Page 46 of How to Woo the Undead

“Evvvvviiiiiiiiil!”

Austin groaned softly, rolling his eyes as he glanced up into the ceiling. Havershum descended into the room over his head. Eyes flashing red and daggers out, he was dead set on Snuffles. Austin huffed as quietly as he could, as to not wake Hyacinth. “Havershum, he’s a bunny.”

“That right there is a carnivorous beast dead set on the destruction of thishooooouuuuuse!” Havershum floated to the other side of Austin, looming just over his shoulder.

“He’s just a bunny that eats meat. We don’t judge Kevin for eating brains,” Austin tutted, reminding his brother in undeath that they were necromancers, not necro-meanies.

“Kevin doesn’t torment those who reside in this house.” Havershum waggled his dagger at Austin threateningly. As much as he wanted to fight with Havershum more about Snuffles—because he did—having an argument over the moral right or wrong of a pet bunny was far more pleasant than what his mind focused on.

Those who reside in this house. Like that ghost in the kitchen.He hadn’t seen a person. Just a collection of parts in shadow that was clung to Hyacinth. He could see shadowy vines of poison ivy protruding from her into the inky abyss of the pantry. Whatever haunted her wasn’t benign. Nor was it one of their regular ghosts. This was a nasty parasite.

“Havershum, have you seen any ghosts recently?” Austin blurted out.

“Yeah,” Havershum scoffed, jabbing his dagger at the opposite corner of the room. The moment Austin looked, Jerold, the old lizard folk who’d died after eating the wrong thing through the gates, flicked his ghostly tongue out at them through the wall. Slowly, the scaley man disappeared back into the house. All the normal house ghosts were just those who lingered, either attracted by Sebastian’s power, like moths to a flame. Or those who didn’t know how to pass on. While they did, once upon a time, try to exorcise most of them, they kept appearing. And as most of them were benign or otherwise docile, they were left to stay. He caught them out of the corner of his eye every once in a while. They get curious every so often and will watch him sew something or linger under furniture just to blink at people.

“No,newghosts.” Austin shook his head, returning his attention to the wraith perched on the bedside table.

“Oh! Oh, you mean like a ghost attached to her, huh? You know I don’t have special eyes like you.” Havershum poked his boney fingers into his empty eye sockets, making shadows in their red glow. Austin snorted, shaking his head. Havershum made little dogs barking in his eyes, casting their backlit shapes onto the duvet. He followed the movement, his gaze focusing on her after a moment, unable to see anything else. His lips curled down and his heart ached once more.

“Austin?” Havershum whispered. “What’s it look like?”

“Wrong,” Austin confessed without thinking. He followed the shadow that Havershum cast over her, replaying the look of the being clung to the side of his flower. It looked…wrong. “I’ve never seen something attached to someone that looked so twisted before.”

“Is that why Smith and Sebastian were yelling earlier? Because the thing haunting her is really bad?”

“They were yelling?” Austin blurted out, returning his attention to Havershum.

“Yeah, Smith was pissed. Sebastian tried calming him down, but they blew up at each other. Melody and Smith went for a hunt; Lady Rosemont took Lord Rosemont to the library to cool off. Something about that serial killer they’ve been looking for?”

Austin jerked to stare at the slumbering Hyacinth and his heart sank.Is her ghost the spirit of the serial killer? No…no that can’t be. That would make Sabine…that would make Hyacinth…

He slid a little further in the bed to pull her close to his chest. Austin glanced back at Havershum who floated closer in worry. Austin whispered, “Havershum, can you keep an eye on her for me too? I think the ghost attached to Hyacinth is the ghost that killed all those people.”

The wraith nodded his head quietly, disappearing into the night. Austin sat in the dark, searching for the ghost. He actually hoped he might find her, see the bringer of death in King’s Fall. But, as he curled up more protectively around Hyacinth, he realized the only thing in the shadows were familiar faces. Ghosts that wove in and out of sight, shadows that normally danced across the walls, magic that flowed around them like air…all things that made Rosemont Manor feel like home.

