by Elle Adams
“Which one has the blog, then?” I studied the teenagers. They wore their uniforms from the academy, albeit with embellishments. Most had their skirts hiked up above their knees and were perusing the menu of cocktails they definitely weren’t old enough to drink. I followed Carey’s gaze to a girl with blond hair who would have been pretty if her face hadn’t been plastered with enough fake tan to turn her complexion orange.
That’s Cris, is it?
The girls continued looking at the menu without ordering anything, but I didn’t miss how they kept glancing in our direction and giggling noticeably. Their whispers seemed to be directed at me as much as at Carey, too. All right, then. If they wanted to issue a challenge, I’d be more than happy to meet them on the battlefield. Scythe or no scythe.
I walked over to their table, ignoring Carey’s look of alarm, and halted beside them.
“Can I help you?” I asked. “Are you going to order anything?”
“You’re Carey’s Reaper friend,” said a dark-haired girl sitting next to the blond girl Carey had pointed out. Like Cris, she wore a thick layer of fake tan and another layer of makeup on top of that. If anything, it made her look younger rather than older.
“I’m Maura,” I said. “Want me to get you a drink?”
“Sure. I’ll have a marshberry whisky,” said Cris. “Three of them.”
“We don’t sell alcoholic drinks to minors.”
“I’m eighteen,” she insisted.
“Nice try, but I’ll have to see some ID,” I said. She looked the same age as the others, fifteen or sixteen. “And if you are eighteen, you aren’t allowed to share those drinks with the others if they’re underage.”
She muttered something uncomplimentary under her breath, which I dutifully ignored. I definitely did not miss being a teenager. At least as an adult, I had some clout here, though it didn’t escape my attention that they all had their wands at the ready, and teenage witches could do some serious damage if they wanted to. Besides, a magical duel in the middle of the restaurant wouldn’t improve the situation for any of us.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out an obviously fake ID. I rolled my eyes at the photo on it. “That isn’t you. Older sibling, is it? Or an illusion spell?”
Her face reddened under her fake tan. “It’s me.”
“Uh-huh.” She didn’t frighten me, though I was curious as to why she’d decided to branch out into ghost hunting, aside from the lure of mocking Carey. She didn’t look the type to trek around crumbling old houses on the weekends. “If I were to use a verification spell on this, it’d work, right?”
She took back the ID. “Thought you were a Reaper, not a witch.”
“I’m both,” I told her. “Pick something else. Go on.”
I ignored their mutters, having heard far worse abuse during my few short-lived customer-service jobs. Their bark was worse than their bite. Their assertiveness thinly masked a deep-seated insecurity that was awfully familiar to me, but it irked me beyond belief that they’d chipped away at Carey’s self-esteem in their desperate pursuit of gratification.
Allie walked into view, eyeing the group of teenagers. “Everything all right in here?”
“Just perfect,” I said without turning around. “Have you picked something else to order?”
“No,” said Cris. “We’re leaving.”
All of them rose to their feet and left in a pack, as though they thought lightning would strike them down if they walked more than a metre apart. I watched them retreat, half prepared for them to turn around and fire a spell at me or something, but they walked out of the restaurant without looking back.
Shaking my head, I returned to Carey’s table.
“Is that Cris seriously practising amateur ghost hunting?” I said to Carey. “I can’t picture her wandering through an old house, not if she spent as long on her makeup as I think she did.”
She gave a shrug. “I don’t know what prompted her to start her blog, but she’s got enough followers that she’s taking it seriously enough to keep talking about it all the time.”
“Uh-huh.” I shook my head. “She’s not that impressive. I bet she’s never been threatened by a terrifying poltergeist or a deranged killer the way you have.”
Carey’s morose expression didn’t lift. “If she takes all the attention away from me, my blog will end up with nobody in town reading it.”
“You don’t need your classmates to subscribe,” I reminded her. “It’s more impressive that you have readers who’ve never met you following your blog and waiting for updates. I bet that Cris doesn’t have anyone reading her blog she doesn’t already know.”
Before Carey could reply, a loud bang came from outside, followed by a series of sparks flying out from somewhere to the side of the door.
“What are they doing out there?” I turned away from the table and headed for the door. Pushing it open, I spotted a couple of uniformed figures running around the corner. Didn’t take a genius to know they were up to no good.
“Hey!” I said. “What are you doing?”
The group of schoolgirls halted as one, and Cris rotated on her heel to glare at me.
“Nothing,” she said.
Right. “I won’t take your word for it on that. If you were using magic to cause damage to the property, I’ll have to call the police.”
Allie walked out of the inn behind me and approached their group. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” Cris said, but with less force than before.
“I saw a flash of light from over there,” I supplied, indicating their general direction. “What spell were you casting?”
“I didn’t cast a spell.” Her tone sounded belligerent. “We’re not doing anything wrong.”
“I’ll let you off this once,” Allie said, “but I’d advise you to go home before you get yourselves into trouble. Go on, all of you.”
She walked back towards the restaurant, while I followed and said in an undertone, “I’ve got it. I’ll make sure they leave.”
