Bound by Memories

by Kaje Harper

  Mine? The ghost drifted nearer. Key? Where’s Mary?

  “She kept this to remember you by.” Silas readied his snare. “But she’s gone now. Time for you to join her.”

  Mary? The ghost began to turn away. Suddenly the yowl of a hunting cat rose behind the trees, eerie in the still dusk. The ghost froze, listening.

  “You wanted to keep Mary safe, didn’t you?” Silas said. He tilted the key. “Safe home. That’s where you’d have taken her. Behind a good locked door.”

  Grim’s snarling howl could’ve come from a much bigger creature. The ghost drifted in a circle between Silas and the hidden cat.

  My key! The poltergeist suddenly rushed at Silas, kicking up a spray of snow and ice chips and pinecones. The stinging debris played havoc with Silas’s perceptions, until Pip’s rapidfire barking thinned the onslaught. Silas made out the tattered mist of the ghost coalescing as it charged him.

  He gathered power and cast his loop. The snare snagged something of Joshua; he felt the weight and intensity of the ghost in the coils of his spell. Quickly, he threw more loops around that weight, fumbling behind him for the bag of chalk as he reeled the ghost in toward his circle. Suddenly his foot skidded on a slick spot and he tumbled backward. He hit the ground with a jolt that echoed through him, and his focus slipped. The poltergeist began sliding through the loops of his spell.

  Darien slapped a warm hand on Silas’s neck above his collar, and the golden light of Darien’s power dove into Silas’s runes. The coils of his trap glowed bright, gold and green sliding together into a net around the poltergeist, refining to a dense mesh, then solidifying into a wall without gaps. The ghost flung itself against the wall over and over, but the strength of his magic and Darien’s made holding that containment easy.

  No! the ghost screamed. Mine! Mary! No! Its shape tattered further the frantic whirl of rising fury, but no new snow or debris took flight. Silas pulled in a deep breath and glanced up at Darien who stood behind him, a hand still braced on Silas’s neck.

  “Thanks. But— what did you do?” This ghost containment was more like a vessel than a coil, his runes pulled out of shape as if that golden power had melted them.

  “I just pushed power into your runes. Like I did with Jasper’s beam on the River bank.”

  “Not quite like.” They were definitely going to have to explore what just happened, but not at this precise moment. “Can you keep the power there?” He wasn’t sure what would happen if Darien let go.

  “Sure. Your runes aren’t taking much.”

  Not much for you. He had more than one reason to be grateful for Darien’s strength. Silas stood carefully, so as not to dislodge Darien’s hand from his skin. Inside the containment, the poltergeist raged and sobbed.

  “Now what?” Darien asked. “Do we take this ghost to the River together?”

  “I suppose we’ll have to.” He glanced down, grimacing at the smudges where he’d landed on his chalk. “Or perhaps, when I have my circle recreated, you ease back your power and I can get a better grip.”

  “He sounds so sad.” Darien raised his voice. “Ghost? Joshua. Silas was telling you the truth. Mary’s passed on. We’ll take you to her.”

  Silas could tell the ghost had heard him. Its sobs quieted. Truly?

  “I swear,” Darien said. “On my honor.”

  She’s dead? You’ll take me to her grave? The ghost sounded more coherent than ever. Perhaps being surrounded by Darien’s golden light did that.

  But— “Not her grave,” Silas said. “We’ll guide you on, to where her soul is now.”

  She’s dead? She’s not dead. Is she? I want to see her grave.

  “That’s not possible.”

  He promised. The ghost’s swirling became more agitated again. He swore. Honor. Mary! I want to see her. Please!

  Darien grimaced. “Yeah, I did, but…” He hesitated, glancing at Silas. “Could we? We have him contained, for now. Could we bring him to the graveyard before the River?”

  “What?” Silas tried to rein in his sarcasm. “Just load him up in the car and drive him there?”

  “Well, why not?” Darien said. “It’s not like he takes much space.” Silas felt the push of Darien’s power through the runes and the containment shrank down to something no bigger than a man. “He’d fit. I did swear to him.”

