The Death of Yorik Mortwell

Yes, said the hare, but its voice was strained. Yorik sensed another presence, and then another, three in all, gathered outside the topiary garden.

A tremble raced through the branches of the hare. We must leave for now, it said. As must you.

As Yorik watched, the starlight in the hare’s eyes faded. He turned to the other animals. The lion, elephant, and swan were motionless, back in their places, no longer bowing toward the mound.

The muttering grew louder. Ghost—the dark voices began, but Yorik did not pause to listen. He raced from the garden with all the swiftness of wind.

Back in the one-room cabin, he pondered the words of the wise and dignified hare, who believed that protecting Susan would protect them all. He thought of the terrified horses, the hounds who guarded the Manor, the Princess, Erde, Master Thomas, and Susan.

Is not the fate of one bound to the fate of all?

If that was true, then he had to find a way to protect them all.

Yorik could see that the dismal cabin was falling to ruin, soon to be reclaimed by the forest. He looked at the cold ashes in the fireplace, and for a moment he could see three people there: Father, himself, and Susan, laughing and playing as a warm fire blazed.

He shook his head and turned away. That world was gone.

He walked outside, looked at the cabin for the last time, then strode off toward the Manor.

Chapter Six

As Yorik walked down the carriage path, he recalled what Mr. Lucian had said: Ye seek revenge. At first that had been true. But no longer.

Pale Moon Luna had set hours ago. Even with Yorik’s ghost eyes, the world around him seemed sunk into a well of black. Silence was heavy over all the thousands of acres of Ravenby Estate, its four great hills, its innumerable trees. The only sounds came when he passed the mews. Inside he could hear the falcons stirring, unsettled and anxious.

Then he heard a voice.

“Yorik, dear Yorik.” It was a girl’s voice, high and laughing and pretty.

Yorik looked around. The voice seemed to float from a distance. Nearby there was a stone arch, with a little path of trampled dirt going under it. Yorik followed the path into a small clear space, like a bubble carved out of the dense bushes and trees. In the bubble was an old marble bench, and on the bench sat a girl.

“Mistress Doris,” Yorik breathed. He automatically bowed.

Mistress Doris had been dead for years, but she had been older than Yorik when she’d died, so now they were nearly the same age. She wore one of her beautiful dresses, and had an expensive hat and perfect shoes. She patted the bench beside her and giggled. “Dear Yorik, I’m not your mistress any longer. Sit beside me.”

Yorik sat awkwardly on the stone bench. “I was sorry when you died,” he said haltingly.

It was true. Mistress Doris had not been a friend exactly. But she had been the terror of the Ravenby family, and part of being the terror of the Ravenbys involved consorting with children like Yorik and Susan. She stole things from the Manor and distributed them to servants, who dutifully returned them. She broke things; she escaped at night; she fought the other noble children who came to visit. And then curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she had gone to look at plague victims, and caught the plague herself, and died.

“Well.” Doris smiled. “I’m not sorry you died. Now we can have terrific fun together.”

“I can’t have fun,” explained Yorik. “I have to protect Susan. She’s working in the Manor kitchens, and —”

Mistress Doris waved her hand. “Yes, you need to protect her from my horrid brother, don’t you? He murdered you, and no doubt he will gladly murder your sister too.”

Yorik gaped. “I don’t think—” He was not sure what to say. He didn’t think Master Thomas would deliberately murder Susan. Would he?

“Yes,” said Mistress Doris. “To keep your murder a secret, he might do anything. He is a horrible, bad, evil little boy. He must be punished.” She giggled. “Now we shall punish him. But first we must get past those demons that guard the Manor. Do you know how to do that, Yorik?”

“Y-yes,” said Yorik, hesitant. “I think I do, now.”

“Mmm,” sighed Doris happily. “Then you can get me past them as well, can’t you?”

Yorik was silent for a long time. He looked at Doris, who smiled beatifically.

“The hare said—” he began.

“The hare lies,” Mistress Doris interrupted. “It is a demon, and so are those two creatures in the aviary glade. They must be punished along with Thomas. Now you must take me past those guardians.”

“I don’t think I should do that,” Yorik said.

Doris’s smile vanished. “Those demons are keeping you from your sister. And just look what they did to me.”

She showed her ankle. In the ghostly skin, Yorik could see two throbbing bite marks, glowing angry green.

“The hounds are guarding the Manor from the Dark Ones,” said Yorik.

Doris bared her teeth. “You don’t have a choice, boy. I order you to take me past the demons.”

Boy? Doris had never spoken to him that way before. “I don’t serve Family any longer,” he replied.

Mistress Doris’s face went white. “You are a servant and always will be. You will get me past those demons and we will finish my naughty brother.”

“No,” said Yorik, confused. Doris and Thomas had fought incessantly, he remembered. But Doris would not have hurt her brother.

Doris inched closer. “You know what happened last time you disobeyed a Family command.” Yorik watched her eyes cloud over and then swirl away into empty voids of deepest dark.

“Yes,” he said, staring straight into the voids. “But I don’t think you’re really Family.”

Mistress Doris scrambled up to Yorik until her furious white face was only inches from his. “Yesss,” she hissed. “I’m Missstresss Dorisss.”

“No, you’re not,” he said clearly. “I can see things as they are now. And you’re not really Doris.”

“Ifff I’m not Fffamily,” she whispered, “then what am I?”

Yorik remembered seeing that emptiness before, in the darkness of the water garden and the trees beyond the topiaries. He looked at the glowing bite marks on Doris’s ankle. “You’re a Dark One,” he said.

The thing gave a harsh chuckle. Not ONE, it rasped. MANY.

Mistress Doris’s face became dry and hollow. The skin smeared and faded. And just before the image of the girl disappeared, those black void eyes cleared and became a girl’s again, and a tiny, distant voice, the voice of Mistress Doris, pleaded, “Yorik—help me!”

Then she was gone.

In her place sat several things, or not-things, presences that were there and not there. There were more than he had sensed before—perhaps five. They were each a little blob of midnight, plump like large pears. He saw that there were a few more up in the trees, squatting on branches. They did not seem to have eyes or any other features, but Yorik sensed that all of them were looking at him, and in that look he sensed a vast, terrifying hunger.

Revenge, they chorused. Two Dark Ones dropped from a tree and slid closer to Yorik.

“No,” said Yorik, leaping up.

The two stopped. Revenge, they said in their rasping whine. Revenge