by E. E. Holmes
Lucida smirked. “You’ll have to narrow it down a bit more than that, or you could be searching for days.”
“I wasn’t planning on going door to door,” I said, defensively. “Annabelle sent a ghost to find me at Fairhaven, and she said he used to live in the flat right above hers. All we need to do is track down the ghost and we’ll find it. I got the sense he’s very invested in haunting the place.”
Lucida’s eyebrows contracted together. “She sent a ghost to you? How the hell did she do that? She’s not a Durupinen, is she?”
“No, she’s just a sensitive, a powerful one,” I said. I didn’t bother getting into her family’s Durupinen connection. There was no time for that now. “The point is, if you can get us over to the Southbank, we should be able to find her.”
“Right then,” Lucida said. “It’s as good a plan as any, at this point.”
A bright beam of light cut through the interior of the car and flashed twice. In panic, we all spun around looking for the source of it, sure we’d been caught, but Lucida merely waved a hand of acknowledgment and cut the engine. “That’s the car. Everyone out.”
We all climbed out of the SUV as directed. A sleek black car, the sort that chauffeured around wealthy businessmen, was purring quietly in the entrance to the alley. Between the dark of the early morning hour and the tint of the windows, it was impossible to see who had been driving it, but whoever it was hadn’t stuck around for a chat. By the time we’d reached it, the driver’s side door was hanging open, the key in the ignition, and no sign of the person who’d left it for us.
“Nice, eh?” Lucida said, stroking the car as she would a beloved feline. “I usually request the convertible, but as we’ve no time for a top-down pleasure cruise…”
We all piled in, and rode in tense silence across the city and over the Thames, pulling to a stop in the shadow thrown by the Tate Modern’s hulking industrial form.
Lucida turned to Hannah. “You be sure to use a Summoner, a blind one, when you’ve settled in, to let me know where you are.”
“Lucida, you know I’ve never really tried that before. What if it doesn’t work?”
“With the control you just showed over those ghosts back there? Of course it will work,” Lucida said. “Just follow the casting, you’ll be fine.”
“Okay, I’ll try,” Hannah said, although she looked terrified. “Good luck, Lucida.”
“We’re all going to need as much as we can get. I’ve got to waltz in there like I’ve got no idea what’s going on, and hope they believe me when I play dumb. Fortunately, I’m rarely where I’m supposed to be, and I have a handy habit of dropping off the grid and catching flack for it, so here’s hoping they think I’m just up to my usual shenanigans.”
“Yeah, they were looking for you at the meeting, and no one was exactly surprised you blew it off,” I offered.
“Excellent. My reputation precedes me. Here, take this.” She reached a hand down the front of her shirt and extracted a roll of money. She tossed it to Hannah, who caught it automatically. “Get some food and some clean clothes. Some painkillers probably wouldn’t go amiss either,” she added, looking at me. “Once you’ve got what you need, don’t leave that flat for anything if you can help it. Wait until you hear from me.”
And without another word, she peeled off down the street, tires squealing in protest.
“What’s a blind Summoner?” I asked Hannah.
“It’s a way that Callers can use ghosts to send messages. Lucida taught me how to do it in our mentor sessions. Well, she demonstrated it last week, but I never had a chance to actually try it myself. I’ll explain it better later,” she said, tearing her eyes from the spot where Lucida had disappeared, and shivering violently. “Let’s get under cover. I don’t like being out here like this, with nowhere to go.”
“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Finn said. His eyes were darting around the darkened street, and his stance was tensed for confrontation. “Who is this ghost and how do we find him?”
“His name is Lyle McElroy. Annabelle sent him to find me when she needed to talk to me. You remember, Finn, he was the ghost who came to find me in Keira’s class, the one you expelled when you thought he was getting hostile.”
“Thereby making you very hostile,” Savvy said with a snort.
