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None of us had to be talked into taking a break. I dropped to the ground and rummaged in my bag for a new Artemis cake and found one. I held it up in triumph as the others dug for their own.

I’d finished my little cake and was downing my canteen when I noticed movement in the tunnel. Jumping to my feet, I yanked my axe out.

The others did the same. We stood motionless for a moment and then Stheno whispered, “What?”

“I saw something,” I whispered back. “It looked like a silhouette of a man blocking the light for a moment.”

Bracken flicked his fingers and his lights raced down the tunnel, lighting it. A man, wearing a chest plate and carrying a sword and shield, appeared for a flash before the lights raced past him.

I jumped. It was like a horror film where a demon pops in and out of the background.

Coco leaned into me. “Why did you jump? There’s nothing in the tunnel.”

I pointed with my axe. “A warrior with a sword.” I paused. Coco’s eyesight was even better than my own. “You didn’t see anything?”

Coco shook her head.

“Neither did I,” Bracken said.

“Ghost,” Stheno murmured and I nodded.

“This is going to be like New Orleans again,” she said. “We’re not going to be able to help if a ghost attacks you.”

“Bracken, can you bring your lights back?” I asked. “I’ll tell you when to stop.”

He did and when they illuminated the angry guy with the weapons, I tapped his arm. Bracken’s fingers moved and the lights slowed on their return trip. Even though I was the only one who could see him, he only had eyes for Stheno.

“Uh, he seems super pissed off at you,” I told her.

Maybe twenty yards from us, he banged his sword against his shield and started running.

“Shit, shit, shit. Everybody move back. I don’t want to hit you.” I moved forward, intercepting him from going after Stheno. Granted, he probably wouldn’t have been able to hurt her, but I couldn’t just let him attack her. Or maybe I could. I wasn’t clear on how ghost battles worked.

When I stepped in front of Stheno, his gaze finally locked onto me. He held his shield up high, in front of his chest, and aimed his sword at mine. I thought about Clive and how he’d whisper, We need you in god-mode before a fight. Smiling, I tried to talk my brain into going supersonic.

When the soldier came close, I moved in instead of retreating, ducking low and swinging my axe at his midsection.

He fell on his ass with a look of shock on his face.

I wrapped my necromancer magic around him while he was down and distracted, squeezing. He grunted in pain but then shook it off, bolting up, his sword swinging for my head. He was fast, couldn’t die again, and had a sword that was longer than my axe, which made his reach better.

My only saving grace was that I was faster and willing to fight dirty. His movements felt practiced, like he was conducting this battle using specific rules of engagement, which perhaps he was. He certainly didn’t expect me to leap over his head and drag my claws across his face before dropping down and axing his legs, I’ll tell you that much.

He toppled for a moment, but again, he was already dead, so he reformed his ghostly body quickly, which was unsportsmanlike of him.

The only weakness I’d noticed was that his gaze frequently went to Stheno. Maybe I could use that.

“Stheno, this guy has a real hard-on for you,” I told her as the soldier and I circled one another.

“What does he look like?” she asked.

I dodged a strike, diving and somersaulting out of the way of his blade before popping up beside her. “Greek. Dark curly hair, brown eyes.”

“That narrows it down,” she said with an eye roll. “Is he wearing armor? A breast plate?”

I nodded, moving to the side, keeping him more than a sword length away from me while I plotted.

“Describe it,” she demanded.