Chapter 41

"Y ou cost me everything!" The ghost roared through the dining room, making the windows shake.

Scarlet swung her blades to hug her wrists, cradling the handle between a finger and thumb. The sleek metal of the blades gleamed against her tanned skin as she held up her hands, palms out. "Now wait a minute, I wasn't responsible for the king's death."

"You might as well have been! You heard him that day. If you'd just killed Eirwyn like he'd ordered, none of this would've happened."

Scarlet's mind raced with possibilities. She needed to find a way to reason with Bella before things escalated further. She couldn't let her hurt Wulfric or anyone else, if they were able to to bring her back to Knox and Eirwyn.

But how could she reason with someone who was already dead?

Scarlet waved her hands wide and kept her voice even, trying to de-escalate the situation while convincing the woman to come with her. "Fucking hells, Bella, do you even hear yourself right now? This was Eirwyn we're talking about. She was your friend! She was always at your tavern, helping serve people and cleaning up."

Bella cupped her round cheeks, her face crumbling as tears burst from her eyes. "I know!" She wailed as the tears fell, "My head knows that! It's illogical to be so mad and to have wished she would've just died."

Scarlet scoffed. "But your head was turned by the king's manipulating ways. He twisted you so much that you're still siding with him, six months later!"

Bella's hands fell limply to her sides, but the tears kept falling silently. "Has it been that long? I—I hadn't realized."

The weight of Bella's struggles seemed to press down on her, making her appear smaller and more fragile than Scarlet had ever seen her. A wave of compassion washed over Scarlet, mingling with a fierce protectiveness. She longed to wrap Bella in her arms, to shield her from the cruelties of the world that had beaten her down.

Bella rubbed her forehead and sighed. Then her big brown eyes welled with more tears. "By the light, I'm sorry. What's your name again? I—my head's a mess right now, sorry."

Scarlet knew how difficult it was to become a different being than before, to lose some of her humanity and be made fun of for it. How had Bella managed becoming a ghost in this big castle alone? How long had she been this way?

Scarlet lowered her daggers. "I'm Scarlet, head Hunter of the Feral Forest. Look, I know you're upset right now. It must be difficult being a ghost."

Bella swiped at her tears. "You have no idea how difficult."

Scarlet's eyes narrowed, and she waved to her head. "I can imagine. Do you see these horns? These ears? This nose? You're not the only one who's been changed. There are many others, possibly even thousands, like us. Why don't you come with me? We'll work together to reverse the curse and regain some sense of normalcy."

Bella's tears ran faster and she gripped her yellow skirt tightly. It shimmered in the fading light as she shook her head. "No, I'm sorry, I can't."

Scarlet's jaw clenched, a hot flush rising up her neck as frustration mounted. "What do you mean, you can't?"

Bella wiped furiously at her cheek. "I mean just that. I don't know how to reverse the curse. I've tried every day. You'll never know what I had to do to reverse it, but—"

"What you had to do? Do you know what I've had to endure?" Her voice rose, and she stepped forward. "These horns grew to fourteen points and a spread so wide, it hurt to walk and stay upright for more than an hour. It took weeks to build the muscles in my neck and shoulders so I could even walk around the village."

Scarlet felt her anger rising, hot and fierce in her chest. She carefully put her daggers in their sheaths, struggling to control the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. Bella twisted her skirt and shifted back and forth on her feet, frown growing deeper.

"And the pain," Scarlet continued, her voice cracking as she paced to the end of the dining table and back to the door. "Gods, the pain. Every time they grew, it felt like my skull was being split open. I'd wake up screaming, my pillow soaked with blood."

"Oh you poor thing," Bella murmured softly. Scarlet didn't stop pacing, just raised her hand and pointed at the ghost.

"You have no idea what it's been like," Scarlet spat, her eyes flashing dangerously. "The stares, the whispers, the fear in people's eyes when they look at me. Do you know what it's like to be treated like a monster in your own village?"