I cracked what was probably the first smile my face had worn in twenty-four hours. It felt strange. “Uh, yeah, I guess so. Anyway, before you expelled him, I learned that he haunts his old flat right above Annabelle’s, so if we can find him, we’ll have a better chance of finding her.”
“But you don’t know where the flat is?”
“Not exactly, no, but Annabelle told me it was only a few blocks from here, so that should narrow it down.”
Finn rolled his eyes. “Yes, but like Lucida said, we can’t just knock on the door of every flat within—”
“We don’t need to,” I said, cutting across him. “We have a Caller, remember?”
We all looked at Hannah who seemed to shrink several inches under our gazes. “Isn’t there some other way to find him?”
I frowned. “Not unless we take Finn’s suggestion and start knocking on doors, and that would take hours, maybe days. Why can’t you just Call him?”
Hannah shrugged, lowering her eyes to the ground, where she watched her own foot kick around a pebble on the ground. She didn’t answer.
“What’s going on, sweetness?” Milo asked her. But I thought I already knew.
“Hannah,” I said, and waited until she looked up. “You don’t need to be afraid to Call. You’ve been doing it for years. What happened back at Fairhaven, it wasn’t your fault. If you hadn’t used the spirits, we’d be locked in the dungeons right now, and who knows what Marion might have convinced them to do to us. The fire was a complete accident; if anything, it was Marion’s fault for forcing your hand.”
Hannah bit her lip. Her eyes had filled with tears while I was talking.
“She’s right,” Finn said, his voice very gentle; indeed, much gentler than I would have thought possible. “You gave Marion a choice. She could have let us go peacefully, but she chose to take her chances and face the spirits.”
“But I couldn’t stop,” Hannah said, her voice choked with tears. “Once I started and the energy was running through me, and I could control them like that…” Her voice trailed away, but she didn’t need to finish. I’d seen the blind power take her over. I’d watched her become entranced by it, and I wondered, even now, what she might have done if we hadn’t been there to stop her. But I couldn’t think about that now. There was no time.
“You did stop,” I said firmly. “And anyway, we’re not asking you to do anything like that. This is a Calling; a simple Calling, like you’ve been doing perfectly safely for years. And we need it, Hannah. We may be miles from Fairhaven, but we’re not safe yet.”
“You can do it, sweetness,” Milo said, slinking up beside her and laying the length of his cold, calming presence against her. “Jess is right, this isn’t anything like at Fairhaven.”
“You see?” I cried, gesturing to Milo and regretting it immediately as pain knifed through my arm. “Milo agrees with me! This is historic! Someone should be taking this down for posterity. Finn, take notes, where’s your usual stash of diaries?”
Finn scowled at me but I didn’t care. Hannah smiled in spite of herself and, at Milo’s encouraging nudge, nodded her head. “You’re right. Okay, I’ll do it.”
“Thank you,” I told her.
“But before I do, we should split up,” Hannah said.
Finn looked alarmed. “We should stick together,” he said.
“I know it feels safer to stay together, but that will only waste time,” Hannah said, shaking her head. “We have two things we need to do: buy supplies and find the flat. If we split up, we can get both of those things done at the same time.”
Finn raised his eyebrows, evidently impressed with the logic of this argument.
“Blimey,” Savvy said, thumbing through the bills with widened eyes. “There’s got to be a thousand quid here, easy!”
“Try not to spend it all,” I said. “That might have to last us a while.”
Savvy checked her watch. “It’s still hours before most of the shops open, so the clothes will have to wait, but I should be able to track down some food, anyway.”
“And the painkillers,” I said. “For the love of God, don’t forget the painkillers.”
“Some more bandages and antiseptic, too,” Finn added, with a wary glance at my arms.
“Right,” Savvy said, putting the money down her own ample cleavage for safekeeping. She turned to Milo. “You ready to shop, love?”
“Oh honey, I was born ready,” Milo said. He blew a kiss to Hannah. “You be careful, and call me if you need me.”
