by Erin Johnson
Annie, bringing up the rear, huffed. “Well, I for one am not going to let some ghost stories stop me.” She lifted her thin brows at Hank. “I want that bay window seat I was promised.”
Yann spun to face her. “You are not scared?” He sniffed. “I for da one am… a beet.” He pinched his enormous index finger and thumb together.
“Yeah, psh, me neither.” Wiley frowned and flashed his eyes. “Much.”
Maple gave a weak smile.
Sam sighed, and said more to himself than anyone else, “I jussst want thingsss to go back to normal.”
I glanced over at Hank, but he was lost in thought and hadn’t noticed our poor shifter friend’s distress. Poor Sam. I’d talk to him when we got a moment of downtime.
I folded my arms, and Iggy’s lantern swung. “I don’t know. Iggy and I saw a ghost the other day. But the writing we found this morning? I have to say that seems like someone, a live person, did it.”
“What aboot da holes in da roof?” Yann lifted his bushy brows.
Maple whimpered. “And the rotting wood?”
I bit my lip. “I’m not sure.” I gulped. “And Emi seemed genuinely worried for us. I can’t see why she’d have any ulterior motive to want us out of that house.”
Hank dragged his hands through his dark hair and looked up, leaving it ruffled and sticking out at odd angles. I grinned at him. Even when we were plagued by an angry ghost (or human), I couldn’t help but find him handsome.
He looked around at all of us as we stood to the side of the street. “Like I said, I don’t want anyone to feel unsafe or afraid.” He cleared his throat. “But my opinion is that we shouldn’t let this stop us. Someone doesn’t want us in that house… or someones.” His eyes narrowed. “Yoshi and Yori filed a petition to stop us renovating because they don’t want the competition and then told the council that they’d be taking things into their own hands.” He threw an arm in the general direction of the house. “I think we can guess who’s behind this. I don’t know how they’re doing it, but we’ll find a way to catch them and put a stop to it.”
I let out a breath. When Hank put it that way, it seemed a lot less spooky.
He shrugged. “I don’t know how to explain what Emi experienced, but we just have to address what’s going on now. And I believe it’s the work of two very annoying blowholes.”
I grinned, and even Maple brightened a little. “You really don’t think it’s a… a ghost?”
Hank shook his head. “I really don’t.”
Annie fanned herself, heated from the climb up the hill. “Well, how do we keep them from just destroying everything again?”
Hank grinned. “We’ll put a protection spell on the house tonight before we leave. It’ll keep anyone from getting close to it until we undo the spell tomorrow morning.”
Maple and Wiley smiled at each other. He nodded and threw an arm around my friend. “I’m in. Maple?”
She nodded, and her blonde brows drew together, her expression determined. “I’m in. I don’t want to let those… those blowholes stop us from opening our bakery.”
Annie patted her shoulder. “That’s the spirit, dear.”
Maple scrunched up her face, her eyes narrowed. “Yeah, we’ll rip their throats out if they mess with us again.” She pummeled one fist into her other palm.
“Wow. And I thought I was the extreme one.” Iggy’s eyes widened.
20
A View to Die For
We returned to the house, reenergized. Maple and I worked together to magically paint over the red graffiti inside. When we’d finished, I threw a paint-spattered arm over her shoulders and surveyed the brighter ground floor parlor with satisfaction. “Much better.”
“Yeah,” Iggy chimed. “I bet without all those death threats, the resale value just went way up.”
Jiji came by in the afternoon with Rini, her fluffy white cat, in her arms and Cat, the little black, winged creature frolicking at her feet. Maple and Wiley scooped up their beloved pet and Cat immediately began gumming Wiley’s head, leaving a sticky trail of spit behind.
Iggy curled his lip. “Adorable.”
The sweet older lady, with her short curly hair, took me and Sam out back. “I’ll teach you a wasting spell.”
I lifted a brow. “Sounds a little dark. Is this an unforgiveable curse?”
Sam shot me a puzzled look.
I waved it off. “Nevermind.” Guess we wouldn’t be avada kedavra-ing anyone today.
