Read Ghouls, Ghouls, Ghouls Online

Authors: Victoria Laurie

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General

Ghouls, Ghouls, Ghouls (33 page)

BOOK: Ghouls, Ghouls, Ghouls
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But I couldn’t just stay without trying to help her. “I don’t know what to do,” I admitted.
Find the talisman,
said a voice in my head.
Alex made another feeble attempt to sit up, but she failed and her tears of misery and frustration came in earnest. “Give me a minute,” she said. “Just give me a minute, and I’ll walk out of here myself.”
M. J.,
said the voice, and I knew it was Samuel.
If you want to help Alex and Jordan, find the talisman.
I closed my eyes and whispered, “I don’t even know where to
start
looking for it, Samuel!”
“What?” Alex asked.
I opened my eyes and stared down at her. “Heath’s deceased grandfather likes to talk to me sometimes,” I told her. “I think he’s become my unofficial spirit guide.”
“What’s he saying?”
“He says that if I want to help you, I have to find the talisman.”
Between the two of you, you can figure out exactly where to look,
Samuel assured me.
“Maybe Heath’s grandfather can tell us where it is?” Alex asked.
“He says that between the two of us we should be able to figure it out.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
The answer is in your dreams,
Samuel suggested.
And that made me pause.
“What?” she asked.
Turning to her, I said, “When you went looking for the gold, why did you think it was in here?”
Alex squinted up at me. “It was my dream,” she said. “And it made sense. Dunnyvale told me that his gold was buried where his true heart lay. He also told me that I could find the talisman there.”
I smiled, because I knew where she’d thought to look: in the crypt of his first wife. “Meara’s tomb.”
Alex gave a small nod and it looked like it pained her. “Yes.”
“Did you lift the lid to see?”
“I never got a chance. I had a hard time finding it and kept going back to Ranald’s tomb, and that’s when I heard Jordan calling for me.”
We both listened as outside—as if Jordan’s ghost had heard her—he mournfully called for her to help him.
“Please,” she begged, her voice a ragged sob. “Help me move away from that door. I can’t take listening to him anymore.”
I crouched low next to her and told her to keep her eyes closed to help with the dizziness, and then I half lifted, half dragged her well down the long tunnel, settling her in the middle of all the crypts.
“We have to find that talisman,” I said, shining my light up at the inscriptions above the doorways.
Alex lay with her arm slung over her eyes. “If you give me a minute, I’ll try and stand up and help you look.”
I eyed her skeptically. She’d need longer than a minute, of that I was certain. “Maybe I’ll just poke around for a bit,” I suggested before getting up and walking down a little farther, checking each name until I finally found Meara’s tomb. It was small and narrow, barely more than a cubby, and her bones were laid to rest in what looked like a child’s coffin. “I found Meara’s tomb,” I called from the doorway.
Alex tilted her head to the side and looked back at me. Confusion lit her features. “There’s no gold in there,” she said.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. I can’t sense anything but rock and bone in there.”
“You’re dowsing?” I was shocked that she was able to use her abilities even in her condition.
“It comes naturally,” she said. “But yes, even through my throbbing headache I can feel that there’s no gold in there. The tomb opposite you has some, though. I remember being drawn to it the last time I was in here.”
I looked at Ranald’s stone sarcophagus straight across from Meara’s tomb and wondered if he hadn’t had someone bury his gold with him. Remembering the crowbar I’d found next to Alex’s pack, I went into the tomb and found it still lying on the floor. Picking it up, I wedged it into the crevice between the lid and the coffin and heaved.
The stone moved more easily than I would have expected, and I managed to shift it to the side just far enough to shine my light in and look around.
There in the bottom of the sarcophagus lay a skeleton clothed in tattered but elegant textiles, and on his chest was a large gold chain with a beautiful gold coin medallion. I knew without even seeing it up close that it was in fact a piece of Spanish bullion, but that was all the gold this tomb held.
Stepping back out into the tunnel, I asked Alex, “When you came up here four years ago, was this the only tomb where you felt there was gold?”
“Yes.”
I stepped back out into the hallway and eyed the names of Ranald Dunnyvale’s descendants. And then, like a chest full of gold bullion, it hit me, and I knew
exactly
where to find the gold and the talisman. I also knew what had kept the phantom from going back into its home all these years.
Hurrying back to Alex, I squatted down and wrestled with the dangerous mission I was about to undertake. It wasn’t much different from the one I’d proposed earlier, but there was even more at stake now, because Alex was injured and she was counting on me. “I have to go,” I told her.
Her arm came away from her eyes and she reached out to clutch my shirt. “Please, don’t leave me, M. J.!”
“Alex,” I said firmly, peeling her fingers from my clothes and anxious to be on my way. “I promise I won’t be far, and I swear to God I’ll be back as soon as I can, but I need you to be brave and wait here for me. You’re wearing your belt and I’ll give you a few of my canisters to keep you safe, but I have to go.” I pulled off two of the grenades around my waist and stood up.
“Where are you going?”
I pointed my flashlight at the end of the tunnel, where the spiral stairs led up to that small room on the first floor. Already moving away, I said, “I’m going to church.”
Chapter 13
I climbed those stairs quickly, but the closer I got to the top, the more nervous I became. I kept thinking about the power of the phantom when it had attacked me in the room above.
And that made the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stand up on end. I could feel the menacing energy of the phantom lurking somewhere in the castle. I wondered if it would be waiting for me when I pushed through the door.
At the top of the staircase I realized I was panting hard and my heart was beating fast. I was in no shape to walk through that door and face the phantom. I also realized that I’d left six of my spikes down the stairs with Alex, because the ones I’d taped to my sweatshirt were probably right now still on the floor where I left them. “Damn it!” I swore, fear and anxiety building inside of me.
