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  Haunt

  The Sin-Eater Chronicles: Book 1

  by Heather Hambel Curley

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by Heather Hambel Curley

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.

  Cover design by Rebecca Frank

  Dedication

  To Billy, Tommy, and Jimmy—you’re my greatest inspiration

  Mom—thanks for putting up with making all those reenacting dresses

  Sara and Jocelyn—my best friends and biggest cheerleaders

  Nick and Kelly—Pockets and my sister, there’s no one I’d rather partake in shenanigans with

  And as always, to Dad: I miss you.

  War has taught us, as nothing else could, what we can be and are.

  —Oliver Wendell Holmes “Bread and Newspapers,” Atlantic Monthly September 1861

  One

  The tea was scalding. I was surprised the liquid wasn’t actually bubbling anymore, since it appeared our host took it from the fire directly to the cup. She was still looking at me, her youthful face frozen in hopeful smile. “You did say two spoonfuls of sugar, right Adelaide?”

  I resisted the impulse to spit the tea back into the cup, instead choking the boiling mouthful down in one gulp. It wouldn’t have surprised me in the least if steam was streaming out of my nose. Gritting my teeth together, I forced a smile. “I did, Mary, thank you. It’s…ah, it’s a delight.”

  Across the parlor from me, my best friend Annie Frankel snorted, clearly holding back laughter. She—wisely—held her teacup and saucer poised in front of her.

  I rolled my eyes. It was more appealing to suffer a fuzzy-feeling tongue for a few days than appear less than a lady in front of my fellow Society members. There’d be talk. Besides, Mary was only thirteen. She was the youngest of us all.

  My choking and sputtering did not go without notice by the Society head, Lucy Daingerfield. She cast a disapproving glance over her own teacup—I noticed she hadn’t taken a sip—and then said, “It has been three hundred and forty-seven days since a Shadow was seen in Harpers Ferry, Virginia. I call this meeting of the Harpers Ferry Ladies Society to order. May our scribe make it known that in attendance today are Miss Annabeth Frankel, Misses Adelaide and Emeline Randolph, Miss Mary Roeder, Miss Susan Hamilton, and of course, myself. Now—”

  “Wait one moment, Lucy!” Susan squinted down at her stack of paper. “I can’t write as fast as you can talk. Three hundred and forty-seven, you said? Are you absolutely certain?”

  I stared down at my teacup and idly traced the dainty floral pattern with my fingertip, carefully avoiding making eye contact with Lucy. If there was anything she hated, it was pushback from one of us. It was bad enough that she thought she was prettier, richer, and more popular than any other female in town, but she was also of the opinion her words should be handled as one might the word of God. And if our “scribe” transcribed something wrong? You’d think it was God’s wrath she could summon.

  She must have been in a fairer mood than normal.

  “Of course I’m right, you twit. We chased that creature down from Jefferson Rock and you’re damn lucky Annie had the wits about her to fend it off with sage. The holy water did nothing. Nothing, Susan, and I’ll remind you again that was your idea.”

  “Probably because you did it wrong.” Annie elbowed Mary Roeder in the ribs and snorted, trying to choke back another laugh. “I feel as if there’s more to it than muttering incantations you stole from a ‘supposed’ book of witchcraft.”

  Mary Roeder looked terrified.

  But Lucy ignored the outburst, sitting silently for a few moments until Susan was ready. She then cleared her throat and continued with her soliloquy. “Might the scribe also make note that the Harpers Ferry Ladies Society wishes to thank Miss Mary Roeder for opening her parlor to us for our meeting today and for supplying our tea and cakes.”

  Mary’s face turned red and she looked down at her hands. She desperately wanted Lucy’s approval. I wanted to take her aside and let her know it wasn’t worth it, but it would be a waste. She was thirteen. All she saw was Lucy’s glossy hair and silk gowns; all she wanted was to be that woman.

  I, personally, would rather be a lamp post than be Lucy. But I’d known her for far longer.

  Lucy loudly cleared her throat and glared at Susan. “Well?”

  “I’m ready, keep going.”

