L.R. Lam's Blog, page 36

WFC Update

The last progress report for the World Fantasy Convention went up, and it was really dismissive and terrible. Especially when it downplayed the harassment incident I blogged about earlier, reporting actual lies and using charged victim-blaming language:

“Regrettably, we learned of one small harassment incident that occurred on the Saturday night when an extremely drunken fan made a nuisance of himself in the hotel Lobby. Unfortunately, he was not reported to either of the professional Security guards who were on duty at the time or any member of the con committee. As a result, by the time we had found out about the incident and ascertained the details, the individual concerned (who was not attending the Awards Banquet) had apparently already left the convention.”

I’m going to break down the inaccuracies. Alex Dally MacFarlane already did a great breakdown of the victim-blaming language here, and Emma Maree, one of my friends who was harassed, spoke up about her experience here.

1. we learned of one small harassment incident

I know that there was one man who harassed at least three women, and I heard rumours of two other people who were also crossing the line.

2.  an extremely drunken fan made a nuisance of himself in the hotel Lobby

The person wasn’t a fan, but in industry professional. This also is distancing, as WFC kept banging on about how this was an industry convention, not a fan convention (while still happily taking fan’s memberships). And it was nowhere near “making a nuisance of himself.” He made my friends deeply uncomfortable. I’m not even sure if it was in the Lobby, either.

3. he was not reported to either of the professional Security guards who were on duty at the time or any member of the con committee

I was the one who helped Emma and my other friend find someone to speak to, so this very much raised my hackles. I didn’t see any professional security guards, and even if I had seen them, I would have thought they were hired by the hotel and not the con, so I probably wouldn’t have gone to them. And it was indeed reported to a member of the con committee, another friend of mine (and this person reacted really well). The paragraph makes it sound like there was a huge delay before the incident was reported. It was maybe an hour, tops.

This is why, in my previous blog post, I stressed the importance of having a clear harassment policy in place. You can’t get mad at people for not following a policy that doesn’t exist. That makes no sense.

4. As a result, by the time we had found out about the incident and ascertained the details, the individual concerned (who was not attending the Awards Banquet) had apparently already left the convention.”

I was informed that the Board was told at 8 am the next morning about it. Had the person really left that early?

The whole thing leaves a very bad taste in my mouth. And it’s such a shame, too, because despite this huge disappointment, I had fun at WFC, and many people involved did a great job running and volunteering at the con, and this casts a shadow over that. If you care about the safety of your attendees, you don’t blame them in an email sent to every convention attendee. You don’t shame them for being brave enough to come forward. You don’t brush it away under a rug and lie on multiple points to try and make yourself look better. I didn’t really expect the board to do much, but I didn’t expect them to insult my friends, either. It’s like a parody of how I expected them to react.

Free Fiction Friday: “Caesura”

I have some fiction and poetry I wrote in university that I like and would like people to read. However, at the moment I don’t have the time to devote to going on the query merry-go-round with them, nor do I wish to self-pub them. So…I’ll put them on my blog every Friday.

The first one is the shortest poem I ever wrote, and one of my favourites. This was previously published in my university’s literary magazine, Occam’s Razor, in 2009 (volume 27).

“Caesura”

She had her last period

only to find that it was a comma,

a pause before a new idea,

new life,

comma spliced.

Shadowplay Goodreads Giveaway

There’s a Goodreads giveaway live for 3 copies of Shadowplay that runs right up until just before launch. Which is, goodness, only 49 days away. Please go here to enter to win and perhaps add to your to-read shelves? Cyan’s asking nicely.

Pantomime Longlisted for the Catalyst Book Award & California Shadowplay Events

This morning I noticed on Twitter that I’d been added to a Catalyst Book Award list by @LibrariesNL. A few clicks later, I found out Pantomime has been longlisted for the award! Yay! A huge congrats to everyone else on the list From the website: “Catalyst is all about discovering and promoting the most exciting and thought provoking reading for teenagers in North Lanarkshire. This year we have a larger number of books in the longlist which hopefully means we are able to cater for all tastes.

Young people from all 24 North Lanarkshire High schools are encouraged to get involved in the Catalyst experience in a number of ways; from book groups within school or public libraries, to author visits and book reviews on the blog. Young people will then vote on which books in the longlist should make it onto the Catalyst shortlist and go forward to win the Catalyst Book Award 2014.”