I was about to turn around to go back and retrieve them when a calm Irish voice whispered, “Easy, lass. You’re almost to the prize now.”
I jumped a foot. “Will you not sneak up on me, please?”
He laughed, the bastard. “Apologies,” he said. “I didn’t know you were so jumpy.”
I was about to tell him that I had to go back for my spikes when I thought of another plan, one that just might work. “Lord Dunnyvale, would you please accompany me to the church inside your keep? I could really use your knowledge of the castle as a guide.”
“You’re looking to sneak past the phantom?”
“Yes. Or get as close to the church as possible before it attacks me.”
“Leave it to me,” he said.
“Thank you.” I hesitated and then asked, “Would you also do me a favor and take a peek inside the room behind this panel to see if the phantom’s already in there?”
“A moment,” he said. While I waited, I focused on breathing in the good air, and exhaling out the bad. There was quite a bit of wheezing involved.
“The way is clear, my lady,” Ranald announced.
“Thank God,” I muttered. I pressed on the panel and it swiveled to the side, exposing the creepy room beyond. Tiptoeing inside, I moved to the door, which was closed, and pressed my ear to it. I heard nothing on the other side. Taking a deep breath, I reached for the handle, but Ranald stopped me by whispering, “A moment!” I froze, and felt my heart rate increase. “Steel yourself!” Ranald commanded.
I swallowed hard and inhaled deeply. I thought of all the times I’d faced off against dangerous and angry poltergeists and won. If I’d done it before, I could do it again, right?
Still, as much as I attempted to calm myself, goose bumps along my arms told me that the phantom was approaching. My mind recalled the scariest horror movie I could remember seeing when I was about twelve. Images from that movie began to play across my mind’s eye.
“Calm,” Ranald ordered. “Or you’ll lose the battle before you’ve even begun the fight.”
“Samuel,” I whispered. “Help me!”
I’m here, M. J.,
I heard in my head.
And I won’t leave you.
A wave of calm energy washed over me, and I was immensely grateful. And that was also when I felt something like a pause in the ether out beyond the room I was standing in—the approaching menacing energy stopped for a moment, then began to slowly fade away.
“That’s a lass,” said Ranald. “It’s moving on from the hallway.”
“We need a distraction,” I told the ghost, knowing I’d never get more than five feet down that hallway without alerting the phantom. “How many grounded spirits live here, Lord Dunnyvale?”
There was a pause, then, “Oh, I’d say at least three dozen.”
“Perfect. Will they all listen to you?”
“Of course,” he said confidently. “I’m the lord of the keep, after all.”
“Great. How afraid are they of the phantom?”
“Oh, they’re quite terrified.”
“But they’ll listen to you? Follow an order if you give it?”
“Aye.”
“Then I need you to order them to engage the phantom.”
“All of them?” he asked me.
“Yes. Every last grounded spirit that you can enlist to taunt, tease, distract, or otherwise be a menace to the phantom, just long enough for me to get to that church. That’s all I need.”
Dunnyvale was silent for a moment, considering my request. Finally, he asked, “Do you know how to find your way there from here?”
“No clue whatsoever.”
He chuckled. “I’ll tell you the most direct path, lass, and spare you from having to travel through the middle of my keep. You’ll take the corridor just beyond that door, turn left, follow that hall all the way to the end and through the door outside to the back of the castle. Run along the side for a bit until you see the rear door to the church.”
“Straight, left, straight, through the door, outside, back of the church,” I repeated. “Got it.”
“Excellent,” he said. “Now wait until you hear the commotion before you leave this room. If the phantom enters while I’m gathering the others, dart back down those stairs and you’ll be safe enough.”
I nodded, but I absolutely knew that if I went back down those stairs, I’d never find the courage to come up them again. I had to get to that talisman by going either around the phantom or straight through it.
Ranald left me and I paced the floor in the meantime, steeling my nerves, thinking happy thoughts, and tamping down my anxiety.
Finally, I heard at least a dozen doors slam all throughout the castle. Then I heard a parade of footsteps, catcalls, more doors slamming, and the sound of running horses followed by battle cries. The commotion was amazing, and I had to hand it to Ranald.
I wasted no more time and moved quickly to the door. Taking one deep breath before opening it, I stepped out into the hallway and jogged along to the end. “Left,” I whispered to myself, and darted around the corner. Behind me loud footsteps pounded down a stairwell, followed by a cascade of pots banging together, merry music being played, more doors being slammed, and laughter, deep and boisterous.
I hustled to the end of the next corridor and found the door to the outside as a shriek sounded in my ear. I jumped and felt my heart thump against my chest. “Sorry!” some disembodied voice said next to me before the sound of footsteps ran away.
I took a very deep breath and did my level best to chill out.
But it was too late. The phantom probably had been distracted by all the ghosts running amok in the castle, but the moment it felt my fear, it knew I was in the area.
It came at me fast and furious; I could feel it like a large wave, bearing down on me. “Son of a—” I swore, and bolted through the door to the outside. I ran for all I was worth along the wall, desperate to keep out of the phantom’s reach.
Behind me I heard a snarl and a growl. It was closing in.
My mind flooded with images, and I began to struggle just to see where I was going. “Dunnyvale!” I shouted.
“Help me!”
A chorus of noise erupted all around me. My nostrils filled with the smell of horses, smoked meat, and musk; loud voices called to each other, and then, like a miracle, fully embodied spirits began to appear all around, running alongside me stride for stride. To my right a young boy of about eleven grinned broadly when I looked at him. To my left was a portly man-at-arms, and three soldiers flanked my back. And just ahead, Ranald himself appeared, handsome, tall, and even a little dashing. “To the church!” he cried.
BOOK: Ghouls, Ghouls, Ghouls
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