by R. Moses
Chapter One
One Year Later
Kara drew on her stolen parchment furiously, her charcoal-stained fingers rigid. She was sitting on the worn, wooden step of a wagon house, her feet planted down in the dirt and her heart up in her throat.
Her coin-all her worldly fortune-was gone. Completely, utterly vanished, no trace, no word. Just gone, stolen while she was working last night.
Her hopes had left with it.
She heard a soft footstep crunching in the rocky path behind her, accompanied by a discreet cough. Kara hunched over her drawing and ignored the cough.
Cough.
Cough. Shuffle. Cough.
She looked up and saw Icari, his brown face drawn with worry, his blue eyes wide.
She suppressed a sigh. She wanted to deal with her own problems right now, not deal with Icari, no matter how kind his intentions might be. He was her closest friend and one of the few she had trusted with part of the story of her past.
He said, “Hello. Are you well?” His voice was light and lilting, with just the hint of a foreign accent. He spoke her tongue so flawlessly she often forgot he was not from here.
She bent back to her drawing, her long, black hair swinging in her face. The sun was already hot on her head. “I'm fine. Just...broke.”
He sat beside her and reached long fingers to her parchment. “May I?”
She handed him the drawing without comment, not wanting to influence his reaction.
He smiled down at her art. “You drew the carnival. Beautiful.”
“Thank you.” The taste of road grit coated her teeth and she tried to lick it off. You were never quite clean when you earned your coin by traveling with the carnival...
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, then he said, “Mr. Hither wants you on a special assignment.”
Kara nodded and stood as he handed her drawing. She hurried over to her tent and threw the parchment and charcoal in. Then they began walking past the sleeping snakes, their reptile stink sharp in her nostrils. As they drew up to the carnival owner's wagon, she pondered her predicament.
Mr. Hither's 'special' assignments were always dangerous. But they paid so well...so much better than her share of pickpocketing earnings and other little jobs.
And she really, really needed the coin.
They came to his wooden wagon house and she knocked. The door crept back and she ducked under the low frame. It was cold and dark and she shivered. Icari followed her and they stood shoulder to shoulder in the crowded space.
Mr. Hither sat behind a cramped desk piled with ledgers, his black hair shining, his cold eyes calculating. His pet raven perched on a pile of books and regarded their entrance with far too much intellect for a bird. She wondered how the door opened if he was sitting there the whole time. Was it dark magic or...
She chided herself for her overactive imagination. He likely had a petal or a lever hidden behind his desk to open the door. Cheap carny tricks and easy illusion was part of entertaining and building an atmosphere.
Mr. Hither said softly, “Kara. Interested in earning a little coin?”
She nodded. Mr. Hither always made her uncomfortable, but she could not quite figure out why. His voice was quiet, he always paid on time, his manners were always discreet, if a little snide. She just sensed something wrong underneath his cool demeanor. Something...something hard.
“There is an old manor house a quarter of a mile north from our camp. Abandoned. Are you familiar with the place?”
She almost smirked at the obvious answer to this question. Everyone within a hundred leagues knew of the lurking terrors of the manor on the hill. But she bit her retort back and said, “Yes.”
He grinned, and she noticed how his teeth were just a little too long, a shade too sharp. Why had she never seen that before? He asked, “Are you afraid of ghosts?”
She bristled. “No.”
“Excellent.” He pulled open a drawer and held out a bit of yellowing parchment. She looked over it and saw a seal drawn in faded ink. The design was one of circles with a large star in the middle, a typical mage design.
Mr. Hither put the parchment back in his drawer and said, “In the cellar of the manor you will find an altar with that design carved into it. There will be a narrow slot in the center of the star.”
He opened another drawer and a knife appeared in his hand, with runes etched in the blade. “You will insert this blade into the slot and leave it there. I recommend you leave immediately after inserting the knife. The act may cause...disturbances.”
She shrugged and took the knife. “Okay. How much does this pay?”
Mr. Hither raised a thin eyebrow. “Twenty gold coins.”
Kara just stopped herself from gasping. That was an insane amount of money for such a minor task. She said, “I'll do it.” She forced herself to bargain further, to get any extra edge she could. “How about a five coin bonus for early delivery? If I bring you news of the task being done before noon?”
Mr. Hither stared at her and the back of her neck prickled. But she did not drop her gaze. He nodded, then added, “And the night off. You will need it.”
She shivered with excitement at the high stakes. Mr. Hither continued, “And Icari will be coming with you.”
Kara huffed. “I don't need a bodyguard. What are the ghosts of the spooky old manor going to do to me, say boo?”
