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The Forever Flame had snatched Baby away in the hope of bringing Mercury to heel, but he’d managed to begin cracking the fortitude of all the occupants of Aventine Manor. Mercury needed to make certain none of them abandoned hope altogether.

In the hidden gathering room, Mercury came upon Gary the Green, Rum Nicky, and the Quiet Queen.

“We need to increase the impact of our efforts,” he told them without preamble. “We have days before they intend to increase the impact of theirs.”

“What do you wish us to do?” Gary the Green asked.

“Organize those of the ghosts who can manipulate physical objects. Pilfer all of the interlopers’ belongings—all of them. Everything they have brought with them.”

The ghosts nodded as they listened.

“Empty the coal cellar. Strip every bed of its linens and blankets. Empty every linen cupboard. Bring all of those items into the hidden rooms and passages where the intruders can’t find them.”

“We are to make remaining here as inconvenient and uncomfortable as possible?” Gary the Green summarized.

“It might not be enough to drive all of them away, but if we can rid ourselves of at least some, that will help.”

“I’ll empty the larder and kitchen cupboards as well,” Rum Nicky said. “You and Tacey will have the food you need, but the trespassers won’t have any.”

They would have to leave when they grew hungry. And their ghosts would have to go with them.

Which brought to mind another new aspect of it all.

“If any of the ghosts spies the Violet Giant and can manage to relay a message without being overheard, let him know how to access the secret passages.”

“He has shown himself an ally,” Gary the Green said. “That’s something we need.”

“We also need more than annoyances and inconveniences to thwart the enemy.” The Quiet Queen’s imperious declaration didn’t offend Mercury in the least. He knew her well enough to realize it wasn’t actually an insult. And he agreed with her.

“I have another trick up my sleeve,” he said. “Well, Aventine does.”

“We trust you,” Rum Nicky said. “And we’ll do our part.”

They floated out. But before Mercury could leave as well, the Scholar entered. Being confined to only the hidden parts of the manor meant they would inevitably run into each other far more frequently than when they had use of the entire house.

“It seems to me,” Mercury said, “that every time you run me to ground lately it is to tell me of some new cataclysmic discovery you have made.”

One of the Scholar’s eyebrows hitched upward the tiniest bit, sending Mercury’s heart in the exact opposite direction.

“The ledger that is in my tower room now,” the Scholar asked, “is the first ghost swap recorded in there the first time any of your ghosts was traded?”

Mercury nodded. “I’ve written down every single one over the years.”

“A person’s first trade can only be completed if every immediate family member in their household is in agreement.” The Scholar had to have known that Mercury was well aware of that restriction. So there must have been a reason he was reiterating it. “When that person is an orphan, the governor of the orphanage fills that role.”

“That is true,” Mercury acknowledged, “but the orphanage’s legal and monetary claim on ghosts doesn’t begin until an unadopted orphan reaches adulthood. It is a contradiction between what the law prevents and what the intricacies of ghost trades require.”

The Scholar nodded. “But one thing both agree on is that a person who is not of age cannot be a household unto himself, whether he is living in a home, an orphanage, or on the streets of London.” His gaze grew more pointed. “The Governor was still your guardian, which counts as immediate family in these matters for an orphan, despite you running away from the orphanage.”

Something upending began niggling at the back of Mercury’s mind, another bit of upheaval, another revelation that would rewrite his own history.

“The first swap you recorded in your ledger should not have been possible,” the Scholar said. “A first trade can’t be completed without all of the necessary people being in agreement.”

Mercury began pacing, mind spinning furiously. He knew with perfect clarity how impossible it was to make a first trade without all of those pieces in place. He had, on more than one occasion, discovered that an immediate family member wasn’t in favor of a swap because it simply wouldn’t stick.

“I wasn’t living at the orphanage,” Mercury said, as much to himself as to the Scholar. “It wasn’t my household.”

“That doesn’t matter when a person is still a child.”