IARMDH Chapter 36

 

 

 

Knock knock—

 

The knocking came again.

 

Knock knock—

 

Who could it be? As Judith turned her head, the horse neighed anxiously and began scratching at the ground with its front hoof.

 

Though it couldn’t speak, it somehow felt like the horse was warning her not to open the door.

 

Judith stood frozen, unable to decide what to do. Then—

 

Knock knock—

 

“Miss Harrington, are you in there?”

 

It was Erne’s voice.

 

Knock knock—

 

The knocking persisted. Judith swallowed hard. It was definitely Erne’s voice, but… it couldn’t be Erne. No, it shouldn’t be.

 

He had been burning with fever and barely able to sit up. There was no way he could’ve suddenly recovered and come to her room like this.

 

Then… what was that?

 

Judith felt rooted to the floor, like her feet had been nailed down.

 

Knock knock—

 

“Ma’am, are you inside?”

 

Sir Henry? Judith nearly screamed at the sudden shift in voice. Something—something was mimicking voices.

 

“Miss Harrington, are you in there?”

 

Now it was Lady Brix’? Judith clamped both hands over her mouth. That thing outside kept asking if she was inside.

 

Some instinct told her she absolutely must not let it know she was here.

 

“Miss Harrington, are you in there?”

 

Knock knock—

 

The knocking grew louder and louder. Judith didn’t dare make a sound.

 

Knock-knock-knock—

 

The knocking became rougher. What had sounded like the Marchioness of Fernie just moments ago now sounded like…

 

Cliff.

 

“Countess, are you in there?”

 

Thud, thud—

 

It wasn’t knocking anymore—it was pounding with fists. Each time the door shook, Judith pressed her hands tighter against her mouth.

 

Countess, are you in there— Thud thud. Miss Harrington, are you there? Thud thud thud. I know you’re inside— Bang! Bang bang bang—You’re in there—

 

Bang bang bang bang bang! Bang bang bang bang bang! YOU’RE IN THERE—! BANG BANG BANG—

 

The door shook violently, like it would be torn off its hinges at any moment.

 

With a gasp, Judith reached instinctively for a pot.

 

Whether it could actually help her fend off what was outside, she didn’t know.

 

But she needed to grab something. Anything.

 

“….….”

 

The moment her fingers brushed the pot handle—

 

The frenzied pounding and screaming stopped.

 

Instantly.

 

…Had it gone?

 

Still tense, Judith’s legs gave out, and she sank to the floor. Cold sweat trickled down her back.

 

She let out the breath she had been holding—but then bit her lip, afraid the sound might make it come back.

 

How much time passed, she didn’t know.

 

Time had blurred. She sat still, paralyzed, until—

 

Neeeeigh—

 

A long, drawn-out whinny came from outside.

 

The horse’s cry brought Judith back to her senses. The terror that had swelled to her throat began to ebb away.

 

She turned her head toward the window. Dawn was breaking.

 

The horse had been circling the same spot, hooves clopping—until Judith approached the window. Then it stopped moving.

 

Had it been trying to warn her?

 

Judith gathered her courage and opened the window. A gust of cold wind swept in, and only then did she remember Erne.

 

Was Erne alright? She felt slightly relieved thinking that, since he was bedridden, he probably wouldn’t have been able to open the window himself.

 

Clutching her still-trembling chest, Judith slowly opened the door. The hallway was filled with silence.

 

Keeping her guard up, she took one step forward.

 

Nothing happened.

 

Only then did Judith step fully outside. Something crunched beneath her feet. She slowly looked down.

 

“…Dust?”

 

There was nothing but dust there.

 

***

 

Erne’s condition had worsened since the day before. Henry, who came to check on him, couldn’t hide the turmoil on his face.

 

“At this rate, I fear Erne may not make it either.”

 

To come back to life as an undecaying corpse, only to be killed by another undecaying corpse—Henry muttered tearfully about how twisted this fate was.

 

By then, Judith was growing increasingly anxious as well.

 

“Sir Henry… about the others—did they have any symptoms besides fever?”

 

“Other symptoms…”

 

Henry thought for a moment before speaking.

 

“I heard one person experienced auditory hallucinations.”

 

“Hallucinations?”

 

“Yes. They said their deceased mother knocked on their door.”

 

Their dead mother knocking on the door?

 

Judith swallowed dryly.

 

“They opened the door, but no one was there. And then that very night, the symptoms began.”

 

Suddenly, Judith remembered what Erne had asked her before his low-grade fever started.

 

 

“Did you come to my room last night?”

 

 

Could it be that he had opened the door?

 

Judith sighed and pressed her forehead. If Erne hadn’t already been sick, she likely would’ve opened the door without hesitation upon hearing his voice.

 

“Is something wrong, my lady?”

 

“Well, it’s just…”

 

Her thoughts weren’t yet fully sorted. Judith moved her lips silently, then took a deep breath.

 

“I’ve been thinking, Sir Henry. I suspect the dust might be the key.”

 

Hearing a familiar person’s voice—whether a true hallucination or something else—let’s just assume it’s a hallucination for now. Either way, if someone is tricked into opening the door because of it, the symptoms begin.

