Haunted
Page 65
—"
"No, tell me the monster one."
He glanced over his shoulder at me.
"Oh, come on," I said. "Unless you can teleport us over to the castle, we have another mile to walk. I've spent ten hours sitting with Lizzie Borden. Entertain me. Please."
He smiled. "All right, then. But I warn you, storytelling is definitely not an area of angel expertise. So, how to start… hmmm."
"Once upon a time?"
He shot me a look. "Even I can do better than that. Let's see…" He cleared his throat. "No castle would be a proper castle without a secret room or two. Glamis being a castle among castles, has three. There's the one where Earl Beardie spends eternity playing cards with the Devil. And there's the one where a Lord Glamis walled up a band of Ogilvies. But the best, and most… bone-chilling-est, is the one that contains the cursed Glamis monster."
"Oooh, I love a good curse."
"You want to tell the story?"
I grinned. "Sorry. Please continue."
"Well, legend has it that the Glamis family is cursed, as all the best families are. That curse was born, quite literally, in the form of a child. The first son born to the eleventh earl, a child so deformed, so hideous that every wet nurse brought to his crib took one look and the milk dried up in her breast."
"Really?"
"No, but the story's a bit short, and we still have a half-mile to go. I'm livening it up. Now shush."
"Sorry."
"The worst of it, though, was that the family was doomed to care for this child, not only through his lifetime, but for eternity because he was immortal. So they locked him up in a secret room, and it became the duty of each succeeding generation to care for him, and to keep him a secret from all, even those they loved. However, the bonds of matrimony permit no room for secrets, and one enterprising young Lady Glamis grew weary of hearing these rumors and not knowing the truth behind them. One night, while her husband was away, she held a dinner party, and conveyed an ingenious plan to her guests. They would take towels and hang them from each window of the castle. They did. Then they went outside and circled the castle, looking for the window with no towel, for this would be the secret room. And there it was, high up on the third floor. A tiny window… with no towel. So Lady Glamis rushed into the castle, up the stairs, down the hall, and threw open the door of the room nearest the secret one. Then she knocked along the wall, listening for the hollow spot where a hidden door might be. She knocked once, took a step, knocked again, took a step, knocked a third time… and something within knocked back."
Trsiel stepped onto the winding drive, and kept walking.
"Then what?" I said finally.
"Well, that's it. According to legend, before she could investigate further, her husband came home, found out what she'd done, and gave her hell. Soon after that, she left him."
"I don't blame her. But it's still a lousy ending."
"You want me to do better?"
"Please."
He gave a deep sigh. "The things I'm asked to do on this mission. Okay, better ending coming up. So…
something within knocked back. Then, at a noise behind her, Lady Glamis turned to see her husband there. In his hand was a rusted metal key. He grabbed her, but before she could cry out for help, the secret door sprang open. A horrible moan came from within. Lady Glamis screamed then, screamed as loud as she could, but Lord Glamis shoved her through the door, slammed it shut, and locked her inside
—locked forever with the monster, there to serve him for all eternity."
I lifted a brow. "Serve him how?"
He looked at me, then sputtered a laugh. "Not like that! This is a G-rated ghost story, woman. Don't be messing with it."
"A G-rated story? About taking some deformed baby and locking him up? And if it was true, and this poor guy had been locked up in there for decades, and someone threw in a perfectly good woman, what the hell do you think he'd do with her? Play Parcheesi?"
"You've corrupted my story."
"Believe me, it was corrupted long before I got hold of it."
As we rounded the corner, I looked up and stopped. Looming above us, embraced by threads of fog, was Glamis Castle.
"Holy shit," I whispered. "You know, when I hear stories like that, about hidden rooms, I always think they're obviously bullshit. How can you have a room and not know about it? But with a place like this…
? I bet you could have a dozen of them." I looked the castle over again. "It's supposed to be haunted?
Doesn't surprise me. Hell, I wouldn't mind hanging out here for a while. Is there a dungeon?"
"No, just a crypt."
"That'll do. But I don't see the Nix as the sightseeing type. She's after something here, but there's a hell of a lot of here to search. Did Sullivan's vision give you any clues?"
"Just random snippets of various castle rooms."
"Like she was looking for something."
He nodded. "And I suspect she's come and gone."
"Meaning we're probably looking, not for the Nix, but for what drew her here. Could be a wild-goose chase. But if the castle's haunted, then it's likely related to—"
"Well, that's the thing. It isn't haunted."
"Huh?"
"One hundred percent spook-free."
I frowned. "Places this old are always haunted. Maybe not 'moaning specters and clanging chains'
haunted, but with real ghosts. The ones caught between dimensions and the ones who just like to soak up a little spooky atmosphere."
"Normally that's true. But not here."
"Why not?"
Trsiel shook his head. "I have no idea. One of the ascendeds was assigned to investigate it last century, but then something more important came up, and he was never sent back. Nothing bad ever happens here. No unexplained murders. No demonic activity. No real reason to investigate further. If haunters don't want to set up shop here, well, that's not a bad thing. We have enough trouble with them as it is."
"But something must make this place unpopular with ghosts. And maybe that something has to do with the Nix's visit."
We slid into the castle through a side wall, emerging in a huge dining room with a table set for twelve and portraits lining the paneled walls.
