Chapter 25 #2
The door was heavy, made of thick heartwood. But nothing magical happened when I pulled it open. No sparks or odd lights, no slithering sensations. I was mildly relieved not to have broken some kind of seal—at least, not that I could tell. I raised my lantern and peered alongside Nin.
It was larger than the other rooms, but it wasn’t stacked with barrels of food and crates of bottles. Long, heavy worktables stretched across the middle of the floor. More tables against the wall. A massive hearth outfitted with iron cooking tools, a gridiron, and hooks for hanging pots.
“It’s a summer kitchen,” I said as my gaze moved up the fireplace. “Must be a chimney sticking out of the ground somewhere above us.”
“Hmm… Odd place to put a magic spell. And nothing in my collected memories from the Voss parents indicated that they had magical talent or were associated with anyone who did. So the symbol on the door was likely done recently.”
“By whoever is currently occupying Charles Voss’s body.”
Nin nodded, eyes wary. But I glanced around the room and saw nothing. Nothing but cooking pans, long strings of garlic bulbs, and—
There!
Blinking eyes.
In a dark corner between the hearth and a tall cupboard. Someone was hiding.
I stood stock-still for several moments, watching those eyes. Then I blindly reached for Nin’s arm and tugged his jacket sleeve in case he hadn’t noticed…
“Ghost,” Nin murmured.
And he was right. No light reflected in these eyes. Not alive.
Nin called out, “Who are you?”
“We mean you no harm,” I said quickly. “Maybe we can even help you?”
At first, there was no response. No movement.
No anything. Then, very slowly, a young woman emerged from the shadowy corner.
Tall and a little muscular, she stepped forward in well-fitting riding gear that was torn and smudged with dirt.
Messy blond hair had come undone from its pins and hung loose around her shoulders.
She was quite striking, and I instantly recognized her.
After all, I saw her painting every day.
“Agnes Voss,” I whispered as chills ran down my back.
“Who are you people?” she demanded in a crisp, educated accent. “You speak English… You’re not with them?”
I set the lantern on a table between us. “Who would that be, ma’am?”
She shook her head rapidly, eyes darting around the room like a caged animal. She was terrified.
“Why are you down here, Agnes Voss?” Nin asked formally. “Speak true.”
The ghost wouldn’t stop scanning the room. She seemed to have dismissed us as inconsequential and was busy searching for someone more important. “They might return. Did you see them?”
“Tell us what they look like,” I suggested. “Tell us exactly what happened.”
Agnes rubbed the back of her hand across her nose and peered around us; then a little soberness darkened her eyes.
“It happened so fast. It was dusk, and I was returning to the manor after hunting pheasant, riding my new mare around the red maple woods. That’s when I saw them.
I thought it was birds falling out of the sky.
But the closer they came…” She shivered violently.
“What was it?” I asked.
“I felt the ground tremble when they landed. My mare got spooked and nearly bucked me off. I tried to calm her down, but the man took out a rifle and shot her in the flank. I was thrown. The pain was awful,” she said, remembering and rubbing her hip.
“I dragged myself into the woods and hid until nightfall. Then I made a break for the house, but their little rodent of a servant spotted me.”
Was she talking about Hoffmann?
“So after that, I ran to the first safe place I could find,” she said, “and that’s why I’m here.”
She was more distraught than any other ghost I’d ever encountered, and not making a whole lot of sense. Whenever Bethany got this worked up, she usually vanished. I didn’t want that to happen now.
“What did they look like, these people who fell out of the sky?”
“A couple of decrepit old foreigners and their servant. European, maybe? They spoke gibberish. And they’re probably still inside the house—you must help me, I beg you. You must find my brother. He isn’t as strong as I am, and he needs protecting. He’s sick with consumption. Please.”
“Um…” My eyes darted to Nin’s. I wasn’t sure telling this ghost about the current state of her brother’s body was such a good idea.
Agnes leaned across the table with a fierce look on her face. “Listen to me. If you’ll help me ensure my brother’s safety from this gang of bandits, I’ll reward you handsomely—more money than you’ll need in an entire lifetime.”
“Agnes,” I said.
But she shook her head. “Please, I’m begging. I know where he’ll be hiding, in my private rooms. That’s where he goes whenever he’s scared. Please, I beg you.”
I’d never seen any rooms that had once belonged to Agnes. How had I never questioned that? I guess I’d assumed that they’d been cleared out and were being used for something else, but that didn’t make any sense now.
A tremor of excitement went through me. “Agnes, where are your private rooms?”
“There’s a ballroom in the western wing of the first floor. My rooms are nearby.”
Aha! Wait. There was a western wing…? My heart skipped a beat. I glanced at Nin, but he seemed lost in thought, so I just asked Agnes, “How do we get there from the grand staircase? You know, where the two statues are?”
She gave me a look of confusion. “Just who are you people?”
Wouldn’t she be surprised.
“The master is waking,” Nin said quickly. “I have to go. Get out of here, Molly.”
Panic set in.
“Wait!” I tried to grip his arm, but he vanished. “Ugh. I really hate it when you do that!”
And he wasn’t the only one who was gone. I swung back to talk to Agnes, and she was no longer there. No! I picked up the lantern and swung it around the old kitchen. Nothing. Not in the corner, not anywhere. “Dammit!”
If she was like Bethany, she might just be “hiding.” But I couldn’t stick around and risk being spotted by the master. I’d have to come back later.
“I was so close!” I whispered to no one as I fled back through the corridor and up the garden stairs.
All I had to do was find Agnes’s rooms. And hopefully Charles’s ghost.
Maybe he could tell us what had fallen out of the sky.