The Stolen Ghosts Read online

  “Right, Sarah. I think you have a date with some chocolate. I don’t suppose you have any Maltesers among those?” asked the Managing Director.

  Sarah fumbled among the packets and fished out a bag of the chocolate treats. She tossed it to the Managing Director who caught it in one perfect hand.

  “Don’t look at me like that, Mr Westerby. I happen to be rather partial to these.” The Managing Director winked at Sarah and slipped the bag into her robe.

  Sarah unwrapped a Twix and shovelled both biscuit fingers into her mouth at once. Gulping them down, she looked around at all of the ghosts. The familiar cramping pain caught hold of her stomach, and she dropped to her knees with a yelp. Arthur and Fowlis moved to stand behind her, screening her from view from the rest of the haunters. The Managing Director knelt beside her and placed her soothing hand on Sarah’s forehead.

  Moments passed before Sarah felt strong enough to stand. The Managing Director helped her up and she leaned on Fowlis for support.

  “Congratulations, Sarah. You’re mortal again,” he said. Sadness tinged his congratulatory tone.

  “Fowlis, I want you to take her to the exit. We’ve got to start clearing up this lot,” said the Managing Director.

  The ghosts called out their thanks as Sarah and Fowlis went to the doors. The bats clung to Fowlis’s frock coat and squeaked at Sarah.

  “It seems the bats want to stay here,” said Fowlis.

  “Can they do that?”

  “Yes. They are marginal creatures anyway; they can easily exist on either plane. That is why the little fellow currently sat on the Managing Director’s shoulder was able to locate her. They will be fine here.”

  “Sarah? Before you go, I just want to offer you my heartfelt thanks, and eternal gratitude on behalf of my fellow haunters,” said Arthur.

  Murmurs of agreement rolled around the room from the crowd of ghosts.

  The members of the council nodded and smiled at her as she and Fowlis left the ballroom and entered the atrium beyond. Sarah mentally hugged herself – she was going home.

  Chapter 32

  “I cannot thank you enough for your help, Sarah,” said Fowlis as they walked.

  “That’s okay. I wanted an adventure, and I got one! Besides, at least it hasn’t actually taken up that much time. I’ve learned loads and it gave me something to do over the summer. It all worked out.”

  “It did indeed.”

  “It’s just sad I have to leave the only friends I’ve made since we moved.” Sarah looked at the floor.

  “We’ll still be here. But oh! And I didn’t get the chance to introduce you to Seth.”

  “I met him earlier when I came back from the house,” said Sarah.

  “Ah! I assume Seth changed the mirror linkage?”

  “Yeah, he told me he changed them after Templeton linked the ballroom with my bedroom. He guessed I’d go to the library once I found out who Templeton was, and he was right. He explained a lot of stuff to me; he seems really nice.”

  “Seth is indeed a diamond. I am certainly glad you got the opportunity to meet him while you were here. Was he disappointed you did not bring the book back?”

  “A little, but he knows it’s better off where it is. I’ll hide it somewhere in the house when I get back,” replied Sarah. “I just don’t know how it ended up there in the first place.”

  “Handle managed to find out a little of the history, if you would care to hear it?”

  “Ooh how old is the house?”

  “It was built in the fifteenth century, by Sir Mathius Cransland of Fyrestone. He is indeed a noteworthy name in the ghostly annals. I believe that the house remained in his family for several generations, until the family tree gave out and it passed to a distant cousin in the Irish branch of the family.”

  “Who was that?”

  “Padraig O’Culloch. He was a rather notorious occultist, and at times he was HQ’s greatest ally, while at others he was our most terrible foe. He moved into the house in 1848, where he accrued the impressive supernatural library that you discovered,” replied Fowlis. “When The Ghostlie Manifestoe was split up, it was only natural that HQ would leave the first volume with him for safekeeping.”

  Sarah thought of the hundreds of other books on similar subjects; it was logical to assume that The Ghostlie Manifestoe would hide among them. HQ could never have predicted its presence there. Maybe they’d even forgotten the book was there after he died.

