Free Buried Above Ground by Leah Cypess Page A

“I will not be requiring assistance.”
    Annette didn’t move. “But—”
    â€œI can manage,” Emilie snapped. She didn’t dare draw attention to her foot by looking down at it. Instead, she concentrated on holding herself firm and solid. It took most ghosts time to learn to control their transitions from vaporous to firm, but Emilie didn’t have time. “I used to be a maid myself, remember? Leave me.”
    Annette muttered something under her breath, too indistinct to make out, and left.
    Emilie stiffened instinctively, then shook her head. Annette would be someone else’s problem soon enough. Emilie couldn’t worry about her maid. She had just about an hour to get used to being dead.

Chapter Two
    She was late to the banquet, and her hair was wholly inadequate . . . but when Emilie walked into the glittering and crowded banquet hall, nobody would have guessed that she was a ghost. Her body was solid to sight and touch, her feet stepped firmly on the marble floor, and she even fancied she could feel her heart racing.
    Time to find her murderer.
    Her whole body tensed as the compulsion for vengeance rose up in her, and she looked fiercely around the crowd. Soon, soon , she would find the person who had strangled her, and then she would have her revenge.
    With time, she had been told, the urge for vengeance would grow into an all-consuming ache, a terrible hunger that she would do anything to satiate. And if she couldn’t, eventually it would become an ever-present emptiness within her, robbing her of true joy or contentment for the rest of her existence. Which, as far as anyone knew, would last forever.
    The court was filled with ghosts whose chance for vengeance and peace had passed them by. They made the best of the half-existence left to them, participating in the life of the court, in festivities and races and hunts. Death was a sort of nobility, and many commoners who had been murdered now attended balls they would never have been invited to while alive. One of those was Emilie’s best friend. Lizette had helped Emilie understand the ways of the court, had tutored her in how best to attract a nobleman’s attention.
    Lizette would be quite disappointed when she heard that Emilie had wasted all that effort by getting herself killed.
    Emilie bit her lip, then lifted her head and forced a smile. She had no intention of becoming like Lizette, who had been robbed of the chance for vengeance when her murderess, in a fit of spite, hanged herself. Emilie would find her murderer and kill him, and her spirit would rest.
    In the meantime, she might as well enjoy her last party.
    A page passed by with a tray of flaky pastries and paused long enough for Emilie to pluck one and pop it into her mouth. Ghosts didn’t have to eat, but they could, and death didn’t appear to have affected her taste buds at all. The pastry was filled with well-spiced meat, and she closed her eyes as she chewed and swallowed. By the time she opened them, the page was halfway across the room. She considered going after him and collecting a few more, but the itch for vengeance overcame the impulse. She had more important things to do. Besides, the food at the main meal would be just as delicious.
    Emilie still remembered the first time she had tasted food this good. Lord Ardun had brought it to her so they could enjoy a private meal, back when he had been pursuing her. It had also been the first time in all her life that she went to bed with her stomach completely full. It had felt so odd, it kept her from sleep for hours—that, and the fear that she would give in to the lord too early or too late and become nothing more than a lady’s maid again, snatching bites of dull, stale servants’ food between her duties.
    The pursuit had ended that night, though she had been wise enough not to let Lord Ardun know that he had caught her. Not right away.
    Now she searched the crowd until