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by Kaje Harper

  Darien said, “How do we figure out what’s happening? Silas, can you lurk about down by the River? On the chance you’ll spot something out of place?”

  From the doorway, Grim said, “He’d better not. Too much time beside the River’s not healthy for anyone living, even a necromancer.”

  Pip bounded in. “Hi Darien! There were mice. And rabbits. And many good smells. What are we doing now?”

  Jasper suggested, “What you need is to figure out who’s going to become the next ghost, and watch them. That’d be a trick to predict, though.”

  “Hm, there’s something to that.” Silas thought about it. “Right now, it seems like almost every death in this town is creating a ghost. So we’d just need to know who’s likely to die soon.”

  “Pasternak’s wife,” Jasper said soberly. “For starters.”

  “True. But he’s not likely to let any of us hang about her. He’s watching her closely anyway; I doubt he’d let anything harm her, before death or after.”

  Darien said, “Is there a hospital? Maybe an old folks’ home?”

  Jasper put his chalk into the little bag by the ladder and dusted his hands. “There’s the clinic. Although people who are worst off get sent to the city hospital, unless they’re too critical to make the trip. Or there’s Nurse Oliver. She’s the one folks hire when they’ve a grandparent home who needs full time nursing. Personally, I think Nurse Oliver’s your best bet. She’s supposed to be uncanny for knowing who’s on death’s door. And you know who’s her good friend? Clarice.”

  Pip bounded over to Jasper. “I like Clarice. She smells like cookies. You smell like cats.”

  Jasper laughed, then nodded to Grim. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Prettily said,” Grim purred.

  Silas was irritated that he couldn’t dislike the man. “That’s a good suggestion. We’ll ask her.”

  Darien said, “And if you have any other ideas, you can call us at the boarding house. I’d love to talk to you more about your work, and some theories I have about energy structure.”

  Or not. They said goodbyes, and Silas led the way toward their car, while Jasper went back in his house for a “little lie-down.” As he opened the back door, he asked Grim, “Anything odd in your wanderings?”

  “Nothing. Although those two cats aren’t doing their jobs. The place is fairly teeming with mice.” Grim leaped in and Pip bounded onto the seat after him.

  Darien chuckled. “Jasper probably feeds them too much for them to bother hunting.”

  “I don’t mind that in a man,” Grim admitted.

  Silas ground the gears pulling out, his bad mood making him clumsy. They were no further along in their ghost problem, and he was smart enough to know he’d been stupidly jealous. What a waste of time. For those of us who didn’t make a new friend. Namely, me.

  Darien’s hand landed warm on his thigh. “We’ll figure it out. You’re the smartest guy I know.”

  He shouldn’t have needed to hear that, but the words and the touch let him breathe, and his next change of gears was smooth as silk.

  Chapter 5

  Darien huddled in the rapidly cooling front seat of the car later that night. They were parked two doors down from the home of one Edwina Barstow, a great-grandmother of ninety-three, barely conscious with some kind of lung disease. Clarice had found out she was Nurse Oliver’s most worrisome patient at the moment. “So what’s the plan?” he asked Silas.

  “I need to get in there for a moment and put a tracer spell on her. Something that will ping me when she’s dying, so I can dive after her spirit and see if a ghost is forming.”

  “We’re not going to have to sit out here in the car until that happens, are we?” Darien shivered. The chill was already seeping through his clothes. “It could be weeks.”

  “The whole point is not to have to sit here,” Silas said. “If I have a link, I can find her at the River from a distance. We have too much to do to wait around for one thread of this puzzle to work out.”

  “Well, thank goodness for that.” Darien put a hand on Silas’s thigh, rubbing the warm muscle under chilled wool slacks. “This is a very cramped space for some of what I want to do.”

  Silas removed his hand, but kissed his fingers, there in the dark. “That’s true. Later.”

  Outside the car, Grim jumped up to tap on Silas’s window. Silas swung the front door open to let the big cat in. In the back seat, Pip bounced up and down. “Did you see her? Are we going to do something?”