So it’s like the NE Teen Book Award in that it’s decided by teens, which is really exciting. I’m really excited to be nominated!

In other news, I haven’t linked to the California Shadowplay events I have booked. Firstly, there will be a launch at Borderland Books in San Francisco. I’ve made a public Facebook event page here – anyone in the Bay Area, please do feel free to come along. I’d love to say hi!

On January 8th, there will be another event at my alma mater, California State University East Bay, as part of their Distinguished Writers series (does this mean I’m distinguished?!) They’ve made a flyer which has all the relevant information here. Would love if you could come to one or both of them!

Previously, on Pantomime…

I’ve written a short summary of the main events in Pantomime to refresh people’s memory before Shadowplay. I know I have a rotten memory when it comes to books, even if I really enjoy them.

However, the summary is fine, but doesn’t really come alive as much as I’d like. So I was thinking it’d be cool if people would comment with scenes they liked and go into more detail about them. What scene in Pantomime stuck in your head? Please post. I’ll feel so sad if there are no comments!

So, without further ago, the Pantomime summary…it, quite obviously, has lots of spoilers!

Remember, Shadowplay is on Netgalley for a limited time for reviewers, and available for pre-order (links here).

…

…

…

HERE BE SPOILERS.

…

…

…

Previously, on Pantomime…

Gene’s story:

Iphigenia Laurus, or Gene, is the 16-year-old daughter of a prominent noble family, the Lauruses. She’d far rather climb trees with her brother, Cyril, and his best friend, Oswin. Gene’s mother, however, would rather her behaving as a proper young woman about to be debuted into society should. When Gene goes to an afternoon tea and Damien Hornbeam discovers her secret, that she was born both male and female, she wonders if she’ll ever feel comfortable in corsets and crinolines and fit into high society.

Gene quietly rebels by climbing scaffolding in the city. One time she takes her brother, and as they sit on a Penglass dome as the sun sets, Gene discovers that she can make the mysterious blue glass glow beneath her touch. A terrible accident results in Cyril breaking his arm and Gene leaves a streak of light behind her as she slides down Penglass to come to his rescue.

During Gene’s debutante ball, when Damien shuns her, she retreats into herself, but her friend Oswin cheers her up. Yet only a few days later, Gene overhears her parents discussing their plan to let the doctors operate to make her appear entirely female – and they’re not planning on telling her they’re doing it. Gene, with the help of her brother and dressed as a boy, runs away from everything she’s ever known.

Life on the streets of Imachara is not easy. She steals, lives in a hovel, is beaten up, and has her money stolen. A spice merchant named Mister Illari briefly takes her in before she is back on the streets with nowhere to go. There, on the beach, she sees the bright lights of the circus, purchases a ticket, and enters the big top.

Micah’s story:

Micah sees R.H. Ragona’s Circus of Magic and watches the show, falling under its spell before exploring the carnival and the freak show tents. When eavesdropping on the circus members after the rubes have gone home, the white clown, Drystan, catches him. At first, the ringmaster thinks he’s a spy, but Micah decides to audition and convinces them to let him join. However, he has to work his way up to a performer, and starts out as a lowly worker, hazed by the other circus members. Aenea, one of the aerialists, shows him the ropes, and before long, he begins to fall for her and she for him, while Micah is confused over his feelings for the white clown, Drystan.

As he tries to sort out his emotions and settle into his new life, his past as Iphigenia haunts him. A Shadow, or private investigator, snoops around the circus. Micah also begins to learn more about Ellada and the role he may have in it: a hologram of a Phantom Damselfly speaks to him, calling him a Kedi, the same name of a mythical being the spice merchant Mister Illari told him about.

Micah tries to keep his head down, focusing on the circus, as they move from Sicion to the small town of Cowl to practice for the big show in Imachara, the capital of Ellada. But the ringmaster’s growing rage and instability puts the circus as risk. Soon, some people leave or are thrown out, and eventually, even the ringmaster’s wife goes missing.

