"Yes, I'm ready."
"Very good. Bunch awaits us in the parlor."
Bunch?
Miss Bayberry, leaning on her cane, led Karigan to the most elaborate room of all. They sat on a plush sofa which faced yet another hearth. The sofa's armrests were carved with floral patterns and hummingbirds. Sunlight beamed through a broad window casting the room in a warm amber tint.
The plump one, "Bunch," Karigan supposed, carried in a silver tea service on a tray and set it on a table before them.
"We use the silver for special guests only," she said. "Not that we receive guests very often, special or otherwise. Usually a wayward stranger lost in the woods. I trust you found the bath satisfactory."
"Oh, yes—splendid!" It wasn't a word Karigan typically used, but it seemed appropriate in this house of rich furnishings, and in the company of these two ladies.
Bunch poured tea. "Honey and cream? No, not you, my dear Bay. You know what cream does to your digestion."
Miss Bayberry hrrrumfed her opinion.
Butter cookies, scones, and pound cake were served with tea, and while the ladies discussed the oddities of weather and gardening, Karigan's mind brimmed and swirled like the cream in her tea, especially when Bunch poured a fourth cup which she placed before an unoccupied chair.
Miss Bayberry noticed Karigan eyeing the teacup. "I am sorry your other companion could not join us, but Letitia would not have him in the house. She was adamant."
Karigan couldn't take it any longer. "Companion? What companion? I've been traveling alone."
"Oh, my dear. You must be terribly unobservant."
"Or dense," Bunch said, not unsympathetically.
"I was referring, of course, to your companion whom you call The Horse. I assure you that though he did not join us for tea, he is being well tended by the stableboy."
"The Horse." Karigan shifted in her seat wondering if the women were mad. "And the other?"
Bunch and Bayberry exchanged surprised glances.
"If you don't know, dear," Miss Bayberry said, "then it may not be our place to tell you."
"Oh, come now, Bay. She will think us daft old fools. My dear child, a spirit accompanies you."
A swallow of tea caught in Karigan's throat and she choked violently.
"Oh!" fretted Bunch. "I told Letitia to leave the nuts out of the scones."
Miss Bayberry struck Karigan soundly on the back.
"A what accompanies me?" she sputtered.
"My," Bunch said. "She's deaf, too."
"A SPIRIT!" Miss Bayberry hollered through cupped hands.
"Please," Karigan said, her back stinging and her ears ringing, "I can hear fine."
"Ah." Miss Bayberry crooked a skeptical brow. "You are accompanied by a shadow. A specter, a ghost, a shade. You know, dear, a spirit." Her apparent ease with the topic was unnerving. "He follows you. You, or something about you, binds him to the earth."
Karigan paled. She had heard stories, of course, of dead relatives visiting those still alive and loved. There were many tales of spirits haunting buildings in Selium, but she had never given them much credence.
"Now you've gone and done it, Bay. You've upset the child."
"H-how do you see this spirit?" Karigan asked.
"Quite simply, the same way we see you." Bunch twisted her teacup in her hand. "He wears green and has black hair hanging to his shoulders. Two black-shafted arrows protrude from a blood-dampened back that will not dry."
"He calls himself F'ryan Coblebay," Miss Bayberry said.
Karigan's hands trembled. How could they know what he looked like or how he had died unless… unless they really could see him? They could have gotten his name off the love letter which had still been in the pocket of the greatcoat… The greatcoat had disappeared from the bathing room with the rest of her clothes.
Miss Bayberry placed a comforting hand on Karigan's wrist. "Not to worry, dear. Master Coblebay is only trying to watch over you, to see that his mission is carried out. After that, he will pass on. As it is, he tends to fade in and out. His link with that which is