Will watched as Meg’s body trembled. First, her arms shook, then her head bowed, then she crumpled to the ground beside Ariel. Meg had touched the ghost willingly. She’d entered the ghost’s spirit willingly. The question was whether she could get out.
Will clenched his fists and unclenched them. There was nothing he could do this time. No Uncle Ben. No sirens. Not even Shep, who could only limp and was probably blocked by Caesar. He was able to see both Meg’s body and the ghost’s body clearly, but not what was going on inside. Now the manor ghost was clutching Meg. She had her in an embrace, weeping, her tangled black hair pressed against Meg’s neck. Her velvet dress flared violent green. Beside her, Meg looked deathly pale, paler than Ariel had ever been. Will felt he would burst. He hopped from foot to foot, battling a surging wave of fear and frustration. Now both his sisters were lying there. Would he be next? Was Meg all right? Was she ever coming back? The manor ghost had no right to her. He must stop what was happening. In a rush of hot feelings, Will thrust his hands toward Meg and the ghost to pry them apart.
A jolt shot through Will’s hands the moment he touched Meg. The force knocked him down. Meg and the manor ghost were joined together in some private, intense energy. He was blocked out.
Will sat rubbing his hands and heavy sobs escaped him, part pain, part fear. Just then, Meg’s body shivered. She seemed to be talking. He crept forward and bent his head low to listen.
“I know,” mumbled Meg. “She’s here.”
The ghost glinted. She was whispering in Meg’s ear again.
“I will. I will,” Meg muttered.
The words seemed to have an effect on the manor ghost. She turned a shade dimmer. Then, with a shuddering sigh, she released Meg.
Meg’s eyes fluttered. She heaved a deep breath, as if she were finally coming up for air after being submerged underwater. Will dived in again and yanked at the two bodies—or semibodies. They separated easily this time. No jolt of energy. The manor ghost drifted back toward the daffodil garden, and Meg sat up and opened her eyes.
“Are you all right? What happened? How’d she let you go?” Will’s head was a mass of questions.
Meg looked dazed and pale, but otherwise unhurt.
“I made her a promise,” she said slowly.
“You what?”
“I listened and told her I’d help her.” Meg rubbed her head and pushed her hair out of her eyes. She sat still for a moment. “She’s sad about Gillian, she’s still grieving her death, but that’s actually not what she’s longing for. She’s longing to be a mother again. To be needed and to care for someone. Plus, she wants to do one last thing for Gillian. I said I’d help.”
“Right. Okay. So you went inside her soul to find that out.” Will was incredulous. He remembered the sheer terror he’d felt when the manor ghost had entered him. He’d never have the guts to do it on purpose.
“Now I just have to find out what the little girl wants.” Meg scrambled to her feet.
“What!”
“You know, your plan,” said Meg, walking forward. “Get the two ghosts together. Before we get them together, we have to see what they each want.”
“But you can’t! You nearly died. I was watching; you couldn’t see . . . .” Will’s voice trailed off. “Meg, please.” Will was begging now. He wrapped both hands around her arm. “You can’t. I won’t let you. You just can’t.”
Meg pushed his hands away and stepped out of his grip. “Don’t be silly. I have to.” She headed purposefully toward the well, where Kay Kay hovered in the walnut branches. Will trailed after her. It was clear Meg could see both ghosts again. The manor ghost was also watching her intently. Meg turned and looked back at Will for a moment.
“Don’t worry. I know how to do it now.”
The ghost girl was sitting on a great branch that extended over the well, kicking her legs. She frowned at Meg. A promise is a promise, Meg thought fiercely. Even if I wanted to break it, I couldn’t. The manor ghost would come back for me for sure. Meg walked faster. If she didn’t do it right now, she’d lose her nerve to do it at all. Meg summoned up her best big-sister voice and tried to coax the ghost down from the tree.
“Kay Kay,” she said. “Come on down, Kay Kay.” For a moment, she felt like her father trying to lure their cat back into the house. Kay Kay wriggled on her branch. Then she dropped down on the trampled grass next to the well and scowled at Meg.
“You spoiled my party,” said Kay Kay.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not. You did it on purpose.”
The ghost girl sniffed. Meg thought she looked about to cry. Kay Kay hadn’t stepped toward her, but hadn’t moved away, either. This might be the best chance she’d get. She reached out and grabbed each of the girl’s hands with one of hers.