Determined to make the circus the best show in Ellada, the ringmaster decides to interweave the pantomime play of Leander & Iona throughout the circus, and Micah is cast as Iona and Drystan as Leander. In Imachara, Micah and Aenea grow closer, even going for a date in the city to the Mechanical Museum of Antiquities and seeing the Vestige artefacts on display, including a clockwork woman who speaks to Micah. Cyril, Gene’s brother, comes to a circus performance and tries to convince Micah to return home, but Micah refuses, not wanting to go back to his old life.

Just as the season is coming to an end, Micah tells Aenea and Drystan about his sex, and Aenea is far more hurt that she lied, whereas Drystan is inscrutable as ever. After the last pantomime performance, Micah is drugged and wakes up in the ringmaster’s cart. The ringmaster has discovered Micah’s true identity and blackmails him for money to save the dying circus.

Micah escapes his bonds and there is a struggle. Drystan and Aenea come to save him, but in the struggle, Aenea is killed and Drystan strikes the ringmaster with his own cane, killing him. Now fugitives, Drystan and Micah flee R.H. Ragona’s Circus of Magic. However, the clowns, angry at their betrayal, follow him. It’s the Penmoon, and as they’re cornered, Micah remembers what the clockwork woman said to him. He rests both hands on Penglass and it glows so brightly it blinds the clowns, and Micah and Drystan escape.

The circus in ruins behind them, grief-stricken Drystan and Micah take to the streets of Imachara and hope that somehow they can make amends for what has happened. Drystan says he knows someone who may be able to take them in: a magician.

Prominent characters:

Gene Laurus/Micah Grey: Our protagonist.

R.H. Ragona: The ringmaster of the circus: power-hungry, drunk, violent, and prone to gambling. Built the circus from nothing and will stop at nothing to keep it.

Drystan Hornbeam: The White Clown of the circus and leader of the clowns. Also an estranged son of one of the most powerful families in Ellada, the Hornbeams. He left under mysterious circumstances.

Aenea Harper: the aerialist in the circus who helps teach Micah the ropes, and then becomes a love interest.

Arik (real unfortunate name: Regar Bupnik): The older aerialist in the circus, who hopes Micah will take over for him when he retires.

Jive: The red clown, and the main person responsible for Micah’s hazing.

Cyril Laurus: Gene’s brother and staunch supporter.

Oswin Hawthorne: Cyril’s friend

Gene’s parents

Books Read in October

1. Eleanor & Park – Rainbow Rowell. Can definitely understand the hype. I read it in a day and it made me smile. Reminded a lot of my teenage awkward romance and falling in love. Very sweet.

2. Saga, Volume 2 – Brian K. Vaughan. This is an amazing series. I’m so impatient for volume 3!

3. Locke & Key Volume 5 – Joe Hill. Another amazing series. That ends of a cliffhanger. Noooo!

4-6. Rachel Rising, Volumes 1-3 – Terry Moore. I read this on Steve Aryan’s recommendation, and it didn’t disappoint. A creepy, small town atmosphere with witches, magic, and people who just won’t stay dead. A little Twin Peak-y.

7. The Year of the Flood – Margaret Atwood. I listened to this one on audiobook. As ever, an excellent read of a near-future gone horribly wrong. Split between three narratives, all engaging. I have a signed copy of this from when I saw Atwood speak in Aberdeen a few years ago, and I remember someone asking why she set it partly in a spa. “Well,” she said. “If I had to spend the post-apocalypse somewhere, a spa seems a good enough place. It has fluffy pink towels.”

8. Fables, Volume 1 – Bill Willigham. I decided to start the series over again and catch up, as I’m about 6 volumes behind.

Lots of graphic novels this month, as I got a new tablet so I can read them properly! My old one broke and was an awkward size. I find them extra freeing to read when I’m in the midst of drafting novels as it’s a different medium.

World Fantasy Con 2013

So I’m back from World Fantasy Con in Brighton. I’m exhausted and distinctly under the weather, though I’m feeling a bit better now. It was my first and only convention of the year, I believe, and overall I had a wonderful, amazing time, though I do have one complaint, which I’ll get to after the excited squeeing.