  “Do you think he did any magic in the house?” asked Sarah.

  “Not at all. Padraig was an occultist but a lot of the time the problems he caused were more due to his sense of his own importance, rather than any real talent or ability. He was a fascinating resource on occult lore and history, but when it came to the actual practice of it, he was somewhat lacklustre,” replied Fowlis.

  “Is he a haunter?”

  “No, he is in the Beyond. His last act before death was a somewhat nasty one, so the council gave him the arduous task of counting all of the grains of sand in the Beyond. When he has finished that, then he may be permitted to come to HQ and take up a position either in the archives or as an assistant.” Fowlis licked his lips, as if even just talking about the occultist left a bad taste in his mouth.

  “What is the Beyond?” asked Sarah.

  “I cannot really speak of it, but suffice to say that it is not a particularly pleasant place. No one ever desires any time there. Indeed, we shall have to work hard to secure the release of those haunters sent to the Beyond to make enquiries,” replied Fowlis.

  Sarah looked around and tried to work out which part of HQ they were in. All of the corridors looked the same. None of the stuffed heads above the doors looked back down at her. None of them even moved.

  “Why aren’t the heads moving? Or talking?”

  “HQ’s security has been temporarily suspended following Templeton’s demise. I overheard Abercrochie telling the council that Templeton had overridden their systems, and all they had been able to do was shut off the entire lot. I would imagine that it may take quite some time before order can be restored. As a result, none of the heads have any need to talk, as they have no security orders to obey,” replied Fowlis.

  “So I guess walking out of the back door will be a piece of cake.”

  “Strange expression, but I agree all the same. It may still be some way off. Handle said something about the exit being the furthest part of HQ from the main building, since it is used so infrequently. You may remember that it took some time just to get from the entrance into the main part of HQ.”

  Sarah nodded.

  “We normally enter and leave HQ through the control room, and we have very little use for the traditional entrance and exit. Indeed, few of us even know they exist, unless we discover them by accident, or find we have some need of them. Handle and I will have to keep quiet about their locations, as it would never do to have haunters coming and going as they pleased, without the control of their anchors.”

  “Who set up all of these rules?” asked Sarah.

  “The Managing Director. All of this is a direct result of her abilities, her likes and dislikes, her overwhelming need for order. Of course, she is also bound by a particular set of rules as laid out by the universe, but she has more flexibility than most,” replied Fowlis.

  “Is Arthur really King Arthur of the legends?”

  “Indeed he is. A most honourable chap. He has a very good haunting record too, though he has not won quite as many awards as myself. Occasionally his sense of honour and chivalry prevents him from truly reaching his full potential.”

  “Are people like Stalin or Genghis Khan also haunters?” Sarah shuddered to think of human dictators being allowed to haunt the living, but she couldn’t see them allowing themselves to be assistants either.

  “The most truly evil are banished to the Beyond, lest they continue to wreak their havoc on the mortal plane after death. I am actually surprised Templeton did not recall any of them, but of
course that may have been the next phase of his plan.”

  “Why was he even allowed to be in charge in the first place?” Sarah certainly didn’t think she’d give someone with such a track record any kind of responsibility at all.

  “It seems the Managing Director believed he would be harmless when not in his own world. Indeed, had he not succeeded in locating three of the volumes of The Ghostlie Manifestoe, he certainly would have been. Somehow his proximity to them enabled him to do as he did,” replied Fowlis.

  They rounded a corner and passed into an old section of corridor. The wood-panelled walls gave way to thick, uneven stone, and flickering torches rested in rusted wall brackets. Sarah’s footsteps rang hollow on the paved floor. Fowlis ignored the sudden change in interior décor, so Sarah resolved to do the same.

  “What would have actually happened if Templeton had gotten down to Earth?”

