Sorcerers, Spirits, and Ships

by Katherine Gilbert

  “Compulsion” wasn’t the right word, as there was nothing to strip away the will in the spell.

  . . . suggestion to everyone in this room to tell what they know.

  Think Miss Janeway’s already been in to breakfast? Armand wondered.

  The woman had left them to go find Detective Chamberlin hours ago, but she had probably understood what they would all be doing here.

  Annabella nodded very slightly. I also think Miriam really wants to tell people about it. I don’t think she enjoys being alone.

  But it wasn’t the sort of thing which anyone would usually wander up to tell total strangers.

  The spell continued to work, as Miriam told them about her unpleasant, but thankfully brief, second marriage as well as a very loving relationship she’d been in with both a man and a woman for many years till they’d died over the past couple of decades.

  Did they have a term for “thruple” in the 1950s? Annabella wondered.

  I think our new friend Miriam is a bit wilder than she seems, he smiled.

  I suppose “sweet little old lady” covers a multitude of eccentricities.

  Which left a lot of questions open about Miss Janeway, too.

  They ate a hearty breakfast, as Miriam told them about her recently deceased partners, who both, quite honestly, sounded like a hoot. The three of them must have been quite the sight together.

  Eventually, Miriam’s memories ran out, but she left breakfast smiling. As she did, Armand looked over to his partner, one eyebrow raised.

  It’s just a deflection spell for anything bad, Annabella defended herself for the small sprinkling of magic she’d left on the woman. If her children are some of the ghosts on board, I don’t want them to be used to harm her.

  She shuddered slightly.

  And I DEFINITELY don’t want her to get her heart ripped out.

  Kitty was watching the space where the woman had been, even after she walked away. Annabella watched her take a deep breath and wondered whether she were reminding herself to use human language.

  A moment later, Kitty said, “I think the children near the pool are hers. They miss their mommy, and they’re angry she’s gone.”

  This didn’t really go along with the various stories their guide had told them, but she had obviously only been keeping to the script.

  “Given what Hubert found about the war bride trips on the computer last night, I didn’t think the swimming pool was in use during them,” Annabella noted.

  Armand looked at her curiously, and she remembered that he hadn’t really been paying attention during their tour.

  “Mostly, the children are heard giggling or their wet footprints are seen. There weren’t any tales given about them being angry.”

  Armand sighed. “There weren’t any tales about people getting their hearts ripped out, either, but that appears to be happening.”

  He shook his head.

  “Whatever is going on now, I suspect the ghosts aren’t the only ones behind it.”

  Chapter 11

  Armand

  It was about an hour after their rather long breakfast when they met back with Miss Janeway in Armand and Annabella’s stateroom. While they wanted to start making the rounds of the ship and its ghosts, they first needed to know if she’d learned anything further about this latest murder.

  Armand was holding Annabella’s hand again, had barely let it go for anything except breakfast since they’d finally woken her last night. While he knew that his worry was annoying her slightly, she had silently agreed to keep him sane and wasn’t letting go.

  Miss Janeway had apparently just lost her detective companion and had magicked up some tea for their cabin. As much as Armand had barely finished digesting breakfast and wanted to get to the point—hoping that any information might get them closer to protecting Annabella—he didn’t make a fuss. Annabella looked far too happy with her tea for him to be so churlish. Even Kitty, who seemed to be up to about half tea and half cream now, seemed quite contented.

  Waiting till everyone was well settled, Miss Janeway began.

  “Unfortunately, Annabella’s dream was fairly dead-on. This last victim’s body was found outside the Grand Salon.”

  “She was a little closer to the check-in desk when I saw her,” Annabella confirmed, though she seemed to be shivering slightly. “. . . but she was being drawn down to the Salon like all the other ghosts.”

  Armand had let go of her hand reluctantly but moved a little closer, even if he worried that her smile was more long-suffering acceptance than appreciation.

  “That’s going to be harder to keep quiet, isn’t it?” he wondered. At least the second murder had happened inside the room, where they could close the doors.

  Miss Janeway sighed. “I think the management’s deciding how to play it. One option is to cordon off the whole Grand Salon area and say they’re remodeling. The other . . .” She smiled slightly. “. . . is to admit it and see if it helps bookings.”

  That actually got Annabella to put down her scone, which was nearly a bit of magic on its own. Armand had been pondering that he needed to see if he could practice making them, so he could, quite literally, bake with love, but so far it was a thought to leave till closer to Valentine’s or some other such holiday.

  “They think that people will want to come get their hearts ripped out?” Annabella asked, amazed.

  “No,” Miss Janeway smiled. “One of the ship’s great draws, other than history and grandeur, is its ghosts. A murder mystery just adds a rather interestingly macabre draw for many tourists.”

  Sometimes, I don’t get people, Annabella said, just to him, and he gave her a smile of agreement.

  “What else did they find?” he drew them back to the point.

  “What you’d expect, really. It’s not a human, as no human has claws or enough strength to rip open a ribcage.”

  He watched Annabella pause in eating for a moment then apparently rethink, putting some more raspberry jam and cream on her scone before continuing.