This was my first con since Pantomime came out. It was so cool/bizarre/amazing to have a few people come up to me and say how much they enjoyed Pantomime, both some people I knew and even a few strangers! Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to tell me that. I even met Ellie (@patchworkbunny) who had just started Shadowplay. Thank you to Mieneke (@Pallekenl) for bringing me stroopwaffels

The main highlight for me was being able to meet two of my favourite authors, and find out they’re both really nice people. I met Robin Hobb for the first time, and she gave me a big hug (I managed not to cry, but I came close). She’s been my favourite author since I was 15 and is a big influence, plus I also met my husband through her books. I even brought my husband’s battered childhood copy of Assassin’s Apprentice down to show her (much to his acute embarrassment). I also met Scott Lynch, another of my favourite authors, and got a hug from him too, as well as meeting the amazing Elizabeth Bear, whose books I must go hunt down now. In the photo below, Scott Lynch is wearing my glasses and making a sad face.

It’s strange, meeting authors whose work you admire for the first time. You don’t know them, not really, but you’ve spent so much time in their imaginations. It’s a funny little disconnect.

I wasn’t on any panels, but I managed to sneak on and do a ninja reading with Amy McCulloch, which was fun. Amy’s reading was fantastic, so I felt a bit nervous following on after her. I loved the giant Alice in Wonderland thrones they had in the readings. It was funny going back and reading from Pantomime, since I hadn’t read the start of chapter two in a while. I had to resist the urge to go back and edit .

Photo credit @Girl___Friday

I went to a few of the programming events: the conversation with Terry Pratchett, which was sweet and a little melancholy. The “how far is too far” in YA panel, and the “are all the best books in genre now YA?” The first I found amusing as many of the authors were basically like “we have to discuss this so many times. When will we give the magical answer so that they stop making this panel at every convention?” Which, you know, is a fair point. I particularly enjoyed Francis Hardinge’s responses, and remember her saying something along lines of: “Books are comforting. Books are kind. Books are there when no one else is,” which stuck with me (though not enough for me to quote it verbatim with any certainty). The other YA panel was a veritable panel of YA royalty with Susan Cooper, Garth Nix, Neil Gaiman, Will Hill, and Holly Black. It was a good panel, though it seemed to sidetrack more into “what is YA?” rather than exploring what about YA makes them some of the most exciting works in genre, such as the blending of subgenres, et cetera.

Sir Terry Pratchett

YA Ghosts

On Saturday evening, I went out for dinner with my agent and the 11 or so of her authors that were in attendance! It was really great to meet some of them I only knew online and joke around with several more. There were a LOT of in-jokes spawned. To the left is a photo of Andrew Reid, Stephen Aryan, Tad Williams in the background, and a langoustine. That about sums up the tone of the night.

Mostly, what I came away from this con with was that so many people in genre are kind and welcoming, and it’s nice to geek out and see old faces and meet new ones. It’s fun to blend the lines between author, professional, and fan.

There was a bit of a dark spot on the con, unfortunately, and I did want to discuss it, as the con wasn’t as smooth for others as it was for me. There were complaints before the con about the lack of panel parity and the almost belligerent tone of official correspondence. Additionally, several people mentioned that there was no harassment policy, and this was an answer to the harassment policy FAQ:

“World Fantasy Convention 2013, as with any other predominantly adult gathering, will have a number of rules and regulations for the safety of attendees. These will be clearly stated in our Programme Guide, which will be given to each attendee when they register. In the meantime, we refer you to the UK’s Protection from Harassment Act 1997” (Source).

However, it was later changed to: “World Fantasy Convention 2013 will not tolerate any form of verbal or racial abuse, sexual harassment, aggression, violence or lewd behaviour towards any attendees or members of staff. If reported to our professional Security and Stewards or to a staff member—and substantiated by the event organisers—then any person deemed to have committed such an act will be immediately ejected from the convention without refund and may even be reported to the police under the UK’s Protection from Harassment Act (1997)” (Source).

Even though that’s much better, that’s not a specific, separate harassment policy, which many other conventions have. For example, here’s one for Nine Worlds, which covers what harassment is, what someone should do, also includes an anti-racism statement, and clearly states what will happen if they violate these conditions.