  “You didn’t mean your promise that way.” But between the agitated ghost and the question in Darien’s shadowed eyes, the insane began to seem possible.

  Grim stalked toward them over the snow and jumped down into the little clearing. “Breaking oaths is a bad idea.”

  “Even though it wasn’t the promise he meant?”

  The ghost swirled in the containment. Mary. Mary. See her grave. Dead? Not dead. A face began forming— a teen boy, brows heavy, nose a bit big for his face, jaw determined. Will you take me? I need to know. Please? A tear glistened in one translucent eye, then ran down his cheek.

  Pip jumped down off the snow too. “He’s sad. Can you help him?”

  Silas closed his eyes, feeling his way through the runes holding the ghost, his layout familiar and yet with unique changes encompassing shape and strength. How the hell does he do that? The walls seemed to be holding fine though. He blinked and turned his attention to Darien. “You really want to try this?”

  Darien broke into a grin. “Yeah. It’ll be cool, right? An experiment. He’s not very dangerous, if we lose our grip. I mean, a few pinecones never killed anyone.”

  “You recall the falling tree?”

  “Well, compared to a demon.”

  Silas sighed. “All right. But we can’t let Stevenson see what we’re doing.”

  “Pip and I will distract him,” Grim said.

  Silas looked down at him. “Aren’t you going to tell me what a foolish idea this is?”

  Grim tossed his furry head. “The boy’s right. You’re already doing an experiment. Why not test your limits?”

  Why not indeed… we may be about to find out. But he couldn’t deny there was a certain thrill in doing something new, something Harrowsmith had never taught him, perhaps something his mentor could never even have envisioned. “All right. We’ll walk carefully back toward the car. You, Joshua, if you want to see Mary you have to hold still and not jolt us.”

  The ghostly head nodded, an odd effect with no real body below the neck. Hold still. Go see Mary.

  “That’s right,” Darien agreed warmly. “We’ll take you.”

  “You hear him fine?” Silas asked. The previous poltergeists they’d encountered had been harder for Darien to make out.

  “Yup. Could be having my power around him. Shall we start walking?”

  “Slowly. Let’s try.”

  Grim said, “I’ll pick up the chalk so you don’t land on your butt again, O graceful one.” The cat bent and patted at the strings of the bag.

  “What do I do?” Pip asked, dancing around them. “I want to help.”

  “How good is your Fetch?” Grim asked. “You think you could topple over a tree or two?”

  “In the forest?” Pip eyed the dark shapes around them. “That’s hard.”

  “No, birdbrain,” Grim lifted the bag and muttered around the cords. “One o’ the leanin’ ones on the lot.”

  “Oh. I could probably do those. They’re cut. But I don’t have a bird brain. Troy does.”

  “I wou’n’t advise sayin’ so to him.”

  “You told Troy I wasn’t as stupid as I look.” Pip’s big ears twitched as if he was still trying to parse that comment.

  Grim grumbled softly. “I might cha’ge my mind. Come on, le’s see what you can do.” He trotted off ahead, and after a glance at Darien, Pip followed him.

  Darien murmured, “I’m still not sure how Grim feels about Pip.”

  “Pip is good for him,” Silas said. “Gets him out of a rut.” Much the way you’ve done for me. “Okay, let’s get this show on the road.”

  Darien’s hand stayed steady, warm ag
ainst the skin of Silas’s neck, as they walked down the path. They pushed the bubble with the ghost ahead of them, not that different from dragging a poltergeist toward the river. He could walk— carefully— and keep the rune structure balanced, and move the containment along. Darien’s flow of power buoyed him up like a summer breeze in the dark night.

  As they neared the parking lot, Grim appeared ahead of them. “We’re set,” he said. “Junior will create a disturbance on the other side of the owner’s hut. When you hear the noise, you two get your ghost in the car. And by all that’s holy, figure out how you’re going to drive without losing control before you do that. Stop down by the road and Pip and I will join you there.” He turned and trotted off.

  Darien laughed, a high-pitched sound. “How are we going to drive?”

  “Carefully?” Silas gave the matter some thought. “Are you having to focus on the runes, or just feed them power?”

