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hungry.
    “Hodges is losing his limbs again,” Heather said.
    Hodges, the cook, was dead. At least, he had been dead for a short time. He had been brought back as a zombie and then his ghost had been put back into his body. He was now classed as the living dead. His body was technically dead, but his mind was intact and he was aware of who he had been. Usually the body was boiled in wine or vinegar to strip away the flesh leaving just a skeleton, so incidents like this didn’t happen. 
    “Miss Grimble should really insist he have his flesh removed,” Cassade said. She took the finger from Raiden and wrapped it in her handkerchief. She gave it to one of the passing maids, who brought out a fresh bowl.
    They finished their broth and then they had to sit and wait until Miss Grimble finally rose from the table to dismiss them. “You may go to bed when you’re ready. I’m sure you are all tired from your journey. Lessons will begin immediately after breakfast tomorrow morning. Do not forget, I expect all the older girls to be at the party tomorrow night.”
    Mrs Lynch waited at the door, handing out candles as they left the hall. Gas had been installed in some parts of the manor, but Miss Grimble didn’t trust them with gas in their bedrooms. There had been an accident some years before, and with fire witches at the school, Miss Grimble saw a fire as preferable to a gas leak. Cassade took a candle and led the way upstairs. Blaize strode past, with Glacia behind her, a ball of fire in her hand. They passed a doorway that had been bricked up. Muffled sounds came from behind it.
    “A party,” Cassade muttered as they went up the stairs. “How wonderful. I came here to learn, not to be paraded around. I want to be judged by my intellect, not how well I look in a dress.”
    “They won’t judge you by how you look in a dress,” Raiden said, linking arms with her friend. “There’s also your family’s social position, their wealth and how much influence they have to take into consideration.”
    The crowd of girls they had left the hall with gradually thinned as the younger girls broke off to go to their own rooms, until it was just Raiden and Cassade left. They made their way up the labyrinth of staircases until they finally reached the tiny stone steps that led to their floor.
    “I’m going to bed,” Cassade said, when they reached the top. “Rayne kept me up last night talking.”
    Raiden fetched a candle from her room. She held the wick against Cassade’s candle to light it. “Good night,” she said. It was strange having someone to say goodnight to.
    “Good night, dearest,” Cassade said. She stopped at the door and turned back. “I’m glad we’re back here together, even if we have to put up with Blaize and Glacia and Grumble’s silly parties.”
    “So am I,” Raiden said, and meant it.
    After she had left, Raiden set the candle down on her dressing table. Marielle had laid out her nightdress and turned down her bed. The ghost hadn’t waited up to help Raiden with her dress, but Raiden didn’t need her help. Unlike the travelling dress she had worn on the way here, the grey day dress they wore at the school had buttons that ran down the front. It meant a maid wasn’t needed to get into and out of it. Raiden pulled out the pins from her hair and let the heavy mass tumble down her back. She could see an egg shaped lump under the covers on her bed. Peters had put a brimstone in her bed. She held her hand above it. She could feel the warmth emanating from the stone and see a faint amber glow through the blankets. It would keep her feet warm tonight.
    Raiden went to the door and turned the brass key in the lock. She took the newspaper cutting out from under the book, where she had hidden it when Cassade had burst in. She had taken it from the newspaper the day before. It didn’t say very much, only that a Mr James Matherson had been in his bedroom at home when a fire had broken out. The door had been