And none of that included the darkness that was tethered to Hyacinth.

Don’t worry, my flower, we’ll get rid of her. We’ll fix this. I will fix this.

Austin didn’t mean to fall asleep. But he did with his arms tightly wound around her and Snuffled made a nest in the crook of his bent knees.

Austinwokeupalone.He jerked upright in the hazy light of morning, searching around him in a rabid panic. Scrambling out of stiff sheets, he searched all over for the dead woman he’d held so tightly, he should have a Hyacinth-shaped dent in his chest. There were no signs Hyacinth was even there. And as he finally stood still, heart pounding, he came to realize Hyacinth was not there because she didn’t exist. Not yet. No, as he spun around in that tiny space, he was back in the barn again. The one by the ocean. He could hear the crashing of waves against a cliffside. His pocket weighed heavy with Sebastian’s soulstone.

Turning, slowly, he glimpsed at the corpse riddled with holes across the hay. He’d laid out his creator amongst the bales and found they could go no further. Not with Sebastian in that state, nor Austin. He clamped a hand over the stump at his left shoulder. It itched like no other, but all his ghost limbs itched the first day after they were detached. Especially given that the cleric burned it off him. Austin did his best not to dig his fingers into his soggy flesh and lumbered out of the stall they’d taken refuge in. A barn at the cliffside near the ocean sounded a lot better than running through the rain, his maker’s corpse dangling off his shoulder with no way to secure him and defend himself at the same time.

Austin glanced to the left then right. It was a through and through barn, with two massive doors to each side, and wideenough for wagons to be pulled through. The floor was scuffled like it’d been used often, but the dust and desiccated hay meant it wasn’t recently. There were no horses when he stumbled into the building last night. With lightning cracking at their back, and the sky torn open with unending rain, they were disguised. However, Austin figured the morning would not be as lucky. He needed to find victims for his maker and fast or else they would be susceptible to the next, second-rate cleric with a grudge against the undead.

He stumbled out into the sunlight glinting off the ocean, barely over the horizon. The woods around the barn were thicker to the east, but as he stalked around the back of the barn, he saw a town to the west. His stomach gurgled at the smell of smoking meats trickling through the trees. Every step was heavy, dragging his body closer to the village. It was a handful of houses, two of which had holes in the roof and were patched over with hay. A massive pyre burned at the center and Austin loomed at the edge of the trees to try and get a better look.

It wasn’t until he stood behind one of the flimsy, wooden cabins of the village, that he recognized what was cooking. The meat wasn’t pig or cow or anything he would consider eating. Instead, it was people. Piles of people. All tied up to a giant stake at the center and burned.

Austin froze, staring at the horrified skulls of at least 30 people all cooked down to the last inch of their fat. He scanned around the village for any others, but it was abandoned. Quiet except for the crackle of fire devouring wood. With every few moments, something would snap and a piece of one of the victims fell away. His heart lurched as he glanced back at all their screaming mouths.I didn’t hear you at all. How? Who did this!?

Stepping out around the cabin, he tip-toed closer, sure that the culprit for the heinous deaths would spring out any moment.Only, they didn’t. He got all the way to the roaring flames; felt it brush hot air against his cheeks. Austin stared up at the residents of that village and found the symbol he was searching for—Sonmyr. God of the sun. Vengeful. Prideful. No hesitation. His zealots burned heretics. Austin would know that glimmering sun icon anywhere.

“That’s where you came from,” Austin whispered as he turned from the pyre. Even with one arm, he dropped a bucket into the well. Wrapping the rope around his fist a few times, he pulled. And pulled. And pulled till it was full and he could dump it on the fire. While the whole thing didn’t go out in one bucket, a handful of victims were released from the sun god’s judgement. Then he returned to the well. Over and over, he repeated the task. The sun climbed higher, but he went about dousing them until the fire’s last victim went out with a hiss.

The entire time he kept thinking,that’s how we ran into that cleric.The one who killed Octavio and severely wounded Sebastian. Austin only managed to overpower them after they nearly died trying to crack Sebastian’s soulstone.