Chapter 104: Ch104 – In the Bracelet?

James turned the cold, crude bracelet over in his hands.

“So there’s just… a ghost in here,” he said finally. “In the bracelet?”

“They’re not in the bracelet.” Ryan glanced down at it. “It’s not like a jar. They’re just — they’re everywhere, and the bracelet lets me see them. There are two of them I’ve seen so far. One’s been dead for what looks like centuries and the other one is a little girl called Elly, who’s been dead for a year.”

“Right.” James exhaled slowly through his nose. “Wait but what about James—Blackwood? He’s a ghost too isn’t he?”

“He was… but he kind of just, faded away… He’s not there anymore.”

Another pause. James juggled the bracelet between his hands. “That’s extraordinarily strange, Ryan.”

“I know.”

“I mean genuinely. That is one of the stranger things I’ve heard.”

“I know.”

“So what are you going to do?” James asked. “About the message for the father.”

“I was thinking I’d go to his dorm, James Blackwood’s,” Ryan said. “He was a student here—his room won’t have been cleared out yet. Maybe his father’s still there, or maybe I will find a way to reach him. Either way, it’s a starting point.”

James nodded slowly. “Makes sense.”

The door opened.

Jared came in first, moving with a slight stiffness that he was clearly trying not to make obvious. Eleanor was a step behind him.

“You’re awake,” Jared said, looking at James.

“You’re observant,” James said, nearly dropping the bracelet he was juggling.

“Where’d you two go?” Ryan asked, simultaneously snatching the bracelet back from James.

“We were at the infirmary,” Eleanor said, glancing at the bracelet.

Jared waved a hand. “It was just a checkup. Precautionary. And completely unnecessary.”

“He cried,” Eleanor said.

“I did not—” Jared stopped. “There was something in my eye.”

James scanned Jared top to bottom. “You look terrible.”

“You look worse,” Jared said. “Earlier, before you woke up. You looked genuinely bad. Like something had gone wrong with your face.”

“Thank you, brother.”

“I’m serious. I was concerned. Eleanor was concerned.”

“I wasn’t that concerned,” Eleanor said.

“She was a little concerned.” Jared crossed to his bed and sat down with the careful deliberateness of someone whose ribs had had better days. “Also—there’s something on the notice board. The half-term’s been moved forward. Apparently a statue collapsing warrants a holiday.”

Ryan smiled at that.

Our trial got interrupted by a tremor attributed to the Gods, and Helena and Gregory’s solution is to send everyone home and hope two weeks of distance softens the memory of it.

“Where are you two going?” Ryan asked. “For the break.”

Jared and James exchanged a look.

“No idea,” Jared said. “We haven’t exactly had time to think about it.”

“We’ll probably just follow you two,” James said.

“What if you’re not welcome?” Ryan said.

“Then we’ll follow you at a slightly greater distance.” James shifted on the bed and winced. “Where are you going?” James asked, noticing Ryan putting his shoes on.

“I’m going to Blackwood’s dorm,” Ryan said. “To see if I can find a way to reach his father.”

“I’ll come with you,” Eleanor said.

“It’s fine. Stay here.” He reached for his coat. “I’ll be back before lunch.”

Eleanor looked at him for a moment, then let it go.

—————

Ryan stepped out into the courtyard with no clear idea of where James Blackwood’s dorm actually was.

He tried Dormitory Five first — the closest of dormitories to him. A student he vaguely recognised from a lecture pointed him toward Three. A girl in Three told him, with the slightly uncomfortable expression people had developed around anything Blackwood related this day, that she thought he might’ve stayed in Four.

Ryan thanked her and kept searching.

He was crossing the far end of the courtyard, mildly irritated, when he saw them.

Carriages. The courtyard was full of them. Each had beautiful sigils and colours on them.

Two carriages stood out, but not for their brightness, but for their lack of it. They were dark-lacquered and heavy, clearly built for distance as well as comfort. A pair of attendants moved between them, carrying trunks out of the entrance of Dormitory Two. On the carriage door, pressed in deep relief against the black paintwork, was the image of a red tree.

Ryan slowed.

He didn’t know every noble house sigil—there were more of them than there were minutes in a day—but he’d have to be an idiot to not recognise the Blackwood sigil by now.

He followed the attendant inside.

The dormitory was quiet, most students already in the process of packing or leaving. Ryan kept a floor behind the attendant on the stairs, then followed the sound of footsteps down the third floor corridor, stopping when the attendant turned and entered a room near the far end.

Ryan waited.

A minute passed. Then the attendant emerged holding clothes, and headed back down the stairs without looking at him.

Ryan waited until the footsteps faded.

Then he knocked once and pushed the door open.

The room was dim, the curtains half-drawn against the morning light. Most of it had already been packed — the shelves bare, a trunk sat open near the foot of the bed, a few items folded neatly beside it. The only thing that looked untouched was the desk, where a single candle burned low despite the hour.

A man sat on the edge of the bed.

He was in a worse condition than when Ryan had last seen him, his hair turned disheveled, and clothes had become unkept. Large hands rested on his knees. He was sitting very still, as though stillness was the only thing left to him.

He looked up when Ryan entered.

“You’re not one of my servants,” he said. His voice was level, unhurried.

“No, I am not,” Ryan said. “My name is Ryan Ray. I was—” Ryan inhaled a deep breath, “—I was one of the accusers that fought against him.” He paused. “I am sorry about what happened to him.”

Lord Blackwood looked at him for a long moment.

Then he nodded, once, and gestured to the chair beside the desk.

“Sit down,” he said quietly.

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