Ez the bookworm chimed in in her monotonous drone.
“According to legend, the sad ghost, as it’s called, was an unnamed visitor to the castle—” I thought I’d improve everyone’s mood by reminding them how lucky we were to be staying in a real castle. “Whom the Lord Combchain killed over a game of cards.”
“But why is he sad, though?” I asked.
“Never mind that!” said the newbie. “What about the horned thing licking my toes.”
“Probably a goat,” I said.
“A goat!” the boy’s voice rose.
“There was a bloody goat’s head on the doorstep this morning.”
Tale Told 