Jiji threw her head back and laughed. “I don’t know what you’re saying.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle along with her. She was always so cheerful. Having Misaki’s grandma around made the house seem less threatening. “I don’t know what I’m saying either.”
“Oh.” Iggy threw his hands up. “So you finally admit it?”
I rolled my eyes at him.
Jiji handed her fluffy white cat over to Sam, who stroked its head, then rubbed her palms together. “Okay. This is a good spell for weeding.”
I lifted my brows as I gazed out at the huge lot of tangled black brambles. There had to be acres of them. I wasn’t sure these massive thorn bushes counted as “weeds.” I couldn’t help but think of Briar Rabbit and a certain log ride.
I wanted to throw my head back like the family of bunnies and scream, “Doom doom doom doom!” at the sky. I kept that little human joke to myself.
A few ravens dove out of the trees and circled overhead, cawing. I squinted up at the soaring black shapes. Thanks, guys. That really just completed the image in my head.
Jiji faced the vines and closed her eyes, then lifted her sun-spotted hands with their thick knuckles. “Get up, go away. You are crowding out the good. Wither, and die now.”
I flashed my eyes at Sam. “Harsh.”
Jiji opened her eyes and chuckled. “Not you.” She pointed. “The brambles, see?”
A circular patch of the vines, about five feet across, began to writhe and shrivel. Thin plumes of smoke rose and the plants shrank down into themselves until only a pile of wilted stalks remained. My jaw dropped. “Wow.”
Grandma Jiji raised her pointy brows. “Usually it clears a much bigger space.” She patted my shoulder. “You’ve got your work cut out for you. Those vines are tough.”
Sam handed Rini back to the older lady. “Thanksss for teaching usss.” He gulped. “Will you ssstay?”
I looked Sam over. The whites of his eyes were red, as was his nose. Had Sam been crying? My stomach twisted. Poor guy.
Jiji watched him too. “Sure, Sam. I’ll show you two how it’s done.” She nudged his elbow.
His lips quirked toward a smile, but he continued to hang his head, and his glasses slid down his nose.
Jiji frowned. “Do you think you could hold Rini for me?”
Sam lifted his chin, his eyes a little brighter. “Yesss, I’d love to.”
Jiji and I let Sam pet the cat for a while, since it seemed to have brightened his spirits, while we started in on the yard. Behind us, hammering sounded from the roof as Yann re-repaired the holes and the others worked to remove the rotten, graffiti covered siding and replace it all over again.
It took the rest of the afternoon, with the ravens cawing and circling overhead, but we eventually cleared a wide swath all the way to the back of the lot.
As the shadows lengthened and the sun dipped behind the treetops, Jiji, Sam, and I trudged back to the house. Hank and the others had managed to replace a lot of the wood siding and get most of it painted bright white. I grinned as we neared. It looked a lot brighter and happier already.
And with a big stripe of the thorny vines cleared, I could start to imagine a big grassy lawn for a backyard, surrounded by trees. Maybe we could grow a garden on some of it. It could be really nice.
I found Hank and the others done for the day and waiting for us. Hank, face smudged with soot and clothes splattered with white paint, beamed when he saw me. He hopped off the porch and swept me into his arms, di
pping his face for a kiss. He smelled of sweat and paint and grass. I probably smelled like smoke. But I didn’t care. I pulled him tighter against me. “Thanks for rallying the troops today.”
He leaned his forehead against mine. “I love you.”
I bit my lip as I smiled. It got me, butterflies in the stomach and all, every time.
“Still here,” Iggy sniped.
We leaned back and stood side by side, arms around each other, and surveyed the cleared swatch of land. Hank lifted his brows. “You guys got a lot done today. Nice work.”
I grinned at him.
“Yeah,” Iggy added, with false cheer. “And just look at that view! Now we can see all the way back to the overgrown, foreboding cemetery. Not creepy at all.”
I made a face. He was right. Little pinpoints of light danced among the stone grave markers on the other side of the crooked iron fence. The tower of stone snowmen, jizo as Jiji had called them, stared back at us. I shuddered. “So… back to the guesthouse?”
