Above the Vaulted Sky - Page 178

                I clutch my stomach. The awful, hollow, sick feeling grips me and takes over my thought processes. I cast around for something to eat. There is nothing. Just terracotta coloured sand dunes in all directions. I stand at the precipice of one. Far away I see the setting sun and the sky turn an orchestra of oranges reds and pinks fading to indigo and black high above me.

                If I feel hunger then I’ll feel the cold of night in the desert. I make for the dead tree, wondering how it got here. I marvel at the idea that it ever grew here at all. I slide down the slope and I’m reminded of the beach Teague took us to. How long ago was that? An hour? How can so much happen in an hour.

                Is this hell?

                The thought claws at the edges of my mind. I push it back, refuse to give it centre stage. I can’t have gone to hell. I’m a man of science. Everything I’ve seen so far has been explained by cold, hard fact so that must mean that there is an explanation for this place.

                I run through a list of deserts in my head and try to place myself. The Sahara? The Gobi? Death Valley? Something makes me think that this is none of those places. The feeling I have and my manner of arrival set a seed of dread deep in my stomach, buried to fester and grow beneath the layers of hunger.

                I reach the bottom and stand in the narrow shade of the tree. It feels real to my touch. Rough, dry and dead. Bits of bark crumble away.

                I can’t stay here. I close my eyes and concentrate.

                Nothing happens. I strain to picture Yates’s house. The smell of the hay, the rolling fields behind it. The old house covered in books.

                I open them again and shift my feet in the sand. What’s happened?

                I close my eyes again and reach out. I try to sense the world around me the same way I’ve done a thousand times. The Edge doesn’t appear. All I see is the blackness of the back of my eyelids and the image of the sun left on my retinas.               

                Hello! I think. Shouting in my own head. Elle! Yates?

                There’s no reply.

                Turning on the spot, stranded in the middle of this endless sea of sand I come to a horrible realisation. I think I’m alive.

Above the Vaulted Sky - Page 177

Chapter Twenty-Six

I open my heavy eyelids. My vision is unfocussed to the point that all I can see is a collection of dots swooping overhead. It’s as if I’m watching a dance through a pane of translucent glass.

I raise my hand; it feels dirty, gritty, as if it had been lying in sand for days on end. My lips are to the ground, with sand between my teeth. My tongue feels useless in my mouth, as parched as a wrinkled old piece of paper.

The sun beats down on me, its orange rays shimmer in the sunset still scalding hot.

I keep on expecting my memory to return. That’s what usually happens isn’t it? The flood of recollection after sleep - the end to that blissful honeymoon period when all is right in the world.

My head pounds as I try to sit up, so I lie back down again on the sand that I’m sure is cooking my areas of exposed flesh. Slowly my vision returns. I gaze around slowly. The dots, still circling overhead, are vultures waiting for me to die of starvation and despair. This feels like the time I died.

Everything rushes back to me. It’s like being in the crash all over again. I raise my hands to my temples and struggle to handle the onrush of information. Elle, Yates, Teague, Thacker. The Council. Everything that has happened to me in my year of death. And now I find myself here of all places. Where has the old woman sent me?

This truly is a hellish place.

Very tentatively, I sit up. I cry out as it feels like my head is splitting in half. My bones ache as if they have been taken apart, individually beaten to a pulp, and then rammed back together by someone with no perception of pain or mercy.

The landscape is barren, flat in all directions, punctuated by the scorched carcass of a dead tree that had long forgotten the feeling of life.

I feel a groaning, aching hunger in my stomach like I haven’t eaten for days. I haven’t eaten for days. I don’t need to, I’m dead. The only times we eat are the times when we feel like indulging ourselves, one of the benefits of death. Food without consequence. Now I feel the pain of a hundred starved days.

Box Set - Chapter Twenty-Five

                The manor is daunting and large and rises like a mountain from the earth before us. Its roof is dark and the windows sit broken in their panes. If I were to picture the image of a haunted house then this would be near the top of my list.

                'Lovely place you got here, Teague,' Elle observes. 'Should we start calling you the Count?'

                'If that would please you,' he rebuffs.

                'Why is it that ghosts tend to congregate in buildings left for the spiders?' I ask.

                'For the precise reason that humans are scared of the dark and creeping. All that is uncanny in the world. Here you have a house before you that was once great. A place of regency and honour now turned to decay. When we found it, chairs were upturned, pianos left open like their players were abducted mid song. The presence of history stopped in time keeps people away.'

                'Yeah but have you ever heard of house pride?' Elle nudges Yates and the two snort.

                'Let's go inside,' Teague says. 'And be reminded that history led us to this moment.'

                He starts down a grassy slope. The high pointed grey mountains behind the woods at the back of the manor make me think that we're in America somewhere. An American belle's Rocky Mountain retreat.
                'This is looking very Montana like to me,' Elle says.

                'How do you know from a look?'

                'I've done a lot of air miles, Easton. I know the shape of the world, the lie of the land. Plus I used to watch a lot of TV. Daytime TV bad guys love this kind of place.'

                'I take that as an insult,' Teague calls over his shoulder. 'I'm much more primetime.'

                Elle purses her lips and raises her eyebrows in approval. 'Okay, point one for Teague. He's growing on me.'

                'Yeah, like a fungus,' Yates says and they laugh again.