  “I did, however, receive note from our Sisters in Frederick that a spirit was seen along the banks of the Rappahannock. Chase was given but the creature retreated from where it came.” Lucy closed her eyes and thought for a moment. “Unless there is anything from our last meeting we should revisit—”

  “I beg your pardon.” My sister held her hand up. “We’re just going to mention a spirit in passing and move on? Was there no concern on their behalf? They did nothing?”

  “I said, they gave chase.”

  Emme blew out a sharp breath. Her eyebrow was already arched up, the first haughty indicator of her disapproval. “If they chased it, they should have caught it.”

  “Are you saying less than appropriate effort was given?”

  “No, what I said—”

  I dug my elbow into her ribs, widening my eyes at her: what I wanted to do was clap my hand over her mouth.

  She set her mouth in a sweet, delicate smile. Her eyebrow was still arched up. “I’m not suggesting they didn’t give valid effort. I’m merely questioning why they wouldn’t pursue it until was destroyed. It’s one now, but how long until it’s more?”

  Annie nodded in agreement. “If we lose Frederick, we’re lost.”

  “Would you listen to yourselves? It was one spirit, a rogue.” Lucy laughed lightly. “If anyone can handle themselves against a creature, it’s Lorena Mayfield. I’m sure it’s fine. Now, can we continue? Honestly, the things you girls worry about.”

  Annie and I exchanged a glance. If it had been one of our rivers here in Harpers Ferry, we’d have sent that thing back to Hell.

  “I shall turn the meeting over to Miss Adelaide Randolph, for a briefing on the latest in fashion and Parisian gossip.”

  Parisian gossip? What the hell was the matter with her? I cleared my throat and handed my teacup to Emme. “Today I have with me the latest issue of Godeys Ladies Magazine—August 1859, Susan—which features a very interesting article on headdresses for balls. According to Moniteur—”

  Susan didn’t even look up. “Spell that, Addy.”

  I was irritated, but complied. In the grand scheme of things, none of this mattered. Not a pointless fashion report. “As I was saying, according to Moniteur, ‘Headdresses for balls are nearly always round, but much fuller behind and at the sides than in the front. They are generally a mixture of velvet, gold, and silver ribbon, pearls, and even diamonds.’”

  “Diamonds.” Lucy sighed in approval. “Could you imagine the sparkle once candlelight hits hair bejeweled in diamonds?”

  “Seems a bother to me, if you’re necking with an Armory worker and they just dig into your skull.” Annie held her teacup to her lips, but didn’t take a drink. “It probably isn’t the best choice when hunting spirits and shadows. You wouldn’t want diamonds bouncing all over the place, now would you?”

  I offhandedly nodded in response and studied the magazine I’d brought with me. “I believe they attach like our normal baubles, with the pin going straight through the hair. I doubt the matter of spirit chasing
was taken into consideration during their construction.” Thumbing carefully through the pages of Godeys, I stopped at a full color plate. The four ladies in the picture were clothed in beautiful gowns, each with a flounced skirt. Holding up the magazine, I said, “Notice if you will the hair adornments of the lady on the far right. Her hair is parted down the middle and has ringlets beside her ears. Although I cannot ask her to turn around so we can see the back, I am assured by the article I read you ladies that her hair must be pulled into a chignon. The fullness, of course, is made by a cleverly hidden hairpiece. Notice the woman standing to her left. Her hair adornment is made of the same red and evergreen garland as the sash on her gown. It seems to me that she used excess garland and constructed a matching hairpiece. It is a lovely way to ensure precise exactness.”

  The ladies nodded in agreement. Susan said, “I once lost a hairpiece in the middle of a round dance. It fell directly on the floor, right beside all the couples as they flitted around the dance floor. I heard someone squeal out, ‘whose hank of hair is this?’ but I never admitted to it. I just faced the wall with that side of my hair so no one would see it was flatter than the opposite side.”

  Annie and Emme looked delighted. Mary Roeder still looked terrified.

