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Another snippet
Mar. 10th, 2025 04:45 pmAnother new snippet.
" “I’m sorry about the smell,” said Agravaine, pausing at the foot of the stairs. “If there is a smell, I mean. It’s not dangerous – not damp or mould, or anything like that. Gavin’s had the damp course updated and so forth. It’s the ghosts. One of them, anyway. Usually only women can smell it, apparently.”
It was an old house – older, Sebille suspected, than the Orkney family knew. Oh, the bulk of the structure as it stood was no more than three hundred years old, but earlier buildings underlay it, going back as far as her ministry’s records began.
She drew in a breath, looked around her. “I can’t smell anything at the moment.” She made a note to carry out further investigation later on. Her contact at the ministry had mentioned ghosts, but not gone into specifics.
“Good,” Agravaine said. And then, “They’re not harmful, our ghosts. They’re a bit annoying sometimes, but the worst they do is startle you or make a loud noise. Most of them are pretty retiring anyway. Though if you want anything from the top floor landing, ask me or Gale. Great Uncle Claudius mostly stays in there and he doesn’t like disturbances or new people.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sebille said. Really, the Orkneys were fascinating. These old families were rare – traditions and stories grew diluted over time, as people moved away and branches of the families died out. The Orkneys were unusual, a consequence, perhaps, of the unusually strong gift for witchcraft that ran in the women. They’d stayed in Cameliard, in the tall house or one of its antecedents. They remembered their traditions – she’d noted several signs of that, in the placing of mirrors and pictures, in what plant grew on what windowsill, what herbs or dried flowers or small tokens were placed where, in the marks above doorways and the small carvings placed near thresholds and stairwells. Whether they understood why these were done was another matter. But the charms felt fresh and healthy and well-maintained, despite the absence of a full time resident witch.
That, of course, was one of the reasons she was here. The twins – who were cousins of some kind, she understood – both carried the gift, though they lacked training. It could well be they kept the charms topped up. She made a note to ask Agravaine about that later. But…
“There’s something going on up there,” her ministry contact had said. “We’d like you to give the place a once over, look for anything different or unusual.”
Skirt of the day: Holy Clothing Blue.
" “I’m sorry about the smell,” said Agravaine, pausing at the foot of the stairs. “If there is a smell, I mean. It’s not dangerous – not damp or mould, or anything like that. Gavin’s had the damp course updated and so forth. It’s the ghosts. One of them, anyway. Usually only women can smell it, apparently.”
It was an old house – older, Sebille suspected, than the Orkney family knew. Oh, the bulk of the structure as it stood was no more than three hundred years old, but earlier buildings underlay it, going back as far as her ministry’s records began.
She drew in a breath, looked around her. “I can’t smell anything at the moment.” She made a note to carry out further investigation later on. Her contact at the ministry had mentioned ghosts, but not gone into specifics.
“Good,” Agravaine said. And then, “They’re not harmful, our ghosts. They’re a bit annoying sometimes, but the worst they do is startle you or make a loud noise. Most of them are pretty retiring anyway. Though if you want anything from the top floor landing, ask me or Gale. Great Uncle Claudius mostly stays in there and he doesn’t like disturbances or new people.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sebille said. Really, the Orkneys were fascinating. These old families were rare – traditions and stories grew diluted over time, as people moved away and branches of the families died out. The Orkneys were unusual, a consequence, perhaps, of the unusually strong gift for witchcraft that ran in the women. They’d stayed in Cameliard, in the tall house or one of its antecedents. They remembered their traditions – she’d noted several signs of that, in the placing of mirrors and pictures, in what plant grew on what windowsill, what herbs or dried flowers or small tokens were placed where, in the marks above doorways and the small carvings placed near thresholds and stairwells. Whether they understood why these were done was another matter. But the charms felt fresh and healthy and well-maintained, despite the absence of a full time resident witch.
That, of course, was one of the reasons she was here. The twins – who were cousins of some kind, she understood – both carried the gift, though they lacked training. It could well be they kept the charms topped up. She made a note to ask Agravaine about that later. But…
“There’s something going on up there,” her ministry contact had said. “We’d like you to give the place a once over, look for anything different or unusual.”
Skirt of the day: Holy Clothing Blue.
