“I won’t let anything happen to you, ever,” she promised her little brother Andray. She had pulled him off the burning bed and put out the flames on his nightshirt by rolling him on the floor. She dragged him to the balcony. Surely, at least some of the servants would be able to see them if they could reach the balcony. Someone should be there to help them escape the burning hunting lodge. She and Andray were the King’s children. Their lives mattered.

He whimpered in her arms. His left arm was burnt and so was the side of his face. His hair and eyebrows were singed off. She wasn’t sure if he was conscious. It might be better if he was not.

She had to put him on the floor for a moment to open the balcony doors. He was easy carry because he was small for his age. Everyone said was the consequence of having caught the sweating plague as a toddler. The same epidemic had taken their mother away to rest in the arms of Matadee the Merciful, the Mother Goddess, who welcomed all her people home to comfort and rest at the end of their days.

She and Andray were close, too close some thought. After the Queen died, their father had married Griselda, Princess of Osterius, who gave him another son and daughter. Sophie and Andray got along with their new family. Griselda and her children were pleasant enough but one could not say they were close, not the way that Sophie, Andray and their mother had been.

Sophie was big for her age, which she regretted but she took after her father. At 16, she was a full head taller than Queen Griselda and strong too. When she tried to open the doors to the balcony, she discovered that she could not. They were locked. They should not have been. She dragged Andray out of the way, backed up a few paces and ran at the doors, ramming them with her shoulder.

Griselda had often criticized her for her tomboy ways but Sophie was proud that she was strong. She could ride all day, draw a man’s longbow, and wield a boar spear as well as her father. Confident in her strength, she knew she could batter down the doors. One panel gave way on her fifth assault. She kicked the rest away to make enough room to squeeze through.

She picked up Andray under his arms and dragged him onto the balcony. When she saw the rope tied around the doorknobs, she realized that the fire was deliberate, meant to kill her and her brother. She looked down and saw no one. Where were the servants? The balcony was on the front of the hunting lodge overlooking the graveled carriageway and the expansive groomed park. There should have been at least a sentry, a doorman and a groom at the front door. Their absence confirmed her suspicion that someone wanted her and Andray dead

She wondered if there as enough rope to escape the balcony. She never had a chance to find out. The wall suddenly spalled outward in an explosion of flame. Burning wall timbers and room beams fell to the ground, taking the balcony with it. She grabbed at her little brother and hugged him close, her back to the ground. She could at least cushion his fall.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, ever,” she promised him one last time as the ground rose up to meet them.

---

“Why do you linger, child?” the Mother Goddess asked the shade which haunted the ruins of what had been a grand residence, more palace than a hunting lodge. The King who owned it refused to rebuild because his beloved oldest daughter had died there.

“I promised I would protect him,” the bemused shade answered. “I must take care of him. I promised, but I can’t find him. I look and I look but I can’t see him.”

“Take my hand, child,” the Mother Goddess cajoled, “I can help you.”

The shade hesitated.

“You will never find him if you stay here,” the deity smiled with sympathy, as she did for every ghost of a lost soul.

The shade took the goddess’ hand and opened her eyes to another place. The walls were white. The floor was covered with spell circles. The open sky replaced the ceiling. A giant crystal ball occupied the center of the huge chamber.

“Come, child. Come look into the crystal and you will see your brother.” The goddess led the shade by the hand to the crystal ball.

A vision formed inside the ball. It showed an older boy in a wheelchair. The upper left quarter of his face wore a hideous scar. His legs were covered by a blanket.

The boy was reading a book on military tactics. Two crutches strapped to the back of the wheelchair suggested he would never use any of those tactics since he could never serve in any army.

“Andray, what have they done to you?” the shade moaned.

“Sophie,” the goddess addressed the shade, “your attachment to your brother has tied you to the world as a spectre, doomed to haunt the place of your death. It is an abomination. You must move on or you will become a thing of fear and loathing. Yet, your lingering here is due to your great love for your sibling and that is your redemption. I will give you have two choices. You can accept death and move on to the next stage, or you can become a spirit beast with the means to protect your brother.”

“I choose the latter,” the shade said without hesitation.

“Are you sure?” the goddess held her hand up in warning. “To haunt the world is a sin, even if it is for love. There is a price that must be paid if you stay. That price is not set by me, but by Weasilli, the trickster god.”

“What is the price?” the shade asked.

The shape of a weasel as large as a horse appeared next to the Mother Goddess. It sniffed at the shade and circled around her, looking her up and down.

“Here is the price I will demand,” Weasilli sat up on his hind legs. “Andray’s life will be your life. However long he lives, you too will live. When he dies, you too will die. In addition, you will lose who you are. Everything you learned in life you will remember except the knowledge of who you once were. You will not remember that you were once Princess Sophie Nordweg and you will not know why you must follow Prince Andray, no matter what may befall him. This is what I demand.”

“Names are just window dressing,” Sophie’s ghost stated, set firmly on her goal. “This is acceptable to me.”

“Then go,” the Mother Goddess commanded, “and meet your fate.”

Sophie's ghost faded away, leaving just the Mother Goddess and Weasilli behind.

"Now, why did you leave her with an education that's worthless to her life as a beast, you conniving little god?" the Mother Goddess demanded to know.

"Oh, I don't know about that," Weasilli grinned. "I think it could be amusing, especially if the Prince survives to sit the throne. A cougar with a comprehensive knowledge of court etiquette could be quite handy, don't you think?"