Page 53 of How I Met Your Murderer

“Places like that, they’re magnets for certain kinds of spirits, especially the power-mad,” she went on. “Think of any castle: the battles fought, the blood spilled. The centuries of grief and struggles for control. The rituals cast by druids and priests of old. All that energy sinks into the ground, the stone. It festers, and it calls to the things that would feed on it—like an elemental. They’re beings that have never walked the earth in the flesh, are built of pure energy from somewhere else, so they don’t think like we do. Don’t feel like we do. They don’t respond to emotion or reason. They simply . . . are. At their most powerful, they have a frightful command over the natural world. And they tend to stay where they find a strong source of energy—where there’s plenty of energy to feed on.”

I found myself wishing I’d worn my jacket here as she finished: “And if one has taken up residence in Ardruin . . . it’s likely been there for a very long time. It’s gotten comfortable. It might even outlast the castle at this point, if someone were to tear it all down.”

“Grand. Brilliant. Exactly what I wanted to hear.” My pulse hammered in my ears as I clocked Niamh’s frown and realized I was being rude. “Tá brón orm,” I quickly apologized. “I’m not cross with you, at all, it’s—fecking ExorSquad. Feels like they set me up to fail, not that I can understand why. I didn’t think old Gerald wanted me dead.”

But there had been enough suspicious deaths of ExorSquad employees for the police to get called in, as I’d overheard last time I came to Niamh’s shop. I pushed it to the back of my mind, along with everything else I couldn’t stand to think about while I was trying to solve this impossible problem, because I wasn’t leaving. Not without making things right for Eric. Not without trying to protect the Dolans and all their unsuspecting guests from what I was increasingly sure was a level five entity.

Maybe ExorSquad didn’t care, but I did.

“ExorSquad seems to be discovering there are some terrible side-effects of negligence, at the very least,” Niamh said thoughtfully, tucking a curl behind her ear. Her gaze shifted from the tea lights to me again, and held. “But you’re not just here about an elemental, or whatever killed some forest creatures. Are you?”

I looked down at my hands, unable to stay at the center of that piercing gaze for long. “No. It’s . . . Eric. I want to move him on peacefully before Gary can mess with him.”

“Gary?” She sounded bewildered.

“Great Awful Ruinous Yoke—that’s what I’m calling the elemental, or whatever this thing is,” I explained. It was much easier than talking about Eric, though he was the real reason I was here. “Anyway, I want to help Eric move on quickly, because he deserves peace. Because he’s stuck so far from home. And because—” I stumbled to a halt, my throat too tight to continue.

Because I was half in love with him already.

Because my feelings for him made no sense, and yet they rang truer than anything I’d ever experienced. They were as right as the hard leather of the sliotar clutched in my victorious fist, as right as the rain that kept the hills as lush as emerald all year long, as right as seeing my mam’s face light up when I found her the perfect birthday gift.

The thought of Eric being torn apart or swallowed by that thing in the castle—by fecking Gary—made my chest ache like it was bruised.

Niamh waited kindly while I tried again.

“Because he’s been alone for so long,” I managed, though my voice was mangled, “and he shouldn’t be. No one deserves that, but especially not him. I don’t want him getting hurt by another spirit, or spending all his time in a dungeon, or—”

My voice cracked, and I had to stop again.

Niamh’s expression softened, and she reached out as if she meant to put a hand on my arm, but stopped with her fingers resting near mine on the table. “Oh, Raff.”

“It’s just . . . I care about him. More than I should, and more than makes sense—I know how it must sound, but it’s true. He’s—” I paused, swallowing. “He’s important to me. And I know he’s dead,” I went on, something broken loose in me, the words tumbling out clumsy and honest. “I know that. But when I’m with him, it doesn’t feel like he’s already gone. It feels like he’s still himself. Like he’s more than a memory, or a shadow. And I don’t want to lose that—don’t want to lose him.”

I blinked against a sudden burning in my eyes as the candle flames became smudges against the dark grain of the wood.

The rest of what I couldn’t say tapped against my ribs: I’ve never felt this way about another soul. Didn’t think I ever would. Don’t know if I will again.

And I didn’t know how to stop it.

I didn’t even really want to.

Niamh’s fingers finally found my hand. “There’s no shame in caring for someone, Raff. Living or dead. You’ll never convince me otherwise.”

Steadier now, I exhaled, shaky. “I just want to help him. Properly. Not with ExorSquad’s shite methods that can blow a hole in a spirit and not really move them on, anyway. I want to help him move on gently. In a way that won’t hurt him.”

She nodded slowly, her hand withdrawing. “All right. I have something in mind. But it’ll only work if the bond between you is real. There’s a method—old, and simple, but powerful. Together, you and Eric need to make a list of everything he wanted to do in life. All those hopes and goals he never got the chance to fulfill. Every regret, every wish. Every small thing left undone. If you help him complete it, his remaining soul contracts and tethers to this world will be severed, and he’ll be free to go—no matter what’s been tying him to Ardruin.”

“A list,” I repeated skeptically, because it really did sound too simple.

Niamh nodded. “I expect it’ll take you a few weeks at the least, but this is the perfect time of year for it. When the veil is thinnest, spirits are able to step between worlds more easily. And on Halloween night, if the list is complete, he’ll just slip away. His path will be clear to him.”

“Halloween is when I need to leave anyway. It’s when this job ends.”

She gave me a small, encouraging smile. “Then you’d best get started.”

My heartbeat quickened as I considered what she’d given me. Something real, something I could do to help him. Something that meant spending more time with him, and giving him everything he’d missed. And then, when it was done . . . letting him go. It would break me, but it would save him, and that made it worth it.

“Thank you,” I said in a hurry, before my throat could tighten up on me again. “I just have one more question—the veil thinning. What did you mean by that, exactly?”