Whisper in the Wind (Mercury Raine #2)

Chapter 1

The ghosts of Aventine Manor were being particularly cooperative of late, which made Mercury Raine, owner of said manor, particularly nervous.

He’d spent his entire life surrounded—at times literally—by ghosts and had never known them to not be up to some sort of mischief.

But, as he was then two weeks into a task that was feeling increasingly impossible, he had no intention of complaining about unexpected tranquility.

Worry about it, certainly. Not trust it in the least, absolutely. But definitely not complain.

“You made ghost brokering sound very simple.” Tacey Wilde—his nearest neighbor and secret trainee—eyed him sidelong as they walked across the back lawn toward the house. “I don’t know whether you misrepresented the complexity or I am particularly wooden headed.”

“Or alternately,” Mercury said, “I am not a very adept teacher.”

“I like this alternate explanation. It takes all the pressure off of me.” She smiled at him.

He maintained his sober expression. “And places all the blame on me.”

“That’s the part I like best,” she insisted.

That broke his sober demeanor. Mercury was not an unhappy person.

Not at all. But he’d found over the past fortnight that keeping expressionless while she tried to make him smile was a surprisingly entertaining addition to their tutoring sessions.

Seeing as the actual tutoring wasn’t going well, it was nice to have something that was.

“I am determined to get the knack of ghost brokering,” Tacey said. “I only hope I can sort it out in time to actually be helpful. You have taken such a risk, after all.”

A stiff breeze tugged at her recently darkened locks.

Tacey—not her actual name—had changed her identity and appearance as a matter of safety.

She had more than one ghostly attachment, which in and of itself wasn’t a bad thing.

Indeed, having any ghosts was a source of invaluable social cachet.

And, for those who undertook the ghost broker’s trade, it was also a source of income.

But having an attachment that was invisible was considered so disreputable that such people were shunned, even by their own family.

One of Tacey’s two attachments was an Invisible. Only she, and now he, knew that.

Her known ghostly attachment, an elderly and decidedly not invisible specter called Granny Grey, floated toward them from the direction of the house.

Though she was Tacey’s ghost, she mingled with Mercury’s.

Twenty-one ghosts wasn’t a noticeably more chaotic number than twenty, he had discovered over the past fortnight. In fact, she was a delightful addition.

“Did you sort out how to locate that . . . thread?” Granny asked Tacey.

“Not yet.” Tacey sighed a little. “It is proving remarkably elusive.”

An understatement. The “thread” tying a person to his or her ghostly attachments was impossible to explain, yet it had to be identified and located, esoteric as it was, for ghosts to be swapped between people.

Ghost brokers facilitated those swaps, known as Transferals.

Mercury hadn’t the first idea how to help Tacey locate the thread tying her to Granny Grey.

Until she could identify threads, she couldn’t release them nor form new ones.

And until she could to that, she couldn’t work as a broker.

“You’ll sort it,” Granny said. “I know you will.”

Tacey shook her head, though a hint of a smile tugged at her lips. “You might be the only person who is that confident in me.”

“I haven’t given up hope,” Mercury said. “Every broker I know describes the process of locating an attachment differently. You will eventually discover the approach that works for you. It simply takes time.”

“How long did it take you?” Tacey asked.

He produced a crooked smile, one filled with equal amounts feigned arrogance and earned confidence. “I’m an exception to that rule. To most rules, really.”

“And do you promise not to toss me out of my little house if it takes more time than you’re hoping?”

“Tossing people out is my favorite thing,” he said solemnly. “Don’t deny me that pleasure.”

Again, she grinned at his pretended earnestness. “I thought ghost croquet was your favorite pastime.”

“Watching ghosts play croquet is a great deal of fun. But evicting a neighbor surpasses even that.” He pretended to be excessively put out. “I suppose I could delay that a bit longer.”

“I appreciate your forbearance,” she said with a laugh.

It was all phrased like a joke, but he knew she was legitimately worried about her future.

That was understandable; she was an unwed lady who’d run away from home and was depending on the generosity of a man she’d only known a few weeks to help her keep hidden one of the most destructive secrets a person could have.

“Baby Blue is hoping you will read him another story,” Granny said to Tacey. “I assured him you wouldn’t forget.”

