Raven's Heir | ONC 2021 honourable mention

5 - To the rescue

Sir Guillaume made a show of inspecting my room while I stood on the rug in my oversized sleeping tee, barefoot, arms crossed, tempted to throw the visitor out but unsure of how to achieve it.

"Nice." He stopped at the window, studying the view, and turned back to scrutinise me. "I admit, while alive, I never spent much time in the castle's attic."

Through his translucent form, the waxing moon sent pale light into the room. The ghost's mail shirt gleamed in the eerie illumination, each tiny link outlined in silver, and I took a dizzy step back. "Then why visit now, of all times?" I was tired and not in my best mood for paranormal apparitions and small talk.

"Because I can?" His ectoplasmic grin was smug and his mail-covered, back-lit belly wobbled in suppressed laughter.

"Obviously. Well, thank you for the visit, Monsieur de Corbières, and good night. I'm sure you have more important guests to spook."

"None as attractive as you, my dear. Besides, half are afraid of me and the rest ignore me." He threw up his hands in a dramatic gesture.

"Yes, living humans fear ghosts, those that perceive their presence, anyway. The others—are the lucky ones, they lead a peaceful life."

"Ah, but they miss out on our enlightened company." He sniggered.

"If you insist. What about you?" Stuck chatting with the castle's apparent founder, I could at least try to gather useful information. "Is there a special reason you haunt this place several centuries down the line?"

"Good question, my dear. If there is a valid reason, it eludes me." He twirled his enormous moustache with see-through fingers. "It's easy to get sidetracked with all the fancy new inventions. The letterpress, television, whirlpools. Who cares to be dead and forgotten while the world turns so exciting?"

"So you spend your eternity watching tv and—" I frowned, taken aback. "Why would a ghost enjoy a whirlpool?"

"Ha. Just one word—bubbles. If one day it's your turn to haunt earth, don't forget to try whirlpools."

Pictures of bubbles in chain mail flooded my tired mind. I needed rest and a dose of undisturbed sleep. "Listen, Sir Guillaume, I really enjoy discussing the pleasures of the afterlife with you, but I have to get an early start tomorrow and a puzzle to solve." I realised my mistake too late.

Guillaume's brows formed two bushy arcs. "If you don't mind me asking, what line of work brings an attractive woman like you to my quaint castle?"

I searched my exhausted brain for an answer, but he lifted a hand before I came up with something plausible, his eyes burning like red-hot coals.

"Don't tell me. You're one of the ghost hunters this clown who inherited my estate hired to dispel me." Sir Guillaume's shoulders shook in anger, and his moonlit form dissolved at the edges. "I overheard his phone calls."

I took a deep breath to steady my voice. "Lou isn't targeting you—he never mentioned you and might not even know about you. I take him for the type to suggest you a business deal, spooking on command. No, he wants to get rid of the birds molesting the tourists, says they chase the guests with their pooping antics. Are they your responsibility?"

"What birds?" I was impressed by the advanced acrobatics of his eyebrows.

"Ravens, deceased ones, if my partner is right." Theo had been clear about the species, and I had no reason to doubt him.

The gleam of the ghost's eyes softened, and the brows relaxed. "Oh, those buggers again. Seems my ancestral authority is needed." He puffed out his chest. "Don't go away, I'll be back later. Or, tomorrow night, so you can enjoy your beauty sleep." He sank into the polished pine floorboards but stopped when only his shoulders and head, wearing a cocky smile, remained visible. "Bye, my dear, sweet dreams." With a wink, he disappeared, leaving the faint smell of ozone to keep me company while I slipped under my covers and closed my eyes.