Page 61 of Dead Vengeance

“Helena, it’s just… very complicated.”

“But why?” She’s whispering now, leaning in close, like we’re having tea and mine is the most delicious of all. She loves a scandal. Loves a romance. And I’ve got both in spades.

I can tell she’s not going to let up, so I shuffle across the hall into the bedroom opposite, lowering my voice while she hovers on the other side of the warding. “Liam is just a sweet guy who’s going through a bit of a rough time. He… It seems like he might have lost his brother a little while back. From what I can gather, it’s something he’s still mourning. And I don’t want to upset him with a bunch of depressing ghost talk about spirits crossing over, and people who never rest, and all the trauma and vengeance that keep people wanting to come back. I just want to give him a basic, positive overview of ghosts and spirits to keep him… safe. Informed. Should he meet more in the future.”

Her eyelids close into two thin and judgemental slits. “You’re just filling him in on basic spirit information?”

I nod. “That’s right.”

She squints harder at me. “But you don’t want him to know anything about real spirit information?”

With a shrug, “I mean. Yeah. That’s pretty much it. I want him to be… happy.”

“Doesn’t seem very fair.”

“How is that not fair?”

“Because if he’s mourning, shouldn’t he know he can come and see his brother any time? Shouldn’t he know that you can call his brother up right now if he’d like to talk?”

“No, it’s…” I scan the door opposite, ready for the handle to turn, or for the shadow of Liam listening to peek underneath. I see neither, so I give in to the urge to both satisfy her curiosity and lift a bit of the weight of what’s been hanging around my shoulders since last night. “I don’t think Liam knows his brother is dead.”

“What?” she positively yells.

“Shhhh!”

“Oh right. Sorry.” Comically low, “What?”

On a deep frown, I explain, “I’m not sure he’s dead either. If I were, I’d tell Liam, of course. Call him up, if he wanted. But something happened last night. Something very strange. There were some ghosts over at the hospital. And Liam saw them just as clearly as I did. And that shouldn’t be possible.”

Her red lips part, keeping a very round shape for a good three seconds. “Do you think…” She does an excited little bounce. “Is he like you?”

“No! No, not from what I can tell. I haven’t seen any signs to suggest it. Yesterday was his first ever ghost sighting, apparently.”

“Oh. What a shame.”

“I know. But the thing is, he did see his brother among some other ghosts. So while it’s possible he’s dead and not at rest, it feels like there’s something more complicated going on. More likely, it was a mass hallucination, ‘mass’ meaning just the two of us, but still…” I check the door once again before revealing, “I am planning to try to call him up when Liam’s not around, but I might have to go there, where he is, because maybe he’s trapped there, like hospital ghosts usually are. But don’t you think, if he’d died in the hospital, they would have told the family? Identified him and passed the news on? But all Liam knows is his brother is a missing person.”

“That is odd,” Helena agrees.

“It’s very odd!” And since I’ve started, I may as well carry on. “Meanwhile, you’re here from a bridge I didn’t provide for you, and that’s another thing that shouldn’t be possible. And did I mention the thing in the attic? There’s a thing in my attic. A bad thing. And I think these occurrences might all be connected somehow. The bridge, Liam’s brother at the hospital, the thing in my attic…”

I’m on a roll now, so I don’t stop, spilling the last bit of my guts out for her to dissect. “And I actually think I’ve fucked up, and made a mistake, and caused this really big, really huge problem myself. A possibly catastrophic one. I’m worried that all these things, all these happenings, might be because I’m a necromancer. Because how can this not all be connected to me when it’s all happening here in my house and around me? So, to be frank, everything is fairly and increasingly fucked right now, if I’m honest.”

Okay, that felt good. Kind of. Someone knows. I told someone. That’s progress.

“Oh, Archer.” Helena tsks her tongue sympathetically. “These things happen. Don’t be too hard on yourself.” She purses her lips and stares into the middle distance, considering my ramblings that would seem insane to anyone else. But she’s a ghost, after all, so it’s not long until she says, “I don’t see how this can be your fault. You’re certainly the loveliest necromancer I’ve ever met.”

I chuckle over her compliment. “Aren’t I the only necromancer you’ve ever met?”

“Well, yes, but that doesn’t change the fact,” she agrees fondly. Then she switches the conversation up by asking, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

I love this woman. Honestly, she’s one of my favourite ever clients. Especially right now. “I think you could, actually.”

She nods eagerly in response.

“I want to know… You say you saw the bridge. The same one I made for you. But I didn’t make this one. Can you tell me…” I let out a sigh at the hopelessness of even asking the question, because she clearly thought I’d made it so how can she answer questions about why it’s there?

“I wasn’t the only one on it,” she provides. She’s incredibly smart, and she’s already put her finger right on the issue. “It wasn’t specific to me, like when you called me. There was a boy a little way ahead.”