Kay Kay yelled when Meg grabbed her. Meg ignored the girl’s angry looks, gritted her teeth, and braced herself for the coldness that would come.
Nothing.
Meg adjusted her grip and tried again. She felt a whisper of cool where Kay Kay’s fingertips lay cupped in her hands, but nothing more.
“I can’t get inside,” she whispered to Will. “She’s not letting me.” Will had come up behind her. She could hear him breathing, gulpy, choked-up breathing, but it was comforting to have Will nearby. They were standing about five steps from the old well. Ariel was still only a few feet away, curled up at the base of the walnut tree. Meg wished she could hear her breathing. There was no time for that. Meg focused on the ghost in front of her.
Kay Kay was wiggling, and the ghost girl’s arms were barely visible to Meg now, just a slight shine. She needed to concentrate. It was hard to hold on to something you couldn’t see. Will could probably see her clearly, but for Meg the picture had started blinking in and out. Like trying to hold on to a dream when you were waking up: wavering and elusive. She focused on her glinting silver eyes. That was the brightest part of Kay Kay. Something was drooping over the ghost’s left eye, partly obscuring it. The bow. Ariel’s. The red-and-pink bow that was forever slipping and sloping into Ariel’s eyes. Meg was always repinning it. For an instant, she saw an image of Ariel gazing up at her, holding out the bow and saying, “Here, Meg. It came off again.” The memory gave Meg a renewed sense of courage. She took a deep breath and plunged in as far as she could go before Kay Kay slipped away.
The silver eyes flickered. Then they disappeared.
Meg couldn’t see the ghost any longer.
Instead, she saw the familiar dank surface of the stone shaft of the well. She knew she was still standing next to Will outside in the muddy grass, but the well engulfed her. Meg trembled as the narrow walls of the well encircled her, conjuring back her recent terrors: the ledge, the frayed rope, Ariel being hoisted away, and Meg left forgotten. Then she gathered her strength. This was good. She was in! She couldn’t feel the grass anymore. All she could feel was the ledge and the tree’s roots rubbing her leg. A stone dropped off the ledge and hurtled into the pit below. She heard it splash. She was inside Kay Kay’s spirit, and Kay Kay’s spirit was in the well.
Bells and shouting. It was all the noise that had made her trip. Now she’d fallen down in here. Would anyone ever come? In all the commotion, it was plain she’d been forgotten. Everyone was so frantic about the other girl. The manor girl. The whole village had turned out looking for her. Her own family, too. Where was her mother? Cooking at the manor again, or out looking for the rich little girl. The one everyone loved so much. No one paid attention to her, a girl from Cook’s Cottage. No one even knew she was missing. Bells, bells . . . She wanted to put her hands over her ears, but something was wrong and her head hurt. Bells. No company except the bells. She was alone. She needed someone beside her. Someone who would stay with her. Someone who would hold her hand and be with her when the bells rang. Be with her forever. She wanted . . .
“I don’t want you!”
The ghost girl spat the words out.
Meg gasped and fell. The girl ghost had shoved her. Pushed her out of her soul and onto the muddy ground. She’d been on the verge of reaching something vital, something deep inside, when she’d felt a sting, like an angry wasp. Meg lay flat on her back. How close was she to the well? Tentatively, Meg rolled her head to the right. Her nose touched the well’s stone rim. She’d fallen at the brink. One arm hung over the gap. If Kay Kay shoved again now, she’d tip over into the pit.
Meg knew she should move, but her muscles jammed. She lay where she was, too frightened to stir. A single pebble disengaged from the rim and plunged down the shaft. Meg listened, horrified, and waited to hear it strike the walls or splash.
Then rough hands were on her again. Tugging on her body.
Meg screamed.
She clenched her left hand in the grass and dug in, gouging soil under her fingernails and pressing her heels into the churned-up earth. She swung her right arm out of the pit and grabbed the well’s rim itself, scraping her knuckles and scrabbling for a grip on the unrelenting stone. The rest of her body went rigid. She fought against the hands, trying to make her body a dead weight, and continued to scream.
“Oh, shut up!”
It was Will. And Will’s hands. He was saying something too, but she couldn’t understand. His voice was coming out in a high-pitched squeak. He rolled Meg away from the well edge. Meg relaxed in relief, but Will was shaking her shoulders again.
“Did you get it?” he repeated.
“Some. She won’t let me.”