  “Just power, right now. Through you.” Silas couldn’t see if Darien was smiling, but his voice sounded fond as he rubbed Silas’s neck. “I kinda like this.”

  I do too. He said, “You should drive. I’m keeping the runes balanced. Get in from the passenger side, slide on over, and I’ll follow you in. Open the back door first, and we’ll get the ghost in there.”

  “Good plan. Should we go closer?”

  “Yes. Head on slowly.”

  They were at the edge of the lot when the racket started. A clatter echoed, followed by a thud and Stevenson’s raised voice. “Damn it!”

  “Our signal,” Silas whispered.

  It took a little maneuvering to get all three of them in the car and the doors shut, but they managed the job before the noises from the other side of the hut died down. Darien dug the keys out of Silas’s pocket one-handed, started the car, and paused. “Gear shift.”

  “Here, I’ll try putting my hand on you.” There was no hardship in laying his palm on Darien’s skin above his collar. Silas felt the power flow realign to their new contact point, then Darien moved his hand from Silas to the shift lever. Silas’s foolish neck abruptly felt chilled at the loss. He reminded himself to focus. “Go ahead. We still have him.”

  In the back seat, the ghost containment lay across the seat like a duffle bag. Or a coffin. Joshua’s face looked serene for once, eyes closed, although his lips moved silently. More of his body had formed, shaping into a thin teen in a heavy jacket and boots, though bits still sometimes swirled into streamers, then rejoined the whole. Silas kept his head cranked over his shoulder to keep a physical eye as well as a psychic one on the ghost.

  At the bottom of the tree farm’s drive, Darien paused the car. Silas managed to fumble his door open one-handed, and Grim trotted toward them with Pip behind him. They both jumped into the car, Grim on his lap, Pip into the footwell. Grim rose on his haunches to peer into the back. “Well, that’s not something you see every day.”

  “I should hope not.” Silas began to feel the drain, a little headache forming at the base of his skull. “Let’s go.”

  The trip to St. Timothy’s Church took about fifteen minutes on mostly empty roads. Darien drove carefully, while Silas stabilized the ghost. Joshua seemed to sleep, although once his eyes opened and he said, Mary?

  “We’re taking you to her,” Darien said, eyes on the road.

  All right. The ghost’s features hazed and stilled.

  They stopped on the side of the road outside the graveyard gates. Like many places, the cemetery closed at dusk, and the gates were already shut.

  “If those gates are locked, we have a problem,” Silas pointed out.

  Pip jumped up to his lap, jostling Grim, and looked out the window. “Fetch!” One of the iron halves swung open slowly. Pip panted. “Not locked.”

  “Far out! Thanks, Pip.” Darien pulled slowly forward into the graveyard.

  In the back, the ghost seemed to wake with a jolt. Mary? Is she here?

  “We’re finding her grave,” Silas told him. “Have patience. We’re almost there.”

  Darien parked at the far end, under an oak tree, where the newest graves were located. They’d come out to check the gravesite for ghosts earlier that day, but finding the right headstone in the dark would be trickier. After extricating themselves and Joshua from the car, they paused while Silas scanned the landmarks. “That way?”

  Grim said, “If you want to find something, ask a cat. This way.” He headed off between the rows, and they followed him, the ghost in its shell floating ahead of them and Pip bringing up the rear.

  Grim jumped up on a headstone two rows over. “This one.”

  Mary? Is that her? The ghost began pushing at the containment walls.

  The throb at the back of Silas’s head intensified. “Yes. We’ll get you close to her.”

  Grim jumped off the headstone as they maneuvered the containment up against the simple granite. The stone stood crisp and new, the lettering clear. “Mary Browning nee Gleason. March 10 1901 to November 22 1962. Beloved wife, mother, and grandmother.”

  The ghost swirled up against the wall of the containment. Gravestone. Mary. She died? She’s dead?

  “Yes.” Darien said softly, and Silas felt him swallow against Silas’s touch on his neck. “But you see the dates? November 1962. She lived to be over sixty.”

  Lived? I saved her?

  “You did. You gave your life to save her.”

  Mary. Joshua’s voice held a new tone, a deep contentment. The ghost-mist formed two hands, laying them against the containment over the stone. Long life. She’s resting now.