Bella bit her lip and then said, "And I'm sorry for that, I am—"

"You're sorry?" Scarlet roared, her hands going wide. "You're sorry! Well, sorry doesn't fix the fucking problem, does it? You're going to reverse this or so help me gods, you'll die trying."

Bella laughed, "Die? Oh that's funny, considering I'm already a ghost."

Scarlet snapped. She lunged at Bella, dagger swiping up. It was like cutting through smoke, and wholly ineffective. The only thing it served was to make Bella panic. She threw up her hands, and the chairs in the dining room morphed.

Their legs grew longer, and the arm rests popped off to form arms with heavy wooden fists. They marched on Scarlet, and she slid along the dining room wall back toward the kitchen door. The buffet table drawers flew open and forks and spoons flew out, landing on the chairs and standing upright.

Scarlet had never felt a sense of menace coming from silverware before, yet she backed up, her breath catching in her throat. The empty jars and bowls on the table shivered and wobbled toward her. Even the buffet table shook in warning. Scarlet's heart raced as she backed toward the door.

Bella shook her head, "Oh gods, I'm sorry, so sorry." Tears streaming down her face, she turned and fled through the door on the opposite side of the room.

The chairs and silverware lunged toward Scarlet, and she slammed her shoulder against the kitchen door, but it wouldn't budge. Frustrated, she peered behind her into the small window. A row of stools barricaded the entrance, each one with several sharp knives standing upright on them.

With a low growl, Scarlet turned her back on the door and faced the more immediate threat of the chairs, forks, and spoons. She lunged forward and grabbed hold of the closest chair, lifting it and hurling it to the side. The wooden chair shattered on impact, sending shards flying in all directions.

But there were more marching toward her. With a flurry of movement, Scarlet dodged a flying fork aimed at her head and grabbed another chair. She swung it with all her might at the oncoming chair army. More stools and chairs broke in half, the sound of splintering wood filling the air.

Still they kept coming, relentless in their attack. The chairs bumped into each other but the forks and spoons flew through the air. She reached for another chair, but when she turned away from the door, it opened a crack, allowing the stools to push inside.

Trapped between the chairs and the stools, she leaped onto the seat of one, kicking the utensils as a barrage of knives flew towards her. She used part of a chair to block as many as she could, but the knicks and slashes—tiny thought they were—hurt like hell.

Dodging and weaving on the backs of chairs, Scarlet picked up one and hurled it towards the door, shattering stools and several of the attacking utensils. But more were coming, closing in on her. She desperately wished Wulfric was here with her. Fighting with him side-by-side was so much better than doing this alone.

Scarlet took a deep breath and lashed out at everything in her path, determined to break free from this deadly trap and find him. She gritted her teeth and reached for the nearest animated chair. The buffet table drawers flew open and napkins swirled through the air straight at her. They wrapped around her arms, hands, legs, and neck.

Clawing at the one on her neck, her vision turning splotchy as it choked her. Her nails shifted into Growler claws, and finally she began to shred the fiendish napkins.

Her reflexes sharpened with the partial shift, and she caught the next fork as it sailed toward her. She threw it at the wall, pinning a napkin. One down, and a hundred to go. Hopefully the chairs and stools lasted long enough to be used against the army of silverware. With every movement, she prayed to the gods that Wulfric wasn't facing a similar fight.

Bella fled up the stairs, her feet not touching the ground although she still ran like she had a body. Try as she might, she just did not like floating or going through walls. She stumbled on a landing and collapsed to the floor, drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them.

She swiped at her cheeks, her chest tight as anger and grief swirled within her, threatening to burst. Her magic was so volatile the past few months of being trapped here. And it wasn't Scarlet's fault, she knew that. She may not have a brain or a body, but she wasn't stupid.

It was the mirror's fault. But everything in the past six months? The pain of the two servants who had been left behind in the castle? The trans-mutated cat-table and the horse-pitchfork?

