by Amy Hopkins
Amelia cocked her head. “I wonder if you can even burn a fire witch? It’s either poetic justice and will work like a charm, or she’ll be completely immune.
“And just like that, this place gets even creepier.” Penny headed toward the staircase. Instead of going up, she peeked around the back. “Looks like this leads to a kitchen.”
The kitchen was dark, the shadows deepened by a thin coating of sooty grime on the walls and windows instead of the pale dust coating the other rooms.
Red ran a finger over the tiled counter, leaving a clean streak of white and blue porcelain exposed. “Someone needs to get rid of the maid,” he remarked, screwing up his face. He wiped the dirty fingertip on his pants, leaving a black mark. “Aw, now I’m all dirty!”
“That’s smoke damage,” Penny told him. “Maybe the oven flue got blocked.” She leaned over the ancient wood-fired stove and stuck her head in, then drew it out, coughing. “Ugh. Blocked by a family of spiders. I think I just snorted a cobweb.”
“What’s that in the corner of the room?” Amelia pointed at a cluster of blackened debris that came to her knee. The ceiling above had crumbled away, revealing rotted floorboards above.
Penny stepped back, running her eyes over the room. “The soot and scorch marks are all coming from that direction.” She waved a hand at the ceiling above. “And the damage is worse above it. Maybe that was the origin of the fire?”
Red nudged the heap with a toe and his breath caught in his throat. “I don’t think it was the fuel.” He crept closer, then pulled back. “I think it was the victim.”
Penny’s gut twisted as she realized the shape of the burned heap was curled into a fetal position. “It’s…a body?”
The black shape twitched, and Amelia squealed. “It’s alive!”
“It’s not—” Penny’s protest stuck in her throat as she realized Amelia was right. Penny yanked her gun from her belt, pointing it at the blackened, twisted shape that rose from the scorched remnants.
Two eyes shone malevolently from a skeletal face. A gaping maw formed by broken teeth and melted lips opened, and a hoarse scream filled the room.
Red screamed back, a shrill, ear-piercing sound that drowned out the damaged vocals of the ghoul before them. He grabbed a heavy cast iron pan from the cooktop and hurled it at the specter. The pan slammed through leathered flesh and brittle bone to clatter on the wall behind it. The ghoul crumpled to the ground.
Red stood over it, breathing heavily.
“Wow, babe. You, uh, really showed that thing.” Amelia’s lips twitched but she held onto her composure. “Was the high-pitched scream a distraction technique?”
Red gave her a wavering grin. “Sorry. I kind of panicked.”
“Intentional or not, it worked,” Penny told him. She patted Red on the back. “It’s okay. We won’t tell anyone you shrieked like a girl.”
“Hey, I didn’t see any girls screaming.” Amelia winked at her boyfriend. “But I won’t tell, either.”
Red wiped a sooty hand over his sweaty forehead, leaving a smudge. “Right. Focus, Red. You’ve got this.” His shoulders wriggled as a shiver wracked him, but he shook it off. “It’s just a house. It’s a creepy as fuck, haunted to the bones, probably witch-infested…house.”
“Can we get a move on?” Penny lowered her gun and clicked the safety back on. “The sooner we’re done here, the sooner I can curl into a ball and cry tears of relief.”
Amelia nodded. “This place really does have an atmosphere, doesn’t it?”
A quick search of the kitchen revealed little of interest, the contents being mostly kitchen equipment and a few intact jars that once held preserved food but were now filled with an opaque, gelatinous substance.
Once Amelia was satisfied they would learn nothing new, the trio moved on. “I haven’t seen a basement,” she said slowly. “So whatever the end goal is, it’s probably up there somewhere.”
Penny drew her weapon again, taking point as they went up the narrow steps. The boards were spongy beneath her feet, and one cracked loudly under her weight. “Be careful,” she whispered to Red. “You don’t want to fall through.”
A tiny landing at the top led to a single door, striking in its sparkling perfection. Somehow, despite the rot through the rest of the building, this door was untouched by age, unmarred by the stains of the ancient fire.