  “Without the regular rules binding the haunters, they could have done anything that they pleased. Mortals are powerless against the dead, and while we normally make it a point not to physically harm the living, with Templeton in control, I dread to think what could have happened. The storm gave you some indication of his power,” replied Fowlis. “The haunters that you saw in the ballroom were by no means his only slaves. It is our job now to find the rest of them. I am surprised that no one ever saw this coming, although I suppose in their own way, the council tried to prevent something like this.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Putting a Fey in charge of anything can be a risky business, especially when that Fey was the former ruler of an entire people, and was exiled for attempting something similar. I suppose the council feared he might attempt something like this, which is why they put him into early retirement, though when a Fey gets it into his head to do something, it is very difficult indeed to dissuade him.”

  The stone-built corridor came to an abrupt end. Sarah’s trainers sank into the plush carpet and she trailed her fingers along the wood panelling on the walls.

  “Have you ever met any actual fairies?”

  “Aside from Templeton, no. Their world is kept separate from ours, although a lot of the rules that govern Faerie also govern the realm of the dead,” replied Fowlis. “I suppose it is to maintain some kind of consistency across the Otherworld.”

  “How many realms are there?” asked Sarah.

  “Quite a few. I forget the actual number. There may be nine, although Seth would be a better person to ask. Many rules, such as not eating the food of a realm if you are not a direct inhabitant, apply to all realms.”

  “What would have happened if I’d made Templeton eat one of my chocolate bars?” asked Sarah.

  “I expect he would have become a Halfling, much as you did when you ate food on this plane.”

  “If he’d gone to my plane and slept, would he then have become mortal?”

  “Hm. That is an interesting question. I confess, I am not entirely sure.” Fowlis stroked his beard. “I think it is possible for a mortal to make the transition from living to dead quite easily as being dead is the ultimate outcome of being alive, although I don’t know if a Fey could ever become mortal. The Fey are bound by an awful lot of rules when they venture onto your plane, so they very rarely make the trip these days.”

  “So fairy stories are real?” She couldn’t remember ever really enjoying fairy stories, and had always found something vaguely sinister about them. She also found it difficult to believe that fairies would do nice things for people for nothing.

  “They are not real, although they do have a basis in fact. Mortals don’t have fairy godmothers, since the Fey are disinclined to grant wishes and help mortals without something in return. It is unlikely, for example, that the fairy godmother gave Cinderella a beautiful gown and coach so that she could attend the ball without Cinderella being expected to make a payment of goods or some such.”

  Sarah smiled. At least her suspicions about fairies were right after all, since all that she thought she knew about ghosts had been proved entirely wrong. Hearing Fowlis talk about Cinderella seemed strange, but then he had explained he liked to keep himself ‘in the know.’ Still, she had no idea how he’d use a Disney princess in a haunting.

  They passed a lone suit of armour, and Sarah cast a suspicious glance at it. She didn’t trust the suits of armour in the house, and she certainly wasn’t about to trust them here. If stuffed heads could talk and they used sphinxes as guard dogs, who knew what suits of armour were for?

  “Tell me, Sarah, why do you keep staring at the armour?”

  “There’s just something really weird about them. I keep expecting them to move.”

  “Why would it do that? It is just an empty suit.”

  “Then why do you keep them?”

  “They are tokens from the mortal world. We keep all kinds of clutter like that, although I confess that I am not entirely sure as to why.”

  “Probably the same reason my mum can never bring herself to get rid of anything. You never know when it’ll come in handy.” Sarah didn’t like to admit that her mother nearly always found a use for everything she kept.

  “What a strange notion! Anyway, if Handle’s directions were correct, then the exit is around this corner.”

  “Do you know where it comes out? Only I’m not sure my phone has any battery left and I don’t fancy wandering around London until I see something I recognise.”

  “Do not worry, Sarah, you will not come out into a part of London that is miles away from where you came in. HQ occupies a wide space on this realm, but on yours, it is contained within the building on Dalrymple Street,” said Fowlis. “I believe the exit comes out of the basement flat below the Literary Society.”

