Argento Silvestre was a strange man. He had a humped back and a bad limp, supposedly from a fall a long time ago. To Toivo, however, he reeked of badly-done magic. As a mage, one could detect other users instinctively by the aura they cast. He'd been told that his own aura was cold and clung closely to him, only to spike out viciously at times.

Argento Silvestre's aura was bright red of shallow flesh wounds and smelled of salt pork. It cast shadows over his face, which was an odd thing for a magical aura to do. Toivo concentrated on the man's actual face, and the aura faded.

"I've had many try," the old man was saying. Toivo noticed his missing teeth.

If you're as rich as this man is supposed to be, you should at least have a good dental plan, he found himself thinking.

"None have yet been able to dispell the ghosts and spirits from this house."

"What kind of spirits are they?" Tycho asked, still lingering invisibly behind his brother. Their voices were similar enough, Argento Silvestre had mistaken him for Toivo.

"A most terrible kind," the old man said. "Every night at eleven twenty-eight, the scene begins. The whole of the upstairs hallway is filled with an unearthly mist, and a group of four women wander the halls with chains and knives. Then, at twenty of midnight, they enter the servant's quarters and stab to death a man and beat this woman with him to death with chains. Night after night, and the rattling of chains and the screams of the man and woman - it is too much."

"Have they always done this?" Toivo asked, shocked by the single-minded brutality of some spirits.

"It used to be the women just walked the halls, every now and again. Only this year have they begun their horrible acts of brutality. Many of my servents refuse to return, and those long-loyal are stricken with fear every time they retire for the evening. I have set them up in the downstairs until the matter is through."

"All right," Toivo said with a decisive nod. "Show us where."

"Us?" the old man asked.

Toivo felt the color drain from his face.

"Idiot," Tycho hissed into his ear.

"Me, sir."

"You said 'us'."

"It's a local dialect I grew up with," Toivo explained, trying to seem casual about it. "i slip into it from time to time."

The man eyed him oddly, but he led him upstairs anyway. Tycho was gone by now, and Toivo was alone with the man. He could tell. He was warmer.

"This is the hallway," the man explained. It was just that. A hallway. It was wide enough for four people, easily, and there were many rooms and smaller halls branching off it. It was dressed in some garrish gilt wallpapering.

"And in here," Argento Silvestre continued, "is the servent's quarters."

Inside were several beds, separated by several dividers and cabinets. Obviously, at least three people shared this room at any given time.

"You'll be staying here, until you give up or the thing is finished," the man said. "Your meals will be delivered. You have, at most, a month. Any longer, and I will turn you out for fooling me and robbing me of food."

Toivo blinked. Habitually rich people were weird. "Um. Okay, sure," he agreed.

"Good. Do you have all you'll need?" the man asked.

"I will require fresh air after a while," Toivo said through a forced smile.

"The servents shall instruct you how, then."

"Very good," he said, eying the room distractedly. "Then there is nothing else."

Argento Silvestre left, and Toivo was alone in the room. It was so commonplace, Toivo doubted it was actually haunted. His first order of business, he decided, was to search the room for any secret enterances or projection equipment. All the drawers were empty, all the dividers and beds and walls solid. The floor provided no secret hiding places or entryways.

After a spell, he sat back on the bed and pressed his palms to his eyes. "This is soooo stupid," he found himself saying.

"Get your chillbumps yet?" Tycho asked, perching on the bed next to him.

"No. You?"

"Maybe in a bit."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're getting dinner, and then I suggest you sleep until eleven."

"This is so stupid."

"But think of the money you can make."

"And the fame and glory achieved by solving hauntings?" Toivo asked, mocking the very idea.

"Yes. Exactly." Tycho looked smug.

"I'd rather not."

Toivo woke up to bitter coldness. He swatted about for the blanket he'd had on him, but it wasn't there. He growled, and tried to huddle up, only to be dumped onto the bitter cold floor.

"Wake up," Tycho told him.

"Gnaaaaaar," Toivo replied in a surly manner.

"You'll miss all the excitement, and when I tell you about it afterwards, you'll be sooo angry." He was a bit too cheerful.

"Why is it so cold all the time when you're around?" Toivo demanded, pulling the blanket around his shoulders, since he found it on the floor.

"Yeah, if we spirits want to manifest like we do, we have to pull energy from somewhere. I could pull it from you, make you tired all the time and stuff, but I'd rather pull it from the surrounding air."

"You .... that bites so hard," Toivo snarled with slitted eyes. He glared at his brother, and then suddenly at the door. "So what's the ETA for this happening thing?" he asked.

"About twenty minutes."

"That's fifteen more minutes I could have slept, I'll have you know. I've been walking ever since those jerks robbed me."

"Get over it. You'll be sleeping most of the days anymore anyway."

"Shove off." Toivo got to his feet and pulled at a tangle in his bangs.

"Ewww. Drool booger."

Toivo threw a pillow at his brother, but it passed right through him.

"That worked well."

"It's the thought that counts," Toivo snarled.

"The thought that the pillow'd just pass through me, regardless?"

"The thought that I'd like to hit you with a pillow."

"Oh, that thought."

"You were never this obnoxious when you were alive."

"That's because I usually went away for a bit."

"Why don't you go away for a bit?"

"What, and miss all the fun?"

"If you weren't dead already, I'd kill you."

"Tough luck, chief."

Toivo ran his thumb against his ourobos ring, turning it slightly. Tycho watched him with a smug grin.

"What?" he asked. "Are you nervous?"

"Why can't he just get it exorcised?" Toivo sighed. "It'd be easier."

Tycho spaced out a little. "I don't think everything's really right for an exorcism around here, you know what I mean."

"Besides the old man is creepy as all git?"

"Because the old man is creepy as all git."

"Really?"

"Shh..." Tycho said, putting a noncorporeal hand over his brother's mouth.

"Oh yes, very effective," Toivo said dryly through it.

"It's the thought that counts," Tycho teased.

"You are so horrendously impossible."

"I do my best."

Then, there was a strange noise. "The hell was that?" Toivo demanded, jumping off the bed and opening the door to the hall. Outside, there was a thick mist surging through the hallway that went up to Toivo's knees.

"Correction," he said, as he swore he saw something that looked like a hand swipe at the air from the mist. "What is that?"