by Lauren James
Felix took this in. He’d not really considered it before. Clearly there was something that contained human consciousness, that left the body and became ghosts when they died. For lack of a better word, a soul – a personality, made up of the energy they all craved. But what happened after the ghosts disintegrated? Where did those souls go?
“I don’t really believe in a god,” he said. “But I do wish there was more than disintegration. That sounds so … final. Surely there’s some sort of cycle? Our energy has to go somewhere, right?”
Before Harriet could reply, there was a cry as Rima ended the fight with Kasper by turning into a bear and throwing herself at his chest. He plummeted to the floor, shrieking as she licked his face with a slobbery bear tongue.
“TRUCE!” he screamed. “You’re hilarious, I swear! And I’m – I’m the cool one!”
Rima settled back on her haunches, turning back into a human. “You can have ‘cool’. ‘Cool’ is less obnoxious than ‘charming’. Your ego can handle it.”
Kasper hopped to his feet, brushing off his shoulders and strutting like a peacock.
Felix was about to ask whether Rima was absolutely sure Kasper’s ego could handle it, when Kasper winked at Harriet and said, “Hey, Stoker, it’s Halloween tomorrow, and we’re having a party in Rima’s room. Do you want to come with me? It’s usually pretty fun. If you like pretending to be drunk and celebrating our spirit lives.”
Felix’s whole body seized up in a wince. Devastation was too strong a word. Devastation was something he had no right to feel, not about Kasper. But it hurt. He couldn’t tell whether it was disappointment or embarrassment – that Kasper was doing this in front of him; that Rima and Leah were here to see his reaction; that Felix couldn’t stop himself from caring.
Harriet shrugged. “Sure. It’s not like I have any plans.”
Felix glared at the ground, swallowing a thousand comments before they had a chance to be verbalized. He told himself that he wasn’t jealous, just concerned about Harriet’s attitude. And he was. But still, still, still…
She was dangling something precious from her fingers, when it should be cradled against her chest, nurtured between warm palms. She had Kasper, his Kasper, and Felix suspected it was only because she was bored. That aloof distance had never left her gaze.
Next to Felix, Leah let out a long, hoarse snore that almost sounded real.
“I’m going to go and check my phone for new messages,” Harriet said. Kasper murmured something about helping and followed her out of the room.
“Just in time,” Leah said, when Harriet was gone. She sat up, stretching. “I was getting pins and needles.”
“Do you not like Harriet?” Rima asked Leah, surprised.
“Not particularly.”
Rima sighed. “I don’t think she means to be so abrupt; she’s just shy. It doesn’t seem like she’s had many friends before.”
Felix frowned, shifting Claudia slightly. “There’s something really odd about her, you know. She’s so obsessed with the idea of powers and leaving the building. She’s got it into her head that her power will help her do that.”
“Felix, she just died,” Rima said. “She wants something positive to focus on. It was so exciting to find out what our powers did, remember? Plus, she had an odd reaction to energy when Qi did the rat test. She’s probably still recovering from that.”
Felix frowned. The rat test was the most basic form of energy distribution – if Harriet hadn’t been able to handle that, then she must be volatile, to say the least. How could Rima not see that? She was always far too trusting. She had told him once that before they died, she’d lent someone her coursework so they could double-check an answer, and they had handed it in as their own. She had failed the module. The way she had told Felix this story had made it clear that this was a big, dark, shameful secret for her. Of course, Felix would never have lent anyone his coursework in the first place.
“Harriet’s just struggling to adapt,” Leah agreed, cupping a hand over her mouth to hide a yawn.
“No, it’s something more than that,” he said. “I mentioned my power to her, and she didn’t even seem to understand why going around hypnotizing people wasn’t allowed.”
“Are you sure you’re not overreacting because you’re … you know?” Rima chewed on her lip, looking uncomfortable.
“I’m what?”
Rima looked away. “Because you’re jealous, Felix.”
