by E. E. Holmes
I looked over at Hannah. She had her hands pressed to her head as though she were suffering from a terrible headache. Finn was shaking his head as if to clear it. Iggy stood just as he had before. I’d seen him flinch as the cloud had blocked out the sunlight, but now, as I tried to focus on him, he reached up a hand a scratched his nose; it was clear that Iggy wasn’t feeling anything strange, apart from perhaps the shift in temperature.
The new thing in the room—the fog or the cloud or whatever it was—settled around Campbell, wrapping itself around his head and shoulders, barely visible and yet irresistibly drawing my eye. Campbell opened his eyes and smiled at us with that same brilliant smile of his. Then he looked toward the place where Milo was sitting.
“Hello, Milo,” said Campbell warmly.
Milo’s jaw dropped. “Uh, hi?” The surprise in Milo’s voice was real; he didn’t need to fake anything.
“He’s here,” Campbell said, addressing Hannah and me. I tried to pull myself together and look normal; if Iggy couldn’t sense anything strange then we shouldn’t acknowledge the cloud-like being either, or we might blow our cover.
“Really?” I asked, trying to sound skeptical.
“Oh, yes,” He’s here beside Hannah,” Campbell said, gesturing to the space where Milo sat. Hannah had taken her hands down from her head, but her face was still twisted with discomfort.
“How do you know?” I asked. “Can you see him?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Campbell replied. He turned back to Milo and addressed him in a loud, clear voice. “Milo, I know you’re here, and that you’ve chosen to stay behind with your friends. They have sensed you, but they cannot talk with you the way that I can. I want to prove to them that you are indeed here. Can you tell me something you want your friends to know, perhaps something private or personal?”
We’d prepped Milo for this type of question. Milo threw a nervous glance at me, then spoke to Campbell in the same tone Campbell had just used with him. “Um, yeah, okay,” he began. “Tell them I don’t want to leave them, because you can’t just have two musketeers.”
Campbell made no indication that he’d heard Milo, but once Milo had finished speaking, Campbell inclined his head to the right, and the fog embracing him pulsed with energy and seemed to swirl and thicken. He listened for a moment, nodded, and then said, “He says he doesn’t want to leave you because there can’t only be two musketeers. Does that mean anything to you?”
Neither Hannah nor I had to feign our shock. We gaped, first at Campbell, and then at each other.
“Oh my God,” I cried. “We always called ourselves the three musketeers. Always.”
At my pronouncement, the cloud form dissipated; it unwound itself from Campbell’s body and lifted from the room. My vision cleared, as did the groggy feeling in my head. Hannah began blinking spastically, as if willing the last of her own headache away.
“I’m sorry, but Milo seems to have gone for the moment,” Campbell said.
Hannah and I both looked at Milo: He was still in his seat, wide-eyed. Lost for an explanation, he turned to me and shrugged his shoulders, clearly afraid to speak aloud again.
Now that the fog was gone, it seemed Campbell was incapable of sensing Milo anymore. “That must’ve been quite a shock for y’all. Are you alright?” Campbell asked, composing himself into a picture of absolute concern. He walked over to the tea cart, then returned with two glasses of water, which he handed to us. We each took a glass and chugged it, still reeling from whatever the hell had just happened.
“There’s no way you could’ve known that,” I said, sputtering a little on the last gulp of water. “There’s no way—unless he really was here. Unless he told you himself.”
Hannah chimed in quickly, determined to stick to our script. “He really is here, isn’t he? I was right!”
Campbell ran a hand through his thick graying hair and heaved a sigh. “Yes, you were right. For my own part, I am perfectly satisfied that you are indeed haunted, and that y’all would benefit greatly from some time here at Whispering Seraph. By working together, we could help your friend Milo find the peace he needs—and help the both of you move forward. I have every confidence we could make that happen. But what about you? You must surely have had your skepticisms before you arrived. Have I alleviated them for you?”
“Yes!” Hannah and I said at once. We still had plenty of skepticism, but now there was a whole new world of questions surrounding Jeremiah Campbell.
“Please, Mr. Campbell, can you—”
“Hannah, please, I must insist you call me Jeremiah. We have no use for formalities during such an intimate process.”
Hannah blushed. “Right. Well, Mr.… um, Jeremiah… can you please let us stay? You’re the only person who can help us. I don’t know what we’ll do if you say no!”
Campbell spread his arms in a wide, welcoming gesture. “Of course, it’s essential that you stay. However,” and he dropped his arms and walked over to his desk, “there is the rather indelicate matter of finances to discuss.” He pulled out a light blue file from his desk drawer. “I want to be quite clear that I do not provide these services for my own financial gain.”
It took every fiber of my being not to roll my eyes as Campbell looked sternly from one of us to the other, as if trying to drive home his point. “This blessing I’ve been given is meant to be shared, to help others. But in order for me to do that, I need to continue the upkeep and running of Whispering Seraph. I must pay my staff for their good work. I must continue my vital renovations to the house, which ensure my guests’ privacy while I’m helping them find the peace they need.”