Mr. Hither gave her another flat stare.
Icari touched her arm. “Spirits can be a lot trickier than you think. Especially demon spirits.”
She turned her full attention to him. “There are demon spirits in that manor?”
No wonder the pay was so good.
Icari nodded.
She turned back to Mr. Hither, who was smirking ever so slightly. He asked, “Not feeling up to the challenge, Kara? Perhaps your...acquaintance, Naomi, might be better suited for the assignment.”
She took the bait and snapped, “I will do it. Naomi would faint the second someone even said ghost.”
Mr. Hither nodded and picked up his quill, then waved his other hand languidly. “Your satchel of supplies is by the door.”
Kara turned and stepped back out into the hot morning, relieved to be out of the cold. Icari grabbed the green satchel and jumped to the ground. He asked, “Anything you want to bring? Extra food? Do you want to change clothes?”
She looked them both over. They were both wearing long-sleeved tunics that might have been white once, brown leather pants and boots. It seemed as good an outfit as any.
“No. Let's just get this over with so we can get paid.”
They began to walk quickly, Kara leading. She almost smacked right into one of the acrobats, Adam, who was practicing a double-pretzel for his stage act. He hooted. “What's the big hurry, Kara? Are the rumors true? Did old man Hither assign you to the manor? What'd he want you and Icky to do up there?”
She ignored his questions and hurried past the circle of tents and wagon houses into the forest. Sweat began to trickle under her tunic, leaving an itchy trail of discomfort. Icari crashed behind, their satchel catching on the branches jutting onto the path. Kara dug out her ever-present knife and hacked them aside, following the faint trail as quickly as she could.
Curious, she asked, “What's in the satchel?”
Icari panted, “Blessed water, regular water, two lanterns, oil. The usual spirit banishing items.” He caught up to her on a wide bit of trail, the blue of his eyes bright in the forest darkness. “Scared? You can wait outside the manor if you want.”
If anyone else but Icari had said that, she would have blown up at the perceived insult that she was too weak to handle the ghosts, but she knew he did not mean it to be insulting. He was really trying to be nice, which she found almost odd. So few people were kind in this harsh world.
She gripped the hilt of her knife and kept slashing a path. The smell of green things with rich sap coated her nostrils. “No, I'm fine. You want to wait outside the manor?�
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He bumped her gently with his shoulder. “No. What could possibly go wrong?”
She bumped back and knocked on a tree. “Nothing. Let's keep hurrying.”
They pushed on, the overgrown path snarling and pulling at them every chance it got. They stepped around a hoary oak tree and saw the manor.
She had forgotten how foreboding it was. She had checked it out a few weeks ago, when the carnival first set up camp. But she had not dared to enter despite her curiosity. It sat against the hill, four stories of quiet menace. Gray stones and black tiles, broken windows and lost dreams.
Kara wondered if she should swallow her pride and let Naomi have this 'assignment' after all.
Her mother's sad face flashed before her eyes, reminding Kara that she had to be strong.
So Kara, her resolve strengthened, kept moving towards the manor. Neither she nor Icari said a word as they picked their way over the jungle that was once a pristine lawn.
The finally stood before the double doors and she felt a nervous flutter in her stomach. The doors were ajar and showed a pitch-black interior. It was a bright, sunny morning and all those enormous windows should have let in lots of light. The place should be gloomy, not pitch-black.
She took a deep breath and slipped in the door, her heart hammering so hard it was a wonder she did not stir every wandering spirit in the manor. A wall of cold hit her in the face the second she entered, and her lungs tingled from the chill of the air. The place smelled of mildew and dust, of rat droppings and dry wood.
Icari stepped in and Kara touched his hand lightly, her other hand still clutching her knife. He wrapped his fingers around hers and squeezed. She blinked, waiting for her eyes to adjust as her sweat cooled to cold dampness on her body. She still could not see anything in the looming space. No shafts of sunlight dappled the floor. The windows were there, the sunlight was outside, but daylight could not enter here.
Which made her question if she should enter here.
Kara whispered, “Icari?”
“Yes?”
“Can you light one of the lanterns?”
He faked a nervous chuckle. “Hold on.” He released her hand very slowly and she heard some shuffling and a muffled clunk. Then the oil lamp flared and she saw the old glory of the manor, sweeping twin staircases leading to double doors. The floor was cracked marble and she glanced up to see a round chandelier with thousands of crystals. She tucked her knife back in her belt. Right now the light seemed a better defense than a small blade.