  “Of course,” Miss Janeway continued, “the police are trying to come up with pretty much any theory which doesn’t reflect the facts, but that’s only natural, given how little they know about the extranormal world.”

  Admitting that it wasn’t done by a human did sound like an unlikely option for them.

  “Still, the most probable suspects would be a demon, a vengeance wraith, or a completely out-of-control vampire or werewolf.”

  “No vampires or werewolves,” Kitty shook her head.

  Brutus nodded in agreement.

  Since the two ex-animals would be able to spot a scent that immensely different, the group moved on.

  “It may be other things, too,” Miss Janeway conceded. “But most of those aren’t exactly native to the area and would probably be noticed on the ship.”

  Annabella had a bit of jam on her cheek, which Armand found utterly adorable, but, as she wasn’t finished yet and they were alone among friends, he figured he’d wait to tell her about it.

  “What things?” she wondered.

  “Oh, a million of them,” the older woman went on. “Sasquatches, wendigo, various human/animal hybrids . . .”

  Both Kitty and Brutus shook their heads.

  “But again they wouldn’t be easy to hide.”

  Miss Janeway looked thoughtful.

  “An elf could do it, too, and some of them are bastards enough to try, but they generally dislike getting their hands dirty. Even if one were behind this, which I don’t see any reason for, it would probably be one of the kings, and he’d send someone else in to do the work, instead.”

  Annabella was watching carefully. Sadly, she had removed the jam from her cheek.

  While Armand felt her confusion, as he didn’t think any of them had really told her much about the various, more dangerous groups of elves, she apparently wanted to focus on what seemed more likely. “What’s a vengeance wraith?”

  Kitty made what seemed to be
an only half-conscious “mrrl!” noise and then quietly wiped her mouth as though nothing had happened.

  “Oh dear. It’s a little difficult to explain,” Miss Janeway dawdled.

  Hubert picked up the thread, although really only Annabella needed the explanation.

  “It’s sort of a cross between a demon and a solid ghost. It’s created when someone has such a huge grudge that they die cursing someone else—and meaning it completely.”

  Annabella shuddered. “Sounds unpleasant.”

  Hubert nodded. “It’s sort of a human-sized bat with the head of Nosferatu, except it’s half ghost and half solid.” Waving away the attempt, he went on. “Difficult to explain, but, yeah, they’re nasty.”

  “So either someone’s created a vengeance wraith against the Queen Mary or there’s a demon involved in this,” Annabella summed up.

  They weren’t happy options. Certainly, Armand would have liked to keep Annabella away from demons for the rest of her life, especially after their close call with Beatrix and her demonic master.

  “If it’s a demon,” Annabella went on. “. . . then our options are: one, it could be convincing the ghosts to work for it with promises of some reward. Two, the bad or angry ghosts might be pulled toward it in sympathy or just be taking their chance for general nastiness. Or three, the ghosts could be trying to warn.”

  “Or all three, yes,” Miss Janeway agreed. “If it’s a vengeance wraith, its presence could be drawing out more of the ghosts. The curse which creates it can have a negative effect on spirit kind, so those ghosts who usually are neutral, or even positive, may be more drawn toward expressing their own grudges.”

  Armand sighed. “That does seem to go along with what we’ve heard of some of the ghosts.”

  “. . . like the children near the pool getting angry at the loss of their mother or the worker down in the engine room wanting to go home,” Annabella finished for him.

  “Also,” Hubert put in. “. . . it’s possible whatever this is calls out to its victims first, like it has with Annabella.”

  His gaze apologetic, he continued.

  “Or there could be something about her which is picking up warnings, despite its intentions.”

  They all pondered it for a moment.

  Finally, Armand noted what they were already planning to do. “If it’s a vengeance wraith, we need to see why these particular people were targeted.”

  Looking at Annabella worriedly, he continued.

  “And maybe we also need to see if Annabella’s family could have something to do with this.”

  Bemused, she stared at him. “You think there’s a reason I’m here beyond coming with you?”

  Armand sighed. “Well, this is happening at the one time of the year Miriam makes her trip. We should look into the other guests and see if any of them tend to return often.”

  Nodding, Annabella was obviously making plans. “Maybe we could talk to one of the bartenders, since, if what Miriam says is true, Nicolette may not remember them.”

  Clearly still trying to understand, her gaze moved further into him.

  “But if there’s some sort of vengeance involved, do you really think it could have something to do with the D’Elfins? I mean, as far as I know, they’ve been dead since I was a child.”

  A moment later, she looked back to Miss Janeway, and Armand agreed that it was better to explain, both to her and to Kitty, who’d really only heard a bit of it before.

  “I was kidnapped from my parents, the D’Elfins, by Beatrix back when I was a child. I don’t remember or know anything about them. If any of this is about blood, we’ll probably have to contact Tillie and see if the Magical Council knows something more about them than I do.”

  “It’s possible,” Miss Janeway agreed slowly. “Still, I think we also have to accept the possibility that the possession and the dream are more about where you are in your conversion, possibly even about your untapped power. That you once had a demon mark and were under an almost lifelong compulsion might just, I’m afraid, make you an easier target to attack.”