Hank squeezed me against his side and nodded. “I’m starving.”
Now that he mentioned it…. My stomach growled. “Me, too.”
We rejoined our friends, and I was pleased to find Maple in a much more positive mood. “Time for the protection spell,” she reminded us. “We’ve got to keep those no-good blowholes out.”
Wiley, walking behind her to the curb, rubbed her shoulders. “Easy, tiger.”
When we reached the street, we all spun to look at the house.
“Oh!” I hadn’t noticed the two pots of pink rosebushes beside the porch stairs before. “The flowers look great!”
Annie beamed. “Thanks for noticing, dear. Just planted those. Thought they made the place look more welcoming.”
I grinned. They certainly did.
Hank lifted his big hands and closed his eyes. I didn’t see anything, but the hairs on my arms rose and I could sense the crackle of magic in the air. He opened his eyes and nodded, satisfied. “It’s done. That’ll keep anyone from stepping foot on the property until we come back tomorrow.”
I lifted a brow. “What happens if someone tries?”
He grinned. “It’s like running into an invisible brick wall.”
I chuckled. “Is it wrong that I kind of hope the twins try tonight?”
We walked happily down the darkening street back to Jiji’s guesthouse for a well-earned dinner.
21
Rotting
At the break of dawn the next morning, we headed down the quiet, dark street to the new house, in good spirits. Or in as good spirits as we could have when we’d woken up in the dark. I stifled a yawn in the crook of my elbow and plodded along in the chilly morning mist, my eyes half-closed.
“Iggy, I’m just going to take a quick nap while we walk. Tell me if I’m about to run into something.”
“Aw, Imogen,” Iggy crooned. “You know I wouldn’t.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Oh… not good.”
I blinked at my flame’s uncharacteristically serious tone and turned to follow his gaze. Thick mist drifted across the deep corner lot, obscuring part of the house, which sat at the back. But even from here, I could tell something was wrong. Hank broke into a run, and I jogged along behind him, my legs sluggish and heavy.
“Can we all just stop running places?” Annie grumbled from behind.
Wiley and Hank reached the lot first. My guy closed his eyes, electricity crackled in the air as he cleared the protection spell, and then the two of them sprinted across the lot toward the house.
“What’s—going on?” Maple huffed, slightly out of breath. Moisture clouded in the air as she spoke.
I shook my head. “I’m not sure.” I frowned. “But the protection spell was still in place.”
Sam, Maple, and I reached the lot next, followed closely by Yann, then Annie. We stayed on the curb as lights flashed inside the house. I caught glimpses through openings in the boarded windows of Hank and Wiley dashing about inside. Maple and Sam sidled up close on either side of me.
My shoulders slumped as the mist cleared a bit and revealed more of the house. I supposed it was somewhat of a relief that no more graffiti marred the exterior. But all the repaired wood siding hung at crooked angles from the house. The white paint, which my friends had just put on yesterday, peeled in great long strips from the haphazard boards.
I’d lifted my foot to step forward when Iggy made a noise in the back of his throat. “Watch your step.”
I glanced down.
A dead black raven lay at my feet on the curb.
I jumped back and Maple covered her mouth, stifling a squeal.
I gulped. “How did it die?”
“Er.” Yann winced. “Eet prolly heet da inveesible protection spell.”
I sighed. “Yeah. Probably.”
Sam hung his head. “Poor thing.” He sniffled.
Iggy shook his glowing, fiery head. “Dead raven at your curb? That cannot be a good omen.”
I let out a weary sigh.
Maple dug a cleaning rag out of her smock pocket and handed it to me.
I took the rag from her and laid it over the bird. I wasn’t sure what else to do with it though. We couldn’t just leave it there, and it seemed wrong to dump it in the trash pile we had going behind the house. I crouched and scooped it up. “We’ll bury it in the cemetery.” Visions of Stephen King’s Pet Semetery flashed through my head, and I instantly changed my mind. “I mean, under the trees.”