"No, tell me the monster one."
He glanced over his shoulder at me.
"Oh, come on," I said. "Unless you can teleport us over to the castle, we have another mile to walk. I've spent ten hours sitting with Lizzie Borden. Entertain me. Please."
He smiled. "All right, then. But I warn you, storytelling is definitely not an area of angel expertise. So, how to start… hmmm."
"Once upon a time?"
He shot me a look. "Even I can do better than that. Let's see…" He cleared his throat. "No castle would be a proper castle without a secret room or two. Glamis being a castle among castles, has three. There's the one where Earl Beardie spends eternity playing cards with the Devil. And there's the one where a Lord Glamis walled up a band of Ogilvies. But the best, and most… bone-chilling-est, is the one that contains the cursed Glamis monster."
"Oooh, I love a good curse."
"You want to tell the story?"
I grinned. "Sorry. Please continue."
"Well, legend has it that the Glamis family is cursed, as all the best families are. That curse was born, quite literally, in the form of a child. The first son born to the eleventh earl, a child so deformed, so hideous that every wet nurse brought to his crib took one look and the milk dried up in her breast."
"Really?"
"No, but the story's a bit short, and we still have a half-mile to go. I'm livening it up. Now shush."
"Sorry."
"The worst of it, though, was that the family was doomed to care for this child, not only through his lifetime, but for eternity because he was immortal. So they locked him up in a secret room, and it became the duty of each succeeding generation to care for him, and to keep him a secret from all, even those they loved. However, the bonds of matrimony permit no room for secrets, and one enterprising young Lady Glamis grew weary of hearing these rumors and not knowing the truth behind them. One night, while her husband was away, she held a dinner party, and conveyed an ingenious plan to her guests. They would take towels and hang them from each window of the castle. They did. Then they went outside and circled the castle, looking for the window with no towel, for this would be the secret room. And there it was, high up on the third floor. A tiny window… with no towel. So Lady Glamis rushed into the castle, up the stairs, down the hall, and threw open the door of the room nearest the secret one. Then she knocked along the wall, listening for the hollow spot where a hidden door might be. She knocked once, took a step, knocked again, took a step, knocked a third time… and something within knocked back."
Trsiel stepped onto the winding drive, and kept walking.
"Then what?" I said finally.
"Well, that's it. According to legend, before she could investigate further, her husband came home, found out what she'd done, and gave her hell. Soon after that, she left him."
"I don't blame her. But it's still a lousy ending."
"You want me to do better?"
"Please."
He gave a deep sigh. "The things I'm asked to do on this mission. Okay, better ending coming up. So…
something within knocked back. Then, at a noise behind her, Lady Glamis turned to see her husband there. In his hand was a rusted metal key. He grabbed her, but before she could cry out for help, the secret door sprang open. A horrible moan came from within. Lady Glamis screamed then, screamed as loud as she could, but Lord Glamis shoved her through the door, slammed it shut, and locked her inside
—locked forever with the monster, there to serve him for all eternity."
I lifted a brow. "Serve him how?"
He looked at me, then sputtered a laugh. "Not like that! This is a G-rated ghost story, woman. Don't be messing with it."
"A G-rated story? About taking some deformed baby and locking him up? And if it was true, and this poor guy had been locked up in there for decades, and someone threw in a perfectly good woman, what the hell do you think he'd do with her? Play Parcheesi?"
"You've corrupted my story."
"Believe me, it was corrupted long before I got hold of it."
As we rounded the corner, I looked up and stopped. Looming above us, embraced by threads of fog, was Glamis Castle.
"Holy shit," I whispered. "You know, when I hear stories like that, about hidden rooms, I always think they're obviously bullshit. How can you have a room and not know about it? But with a place like this…
? I bet you could have a dozen of them." I looked the castle over again. "It's supposed to be haunted?
Doesn't surprise me. Hell, I wouldn't mind hanging out here for a while. Is there a dungeon?"
"No, just a crypt."
"That'll do. But I don't see the Nix as the sightseeing type. She's after something here, but there's a hell of a lot of here to search. Did Sullivan's vision give you any clues?"
"Just random snippets of various castle rooms."
"Like she was looking for something."
He nodded. "And I suspect she's come and gone."
"Meaning we're probably looking, not for the Nix, but for what drew her here. Could be a wild-goose chase. But if the castle's haunted, then it's likely related to—"
"Well, that's the thing. It isn't haunted."
"Huh?"
"One hundred percent spook-free."
I frowned. "Places this old are always haunted. Maybe not 'moaning specters and clanging chains'
haunted, but with real ghosts. The ones caught between dimensions and the ones who just like to soak up a little spooky atmosphere."
"Normally that's true. But not here."
"Why not?"
Trsiel shook his head. "I have no idea. One of the ascendeds was assigned to investigate it last century, but then something more important came up, and he was never sent back. Nothing bad ever happens here. No unexplained murders. No demonic activity. No real reason to investigate further. If haunters don't want to set up shop here, well, that's not a bad thing. We have enough trouble with them as it is."
"But something must make this place unpopular with ghosts. And maybe that something has to do with the Nix's visit."
We slid into the castle through a side wall, emerging in a huge dining room with a table set for twelve and portraits lining the paneled walls.