“This is it.” Amelia gestured to the door. “This is the payload. Whatever is in there will either kill us or let us out.”
Penny twisted the brass knob. The door swung open cleanly to reveal an old fashioned office. A desk, not unlike the damaged one downstairs, sat across from her. A plump, balding man sat at the desk, flicking idly through a stack of papers on his desk. He dipped a long pen into a glass ink jar, then scrawled on the page before him.
“Anna, I simply see no way to intervene.” Despite the man’s age, his eyes were bright and intelligent, if scornful and hard. “There were witnesses. I’m afraid your Richard was guilty. Now, he faces the judgment of a higher court.” He looked back down at his desk, flicking the paper aside casually. “May God have mercy on his soul.”
“Don’t you lie to me, Perkins.”
Penny jerked back, spinning around to look for the source of the voice. A dark-haired woman stepped out of a shadowed corner, her face drawn and eyes rimmed with red. Anna Marple.
“Jonas Timms had eyes for Catherine. You know he did.” Anna spat on the floor. “He wanted Richard gone so he could have her for himself.”
Perkins made no reply, simply slipping another sheet of paper to one side.
“Damn you!” Anna shot over to his desk and thrust her arm forward, her fingers splayed. “You can’t ignore me, you bastard!”
Perkins gave a strangled scream as his body was lifted into the air and slammed against the ceiling, his limbs pinned by an unseen force.
“Do you know how it feels to lose your light, your reason to live?” Anna shrieked. “Know now. Laura is dead, burned to ashes like my son.”
Perkins heaved a tight gasp, his terror crumbling to grief. “No.” His whispered plea fell on deaf ears. “No! She is with child!”
“If she was, then they are both dead.” Anna hissed the words, unmoved by the tears streaming down the man’s face. “And now it is your turn. Perhaps you will see them at the gates of Hell.”
Anna flicked her hand and Perkins erupted into flames, writhing and screaming as his body contorted in agony. Flames licked at the ceiling, racing toward the books that lined the nearby walls.
“I will burn you to the ground! You and everyone else in this hell-forsaken town.” Anna’s eyes reflected the glow of the fire as they turned to Penny. “All of you.”
Flames shot from her fingers but Red was faster, swooping in front of Penny with a shield of silver foil. “Good thing she’s never heard of an emergency blanket, eh?” He grinned as the roaring fire rained against the protective sheet.
The heat lessened, and Anna let out a yell of frustration.
Penny cocked her weapon. “Where’s Amelia?” She had to yell over the crackling and hiss of burning wood.
“Behind the desk,” Red told her.
Penny nodded to show she’d heard. “You’re on defense!”
Red nodded and dropped even closer to the ground, taking the sheet with him. Penny blinked her burning eyes, exposed to a fresh wave of scorching heat. There. A shadow moved in the smoke, and she let off two rounds. The quick pop-pop of the gun was punctuated by the sound of the specialist bullets exploding into wood, followed by a hiss of evaporating water. Then, just as Penny had given up hope, there was a wail of pain.
Penny shrank down behind the fire blanket, and Red pulled it over her head.
“Did you get her, lass?”
Penny shook her head. “I think I hit her with some holy steam, but it sure didn’t sound like the throes of death.” She couldn’t be sure how much damage had been done, but now they knew at least one of their weapons worked. “
Let’s move out.”
Penny crouched beneath the billowing smoke and pointed her flashlight toward the mayor’s desk. She clicked it on and off a few times, signaling to Amelia that they were retreating. A sequence of flashes came back, showing she had understood.
Huddled under the fireproof blankets, they fled. Penny paused only to yank the door closed behind her. “Ouch!” She sucked her fingers, which were singed from the hot doorknob.
“Downstairs,” Red suggested. “We can make our stand in the kitchen.”
“There’s no chance those water pumps work, Red.” Amelia ran as she spoke, taking the stairs two at a time.
“No,” he agreed. “But it’s not quite as flammable as these old wooden walls. It’ll hold a boat-load of blessed steam, and it’s full of sharp things.”
Penny grinned. “You’re thinking we need to go Queen of Hearts?”