Two of my friends were harassed by a drunk man on Saturday night, making them feel incredibly uncomfortable. They compared notes and realized they should report it, and I helped them find someone to speak to. The organisers responded very well and quickly by taking down the information, but then the person in question was not, as far as they know, removed (though that FAQ answer up above says they would be), nor have they as of now been contacted for a follow up. There was one tweet that they were investigating a sexual harassment claim; however, they weren’t even sure if it was related to their experience, as there was evidently an author who was harassing women as well (though I’m not sure if anyone officially reported about the other person). I’m not mentioning names as I was not directly involved. I do know that these two names have been noted down for Bristolcon, and that they won’t be allowed to attend.

While obviously sexual harassment is protected by law, it would be nice if all cons, no matter how big or small, how professional of fan-oriented, put a harassment policy in place. Sometimes, people are lecherous and deeply unpleasant, but that doesn’t mean that the men or women harassed want to go through legal means and get them arrested. But if there is a policy in place, people who have been made to feel uncomfortable can know who they should contact (my friends couldn’t find any redcoats, as it was pretty late), and it would also make it clear what would happen should someone harass someone else. Ideally, this policy would never have to be enforced, but sadly, harassment is still all-too-common in conventions. By putting a harassment policy on the convention’s website, it’s at the very least a gesture that says to all attendees that the con itself cares about the safety and comfort of their attendees.

EDITED TO ADD: I’ve been informed that the incident was passed to the chairs of the convention at 8 am on Sunday and that the person who reported the incident has been followed up with today I also want to clarify that I’m not attacking WFC, but mainly wished to stress the importance of clear anti-harassment policies for future conventions.

So, aside from that unpleasantness, it was a good con and I enjoyed myself. I’d do a huge name drop of all the wonderful people I saw again and met for the first time, but then we’d be here all day and I’d invariably forget someone. Often I come back after a con drained, but this time as Kim Curran and I took the train back from Brighton, we smiled happily, still buzzing from who we met and what we learned. Until the next con!

November Writing Goals

Today is All Souls Day, aka the first day of NaNoWriMo, where people endeavour to write 50,000 words in a month.

I’ve tried to do it a few times.

I always fail.

I’m not doing NaNoWriMo this month, but I do have some writing goals:

1. Finish the first draft of my WIP (I hit 50,000 words on it yesterday, so now I have a NaNo-length thing! I drafted it in about 2-3 months, though). It does have a working title, but on social media I’ve been referring to it as Bonkers Book. I reckon I have about 20-25k left before the first draft is finished.

2. Try not to freak out as Shadowplay reviews begin to trickle in, and also start ramping up marketing for its release in January. I’ll be working with the publicity people at Strange Chemistry to organise a blog tour. Perhaps write a couple of guest posts in advance, so I’m not absolutely overwhelmed closer to launch.

3. Send off an application to the Scottish Book Trust to be on their author database for Live Literature, to hopefully book more school visits. Nearly done!

So it’s not NaNoWriMo, but it’ll still be a productive month. Overall, I think NaNoWriMo is a great project for people who want to dip into writing. For me, however, the pace is not sustainable (I like to edit as I go, think and figure out a plot snarl rather than racing through it and then having to re-write it), and the stress on word count over anything else ends up kicking my anxiety into gear. I wrote 30k for NaNo last year, and I had to throw it out and start again. Twice. So I know enough about my working style by now to know that NaNoWriMo is not for me.

The community and support is great fun, and I plan to tap into that to help motivate me to finish my draft. I’ll go to some of the Aberdeen meets and maybe do word wars with people online.

What are your November writing goals?

A Farewell to Shadowplay

Today’s a weird day. I woke up to find out Pantomime (and many other great books) has been nominated for a Cybils award.

Now, Shadowplay is now officially on Netgalley. I think I’ll only be up for a month or so, so if you’re a reviewer, grab it sooner rather than later.

This means that the book is now out of my hands and into reviewers, and soon it’ll be available to anyone who wants it. It’s a frightening, bittersweet time.

To celebrate, I’ve updated my Goodreads review of Shadowplay, with some pictures that hint at the interior of the sequel to Pantomime.

I’ve also PDFed the first chapter, and you can read it here to whet your appetite.

For every book, I’ve decided that when it gets to around this point in the publication project, I’ll write it a farewell. I did this with Pantomime last year.

