Eclairs, Scares & Haunted Home Repairs

by Erin Johnson

  “I’m sorry.” Misaki hung her head upside down and blinked at us. “I couldn’t resist.” She waved us toward the ladder. “Come on up. I promise—no ghosts up here. It’s actually a huge space.” She waggled her brows. “You might want to call dibs on it for your bedroom.”

  I shook my head. “Not likely.” No way was I living up in the attic. I glanced back at the bedrooms down the hall. “Come on. We should get to work filling holes.”

  “That’s what she said?” Misaki grinned, still upside down, her face reddening.

  Iggy gasped. “You stole my joke!”

  “Come on.” Misaki’s head disappeared and her footsteps clomped overhead. “I’m staying up here, so unless you want to be down that dark hallway all by yourself….” Her voice trailed off.

  I sighed. I definitely did not want that. “Fine.” I slung the lantern loop over my wrist and grabbed hold of a rung. “But then you have to come down with me and help.”

  “Okay.”

  With a growing sinking feeling in my stomach, I climbed up the ladder. This was the opposite of the smart thing to do. Everyone who’d ever seen a horror movie knew you didn’t go into attics.

  At the top, Misaki gave me her hand and helped haul me up. I straightened up and shifted Iggy’s lantern to my other hand, then held him up and looked around. “Oh. Wow.”

  We stood inside one of the peaks of the roof, the space tall and long, running the length of the house. Exposed beams crisscrossed overhead, and trunks and boxes stood stacked against the walls. “You weren’t kidding. This is huge.” I’d been expecting some cramped little crawl space.

  “You can’t be serious about this being your room?” Iggy made a face.

  “Uh, of course not, not after what we’ve seen.”

  He nodded. “Good.”

  I took a few steps down the length of the room, Iggy’s light not even quite reaching the far wall. “Well.” I shrugged and turned to Misaki. “I’ve seen it. Let’s go?”

  She gave me a flat look. “Oh come on. Just a few minutes, then we’ll get to work patching your precious holes.” She nudged me with an elbow. “For real. It’s like immersion therapy. You’ve got to face your fears. I know you’ve seen some things, but those were just tricks. It’s terrible that people have been messing with you guys, but this is your house now.”

  She nodded and gave me a bracing look. “You need to feel safe in it. You can’t go around afraid of what’s above you.”

  I sighed. It made sense. I could imagine moving in, staying on the ground floor and refusing to venture upstairs, afraid of what lurked above in the attic. I gulped. “You’re right.”

  “She is?” Iggy curled his lip.

  I squared my shoulders. “Yeah. There’s nothing up here but a bunch of old boxes and cobwebs.”

  Misaki grinned. “That’s the spirit.” She jerked her head. “Now, come on.”

  We meandered down the long, tall attic by Iggy’s flickering light. My knees quaked as we walked. Despite the sense of Misaki’s words, there was no way I’d be up here without her.

  I glanced over. “You know, I thought you were just messing with me when you wanted us to come up here.”

  She grinned and tipped her head from side to side. “I mean… partly.”

  I rolled my eyes. “But I can see you were trying to help me.” I glanced over at her. She scanned the room, her eyes lingering on a rocking chair we passed. I thought of my conversation with Jun the other day. “I can tell you really care about me and my friends. But sometimes it’s not the most obvious.”

  She whipped her head around and frowned at me. “Well, I can’t have you a getting a big head about it.” She winked.

  “Misaki, I know. But… sometimes people need you to spell it out for them.” I lifted my brows, hoping she’d understand my hint.

  She turned to face me and planted her strong hands on my shoulders. She quirked her full lips to the side. “Imogen Banks, I, Misaki Mori, am your friend and I like you.” She chuckled. “Spelled out enough? Oh.” She gave a faux serious look at Iggy. “And you too, little flame.”

  “Gee. Glad I was an afterthought.”

  The guard chuckled and strolled on. I jogged after her. “Thanks, but… I wasn’t talking about me.”

  Her grin faded a little. “Who were you talking about?”

  I opened my mouth to answer her, but caught my toe on something and stumbled forward. My stomach lurched but I righted myself before tumbling onto my face.

