The Orbs of Tala

09 | This Manor Needs a Housekeeper

It was March and harvest season, but the skies were gloomy that morning. In fact, it seemed angry, pouring heavy rain, and wafting strong winds across the woodland. The creatures that lurked between the trees took to their homes, and those that enjoyed the mud played like children, their laughter mingling with the strong whistles of the wind.

Isla slid the delicate window made of capiz shells to the side, allowing the wind to sashay into the room with tiny sprays of rainwater.

She clucked her tongue with annoyance. Her delicate vintage dress was being attacked too early in the morning. In a matter of seconds, the sheer long sleeves of her dress were sticking to her forearms. So much for fabric made of unicorn tail, she thought.

She stepped back from the window, curious, when she saw a woman standing outside. Her green heels left a wet trace on the hardwood floors of her bedroom as she stepped further back with a frown.

Turning, she found the little boy sitting beside her bed again, looking at her with knowing.

"Do you know her?" she asked him, finally giving the silent treatment a break.

He just smiled. Isla frowned. As far as she knew, ghosts could talk.

"Do you know what I can do to you, kid?"

He just looked at her, as if challenging her.

"Do you know that a single drop of my blood can burn you, extinguish you from this world completely before you even see the light?"

The boy's eyes lit up with fear. But there was also a glint of malice, as if he doubted if she could really do it.

"If you are trying to talk, boy, I'm afraid I don't have all day." She looked around. "I think I have a knife here somewhere. I only need to make a slight cut, really."

"Goddess." His voice was an echo, a sound at the end of a tunnel. "She's a goddess."

"You know who?"

He shook his head.

"Has she been here before?"

Again, he shook his head.

"That was easy, wasn't it?" Isla asked, turning to the door. "Be a good boy, Jeremiah."

She heard him snicker before the door shut close.

Lola was already waiting for her by the second landing, hair fuchsia, face as bright as the sun that was not shining outside. "Someone's at the gates," Lola said, phone in hand. "The house doesn't recognize her. She's a—"

"Goddess. Jeremiah told me." She looked at her sister's pink PJs. "Go and change. I might need you. Prepare my knives."

"Your knives?"

"The one in the chest under my bed."

"But—"

"I'll try my best not to find any reason to use them." She turned to the stairs. "And I haven't had breakfast yet."

"Cris already left."

"Where's Tien?"

"Out there guarding the door, I guess?" The wind howled outside. "You think she's doing all this?"

"I'm not sure." Running a hand through her updo, Isla descended the stairs. "Don't come down. The walls will tell you if I need you."

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Tien walked through the open main doorway.

"What does she want?"

"She wants to talk to the manager of the Tree House."

She frowned. "Tell her to go to the Tree House."