“Off with her head!” Red jumped, sailing over the last four steps and spinning on one foot with a grin. “Then the old bitch can burn herself down!”
Penny slapped her palm on his as she passed him in a high five. “Let’s hope the whole building goes down with her.”
"Don't steal all my fun." Red followed Penny and Amelia into the kitchen. He quickly glanced around, then armed himself with a cast iron cooking pot.
Penny scanned the room, even as she felt the seconds ticking by. An evil cackle filled the air, but she ignored it.
Something sharp. She spied a small paring knife. Too small. I need something with a bit of weight behind it. Something that will slice through— A grin spread across Penny’s face when she spotted what she needed. Perfect.
A heavy weight slammed into the kitchen door. Penny gripped the cleaver in her hand and edged behind the heavy table in the center of the room. Another slam, this one hard enough to dislodge a pin in one of the heavy black hinges.
Silence.
The door exploded, metal bracing and ancient wood splintering as it flew across the room.
Penny threw herself under the table, flinching as something ricocheted off it. She heard Red's cry from the doorway and scrambled forward, coming to her feet to see her friend wrestling with the gruesome specter.
Anna Marple’s face had aged and withered, her hair thinning to just a few grey strands sprouting from an age-spotted scalp. She bared her teeth—what was left of them—and drew back a hand, her movements strong and steady despite knobbled joints and wasting flesh.
A ball of flame flared in her palm as her other hand gripped Red's throat.
He struggled to free himself from her chokehold, his toes dangling a few inches off the floor as the witch floated in the middle of the room.
Penny wanted to react. She itched to move but forced herself to wait. She didn't have to wait long.
With a yell of victory, Amelia yanked the crone's flaming hand behind her back, caught it in a garrote, and twisted it painfully up to her shoulder blades. While Penny gripped the cleaver, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, Red dropped to the floor and grabbed the pot he had dropped in the attack.
He swung it, smashing cast iron into the witch’s skull. Anna screamed in anguish, her cries bubbling as blood poured from her mouth. Her eye swung from a sticky tendon, dangling by her cheek beneath the cavernous indent in her head.
Red adjusted his grip and swung the pot again, this time bringing it down on the witch’s head like an oversized hat. He pinned her down, and Amelia grabbed her legs. Despite the old woman's injuries, she writhed and flailed.
Penny let out a grunt of frustration. "Hold her still!" If she didn't execute the move perfectly, well. It wouldn't be the witch who was executed.
"She’s stronger than she looks," Red snapped. He had all his weight on the pot, but it still shuddered and scraped on the stone floor as Anna struggled to free herself.
If you want something done right… Penny threw herself across the old woman's body, using her knees to pin the witch’s chest. She ignored the claws that pierced her shirt and scratched her belly.
Penny raised the cleaver. Then, she brought it down with all her might.
Chapter Sixteen
Penny stared at the smoldering building, her jaw clenched. She pulled away from Amelia’s touch on her arm.
“It was worth a try, lass.” For once, Red spoke sincerely.
“No.” Penny turned back toward her friends. “It was a waste of time. Time I could have better spent elsewhere.”
“Like where?” Amelia waved a hand around. “You had no idea what you’d find here! You have other leads, but none of them are ready to be actioned. At least now you know the address was a fake or a diversion, but the outcome is the same. Now you can focus your efforts somewhere else.”
“I suppose so.” Penny kicked at a lump of broken concrete on the ground, then pulled out her phone. “I guess the yoga class is canceled?”
“I’m still up for it.” Red looked down at the pale skin peeking through his singed and shredded tights. “I don’t think my pants are, though.”
“That was enough of a workout for me,” Amelia told them. “I might hit the library though—after I clean up. I was going to do it tomorrow anyway.”
“Assignment?” Penny asked.
Amelia shook her head. “I’m going to put my meager skills to the test. My plan is to trawl through all the independent newspapers and local blogs to see if there’s any mention of this Polybius game.”
“And I’m going to rub her feet while she does it.” Red shrugged. “Unless there’s a better way for me to help? The next full moon is weeks away. Otherwise, I could just sniff the bastard out.”
