Karl stood, paralysed with fear, as Cintia grabbed a carving knife from the wall and lunged at the spectre. But the blade simply passed through him, as though he were a shadow.

“Feeble wench. Your sting is like a gnat.” The spectre wielded a knife high in the air. The blade gleamed with a pale light. “I am beyond death. No mortal can touch me. I am invincible and I will gut you!”

Lee leapt forwards, her long red hair streaming behind her. She grabbed at the spirit’s knife wielding arm. He gave a vehement exclamation as the hag’s long green fingers actually gripped hold of his insubstantial form, and held his spectral wrist in a firm grasp. She twisted his arm and wrenched the knife from him with her free hand.

The evil spirit roared in astonishment and rage. Lee now wielded his ghostly knife. “Begone, evil spirit, begone! Trouble the living no more.” She stabbed the ghost through the heart and his spectral form dissolved, his roars fading into nothingness.

Lee stood there, breathing hard, her breast rising and falling. She let the spectral knife fall to the floor where it dissolved in a scatter of glowing sparks. Karl wondered whether the ghost had frightened his mother, for her blue eyes were wide and anxious. She reached to touch Cintia’s shoulder, but the red headed girl shrank back and Lee froze her eyes widening even further. Karl could at least tell that Cintia had offended her. Well now that there was no danger, he could act. He ran forwards to put his arms around his mother and she hugged him back, giving her small, contented sigh and gently stroking his back. He could feel the steady thump of her slow heart-beat.

“I love you,” he reminded her.

“I love you, my son,” she murmured.

Cintia gave a cough.

“Cintia…,” Lee began, her arms still around Karl, “you should not try to fight evil spirits. You should have left him to me. You could easily have been killed.”

“Yeah, yeah… the ghost said I’m feeble too.”

“I didn’t say that,” said Lee, turning to face the red headed girl. “But you mustn’t be so reckless.”

“You’re not my mother. I don’t have to do what you say.”

Lee breathed through her nose, her nostrils dilating. “Don’t you even care what it’d do to us, seeing you get yourself killed?” Her voice was trembling a little. Karl wondered if it was because Cintia was being cheeky.

Cintia smiled. Karl thought how pink and soft her lips were. “This is about you, then? Just what you think?”

Lee gazed at her. Her long, angular face was almost ghost-like in the dingy twilight of the kitchen. When she spoke her voice was soft. “No. Can’t you see we’re your friends?”

Cintia scratched her freckled nose. “I can see perfectly well, thank you.”

Lee bit her lip and then sighed. “Alright kids, we’d better get going.”

“We need to find a safe,” said Karl. “But I don’t know where one is.”

“I do,” said Cintia, “but I can’t break the lock.”

Cintia led them through the warren of deserted passageways until they reached a bare stone room with an iron safe in the corner.

“Is a night-hag strong enough to crack it?” asked Cintia.

“I don’t know.” Lee took a small leather pouch from her bag and from it she withdrew a small key that looked like it had been cut from a glowing, pink metal. She held it up to her face and breathed on it. Its glow illuminated the contours of her angular face. She certainly liked to use the colour pink in stuff she made, but Karl had always thought that pink light shining on her face made her look really weird.

She placed her broom and bag on the floor and knelt by the safe, turning her key in the lock. There was a click and the safe door swung open.

Cintia clapped her hands together. “Oh well done, you could be a successful burglar.”

Lee looked up at her and glared.

Cintia shrugged. “Sorry. I suppose that was distasteful.”

Lee rummaged through the safe, murmuring to herself. “Just what we need for the journey… I’ll have to buy the kids food and they’ll need a decent place to stay…”

She stood up. “I’m taking the bullions. They’re worth their weight in metal outside Ostinia.” She took Karl by the hand and beckoned to Cintia. “Best keep moving if Steel’s recruited ghosts who were ghouls like he is.”

Too late… shadows coalesced in the doorway forming the fuzzy outline of a man with awful, staring, bloodshot eyes.

“It would be rather nice and polite if you didn’t steal.” He spoke in a north Ostinian accent and his voice sounded oddly strained. “And you shouldn’t leave. Steel is particular… his greatest enemies must be stopped.”

Lee stood protectively in front of Karl and Cintia. “Go back to your grave, evildoer.”

The evil spirit made a horrible slurping noise. “Oh, it’s true. Steel’s arch-enemy may not run. I wonder what Trot will taste like? An anarchist in wolf’s clothing?” The ghost licked the tips of his long fingers. Then he fixed his horrible, bulging eyes on Karl. “Why, is that handsome young fellow really the Prince? He has a noble bearing… sorry, but he’s Steel’s enemy too, just like Trot.”

Lee gave a piercing cry and started forwards.

“Your huge, green body is so much fun, young lady,” hissed the ghost. “I’ll give you a big stroke!”

He reached for Lee with his unnaturally long fingers which to Karl’s horror, seemed to lengthen... Cintia put her arms around Karl and despite the peril, he felt thrilled by her touch.

The spectre groped for Lee’s chest, but then recoiled, giving a hiss. “My clay fingers can’t find a life spark. What are you?”