“I won’t let you myself in a minute. Geez! Look at you.” Will’s voice was still squeaking.
Meg struggled to her feet. Every cell in her body felt drained. Will was right. She couldn’t do that again, especially not so close to the well. Kay Kay stood defiantly in her ragged pinafore, her legs spread wide, balancing impossibly on the empty air over the pit.
Meg rubbed her forehead. She felt foggy, and the sharp sting still smarted inside her heart. Will was talking and tugging her sleeve, hopping from foot to foot. He did that when he was agitated and desperate to know something.
“Well?”
“There were bells again, and we were in the well . . . ,” she said.
She shook her head. There was no time to tell him what she’d learned. The ones she had to talk to were the ghosts. The ghost girl was now clear, as vivid as an ordinary person. That was helpful. Was it just Meg’s age that made the view come and go?
“Kay Kay,” Meg began, taking a step forward.
Kay Kay turned her back on her.
Meg hesitated. She tried again. This time Kay Kay spun around and picked up rocks in each hand. Not good. Meg ducked as the rocks came sailing toward her. The ghost girl darted from the well to the walnut, where Ariel sat pressing the doll to her chest, still groggy. The manor ghost had been watching Meg from the daffodil garden, but when the ghost girl moved in she swept back to Ariel, the hem of her green gown swishing, covering Ariel’s head.
“That’s not your little girl!” Meg cried. “Leave her alone! She has a mother.”
The two ghosts circled Ariel. Their chins jutted forward, their silver eyes fixed on her. Each step was menacing and deliberate. They looked like two angry wolves defending a kill.
“They’re not listening!” protested Meg.
Will was silent. Then he lifted his head and began to sing.
It was a wordless tune: la de de la da. His song wavered. He swallowed and sang again, but louder this time, with more confidence.
The bell song.
Meg realized where she’d heard the notes before: in both the ghosts’ minds. And also from her sister. Ariel had been humming it all week. The bell tune was in both the ghosts’ stories. Their lives and deaths were linked by this.
Under the spell of Will’s song, the ghosts stopped circling and stood mesmerized. Will’s high-pitched treble voice was nothing like the enormous church bells, but still, they were listening.
Meg stepped toward the ghosts and Ariel’s hunched form. As she passed Will, he squeezed her shoulder, but never missed a beat with his singing. Meg walked closer until she was within inches of the ghosts.
“That’s not your little girl,” she said, pointing to Ariel. “That’s the wrong one.” Then Meg pointed to Kay Kay. “She’s the one I told you about. She’s the one who needs you.”
“Ah!”
At first, Meg wasn’t sure who’d spoken, but it came from the manor ghost. A thrill of hope surged through Meg’s heart. Was it working? The manor ghost quivered. The music seemed to be holding the ghosts’ attention, but Kay Kay’s silver eyes were still locked on Ariel. Will sang louder, his voice cracking on the high notes.
Meg watched eagerly. The manor ghost glanced at Kay Kay. Meg hoped to see true love or rapture, but Kay Kay scowled and lines of suspicion darkened the manor ghost’s face. The manor ghost draped her green sleeves over Ariel, and Kay Kay descended to Ariel’s other side. They both placed their hands on the little girl’s chest. Ariel moaned.
Meg felt frantic. As long as the music was there, the ghosts were ready to listen, but what was the right thing to tell them? Beside her, Will was singing desperately. His voice strained, replicating the dinging and donging in an endless rhyme. If only she’d truly found out what the ghost girl wanted. If only she’d had time . . .
She had half an answer. She knew what the manor ghost wanted. She’d have to guess at the rest. She’d been in the well herself. How would she feel alone and hurt in there . . . possibly dying? She let the feeling wash over her.
“You don’t need a playmate,” she said slowly, feeling out the truth of the words. She spoke directly to the ghost girl who was on the right side of Ariel. Meg took another step, then knelt beside her. Behind her, Will continued to sing.
“You’re lonely.” She paused. This much she knew. “You think you need a playmate.” Then it came to her. “But what you really need is . . . a mother.”
The ghost girl froze. Only her eyes moved, two quick dots of silver. Meg gathered her courage. She knew she was right.
“You need someone to take care of you,” said Meg, plunging on, more gently now. “You want to be loved, not forgotten.”
For a moment, the ghost girl flicked her eyes back to Meg.
“The well’s horrible,” Meg continued, hurrying on. “You don’t want to stay down there. You don’t want to bring another child down with you. You just need someone to be brave with.”
