The Phantom Queen: A Whisper Hollow Novel, Book 3

by Yasmine Galenorn

  “Haunted and likely to stay that way,” Ellia said. “Your agent was remiss. Yes, there have been deaths here, but they weren’t natural, and the spirits aren’t at rest. The house was owned by a man named Ezra Johnson. Back in 1903, Ezra—who seemed like a nice, successful man on the surface—was actually an alcoholic, and he got violent when he drank. One night his wife Emily told him she was going to leave him and take the kids. In a drunken fit, Ezra grabbed his shotgun and killed her. He drank another fifth of whiskey, then attempted to bury her in the garden.”

  Mandy paled. “Oh, man. That’s bad.”

  “It gets worse,” Oriel said. “His oldest son heard the argument, and when he went outside to find out what was going on, he stumbled onto Ezra trying to bury Emily. Ezra shot him, too. After that, Ezra went upstairs and proceeded to strangle the rest of the children in their beds. There were four little ones, the youngest two years old.”

  Mandy was now as pale as a ghost herself. “Uh…I didn’t know that.”

  “After that,” I said, “Ezra hanged himself from the chandelier in the foyer. The next day a neighbor came over to borrow some sugar and found Emily and Kaden in the garden. She summoned the sheriff, and he found the four children and Ezra in the house.”

  “Well, shit on a shingle,” Mandy said, transfixed. “So my house was the site of a mass murder? The real estate agent didn’t tell me that when he rented it to me. Everything was taken care of over the phone.”

  “Then you didn’t see the place before you rented it?”

  “Leased it,” she said, “And no. I moved in here sight unseen. I knew it was old and a fixer-upper, but nothing like that.”

  I let out a short breath. That explained why she had taken the place. “The spirits are so entrenched in the house and land that even if you razed the place, they’d still be here, haunting the land. I’m the spirit shaman of Whisper Hollow, and even I can’t dislodge them. If you stay here, you’ll be sharing the house with a number of very angry spirits.”

  Now she really looked confused. “Spirit shaman? Angry ghosts? What the hell have I gotten myself into?”

  Oriel reached over and patted her hand. “One step at a time. Obviously, Whisper Hollow called you here. When the town summons someone, there’s not much they can do about it but to move here. You said you’re leasing this place, rather than buying it?”

  Mandy nodded. “Right. I rented it for a year on a lease, then I was going to decide what to do.”

  At that moment, there was a scream from upstairs. A very real, very terrified shriek.

  “Ansel!” Mandy leapt up, racing for the stairs. “Ansel, are you all right?”

  We followed after her. I was right on her heels, Ivy behind me, and Ellia and Oriel following. On the second-floor landing, Mandy turned to the left and jogged along the worn carpet that ran the length of the hallway. She threw open the second door on the right, and raced in. I followed her.

  Inside, there was a small boy, around three, and he was cowering on the bed, trying to hide his head. I could see the ghost of a man looming over him, reaching for the child. I pushed Mandy aside. I didn’t have my equipment with me, but even so, I had a trick or two up my sleeve.

  I held out my hands and drew the Void Runes in the air.

  Three runes, they were powerful magic that my grandma Lila had used. One was a lightning bolt running through a scythe, the second was an arrow piercing a crescent moon, and the third was a cauldron with a skull on it.

  The runes could dispel heavy magic, but using them knocked the wind out of me. I pushed the runes toward the spirit, infusing all my force and focus into them. The moment they hit him, a nimbus of pale blue light surrounded him and he reared, glaring at me. I whispered Go and, the next moment, he was gone.

  As I slumped back, the little boy broke into hysterical screams. Mandy raced over to the bed and caught him up in her arms. She burst into tears as she held him close to her.

  “What the hell…was that…” She stared at me bleakly.

  “Ezra, I think it was.”

  “Is he gone?” she asked, looking over her shoulder.

  “Not for good.” I shook my head. “As I said, I can’t dispel the ghosts here. They’re linked to the land and there’s not much I can do to permanently eradicate them. I can frighten them away, like I did now, but it’s not going to be much good in the long run.”