  “You okay?” Misaki put a hand on my shoulder, steadying me.

  I straightened and nodded at her, then turned around, holding Iggy’s lantern higher to see what I’d tripped over. A loose floorboard stuck up higher than the others. I must’ve caught my toe on it.

  I’d half-turned away when something else registered. Something just below the board had glinted in the light of Iggy’s flames. I spun back around and crouched down. “There’s something under here.”

  45

  Cursed

  “Hm?” Misaki, distracted, paced nearby. “Were you talking about Jun? Something seemed a little off with him.”

  I leaned forward and set Iggy’s lantern down, then pried up the board with my thumbs.

  “Is this a good idea?” My flame’s voice had gone high and quiet.

  I gulped. “Probably not. But I’m curious.”

  Misaki’s footsteps sent up little puffs of dust and dirt as she stomped back and forth. It probably sounded like thunder to everyone on the floors below.

  I set the board to the side and scooted Iggy’s lantern closer so I could see down into the dark space below. “See?” I pointed at something white and shiny. “There’s something down there.”

  “Which is probably where it should stay.” Iggy made a face.

  He was probably right. But what if it was another locket, or something similar? A clue as to what happened to Daichi? The space was narrow, and I couldn’t quite make out what I’d seen.

  I steeled myself, wishing I’d thought to wear work gloves, then turned sideways and slid my arm down into the narrow, rectangular space. I reached down and leaned over. My fingers stretched out until I grasped hold of something narrow and hard. I grinned at Iggy. “Got it.”

  “Oh goody.”

  I closed my hand around the object and lifted it. A wave of dizziness rushed over me as I sat up, and I braced a hand against the floor.

  Iggy frowned at me. “You okay?”

  I nodded, blinking. “Yeah. Just got a little light-headed—must’ve come back up too fast.”

  I sat the rest of the way up and held the object up to Iggy to get a better look. Again, my head swam and I blinked to clear my blurry eyes. The object came into focus for a couple of seconds. My eyes widened.

  I held a mass of small bones, lashed into the shape of a cross with red string. A clump of what appeared to be black hair and several human teeth were wound around the center of the cross. “Oh dear sea snakes,” I gasped.

  Misaki paused her pacing and glanced over. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in horror. “Imogen! Where did you find that?”

  Grossed out, I tossed the thing away, but the world swam again, a blur of light and dark. My head reeled, and with a lurch to my stomach, I turned and heaved up my breakfast on the attic floor.

  “Help!” Iggy yelled.

  “Imogen.” I felt cool hands on my cheeks and blinked up into a blurry face. My own felt so hot all of a sudden. My stomach cramped again and I rolled onto my side and retched. There went the rest of my porridge.

  “Help!” Misaki and Iggy shrieked at once.

  The cool hands left my face and the world returned to a blurry collage of dark shapes.

  “Imogen?” Iggy’s voice sounded muffled and far away. “Hang in there, okay? We’re getting you help.” His orange blurry light grew brighter. It hurt my head, which felt like it might explode from pressure. I moaned and pushed my hands against my closed eyes.

  “Where are you goin
g?” Iggy’s voice held a high note of panic.

  Misaki’s footsteps thudded closer. “I grabbed a cloth. We can’t touch it.”

  “Leave it!”

  “No.” Her voice was gruff. “We’ll need it to counter the curse.”

  Curse? I turned my head to ask, “What curse?” but the movement send me reeling and I vomited again. My breath came in short gasps, my lungs tight.

  A deep voice sounded from below as the rungs of the ladder clanged with steps. “What’s wrong?”

  I whimpered. Hank. I’d be okay.

  “She touched a curse. We need to get her to the guesthouse. Now!”

  “We need to call the medic.” Hank’s deep voice was comforting, despite the edge of panic it held.

  “There isn’t time. Jiji will know what to do.”

  The spicy scent of cedar mixed with fresh paint filled my nose, and two cold, strong arms slid under me. “I’ve got you, Imogen.”

  I wanted to tell Hank I knew. I wanted to open my eyes, to see his face, but my body didn’t seem to be cooperating with my mind anymore. I lay there, limp and feverish, as he lifted me slowly and gently. It was still too fast. I threw up again and could tell by the warmth on my front that it’d landed on me this time.

