Emma and the Weeping Spirit Read online

  Emma and the Weeping Spirit

  Tales of Widowswood Book 5

  Matthew S. Cox

  Emma and the Weeping Spirit

  Tales of Widowswood Book 5

  © 2017 Matthew S. Cox

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to actual persons, places, or mysterious ghosts is coincidental. No portion of this book may be reproduced without permission from the author.

  Cover and interior art by Ricky Gunawan - https://www.deviantart.com/goweliang

  ISBN (eBook): 978-1-949174-80-9

  ISBN (Print): 978-1-949174-81-6

  Contents

  1. A Day in Two Hours

  2. Mouse and Hawk

  3. Swords and Charms

  4. Naraja’s Gift

  5. Mythandriel’s Light

  6. A Change of Law

  7. Bad Dreams

  8. Finery

  9. Knaves and Warnings

  10. Dark Deeds

  11. The Father’s Side

  12. The Weeping Ghost

  13. Raspberry Toast

  14. Calebrin City

  15. Warning

  16. Going Home

  17. A Few More Days

  18. Telling Stories

  19. Ten Years Older

  20. Firesnap Oil

  21. Common

  22. The Walls Have Ears

  23. Ill Company

  24. A Dinner Most Uncomfortable

  25. Dark Whispers

  26. The Three Skulls

  27. Breaking the Spell

  28. A Change of Attire

  29. Family Secrets

  30. Family Curse

  31. Flower Girls

  32. Hearth and Home

  More Fantasy for younger readers

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Other books by Matthew S. Cox

  1

  A Day in Two Hours

  Satisfied, Emma smiled to herself while washing plates from the morning meal. It had been four days since anyone transformed into a giant potato or swelled up like an over-ripe tomato. Neither Alan nor his mother had shown themselves again, save for the mule-headed boy appearing hours ago in a nightmare. Hee-hawing urgently, he’d chased her into the woods.

  In her dream, the forest had shifted to a hedge maze, complete with distorted faces of round-chinned men emerging from the greenery to sneeze tomatoes at her. She’d managed to leave Alan behind—and get herself quite lost—before stumbling into a square chamber where a ghostly woman knelt upon the ground. No sooner had Emma laid eyes on her, the spirit turned and called her by name.

  Emma had somehow managed not to scream while sitting up in bed, clutching her chest. Neither Kimber nor Tam had stirred, though an odd sense that more than her two siblings had been there kept her awake for a while more. With her parents in a separate bedroom, her fear had melted to sadness at not having Mama in arms’ reach to comfort her after such a frightening dream. Rather than wake them, she’d clung to Kimber, who didn’t so much as stir. The girl could sleep through an Orc skald attempting to play the accordion.

  Emma paused scrubbing long enough to tend to an itch on her nose with her shoulder. I wonder if Nan released the curse yet?

  Still, one bad dream aside, the past few days had brought calm back to Widowswood Town. Pelinor kept his word, mending his fireplace, and the effects of his leaked potion errors had subsided. Less whimsical damage had occurred, primarily a large number of crops affected by tainted water. Nan had again gone out to help, using her magic to regrow vegetables and grains most of the town’s farmers had burned for fear of wild magic.

  With a broad smile, Emma handed a plate to Kimber who grasped it in a towel. The girl still had no idea she’d served as a nightmare-destroying ragdoll the previous night, and grinned back at her. After the meal, Tam pestered Da for a replacement wooden sword. Nan had taken away his old one since the mad alchemist had accidentally enchanted it into a dangerous weapon. The boy walked off with a mixed expression. Da’s promise to replace it made him want to cheer, but having to send for one from Calebrin (at least a week’s wait if not more) left him wanting to cry. Tam wound up doing neither and trudged over to the right side of the house, where the family bed once stood. He flopped on the rug by the two big chairs, balanced his chin on both hands, and stared glumness at the door.

  “You’as ’fink ae ’chantment inna sword last fer’ever?” whispered Kimber, working the towel around the plate before setting it in the cabinet.