  She patted her son’s head, whispering to him. As he began to calm down, she looked nervously around the room. “What if he comes back? Can he…can he hurt Ansel?”

  “I’m afraid so,” I said. “Ezra, and the other ghosts here, are for the most part what we call Haunts. They’re angry, and they can cause a great deal of harm to the living. They can even kill. I saw another ghost when I entered your house. She was on the staircase. A little girl. Probably one of Ezra’s children. Child ghosts are extremely problematic for a family with children. They can easily lure little kids into danger.”

  Mandy paled even further. “I keep thinking I hear a little girl laughing, but for some reason, her laughter makes me nervous. I kept trying to tell myself it was my imagination. What am I going to do?”

  “Find another place to rent,” Oriel advised. “Even if you lose a year’s lease, it’s worth it. This house has remained abandoned for almost 120 years for a reason. There have been over fifty owners and renters, and they’ve all left abruptly.”

  She patted the boy’s arm. Within seconds, he stopped crying, hiccupped, and turned to her with a smile. Ansel reached for Oriel and Mandy reluctantly let him go. Oriel held the child and he started to laugh and chatter away to her, as though the incident had never happened.

  “I’ve never seen him take to anyone like that,” Mandy said, her frown vanishing. “He’s usually so shy.”

  “Oriel has a knack with children,” Ivy said. “She is a perpetual grandmother, even though she has no children of her own.”

  “All of Whisper Hollow’s children are my grandkids,” Oriel said with a laugh. She carried Ansel toward the stairs. I caught sight of the little girl glaring at her, but Oriel looked in the ghost’s direction and the little girl immediately backed off, watching the little boy with a wistful expression.

  When we were back in the living room, Oriel handed Ansel back to his mother. Mandy bit her lip. “I’m not sure what to do. A year’s rent is a lot of money, even for an old white elephant like this.”

  “Whoever rented it to you should be spanked and spanked firmly.” I frowned, wondering if it was the same agent who had sold my best friend Peggin a house way too close to the lake. If so, I might ask Bryan to have another little talk with him, to dissuade him from taking advantage of buyers. “What was his—or her—name?”

  “His name is Jack Walters,” Mandy said.

  Bingo. Same dude. Jack had lost his friendship with Peggin due to his greed. If he didn’t stop acting so irresponsibly, he’d lose a lot more than friends and customers.

  “We’ll have a talk with Jack. Meanwhile, pack a suitcase while we’re here, and we’ll take you to a hotel. Is your husband at work, and do you have any other children?”

  She shook her head. “It’s just me and Ansel. I’m a widow. My husband died about seven months ago. Ansel is our—my—only child. Austin and I were only married ten months before I got pregnant. When he died last year, I came over here to get away for a little while. I stayed in Port Townsend, and that’s when I drove past Whisper Hollow. I needed a change and the town called to me. I decided to move here, but it took some doing to tie up affairs at home.” She bit her lip. “I can’t believe this is happening. What am I going to do? I already sold my house in Bellingham.”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll give you the name of a real estate agent you can trust. As for now, I’d say go to the Peninsula Hotel. They have in-house dining, and—do you have any pets?” Ivy asked.

  Mandy shook her head. “I want to get a dog, but haven’t yet.”

  “Well, that helps. The Peninsula Hotel w
ill rent to you by the week, as well as by the day. They do take pets, for an additional fee. Go upstairs and pack. Kerris, you go with her,” Ivy said.

  Oriel held out her arms. “I’ll hold Ansel for you.”

  I escorted Mandy upstairs to her bedroom. “I know this is all confusing, but please trust us. You don’t want to stay here. It’s dangerous.”

  “You said you were a spirit shaman. What’s that?” she asked, pulling a large suitcase out of her closet. The room made me nervous. I felt claustrophobic, and the energy made my head spin. As I looked around, I realized I was seeing the room as it was in the beginning, superimposed over the room as it was now. The furniture in the ghostly exposure told me it had been Ezra and Emily’s bedroom.

