The words issued from deep within a dark hood. She stared at the person in front of her, jaw slack. The figure (male/female/other/did it matter?) stood at the entrance to the graveyard, faintly glowing. And transparent. Sapph could see the shiny gate through the robes.
“Thank you?” she said after a moment, her manners kicking in. “Who are you?”
“Does it matter?” The figure lifted one shoulder.
“It does to me,” Sapph said. “Why are you here?”
Quiet laughter issued from the shade. “Where else would we be? There’s nothing left for us anywhere else.”
The Ghostwind, which had been a faint breeze, strengthened, pulling at Sapph’s hat and ripping the specter into shreds that melted away into the mist, and then it dropped again into the background again.
Well, that was illuminating. Sapph blinked. The gleaming gate swung lazily on well-oiled hinges, as if it were inviting her to explore more. What did you make of that?
I think this place will be very, very interesting on many levels, Scottie said. Why don’t you come back now? Let’s see what else we can see.
She nodded, and closed her eyes again. Flipping her switch to come back meant the warmth of the mortal plane wrapped her in welcoming arms, pushing the cold away. She opened her eyes and nearly fell into Gwen, who had moved closer while she’d been in the Ghostlands.
“Easy!” the redhead said, grabbing Sapph’s arm to keep her upright. “My god, you’re freezing!”
“It’s cold in the Ghostlands,” Sapph said, as she straightened up.
“I guess. Did you know that the air pops around you when you leave?” Gwen let her hands drop to her side. “And when you come back?”
Sapph nodded as Scottie handed Bear to her and then dug in his bag. He came out with a small package that he unsnapped, revealing a strangely woven fabric square. He pulled it out and shook it out with a sharp snap, activating the heating beads through it before he wrapped it around her. Malcolm had sent the warming blankets to her with his experiments - apparently one of his students had created it. It felt heavenly.
“It’s something to do with taking the energy to move back and forth through the Veil,” she said. “Malcolm has theories, but most of them are above my head.”
Scottie then peered closely at her, obviously checking to make sure she was okay.
“I wasn’t gone long,” she told him. “I’m good, once I warm up.”
Knox and Pat were staring at her. She stuck her tongue out at them.
“You really are a ghost walker,” Pat said. “Like, they really exist.” He turned to Lance, who was trying to look bored and failing. “You really weren’t kidding.”
“Nope,” Lance said. “She’s really a ghost walker.”
<><>
Something rippled through him, moving the protective webs of centuries that he’d woven around himself, plucking at the edge of his awareness. He stirred, not willing to leave the dreams yet, but for the first time in a long time, he became aware of the world he’d abandoned long ago.
No, he didn’t need to know that. It wasn’t real. He retreated back into the corners of his mind, banishing the thrumming as if it had only been a hallucination, a product of his own damaged mind. Just like the others.
<><>
The rest of the night was spent in setting up cameras and digital recorders in the areas that the clients had told them were the hot spots. Lance, Pat, and Knox had made plans at dinner and Sapph was surprised to see how quickly they fell into working together. It was as if they were picking up from a brief hiatus of working together, rather than working together for the first time. While they were doing that, Sapph, Scottie, and Gwen went towards the crumbling foundations of what had once been cottages.
Gwen squinted at the piles of stone, moss, and weeds through the harsh beam of her flashlight. “This looks like an accident waiting to happen,” she said, swinging the beam back and forth. “I’m going to suggest that we not try and go in there tonight.”
“Seconded,” Scottie said.
“And thirded,” Sapph agreed, turning slowly around in place as she took in the scene. There had once been six cottages, apparently. That was how many piles she could see in the gloom. “I wonder what it looks like in the Ghostlands.”
“It’s layered,” Scottie said. “There’s more than one time peeking through; at least, that’s what it seems like to me.”
“Intriguing,” Sapph said. “I wonder if it will shift on me while I’m in there.”
“What could that do to you?” Gwen asked. “I mean, can’t you just revert back if you need to?”
“Usually, yes.” Sapph couldn’t quite keep herself from shivering. “But there was one time where the ghost who haunted the house...trapped me.” She frowned, trying to find the right words. “The Ghostlands aren’t static - they can be manipulated by the spirits there. This ghost managed to keep me from switching back somehow. I’m still not sure how, and I don’t really want to find out.”
“Makes sense to me.” Gwen played her light around again. “Does it have to be dark?”
“Huh?” Sapph said.
“For you to switch to the Ghostlands. Does it only work at night?”
“Oh, no.” Sapph shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Besides, it’s always twilight in the Ghostlands.”
“Interesting.” But Gwen’s attention had been captured by something. Bear whined a bit in his throat, looking into the darkness beyond the pool of light from the flashlights. “Do you see that?”
Sapph looked in the indicated direction. “What is that?”
“If we were looking through a night vision camera, I’d say it was an orb,” Gwen said. “But we don’t have the cameras.”
“And that’s quite a big ball of light,” Scottie said.
It was - a ball about the size of a volleyball, pulsing blue and green as it wandered along what might have once been a path between the cottages. It was moving away from them, deeper into the darkness.
“Do we follow it?” she asked, as it receded.
“No.” Scottie’s voice was firm. “We have no idea what it is, or what the ground is like. Let’s not break our necks.”
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