Shadowplay is a very different book to the first one, and writing it was a different process. Pantomime was the first book I ever completed, and I was very much learning as I went. I had to do a huge structural edit. I wrote the first draft to my sophmore book, Shadowplay, much quicker (I blogged about that here). While Shadowplay changed in edits, it never needed the same overhaul the first one did. Some people say the second book can be the most difficult. For me, it wasn’t near as challenging as the third book I’m writing (which is non-Micah related). I re-started it so many times and at the moment it’s on hold while I write my fourth book (also not Micah-related).

It was a pleasure to write Shadowplay. Of course, I ripped out my hair and moaned and whinged plenty and maybe now I’m looking back with rose-tinted glasses because it’s done, but overall, it was a relief to step back into Micah’s shoes and bring him on more adventures. He grows in this book, and I grew too. Certain parts completely took me by surprise, and the finished book is rather different than I initially thought it would be.

I’m no less scared, setting this book out into the world. I mean, this time I do know there were people who enjoyed the first one, but now I’m afraid of letting them down. Now I have pre-conceived expectations to contend with. There will be people who love the first book and hate the second, and there will be people who liked the sequel better than the first. There will be people who just can’t be bothered picking it up and following the series anymore. I have no control over any of it.

All I can do is sit back, let go, and say farewell to Shadowplay.

Fly, little book. I hope you land in the hands of people who will love you as much as I do.

 

Halloween Short: The Ghost of Gold and Grey

I’m venturing down to Brighton for World Fantasy Con on Thursday, or Halloween! It turns out there will be 11 clients of Juliet Mushens there, so to celebrate, fellow Mushenite Andrew Reid has been coordinating a few spooky shorts that some of us are putting up on our blogs prior to WFC.

Other stories from Team Mushens, which are all wonderful:

Andrew Reid – The Tall Men: A Tale of the Ironwood

Stephan Aryan – The Burden of Sin

Richard Kellum – Party at the Witch House

Liz de Jager – Midnight in New York City

Lou Morgan – Murderess Lane

(I’ll come back and link to ones that go up after mine)

My story ties into a WIP that’s currently on hold as I finish up another project and do more research into the time period. But dipping back into it for this reminded me how much I love the setting and the mythos, and I look forward to getting back to it. This short is told from the POV of one of the secondary characters of that novel. I hope you enjoy it.

THE GHOST OF GOLD AND GREY

by Laura Lam

The Highlands, Scotland, 1908.

They said Castle Dunoir was haunted.

The people in the nearby village of Allise Oir gave Irene Lewis sidelong looks when she said she’d found employment at the castle in the Highlands. She’d moved to the village from Aberdeen a few months ago, and her aunt and uncle’s crofter’s cottage was a far cry from the comfortable mansion in Rubislaw Den. Irene helped out, but she was no farmer. She was a lady’s maid.

So she trudged the five miles and knocked on the door to the Baroque castle crouched in the middle of the loch on a rocky peninsula. The gamble worked. Before the week was out she’d moved her carpetbag from the crofter cottage to the castle.

The castle was understaffed, even if only Lord and Lady MacLain lived here with their son, Archibald. They never entertained, and Lord MacLain was often away on business. The lady of the manor floated through the corridors, looking a little fey. She spent a lot of time staring out of windows at the loch, as if searching for something in its depths. The son stayed in his room most of the time, and he must have been the loneliest boy Irene had ever met.

As Irene did her chores, she could swear she was being watched. The hairs along the backs of her arms and neck would prickle, and every few minutes she’d give in and look around. Before long, her nerves were frayed. She noticed the cook, Maura McCray, took a medicinal dose of sherry every night before she left the warmth of the kitchen to brave the dark hallways. No one spent more time alone than they needed to.

On Hallowe’en, the housekeeper, Mrs. Fraser, asked her to fetch more petrol from the cellar to help light the bonfire. They could have brought up the petrol in daylight. Irene recognised it for what it was: a test.

“Come on, lass, surely you can brave the wee ghosties so we can drive the dark away with the bonfire? Ye’ll be the hero of Samhain!” Alan Ramsay, the groundskeeper, teased. The others chimed in.

Irene volunteered readily enough, squaring her shoulders.

“Dinnae let the Sìth or the spirits find you on the way and hurry straight back, lass,” Maura whispered, giving Irene an oil lantern to take with her.

“Aye, I’ll try, Mrs. McCray,” Irene laughed.