  “The door with the lion knocker?”

  “The very same. On this plane, the lion is a potent symbol of life.”

  “Why?”

  “I do not know, Sarah. I—”

  “Fowlis!”

  Fowlis and Sarah turned around to see Arthur running down the corridor towards them. The oil lamps on the wall flickered as Arthur ran past.

  “Yes, Arthur, what is it?”

  “There’s a problem in Control. Abercrochie urgently needs you to come and help figure it out.”

  “What about me?” asked Sarah.

  “I will see you to the exit first. I owe you that much at least. I am sure Abercrochie will not mind my taking an extra few minutes?” Fowlis raised an eyebrow at Arthur.

  “Oh I’m sure he’ll be fine with it. At least I get to say goodbye to Sarah too.” Arthur winked at Sarah and a blush bloomed in her cheeks. She hoped that her lack of colour as a mortal on this plane meant it wouldn’t show.

  “Well it’s been good meeting you.” Sarah stared at the floor.

  “It has been an honour, and a pleasure, my lady.” Arthur bowed and planted a kiss on the back of her hand. His lips were ice cold and perfectly smooth, and Sarah tried not to shiver. A kiss from the most famous king in all of history and legend should have been an honourable thing, but it felt as if she’d been kissed by a statue. Fowlis rolled his eyes.

  “Sarah, it has truly been exceptional. We cannot thank you enough for your help, but we will be watching over you. You will be safe from us,” said Fowlis.

  “Besides, you’ll see us again one day,” added Arthur.

  “You also have your gift from the Managing Director. It will remind you of us, and it will mean that you may See us on your plane, as well. We shall not be far, should you need us,” said Fowlis.

  “Does it mean I can only see ghosts?”

  “Not at all. It applies to many creatures of the Other Worlds. Sphinxes, mermaids, phoenixes; if you’re lucky, you may even meet a griffin.” Arthur grinned.

  “Wow…I don’t know what to say,” replied Sarah. Where would she need to be to ever see a griffin?

  “Just accept the Gift and go home,” said Fowlis with a smile. “We shall still be here when you get back. And you have those journal
ists to deal with, don’t forget.”

  “Oh. Them. Do you think they’ll still be hanging around?”

  “With any luck, something more interesting will have caught their attention and your spectral infestation will be soon forgotten. Perhaps not as quickly by your dear mother.”

  Sarah smiled. Fowlis stepped forward and wrapped her in a brusque hug. Tears pricked Sarah’s eyes but she forced herself not to cry. This wasn’t goodbye, merely ‘see you later.’

  “Go on, Sarah. Return to your family. I have business to attend to,” said Fowlis. Sarah couldn’t be sure, but she thought Fowlis was struggling to keep his lip from trembling.

  Sarah smiled at them once more and headed around the corner. The wooden floor became black-and-white tiles, and faded sepia prints hung in antique frames on the white-panelled walls. Bunches of violets wilted in clear vases atop mock-Doric columns. At the bottom of the short corridor, a large, imposing black-lacquered door blocked her path. Words and symbols Sarah couldn’t read swarmed across the doorframe, carved into the wood. Were they there to keep intruders out, or ghosts in?

  Sarah laid a hand on the doorknob, took a deep breath and pulled the door inwards. It swung open and sunlight flooded the corridor. Sarah shaded her eyes after the dim light of the corridor. The black door bore a lion doorknocker on the other side and opened out into a small stairwell. Flower boxes hung over the metal railings that stretched along the length of the pavement above her.

  She cast a final look behind her but HQ already faded from view. Deep shadows crept around the corner to hide the corridor. Excitement chased the sadness from her heart and she ran up the stairs.

  Chapter 33

  “Sarah!”

  Sarah’s father perched on the wall surrounding the garden. He leapt to his feet and ran across the road, dropping a Styrofoam cup of cold coffee on the way. Sarah threw open the gate at the top of the stairs and burst into the street. Her father wrapped his arms around her and swept her off her feet.