“Yes, we understand all of that,” I said, jumping in before Campbell’s head exploded from his own self-martyrdom. “This place is incredible. It’s one of the reasons we decided to come and see you. You’ve been in touch with our mother, right?”
“We have spoken, yes,” Campbell said. “A charming woman.”
I scoffed silently. Catriona was anything but charming in my mind, but I had the feeling she was an unparalleled actress when she needed to be.
“She wants us to get past this. It’s been… disruptive for the whole family. Money is not a concern,” I said, waving a hand airily. “If you’re willing to let us stay, our mother’s business manager will wire the first payment right away. Just have your staff send her your information.”
Campbell smiled again, more brightly than ever. “Well, then. I guess that settles things. Isn’t it just lovely when these things work out?”
We nodded, returning his smile.
“Very well, then. Maya will be pleased to settle all the additional details.” With this, Campbell walked over to us; we both stood up nervously. He placed a hand on each of our shoulders. I felt not an inkling of spirit connectivity buzzing within him. “I want to assure you both, there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore. You are in the right place to find the answers you seek.” His tone, as ever, was smooth and reassuring. If we’d been actually grieving, if we were actually in mourning and perhaps scared out of our wits, his reassurance would’ve been worth every cent in our bank account.
I tried to smile, but I just couldn’t. I wanted him to leave; I was itching for all of us to discuss what the hell had just happened.
“Thank you,” Hannah said breathlessly.
Campbell gave each of our shoulders a squeeze, and then backed himself—with one last gracious bow—through the door he had entered from. As he shut the door behind him, everyone seemed to deflate, heaving out deep sighs. Without knowing it, we’d all been holding our collective breath, so to speak, since Campbell had come into the room.
Hannah stumbled back and collapsed into her chair. Iggy was patting absently at his pockets, feeling for a cigarette he knew he couldn’t indulge in yet. Finn was shaking his head like he had water in his ear. And I… I didn’t know what to do with myself at all.
“What the actual—” Milo began, but was cut off by the prompt appearanc
e of Maya, the same woman who had shown us into the room to begin with. She came bearing two clipboards full of paperwork and a broad, white-toothed smile. I wondered if Campbell screened his job applicants based on the sheen of their tooth enamel.
“Glad to hear y’all will be staying with us,” Maya said warmly. “Just a few details, and then we can get you settled in, nice and cozy. Will you need to have your things brought over?”
“We’ll send Iggy for them,” I said. “Everything we need is at the hotel.”
“Perfect!” she declared brightly. “There are some forms to fill out, as well as some privacy agreements to sign. Please look everything over carefully and let me know if you have any questions. If you’d like to have a lawyer look at anything, we have one on staff—or we could fax the paperwork over to yours. Also, Jeremiah likes to assure all guests that we have ample security on the grounds. We do not generally allow for additional personal security—”
Finn started forward, looking alarmed, but I gave him a sharp look and he stopped short in the middle of the room.
“My parents never would’ve let us come down if they thought our detail wouldn’t be allowed,” I said, adopting a slightly-entitled tone. “I really can’t imagine their agreeing to our stay if we can’t have our own security. Isn’t there anything you can do?”
“Well, I’m sure we can work something out,” said Maya with another ingratiating smile. “We have made exceptions in the past, under very special circumstances.” We all understood that “working something out” would simply mean more money; “special circumstances” meant “mind-bogglingly rich.”
“Good,” Hannah said quietly. “This is one of those circumstances.” She was catching on to this VIP thing.
Maya turned to Finn and Iggy. “Gentlemen, there will be protocol to follow, as I am sure you will understand. A full list of prohibited practices and devices can be found here.” She handed a folder to Finn, who took it without comment. “Just ring the bell when you’ve finished, and we’ll get you settled into your suite.” She pointed to a small silver buzzer that I hadn’t noticed before. Then she backed out of the room again, without ever once letting that perfect smile slip from her face.
“No, but seriously, what the hell—” I began.
“Not here,” Finn said curtly. “The car. Now.”
§
“Well, I guess we can all agree there is something very strange going on with Campbell,” I said, as soon as the car door had slammed shut behind us. We’d had Iggy stay outside the car, stationed as if he were guarding us. If any of Campbell’s staff questioned our sudden retreat to the sedan, we’d just have to pass it off as a quirk of the super wealthy. Surely, the mega-rich did far stranger things on a daily basis.
“You can say that again,” Hannah said. “Could everyone see what happened to him when he connected with Milo?”
“Yeah,” I said, nodding and shivering simultaneously. “What the hell was that cloud thing?”
“I have no idea, but I’ve never seen anything quite like it before,” Finn declared.
Hannah shuddered, as though thinking of the cloud-being repulsed her. “I guess that… that… thing is what he calls his angel. How would you describe it? It was some sort of…”
“Creepy fog?” I offered.
“Energy cloud?” Milo suggested.
“I guess so,” Hannah said. “That was all I could see. It definitely had an energy of its own. I could feel it when it entered the room, but… I’ve never felt anything quite like it in my life. It wasn’t a spirit—or if it was, there was something very wrong with it.”
“And once it came into the room, Campbell said he could see Milo,” Finn said.
