Page 134 of Love at First Fright

“There we go,” Brad said cheerfully. “Not so bad, is it?”

I didn’t dignify that with a response.

We worked in silence after that, unearthing bone after bone. Ribs. Vertebrae. The delicate bones of fingers that crumbled slightly as I lifted them. Brad directed me to place everything in a pile outside the salt circle, organised by general body region.

Skull. Pelvis. Long bones. Small bones. Everything that remained of Margery Darke, laid out on the grass beside her violated grave.

The collection looked pathetic. Stained brown and grey, misshapen, cracked in places. Some pieces missing entirely. Time and earth had not been kind.

Brad wiped his hands on his shorts, surveying our work. “Right. Now we need to reform her.”

“Reform her?”

“Yeah. Lay the bones out properly. Skeleton shape. Can’t summon a spirit without giving it something to anchor to.”

I stared at the pile. Then at Brad. “How exactly are we supposed to do that? They’re ancient. Half of them don’t even look like bones anymore.”

“It’ll be easy. Go make us sandwiches and I’ll have it done by the time you get back.”

It was not easy.

And it was not done by the time I got back.

I returned with a tray of ham and cheese sandwiches to find Brad on his hands and knees, turning a vertebra in his hands, squinting at it like it might suddenly reveal its secrets.

“Thought you said this would be easy.”

“Shut up.”

I set the tray down and crouched beside him. The partial skeleton spread across the grass looked less like a human and more like an abstract art installation. The skull sat approximately where a skull should go. Everything else appeared to be placed at random.

“This is like a jigsaw puzzle,” I muttered. “Except all the pieces are the same colour and half of them are missing.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“The ribs are upside down.”

Brad glared at me.

Movement caught my eye. Molly drifted across the lawn, Thomas trailing behind her. They stopped at the edge of the salt circle, peering down at our work.

“Oh my,” Molly said. “Is that a spine?”

“Attempting to be,” I muttered.

“Thomas, dear, doesn’t that bit look wrong to you?”

Thomas scratched his chin. “Aye. Pelvis is backwards.”

“That’s clearly not how a body goes together,” Molly said primly.

I bit back a laugh.

For the next hour, we became archaeologists, anatomists, and increasingly frustrated puzzle-solvers. Molly hovered nearby, offering observational commentary. Thomas occasionally pointed out which way various bones should face. Even Bat stopped sulking long enough to drift over and observe.

Spirit Extraction Specialist was already going on my CV. Maybe I could add Amateur Grave Robber underneath it. Really complete the picture.

“There.” Brad sat back on his heels, breathing hard. “Done.”