‘Good,’ I said, without thinking.
He stood up and came around the desk, leaning against it in front of me. He smelled muskily of ‘man sweat’, not the BO I’d feared, and I made a mental note to tell Kaylinn, whose face I could see peering around the tapestry edge with an open mouthof lustful admiration. He did look abitlike Chris Hemsworth, when you got close up.
‘So, then, young spirit. You’re not here to follow the army and you’re not here to take one of my boys home. So why are you here?’ He was still amused, his mouth pleated into a half-smile that he was clearly trying to restrain.
‘Ah,’ I said. ‘That’s where it all gets a bit confusing.’
He didn’t believe me. That was obvious, so I must look totally solid to him. Short hair, trousers and boots, no wonder he thought I was impersonating a man.
‘Confusing, aye? Well, I think you’d better get back down to yon Jeannie and help her sort the provisions…’ He stretched out a hand to take my shoulder, presumably to turn me around and hurry me out of the room, and so his reaction when his hand went right through me was almost comical.
‘All the saints!’ He stepped back, hit the edge of the desk and stood staring. ‘But… but you’rethere…’ He moved his hand through me a few times. It was very disconcerting to watch. ‘You’re a ghostie?’
‘Not… exactly.’ I tried to keep my voice level so as not to panic him further.
‘A demon, then? Or it’s a trick? Down in London they have the players, they sometimes act the ghost and it all looks real.’
‘Yes, but they don’t have people actually putting their hands through them, do they?’
‘Well, no.’ He seemed to calm down a little bit. ‘Perhaps I’m tired. Yes. That’ll be it. It was a hard ride yesterday, and I’m dreaming. Jamie!’ he shouted suddenly. ‘Can you come in here a moment?’
The man we’d been calling the earl up to now came barrelling up the stairs. ‘Is all well with you?’ He walked straight through me and put a hand on the earl’s shoulder. ‘George? You look a little pale.’
Earl George cleared his throat a couple of times, straightened up and glared at me. I didn’t know why – it was hardlymyfault that nobody else could see me. ‘Jamie,’ he said. ‘There’s no one else in here, is there?’
Jamie looked around suspiciously. The others, having had warning by being run through, had tidied the tapestry. ‘No,’ he said slowly. ‘Why? Are you thinking we’ve spies in the castle?’
‘Not exactly,’ George said, subsiding to sit on the edge of the desk. ‘But would you go fetch Kenna for me?’
‘Kenna? The witch?’ Jamie stared at him.
‘She’s no witch, she’s a Wise Woman,’ George said evenly. ‘If anyone asks.’
‘Right. Right. And you want her? In here?’
‘Yes. Now, Jamie, if you will.’
Jamie, with another suspicious glance over his shoulder, left and George took a very deep breath.
‘Well, demon, spirit, whatever you are. What do you want, now?’
‘I want to prove that I am what I say I am and no dream,’ I said, as we’d rehearsed last night. Behind me, Mal and Lachlan crept into the room. ‘I can make things happen.’
‘I’ve no doubt you can.’ George sounded a bit shaky but he was holding up well, I had to admit.
‘No, you have to let me,’ I went on. I didn’t want to waste what we’d prepared.
‘Go on, then.’
‘Fire!’ I turned commandingly to the small fire that burned in the grate. ‘Come to me!’
From George’s perspective it looked as though one of the smouldering logs at the edge of the fire suddenly rose into the air and floated towards me. His eyes widened and he hurried to put the desk between himself and the levitating log. All I could hear was Mal, who was carrying the smoking branch, going, ‘Ow,ow, bloody hell, ow.’ The log shot back into the fireplace as he dropped it. ‘Ow!’
‘Window, open!’ I commanded and Lachlan dashed around to the back of the room to fling open the shutter that covered the window. The breeze instantly started sending papers flying all over the room.
‘Oops, sorry about that,’ apologised Lachlan, pointlessly, and closed it again.
George continued to stand, blinking at me. After a moment or two he shook his head. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘You’re definitelysomethingrare. But you’re no demon, that I’ll wager.’