  Emma, elbow deep in a basin of water, shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s not our kind of magic.” She put a finger to her lip. “I suppose we could take it to Queen Nymira and ask.”

  “Ooo!” Kimber bounced on her toes.

  “Em, you shouldn’t bother them with such trifles.” Mama glided in from the back hallway with a kettle of water. “Easy enough to replace it.”

  Kimber stared down.

  “Well, then I suppose we’ll have to visit for tea then.” Emma handed over another plate.

  Silent, Kimber again bounced on her toes, clutching the plate in the towel while beaming.

  Mama smiled, crossed the room, and poured the water into the cauldron hanging in the fireplace.

  “Nan makin’ stew?” asked Kimber.

  “I’m planning to make a soup.” Mama glanced at Emma. “Do you object to tomatoes?”

  Emma cringed. “Only if they came out of someone’s nose.”

  Kimber stared at her, mouth slightly open, eyebrows creeping together. Her confusion only deepened when Mama laughed and took the empty kettle out back to collect more water.

  “Wha?” Kimber turned her head to stare at Mama until she disappeared into the rear hall. She spun back to face Emma. “Out ae nose? Tomato nae fit out ae nose.”

  “That wild magic made Mister Orl sneeze tomatoes. They flew so fast they hurt like a slap when they hit me.”

  Kimber blinked once, stared at her blank-faced for a moment more, then giggled.

  Three heavy knocks came from the front door, startling Emma.

  “Mrs. Dalen?” asked Guard Haim.

  Emma backed away from the basin, slinging her arms to dry them somewhat, and walked around the table to the door. Two trails of soapy water ran down the wood from the knob as she opened it. A large, ginger-haired man smiled down at her. The brown leather of his brigandine coat radiated a strong, pleasant smell, suggesting he had recently oiled it. Tam crept closer, leaning to the side to stare at the broadsword hung from the guard’s belt.

  “Oy, Em. Is yer mama about?”

  “Yes, she’s right out back collecting water.” Emma twisted to face the short hall leading to the open back door, and raised her voice. “Mama?”

  The pump handle clattered. Mama appeared soon after, hurrying over. Emma smiled at Haim and returned to the basin of water to scrub the last plate.

  “Pardon the bother, Missus,” said Guard Haim. “A young lad’s just run in from Norlach. Says a fella by the name’a Shaw’s been ’urt all grievous like. Not ’spected ta survive wi’out yer kind o’ help.”

  Mama’s expression became grim. “How long ago was the man injured? Norlach’s not a short walk from here.”

  “Best I can say is sometime late yesterday. The lad’s run all night. We’ve got him at Eoghn’s, gettin’ water in ’im an’ some food if he’ll ’ave it. Poor lad’s clapped out.”

  “All right. No need to rush the boy. I’ll—” Mama looked around, grumbling at Nan’s absence. “We’ll be off in a moment. Tell Liam, will you? My mother’s out tending to fields, and I’ll not leave the little ones alone all day.”

  Emma’s heart sank. Her scrubbing hand
slowed on the plate. Had Mama ceased trusting her?

  “Will do, Missus.” Haim nodded before hurrying off.

  Mama rushed to the cabinet and selected two brown potions from a cluster of bottles. She made sure Da had at least one of those each day he left for his duty with the Watch. “I see that look, Em. It’s something to say to keep your father calm. I thought you’d like to come along to learn a bit, and I can’t leave our little knight on his own yet.”

  “Yes, Mama.” Emma abandoned her disappointment and smiled.

  Kimber appeared to take her lack of being mentioned to mean Mama would’ve trusted her on her own, and also grinned. Then again, everyone in the room (including Kimber) knew she hated being alone. “We’as goin’ tae Norlach? Tha’as ’ways up nor’west by a lake.”

  “That’s right.” Mama opened one of the flasks and divided its contents among three of the tiny glasses Da sometimes drank from. “Usually, it would take all day to walk there, but Naraja should help us.”

