The Ghost Box

Chapter 9

A Soul for a Soul

Matt had a flashlight, but as he came into the room it failed, and the light sparked out. Quickly Sarah jumped up and grabbed the curtains. As she flung them wide a bright flood of moonlight spilled into the room. She saw the boy fixing Matt with a stare of cold hate.

“What have you done?” he hissed.

Matt held the key tight. “Sarah had a key made, but I took it from under her pillow and put another one there. All that one opens is the padlock on my bike.”

“You’ve spoiled everything,” the boy snapped.

Sarah shook her head. “But why?”

Matt came in and leaned against the vanity table. “He knows why.”

The boy looked down. He clasped his bony hands tight together in silent agony. “I can’t tell you,” he whispered. “If I do I’m trapped here for ever.”

“Well, you’re in luck, here’s someone who can tell her.” Matt nudged the door wider with his foot and with a shock Sarah saw that someone else was standing just outside. A tall man in a dark coat, his glasses catching the moonlight. It was Morgan Rees.

He said, “So it’s true.”

“You!” Sarah was amazed. “How did you ...?”

“He saw me talking to you, and next time I passed there he was waiting for me,” Matt said. “He was worried about you.”

Morgan Rees was staring intently at the ghost of the boy. “I was very concerned. And now, to see him! I read the words on the box, and I have heard of such spells, but I have never seen – ”

“What spells?” Sarah’s voice was sharp with anger. “Explain this to me.”

Morgan Rees stepped into the moonlight. Like Matt, he wore a long dark coat. For a moment she had the crazy thought that they were like master and apprentice.

“I was dismayed when I read the letters on the box. Let me read them to you now.”

“No!” The boy’s face was full of anguish. “If you do … she’ll know.”

“She has to know.” Rees took the box that Sarah held out to him and turned the letters to the light. “This writing is old. The language is Latin. It says that the box is made to hold a soul, and whoever opens the box and frees the soul trapped inside it will, in turn, be punished by having their own soul take its place. This is true, boy, isn’t it?”

The boy was still for a moment. Then his shoulders sagged. “Yes.”

Sarah said, “But you told me ...”

“It was all true, what I told you. Only that the curse was not for all time. It was just until I could get someone to open this, and take my place.” His voice was sullen and miserable. “And I nearly did.”

She stared at him in horror. “You would have let that happen? To me?”

He shrugged and a fragment of mud fell from his shoulders to the floor. “Why should I care who it was? You, him, anyone would do. I’d be free! Free from haunting this darkness, from this terrible cold place! All night I lie in the leaves and the tree sways above me and there’s no one!”

She watched him, half angry, half sorry for him. Then she looked at the box, and at Morgan Rees. “What can we do? There has to be something we can do. If it’s a spell, surely it can be broken?”

“It’s possible.” Morgan Rees said, looking at Sarah. “But it will be a risk. Both for you and your brother.”

“He’s not my brother!”

The tall man frowned. “But I thought ...”

“Step-brother.” Matt’s voice was quiet. “What do you mean, risk? And why us?”

Rees looked grave. “The box is made to hold only one soul. It cannot hold two. If two people open it together, strong in their trust in each other, then the spell would be broken. The curse would shiver into nothingness. Or so I believe ...”

Sarah was dismayed. “You’re not sure?”

“Not ... completely sure. But it is all I can suggest.”

She felt confused and unhappy. She said, “Yes, but the trouble is that Matt and I ... well, we’re not ...”

Her words dried up. She didn’t know how to finish. For a moment there was silence, and then she heard the boy sigh. He stood and moved back out of the light, a shadow at the window. He looked out at the moon-lit fields and hills. “I was only a pickpocket. I didn’t deserve this. But it’s up to you, Sarah.”

She was silent for a moment. Then she took her bathrobe, wrapped it around herself and tightened the belt. She walked over to Matt and looked right into his face. “I’m sorry. About ... being so horrible. Even though that Goth stuff is stupid.”

“I’m sorry you were, too.” He grinned. “And I’m sorry about what I said. But do you really want to try this, Sarah? Because if we mess up, one of us might be the ghost that haunts this house for the next hundred years.”

She glanced over at the boy, his pale, hopeless face.

“I’m ready if you are.”

For a moment Matt was still. Then he turned to Morgan Rees. “All right,” he said in a quiet voice. “Tell us what to do.”