  I couldn’t open my eyes, but the world would probably have been a blur anyway. I heard familiar voices calling out in alarm as I jostled gently in Hank’s arms, my head and limbs bouncing with each sprinting step. Light hit my eyelids. We were outside. And then it faded, back inside again.

  “Jiji!” Hank bellowed. “Rhonda!” I’d never heard him this panicked. My heart raced.

  More footsteps sounded, softer, padded this time.

  I startled as someone peeled my eyelid open. There was bright light, and then darkness again.

  “She’s conscious.” Jiji spoke. “That’s good.”

  “Let me see the curse.” I recognized Rhonda’s slightly stuffed-up voice.

  Misaki spoke a moment later. “She touched it. With her bare hands.”

  “Why’d you let her do that?!” Annie’s outraged voice.

  “Oh no. That’s a strong one if it hit her this hard, this fast.” Rhonda sounded genuinely freaked out. That wasn’t good.

  My head lolled and I opened my mouth to speak. Had anyone grabbed Iggy? He’d be so mad, and scared, if he’d been left behind in the attic. I croaked out a sound, my own voice startling me. It was hoarse and cracked and my throat felt like a hot oven. “Iggy?” I managed to croak.

  “Right here, Imogen. Hang in there, okay? If you die on me, I’ll never forgive you.”

  Die? “I’ll—haunt—you.” I meant it as a joke, but realized it was probably too morbid. Considering I was dying, apparently. I wanted to cry, but all I could manage was a weak whine.

  My body shook, cold, but hot at the same time. All my muscles and bones ached, a headache split my skull, and my stomach seized with cramps. Even my teeth ached.

  A cold hand grasped my own. “You’re safe and you’re being taken care of.” Hank’s voice. Some of the panic in my chest receded. “Just stay with us.” His voice cracked and he spoke again, quieter. “Stay with me.”

  46

  Buried

  “We need to move her to the kitchen.”

  I disagreed with Jiji. We did not need to move me anywhere. I wanted to tell them to just let me lie there and die, but a cool tingle surrounded me and I floated, gently, probably on a cloud of magic.

  “I’ll clean off the table.”

  I grinned. Maple was here. She was probably glad to have an excuse to clean part of Jiji’s messy kitchen. My mouth twitched toward a smile, but my face hurt too badly.

  I felt myself lowered onto a hard wooden surface. I still couldn’t open my aching eyes, but I guessed I was on the prep table in the kitchen.

  Pressure on my hand. “She’s fading quickly.” Hank’s gruff voice.

  I was? I whimpered. I didn’t want to die. Another cramp started in my stomach and wracked through me. I gasped for breath. But maybe death would be more pleasant. Just nothingness. Not all this pain.

  “What can we do?” Yann spoke.

  “Should I wake Francis?” Hank squeezed my hand, his skin nice and cool against my burning flesh.

  Rhonda answered, her voice uncharacteristically tight. “This isn’t something that can be drawn out of her by sucking her blood.”

  “It’s a dark curse. My sister ran into one of these once.” Annie. The bakery mother. I felt comforted that she was here with me too. “We need to get it out of her system.”

  “Ah!” I lurched and cried out in pain, yanking my hand away from Hank’s. My skin had felt hot before, but now it really burned, as if on fire.

  “Her hand!” Hank growled. “It’s covered in boils.”

  Misaki sounded frightened. “It’s where she touched the curse.”

  Misaki scared? Panic pricked the hairs on the back of my neck. I knew I was in trouble if Misaki was panicked.

  “Hank. Get the golden seal balm from the bathroom cabinet. Apply it to her hand.” Jiji cleared her throat as footsteps pounded away and Hank’s comforting presence disappeared. “Maple and Wiley, I want you to prepare a mixture of charcoal from the fireplace, and water—fresh from the well. Now!”

  More footsteps. I peeled an eye open. It stung, and the world was nothing but blurry shapes, some dark and some light. The world spun, and I squeezed my eyes shut again.

  “Granddaughter, get me a black candle from the cellar. Jun, fetch a wooden bowl. Fill it with well water and add a generous spoonful of salt.”