Those were all her fault. She rocked on the marble floor, holding her knees. She'd made so many mistakes in the past year, starting with trusting Gastone after years of warnings from Eirwyn. Eirwyn had been her friend, regardless of how many awful chores Bella had given her in those early years. Not for the first time, she wondered if Eirwyn had escaped the curse blast.

That stupid curse blast. Light faded through window as the sun set. She couldn't see out from this angle on the floor, but there was nothing to see. Nothing but rubble lay between the castle and the forest now, just a desolate, lonely place where she'd been alone for months.

So alone except for the shadow monster that kept her trapped here. How had Scarlet gotten through it?

Poor Scarlet, battling her chair army. If she could just control her emotions, maybe her magic would be easier to control too.

A clattering behind her made her glance at the stairs down to the lower level. A fork and spoon jumped up each stair.

"Gus, Jaq, you didn't have to follow me," she said softly, picking them up and crossing her legs to hold them on her lap.

That in itself didn't make sense. She was a spirit, incorporeal. But somehow she could interact with those things she'd animated. Nothing else, though. She couldn't even pick up books in the library unless she animated them, and that risked changing the contents of the books themselves. If she did that, the information inside would be useless, so she'd long since stopped trying.

She slipped into her room and ran to the pot by the window where the rose lay in full bloom. There wasn't much time left, especially now the servants were gone. She'd had to animate the dresser and break the window just to let water in so it wouldn't die faster.

But every day, she felt her spirit growing more chaotic and volatile. Her emotions were growing out of control and her magic was unpredictable—which was why Gus and Jaq's animation change seemed to be permanent. They even had personalities and a semi-language of clicks and tings. They clicked at her from her lap, and she pulled them out with a frown.

"Yes, I know, but she's a Hunter. Surely she can handle a few chairs. She'll be alright."

The metal tongues of the fork clinked together, and she sighed. "Fine, I'll go stop the spell."

With one last look at her rose, she turned and went down the stairs. It should be fine now. She felt much more in control. Perhaps she just needed more conversation. Perhaps she'd just been so long with no outside interaction that she was out of practice.

Yes, she just needed to remember her humanity and act like the queen she was now.

She passed the library on the way to the dining room, but saw a light glowing from inside. She frowned and stepped inside.

A hairy man stood flipping through the books she'd been studying in one corner of the room. She walked around him, keeping him at a distance but drawing inexplicably closer. Her movement must have alerted him to her presence, because he looked up.

Golden eyes, heavy brows, firm jaw, crooked nose. Wolf ears poked through his black and silvery mane. The way he hunched his shoulders and held the book, holding it close and tilting his head just so…

She blinked as the book dropped from his hands, and he turned to face her fully. The light from the lantern caught his features, and she gasped.

Magic flared around her, and bookshelves rattled on the wall. Books flew off the shelves. Shelves flew off the cases, and cases flew off the wall, crashing everywhere.

The man jumped back, but she started screaming. "You're dead! You're dead! You left me and died. Ten hellish years of running that godforsaken tavern by myself because you left."

Another bookcase slammed down, barely missing him. He stumbled on the step to the circular staircase, his eyes wide and glowing.

"Trix? You—you're here?"

"Oh gods," she cried, tears burning down her cheeks yet again. His voice was like a stab through the heart. How many times had she thought she'd heard it in her dreams? How many times had she asked herself, " What would Da do in this situation? " Only to be reminded that she was so utterly alone.

A book flew at his head, and she fisted her hands as she tried to control the magic. He dodged it and stepped over the scattering of papers and books toward her.

Her heart raced as she panicked. No, she couldn't use magic on the books. The words would get mixed up, and all that knowledge would be lost forever. Just like Da was.

Her hands flew up, magic flaring out as she struggled to contain it. She cried out, staring at him and the destruction swirling around her favorite room. She had to leave. It was the only way to protect the books. And her father.

She turned on her heel and fled back into the hallway and up the stairs.