And Giselle’s whirlwinds tore those ribbons of ethereal substance away and dissipated them.
The spirits shrieked their own outrage, and tried frantically to snatch back the bits of themselves that the Elementals were tearing away. They howled, and fought back. But they couldn’t catch either the Elementals or the owls, and as more and more pieces of them were torn away, they grew dimmer and more transparent.
“Keep them busy, Giselle!” Rosamund ordered. “Fox, help me carry Cody out of here! Giselle, follow as soon as you can, they won’t go much past the graveyard!”
How does she know that? Giselle wondered, as Rosamund and Fox each picked up one of Cody’s arms, hauled him to his feet, and stumbled off into the darkness with him. One of the Wisps detached itself from the attacking mob and sped off to give them light, while the rest continued the fight.
When Giselle figured they had enough of a head start—and it looked as if her impromptu army was beginning to tire—she retreated, step by step, backward, hoping she wouldn’t fall over something. When she got just past the bounds of the graveyard she called out loud “Retreat!” which seemed like a reasonable enough command, and turned and ran for it herself. The other two wisps passed her and lit the ground ahead for her.
She caught up with the others just as they reached the campgrounds. Only then did she look back over her shoulder to see that, as Rosamund had promised, the spirits had not followed. She slowed to a walk, hand at her aching side, and caught up with the others.
Captain Cody was utterly spent. Evidently the spirits had managed to lure him out before he had gotten ready for bed, since he was still in his trousers, bracers and a shirt. But his hair and shirt were soaked with sweat, and his boots were scratched and scuffed.
The other three had reached a fire pit, where they had dropped Cody. There was enough light from the dying fire to see very well by. He was on his hands and knees where Fox and Rosamund had let him go, still panting. “What . . . th’ blazes . . . was those things?” he managed, the words rasping from a throat that sounded raw.
“I warned you,” Rosamund said—evidently not able to resist an I told you so! “I told you this place was haunted, and to keep clear of it.”
“I . . . did!” he protested. “I . . . was gettin’ . . . ready . . . t’bed down. An’ next thing . . . I know . . . I’m . . .” He shook his head, unable to continue.
“Those were Vilis, the restless, angry spirits of young women who have died betrayed by the men they loved,” Rosamund said, looking back, and biting off each word. “They take revenge on any man they can lure into their graveyard by stealing his life-energy as they dance him to death.” She turned a look of disfavor on him. “Men who have also betrayed or left women who loved them are the most susceptible to their spell.”
She left those words hanging in the air. Cody swallowed. “I . . . ain’t never done that . . . that I know about,” he said, weakly.
“Antonia in Naples?” Fox prompted. “Isabella and Elizabetta in Florence? Those three sisters in Vicenza? Flor—”
“Hey!” Cody interrupted. “I didn’ ask for none of that! An’ I never oncet wrote back to ’em, or invited ’em t’ the’ camp or—anythin’! Ast Kellermann! He’ll tell ya!”
Giselle looked askance at Fox. Fox chuckled. “Young ladies who came to every performance, sent presents and notes to the Captain, and threw flowers at him and his horse from the audience.”
“Ah.” Giselle glanced over at Rosamund, who shrugged. “If they have been without a victim for a very long time, I suspect any excuse would do,” she admitted. She offered her hand to Cody; Fox did the same on the other side. Both hauled him to his feet.
“But . . . all right, how in Hades did man-hatin’ ghosts end up in a convent?” Cody asked in bewilderment. “I thought nuns was supposed t’ be all holy an forgivin’!”
“It was a convent of the Sisters of Mary Magdalene,” Rosamund replied. “Let’s go to my vardo. You need food and something to drink, and I can explain better when I am sitting down.”
Once at the vardos, they all sat down next to the nearest firepit. The