  Footsteps. Rattling. A loud thunk.

  “Everyone else. Join hands around the table.”

  Shadows shifted, feet scuffed.

  “Once we start the chanting,” Jiji murmured, “it must continue. You cannot stop until I say so, understood?”

  “Ya.” Yann’s deep voice boomed.

  “What do we sssay?” Sam whimpered. “We mussst hurry.”

  The world lurched and black splotches appeared behind my eyes.

  Jiji let out a deep breath. “With me now, once you get the hang of it. Snare, snare, tooth and hair, find the light, find the air, untangle, unknot, undo the rot, let go of your hold upon the fair. Snare, snare, tooth and hair—”

  My friends took up the spell, their chanting voices surrounding me, seeming to seep into the little splits and fractures in my aching head.

  “—unknot, undo the rot—”

  “Here. We’ve got everything.” Misaki gasped for breath.

  “—let go of your hold upon the fair. Snare, snare—”

  Jiji broke from the chanting to give her and Jun directions. “Lay the bowl on the table beside her and place the candle inside. Make sure it won’t fall over. Then light the candle. Eh—” Jiji’s voice rose in warning. “You have to duck under their arms—they cannot break the circle.”

  “Sssnare, sssnare—” Sam’s voice and his cute lisp stood out from the others.

  “I’ll light it,” Iggy piped up. Something clunked onto the table beside me.

  “I’ve got the salve.” Hank was back. I wished I could see his face.

  “Put it on her hand,” Jiji commanded.

  Something cool covered my right palm. A wrap tightened around my hand. Some relief from the burning boils.

  “—let go of your hold upon the fair. Snare, snare, tooth and hair—”

  “What now?” Maple squeaked. “We’ve got the charcoal potion.”

  “You must get her to drink it,” Jiji ordered.

  “Really?” I could tell by Wiley’s tone that this wasn’t going to be good. Then again, nothing would be good. My stomach tightened around itself. There was no way I’d be able to keep anything down.

  Apparently Maple was a mind reader. “But—she’s been throwing up. Won’t it make her even sicker?”

  Jiji’s voice came quieter, softer. “That’s the idea.”

  A moment later, a big hand slid under my hair and proppe
d my head up. The world spun, and I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, as if that would help.

  “Imogen.” Hank’s deep voice. “Open your mouth. You need to take some medicine.”

  I groaned.

  “Imogen, please. It’s going to help you,” Maple pleaded. “It will help her? Won’t it?” Her last words came out choked, and she gulped down a sob.

  “Yes.” Jiji’s quiet voice.

  “—untangle, unknot, undo the rot—” The chanting continued around us, hypnotizing.

  I parted my lips, my chin trembling and teeth chattering. There was no way I could take anything. My stomach bucked and twisted at the foul smell as a bowl was held to my lips. I scrunched up my nose and turned my head. Too fast—the world lurched. Wet spilled down my chin.

  “I know, I know.” Hank stroked my clammy forehead. “But you have to drink it. Please.”

  I used the last of my willpower to turn my head forward and force my lips and teeth apart. Cool liquid poured down my throat and dribbled down my chin and neck. I coughed, spitting some of it up. I couldn’t swallow this.

  A small hand slid under my chin and another clamped down over my nose. My eyes shot open in panic. I couldn’t open my mouth and I couldn’t breathe through my nose. I blinked, my eyes aching, my throat burning.

  “What are you doing to her? Stop!” Hank shouted.

  “You stop!” Jiji retorted. “She must swallow this or she’ll die.”

  Die? I forced myself to swallow. The liquid burned my throat on the way down, and as soon as it hit my stomach, I knew it’d be coming right back up again. I let out a high whine, then rolled onto my side and heaved. Nothing came out. The chanting slowed, faltering.

  “You must not stop!” Jiji commanded. “Move the bowl away from her so she doesn’t knock it over.”

  “—find the light, find the air—” The voices of my friends picked up again, stronger, louder.

  A firm hand rubbed my back. “You’re going to be okay.”

  “Is she?” Iggy squeaked.

  My stomach lurched and twisted, and I opened my mouth. Nothing came out but a grunt.