Lee gripped at the ghost’s unnaturally long limbs as he struggled. “Return to your grave, now!” she cried.

“My clay fingers are the touch of the grave! You’re no mortal either, isn’t that right? What do you taste like?” He snapped at Lee’s shoulder with yellowed teeth.

Karl could only watch, his heart in his mouth.

“Twiggy! Help me!” cried Lee.

Karl wondered what she meant, but then the broom on the floor twitched awkwardly, its twigs glowing like embers. But it did not fly to Lee. Cintia let go of Karl and knelt by the broom, and picked up her carving knife that lay beside the bag. She touched the metal to the glowing twigs and the blade began to glow with an ethereal light as well.

“Lee! Catch!” she cried, and tossed the knife across the room. Lee snatched with her long green fingers and caught it.

“I like rusty knives,” wailed the ghost. “The feeling of rust against my clay fingers is exquisite!”

“Then take that!” said Lee, and stabbed him through the heart with the glowing knife.

The ghost faded away with a sigh.

Lee stood for a moment, breathing heavily, her green hands trembling.

“Thank you, Cintia,” she said. But her voice sounded like she wanted to cry. She swept over to Karl and he hugged her quickly in reassurance. Her green skin felt even colder and clammier than usual, although her heart wasn’t beating any faster. She smiled wanly. “We’ve got to leave. We could hardly be in greater danger wherever we go.”

00O00

Cintia showed them a route she’d found through the cellar passages to a small backdoor. Beyond the palace was a small, weather beaten track. The glowing Wall loomed on either side.

Lee glanced at the wall on either side, her blue eyes wide and anxious. The glaring lights of the Wall played weirdly over her lurid face. She put an arm on each of their shoulders“Nothing else for it. We’ve got to plough through. Try to keep your mind on the path, kids, hey?”

She linked arms with each of them and they set off down the worn path. The air was chill, but somehow fetid. The glaring lights of the wall beat down on the three of them. Karl thought he could hear muttering all around them from a multitude of hollow voices.

“You are closest to us, Karl… closest to the dead…”

“You are the sickly one… you have no kingdom… no place in the mortal world…”

“Don’t listen to them, kids!” cried Lee.

“I’m not going to,” snapped Cintia.

My, but Cintia was a cool one! She didn’t even sound spooked out.

Then with a chill, Karl heard the voices of his royal father, the dead King.

“Your place is with us, my son and heir. Not with that unnatural, green creature. Leave her.”

He groaned. “Mum, I can hear father’s voice.”

Her grip on his arm tightened. “It’s not really him, Karl. It’s an evil spirit playing tricks. Probably sent by Steel. The spirit won’t scare you. You’re my brave boy.”

“The Underworld is for bad people, then?” Said Cintia.

Lee nodded, her red hair rippling and bouncing. “Yes. They’re stuck on a plane close to Earth. I like to think that good mortals go somewhere fabulous when they die, and that it is too high for us to see. Me, I’m stuck on Earth forever.”

Another voice cut through Karl’s mind. He gave a start, for this one sounded like his royal mother, and she sounded anguished. “Baby, don’t ignore me. I’m so cold. If I could just hold you again…”

That actually sounded like her. She had called him ‘Baby.’

“It’s my mother! She’s calling me.”

“You know perfectly well it isn’t her voice, Karl.” Lee was glaring at down at him and her voice was trembling slightly. The sickly yellow light of the wall flared and lit up her green face, so that her whole look was really garish. “It’s another evil spirit playing tricks. She would never go to the Underworld. No loving mother would.”

Of course, she was right. He felt a warm glow of affection for her. She was so fierce in defending the memory of his royal mother.

“N-no… I know it’s not really her voice.”

“Just stay with me, darling,” said Lee, her bottom lip quivering.

Cintia was peering at him. Karl thought the lights of the Wall were not unflattering for her, the way they were for a hag. Cintia would look beautiful in any light. “The ghosts won’t leave you alone?”

“I – um… well, I can handle it.” He wanted to seem brave to her, although she had already shown how brave she was, instead of just telling. It would probably take a lot to impress her.

“Wow. I'm glad my family are still alive somewhere... although under Steel, no one is safe. Well there’s light at the end of the tunnel.” Cintia pointed ahead to a gap in the wall, where the first, faint streaks of dawn were visible on the horizon.

Lee gave a long sigh. “At last.”

They made for the light and emerged on a snow covered plain outside Ostinia.

00O00

They still had to walk all day to reach an inn. Luckily Lee had explored this area once, years ago, and there was still an inn where she thought there would be. Karl was exhausted, and Lee had to half carry him for the last lap. As they neared the inn, Lee donned a pair of leather gloves, wrapped herself in a fur coat and then dug the awful, flesh-coloured mask from her bag and slapped it on her face, pressing with both hands and making a scrunching sound.

Cintia wrinkled her nose. “It looks so awful. I prefer your real face.”

“Thanks… I think,” said Lee.

The landlady was a plump, middle-aged lady, who looked faintly bored, although Karl saw her eyes widen when they alighted on him.