  Grim leaped to Silas’s lap, then Darien’s shoulder, forcing him to brace under twenty pounds of tabby. Grim glanced over his shoulder into the back. “Keep your fur on and keep quiet, short stuff.” He turned to Silas, giving Darien a mouthful of fluff. “The nurse is with the old lady. There’s no one else home I can see. Window’s latched, but I can probably get it from the inside. Unless Fetch here can flip it with his Talent.”

  “Is it little and fiddly?” Pip sounded unusually subdued. “I’m not good at moving little fiddly things. I mostly bring them to me.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “Here’s the plan then,” Silas said. “Darien, you ring the doorbell. Odds are the nurse will answer, if she’s the only one home. You two familiars, when she opens the door, you slip inside. Pip, your job is to get her to chase you around the house away from the old lady’s room. Darien, offer to help but don’t go in unless she invites you. We don’t want to get picked up for home invasion. While you keep her busy, Grim will let me in the old lady’s window, then go out and join the fun.”

  “How long do you need for your spell?” Darien asked. This sounded half fun, half insane.

  “A minute. I have to trace some runes on her skin. A pity the nurse knows every doctor and clergyman around, so a simple disguise won’t get me in to see her.”

  “So a count of sixty after Grim reappears?”

  “Make it a hundred,” Silas said.

  “Slow old man.” Darien couldn’t resist teasing. Silas was still hung up on their ages, even with Darien looking the way he did. Annoying him out of it was Darien’s chosen weapon.

  Silas elbowed him heavily. “Says the guy who couldn’t do a ghost-tagging spell with a hundred years and a holy grail. Let’s go.”

  They separated outside the car. Darien waited until Silas was hidden by the side hedge, then approached the front door with the two familiars at his heels. Grim plastered himself up against the house beside the door, and yanked Pip next to him with one big forepaw. Darien rang the bell.

  It took two rings before the door opened to reveal a comfortable-looking woman in a nurse’s uniform and cap. “Can I help you, sir?”

  “I’m afraid I’m a bit lost,” Darien said, pulling out a map. “Can you perhaps tell me—” At their feet, Grim slipped over the threshold and Pip barged in pursuit, barking wildly.

  “What on earth—?” The nurse whirled, flapping her apron at them. “Shoo, beasts, shoo!” Grim disappeared, and Pip began a circuit of the living room, barking merrily and leaping from couch to armchair. The nurse threw a look after Grim, but focused on the invader she could see. “Down, you scamp! Stop! Sit! Heel!”

  Pip yapped away and grabbed the corner of a crocheted throw, pulling it off the couch in a swirl of color. The nurse grabbed the opposite corner and yanked. Pip dug in his nails and pulled back for a second, then let go. The nurse staggered into the chair, her arms full of blanket.

  Darien called, “Shall I come in and help?”

  “Get your darned dog!” the nurse demanded.

  “He’s not mine.” Darien came in cautiously and offered her a hand up. “I think he was chasing… your cat.” Grim reappeared, leaping to the back of the couch as Pip bounced and barked.

  “The owners don’t have a cat,” the nurse snapped. “Help me get these stray animals out of here.”

  Darien began counting, making ineffectual grabs at Grim and Pip as they chased each other around the couch. After a hundred, he added
another twenty for safety, then scooped Pip up and hugged him to his chest. “I have the dog!”

  “Take it out. I’m getting a broom.” The nurse dashed off. She was heading away from the downstairs bedroom, so that was fine.

  Grim crouched on the back of the armchair and muttered, “Oh no, the broom.”

  Darien choked on laughter, and said loudly enough for the returning woman to hear, “You naughty puppy. Your owner should give you a good spank with a rolled-up newspaper. Out you go.” He strode to the door and deposited Pip on the step. Pip leaped down the stairs and was off across the lawn like a streak.

  Darien turned back to where the nurse was approaching Grim, broom out like a knight’s lance. “Shoo,” she said. “Out. Shoo, you big brute.”

  She poked at Grim with the broom. He yawned at her, mouth open on white fangs, big enough that she visibly paused for a second. Then he jumped down and sauntered to the door and sat down to lick his shoulder. Darien couldn’t resist saying, “You’re sure he’s not yours?”

  “We don’t have a cat.” The nurse advanced, shaking the broom. “Scat. Git!”