  Kitty left off her tea and grabbed Annabella’s hand with both of her own, which made it rather difficult to drink herself. Still, Armand saw her smile at the ex-cat tenderly and was thankful. If he were lucky, Kitty would come to cherish Annabella’s presence almost as much as he did.

  Meeting Miss Janeway’s eyes once more, Annabella had apparently waited till Kitty was calmer to speak.

  “That’s certainly possible. I’ve more been told that I have magic than I really feel like I do. Somehow, it’s never quite like . . .”

  She seemed to be searching for a way to explain.

  “. . . like it’s really mine.”

  “Given that Beatrix stole it for so long, that’s not surprising, dear,” Miss Janeway murmured gently. “Your conversion into sorcerer will be all about accepting your power, which seems to be a bit difficult for you.”

  Annabella blushed slightly, and Armand took her other hand.

  “Unfortunately, that’s probably the sort of attitude which makes it far easier to try to steal it from you, as well.”

  That was a very gentle way of telling me that I should just accept that I’m a special little, magical unicorn and get over it, wasn’t it? Annabella said to him.

  He smiled. Thankfully, you’re not a unicorn, as they can be rather ornery, but otherwise, yes. Absolutely. His gaze looked through her with love. I would do anything to make you accept yourself more and overcome Beatrix’s years of dismantling your ego. Unfortunately, that’s not something anyone has much power over but you.

  When she smiled at him, he knew she saw his point, but that didn’t make it easier. Dismissing beliefs which had been beaten into you your whole life was much simpler said than done.

  With that, they were left in much the same place they had been before—although one other disturbing question arose.

  “If they are after my power,” Annabella began. “What are they trying to create or do with it?”

  No one had an answer, but it clearly worried them.

  Having nothing but theories, there were only a few things they were left with. They would have to look into both the past guests who had died as well as the current ones who might be targeted, especially any who returned often. Also, they would need to use their ex-animal friends to question whichever ghosts seemed least likely to attack. And they would need to try to protect Annabella—and all the other guests—as much as they could.

  Now, if there were some easier way to do this than by trying to find and question everyone on the ship, they might be much better off.

  Chapter 12

  Annabella

  An hour later, they had gone over the itinerary of the ship’s special events and had found another lucky—or suspicious—coincidence. The Queen Mary Historical Society were apparently having their annual get together.

  While Hubert, Brutus and Miss Janeway went off to find out what they could about the guests who’d been killed, Annabella, Armand, and Kitty—who wouldn’t leave her side any more than Armand would—set off for the Historical Society’s welcoming party.

  The arrival of a supposed Duke in their midsts made the kind of waves they’d hoped for in this Brit-loving crowd. Given that the society’s first event was a meet-and-greet in the ship’s Observation Bar, the drinks had undoubtedly made them even more chatty. Although she knew he hated it, Armand was quite charming, but at least the first half hour was merely formalities and introductions, giving Annabella a good amount of time to observe.

  The bar alone was pure Art Deco opulence, with huge columns made out of some polished red wood. While it was lovely, she had to wonder whether it was now one of the extinct ones.

  The bar was a sort of semi-circle with huge windows looking out, although very few people were staring through them, too caught up in the excitement of reunions and the meetings of like minds. Although many of the members were older to purely elderly, there was a younger face here and
there, caught up in the aura of the ship’s grandeur and history.

  Through it all, Annabella was trying not to be impatient and also attempting to live up to her partner’s charm. As she knew she couldn’t do it on her own, she had pushed a bit of her magic into her presentation, not so much into her looks but as a very subtle persuasion to others to see her as not entirely unequal to her partner. Being seen as duchess material would have required compulsions she wasn’t willing to use.

  She caught Armand’s quick look at this thought, knowing he didn’t agree. While she knew she needed to work on her self-esteem enough not to be quite so open to persuasion, it was a long cry between her belief that she might be able to go into a crowd without utterly embarrassing herself (which had been a hard-enough battle) and swanning into the room as the queen of all she surveyed.

  Armand didn’t need to tell her his opinion of this, as she could see it in the back of his eyes, but they didn’t discuss it, openly or otherwise.

  She did approach him on another subject, though. Tillie’s going to be okay with the few hundred dollars we just shelled out to be part of this group?

  Yes. Akukars and dukes have some leeway in what they spend. Not everything can be handled with a spell.

  The Council has that many extra funds? Annabella wondered. Its inner workings were still a mystery to her.

  Some witches are quite talented with money.

  So . . . a financial wizard?

  He gave her a look, but she knew he was amused.

  Her charm spells did work on at least one man, as well, an extremely gentlemanly ex-commander of some of the Queen Mary’s maritime descendants. Apparently, while he’d been too young to serve on this ship before it was decommissioned, his father had been in long service here, so he still knew quite a few tales.

  He was a pleasant and attractive, much older gentleman—at least by human terms. Hubert might still have had a few years on him, though.

  Finding a quiet corner, he seemed quite happy to answer all of Annabella’s questions. While Armand and Kitty were relatively close by in the crowd, they gave her enough space to work.