Chapter 1
ELDRED HENSTARE RUBBED
his neck for the hundredth time since he’d left home. The strap of his messenger bag dug into his shoulder, and the salt and candles in it grew heavier and heavier with each step. A long time had passed since he’d jumped off the bus and started walking.
He didn’t know where he was going, or rather he knew precisely where he was going, could walk there with his eyes closed, but he didn’t know what the end destination was.
The wind whipped his face; raindrops bounced off his skin with enough force for him to suspect they were hail. He shivered under his too-thin jacket and cursed his stupidity of not donning rainwear. The ghost calling him wouldn’t care what he was wearing, and the risk of running into a living soul out there was minimal. To this day Prince Charming had never appeared when he’d been out chasing ghosts—one day he would, though. With Eldred’s luck, it would probably be the ghost of Prince Charming he’d have to guide into the light.
He sighed and shielded his face as he climbed a dune and was greeted by the white foam riding the crashing waves of the sea. A thread of moonlight managed to shine through the clouds, and he stopped to catch his breath for a second...or five.
Why was he never called out on a sunny morning? Why did it always have to be on cold nights? Granted, he had been sensing the call since yesterday; right before dawn it had become unbearable. If he hadn’t promised Lachtin to fill in for him at a bank meeting, he’d probably, maybe, have taken care of it during the day.
Looking over his shoulder towards the distant lights of the city, he weighed his options. There was nothing he’d rather do than go back home, take a hot shower, and crawl into bed. He could, maybe, pretend he couldn’t taste the rot on his tongue. He could, perhaps, ignore the prickling, chilling energy skidding over his skin. And with a little luck, he might be able to fool Mother into believing there wasn’t anything needing to be taken care of in the area. Mother...
Eldred rubbed his forehead. There was no way she wasn’t sensing something going on by now. Fucking witches
A new wave of energy washed over him, more intense than anything he’d experienced before, and he gritted his teeth around a hiss. He did not want to do this.
He touched his phone through his pocket, then double-checked that his other pocket was full of salt. The grains clung to the fabric and some of it trickled out when he slipped his fingers inside, but he didn’t care. Perhaps he should call Lachtin and tell him where he was.
Lachtin hated everything supernatural, but the intensity of what was out there had Eldred breaking out in sweat. Something wasn’t right with this spirit; it didn’t feel like they usually did.
Rubbing the salt off his fingers, he followed the energy call instead. Lachtin had been glaring at him all day so he probably already suspected Eldred was up to something.
An invisible rope yanked him forward over sand and slippery rocks, down on the beach and at one point into the water. Eldred stopped before he got knee deep. The spirit wasn’t trapped in the water, he didn’t know how he could be sure, but he was.
Could the spirit want me to go into the sea?No, ghosts weren’t sentient in that way. Most of them could talk, but they were trapped in their bubble of reality, they didn’t think about actions and consequences. It was probably that he was supposed to go to the other side of the bay and across the water was the shortest way. Unless it was a poltergeist. Eldred swallowed hard. He couldn’t take care of a poltergeist on his own.
No, it couldn’t be. Shrugging off the feeling of the ghost trying to control him, he continued alongside the shore until he came to a narrow path leading up across a barren meadow. Out on the headland, a dark lighthouse watched out over the waves.
Eldred hesitated. He did not want to go to the lighthouse. No lamps shone in the little cottage by the foot of the tower or in the lighthouse itself. An abandoned lighthouse...Sometimes it sucked being the guardian of the city, not only did the spirits seek him out at the most inconvenient of times, they also lured him into places he had no desire to go.
The wind tore at his hair; his wet clothes were glued to his body. A strip of moonlight fell on the grass-covered area around the little cottage; a few gravestones were facing the horizon.
Nope, I’ll deal with this in the morning.