  With supreme indifference, Grim paced through the doorway and into the night.

  “Well, that was exciting.” Darien stepped out onto the porch too and bent to pick up the map he’d dropped. “Now, I don’t suppose you can tell me—” He was cut off by the slam of the door in his face. “I think she doesn’t like me.” He turned and made his way down the block to the car.

  Silas was already in the driver’s seat, with the familiars in the back, and he pulled away from the curb as soon as Darien’s door was closed. “That sounded exciting,” Silas said. “Everyone okay?”

  “It was fun!” Pip said. “I pulled and let go. She sat down. Did you see her?”

  “We’re fine,” Darien said. “Did you get the spell set?”

  “Up and running. It’ll take some power as we get further away, but luckily I’m topped up.”

  “So what’s next?” He set his hand where it had been five minutes earlier. “I have some ideas…”

  “Down, boy.” Silas shifted gears, then lifted Darien’s hand away again. “I want a look at that bakery poltergeist, if we can find it.”

  “Oh.” Well, if sex wasn’t on offer, Darien could admit he was curious too. “You think it’s still there?”

  “If it was strong enough to topple pans recently, it’s not likely to have faded away.” Silas made a left turn, drove a few more blocks, and pulled over outside a closed bakery storefront.

  Behind the glass, display cakes made Darien’s stomach growl. “You think we might be able to snag a doughnut while we’re at it?”

  “Oooh, yes,” Pip agreed. “I’ve never had a doughnut. I don’t think. I’ve heard of them. Yummy!”

  “I doubt we’ll be able to cross Jasper’s wards,” Silas said. “He may only be a low-powered academic but his casting seems adequate. But if the ’geist couldn’t either, then it’s out here somewhere.”

  Darien got a little whiff of dislike for Jasper from Silas’s tone. He couldn’t figure out why. The sorcerer seemed both harmless and brilliant, but Silas had good instincts. He’d make a note to be wary of Jasper, for now. “Right. So how do we find it?”

  “Lure it. Same as the others in the hospital. Necromancer power pulls them in. I just need to flaunt it a bit. Look available.” Silas opened his door.

  “Hang on, we’re coming with you.” He scrambled out the other side and held the door for the familiars. The chill bit into him through his new coat. “Any chance we can do this inside somewhere?”

  Silas flashed a grin at him. “I wish. But unless we find an unlocked door, I think probably not.” Grim bounded off, heading for the vacuum repair store next to the bakery. The big tabby swung on the door handle to no effect, then dropped and dashed around the side of the building.

  Pip bounced at their heels. “Grim can check doors. What can I do?”

  Silas bent to the little dog. “You know how you can Fetch?”

  “Yes?”

  “A poltergeist does something like that. Moves things without touching them. Did you learn about them in school?”

  The dog’s furry forehead wrinkled. “I don’t think so. I didn’t get to Powers and Entities class.”

  “Well, keep an eye out for that. Something moving with no wind behind it. Let us know.”

  “I can. I’ll watch.” He bounced a little arc behind them, peering into the darkness. “Things moving… I’ll listen. That’s good too.”

  Grim came back to them from the opposite direction. “Found a shed. You won’t like it, but it’s out of sight and out of the chill.”

  “Well done.” Silas tugged his collar higher. “Lead on.”

  They followed the cat around the corner and down the alley behind the stores. Silas stumbled in the dark, and Darien grabbed his arm, glad to be useful. “Got you.”

  “Thanks.” Silas’s whisper sounded surprised. “Grim, slow down for those of us with mortal eyesight.”

  “You can risk a light, O wizard. There’s no humans about.”

  Darien held out his palm and called a bit of power, before Silas could. Might as well save all the power Silas had and anyway, it was good practice. The wisp of golden light nestled in his hand.

  “Nice,” Silas said, before following Grim over to a tall shed too shallow to be a garage, tucked up against the side of the bigger building next to the bakery. The door stood slightly ajar, and the high, sagging roof was lined with an impressive row of icicles. Darien walked carefully after Silas, keeping his light angled to glint off the patches of ice underfoot.

  “It’s dry enough for chalk inside,” Grim said. “A bit dusty, but we can make the puppy sit and wag his tail for a bit.”

