‘Any luck?’ called Romelia from the bottom of the spiral staircase.
‘Naturally,’ came the answer from a disembodied voice. ‘The gargoyles have consented to join our noble cause. And I’ve sent out carrier bats to our fanged friends.’
With a smug smile on its semi-transparent face, the ghost of Lord Honeymint floated down through the stone steps.
‘And you?’ he asked.
‘I’ve been around the castle grounds. The skeletons and zombies said they would enjoy the stroll,’ answered Romelia. ‘Although Arnold is still looking for his arm. He lost it in a bet and now Ernest won’t tell him where he hid it. The squid and the swamp creature are looking forward to the fun, they’ve assured me.’
‘Good, good,’ beamed Honeymint. ‘Tomorrow, I’ll visit a few late friends. I might seize the opportunity to pop by Wolfgang and the trolls in the forest.’

The ghost nodded, thinking of all the old comrades they were gathering together, as an idea struck him.
‘Do you imagine our Egyptian acquaintances use e-mail?’
Romelia thought for a moment. ‘Couldn’t say, Your Lordship.’
‘No matter, no matter. I’ll ask Igor to look into it. And will you be… what’s the word… texting Ancilla and Egalina?’ asked the ghost.
‘Text them? Whatever for?’ The youthful-looking witch arched an eyebrow while taking her phone from her handbag. ‘I’ll app them. Much cheaper.’
‘Already out of the texting era, are we? That one sure came and went fast.’
The ghost hovered over Romelia’s shoulder.
‘Still looks like texting to me.’
Nimbly typing a message on the touchscreen of her phone, Romelia said: ‘It’s very similar. But you’re not confined to a certain number of characters and you don’t pay per message you send. It’s more like chatting over the internet, really.’
Lord Honeymint shrugged.
‘Modern man seems to be firmly stuck in the telegraphic mindset. He merely keeps changing the machinery involved in the process every so often.’

It was Romelia’s turn to shrug. She replaced the phone in her handbag.
‘You realise Ancilla and Egalina will be out tonight. They probably won’t reply before tomorrow afternoon.’
‘I see,’ said Lord Honeymint stiffly. ‘I don’t doubt I can expect a bit more enthusiasm from your good self, can’t I?’
Romelia cocked her head to one side. ‘Milord?’
‘You know what I mean. You witches have it easy. You’ve found a new place for yourself in today’s society. All in all, I can see why this little scheme of mine doesn’t interest you greatly.’
Romelia took a step back.
‘To be honest, I don’t see the point.’
Honeymint flinched, but Romelia continued.
‘What could we possibly hope to achieve? It is as you said. There are so many perils in today’s world, that our harmless scaring techniques have gone the way of texting. Some will still appreciate the machinery involved, so to speak, but most have moved on.’
The ghost was shaking its head irritably.
‘On the contrary, my dear. You have not chosen a fitting metaphor at all. The masses will soon realise their lives are the poorer for lacking our services. You’ll see…’