“A room for my son and I, please. And one for Cintia. Full board.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said the landlady, unconcerned. “Does the girl mind the attic? It’s all we’ve got left.”

Lee turned to Cintia. “You don’t mind, Cintia?” Karl had forgotten how uncomfortable it was watching the lips of her rubber mask move when she talked.

Cintia scowled. “Of course not. Don’t patronise me.”

"Listen Cintia, after all you've been through, losing your home, are you sure you'll be alright on your own tonight?" Lee spoke gently, but the effect was spoiled by the awful mask moving and stretching in a grotesque fashion. "If you need to talk about anything..."

"I don't need to talk with you, thank you all the same."

"You mean you don't want to talk about it with me, is that it?" Lee's voice was quivering. Ulva was right about her being sensitive. Karl really hoped she wasn't going to start crying and embarass them all. The landlady was already watching with sardonic amusement.

He took his mother's gloved hand in both of his. "I'm sure Cintia's just tired. Neither of us have your long legs, mum. Why don't we all just get an early night?"

"Great idea," said Cintia, tossing back her long red hair. Lee sniffed.

00O00

Cintia took a candle up to the attic and Lee took her son to the double room on the first floor. Being back in a building reminded Karl oddly of his early life as a Prince, even though the inn was a humble place.

Lee ordered hot water for their room and to Karl’s discomfort, she didn’t remove her mask until she was washing her hair. Then she pulled it off with a horrible squelching sound, as she clutched her sodden hair with her other hand. Karl had already dressed and was in his nightclothes.

"You brush your teeth, darling?" she asked, looking up and not seeming to worry about getting soap in her eyes. Her red hair was already thick with soap suds and she had spilled soapy water onto her dress.

He nodded. She looked simply to large for the tiny bathroom and the tubs. "Are you going to fit in the tub, mum?"

"I'll have to try, hey?"

Karl retreated from the bathroom, but he could hear Lee making a big deal of squashing herself into the tub, so he wasn’t likely to get any sleep until she thought she was clean enough. She complained out loud in her penetrating voice. “By the Moon, these bathtubs are so tiny… I’d only have used one like this for you, when you were little and could fit in my cauldron.”

At last she clambered into her bed, although that was too small for her too. She grimaced, and folded her legs. Her sodden hair hung limply. The smell of it drying was more pungent than her body odour.

There was just one beeswax candle still lit. Lee placed it on the little table between their beds and smiled at him. “Exciting, hey? Actually going to meet your grandmother. I’m a bit nervous. How'll she take having me in the family?”

“There’s no need to be nervous.” Karl really wanted to sleep, but something was bothering him… “Mum, could Steel send his ghouls here, away from the Wall?”

Her brows drew together and she chewed her bottom lip. “Oh darling, don’t worry. I’m here.”

“Cintia too. She did really well against that creepy ghost who said he had clay fingers.” Karl shuddered.

“That she did,” said Lee with a small smile. “She’s a brave girl.”

“Beautiful too, don’t you think?”

His mother’s expression was hard to read as she gazed at him. “Yes, of course.” She flicked a strand of her damp hair away from her face and then picked up an old, leather bound book. She had kept published books in her cave, ones she had purchased or bartered for in some market place or other at some point, not always in Ostinia. It looked like she had decided to bring a few with them. “Perhaps a bit more of the story will help you sleep?”

She really liked this particular bedtime story and had been reading a chapter to him each night before they left Ostinia. It was about an illegitimate son of a prince named Erik. Erik was the character who narrated, even though a lady had written the story. The story was well written, although the narrator could be exasperatingly dense at times. Lee really liked the character of Conny, the eccentric lady wife of Erik’s royal father. Conny bore him no ill-will despite his birth, even becoming his friend half-way through the story.

Lee was keen to talk about the character after she finished the chapter. “She nagged the king about his education. She was right. He should have been given the same education as a prince.”

“I bet she was a nag,” said Karl. “Remember the part where she wallops the weapons master with her fan?”

“But she saw that her husband’s son should have been treated as a prince. A lot of the other characters couldn’t see it. It was because she wished he could have been her son. She would have raised him herself if she’d been allowed. She never called him by that cruel word. ‘Bastard.’” Lee grimaced.

“Oh?” Karl knew his mother often had opinions on how books should be interpreted, but she was finding this one as exciting as if the characters were real people or something. “Um… Well Ostinian Royals didn’t think descendants of the royal house would make politically advantageous marriages if they were illegitimate. Stupid, I know, but no one thought to question it. That was like the world of the story.”

Lee grinned. “Conny became too wise for her world, then. I love it most of all when she realises that she should have been allowed to raise Erik as her son, even though she did not give birth to him.”

“When was that?” asked Karl.

“At the end of the chapter I’ve just read,” said Lee, tapping the page. “She burst into tears and hugs him, headbutting his chin in the process and says, ‘it’s not fair, you should have been mine.’ It’s an important turning point in the book.”

“Oh yeah…” Karl remembered. “But Erik’s mind was on Malina, his love interest. Isn’t that more important to the story?”

“You think so?” murmured Lee. The candle light illuminated her long, green face and cast flickering shadows on the walls, but her expression was hard to read.