Page 111 of Specters & Spotlights

Made it in. No specter. Kevin’s back.

Graham’s here. I’m okay.

She stared at the last two words for a second. They didn’t feel true. But they were true enough for now.

The reply came almost instantly.

Cici

YOU WENT IN ALREADY???

Elise!! That could have gone badly.

I love you but you’re a danger goblin. I’m glad you’re okay.

Never do that again.

Thank god Kevin’s back.

And no sign of him? Really??

Elise smiled in spite of herself. She could hear Cici’s voice in every word—equal parts panic, sarcasm, and love.

Another message popped up.

I’m really close with the banishment spell. Almost there. I’ll call you in a bit once I finish the last bit.

DO.

NOT.

provoke anything.

Elise’s fingers hovered over the screen for a second before she responded.

I won’t. Promise.

She locked the screen and looked up. Kevin was still inspecting the hallway like it might try something. Graham met her eyes, one brow slightly raised in question.

“Cici’s on it,” she said softly. “She’s almost done with the spell.”

Kevin nodded, then gave a theatrical sigh. “About time someone besides me did the hard work around here.”

They moved like ghosts themselves—quiet, purposeful, threading through the wings that wrapped behind the stage like a hidden artery.

The walls had been painted matte black, presumably to vanish in the dark, but Kevin clicked his tongue. “This is not a good black. Flat, uneven, badly scuffed. I’ve seen better finishes in middle school theatres.”

At least he was still Kevin, ever the critic.

Above them, the rigging creaked faintly—metal bones shifting in some unseen wind. A single ghost light stood centerstage: a bare bulb on a battered stand, casting a lonely golden circle on the otherwise empty boards. Its glow barely reached the wings, but Elise felt its presence like a heartbeat. Watching. Waiting. Holding the dark at bay.

As they moved through the wings, the stairs revealed themselves without fanfare—just a cool draft, a metallic smell, and descending steps that seemed older than the theatre itself.

“This one’s subterranean,” Elise murmured, already gripping the handrail.

Graham raised an eyebrow. “That’s… ominous.”

“It’s not that weird,” Elise said.