“I will,” Hannah said, smiling.
Milo and Savvy turned off into the darkness, one figure in shadow, one luminescent with its own dull light.
I watched them go until they slipped out of sight around the corner and then turned to Hannah. “Okay, then,” I said. “Do your thing.”
Hannah took a breath, a bit shuddery, but deep, and closed her eyes to center herself. She was quiet for several moments as she searched. Finn, evidently tired of looking repeatedly over his shoulder, started to walk in a slow deliberate circle around us, better to keep an eye on all possible angles.
“Sorry, there are a lot of ghosts in this city,” Hannah murmured after a moment. “I feel like I’m looking for a needle in a haystack.”
“That’s okay, take your time,” I coaxed her. “You’re doing great.”
Finn glared at me, and I shrugged defensively. Apparently “take your time” wouldn’t have been his chosen turn of phrase. I guess “hurry the hell up” would have been more like it.
“That might be him,” Hannah said suddenly into the tense silence.
“You found him?” I asked. My pulse quickened, which only made the pain in my hands and arms worse.
“I’m not completely sure. He’s… it feels like the right energy. And there’s a really strong attachment to the apartment.”
“Yeah, that fits,” I said. “Annabelle said he was obsessed with making sure his stuff didn’t get thrown out.”
“He’s actually kind of hysterical about feeling my pull away from the place. I don’t want to force him, or he might freak out,” Hannah said. She opened her eyes and looked at me. I tried to arrange my expression so that it wasn’t contorted in agony, but I wasn’t quick enough. “Look at you. I don’t think you’re up to any sort of casting if we have to control him.”
“I’m fine,” I lied. “Anyway, we don’t need to bring him here. Can you just follow his energy to wherever he’s tied? We really just need to find the right place.”
Hannah sagged with relief. “You’re right. Okay great, let’s go.”
“Lead the way,” Finn said. “I’ll bring up the rear. Keep your eyes peeled for anyone who looks too interested in what we’re doing.”
2
Refuge
MY PREVAILING THOUGHT, as we made our way down the street, was that we couldn’t have looked odder or more conspicuous if we tried: me, staggering along under the combined influence of exhaustion and whatever dwindling drugs remained in my bloodstream; Hannah, stopping every few feet to stand motionless with her eyes closed before jogging off again; and Finn, hackles raised, circling us like a jackal, his stance whenever we paused poised for a fight against any and all attackers lurking in the shadows. Everyone who caught a glimpse of us stared openly, and by the time we came to a stop in front of a run-down brick apartment building, I was sure there wasn’t a single person on the street who wouldn’t have remembered us if someone questioned them.
“This is it,” Hannah said, heaving a sigh of relief. “He’s up there, apartment 6F.”
We entered the building and trudged up the stairs, but only made it up to the apartment after I stopped to rest, panting and dizzy, on two different landings.
“This would go more quickly if I carried you,” Finn said.
I’m not entirely sure what expression crossed my face at this suggestion, but it caused both him and Hannah to step back several paces in alarm. I staggered back to my feet and started mounting the next flight of stairs without another word.
Finally we stopped in front of the door of 6F.
“What do we do now?” Hannah asked. “I mean, I could Call him out here, but that doesn’t help up get into the apartment.”
“Too bad we sent Savvy shopping. I bet she knows how to pick locks,” I wheezed.
“She’s not the only one with that skill set,” Finn muttered. He was already reaching into his coat pocket and extracting a small set of metal tools.
“You’re kidding me,” I said. “You just happen to have a lock picking kit hanging out in your pocket?”
“Caomhnóir need to be prepared for anything,” Finn said, working two of the instruments into the battered lock and beginning to jiggle them around.
“So, what else have you got in that coat?” I asked. “Walkie-talkies? Explosives? Do you have one of those pens that doubles as a recording device, like James Bond?”
“Will you shut up and let me work, please?” Finn growled, starting to sound a bit more like his hostile self.