“Actually, I don’t think he could,” said Milo.
We all turned to Milo. “What do you mean?” asked Hannah. “He knew right where you were. He looked right at you.”
“Not exactly,” Milo said. “He looked in my direction, but he wasn’t looking in exactly the right place. He was staring at a spot maybe a foot to the right. He knew my general location, but I don’t think he could actually see me.”
Hannah frowned. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Milo said. “I think that fog-cloud thing told him where I was, and he… just looked where it told him to look.”
We all digested this for a moment. As I processed, I realized something else about the experience that now made a little more sense.
“He couldn’t really hear you either, I don’t think,” I said. “There was a delay between when you spoke and when he registered what you said. Maybe that fog-creature was the one who could hear you, and relayed your answers to Campbell?”
Milo nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that would explain it. He never acknowledged me before that thing came into the room.”
Finn ran a hand through his hair, as he always did when he was contemplating something; he mussed up his specially groomed ponytail in the process. “Okay, so it isn’t really Campbell who senses the spirits? It’s this… other thing?”
“I think so,” I said. “Based on what we saw, that would make sense.”
“Based on what we saw, nothing makes sense!” Finn cried. “Are we sure that thing isn’t a spirit? We could all see it, even though Iggy couldn’t—which holds true for other spirits.”
“No, I don’t think it could be a spirit,” Hannah said slowly, chewing on a lock of her hair. “That wasn’t what I felt… it wasn’t a true spirit. This was different. I felt like I’d been… drugged, or something. I could hardly see straight, my head was pounding. I thought I was going to pass out, I was so dizzy! Did anyone else feel it?”
“I did,” I said. “No headache, but definitely the dizziness… and my vision was blurred, too.”
“Me as well,” Finn said. “Perhaps it was an Empathic experience? They can be properly intense, from what I understand.”
“No,” Hannah said, shaking her head. “I’ve had plenty of those—they’re emotionally based. Even if they affect you physically, the primary sensation is the emotion itself. I had no emotional connection to whatever that thing was. None at all.”
Our friend Mackie, who’d been one of the very few to befriend us at Fairhaven, was an Empath—a Durupinen who experienced spirits through an especially intense emotional connection. Mackie had been reduced to shuddering and tears after many a Crossing, and the pain she’d sensed the night we Uncaged the Silent Child had left her writhing uncontrollably in agony. We’d seen firsthand the intensity of an Empath’s connection.
“Okay, so if it wasn’t a spirit, then what was it?” Finn asked, throwing his hands impatiently up in the air.
We all sat silently in contemplation. We all knew there were beings out there who were… other than human or spirit. The Wraiths, for instance. Elementals, too. And the Necromancers had taught us that spirits could—through dark Castings—be dismantled and reassembled into truly perverted beings that weren’t exactly spirits anymore. Even I, when Walking, could be counted among these other beings—Walkers were neither merely human nor merely spirit, after all. But beyond these… what else was there?
“We are way out of bounds here. We have no experience with this,” said Finn. “If we don’t know what that thing is, how can we so much as begin to deal with it?”
“We need to get a message to Catriona,” I said. “She’ll know what to do.”
“You think she’s had experience with whatever this thing is?” Hannah asked.
“If not, she’ll know where to find the answers,” I replied.
“Well, she won’t be hearing anything from me,” Finn grumbled. He had flipped open the folder Maya had given him and was scanning the private-security policies. “No walkie-talkies, no Bluetooth, no mobiles, no laptops or tablets—this is mad, we can’t agree to this!” He was practically shouting now. “How are we supposed to protect you if Iggy and I can’t communicate with each other, let alone with the outside world? And there will be no way for us to report back to Catriona!”
“I think we can rule out smoke and mirrors at this point,” I reasoned. “For one thing, how could he create something that only the Sensitives in the room could see? If it were a trick he’d created, Iggy would’ve reacted to it, too. I mean, I know he saw the sunlight dim, but he didn’t react to anything else. No, something more bizarre than parlor tricks is going on here. But if we want to stay and get to the bottom of it, we’re going to have to follow Campbell’s rules.”
Finn shook the folder in my face. “How are we supposed to agree to these?”
“Well…” I began, already knowing I would regret making this suggestion, “you and Iggy don’t have to stay.”
Milo groaned. “Here we go. Let the drama begin,” he muttered.
“Pardon?” Finn growled. “What do you mean, we don’t have to stay?”
“Well, just consider it,” I said. “There are armed guards and security cameras all over the place. The whole property is gated and walled. We’ll be perfectly safe here. We could do the investigating then relay the information to you. You’d be free to communicate as much as you need to with Catriona and the other Trackers—and you’d also be able to do more research on your own, without all the restrictions.”
“Ignoring for a moment that this is the worst idea you’ve ever had, just how are you going to communicate with us?” asked Finn. “You have the same restrictions on technology as we do, except for mobiles—and we all know how spotty those can be. There can’t be only one channel through which I can reach you.”
I pointed to Milo. “We’ve got a built-in communication system. We can send Milo with any information you need to have.”
“Whoa, whoa, when did I become the messenger boy?” Milo asked indignantly.