Zara's room was large enough that the moonlight coming through the tall windows only reached so far before the far corners stayed dim.
The rest of it caught well enough the dresser, the jewelry laid out across its surface, the earrings and bracelets and necklaces that glittered quietly where the light touched them.
Zara herself was on the bed, legs folded, the plain wooden box sitting in both her hands.
She had been staring at it for a while now.
No message had come.
She turned the box over once, then set it right again. It was possible something had been sent and hadn't arrived. It was equally possible nothing had been sent at all.
The box didn't come with instructions after all. Besides the only way she had any idea about the box was through Ronan's explanation in the first place .
She picked up the key from the covers beside her and wound it carefully. Once. Twice. Three times.
Then she held the box up slightly and cleared her throat.
"Hello, Mr. Ronan. It seems you had not sent any message, or perhaps it wasn't delivered. I wanted to make sure."
She paused.
"There are also some questions I would like to ask."
Another pause, longer this time. She had been composing them in her head since before dinner and they had rearranged themselves several times since.
"Ahem. I apologise if any of these questions cause discomfort or come across as disrespectful. I mean no such thing."
She straightened slightly.
"May I know whether you have figured out if we are actually far from each other? The distance, I mean." She hesitated. "You may choose not to tell me your location. That is entirely your decision."
She had started to wave her hand at the box before she caught herself and lowered it.
"I also wanted to ask . Does Mr. Ronan come across these kinds of magical things often? Because if you do, I would genuinely like to hear about it. I would of course compensate you for your time in whatever way seems appropriate."
She shifted slightly on the bed.
"A-And lastly. I would like to ask about a situation one of my friends came across recently."
She told it carefully. " A friend of mine had been telling me about the time she snuck into her father's office something she had apparently done more than once and that was when she saw it. A figure standing inside the room, hazy at the edges, not quite solid. "
"She had assumed at first it was a person, but no person looked like that , from what she said the person was definitely not normal and had an eerie feeling to him ."
"She has not spoken about it to many people," Zara added. "But it has been sitting with her. I thought — if Mr. Ronan knows anything about this kind of thing, it may help."
She lowered the box slightly.
"That is everything. I hope this message reaches you well."
A brief pause.
"Goodbye, Mr. Ronan."
She set the box down on the dresser beside the key. Then she sat back on the edge of the bed and pressed one hand flat against her chest.
"Phew."
She let the breath out slowly her hands to her chest .
"That was nerve-wracking," she mumbled to herself .
She sat there another moment, then reached over and put the box in the drawer.
---
The office Lyro used was larger than it looked from the doorway. Three gas lamps burned along the walls, their light uneven and flickering slightly, throwing long shadows across the shelves and the stacks of documents covering most of the desk.
Compared to Percy's room at home it was considerably more space than one person needed, which seemed consistent with everything else about Lyro.
Percy sat across from him. Lyro had a few documents open in front of him but wasn't reading them anymore. He was looking at Percy with both hands clasped together, fingers laced, the top of his hands covering his mouth. His eyes hadn't moved.
"First and foremost," Lyro said, "I would like to ask ; who have you told about the incident this morning?"
Percy blinked. The tone had shifted enough that it took him a moment to recalibrate.
"Why is he suddenly so serious."
"No one in particular," Percy said.
Something in Lyro's shoulders settled. He leaned back, unclasped his hands, and let out a quiet breath.
"Good. Good." He nodded slowly. "That was important."
Percy knitted his brows. "Which part, exactly? You chasing me, or you urinating on a public wall?"
Lyro shot out of his seat.
"*Shush.*" He pointed at the walls with some urgency. "Idiot. Walls have ears."
Percy raised both hands. "Alright. Alright."
Lyro straightened his coat, sat back down, and composed himself.
"So," Percy said. "Which is it?"
Lyro cleared his throat. "You mentioned reading the basic documents this morning."
"I did. I believe it was about spirits, souls. Didn't get far though the pages though."
Lyro nodded slowly and seemed to think for a moment about where to begin. Then without further explanation his outline started going hazy.
The sensation returned in Percy's chest immediately. He straightened in his chair.
"Oh"
And just as quickly as it had come, it was gone. Lyro sat across from him looking entirely normal again, hands resting on the desk.
"That," Lyro said, "is the Haunted state."
Percy nodded. He had seen it twice now and it still made something in his chest react before his mind caught up.
"In that state I can use abilities," Lyro continued. "And by abilities i don't mean simple things like doing regular things but beyond ordinary"
Percy raised one hand. "It's fine. Continue."
He didn't need the preamble. He had enough of a general idea from the context to follow along without a full definition. Since he did read lots of novels before . Lyro seemed mildly surprised but nodded.
"Each Haunted has abilities tied to the type of spirit they've integrated," he said. "And depending on the spirit, there is an Oath that comes with it."
Percy frowned. "Oath?"
"Yes. Oath." Lyro folded his hands again. "In my case, the spirit I carry is a Poltergeist. Which means my Oath is the Oath of Disturbance."
Percy stared at him.
"Poltergeist!?"
"I'm fairly certain that's the name of a bloody ghost."