As she ducked back inside, Carey exited the restaurant behind me, only to halt on the spot when Cris levelled an accusing stare at her.
“You didn’t have to set your mother on us,” Cris said.
“I didn’t,” Carey mumbled. “She owns the restaurant. What were you doing out here?”
“Nothing.” She pulled out her wand. “Might change my mind if you keep staring at us, though.”
“Hey.” I stepped in. “You’re supposed to be leaving. Unless you want to admit what you were doing, because I’m trying to think of a good reason for you to skulk around here casting spells, and there isn’t one.”
“We were looking for a ghost,” Cris’s blond friend blurted.
Well, well.
“Ghost hunting,” I said to her. “You can see them, then?”
“What’s it to you?” said Cris.
“She’s a Reaper, remember?” Her friend eyed me with interest. “You see ghosts.”
“I do,” I said. “I talk to them, too. Which ghost were you looking for?”
“Ann,” hissed Cris. “Quiet.”
“You thought there was a ghost here at the inn?” I asked Ann, ignoring Cris.
“Not at the inn,” Ann insisted, earning another furious glare from her friend. “Over there by the river.”
I followed her gaze down the slope of the riverbank, where it curved around a corner behind the inn. “Tell me about this ghost, then. I’m intrigued.”
“Are you going to Reap it?” said Ann. “Where’s your scythe?”
“In my room.” No need to let on that I didn’t have one. If they thought I was hiding a scary weapon in my room, they might be more inclined to stop making trouble for Carey. “Also, I’m not an active Reaper. I don’t use my skills against the town’s residents, not unless the ghost poses a threat to living people or otherwise needs to be banished for everyone’s safety. Most of them don’t fit that category. Which ghost were you looking for
?”
“We won’t tell you.” Cris lifted her chin and then glared at her friend as though daring her to speak a word.
“Uh-huh,” I said. “Any particular reason?”
Cris’s gaze went to Carey. “Because she’ll copy our idea, obviously. We got here first.”
“We live here,” I pointed out. “Just saying. If this ghost you’re looking for turns out to be a troublemaker, I’ll have to deal with it one way or another.”
The dark-haired girl fidgeted. I levelled a stare at her, and she blushed. “There used to be an old shack over there by the river. They say two kids from our school died there in the floods. Eric and someone… Lara.”
Oh? “Where’d you hear about them, then?”
“At school,” said Ann. “There’s a plaque in their memory on the wall. We walk past it every day.”
“Huh.” She’d got the names of the two ghosts right, though I hadn’t known they were memorialised at the academy. Not for the first time, I was reminded that Hawkwood Hollow contained more history than it appeared to on the surface, and every ghost had its own story.
But was it a coincidence that one of the ghosts they’d come here to find had disappeared not long ago?
“Anyway, we aren’t doing any harm,” Cris added. “We’re just looking for the ghost, that’s all. Nothing else.”
Uh-huh. I decided not to let on that the ghost in question had recently vanished, because that would involve mentioning my new feud with the Reaper. I’d rather not have word spreading around the academy of our unwelcome visitor. Besides, with any luck, they’d give up on their ghost-hunting mission once something more interesting came along, and that’d be that.
“You’re welcome to have a look around, but if you start causing trouble on our property, then I’ll send you packing,” I said.
“Why?” said Cris. “Nobody sent Faith Murray away when she was nosing around here the other day.”
“Who?” I asked.
“A witch,” said Ann. “I’ve seen her here at least once in the last week. She’s been all around town.”
“Doing what, exactly?” I said.
“She was laying out herbs on the ground,” said Cris. “Like some kind of spell.”
“Whereabouts was this?” I asked.
“There.” Cris jabbed a finger down the path outside the inn, towards the bank of the river. “Nobody came to tell her to leave.”
“That’s because I didn’t know she was there,” I said, letting scepticism seep into my tone. “Neither did anyone else, either.”
“Well, it’s true,” said Ann. “Anyway, we’re leaving now.”
Cris looked as though she might argue, then she scowled. “Yes, we are.”
“Go on, then.” I watched them as they trailed away towards the bridge, making sure they didn’t turn around and come back when they thought I wasn’t watching them. I’d never heard of this Faith Murray person before, but for all I knew, Cris was lying. She had good reason to want to deflect attention from herself, after all.
As the group vanished onto the bridge, Allie poked her head out of the door. “Are they gone?”
“I think so,” responded Carey. “They’ll come back, though.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for them, then.” I walked back into the restaurant behind Carey. “I didn’t know one of Cris’s friends could see ghosts.”
“Neither did I.” Carey’s gaze dropped. “That explains how they got such good footage of that old house yesterday. It was genuine, what Cris posted on her blog. If they were looking for ghosts near the inn, they won’t have any trouble finding them.”
“Not when the ghost they’re looking for has vanished,” I said.
“How do you know that?” asked Carey.
“You know those two ghosts whose names they mentioned?” I said. “Cris said they were students at the academy who died in the floods. I guess the place they used to hang out isn’t there anymore, so they came to the inn instead. Thing is, I already know one of them disappeared.”