Felix blinked twice, very quickly, going hot all over. “What?” he said and winced when his words came out strangled. “I’m not jealous! What reason do I have to be jealous?”
Leah sighed. “Drop the act. We’ve all known about your crush for decades. Your entire identity is based around your feelings for another man.”
“I don’t like Captain America that much!” he attempted to joke.
Rima and Leah both pulled unimpressed faces at him, so he stopped even trying. It would probably be rude to disintegrate in the middle of this conversation as an avoidance tactic. “Does everyone know? Does he?”
Rima touched his arm. “Oh, no! I don’t think so. Kasper’s kind of oblivious. And your crush mainly manifests itself as … how should I put this…?”
“Unresolved sexual tension?” Leah suggested.
“Immature squabbling,” Rima said instead.
“Right,” Felix said, feeling dizzy. “Good to know.”
“Anyway, it’s completely understandable that you’d feel anxious about a new girl coming and taking all his attention.”
“Taking all his attention? I’m not an idiot,” he hissed. “Kasper’s straight. I know he’ll never be interested in me, so what would I have to gain from accusing Harriet like this unless it were true? I’m going to keep an eye on her, whatever you say.”
Chapter 7
HARRIET
Kasper followed Harriet up the stairs to the first floor, telling her the plan for their Halloween party date in great detail. He even asked her favourite kind of flower – apparently he had a friend whose power let them grow bouquets, or something.
Harriet answered his questions, trying to work out how to shake him off. She’d only agreed to the date because she thought it would be a good idea to keep him on her side. He might turn out to be useful. But the way he’d lit up when she’d said yes had made her regret it immediately.
Harriet had found herself joining in when they were all messing around. She’d even made a joke that they’d all laughed at, which had been a surprise. She wasn’t used to being funny. During primary school, her class had voted for their star classmate of the week, whose picture was put up on a display board. It was a popularity contest, mostly. Everyone in the class got picked at some point, either on their birthday or because they’d made up a fun game in the playground. Everyone except Harriet.
Making Rima and the others laugh was like finally getting chosen as star classmate. But she had to stop wasting time and distracting herself like that. Having friends wasn’t going to help her.
When Kasper tripped on a step, mid-sentence, and started stumbling forward, Harriet felt something stretch inside her chest. She reached forward and grabbed his arm before he could lose balance. If a ghost fell, it was possible they might just keep falling down through every floor of the building.
“Thanks,” he said, righting himself.
The bubbling feeling inside her chest disappeared. Harriet frowned, trying to work out what it had been.
“Shall we meet in my room?” Kasper asked. “Then we can hang out before the party starts.”
“Sure,” she said, rubbing her sternum distractedly. “Is it OK if I have some alone time until then?”
“Oh!” Kasper said. “Yeah, no worries. You must still be processing everything.” He gestured vaguely at her ghostly form.
“Mmm.”
“See you soon.” He backed off down the hall, grinning at her in a lazy, pleased-with-himself manner.
She gave him a little wave, then
sighed with relief. She’d have to do her best to avoid him until the next day. When she was alive, she hadn’t been invited to many parties after freshers’ week had ended. A Halloween party could be fun, she supposed, though it was slightly annoying that she couldn’t change any of her clothes. She was stuck in the boring khaki outfit she’d died in.
At least she could change her hairstyle, to make it more suitable for a party. Her make-up was fine too – she’d been wearing her most popular YouTube make-up tutorial look when she’d died, ‘Boss Babe Hustle Eyes’n’Lips’. It wasn’t a bad look to have for all eternity.
Finally alone, she went to check her phone on the fifth floor. Her gran had left a series of increasingly frustrated voicemails.
“Harriet, darling, where are you? You know how I worry about you. Call me.”
“Harriet, where are you? It’s very unfair of you to leave me in the dark like this. I’m not well. Please call me back immediately.”
“Harriet, if you don’t come home this evening, I’m afraid we’re going to have a serious discussion about your curfew. This is unacceptable.”