  “Time for you to rest too,” Silas told him. “Time to find her spirit again.”

  You know where she is?

  “I can bring you to her.” Silas glanced around. He’d forgotten to bring his chalk. Idiot. Distracted by this new power-meld and forgetting your basics. The snow and ice didn’t offer many choices for building a circle.

  Grim leaped lightly to the crusted snow and traced a paw through the thin dusting on top. “This makes a line. I know your runes. I write, you power?”

  “Go, Grim!” Darien cheered.

  Silas had to chuckle. “Yes. Thank you. I don’t need his name in the circle now. Just standard precautions.”

  “Don’t teach your grandmother to suck eggs.” Grim began circling.

  Pip peered up at him, forehead wrinkled. “What eggs?”

  “Never mind.” Darien smiled down at the dog, and held out an arm. “Want to come up?”

  “Oh yes. My feet are cold.” Pip bounced into Darien’s arms, while Silas hung onto the containment structure and his touch on Darien’s neck.

  Joshua had fully formed now, a young man kneeling at the foot of the carved stone, his hands against the barrier between him and the granite. He didn’t turn around as Grim finished his circle pass at the opening and paused.

  “Come, puppy, we need to guard them from outside,” Grim said. “Lure away folks who might come close.”

  “Oh. Yes, we’ll keep them safe.” Pip jumped down and landed through the snow crust, burying himself deep. He struggled out, snorting. “Oops. Cold.”

  “Get out here, carefully, and be glad you didn’t smudge my lines.”

  “Yes, Grim.” Pip shook himself, then gave a guilty glance around where the snow had fallen, and trotted through the gap in the circle. Sitting down, he cocked his head as if listening to the quiet cemetery.

  Grim glanced at Silas. “Make it fast, O sentimental ones. I don’t want to end up playing guard to two corpsicles.” He scrawled the locking rune with one furry paw.

  Silas pushed his power into the runes, feeling their familiar shape. He and Grim had been doing this job together for years and the construct fit his power perfectly. The faint green haze of his magic rose around them, enclosing the headstone and the kneeling ghost. “Time to go,” he told Joshua. “Darien, you focus on staying close and feeding in the power. I’ll get us to the River.” He pulled up the runes in his mind and opened the Veil.

/>   The dark fog that closed around them didn’t mute the shine of the ghost’s containment. Gold and green swirled around the translucent figure. Joshua got to his feet. His voice came clearly, his mouth moving as he spoke. “Where are we?”

  “We’re going to find Mary. So you both can rest.”

  “Oh, good. Are we going far?”

  “No. The River’s this way. Come on.” The last trip he’d made with a poltergeist had been a struggle against the unwilling. Joshua’s eager cooperation made things much easier. Silas kept his hand on Darien and they moved the containment along, but the ghost seemed to be walking too, his spirit keeping pace with them.

  They reached the bank of the River after barely a minute, breaking out of the fog onto the pebbled shore. The shining River dimmed the containment, and Joshua strained toward the water. “I hear Mary. And my mother!” He seemed to hesitate. “Mother will be angry…”

  “You put your hat on Mary’s head, your mittens on her hands.” Mary’s granddaughter had repeated that, in the sing-song of an oft-told story. “You sheltered her under your jacket and she lived. Your mother won’t be angry.” Such a promise might be rash, but nothing about the River suggested that anger or hate or fear lived there. “She’s waiting.”

  “I have to go—” Joshua shoved at the containment wall.

  “Should we take the trap down?” Darien whispered.

  Usually, Silas had to carry the ghost to the river and immerse it, but this time seemed different. “Yes. On three. One, two, three.” On three he pictured the runes melting, and lifted his hand from Darien’s neck. The structure disintegrated, sparkles of gold and green flying apart and fading like a dying firework. Silas flinched from the backlash. Joshua laughed delightedly and ran.

  Darien slid an arm around Silas, and he leaned into Darien’s body as the slip of a ghost sprinted to the bank of the water and waded in. Three steps to reach his hips, another, still laughing, and then he sank beneath the water without a sound.