  Lucy said, “I was at that dance, you slag. I first thought it was some kind of dead varmint.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek so I didn’t burst out laughing. When I contained myself, I handed the magazine to Annie and said, “I highly recommend the purchase of this edition of Godeys as there are also several beautiful needlework patterns within its pages.”

  Lucy nodded in approval. “Thank you, Miss Randolph.”

  “It was, in fact, my pleasure.” I exhaled slowly and adjusted my hoop skirt to retire to my seat next to the somewhat drafty window. I almost started laughing at the thought of missing the chair and landing on the floor in a mess of petticoats and hoops. Lucy would probably insist on my dismissal from the Society on account of vulgarity.

  As self appointed president of the Harpers Ferry Ladies Society, Lucy Daingerfield had the distinction of being able to allow and forbid members into our club. Membership required the ability to communicate and, more importantly, destroy walking spirits. We were the daughters of dead mothers. We were the Secret Six: protecting the living from the dead.

  Still, she forbade every potential new member. I felt there was something irksome about it all, since we had started the society before any other member had reached the age of ten. Since that time, only one other person had been allowed in: Mary Roeder.

  Lucy smoothed down her flawless blonde hair and turned to the next speaker of the meeting. “Miss Frankel will now speak briefly on local interest items pertaining to our fair town.”

  Annie rose from her chair, her pale yellow dress contrasting sharply with her black hair and equally dark eyes. “In matters pertaining to the living: according to sources—who I will not reveal—Miss Elizabeth Wade is once again engaged, this time to a gentleman from Charlestown. He is apparently a ‘dashing young lawyer’ and will finally earn Elizabeth the social stature she thinks she deserves. You may all recall her comments after the departure of her last beau.”

  I exchanged a glance with my sister. Elizabeth had registered to marry Mr. Cook only months prior and then decided she didn’t want to be the wife of a school master, lock tender, or book agent—she was much above that. In my own private review of the situation, I would have been more concerned that the man couldn’t decide which of his multiple occupations he preferred and he talked incessantly. Our Society reflected on his abrupt departure from Harpers Ferry for weeks.

  Annie continued. “Mrs. MacGrogen has gone into confinement, and speculation has it that Mrs. Hayes will soon go as well. This, as you all may be aware, will be Mrs. Hayes first child.”

  “Of note, Mrs. Hayes was in the family way prior to her marriage to Mr. Hayes.” Lucy fluttered her eyelashes. “Don’t put that in the minutes, Susan.”

  “Finally,” Annie glared at Lucy, “though it does not pertain to our fair town, Mr. Ebersole received a letter from his cousin in London. They dedicated a new bell in May and are calling it ‘Big Ben.’ I find it to be quite charming to imagine a bell named Ben. As for matters pertaining to the dead, as Lucy previously noted, it has been three hundred forty-seven days since a spirit has been seen in Harpers Ferry. Excellent work, ladies.”

  “Thank you, Miss Frankel.” Lucy nodded in approval at Annie as she took her seat. “As for matters of new business, I’ll go first.” As you all know, my eighteenth birthday is quickly approaching. I am planning an extravagant party; do be sure to make time for a get together in October.”

  Oh boy. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. When I turned eighteen a few months prior, it certainly didn’t warrant announcement at a Society meeting, nor did the eighteenth birthdays of Annie or Susan earlier in the year. Perhaps that was just another advantage Lucy created for herself. She seemed to do that a lot.

  Lucy plowed on. “Second order of new business. I propose to my fellow Society members the idea of initiating a sewing circle. Those women from the Frederick Ladies Society had an article written about them in the Virginia Free Press last month. Absurd.”

  Susan didn’t look up from her note-taking. “We talked about that last month, Lucy. I think they auctioned a quilt off to help fund the construction of the new Episcopal Church in Frederick City.”

  “The Frederick Ladies are vile.” Lucy narrowed her eyes. “It gives us opportunity to convene together and watch for spirits. That accident at the Armory last year? The last time we saw a spirit? It was nearly on top of Susan and if Emeline hadn’t been there…well, my God. Imagine.”

  “But a lone spirit along the Rappahannock? We don’t pay mind to that.” I hissed to my sister.