Harriet leant back on her heels, wondering what to do now. The messages had left her squirming with guilt and determination. How had she already wasted so much time?
She had been wracking her brains to think of things that she could trade for another animal spirit. Now it occurred to her, as she stared down at her phone, that all the ghosts seemed to be fascinated by the technology. Felix had practically begged for a chance to test it out. Maybe she could trade time on the Internet for more animal spirits. It was worth a shot.
Harriet explored each floor, searching for the rat-hunting guy she’d spoken to on the stairs earlier. She found him in the third-floor kitchen, with his head stuck inside the fridge.
“I have something to trade now,” she said to his rear end. He jumped, the back of his low-slung jeans slipping down even further. “What if I let you use my phone for a bit?”
“Oh yeah, princess?” he said, extracting himself from the refrigerator. He considered her through narrow eyes for a moment. “What’s the point of that? Who would I call?”
“It goes online. A lot has changed since you died. You can look up whatever kind of stuff you want now.”
“On a phone?” He sounded sceptical. “I can look up anything? Like, X-rated stuff?”
“Uh.” She paused. It wasn’t like she was ever going to use the phone again – the battery would be dead soon. There was no reason not to let him infect it with viruses. The tips of her fingers were tingling at the memory of the rat energy rush. She needed another, whatever it took. “Sure.”
He looked at her more carefully, then. “What did you say your name was?”
She hadn’t. “It’s Harriet Stoker.”
He grinned. “All right, Stoker. Lead the way. I’m Greg.”
She took Greg back up to the fifth floor. A few ghosts were chatting on the stairs, and they looked between Harriet and Greg in surprise.
“Sup,” he said to them.
To Harriet’s surprise, the girls pressed up against the stairs to avoid him, not acknowledging his greeting.
Upstairs, there was a Shell floating over Harriet’s phone. She flapped her hands at it, pushing the boy away. Greg inspected the phone in wonder. “How does it work?”
“It’s voice-activated. I’ll unlock it, then you can just tell it what you want to see. Only … wait until I’ve gone, please.” Harriet hid a grimace. She didn’t even want to imagine what Greg wanted to search for.
“All right,” he said, and held out a hand. “You’ve got a deal.”
Harriet went to shake it, and then pulled back. He’d agreed suspiciously quickly. “What are you giving me for it? I’ll let you use it for fifteen minutes for one rat spirit.”
He frowned down at his outstretched hand, then back at her. “I don’t have any rats at the moment, but I’ll give you a mouse for it.”
“Three mice.”
“It’s worth a mouse and a half at the most.” He waggled his hand. “Come on, Harriet.”
“Two mice,” she said.
He sucked his teeth. “All right. Two mice. Shake on it?”
She paused, eyeing him. What did she really know about Greg? Those girls on the stairs hadn’t even wanted to make eye contact with him. He could be trying to swindle her somehow. “I want the mice before you use the phone.”
“Sure. Whatever you want.” He pushed his hand towards her again. She finally took it.
When her skin touched his, all her doubts left her mind. He was on her side – of course he was. She couldn’t remember why she’d ever doubted him.
“A mouse and a half, then,” he said, grip tight around her palm.
“Sure,” she said faintly.
He released her hand. Harriet swayed slightly, blinking.
Greg grinned at her, a lazy smile tugging up the side of his mouth. “Perfect,” he said, and pulled a mouse spirit out of his shirt pocket. He breathed in deeply, his tongue curling around the tail, then passed the other half over to Harriet. She closed her eyes and inhaled, letting the energy roll over her. It was amazing how quickly it worked to make her feel more alive.
It wasn’t anywhere near enough to manifest her power, but the buzz was still worth the trade. While Greg spent his fifteen minutes using her phone, Harriet found herself gazing deep inside a cobweb threaded across the ceiling.
“Phew!” Greg stretched his arms up behind his head. “I haven’t had such a good time in ages.”
