“We’re not sure of either.” Simon took a deep breath.
“Can you do something?” she asked simply.
He gave her a reassuring smile, knowing she referred only to her mother and not the ritual. “Where is she?”
Charles replied quickly, “Upstairs. Second room on the left. Her old room.”
“You two wait here.” Simon started for the stairs with Kate on his heels. “We’ll have a look.”
They went up and found themselves in a dim hallway. The carpet under their feet was worn. The wainscoting was dusty and chipped. Penny’s focus was clearly not household duties, and they likely did not have domestics given the secretive and dangerous nature of the work she did. Simon lifted a guttering oil lamp from a sideboard.
Kate cleared her throat nervously. “Poor Penny. Can it really be possible that her mother is up here?”
“Yes. Or at least some other lost soul,” Simon answered, as they stopped outside the second door on the left. Simon listened carefully and his heart beat faster when he thought he could hear faint shuffling from inside. He reached for the doorknob.
Kate touched his arm. “Why don’t you just look in using your runes?”
“It’s easier to open the door.”
Kate took a deeper breath and grimaced. “Do you have any experience with the restless dead? Are we in danger?”
“It depends. Undead can range from quite polite to unfortunately ravenous.”
“And if she’s the latter?” Kate pressed anxiously.
“Likely she would have slaughtered someone by now, but stand back just in case.” Simon opened the door.
Stench wafted out. Kate covered her nose. They stood in the doorway, and in the faint light they saw a shape moving. It shifted back and forth, closer and farther, closer and farther. A slight squeaking noise accompanied the motion. Someone was rocking in the dark.
Simon stepped inside and the sickly yellow light from the lamp crawled up a figure on the far side of the room. It had once been a woman. The bony shape was covered in moldering cloth, the remnants of graveclothes. As she rocked forward into the lamplight, Simon saw the toothy grin of a desiccated face still tied with a winding cloth. With her two grey hands, she manipulated a piece of cloth that rested in her lap. She worked bony fingers along the edge of the cloth while the other hand pantomimed pushing a needle and thread. She pulled the imaginary needle up tight, then went back for another stitch along the hem. Sunken eyes followed each of her repetitive mock movements carefully.
Simon cleared his throat. “Mrs. Carter?”
The dead thing paused, but after a second, she began to finger the hem of the cloth again.
Simon glanced back at Kate, who stared in fascinated horror. He slowly crossed the room toward the rocking shape and set the lamp on a small table. The cadaver reached the end of her cloth and stopped, her imaginary needle paused in midair as if lost. Then she straightened out the filthy cloth and pushed the missing needle into the same edge, but now began her imaginary stitching back in the opposite direction.
“Mrs. Carter,” Simon said more firmly, “can you hear me? Would you stop stitching, please?”
There was hesitation with her needle held aloft in her rotting hand. The dead thing seemed confused and unsure of her next step.
Simon reached out and pinched the quivering cloth with two fingers. The cadaver growled wetly in her throat. She stopped rocking and pulled the fabric back. Simon held fast. “Ma’am, your children have asked me to tell you that your work here is done. You have completed your task admirably.”
The dead woman’s brow knitted slightly.
“Yes, ma’am,” Simon continued. “Your daughter would very much like you to return to your rest. She worries about you.”
Dead fingers loosened the pressure on the fabric, leaving bits of flesh on the cloth as Simon slipped it from her grasp. He set it carefully on the table next to the lamp. The cadaver’s hands dropped flat on her lap and she sat motionless.
“Will you come with me, ma’am? I will go with you back to your place.”
The dead thing moaned. Simon tensed. He heard Kate shift behind him, most likely readying a vial. But the cadaver simply rose to her feet like an exhausted old woman. Simon extended his arm toward the door. The corpse gathered the tattered shroud around her and shuffled forward.
Kate backed out into the hallway ahead of the dead woman. The extent of the decay was clear now and the horrible stains on her graveclothes were obvious.
Simon said, “Kate, go down and warn Penny. She and Charles may not wish to see this.”
A loud gasp from the top of the stairs showed that Penny was already a witness to her mother’s corpse staggering into the hallway. The young woman’s horrified gaze was locked on the thin figure of her mother. Her hands covered her mouth and tears began to stream down her face.
Simon called out, “It’s all right, Penny. She’s willing to go back. I’ll ensure she reaches her rest safely.”