She had a wave of sadness wash over her dread of the manor. Once this had been a beautiful place full of beautiful people with gorgeous manners. Laughter had swept up those staircases and lovers had swept down. Servants had bustled; Lords and Ladies had lounged about, sipping wine from tall, narrow glasses.
But now the manor was old and cursed and dead, covered in rat droppings and crawling with ghosts.
She wondered if her father's manor would ever look like this. Did all great houses eventually fade to ruin?
A loud clang deep in the manor made her and Icari jump. They held perfectly still and waited as the silence came back. Icari let out a long breath after a moment passed, and steam puffed the air. He whispered, “Probably an animal. Spirits are usually quiet during the day.”
“Even demon spirits?”
“Usually. I think the cellar opening is to the left.” He swung the satchel over his shoulder, adjusted the lamp's wick so that it burned a little brighter, and took her hand again. The warmth was comforting, and if she had to explore a scary old manor, Icari was the best companion she could think of.
They walked towards a door tucked under the left staircase. It led into a room covered with broken mirrors. Every inch of the room rustled with their movement, gleamed with the echo of the lamp light. Kara saw herself over and over again, each version of her cracked.
A corner towards the back of the room rustled, and she halted, her heart starting up again as she squeezed his hand harder than ever. Her stomach clutched back against her ribcage.
A low moan warbled and something lurched in the shadows. “Karrraaaa...”
She did not think so much as react. She pulled on Icari to bolt. She would take another assignment, work other shows...
The shadow groaned, “Kaarrrrraaaaaa...”
She wanted to move and could not, her initial hubris to flee stilled. Icari let go of her hand and began to fumble in his satchel, then he brought out a vial of water. The shadow moved closer, black on black, huge, towering over them, the mirrors reflecting the evil over and over and over again, an old nightmare of wicked things with long teeth.
Icari pulled the cork from the vial with his teeth and splashed water on the approaching spirit. Splatters of water disappeared into the dark.
The spirit cursed a garbled string of words and the voice sounded familiar to her buzzing mind...
Cold hands grabbed Kara's face and covered her eyes. She screamed and kicked back, her terror mounting with this ethereal touch upon her. Her foot landed on something soft and the cold hands let go. A loud squawk echoed throughout the mirrored room. Kara swung around and brought an elbow down on the thing that snuck up on her. She did not know how to do any magic to thwart these evils, but she sure knew how to fight.
“Ow! By the Goddess, Kara! Stop! It's a joke! Just a joke!”
A burst of laughter came from the spirit-haunted corner and Kara hesitated, confused. She squinted in the dim light and saw Naomi on the ground, arms raised in defense, her blonde hair fanned out on the dirty floor, her blue eyes wide. The laughter stopped.
Icari sighed and said, “It would appear that Vayne and Naomi are playing a joke on us.”
Kara turned away from cringing Naomi and saw Vayne emerging from the shadows. His face was wet and his grin huge. He was wearing black leather, as was Naomi, to better blend with the heavy dark.
Her heart, which was already suffering from too much excitement, sped up a few more beats. Her cold cheeks flushed with warmth.
Vayne, he of the legendary strongman act, with bulging muscles, thick black hair, and gorgeous green eyes, was smiling at her. Fluttery little butterflies danced around Kara's ribcage and into her stomach as he kept looking at her. She stuttered, “How did you know we were coming here?”
“Overheard Mr. Hither asking Icari if he knew how to banish spirits,” Naomi said as she sat up. She made a face at Kara. “You didn't have to kick so hard.”
Icari sucked in his breath through clenched teeth as he glared at Vayne. “I wasted half my holy water on you.”
Vayne snorted and said in his deep voice, “Not my fault if you don't know the difference between the living and the dead.”
Naomi asked, “Hither paid for blessed water? This must be a very important mission. What does it go for now, nineteen silvers a vial?”
Icari said coolly, “Twenty seven silvers. The priests keep disappearing, and no one else can bless water.”
“Why do you splash ghosts with water?” She slid over to Vayne as she asked, and laced her fingers with his. A green-eyed monster snarled in Kara's middle, and she soothed the beast by looking away.
Icari said, “Water banishes human spirits back to the ether if you drench them. It takes holy water to do the same with demon spirits. If the priest who blessed the water was strong enough.”
“Yes, but why? It's just water.”
“You would have to understand the fundamentals of how magic works to grasp the reasoning.” Icari, normally so polite and friendly, was definitely angry. His back was stiff, his tone cold.
Kara said, “Time is wasting. We need to go to the cellar.”