She was about to go on when something startled Meg. A movement close beside her.
Deep down, from somewhere far away, Ariel heard music. The sound stirred her. She shifted and moaned. The song. The sad one Kay Kay was always singing. But it wasn’t Kay Kay singing; it was Will’s voice. She was all mixed up. It was a dream, and she was asleep. But why was she sleeping outside? She felt something hard pressed under her elbow. The party—that was it. She’d been outside at Kay Kay’s party. Ariel reached for the doll, and for a panicked moment didn’t feel the familiar knobby head, then her fingers closed on the doll’s hair and she pulled it close and nuzzled it. Again, the warm feeling spread through her chest. She gave a contented sigh and settled down once more. Here she was as snug and secure as being inside her mother’s best hug.
The singing changed. More desperate. More Will. He was frightened. His fear poked into her warm blankety feeling. Why was Will scared? His fear kept prodding her. Her big brother. She struggled against the tug of the doll’s cozy embrace. She had to be with him. She blinked, kicked her legs and forced herself to sit up. She blinked again. She couldn’t see Will. For some reason, there was too much prickly green cloth in the way, plus there was Kay Kay blocking her view. Kay Kay was kneeling beside her, not singing, not humming. Simply staring. Staring fiercely and hopefully at Ariel, staring with those silver eyes.
She wants something, thought Ariel. She shook her head, trying to think, but her body felt slow, weighted down with rocks, or half asleep. Something from me. Of course. She thinks I forgot. I never gave her a birthday present. Her original gift, the silver buckle, was nowhere to be seen. It must have dropped when she fell. She’d have to give her something else. Ariel ignored the sharp twinge that shot through her heart and forced her arms forward.
“For you,” she said, and handed Kay Kay the doll.
Kay Kay sat back on her ankles, clutching the doll. Warm blue light pulsed through her chest, her silver eyes sparkled and her shoulders relaxed. She flung her head back, her face tilted at the sky, and made a choking cry.
“Mama?”
Her voice startled everyone. It was small and childlike, just like any lost child.
With a bustle of green velvet, the manor ghost stood up and abruptly swung her gaze away from Ariel. Then she backed up several paces. Even from that distance, her eyes zeroed in on the doll buried in Kay Kay’s arms.
“Mama!” Kay Kay called again.
At the first “mama,” the manor ghost had dropped her menacing embrace of Ariel. But at the second one, she froze. Meg watched breathlessly as the manor ghost shifted her eyes up until they left the doll and settled fully on Kay Kay’s face. At last she was looking at the ghost child.
Meg’s hope surged. She waited. Two seconds. Five seconds. Will kept singing, croaking out the tune. The two ghosts were watching each other intently. Then the manor ghost stirred.
“Mama,” said Kay Kay, stumbling toward her, tripping on the hem of her own blue dress. “I don’t like it. It’s cold and dark.” Tears streamed down her dirty face. She tucked the doll under her armpit to free her hands and lunged forward. “Mama, hold my hand. I’m scared to die.”
That was it. What Kay Kay really wanted. Someone to be with her as she died.
Off to the west, the bells began to ring. The ghost child reached out both hands. The manor ghost was now a vibrant green. Kay Kay was glowing and trembling, blazing with blue light. As the manor ghost continued to gaze at her, the silver light in the little girl’s eyes rippled throughout her body, sliding over her smudged face, grubby pinafore and hungry hands, transforming them. Kay Kay was shining as only a child who’s been seen and treasured can do. Meg blinked at the brilliance. Kay Kay stood before them, the bare beauty of her soul exposed.
“Oh, darling!” the manor ghost cried, and rushed forward.
“Mama!”
The two ghostly figures met. Child hands and mother hands grasped each other in a shriek of passion. Kay Kay crumpled against the green dress, more than a century of tension released at once, and the manor ghost cradled her shimmering head and rocked her.
The ancient sound of bell song surrounded them. Will’s song mixed with the clang of the tower bells as the ghost tune rolled over them. A gust of chilled air brushed Meg’s shoulders.
A flash of green burst forth.
“They’re going, they’re going!” cried Meg.
The two figures dissolved into one. They lifted above the ground in a dazzling blur of green-blue flame. The flame whirled above the well, then shot to the sky. A primal sound, raw and final, lingered around them: the sound of two people’s innermost longings breaching into the open sky.