushed to Aren and sank down beside him.

  “Aren.” She shook him gently. He was unconscious. Blood matted his fair hair. His hat lay on the floor next to a heavy silver candlestick. She pressed her ear to his chest and was relieved to hear the steady beat of his heart. He was alive.

  She hauled Aren into a sitting position. She tried to drag him, but he was too heavy.

  “Can you pick him up?” she asked the zombie. There was a long pause before the zombie bent down and scooped him up like a child and cradled him in his arms.

  “Quickly,” she said to him as she rose. “We have to get out before she comes.”

  The door of the study slammed shut. Matherson stood by the door. Smiling, he turned the key in the lock. He looked past her, his head tilted to one side. He was watching something in the mirror. Raiden picked up the candlestick from the floor.

  “You brought a friend,” came a voice from behind her - her voice. Raiden slowly turned. Her reflection was wearing the same black ball gown and ruby necklace she had been wearing earlier. The grey imp perched on her shoulder, his tail curled around her neck. “Do you think he can help you?” Raiden didn’t respond. The girl spread out her skirts and twirled around in a circle. “Do you like my dress?”

  “Are you going somewhere?” Raiden asked.

  “I will be soon, once I have the amulet.” She gently petted the imp. “Where is the amulet, Raiden?”

  “I don’t have it.”

  The girl’s expression changed. Her hand paused above the imp’s head. “You really shouldn’t have come then.”

  “Who are you?” Raiden asked. She needed to stall her until her grandmother arrived; that’s if she was even coming.

  “You still don’t know?” The girl laughed.

  Raiden tried again to distract her. “Why did you kill my mother?”

  “I had too. She was going to ruin everything. Just like you.” Raiden ti
ghtened her grip on the candlestick. “I don’t think you can do anything with that,” the girl said, gesturing to the heavy candlestick in Raiden’s hand. “You can’t hurt me or stop me.”

  Raiden moved to stand before the mirror. “I can’t hurt you, but I can stop you.” She drew back the candlestick and smashed it against the mirror. The mirror shattered, sending a shower of fragments over the floor.

  The ghost screamed. He floated to the mirror and stood there staring at the shards. Raiden unlocked the door.

  “Come on,” she shouted to the zombie. He walked slowly to the door. There was an oval mirror in the hallway. She smashed it as well. If they could get to the front door, they would be safe.

  The imp that had been sat on the girl’s shoulder appeared in the middle of the hall. He stood between them and the front door. He held a match in his hand. He grinned as he drew it across the paper, striking a flame, and dropped it onto the carpet. Fire flared up. The zombie stood there unmoving. He would stand there and burn and not notice it.

  “We can still get out,” she said. She pushed him toward the door.

  He walked through the fire. His trousers caught alight, but he carried on, holding Aren above the flames. She gathered up her skirts to follow him, but Matherson suddenly grabbed her arm and pulled her back. He threw her against the wall. The fire was spreading, the flames climbing higher. She tried to get past the ghost, but he kept pushing her back.

  “Please,” she said, struggling to get by, before the fire spread and stopped her escape. The wallpaper was now alight. Through the flames, she could see the zombie staring at her; he’d made it out the front door. The hallway was burning. She couldn’t get out that way now, even if she wanted too. The only way to go now was up.

  She ran up the stairs. The ghost grabbed her foot and pulled her down and she fell to her hands and knees. She kicked out, but her foot passed straight through him. She scrambled up. The grey imp waited at the top of the stairs, grinning maliciously and barring her way. Deg suddenly appeared. He launched himself at the imp. They tumbled down the stairs into the smoke. “Deg!” She turned to go after him, but the ghost was behind her. She ran up the rest of the stairs.

  She ran into the closest room and shut the door behind her. It was the room where she had found Aren, the room where Matherson had died. The mirror that was missing a single piece was gone. Her gaze fell on the vase of dead flowers.

  Matherson emerged through the door. He smiled at her. She backed away from him until her legs bumped into the dressing table.

  If this were a story, she would come into her power now, just as he was about to kill her. She reached for it. She willed it to come. She was a Feralis. They commanded the ghosts of the dead. Please, she thought, please let it come.

  The ghost advanced. She picked up the heavy vase and threw the dead flowers out. She stood her ground as the ghost came closer. She met his eyes. “I may not be an evoker, but I’m still a Feralis. We do not fear the dead. The dead fear us.”

  Matherson’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. She threw the vase at him. He put his hands up to shield himself, but it passed straight through him and shattered. Water sloshed across the floor. The ghost laughed even harder, although she couldn’t hear him. She climbed onto the dressing table and turned on the electric lamp. She pulled off the lampshade and threw the lamp at the ghost. It passed through him and hit the floor at his feet, shattering the light bulb. The electric current hit the puddle of water the ghost was standing in. Sparks shot out. His body shook. His eyes bulged in his head. He opened his mouth as if to scream. She turned her head away and curled up into a ball on the table.

  She looked up. He was gone. A horrible burning smell was the only trace of him that remained. She lay there breathing heavily. She had beaten him. She had actually beaten him and she had done it without the use of magic.