Mrs. Fraser told the cook to hush, but Alan the groundskeeper and the footman, Andrew, also wished her luck.

In the dark of the corridor, she wished she’d said no, even though that wasn’t an option. The hallways were frigid, lit only by her lantern and the flickering lights of the occasional tumshie lanterns, the hallowed out turnips Maura had carved with ghoulish faces and placed about the castle, much to Mrs. Fraser’s annoyance.

As she reached the side entrance to the castle, she took a coat from the peg by the side entrance to the castle and wrapped it around herself. Outside, the stars peppered the sky, the west patch of sky coloured the red and orange of dying embers. It felt more like January than late October. Maura had also left a small bowl of wine and a plate of soul cakes by the door, an offering for the spirits.

Rubbing her hands together, Irene scuttled across the frosted ground, and pulled open the wooden door to the cellar with a creak. It seemed as dark as the devil’s waistcoat down there, and she didn’t want to go.

“I’m nae afraid,” she whispered to herself, fiercely, and held the lantern out as she made her way down into the cellar.

It smelled of frost, mouldering vegetables, dust, and wood shavings. The petrol bottle was on a shelf just by the ladder, and she grabbed it, tucking it under the arm and scurrying back up the ladder. The wooden door of the cellar fell shut behind her. Irene smiled. She had done it.

She turned around, and the smile faded as she swallowed a scream. In front of her was a man who definitely had not been there before.

And he didn’t have a face.

She stumbled back, but the man staggered forward, one arm outstretched. He wore boiled leather and chainmail trousers, and the front of the metal-studded tunic was stained dark with old blood. His head was framed by a mane of unkempt hair, but his face was a ruin of blood and bone, breath gasping wetly from the hole that had once been a mouth. And he was transparent, made of grey and black, with small specks of gold. Yet he still looked solid enough that Irene feared he’d do her harm.

“Buggering Jesus!” she screamed. She dropped the lantern and it sparked out.

The man did not react but only came closer, the wet snuffling growing more frantic. As if he could smell her.

Instinct took over. Still clutching the can, she dodged the figure. He moved quicker than she expected. His arm reached for hers, but his fingers went through her, though they were colder than snow. She screamed and ran faster, throwing open the side door, darting inside and slamming it shut. She leaned against but then worried that the ghost would come through the door. Irene ran back to the warmth of the kitchen, the footfalls echoing around her, the carved faces of the tumshie lanterns leering at her.

Andrew was putting two chestnuts in the fire as she entered the kitchen—one for him and one for the girl from the village he was seeing. Before they could see if the nut hulls burned steady and bright, they all looked up, ready to make a merry joke, and then they saw the look on her face. Irene set the petrol on the table with a thump. One of the chestnuts popped in the fire, and Irene flinched. She sat as close to the fire as she dared, shivering, her teeth chattering in her skull like dice in a cup. She still felt the cold imprint of the faceless man’s hand on her arm.

Mrs. Fraser ordered the servants to start the bonfire, and they all left until only the housekeeper and the cook remained. Maura knelt down beside Irene and passed her a glass of whisky. She gulped it down, though it did nothing to warm her left arm.

“Ye saw something out there, didn’t ye?” Maura whispered, stroking Irene’s hair back from her face.

Irene was ashamed to feel tears on her face as she glared at them. “Did ye do this on purpose? Send me out there to scare the living daylights out of me?”

Mrs. Fraser stood tall, unmoved. “I sent ye out there. I had no idea what ye might or might not see. Fit one was it?”

“Which one?” Her voice rose an octave. “There’s more’n one?”

“Fit did ye see, quine?” she repeated in her Doric accent.

“A man…a man with no face. Dressed like an old soldier.”

Mrs. Fraser nodded. “The pikeman.”

The housekeeper knelt down, so close to Irene that the younger girl wanted to lean away.

“The pikeman is not the ghost ye need tae fear,” she whispered, her pupils wide in the light of the fire. “There’s another that haunts this castle, and I think you’re strong enough to face ‘im.”

She stood and held out her arm. “Come. We’ll all go to the bonfire, and we’ll eat sweets and sing, and the spirits will trouble us no more this All Hallow’s Eve. But tomorrow night, you’ll come with me, and I’ll show you the true ghost of Castle Dunoir. And you will help me with him.”