“Those kids came here looking for two of our ghosts?” said Allie.
“No,” Carey said quickly. “I mean, that isn’t why they came here. They probably asked which ghosts were at the inn so they’d have an excuse to come here and make trouble. They don’t actually care about the spirits.”
“Well, they won’t be coming back,” said Allie firmly.
“You can’t ban them from the whole restaurant,” her daughter protested. “If you do, you’ll make it worse. I told you that already.”
Hands shaking, Carey walked to the table, picked up her schoolbag, and headed for the door connecting the restaurant to the inn’s lobby.
“Hang on.” I tried to follow her, but Allie shook her head at me. Without stopping, Carey made for the stairs, Casper padding along at her side, until they were out of sight.
Allie and I exchanged glances. “Don’t worry about her, Maura. She’s just in a rough patch.”
“I know,” I said. “I wish there was something I can do, but if these kids are messing around with ghosts, this has the potential to get way out of hand. Especially when one of them actually has the gift of seeing them.”
The question was, were any of them involved with Lara’s ghost’s disappearance? I was still inclined to blame the Reaper, but if the students had been searching for stories about local spirits, it might be worth looking into—even if it was just so I’d have another option aside from antagonising Shelton the Reaper again. There were too many unknowns where he was concerned, but until I got him to spill his secrets, I’d get nowhere. On the other hand, Carey would not be impressed with me if I started questioning her classmates to see if any of them had been involved in a ghost banishment.
I’d see what the ghosts themselves said first.
6
To start off with, I went looking for the teenage ghost again, while Allie returned to the restaurant to deal with the afternoon’s customers. It took me a while to find Eric, since he must have gone to hide when the students came in. I circled the entire ground floor of the inn without finding him and was debating sending Mart to hunt him down when I spotted his ghostly figure hovering in the corner of the games room behind the inn’s lobby. The room was empty during the day, so I approached him without worrying we might be overheard.
“Hey,” I said to him. “Did you know those kids from the academy were looking for you and Lara?”
“No,” he said. “Who told them we were here? How’d they even know we existed?”
“Someone at the academy said there’s a plaque there with your names on it, so they must have asked for the story,” I said. “You sure you didn’t know they were looking for you?”
“Of course I didn’t know,” he said. “They can’t see me, can they?”
“Actually… one of them can see ghosts,” I admitted. “Are you positive you haven’t seen any students looking for you and Lara before?”
“I really haven’t seen them.” He shrank back into the corner. “I just want Lara to come back. Why can’t they leave us be?”
I frowned at him. “Can you think of a reason someone would have sent those kids to look for you and Lara?”
He shook his head. “No, I told you. I thought nobody could see us until you came along.”
“Except the Reaper,” I said, feeling slightly annoyed at the accusing note to his voice. “And the witches and wizards who have the ability to see ghosts, which includes one of those kids.”
“They didn’t banish Lara, did they?” he asked.
“I have no idea.” I opted for the honest approach. “I can’t say I know why they would want to, but my list of possible culprits is pretty short. Also, did you see a witch hanging around the other day? The students told me she was laying out herbs in front of the inn, casting some kind of spell. Faith Murray, the kids said she was called.”
“No,” he said. “I don’t know any of these people. I just want to see Lara again.”
Without a
nother word, he floated away through the door into the lobby. I didn’t blame him for being in a tetchy mood, given the unwelcome news of the academy students’ potential ghost-hunting prowess, but it wouldn’t kill him to be a little more grateful for my help.
Now that I thought harder, I wondered if he was being totally honest with me. If his and Lara’s deaths were widely known throughout the academy, how many other people in town knew his story? Anyone who’d been to the witch academy in the last two decades, potentially, which was a lot of people.
I returned to the restaurant in the hopes of finding Carey, but she was nowhere to be seen. No doubt she’d stayed in her room in the hopes of avoiding her fellow students, and I couldn’t say I blamed her in the slightest. I saw her mother working behind the bar and went to talk to her instead.
“Hey,” I said. “Allie, have you ever met Faith Murray?”
“Who, the librarian?” she said. “I haven’t. Why?”
“The kids from the academy said they saw Faith Murray hanging around the inn, doing some kind of spell,” I explained. “They said we ought to have stopped her instead of harassing them instead.”
She arched a brow. “Sure they weren’t trying to cover up whatever they were doing earlier?”
“No,” I admitted. “Seems weird for Cris to throw the blame at some random person who isn’t even here, though. They also claimed to be looking for a ghost, who happens to be the same spirit I’m searching for myself, so I’m not convinced that part was a lie.”
“Wait, really?” she said. “They were looking for the ghost of a real person, not making it up?”
“They knew the names,” I said. “Eric and Lara are a pair of teenage ghosts who haunt the restaurant, but Eric told me Lara went missing a couple of days ago. Now those kids showed up looking for both of them. Call me suspicious, but I reckon there’s something dodgy there.”
“Who even told them their names?” she remarked.
“Someone at their school,” I said. “Their names are on a plaque in remembrance of the flood victims. Not sure who told them they were ghosts, but apparently their story is well known, and they died somewhere near the inn.”