  She didn’t dare get down from the table. The lamp was still lying in the water and there was broken glass and shards of china over the floor. She lay there, too exhausted to move. Smoke wafted through the door. The fire had reached upstairs. She closed her eyes. She had nowhere to go anyway. At least Aren was safe. That was all that mattered.

  There was a tiny square shaving mirror on the wall. A woman’s face slowly appeared. Raiden coughed from the smoke. The woman wore the same black dress her reflection had been wearing earlier, but she wasn’t a girl. She was in her thirties and she had rich brown hair. Raiden frowned. There was something about the woman that was familiar; she had seen that face before. She knew who the lady in the mirror was. It was her last thought before she lost consciousness.

  Chapter Nineteen

  She woke to find herself lying in a four poster bed with a dark blue canopy above her. Green and white floral wallpaper covered the walls. It took a moment for her to recognise her surroundings. She was at the family mansion in London. Xan sat in a leather armchair by the fire, reading. He set his book down and rose.

  “You’re awake,” he said.

  He picked up a glass of water from the bedside table and held it to her parched lips. She sipped it slowly. Her body throbbed. It hurt every time she breathed in. A shape lay on the bed next to her. The thump, thump of a tail told her it was Chester, her clumber spaniel. Xan must have brought him here. With great effort, she managed to lift her arm. He thrust his head under her hand to be stroked.

  “What day is it?” she asked.

  Xan set the glass down. “You’ve been asleep for two days.”

  “Where’s Aren? Is he hurt?”

  “Aren is fine. He just has a sore head. He’s staying with me for the time being.”

  She sank back against the pillows. “You told my grandmother I was asking about the Duke.”

  Xan sat down on the edge of the bed and placed his hand over hers. “I thought I was doing the right thing. Whatever I have done, I have always done it with the intention of keeping you safe. I would never see you hurt, not for anything.”

  She closed her eyes. It was a struggle to keep them open.

  “You should rest now,” Xan said.

  “Wait. I have to find Deg.” She tried to sit up, but her arms wouldn’t support her and she sank back down against the pillows.

  “You’re not going anywhere for the moment. Who is Deg?”

  “He’s an imp. He was at Matherson’s house. He helped me.”

  He tucked the bedcovers around her. “I will find him. Rest now.”

  Unable to resist any longer, she drifted back to sleep.

  When she woke, it was morning. A ghost stepped through the wall. For a moment she thought it was Marielle, but it wasn’t. Annis - a thin, birdlike girl, with black hair and eyes - was her aunt’s maid. She must have been about thirteen when she had died.

  “Where’s Marielle?” Raiden asked as Annis opened the curtains. The ghost shrugged. “Can you fetch me some water?”

  Annis poured water into a glass and held it to Raiden’s lips as Raiden was too weak to hold it herself. The ghost tipped the glass, making Raiden cough and choke on the water. Annis set the glass down on the dressing table, out of her reach. Raiden had forgotten how spiteful Annis could be. Loyal to her aunt, she shared her aunt’s dislike for her.

  Annis disappeared through the wall. Raiden lay back against the pillows. She had only stayed here at the family home in London a handful of times. There was complete silence in the house. The ghosts made no noise. It was like being back in Northumberland. She remembered James Matherson and the expression on his face as he was electrocuted. She shuddered. She tried to put it from her mind. Aren was safe, that was all that mattered.

  She caught sight of herself in the mirror above the dressing table. She thought of the small mirror on the wall in Matherson’s bedroom and the face she had seen. She should have guessed before who the lady in the mirror was; it was so obvious to her now.

  She pushed herself up and swung her legs down from the bed. She winced as her feet hit the carpet; her ankle was swollen and tender
from where she had twisted it. She hobbled over to the dressing table and threw her cloak, which lay on the armchair, over the mirror. It was just an ordinary mirror, but she didn’t feel safe with it uncovered.

  A knock came from the door. Raiden climbed back into bed just as a ghost with an enormous girth entered. Doctor Cartwright was her grandmother’s personal physician. He wore a cream frock coat trimmed with gold braid, silk stockings and a shirt with ruffles of lace at the cuffs. The clothes and his long white wig placed his death in the early 1700’s. He set his bag down on the bed and took out a stethoscope. Raiden sat up so he could examine her. His fleshy hands were cold as he listened to her heart and looked at her throat. Finished with his examination, he shut his bag with a snap and left, no doubt going to report to her grandmother.

  She slipped from the bed and limped over to the window. Valic stood across the road. He looked up and met her eyes. Despite the distant between them, she could feel the intensity of his gaze. She couldn’t look away. She folded her arms on the windowsill. He wore a black top hat and dove grey coat. Other people out in the street walked past him, but no one looked at him directly. It was as if they were somehow oblivious to his presence. She looked down at the ground and frowned. Something was wrong. There was something missing. A lady walked by, her shadow stretched behind her. But where Valic stood, there was nothing. He didn’t have a shadow.

  She remembered what Deegle had said one day in class, “Archdemons can appear human, but they cannot pass for them. They cast no shadow. They were not born of this world so they do not have to follow the laws of this world”.

  A chill ran down her arms. She backed away from the window. Valic couldn’t be an archdemon. It was impossible. But if he was, why was he following her? What did he want? It couldn’t be the amulet; she had seen him before it had come into her possession.