  Emma cringed. Whenever Da drank from those tiny cups, he’d wince after every sip. Hopefully, the potion wouldn’t taste as bad as whatever Da put in them. She handed the plate to Kimber, then hauled the washbasin up, grunting while lugging it out back. After pouring the dirty water off the end of the porch into thick grass, she ran back inside.

  Kimber and Tam had put on their cloaks. Mama handed Emma’s to her, as well as one of the small cups.

  “It’s a Bear’s Blood potion. We’ve a long walk ahead of us, and this will keep us from growing tired. And no, there’s no blood in it. Merely a name.” Mama winked, and drank the potion she hadn’t split into three smaller portions.

  Emma gulped it down without hesitating. A thick, syrupy concoction flooded her senses with a mixture of cinnamon and wood smoke. She made a face at the flavor. It didn’t taste bad, but she couldn’t call it pleasant either. Kimber gave her cup a confused glance.

  Tam stuck out his tongue, smacking his lips a few times. “It tastes like the floor.”

  “Burlbark,” muttered Emma. “It’s from the burlbark.”

  Mama gave her a proud smile and pulled on her cloak. She took a step for the door, but doubled back to the cabinet to grab a huge jar of glittery salt, which she packed in her satchel with a few other potions. Once they all gathered outside, she grasped Emma’s and Kimber’s hands. Emma clasped her little brother’s hand.

  “Naraja, I ask of thee your aid. Guide us to Norlach with haste,” said Mama.

  A faint cougar-like growl came from somewhere behind and above. Starting from where Mama held her hand, a magical tingle washed over Emma. When the feeling hit her right hand, Tam shivered.

  “Don’t let go,” said Mama, “or you’ll fall out of the spell be get left behind.”

  The kids nodded.

  Mama walked a few steps east, but rather than following the road toward the town center, she took the corner at the end of the house and proceeded into the meadow, heading north.

  Forest and grass blurred into a shimmer of green and sunlight. Emma’s legs moved at the pace of a brisk walk, but the world raced by faster than it ought to have. Sometimes, the touch of grass beneath her steps happened when she expected dirt. What her eyes told her often disagreed with what her feet said they stepped on. Strong wind kept her hair flying behind her, the only sensation that appeared true to the speed with which they traveled.

  Kimber laughed and rolled her head side to side, letting the breeze play with her hair. Tam kept quiet, his eyes huge. He couldn’t seem to decide between staring at the forest or straight ahead, and with each passing minute, his grip on her hand tightened.

  A little while after leaving home, Mama guided them to the right. Two horses and a man rushed past on the left at a speed like a hawk diving for its dinner. By the time Emma twisted her head to look after them, they’d already gone far enough that the horses appeared tiny.

  After more than an hour of watching forest race by on the left and a dizzying blur of shifting grass everywhere else, Emma spared a glance down at her feet. The odd sensation of having tired legs yet more energy than she knew what to do with made her fidgety. At the same time, she wanted to sit and rest from walking, but also, the urge to run around in circles and climb things frustrated her. The potion had filled her with so much energy she needed to let it out. Tam gave her a pleading look, most likely from experiencing the same strange combination of feelings. Kimber’s amusement with the wind had faded a while ago. She shared Mama’s expression of determination, and at times appeared as though she wanted to go even faster.

  Emma tried to ask how much longer, but got a mouthful of wind that made her choke. She turned her head toward Mama to keep the breeze out of her face. “How much longer is it?”

  “Not long,” said Mama, her voice a shout that barely overpowered the rush of the gale.

  She nodded, shaking her head side to side to move her hair out of her eyes. With one hand in Mama’s grip, the other holding tight to Tam, she couldn’t attend to a sudden itch on her side. She made a few passing attempts to scratch it with her elbow, but prodding herself only made the itch worse. A short while later, the odd shimmery blur in the surroundings ceased.

