Chapter 6
The Aventine ghosts who were able to move physical objects enjoyed playing lawn bowls and croquet.
It wasn’t usually difficult to convince them to undertake a game of one or the other.
And, thus, Mercury was able to arrange for them to do precisely that late the next morning.
He wanted to build on the interest he had begun to see in Mr. Vann the night before and leverage Mrs. Vann’s obsession with ghostly displays.
Lawn bowls was selected, and the Violet Giant was joining in.
He, as it turned out, was able to move things.
The sight of ghosts manipulating objects wouldn’t be as novel to the Vanns as Mercury had hoped.
But having one household ghost who could move things around was not the same as watching lawn bowls undertaken entirely by specters.
Mrs. Vann watched it wide-eyed, flicking her feathered fan as always.
Mr. Vann looked at least a little curious.
But curious enough to be nudged toward making a ghost swap?
He needed them to. Though they didn’t know it, his ghosts needed him to.
He could only assume that, were he thrown into prison for having lived so long in violation of the laws governing orphans, his ghosts would be imprisoned along with him.
As he sat on the back lawn, watching a display he knew well and had often used to his advantage, a new worry occurred to him.
Could ghost swaps be forced? He knew of unscrupulous brokers who managed to undertake a swap even when the ghosts involved were not truly happy with it. There were ways of tiptoeing around the wishes of the ghosts.
What if the same could be done with people?
What if he could be forced to trade ghosts because the heartless people who had run Moor Cross Home for Orphans insisted on it?
The law gave them, for lack of a better word, “ownership” over his ghosts.
What if that meant his ghosts could be taken from him?
Mercury’s eyes fell on Zizzy, sitting on a bench watching the game. Baby Blue was somewhere nearby. Those two had been with him from the beginning and were terrified of the idea of being swapped. He had been promising them his entire life that it would never happen. But what if he couldn’t stop it?
And what would become of the Scholar, Holly Hock, and the Winged Monk? They didn’t like leaving Aventine even temporarily. Wallaby, in the dungeon, also preferred not to see anyone, sometimes not even Mercury. What if they were sent to places where they were unhappy? What if he failed them?
The Scholar had said that Mercury would have to share this burden with someone. But how could he risk that? Once a secret was shared, it was very hard to keep.
Two months ago, his future had seemed bright. Life was going precisely the way he wished. How quickly the foundation beneath him had started to crack.
It was with these difficult thoughts in his mind that his eyes happened upon the Vanns.
And he caught, for the briefest of moments, no more than the length of a breath, Mrs. Vann watching him with a tense expression.
It was something different than unhappy or displeased.
It wasn’t contemplative either. It was unreadable, in part because it disappeared so quickly.
She replaced it with her usual eager smile.
And she waved toward the game going on in front of them.
Perhaps the overcast skies above had brought her spirits low. Or, far more likely than that, his pensive expression may have inspired hers. He needed to do better at maintaining his facade of quietly confident, legendary ghost broker.
He returned her smile with a very calm one of his own, then looked over to where the ghostly game was being played.
The Violet Giant, for such a large ghost, showed he could toss the balls with exacting precision.
Though he seemed to be enjoying the game, he wasn’t so competitive that he was making the others miserable or the game less enjoyable.
He could potentially be a very good addition to the household.
Or a dangerous one.
In the midst of those swirling thoughts, Tacey unexpectedly hurried over from the general direction of Larissa Lodge.
The mere sight of her eased some of his tension.
He breathed more easily. She was smiling broadly, excitement in her eyes.
She managed to nearly bring a smile to his face, something he would have thought impossible after the night he’d passed.
Grateful for her, he rose and moved in her direction. He met her on one of the graveled paths on the edge of the lawn. Though he was tempted, he didn’t take her hand as he’d done the evening before.
“The most unexpected thing happened,” she said, “and I have to tell you about it because I think I may have found an answer to the difficulty we’ve had with my . . . lessons.”
He nodded, eager to hear what she’d discovered.
“I was doing a bit of gardening at Larissa Lodge, and I kept turning around thinking Granny Grey was there. I fully expected her to be and was baffled as to why she wasn’t.