  I sat on the bed, folding clothes and packing them as she tossed them onto the heavy quilt. “Whisper Hollow is like…Grand Central Station for spiritual activity. Not only ghosts, but other types of spirits and creatures. As a spirit shaman, it’s my job to escort the dead over to the Veil. Long story short, it’s my job to drive them back to the grave when they walk. I can’t manage all of them—for example, like the ones here in this house. Some spirits are stronger than the magic I wield. But I take care of the ones who cause the most damage, the ones not locked into a piece of land.” I paused, then asked her, “Before you came to Whisper Hollow, were you seeing any crows?”

  She straightened up, turning around. “Yes, actually. Why?”

  “Remember how we told you the rules of Whisper Hollow aren’t just there for tourism’s sake? Once you settle in here, you’ll learn the background of each one better, but for now, let’s just say that you were summoned by the Crow Man. While I’m not sure what it is right now, I’m sure in time we’ll learn why you were called to the town.” I tucked her socks into the corner of the suitcase. “I know this sounds odd, but if you really are pulled to live in Whisper Hollow, then I urge you to listen to us.”

  She began to pack her makeup case with the bottles and vials on her vanity table. “Do the four of you visit every newcomer who moves to town?”

  I shook my head. “No, actually. I think most people who move here have an inkling of why they’ve come. But when Sophia called me about you and this house, I knew we had to come talk to you. Now, I’m extremely glad we did. If you stay in this house, I’d be afraid that you and Ansel would be in a great deal of danger. This isn’t safe ground.”

  Mandy zipped the suitcase closed, then looked around. “I suppose I can store the rest of my things, along with my furniture, until I find a new place.” She held my gaze for a moment. “I believe that everything happens for a reason. I’m glad that the chief of police called you, and why you came over. You saved Ansel’s life. Whatever that thing…that ghost…wanted, it was out to hurt him. If you hadn’t been here, who knows what would have happened? So thank you. And I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”

  We stopped in Ansel’s room, where I kept a nervous watch out as she quickly packed another suitcase with his clothes and toys. “When I come back to pack up the rest of my things, will you come with me? I don’t want to be here alone.”

  I smiled at her. “Of course. I’ll give you my number. I suggest you hire a moving crew to help. The more people here, the less likely the ghosts will try to interfere. They tend not to bother crowds.”

  We headed downstairs where she gathered together one last suitcase full of papers and mementoes—just in case—and we helped her out to her car. Ivy volunteered to show her the way to the Peninsula Hotel. As they drove off, I turned to Ellia, who was staring back at the old Johnson place.

  “They should just raze this to the ground,” I said. “Why don’t they?”

  “The owners want to recoup their money. It’s all in the hands of whoever bought it last. Even though they don’t want to live here, I rather doubt that they want to trash the place and salt the earth to burn out the energy. It would be quite a financial loss. To be honest, I don’t even know if that would do the trick. My guess is that anything new built over this land would also end up haunted.” She sighed, turning to Oriel. “Ah well. At least we walk away from this one without any casualties.”

  Oriel laughed. “You can’t ask for much better than that,” she said.

  And when I thought about it, I agreed with her.

  Chapter Three

  On the way home, I decided to ask Bryan to talk to Jack Walters. He had helped Peggin out of a bind, and maybe he could do the same for Mandy.

  Ellia didn’t have time to stop where Tiger went off the road, so I dropped into the graveyard to leave a note for Penelope, then headed downtown at Carney’s Bakery to pick up a dozen doughnuts and a Black Forest cake for dessert. Then I dropped into Carter’s Market to buy the fixings for clam chowder and biscuits. I could do a more thorough shopping later on.

  One last stop at the Broom & Thistle Coffee Shop netted me a triple-shot mocha, and a pound of beans for the grinder. By the time I got home, it was two p.m.

  As I put the food away, my thoughts once again turned to my life. I had settled into the house and gotten rid of everything belonging to my grandparents that I didn’t want to keep. The house was beginning to feel like mine, and that gave me a certain confidence. The post of spirit shaman wasn’t easy—the Morrígan had exacting standards, but I was learning. Over the past weeks, I had managed to read my way through a number of Grandma Lila’s journals, tucking away every scrap of knowledge for reference.