  Lucy’s lips tightened into a line so thin and tight that the plump part of her bottom lip practically disappeared into her face. “I’m sorry, Adelaide, what was that?”

  “I said we should take a vote.”

  “I second the motion.” Annie held her hand up, waving her fingers at Lucy. “Those in favor?”

  Each in attendance nodded.

  “Very well, unanimous.” Lucy again grinned, clearly pleased her idea passed. “Does anyone else have new business? More to say, Adelaide?”

  I averted my eyes from Lucy’s face and feigned interest in a large crack in the wall’s plaster. The other girls were as silent as me.

  “Very well, Scribe, please note that our next meeting shall be in one week. It will be hosted by Miss Frankel. Thank you for your attendance, ladies. Be alert. Be cautious. And always be attuned to Those we cannot see. I declare this meeting finished.”

  Thank God.

  “Thank you all for coming.” Mary always sounded embarrassed when she spoke, and likely because of her Prussian accent, she did it very little. “My Pa was very excited to show you the confectionary and how he makes his sweet cakes.”

  “I’d eat some more.” Annie offered.

  Lucy clucked her tongue. “Your cheeks are round enough as it is, Annie. At least you aren’t fragile looking like Adelaide and Emeline, but Lord knows if your head wasn’t attached to your neck, it’d roll right down the street.”

  I caught Annie’s arm in mine, linking them together, and grabbed my hat from sister’s outstretched hand. “Come along, now, my dear, let’s be on our way. You know how dreadful it is trying to get down the street when the Armory workers are headed to lunch.”

  Emme’s face was red from holding back her laughter. “Goodbye Mary, thank you for the lovely hospitality and good day!”

  We burst out of the stuffy Roeder home and out onto the street. Susan appeared in the doorway. “Hold on, I have to give Lucy today’s minutes.”

  I rolled my eyes. Of course, the rest of us walked home from Society meetings, but Lucy insisted one of her father’s staff pick her up in the carriage. Yes, the roads in Harpers Ferry were muddy, often with standing puddles of
water or urine, and the occasional pile of shit. It never changed, though, and I doubted it ever would.

  Annie was still grumbling. “Her father isn’t even a permanent worker, from what I heard, and just the paymaster’s clerk. Not the paymaster. Someone needs to remind her.”

  “Not me.” I stopped beside Annie, letting my eyes lazily drift up the hill before me. From where I stood, I could clearly see the steeple of St. Peter’s Catholic church. I dreaded walking up the steep, stone steps to the churches that stood guard over town. The rough hewn rocks were slippery and, being Episcopalian, my family had to walk far past St. Peter’s to our church, St. Johns. I didn’t know many who attended the Catholic church, probably because most of them were Irish.

  Susan finally scampered out of the Roeder home. “Sorry. I don’t know why Lucy insists on keeping the minutes. I’m the secretary, after all. She made me be the secretary.”

  “I wasn’t aware Lucy could write.” Annie tied her bonnet ribbon at her throat. “I thought she had staff to do that for her.”

  Emme covered her mouth with her hand, barely muffling a snort of laughter. “She probably can’t go to the chamberpot alone. Christ, could you imagine her emptying a chamberpot? She’d pass out.”

  We continued down the side street, High Street, and crossed the main Shenandoah Street to head toward home. As tradition, Susan and Annie walked home with us to discuss juicier gossip—usually about Lucy—and study an old book about witchcraft that Annie hid in my bedroom. It was a relic: difficult to read and even harder to understand. There was always the chance it would help, so we kept trying.

  The wind tugged mercilessly at my skirts and I pressed my hands onto my steel hoopskirt to keep it from whipping up and revealing my petticoats. The sky above the bordering Potomac River was colored by the black smoke billowing from the Armory. It visibly settled in the humid afternoon air, thick with sulfur. I often wondered if the famous Harper Ferry Armory tapped down into the depths of Hell, fueled by Satan’s scorn and vehemence. It would explain why the dead seemed to flock here. It made sense: all the guns manufactured there were potential weapons of war for the United States government.