Chapter 10. Ghost Gone

Jules woke up, feeling a strong hand patting his shoulder. He opened one eye to see the robust figure of his master leaning over him. Behind him, the room was dim. The new day had hardly awoken.

"Mornings are always too early, aren't they?" Jules stretched like a lazy cat and pulled the blankets over his head. "Give me just one tiny moment..."

"I've let you sleep in," the hunter opened the shutters. His apprentice cringed under a gust of morning wind that fell into the room through the broken window. "I've already collected our clothes and got us breakfast, so stop complaining and get moving."

"All right, all right..." the boy sat up and rubbed his eyes. His brown locks stuck in all directions as he tried to shake the remaining of sleep off his head. "Gods, nights should be longer!"

"I'm sure the gods will take it under consideration," Ravin tossed him a bundle of clothes. It hit Jules' face and the boy groaned. "Get dressed and eat your breakfast. I'm going to make sure we have everything ready to go."

The hunter drank up the rest of his morning coffee and left the room. As the door closed, Jules reluctantly got up. Ravin never made empty promises. Shaking off the rest of sleepiness, the boy removed his nightclothes and hurriedly pulled on trousers and a tunic.

He bowed to lace his boots; then he felt a gust of chill on the back of his neck. His Sixth Sense strained. A sweet scent of roses filled the air. He was not alone.

"Rosalie?"

He straightened up and saw her standing by the door. She played with her fingers, unsure, and stepped forward warily.

"I tried to knock, but, well..." she waved her hand at the door in a theatrical gesture of giving a knock, but her fingers penetrated through the wood. "I needed to see you."

"Sure, sure," Jules straightened up. He crossed the room, approaching the table and the bowl of porridge that awaited him, then hesitated. Would it be all right to eat in a ghost's presence? He scratched the back of his neck, giving the bowl an unsure look. "Um, do you mind if I eat while talking? I don't have much time."

"Please, help yourself," Rosalie smirked at him. He sat down and put a spoon full of porridge into his mouth. "I wouldn't have disturbed you at this hour, but I couldn't wait anymore... What have you done to Melissa?"

Jules downed the food and cleared his throat.

"What do you mean? We haven't done anything to her," he reached for the mug that stood by his plate and found it filled with warm milk. "We met her yesterday night, but nothing really happened."

"She disappeared. I thought you cast her out." Her body hovered above the floor, never touching it as she swam through the air towards the table. She sat in the chair usually occupied by Ravin. "She sang that song again, and it all went quiet and she was gone. Anyway, how did you know it was here?"

"I had my suspicions after talking to you," Juled downed bite after bite, devouring the porridge hurriedly. "Some guard told us the whole story. He was the one who carried out your grandfather's order."

"Oh, I see," Rosalie's eyes saddened. "I don't know how I'm going to look grandpa in the face after all... But my family, they are safe now? Melissa has left for good?"

"I have no idea. But we're going to burn her body today. I'll tell you everything I know when I come back, all right?"

"Burn her body?" Rosalie shook her head with disbelief. "I know what she's done, but... everyone deserves a proper burial. She was not a bad person, she has been wronged... She really did what she could to save me," the girl stood up, wriggling her fingers, thinking. "No, I can't agree with it. She was with me the moment I died. She held my hand, she sang for me to make me feel better..."

"That's the only way to make sure she won't hurt your family," Jules stopped with the spoon half-way to his mouth. "We'll break all the connections she's had with the world of the living. You were scared of her," he reminded, seeing reluctance of Rosalie's face. The ghost girl shook her head, her hair swirling in the air like a golden mist. "She terrified you only yesterday, don't you remember?"

"I wish I had more courage," she whispered. She raised her head. Her eyes fixed on Jules; long eyelashes cast deep shadows on her porcelain cheeks. If they had arrived at Arvene a few weeks earlier, before her death... Her eyes were mesmerizing - navy blue, like a sea right before a storm. The intensity of her look made the boy feel a wave of warmth seeping through his body. "If you see her, tell her I forgive her. And that I ask that my family will be forgiven too, for what my grandfather did to her."

Before Jules could respond, she disappeared soundlessly, leaving him with a funny feeling in his stomach that had nothing to do with the porridge.

In a sudden need of fresh air, Jules ran to the window and looked outside; Ravin stood by Opal, talking to Captain Rogre, while a stableman was leading toward them a brown, tubby horse. It was saddled, but it walked in a slow, lumbering way as if its hooves were so heavy it was difficult to lift them from the ground.

Jules' eyebrows lifted at that sight. He closed the window, drank the milk up. Then he strung his bow and grabbed his quiver on the way to the door. He sighed, leaving his reila propped against the wall; as his master had stated, it made no sense to take as he hadn't yet been trained to use it. Relying on his bow, as he could trust his archery skills, was safer.

He ran out of the castle and reached Ravin just as the stableman greeted him and the Captain.

"Lord Kedmon ordered me to choose a peaceful horse for your apprentice, master Blake," the servant bowed. "I'm sure your boy will be capable of riding him. His name is Grumbler. He's very calm, and he's never unseated anyone."

"But he's old! And he's barely standing!" Jules walked around the horse, eyeing him up, "A donkey would be faster!"

"He's only seven, and a bit lazy," the horseman patted Grumbler's neck with fondness. "A horse's behaviour depends on the rider's attitude, lad"

"But-!"

"Jules, enough," the hunter gave his apprentice a warning look. "Behave."

"I'm sorry," Jules said half-heartedly. "I'm sure he's a great horse. Thank you."

The stableman bowed again and walked away. The horse whinnied and nibbled Jules' ribs. The boy jumped back with a grimace of pain.

"Well, I wish you good luck," Captain Rogre shook Ravin's hand and headed back to the guardhouse.

Ravin made sure his reila and a heavy axe were firmly attached to his saddle, then mounted Opal and rode toward the gate. Jules sighed, gazing at his horse; their eyes met and Grumbler lowered his head to bite at the boy's thigh. Jules jumped back, rolled his eyes. He mounted the steed, intending to go after Ravin, but Grumbler remained stubbornly where he stood.

"Gee up!" the boy nudged him with his heels, but the horse remained still. "Go! Oh, goddess! Go!"

Jules turned around hearing a muffled laugh sounding from the stable direction. Three stablemen were leaning against the wooden wall, watching him with amusement.

"Come on! Gee up!" he tried once again, but the animal only looked at him expectantly. He felt like an idiot, talking to the horse. "Oh, come on, please!"

To his surprise, Grumbler finally walked. When they crossed the gate, the hunter glanced at his red-faced apprentice from under an arched eyebrow.

"Ready to go, boy? Or do you want to ride with me?"

"We're fine, thanks."

Ravin urged Opal to trot, and Grumbler plodded after him.

The chill wind ruffled his hair and the boy looked around at the castle. Rosalie stood at the gate, watching him. She waved him goodbye and he raised his hand hesitantly before he turned into the narrow street of the Stone Town.