 

But if they don’t open the door, the symptoms don’t seem to appear.

 

Judith had heard the hallucination yesterday, but today, she was perfectly fine. Not even a trace of fever.

 

If the hallucination marks the beginning of the illness, then Judith figured there must be a common factor among those who heard it.

 

Suddenly, the image of the dust that had piled up in front of the door the day before flashed through her mind.

 

Dust. Yes, the dust.

 

“Pardon? Dust?”

 

“Yes. The day Erne returned from seeing the mummy, he brought back a lot of dust. When he opened the coffin, a thick cloud of dust rose up.”

 

Erne had shaken out his clothes and body twice at the auction house, but he still came back covered in dust.

 

The same must have happened to Viscount Hustleton and Baron Beto.

 

Surely their clothes and hair were also laced with dust.

 

“Since they’re both men, their personal attendants would’ve helped them change clothes. But the laundry…”

 

“The laundry maids handle that.”

 

So it was the laundry maid at Baron Beto’s estate who had died. But a question still lingered.

 

Why did Erne show symptoms later than the others? And why did Judith, who had also inhaled the dust, experience auditory hallucinations even later?

 

“In any case, please excuse me for a moment, Sir Henry.”

 

Her thoughts were tangled in questions, and although she wanted to talk more with Henry, Judith had somewhere she needed to be that day.

 

“Don’t worry and take care of your errands, madam.”

 

Judith prepared to leave, gathering candles to deliver. Even though Erne was sick, she still had to work.

 

Smith certainly wasn’t going to lower the interest just because Erne was ill. If anything, his medication was costing them more—she couldn’t afford to rest.

 

Since the Geumjamgo had gone to Leon, their orders had dropped to a quarter of what they used to be. Still, at least she wasn’t without any income.

 

Her accomplices—Lady Lila Brix and the Marchioness of Fernie—continued to buy candles from her regularly.

 

“Would you mind picking up some fever medicine while you’re out? Looks like the bottle’s empty.”

 

“Of course.”

 

The fever reducer hadn’t been very effective lately, but they couldn’t exactly stop giving it to him either.

 

Fever medicine isn’t the solution.

 

They needed another way.

 

The mummy, the dust, something mimicking voices—this was clearly beyond the realm of medicine.

 

Then where could they find answers about this phenomenon?

 

While Judith pondered this, she arrived at the Brix estate. She planned to quickly drop off the candles and leave, but Lila wouldn’t let her go so easily.

 

***

 

“Miss Harrington, you’re coming with me somewhere.”

 

“Pardon? Where to?”

 

Dressed and ready to go out, Lila gracefully but firmly led Judith toward the carriage.

 

“To the medium who sold me that ring. I found out where they are. After what I went through because of that cursed item, I can’t just let it slide, can I?”

 

Her brows furrowed slightly, the memory still vexing her.

 

“Why am I going with you, Lady?”

 

“Because you’re my accomplice, Miss Harrington. And you’re the one who confirmed what the ring actually was with another medium. So come help me confront this one.”

 

“I’d love to, but today I—”

 

“I’ll pay you a day’s wage.”

 

“…Let’s go. I’ll make sure you get your refund.”

 

Judith opened the carriage door herself and escorted Lila inside.

 

It wasn’t that she was obsessed with money even when Erne was on the brink of death. But she needed that pay to afford better fever medicine—or at least some meat to make nourishing soup.

 

More importantly, Ceres is a medium who deals in curses. He might know something about the mummy.

 

Even if the items he sold had flaws, he probably still knew more about these things than ordinary people.

 

Since I’m going anyway, I might as well ask.

 

But then a question occurred to her.

 

Lila wasn’t hurting for money—so why was she going through all this effort for a refund?

 

“Because it’s infuriating. How dare someone scam me?”

 

Ah, so it was a matter of pride.

 

***

 

“You con artist.”

 

As soon as they arrived at the tent of the medium named Ceres, Lila snapped sharply.

 

“What? Excuse me? What are you talking about all of a sudden? Please, have a seat. Let’s talk calmly.”

 

Ceres, who looked to be in his early forties, seemed used to this kind of scene. He expertly calmed Lila down and led her to a seat.

 

Was he trying to win her over with friendliness?

 

A clever tactic, but unfortunately, it didn’t work on Judith. She gave Lila a look that said, Leave this to me, and calmly began to question the man about the ring.

 

“That item you sold nearly put the baroness in a terrible situation.”

 

“Oh dear, is that so? I am terribly sorry. I’ll do whatever the lady wishes.”

 

Since Ceres was being overly accommodating and apologetic, Judith found it difficult to keep pressing him harshly.

 

“But I do hope the lady will also try to understand my situation.”

 

“Your situation?”

 

Ceres explained his side of things.

 

He was merely a retailer who procured amulets already imbued with spells. Refunds and after-sales issues were handled by the creators. Therefore, any complaint should be taken up with the maker.

 

“You’re kidding. You want us to find the person who made it?”

 

“Of course not. If the young lady wishes, the spirit medium of the crimson thread will come to visit.”

 

Wait, who?