But then I started wondering why I was so convinced she was nearby, and I thought about how you had said that the next time I sensed her before she arrived, I ought to think about how and what that feels like. ”
“And you did?”
“Yes, and I realized that I hadn’t started expecting her until I began trimming the lilacs. Could my connection to her be wrapped in a scent? The scent of lilacs?”
“There’s no reason why it couldn’t be,” he said. “I’ve heard brokers say that they hear the ghost’s voice in their mind, and it’s that voice that they latch onto. A scent would work in very much the same way.”
“I think I found it. I think that’s what it is.” She snatched hold of his hands, bouncing a little with excitement. “Can we try it? Can we practice again?”
“Not while the Vanns are here,” he said, letting himself glance for the briefest of moments in their direction.
“Why not while they’re here? They can certainly be separated from you for an hour or so.”
“I am close to convincing them to consider a trade. I dare not risk that.”
“Is it so very crucial that they trade with you?” she asked. “You don’t seem to be struggling to stay afloat.”
“I’m not, but I’m also not going to thumb my nose at a chance for a profitable trade.”
“Could you spare a few minutes at Larissa Lodge to see if I’m right about the scents?”
It was such a reasonable request. Refusing would understandably confuse her. And yet, he had to. “The Vanns are unlikely to stay more than a few more days. We’ll have ample time for testing your theory after that.”
“But testing it wouldn’t take long,” she insisted.
It wouldn’t. But he didn’t dare be away from the Vanns or the Violet Giant for even so short a period of time. It was too risky. And too much was on the line. Tacey’s future was on the line, though she didn’t know it. He was protecting her too.
“They won’t be here for more than a few days,” he assured her.
She nodded, a less-than-enthusiastic smile on her face. She slipped her hands from his. “I haven’t visited with Zizzy yet today. I think I’ll go sit with her.”
Tacey walked over to the bench where Zizzy was sitting, one not terribly far removed from the Vanns. Frustration, confusion, and exhaustion all swirled inside Mercury as he watched her go.
Mercury wrapped his hand around the iron key he was still carrying in his pocket. At thirteen years old, he’d had confidence enough in himself to do the seemingly impossible and inarguably dangerous. He’d never doubted that he’d done the right thing.
Lately, it felt as though no matter what he did, he was in the wrong.
He slowly made his way back to where the others were sitting. The ghosts were enjoying their game, with those not participating cheering on those who were and discussing the finer points of the game.
“How long have you lived in this area of the country?” Mr. Vann asked Tacey.
“Not for long,” she answered.
“Where did you live before?” As was normal for him, Mr. Vann didn’t sound necessarily friendly in his questions, but didn’t seem truly pointed or threatening either.
“My family has lived in a few different places,” she said.
Mercury understood why she needed to be a bit evasive. She was hiding her identity. Giving too much information might reveal too much.
“You seem very young to be living on your own,” Mr. Vann said.
Mrs. Vann watched Tacey from behind her fan with the tiniest hint of suspicion but also a great deal of curiosity.
“I am fortunate to have some independence,” Tacey said.
“And a kind neighbor,” Mr. Vann added.
Pressing her lips together, Tacey simply nodded. Zizzy scooted a little closer to her. Neither of them looked over at the Vanns. An uncomfortable silence settled among them all.
Zizzy’s distress made sense; she was uneasy around new people. It was one of her Integral traits. But Tacey had always managed to be very friendly and sociable. And, though Mr. Vann had shown himself to be a little grumbly, something in the interaction he’d just had with Tacey was different.
From out among the game of lawn bowls, a rumbling voice broke the silence. “This is proving a very unpredictable game.”
Mercury glanced over his shoulder in that direction. Though the Violet Giant was facing the other ghosts and the game they were playing, Mercury sensed that the mysterious specter was not talking about lawn bowls.
Was the ghost toying with him, then? Mercury eyed the Vanns. Were they all?
He, who prided himself on being unflappable and clever, adaptable and poised, didn’t know what to do next. And that hadn’t happened since his days at the orphanage.
He didn’t like it. Not one bit.