Harriet was surprised – the fifteen minutes had gone by in a dreamy energy high, as she tried to spot the spider among the petrified insect cocoons. It was like the energy had done something to her brain, sending her thoughts slow and stretchy like toffee.
Harriet smiled affectionately at him. He was a funny one. Good old Greg. Why had she ever thought he was strange? He felt like a long-lost brother now, familiar and comforting. She found herself telling him the truth: “I was trying to manifest my power with the mouse, but it didn’t work.”
“Oh, yeah?” said Greg, eyebrow raised. “I might know some people who can help with that. You’d need to have something to trade, though. They run a black market where people swap … particular favours and information.”
That sounded perfect. Anyone Greg recommended would be able to help her, she was sure of it. Harriet beamed at him.
“Can you take me to see them?”
“Stoker, it would be my pleasure.”
Oh dear. I was hoping it would be a while before you had to meet the Tricksters. They’re tangled up in everything – past, present and future – so you’re going to have to face them eventually. It might as well be now.
You see, ghosts have lived here for a long time. Not just since the halls of residence was built in the seventies, but long before that, in a series of cottages and barns and huts and camps throughout history. In all that time, people have died, like they do.
Gather enough people together, whether they’re dead or alive, and they’ll make some ground rules, put laws in place and develop some kind of society. There are lawmakers and lawbreakers here, just like anywhere else. Sometimes the lawbreakers are the more interesting ones.
Look at Greg – his power makes anyone trust him, utterly, after skin-to-skin contact. That’s allowed him to get away with a lot.
It’s a power that makes him valuable to people like the Tricksters. He’s an enforcer; an inside man. Harriet hasn’t been here long enough to know who she should avoid and who she should trust.
If she’d asked Rima before talking to Greg, she would have been warned to never, ever, shake Greg’s hand. But it’s too late for that now. She’s already made a big mistake – one that it’s going to be hard to recover from. But her next mistake will be even worse.
HARRIET
Greg led her down to the basement floor, through a doorway marked “Recreation Room”. As he stepped through the wooden door, the entrance lit up in bright
white light, and then dropped back into darkness. Harriet was worried it would burn her, but she trusted Greg, so she stepped through. The glowing light was painless.
The floor of the basement room was covered in a black, gunky damp from flooding, and it was full of junk – broken tables and chairs, old suitcases and crates. Ghosts were crammed into every centimetre of space.
“What was that light thing on the door?” she asked Greg.
“It’s the lock,” he said, scanning the room. “People get sent to the basement for breaking the rules. That girl there, in the orange nightgown, used to go around starting fires a couple of years ago. The boy with the Mohican stalked one of the third-floorers before the millennium. Once you’re sent here, you don’t get out again. Qi Pang’s lightning fries any of them who try to cross the doorway.”
He gestured back towards the bright light that had flashed when they’d entered. Harriet shivered, remembering the feeling of Qi’s lightning wrapped around her arm. She could imagine what would happen if one of the imprisoned ghosts tried to pass through it.
Greg walked over to where a group of ghosts were crowded around a pool table. One of the balls on it was skittering around, rolling over to hit a second one and sending it flying. The crowd let out a roaring cheer, and one of the ghosts patted a short, grinning girl on the arm.
From the other side of the table, a boy stared at another ball. It tilted to the side, then back. The guy frowned, staring unblinkingly at it until it started rolling.
The ball missed the pocket, and the crowd let out a long groan as the girl did a little happy dance.
They must be using telekinesis. Harriet was impressed. Was there no end to the potential powers ghosts could have?
“Are they the ones who run the black market?” Harriet asked Greg.
He shook his head. Suddenly mute, he pointed to two men she hadn’t noticed, standing alone on the far side of the room. They weren’t paying any attention to the pool game, but just watched everyone, completely motionless. The sight of them ignited some long-lost instinct inside Harriet’s spine that told her to run.