  “Can I help?” Pip bounded after them. “What should I do?”

  Grim threw him a dark look and jerked his chin to one side. “It was a joke. Over there out of the way. Sit. Stay.”

  “All right.” Pip sat where he was told, ears drooping only slightly.

  Silas said, “And remember, you’re keeping an eye out for stuff moving, to protect us.”

  “Oh. Yes.” Pip’s head came up. “I’m listening too.”

  Silas pushed the door wider and checked out the jumble of broken crates and pots. Darien helped him shove some to the side, and they sacrificed Silas’s scarf to sweep a patch of floor clean. Then Darien went to stand outside the doorway opposite Pip, while Silas prepared his open circle.

  Darien watched Silas’s bare hands wield the chalk. He wrote swiftly, every movement practiced and assured. Darien had a flash of those hands moving on him, also practiced. He shivered with remembered pleasure. Although I have plans to mix things up. One day, I’m going to shake the certainty out of those long, strong fingers.

  Not right now, of course. He forced himself to try to decipher Silas’s runes, sideways and upside down. He only recognized a couple, from his barely-started studies, which perhaps wasn’t surprising. Odds were he’d never need to make a circle like that, since his power could no more handle the dead than Silas’s could affect the mundane.

  Silas finished his open-ended circle and stepped into it. “I’m going to lure the ’geist now. Keep an eye out.” He did something, and Darien’s vision of him went green-tinged, pulsing a little with Silas’s heart power. The come-and-get-it made Silas seem vulnerable. Waiting for something to slither out of the shadows grated on Darien’s nerves.

  A whisper of breeze down his neck made him glance around, but it was just a breeze, kicking up a swirl of dusted snow. Grim, on the other side of the doorway, scanned the darkness with narrowed green eyes. Even Pip sat in his place silently, looking around, his tail still for once. Little pup. Not the familiar I was expecting, but such a sweetheart, when I thought I’d get a demanding teacher like Grim. He couldn’t help a smile, looking at Pip.

  He was watching the dog when a chunk of something heavy and wet slid off the shed roof and hit him on the shoul
der. His feet went out from under him, his ass hit the ground and then he tipped backward. For an instant, his head rang with the impact and he stared up in bemusement. On the eave above him, a huge hunk of dagger-tipped ice cracked loose and fell.

  Silas’s shout rang as his heavy weight landed over Darien, crushing and smothering him, taking his breath. A thump of impact jolted Silas over him and Pip barked a shrill yelp.

  Jesus! Silas! Darien gasped futilely, the wind knocked out of him. Silas lay unmoving on his chest. He grabbed Silas’s sleeve and tugged frantically, his voice caught in his throat.

  “Silas!” Grim spoke for Darien. “Are you all right?”

  Hearing “I’m fine” as Silas shifted his weight made Darien weak with relief.

  He squirmed out from under as Silas rolled off the other way.

  “Barely clipped my shoulder,” Silas said, sitting up and rubbing himself.

  Pip said proudly, “I Fetched it.” The huge hunk of icicle mass lay cracked at the little dog’s feet, a dagger-point as long as Darien’s arm broken off.

  “Oh God.” If that had hit Silas’s head, or his neck, or point first into his back— “You almost died.” He grabbed Silas by the arms and shook him. “You idiot.”

  Silas laughed, high and a bit wild. “We’ll call names later. Right now—” He broke Darien’s hold, surged to his feet, and lashed out a whip of green power into the darkness. The whip coiled around something and pulled.

  Overhead another icicle cracked, fell but flew to Pip at his yelp of “Fetch!”

  “Oh no you don’t.” Silas threw out another coil, wrapping the unseen shape tighter. Darien stepped back tight under the overhang, out of falling ice’s way, as Silas began hauling in the thing he’d trapped. It came reluctantly, the tension and jerking on the coils visible. Darien had lost his light when he fell, and the green of Silas’s power gave the scene on odd, underwater cast. Darien fumbled for his power and relit it in his hand.

  As the thing came into the brighter light, Darien could make out a shadowy shape, an old-fashioned bowler hat, a pale bearded face. The ghost seemed small and thin, but it was squeezed tight by Silas’s grip.