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“Oh, of course.” I had been leaning towards Garrik again but now I took a step back. “Okay, show us the mirror.”

Hopefully I could use it to contact Goody Albright and find out what I’d done wrong, I thought. I wanted to find some answers for Garrik before I went back home.

22

GARRIK

I was beginning to think that Bartleby enjoyed knowing things that I didn't. In fact, I was almost certain of it, considering the smug expression on his furry little face as he led us up the stairs towards the attic.

And to think, I'd spent the last hundred years alone in Blackthorn Manor, perfectly content with my own company—or at least as content as a man could be when he was trapped in the form of a ghost. Now, in the space of a single day, I'd acquired a talking cat who seemed determined to drive me mad and a beautiful, curvy woman who had somehow managed to turn my entire existence upside down.

Not that I was complaining about the latter, of course—especially after what had happened in her bedroom earlier.

I looked down at Celeste, who was walking beside me with her hand tucked into the crook of my arm, and felt a rush of warmth that had nothing to do with the strange magical connection now linking my spirit to my body. She was still wearing Lucinda's beautiful green silk dress, though her long brown hair had come loose from its earlier arrangement and was tumbling over her shoulders in soft waves. The silver streak at the front caught the light from the old-fashioned lamps along the hallway, making it gleam.

She was a lovely woman, and I couldn't help wondering how I was going to manage when she left.

Don't start thinking about that again, you old fool! I told myself sternly. The woman has a life to get back to, and you've already promised you won't stand in her way.

Which was true, of course. But that didn't make the prospect of her departure any more appealing.

"So where exactly is this attic?" Celeste asked as we reached the top of the second-floor staircase. "I thought this was the highest floor of the house."

"There's another staircase at the end of the east wing," I told her. "It leads to the rooms beneath the roof. Though I must warn you that I haven't been up there in quite some time."

"How long is quite some time?" she asked.

I shrugged.

"Oh, a few decades, I should think."

"A few decades?" She raised her eyebrows at me. "Garrik, don't tell me we're going to be wading through three feet of dust!"

"Certainly not!" I said indignantly. "The house takes care of itself, for the most part. I've seen to that with a few simple housekeeping enchantments."

"Well, thank goodness for that," she remarked. "Because I am not climbing around in a hundred-year-old attic full of spiders!"

"Actually, there are some very large spiders up there," Bartleby remarked over his shoulder. "Though I believe most of them are perfectly harmless."

"Most of them?" Celeste repeated, her eyes going wide.

"Oh, don't worry," the cat assured her. "I'll protect you."

I snorted.

"Indeed? And how do you propose to do that, you ridiculous creature? By talking the spiders to death?"

"Well, it seems to work rather well with you," Bartleby remarked.

Celeste burst out laughing, and I found myself smiling despite my annoyance. Confounded animal! He was going to be the death of me yet.

We finally reached a narrow wooden staircase hidden behind a door at the end of the hallway. I conjured a little blue flame to illuminate the steps and started to climb, keeping one hand on Celeste's arm to make certain she didn't slip.

The staircase was rather steep, and the railing had seen better days. I found myself wishing I'd paid more attention to this part of the house over the years, but there had hardly seemed any point in maintaining rooms which no one ever used.

"Careful there, sweetheart," I murmured as she negotiated a particularly high step. "The stairs are rather uneven."

"I'm okay," she assured me. "Though I have to say, this house could really use an elevator!"