  Grass at her feet brushed cool against her skin, the blades broader than by her home, a touch of blue in the darker green. Pale spots resolved out of the rapid-motion smear into goats and sheep. The meadow continued downhill ahead toward a melon-shaped lake fed by an offshoot of the Anthe River, which ran through the center of Andorath, heading generally southeast. Sun sparkles danced over the deep blue water, making it painful to look at. A cluster of huts and a few dirt roads formed a tangle at the southernmost point of the lake. At the center of the village stood a stone hall, which dwarfed the surrounding homes.

  Sensing the magic responsible for their rapid travel no longer remained, Emma tugged at her left arm. Mama released her grip long enough for a much-needed scratch. Tam let out a moan and rubbed his thighs.

  Emma thought back to the ‘tree gate’ Nan used in the Faerie Realm. “Would the magic Nan used that we walked into the tree have been faster?”

  “Yes, it would have… but it is far more tiring for me to use. I don’t know how badly this man has been hurt, and it wouldn’t have helped to exhaust myself coming here and lack the energy to assist him. I’m not quite as old as Nan. She calls the elder magic like it’s nothing.” Mama winked. “And the forest here has dangers I’d sooner avoid with you three along.”

  “Wha’ kin’ o’ dangers?” asked Kimber.

  Mama tugged them along down the gentle slope. “A few things that aren’t quite animals and aren’t quite bandits. Cockatrices, Valek, and such.”

  “What’s a Valek?” Tam looked up, while reaching for the wooden sword he didn’t carry.

  “A big snake,” said Mama. “With wings. They’re dreadfully arrogant.”

  “They’as talk?” asked Kimber.

  “Yes. They’re not really animals. Magical creatures.” Mama tugged them along. “We should hurry.”

  They headed down the hill and into the lakeside village. People going about their daily routines paused to look at them, the majority offering friendly waves. A number of men in basic leather armor carried weapons ranging from old-looking longswords to crude hammers or maces. They patrolled the village, mostly on the western side nearest the forest. Many had bandages on their arms or legs, bloody cloth wrapped most of one man’s head, but none looked in any danger of imminent death.

  “What happened to them?” asked Emma. “Was there a war?”

  Mama kept walking toward the largest building other than the great hall. She eyed one or two of the town’s defenders on the way. “Something probably came out of the woods.”

  “A valek?” asked Tam.

  “Doubtful. Those creatures wouldn’t bother with a peasant village, and they wouldn’t leave the forest without a good reason. They like to hide in the trees for protection.”

  Mama came to a stop in front of a wide woo
den building with an entrance big enough for a horse drawn wagon. Racks of smoked fish flanked the double doors, filling the air with their overwhelming fragrance. Kimber covered her nose with both hands. Emma coughed. The smell had punch, but not as much as walking into Marsten’s shop. A muddy path led from in front of the building to an area by the lakeshore where a rack of small two-person boats stood near a smoke shack. Several men inside murmured with each other, discussing fishing, but their conversation trailed off.

  A wide-bodied man with a deep tan and blond hair pointed at them. “Got visitors, Fen.”

  Mama stopped a few paces away from the door and waved.

  A man emerged from the building, fringes of white over his ears in his otherwise black hair. He looked noticeably older than Da, with strong arms and a belly that pressed his fine grey tunic taut across his middle. “Ahh, Bethany, good of you to come. You’re rather early.”

  “Fenton.” Mama nodded. “A boy arrived in Widowswood with a message about a man’s been hurt?”

  “Oh, of course. Yes.” Fenton pointed to the west, nearer the forest. “Shaw. One of the militia. Somethin’ got a hold of ’im near the woods. Ripped him up but good.”

  “I hope I am not too late.”

  “I haven’t ’eard anything to suggest that.” Fenton raised his arm in that direction. “Sixth hut up, one wit’ the black rooster in the window.”

  Mama nodded. “I’ll return as soon as I can.”

  “Most kind of ya.” Fenton smiled at the kids.