  The doorbell rang, interrupting my thoughts, and I answered to find Peggin on my doorstep. She was carrying a large gift-wrapped box. She was wearing a retro fifties fit-and-flare dress, red with white polka dots, with a low-cut sweetheart neckline and a waist nipped in by a snug black belt. Over the dress she was wearing a velvet blazer that laced up the back, and chunky heels that were at least four inches high.

  “Hey, chica,” Peggin said, sweeping past me into the living room. She had a handbag draped over one arm and her cat’s-eye glasses looked new. She had several pair of them, but these had rose-gold frames, and they complemented her dark coppery hair. Peggin was curvaceous, plump and busty, and she was one of the most gorgeous women in town, even though she never seemed to realize it.

  “You look gorgeous, as usual,” I said, grinning. Peggin’s presence could almost always cadge a smile out of me. “What are you doing here in the afternoon?”

  “Thank you, and I took the afternoon off. Here, this is for you,” she said, thrusting the box into my hands as she kissed me on the cheek. Her lip lacquer held fast, without leaving a stain.

  I opened the card attached to the box and laughed. “My birthday’s not till next week.”

  “This isn’t your real birthday gift. It’s a BFF pre-gift. So open it up!” She shrugged out of her jacket and hung it on the coat rack, then peeled off her gloves and tucked them into her handbag as she led the way toward the kitchen. “Can I make myself a mocha?”

  Peggin was the only one I knew who had as great a love—and tolerance—for caffeine as I did. She lived, breathed, and slept coffee.

  I nodded, following her into the kitchen, where I set the box on the table. She immediately began to fill a filter with ground coffee, then prepared a second while she waited for the machine to heat.

  “So, a pre-birthday gift?” I asked.

  She nodded, grinning. “I just felt like giving it to you early. It’s too pretty to sit in a box.”

  The box was about the size of a bowling ball, though not as heavy. It was wrapped in sparkling blue paper with silver stars. A wide velvet ribbon was tied into a bow on top. I pulled the bow, then set the silver ribbon aside, making sure it wasn’t where the cats could get at it. Daphne had a thing for ribbons and I had to be cautious with any sort of dangly threads around her so she wouldn’t try to swallow it.

  I almost hated to rip open the paper, it was so pretty, but I finally tore into it, lifting the box out of the wrapping. Even the box was pretty, with a peacock design on it. I opened the lid and peeked
in. Whatever was in there, it was bubble wrapped to high heaven.

  “Never too careful, are we?” I asked, grinning, as I reached inside to lift the present out of the box. I began to unwind the layers of bubble wrap.

  Peggin poured two shots in her mug, then pulled two more. “Nope, especially when it comes to special gifts.”

  I unwrapped the last layer of packing material to find an odd clockwork statue of a faerie. It was lovely, made of shiny aluminum and clockwork gears and cloisonné-like wings, hand painted on metal. The faerie’s eyes were violet and I realized they were actually made of pale amethyst. She sat on a table, leaning on her left hand. One leg was crossed beneath her and her other leg bent at the knee, foot firmly on the table. Her right arm was bent so her hand was in her hair, which looked to be made of shining strands of black metal.

  Mesmerized, I said, “Deev made this, didn’t he?”

  The faerie was beautiful, about nine inches tall not counting the table, and every nuance had been perfectly captured. Her eyes were twinkling, and there was a little quirk to the side of her lip that made her look like she was smiling as she mused on some thought.

  “Yeah, he did. I asked him to make something special for you. I hope you like it,” Peggin said, pouring milk and cocoa and peppermint syrup into her drink. “I asked him to make something that would bring you a smile.”

  I beamed at her. “Well, he did good. I love her! I don’t know why I think this,” I said as I stared at the faerie, “but her name is Evelyn. I just know it.”

  Peggin clapped. “Oh good! D-D said she would tell you her name, if she was the right gift.” Looking thoroughly delighted, Peggin carried her mug over to the table and sat down opposite from me.

  I couldn’t stop grinning. The faerie made me feel joyful. “I really do love her. She makes me smile. Hey, is she going to go flying around the house?”