Winter Haven IC

"Page, I'm not too happy with the first part!" Flux hissed as the ponies drew closer together. "But we'll deal with that later... Celestia willing."

He swallowed hard, and shone his light further down the hall. "Well ponies, either that was a horribly timed coincidence, or there's more going on in here than we though originally." He glanced out the window behind him at the blizzard raging away.

"We need to ask ourselves, are we better off out in the blizzard, or in here with a ghost?"

Years in Canterlot schools had instilled in Digitalis a reflex to stand at attention when faced with sudden loud noises. Once he had relaxed and no further threats presented themselves, he allowed himself a laugh. "Ha ha ha ha! Oh Mr. Turner, I assure you, I didn't hear a word." he said, walking back to his trunk, "So they couldn't possibly have heard it from me...", he muttered. "Count my vote for 'ghosts', Mr. Flux. There are prayers and spells and potions to ward off the unquiet dead, but few that will save five from death by freezing, ant take it from me, that's a terrible way to go." He opened the trunk and shuffled through its contents. "Actually, I think I have an illustrated reference book in here somewhere... No matter. So what should be our course of action? Do we light up the foyer and make ourselves comfortable? Do we explore the entire house, lighting every lamp and fireplace?" He chuckled. "Perform a preemptive exorcism?"

He approached a wall containing what he assumed to be an idyllic painting of the house at sunset. "If that painting and my knowledge of the customs of the time are correct... and this is in fact the main entrance, here, the house is facing East, meaning there's a small sitting room near the back for friends and family to watch the sunset. That might be the smallest room with its own fireplace, making it the easiest to hold all of us and heat quickly. Now, depending on exactly how rich Miner was and when exactly the place was lived in, there may possibly be a furnace in the basement, but if the rumors are true and the place is booby-trapped, I wouldn't want to be the one to travail his way downstairs, banking on a hundred year-old furnace being both present and functional."

Coin considered the plan. A pity cousin Zappy isn't here. He'd be fascinated to be in here. "I suppose that'll have to do. We should be very cautious, of course. We could find anything and anyone in here. While we may be a ragtag band of misfits, if we are careful, work together, and stay calm, we will handle anything that happens just fine."

Flux nodded. "You're definitely right about the smaller room and the kitchen, but wouldn't the sunset room have big windows? That's gonna let out a lot of the heat we create." He stepped further into the dark foyer, his horn lighting the way. "I suggest we try for the study or something of that kind." He turned back to the others. "If nothing else, It'll be full of furniture we can burn."

"Hmm... I suppose you're right." Digitalis said. "The library would probably be more closed off, depending on how scholarly the owners were, but if it's anything like I've exper-" The doctor coughed. "Ahem, I- I'm sure the library will be fine."

Clay crept silently through the corridors of the upper level, keeping near the walls, where the boards would be strongest and least likely to creak. The halls were still dark, except near the outer walls of the house, where indistinct light fought its way in through thick snow and grimy panes. The corridors contained small tables and display cases along the walls, each crowded with knickknacks from long ago - old china pieces, paraphernalia from some obscure war, grainy black-and-white photos of ponies that looked not-quite-right. There were heavy silver candlestick holders bearing thick, drip-covered candles. One case had several shelves of glass eyes. Clay frowned. That...that is not something a normal pony collects.

There were linear marks in the carpet to one side, as though the case had been moved repeatedly. No...it can't possibly... Feeling foolish, Clay gave the case a little push - and it rolled noiselessly, as if on oiled bearings, over the marks in the carpet. Behind it was a hole in the wall, big enough for a pony to pass through. Well, he thought as he stepped through, I guess it can be. He pulled the case back into place behind him and crept along inside the walls.