beginning. She felt Kyra then, close beside her, breathing right into her ear, and the singed popcorny smell of her tickled her nose.
Tell us a little
, said Kyra, but then she whispered,
but not too much or we’ll gobble you up, and it will not be our fault
.
Where is Kyra?
asked the chorus of voices.
Stand with us, sister
.
And Kyra disappeared from Ophelia’s side again.
Tell us your story
, demanded the ghost girls.
“Well, my name is Ophelia,” she said. “Ophelia Jane Worthington-Whittard and I was born in Wandsworth, but later we moved to Kensington. I have a sister called Alice.She’s very pretty. And a father; his name is Malcolm. And a mother, or I had a mother, but she died. Her name was Susan. But anyway, my father came here to put together an exhibition. It’s called
Battle: The Greatest Exhibition of Swords in the History of the World
. I don’t know if you’ve heard of it. And he has to get it ready in only three days because something happened to the last sword expert—I’m not sure what. He had to leave or something. My father knows everything about swords. Absolutely everything.”
These are not the stories we wish to hear
, whispered the voices, very close.
Who was your mother?
they asked in unison, stroking her hair.
Tell us your story
, they said, fiddling with her buttons.
What did she sing to you at night? What did she say to you in the morning? Did she ever dance you on the top of her shoes?
Careful
, whispered Kyra in her ear.
Stand with us, sister!
shouted the voices, and Kyra was gone again.
“Why don’t you tell me
your
stories?” said Ophelia, heeding Kyra’s warning.
There was a brief silence before a cacophony of whispers.
Who are we, who are we, who are we?
whispered the voices.
We are Matilda. Our father was big as a mountain. We are Tess. We were apprenticed to the illuminator. We are Greer. Our mother had golden hair
. All around her, Ophelia heard the memories recited.
We loved to dance. We loved to sing. We loved to walk on the dew. We loved to leave our footprints in the snow. We are Kara. We are Sally. We are Mira. We had green eyes. Our father could hold us in the palm of his hand, so small were we. We could holdour breath underwater to the count of ten. We are Judith. We are Johanna. We are Carys
.
Finally, close,
We are Kyra. We lived in an apartment quite close to here. On the snowy streets, in the snowy city. Oh, but we had hair like fire
.
Ophelia felt an arm loop inside of hers. The tiniest breath of a voice.
I will help you
, Kyra said.
There is not far to go now, but the way is treacherous
.
Ophelia became aware of a light, a distant glimmer. Its appearance seemed to distress the ghost girls. They moaned and cried.
Do not look forward
, they said.
Look away, look away. The light will take you into the sky
.
But Kyra stayed close by her side.
“Are you looking at it?” whispered Ophelia.
Of course not
, said Kyra.
But as she moved toward the light, Ophelia noticed that it was only the outline of a light shining from behind a door. “It’s a door,” she said. “Nothing else. It’s just another room.”
But how the ghost children lamented and cried.
Turn away
, they cried.
Kyra, we must go. Turn back, turn back, do not look at the light
.
We are going to help her
, said Kyra. Then, as though she had to think of the right word,
I am going to help her
.
Which caused great torment. A great moaning and crying and wailing.
On the other side of the light, there are the snow leopards
, said Kyra into Ophelia’s ear,
and they will tear you to shreds without me
.
“But what will happen to you?”
I am already dead
, said Kyra.
They were close to the door now, and the ghost girls were shouting at the sheer calamity.
You will not leave us
, they said.
No one leaves us. We will miss you too much. You must remain. Kyra, we are all for one and one for all
.
But Ophelia felt Kyra close by her side. She felt the other children, their running,
Tell us a little
, said Kyra, but then she whispered,
but not too much or we’ll gobble you up, and it will not be our fault
.
Where is Kyra?
asked the chorus of voices.
Stand with us, sister
.
And Kyra disappeared from Ophelia’s side again.
Tell us your story
, demanded the ghost girls.
“Well, my name is Ophelia,” she said. “Ophelia Jane Worthington-Whittard and I was born in Wandsworth, but later we moved to Kensington. I have a sister called Alice.She’s very pretty. And a father; his name is Malcolm. And a mother, or I had a mother, but she died. Her name was Susan. But anyway, my father came here to put together an exhibition. It’s called
Battle: The Greatest Exhibition of Swords in the History of the World
. I don’t know if you’ve heard of it. And he has to get it ready in only three days because something happened to the last sword expert—I’m not sure what. He had to leave or something. My father knows everything about swords. Absolutely everything.”
These are not the stories we wish to hear
, whispered the voices, very close.
Who was your mother?
they asked in unison, stroking her hair.
Tell us your story
, they said, fiddling with her buttons.
What did she sing to you at night? What did she say to you in the morning? Did she ever dance you on the top of her shoes?
Careful
, whispered Kyra in her ear.
Stand with us, sister!
shouted the voices, and Kyra was gone again.
“Why don’t you tell me
your
stories?” said Ophelia, heeding Kyra’s warning.
There was a brief silence before a cacophony of whispers.
Who are we, who are we, who are we?
whispered the voices.
We are Matilda. Our father was big as a mountain. We are Tess. We were apprenticed to the illuminator. We are Greer. Our mother had golden hair
. All around her, Ophelia heard the memories recited.
We loved to dance. We loved to sing. We loved to walk on the dew. We loved to leave our footprints in the snow. We are Kara. We are Sally. We are Mira. We had green eyes. Our father could hold us in the palm of his hand, so small were we. We could holdour breath underwater to the count of ten. We are Judith. We are Johanna. We are Carys
.
Finally, close,
We are Kyra. We lived in an apartment quite close to here. On the snowy streets, in the snowy city. Oh, but we had hair like fire
.
Ophelia felt an arm loop inside of hers. The tiniest breath of a voice.
I will help you
, Kyra said.
There is not far to go now, but the way is treacherous
.
Ophelia became aware of a light, a distant glimmer. Its appearance seemed to distress the ghost girls. They moaned and cried.
Do not look forward
, they said.
Look away, look away. The light will take you into the sky
.
But Kyra stayed close by her side.
“Are you looking at it?” whispered Ophelia.
Of course not
, said Kyra.
But as she moved toward the light, Ophelia noticed that it was only the outline of a light shining from behind a door. “It’s a door,” she said. “Nothing else. It’s just another room.”
But how the ghost children lamented and cried.
Turn away
, they cried.
Kyra, we must go. Turn back, turn back, do not look at the light
.
We are going to help her
, said Kyra. Then, as though she had to think of the right word,
I am going to help her
.
Which caused great torment. A great moaning and crying and wailing.
On the other side of the light, there are the snow leopards
, said Kyra into Ophelia’s ear,
and they will tear you to shreds without me
.
“But what will happen to you?”
I am already dead
, said Kyra.
They were close to the door now, and the ghost girls were shouting at the sheer calamity.
You will not leave us
, they said.
No one leaves us. We will miss you too much. You must remain. Kyra, we are all for one and one for all
.
But Ophelia felt Kyra close by her side. She felt the other children, their running,
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