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Chapter Forty-Three

W hit sprang out of bed when he heard a yelp followed by a loud clatter. He rushed downstairs, not attempting to be quiet in his haste. He didn’t know what time it was, but it was still fully dark.

“Clover?” he called, trying to figure out exactly where she was. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said from the kitchen. “I’m fine.”

He raced down the hall. As he turned the corner, he found her mopping up a puddle of water with a dishtowel.

“What happened?” he asked, picking up the small saucepan from the floor and putting it on the counter.

She sighed heavily. “I couldn’t sleep, so I came down to make some tea. I guess something startled me, and I dropped the pot. Thankfully, it was still cold.”

Glancing around the kitchen, Whit caught Great-Uncle Andri peeking at them from the dining room.

Grabbing another dishtowel from the drawer, he knelt down to help her mop. “I’m sorry about that. The ghosts always get a little riled up when there are kids around. They must have really liked having Crane here.”

“I didn’t know that,” she muttered. “But it hasn’t just been tonight. Am I imagining things? I feel like I haven’t slept well since my first night here.”

Clover moved to the sink to wring the water from the towel, and Whit followed suit.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked gently. Does she not trust me to take care of it?

She shrugged, lowering her eyes to her bare feet. “I thought I was just psyching myself out. I didn’t want to burden you. I mean, what would you even do about it? The only good night’s sleep I’ve had is when I fell asleep with you. I felt bad enough about that already. You clearly didn’t want me there… You wouldn’t have given me a separate room if you did.”

Whit sighed, running his hand through his hair. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her in his bed. It was that she didn’t belong there. “You aren’t psyching yourself out. There have been ghosts present since you arrived. They don’t usually hang around so constantly. I thought they were just curious about you, and they would lose interest. And you were so scared that I didn’t want to confirm it for you.”

“Well, at least I’m not losing my mind,” Clover remarked.

Whit shook his head. “You aren’t. Here, maybe this will help. Give me your hand.”

She slipped her hand into the one he offered her. Smiling softly, she said, “I do feel a little better already.”

His pulse quickened at her words, but he pushed that awareness to the side. “Uncle Andri”—Whit turned his head toward the doorway to the dining room—“would you come in here please?”

Great-Uncle Andri sauntered into the room, smirking.

Whit tightened his grip on Clover’s hand.

“Spirits of the dead,

spirits I see,

this second sight

I share with thee.”

Clover blinked rapidly, likely clearing the fog from her eyes.

“It won’t last very long, but take a look.” Whit gestured toward Uncle Andri.

Clover gasped, squeezing his hand by reflex. “Oh my gods, he looks just like a person standing there.”

Whit snorted. “What should he look like?”

“I don’t know. I guess, I assumed ghosts would be transparent or gross looking or something.”

Whit shook his head. “Nope. They look just the same as you and me. This is my Great-Uncle Andri. He’s a bit of a mischief maker just as he was in life.”

Uncle Andri bowed his head in greeting.

“Hello,” Clover said. “So you’re the one who hasn’t let me sleep.”

Uncle Andri grinned, not at all remorseful for his actions.

Clover chuckled. “I’ve met people like you before. Pulling pranks is a great pastime in the summer faction.”

Uncle Andri didn’t look pleased at the comparison.

“Now that you see the culprit with your own eyes, do you feel less afraid?” Whit asked.

Clover smiled up at him. “Yes, thank you.”

“Good.” Whit released her hand.

“Can I ask you a question?”

He nodded, covering his mouth as he yawned.

“If ghosts look like regular people, how can you tell the difference?”

Whit shrugged. “You just sort of know, especially if you’ve grown up seeing them.”

“Have you seen them your whole life, then?”

“Yes.”

“Did they ever scare you?”

“Not really, no. Sometimes they pop out at you, and that can be startling. But that happens with living people, too.”

Clover quirked her mouth. “Can all winter sorcerers and witches see ghosts?”

“Most can. Most children in general can. I think that’s why ghosts like being around them. The winter faction is just taught to hold on to that innate ability.”

Clover nodded slowly, her eyes unfocused in thought. “That’s not much different from the summer faction and the Good Neighbors. Although, whether or not we see them has a lot to do with if they want to be seen. Can you see them as well?”

“No. We try to stay as far from the Other Crowd as possible.”

Clover huffed a laugh. “Good luck with that. They go where they please.”

“Well, we have no dealings with them, and we’re liberal with how much iron we have around our houses.”

Clover tilted her head. “But iron doesn’t deter all of them. For instance, house spirits are used to living with humans. They aren’t affected by iron. You even have a house spirit here. I won’t disclose her real name as that’s between us, but I call her Marigold. I made an offering to her my first day here.”

Whit’s stomach dropped. “You…you invited a fae into our house?”

“What? No! I mean, well, yes. But Marigold was already here. And if you don’t want their attention, I suggest you refrain from using the word fae aloud.”

A cold fear settled into his gut. Winter sorcerers and witches were warned against the fae their entire lives. They were unpredictable and dangerous. They didn’t follow the same rules as humans or ghosts. And if offended, even by accident, they could steal all a person’s luck. They could even cause sickness or injury.

Whit was very uncomfortable with the idea of a fae living in his house.

He met Clover’s eyes. “Can we get rid of it?”

“Of Marigold?” Clover asked, frowning. “But why would you? She’s been here for longer than you have. This is her home. She doesn’t hurt anything.”

“But I don’t want it here,” he whispered.

Clover straightened her spine. “It’s not right to throw her out. She hasn’t done anything wrong. I didn’t ask you to exorcise Uncle Andri just because he was spooking me. I’ve already started a tentative friendship with Marigold. I won’t let you evict her for no good reason. If you’re worried, then try to befriend her. This talk of kicking her out will only upset her.”

Whit clenched his jaw. He certainly didn’t want Marigold upset, and he’d encouraged Clover to think of this as her home. But he still didn’t like the idea of an unknown fae mucking around where he couldn’t even see her.

He sighed a sigh that sounded more like a groan. “Will you help me befriend her, then?”

Clover rewarded him with a grin. “She likes cream. I’ll show you where to leave it for her and what to say.”