Sam, Maple, and Yann walked with me toward the dense trees at the right side of the property, while Yann and Annie headed toward the house to join Wiley and Hank. She whimpered, and I glanced back over my shoulder. She stood at the porch steps and clicked her tongue. “My poor roses.” A jolt of shock ran through me at the sight of the potted bushes, limp and blackened, as if someone had cast the withering spell over them. Yann squeezed her shoulder.
I gulped and turned, heading toward the trees with my friends. We waded through the gray mist and entered the dark trees, taking just a few steps in among them.
“Caw!”
I glanced up and found several pairs of glinting black eyes watching me from the branches overhead. I gulped. “We’re just trying to lay your friend to rest.” I felt like a crazy person for talking to ravens, but who knew what was magical around here.
“Caw!”
I cocked my head, unsure if that was a “thanks for the respectful burial” caw, or a “stop desecrating our friend’s corpse” caw. I decided to believe it was the former.
Maple, Sam, and I formed a little circle, the raven’s body still bundled in the rag in my hands.
Maple sipped in a breath, then sang quietly, “A hole, please dig—doesn’t need to be big, for the bird’s final rest, his last earthly nest.”
A scoop of dark earth lifted from the ground and formed a pile next to a raven-sized hole. I crouched down and lay the bird in the hollowed-out space, still wrapped in the cloth.
“Caw! Caw!” The branches bounced as more ravens crowded into the trees above our heads.
Sam looked up, his brows pulled close together. “I don’t think they like thisss.”
Sam, Maple, and I scooped the cold, moist dirt on top of the bird with our hands, then lightly tamped it down. I dusted my hands off, then scooped Iggy’s lantern up off the ground.
My flame’s eyes darted around. “Let’s get out of here.”
A tear trickled down Sam’s cheek and he sniffled. I threw an arm around his shoulders as we headed out of the trees toward the house. I knew it was just a bird, but I felt the same way. Its death was sad and cast a somber mood over an already depressing situation. I couldn’t help but feel the dead bird had been a threat… or a warning. Was one of us next?
“Caw!”
Wings flapped loud in my ears and I ducked as a raven dive-bombed me.
I cowered and exchanged a wide-eyed look with Maple.
“Caw!”
Another flew at my head
. My friends and I dashed out of the trees and through the mist toward the house.
“Caw, caw caw!”
More birds picked up the call until the whole patch of forest on the side of the property seemed to echo with their angry cries. The sound chased us up the porch stairs and inside.
22
Raven Rules
The scene inside the house was similar to the exterior. Peeling paint, rotted floorboards, and new patches of mold. Ew. I coughed, choked by the smell. It seemed that nearly all the progress we’d made yesterday had been undone. I breathed into the crook of my arm, the sickly smell of mold overpowering.
Maple clung to my side. “It’s like what happened to Emi. She said the house started falling apart when they lived here too, remember?”
I nodded. I let out a heavy sigh, weary to my bones. Hank paced back and forth across the parlor, his boots scraping the rough wooden floor. “How are they doing this?” He dragged his hands through his hair and turned to face me. “The protection spell was still up when we got here. No one got on the property last night.”
I gulped and dropped my arm from my face. “No one from outside, you mean.”
He groaned. “I don’t want to believe it was a ghost….”
I gave him a sad smile. I didn’t want to either, but I couldn’t think of any other explanation.
“Knock, knock.”
I spun at the sound of the deep voice and grinned, surprised and delighted, to find my brother leaning against the doorway, hands shoved in the pockets of his black (of course) pants.
I lifted a brow as Jun leaned past Horace and poked his head in. He gave a little wave. “Hey.”
Jun seemed to anticipate the question I opened my mouth to ask. “We just happened to show up at the same time. We didn’t—uh—come together.”
He gulped, and as he slid past my brother, his eyes darted toward him. I grinned. Dressed all in black, with that half-lidded look of his, I supposed I would have found him intimidating too if I didn’t know him better. I mean, I still never knew what to expect from him, but the overall sum seemed to work out more in favor of him being good than evil, so I decided to look at the glass as half-full.