The Language of Ghosts by Heather Fawcett

Author:Heather Fawcett
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Balzer + Bray
Published: 2020-08-11T00:00:00+00:00

15

Tomas’s Biggest Fan Strikes Again

Noa rose before the sun. She dressed quickly in the darkness, then slipped out of the castle through an unguarded back corridor, pausing only to grab a cake (caramel apple) and a piece of dried fish.

Julian thought they were going to have another lesson that morning. But Noa had no intention of being there. When Julian came looking for her, she would be far, far away. Her lesson yesterday had given her an idea, one that Julian wouldn’t like one bit.

Tomas was waiting for her by the cove where they’d met Beauty, just as he’d promised when she went to see him yesterday. He had the wagon again, covered with a blanket. When he saw Noa, he started.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Noa said with a snort.

“Have I?” Tomas’s gaze darted left and right. “Have you brought one with you?”

“Why would I bring a ghost? They’re not dogs.”

Tomas rubbed his face. He gave her a look that Noa recognized—it was how he looked at Julian.

“What, are you afraid of me now?” Noa asked, pleased.

“Well, yes,” Tomas said. “People in the village are saying you can summon ghosts just by whistling, and kill a man by tossing your hair over your shoulder.”

Noa liked the sound of that, but she shook her head. “So far, I only know how to get attacked by ghosts and make weeds jiggle.” She added, “You don’t have to tell anyone that.”

Tomas sighed. He drew back the blanket, revealing another huge cake, lemon-lime again. “I hope I don’t have to tell you how difficult it is to keep my father from guessing who these cakes are for. I’ve tried saying they’re for the king’s dragon, but—” The rest of the sentence was overtaken by a scream as Beauty lunged from the water and snatched up the cake, nearly taking Tomas’s arm with it.

Noa marched up to the water’s edge. “Beauty! You have to stop doing that.”

The sound of gnashing teeth and a horrible snort was her only reply.

“I have another question,” Noa said.

“Mmm. I’m all ears, dear,” replied the serpent’s voice from the darkness. Noa could barely make out her enormous silhouette against the predawn sky. “You’ve earned it. Or, rather, your talented friend has. He outdid himself this time.”

Tomas was blushing. Before they could get into baking techniques, Noa said, “I want to know about death mages. Tell me how they moved through the Beyond.”

“Do I look like a mage?” Beauty spoke around the mouthful of cake, though she covered her mouth politely with her tail. “That’s a question for dear Julian.”

“No,” Noa said. “All the books about death mages were destroyed. Nobody knows what their powers are, or how they use them. But you said you were alive when Evert was turned inside out. That means you were alive when there were still death mages. And I’m willing to bet you know a thing or two about their powers, given how much you love spying on people.”

Beauty let out a low chuckle and crooned, “Clever, clever little Marchena.

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