“Let’s hope we find him before it comes to that.” Penny straightened her shoulders. “This hunch may not have panned out, but I still have a few more cards up my sleeve.”
“And a few more scars, if you don’t get those healed.” Amelia gestured to Penny’s ruined shirt. “Make sure you get that treated, Penny. Who knows what disgusting germs those grotty fingernails were harboring.”
Rather than trust Penny’s good sense, Amelia accompanied her to the first aid room when they arrived back at the Academy.
"Get to it." Amelia waved at the locker that housed the Asclepius Staff. "I'll do the paperwork for you."
"You're a gem." Penny entered the six-digit code to unlock the door and grabbed the staff. She pulled up her shirt, wincing as she peeled off a bit of fabric that was stuck to her skin. Luckily, the wound looked fairly clean. The staff would take care of any bacteria, but not solid debris that would become trapped in the flesh as it healed over.
A few short minutes later, Penny felt whole again, if extremely hungry.
“I don't meet the dress standards for the dining hall like this. I'll have to change before I eat." Penny scribbled her signature on the sign out paperwork Amelia handed to her. “Are you heading down to grab dinner?”
Amelia considered a moment, then shook her head. “No. I can grab something on the way to the library with Red. I want to get started right away.”
Penny nodded. In truth, she was a little relieved. “Oh, by the way, I’m going out tonight. DeLouise has organized a visit to the Bagdad for me, but I can’t get in until they close.”
“You’re following up on the lead Paddy gave you?” Amelia grimaced. “Well, I guess it’s better to go after they close than before they open. I hate early mornings.”
“Same. They did offer me a morning visit, but one AM somehow sounded less awful than five.” Penny gave Amelia an impulsive hug as they headed upstairs together. “Thanks for coming to check out that horrible house with me.”
They reached their room, and Penny turned the doorknob. She pushed, but it didn’t open.
“Huh?” She jiggled the handle and shoved harder. This time, the door cracked open a tiny sliver. “Something is blocking the door.”
“How?” Amelia added her weight to it. “Is someone in there?”
The answer came as a hiss. “Boots?” Penny slapped a hand on the
door. “You open this door right now, Miss. So help me I’ll—”
There was a scrape and a clatter, and the door fell open.
Penny stepped inside and righted the fallen chair. “Did you barricade the door?” she asked, incredulous. “Why? How? You’re a snake!”
Boots’ hiss turned from apologetic to offended.
“Fine. You’re a highly intelligent serpent. But what the hell?” Penny perched on the edge of her bed and gestured for Boots to join her. “Was someone trying to get in?”
Boots nodded.
“And you thought they wanted to hurt you?” she asked.
Boots waggled her head in a dipping, swaying movement that was somewhere between a yes and a no.
“I don’t even know what that means.” Penny sighed. “You poor thing. You were scared, weren’t you?”
Boots shook her head. Then, she looked down and nodded.
Penny cupped the serpent’s head and touched their noses together. “Whatever spooked you, we’ll get to the bottom of it.”
“Hey, Penny’s not the only one who has your back.” Amelia leaned down so she was eye level with the serpent. “If you ever need help, Red and I are here for you too. Okay?”
Boots reached up to flick a tongue on Amelia’s cheek as a sign of thanks. She curled into Penny’s lap, then sniffed at the torn, bloodied shirt and coughed in disgust. Boots wriggled backward and made a show of rolling on the bed to clean herself.
“Hey!” Penny squealed. “I have to sleep on that!”
Chuckling, Amelia tossed Penny a towel. “You go shower, I’ll stay here with the germophobic reptile.”
Shooting Amelia a grin of gratitude, Penny grabbed some clothes. “Is that okay, Boots? I won’t be long.”
Boots gave an unimpressed sniff and turned away before slithering over to Amelia’s bed.
Penny gave her a fond look. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
When she returned, the room was tidy, and Amelia had changed into fresh clothes. Boots was sprawled across Penny’s bedspread, which she was pleased to see was still clean.