“Doing so is a highlight of my day.” She picked up her pace toward the house.

Granny Grey remained behind with Mercury. “Tacey was very lonely as a child. She has been lonely as an adult, as well. To have a house full of ghosts who have welcomed her kindly is a greater mercy than you realize.”

“I’m pleased she is happy here.”

Granny eyed him sidelong. Being evaluated by a ghost always felt different than by a person. It went deeper. They seemed to see more, which he didn’t overly appreciate. Mercury held more secrets than he cared to admit. Granny Grey was privy to a closely guarded one.

“Does Tacey know that you extended your invitation to her, not to save her from her mother, but to keep me here?” Granny asked.

“The invitation was extended for both reasons,” Mercury insisted.

“Not equally, though. And she doesn’t even know there is a competing reason.”

He glanced around as they walked on, making certain they really were alone.

“Are you trying to convince me to confess to her that her lifelong ghostly companion somehow knows that I am a now-grown runaway orphan brokering ghosts in violation of the law and your knowledge of such things constitutes such a significant risk of losing everything I have built for myself that I am very nearly desperate to keep you, and by extension her, very nearby?”

Granny shook her head. “I don’t expect you to spill your secrets. I’m only worried about how she’ll feel when she eventually learns the truth of why you extended such generosity.”

“‘When she learns the truth’? Are you planning to tell her?”

“The truth has a way of becoming known. I suspect this truth will as well.”

They weren’t far from the house. Once he was surrounded by his ghosts again, he dared not discuss this precarious topic with Granny.

“Is there still nothing more you can tell me than you already have? Nothing you’ve neglected to share?”

“I know you have given yourself your current name, that you are hiding your origins as an orphan, and that there are other ghosts who also know things about you that could bring the life you’ve built crumbling down around you. That’s the entirety of what I know.”

“That’s plenty.” Even just the fact that he had run away from an orphanage was enough to ruin him. There were laws about orphans with ghosts. He was on the run from all those laws and the consequences of breaking them.

He pushed open the door to the back of the house. Granny simply floated through the wall. When all but one of the residents could pass through walls, doors tended to be neglected. Some of them weren’t opened for months at a time.

And silence tended to be non-existent. Upon stepping inside, Mercury heard sobbing, laughing, and yelling. All at once.

The source of the crying passed by a moment later. Weeping William, one of his ghosts, cried more often than not.

“Anything amiss?” Mercury had found it best to not assume bouts of tears were of no consequence.

Weeping William looked back at him. “It is likely to rain tonight.” The words all but wailed from him.

“This is England; it rains almost every night.”

That set the ghost to crying again as he floated down the corridor. Mercury had taken only a couple of steps when Gary the Green popped his head through a wall.

“Is it possible to convince Weeping William to weep a little less? We are attempting to have a jolly conversation in here.”

“Tearfulness is one of his Integral Traits,” Mercury reminded the annoyed specter. “Nothing will change that.”

Gary the Green sighed. His shoulders likely rose and fell dramatically on the other side of the wall. “I suppose we should simply be glad Signora Bellona isn’t singing.”

“Hush,” Mercury said urgently. “You’ll doom us to an impromptu concert if you aren’t careful.”

Looking none too pleased, Gary the Green slipped back through the wall.

Mercury kept walking, glancing back at Granny Grey. “Are you certain you’re pleased to have joined this motley band of ghosts?”

“I very much enjoy being here.”

For all his bluster, he was proud of the life he’d built. And even though, individually, he sometimes found his ghostly companions a lot to handle, taken as a whole, they were a great deal of fun. And he cared about them.

“Though”—Granny’s mouth twisted to one side—“it is a little unnerving when Captain Capitate pulls his head off.”

“He thinks it is hilarious,” Mercury said as they stepped into his favorite sitting room.

“He also thinks he has a pirate ship waiting for him at a nearby port. His judgement is . . . questionable.”

“But entertaining.”

“Mr. Raine.” Smythe, who had taken on the role of butler at Aventine Manor—by choice, not appointment—floated into the sitting room. “A Mr. and Mrs. Padmore have arrived and are inquiring about the possibility of a trade.”

A new client. Excellent.

“Summon the available ghosts,” Mercury said. “They know their roles.”