I decided that quick, undetected entry was higher on my priority list than snappy comebacks, so I did indeed, rather uncharacteristically, shut up so that he could concentrate. Hannah glanced anxiously up and down the hallway, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Finally, after what felt like a very long thirty seconds, the lock clicked and the door swung open. Finn reached his hand around the doorway and fumbled along the wall until he found the light switch.
My first thought was that we’d opened the door into one of those documentaries about hoarders. Most of the room was buried in pile upon teetering pile of newspapers and magazines, rising up like a recyclable model of a city skyline all around us. The walls were covered in shelves, and the shelves were crammed with all manner of small dusty knick-knacks: figurines, teacups, thimbles, and the like.
“What the bloody hell?” Finn muttered.
He took a cautious step forward, and we followed him. He stood on tiptoe and brushed a plume of dust off the top of the nearest stack.
“It’s a copy of The Daily Mail with a cover story about the royal wedding,” Finn said, examining the faded photo. “Looks like this whole mound is copies of the same issue.”
I glanced at the pile nearest me. Beneath the film of filth I could make out a large photograph of Prince William beaming toothily.
“Well, at least we know that no one’s living here,” Hannah said. “There’s no way they’ve rented out the flat again if it’s in this state.”
We ventured in a few more steps. The place smelled overwhelmingly of cats. I was suddenly terrified that we would shift one of those mountains of paper and find one, squashed and mummified under fifty pounds of backdated Hello! magazines.
“Everything on this shelf is commemorative royal stuff,” Hannah said, edging her way over to the nearest display. She gingerly lifted and held up what looked like a bobble-head of Queen Elizabeth II. “What is all this junk, do you think?”
“Junk? What do you mean, junk?” came a sudden, waspish voice. Lyle McElroy materialized beside Hannah, who jumped and nearly dropped what she was holding. “And be careful with that! It’s a collector’s item! These are all collector’s items, some of them very rare, and are worth a lot of money, so I would appreciate it if you kept your hands off of them!”
“I’m sorry,” Hannah said, hastily replacing the figurine beside a tea c
ozy bearing the royal crest.
“Well, you should be! What are you doing here anyw—” Lyle stopped short and stared at Hannah. “Wait, you heard me?”
“Yes, we can all hear you, Lyle,” I said.
Lyle’s head snapped up and he spotted me for the first time. “You? What are you doing in my flat? That ginger pest of a friend of yours hasn’t sent you to harass me again, has she?”
“No, I decided to come and harass you all on my own,” I said. “But speaking of Annabelle, have you seen her recently?”
“No, thank my lucky stars,” Lyle grumbled. “I haven’t seen her in at least a week. And I still don’t understand why I’m seeing you, especially here in the middle of the— DON’T TOUCH THOSE!”
Finn froze with his hand on the corner of another heap.
“Those are very, very valuable historical documents!” Lyle said, vanishing and appearing offensively close to Finn.
Finn caught my eye and very nearly smiled. “Mate, I hate to break it to you, but this is just a stack of rubbishy old magazines. You’d be better off binning them.”
Lyle was practically apoplectic with rage. “Binning them? Don’t you see? Everyone else will have binned them, but I kept them! I preserved them for posterity! I don’t think you understand the importance of this collection. It is, I am quite sure, the most complete collection of important royal memorabilia in all of the city and, quite conceivably, the world. It’s worth a fortune!”
“Lyle, we need to um… stay here for a little while,” I said.
Lyle stared at me. “What do you mean, stay here?”
“I mean we are in some trouble, and we need a place to lay low in the city while we figure out what to do next. And seeing as no one is living here at the moment…”
Lyle drew himself up, clearly affronted. “Oh, and I suppose because I’m not technically alive, that means this isn’t my flat anymore?” He put the word ‘alive’ in quotation marks, as though it were a mythical state of being instead of a medical fact.