                The front door of the manor swings open to Teague's touch. I wonder why he doesn't just walk through it. Maybe for the pleasure of living. The power he still has over the real world.

                'We move around a lot,' he says. 'So we never bother making a place look like home.'

                The thought of Teague having a home confuses me for a second. That this megalomaniac scientist could have ever been a child, happily running around on a beach. To me he seems the eternal madman.

                'Honey, I'm home!' he calls.

                His voice rings out and bounces off the empty walls covered in dust.

                Two wide staircases curl upwards on either side of the hall. The floor is black and white like a chessboard and chandeliers hang from the ceiling. They're covered in so much spider's web that it's unclear where the web ends and crystal begins.
 'Really, Teague?' comes the now familiar voice.

                Robin Thacker appears at the top of the staircase. She walks down the stairs like a queen, one hand on the bannister. She's changed clothes. A benefit of the living. I'm guessing she has some device or another on her person that lets her see us. She locks eyes with me in particular as she reaches the bottom step.

                'I thought it might be appropriate?' Teague ventures. 'The man bringing spoils home to the lady in the manor.'

                'You know I don't like that sort of language,' Thacker replies. Her voice has changed. Once light and grandma-like. Now there is authority. 'Lady, woman and gentleman, man. Gender is so inconsequential to someone who's lived as long as me.' She smiles, but not happily. 'Gentleman,' she says. 'What a lost ideal.'

                'You were once,' Teague says. 'The finest gentleman, that's what all the books call you.'

                I feel like we've been forgotten. Set aside for this grand reunion of master and apprentice.

                'So they did,' Thacker confirms. She looks towards the three of us, standing behind Teague. 'Welcome to our temporary abode,' she says. 'I apologise for the little masquerade at the castle, one must be aware who one can trust.'
                Her words sometimes come from a forgotten age. Back in the castle she spoke like a woman of this time. I wonder is it like an accent. If you live in a country for long enough, you adopt their manners. Sometimes you can keep it. Maybe it shows a longing for a bygone age.

                'Why have you brought us here?' I ask.

                It strikes me that this is my favourite author of all time. Of all the ways I thought about meeting Robin Thacker, this was not among them. It's like I've stepped into one of the books. Ghosts and demons, jewels and thieves.

                'I was hoping you'd like to lend me a hand,' Thacker suggests. Her eyes show something, a twinkle, a whisper, but one I can't read.

                'Only if you answer some questions,' Yates says.

                'Yeah we want to know exactly what we're getting ourselves into, otherwise you can forget it,' Elle says.

                I nod in agreement. Thankfully, Thacker does too.

                'That seems fair,' she says. 'I think you'll find that in this game of ghosts and monsters, there is no side to choose. I can respect you for doing what you feel is right.' She turns to walk away but seems to reconsider. She turns to face us. 'But I sincerely hope you agree with me. What me and my colleague here have to say. We're on the brink of greatness beyond greatness.'
               When she talks, sometimes I hear the words she wrote. The Alchemist lives inside her and I want to follow to hear more. Visit the desert with Cecily and her ghostly friend. Flood the world and find the key. I remember my favourite line in the book. The last line. The line that always made me yearn for more. But there was never a sequel. No explanation and an author long dead. Now she stands in front of me. I wonder will I ever get to ask her a question as trivial about the last line of a book.

                She leads us into a room off the entrance hall. Inside is a long oval table with more chairs than I care to count. They stand taller than a person's back. The sort of chair used by kings and members of parliament and senates, Lords and Ladies. We enter the room as paupers.

                We all take seats near one end. Thacker sits at the head of the table with Teague at her right hand. We sit on her left.

                'What would you like to know?' Thacker asks. Her voice holds an air of calm.

                'First of all,' Elle interjects before anyone can say a thing, 'I want to know who's watching my parents. I want them to be safe. Agatha said she had people watching them and I don't think I want anyone watching them at all.'

                'That will, of course be dealt with,' Thacker says. A chill travels up my spine. What does that mean? That's the sort of thing a mafia boss says before pieces of animals end up in beds.

                'What are you going to do?' Elle asks.
                'Find out who is watching them. If they're living or dead. Either way they'll be scared away in an appropriate fashion. No one, least of all your parents will come to any harm. Which reminds me,' she raises her finger. 'You caused a stir in New York, the pair of you. We had a close call.'

                She refers to our appearance on television. I wonder have my parents seen it yet, made any sort of move to find me.

                'I wouldn't worry about it,' she says. 'Stories about ghosts and spirits rarely have a repeat performance in mass media. They get sent to back corners of that dratted internet. A word to the wise though,' she looks each of us in the face. 'Halogen light is a spirit's worst enemy. The same as infrared, ultraviolet or any harsh lighting from the ends of the spectrum. We can appear, scare and our world is revealed to the living. That isn't something we want at the present moment.'

                'And what do you want?' I ask.

                'Answers concerning the universe,' Thacker explains. 'My life's work finally complete. The Great Beyond,' she says and pauses, 'lies just out of our reach. Understanding it, reaching it, and above all having the ability to cross there and return safely.'

                'What is the Great Beyond?' asks Yates, desperation creeping into his voice. 
‘The Great Beyond is the next stage,’ Thacker explains. ‘I discovered it a long time ago. I had a friend, a dear dear friend who was plagued by a terrible sadness. He found the path onwards.’

                ‘This sounds very airy fairy to me,’ Elle says, crossing her arms. ‘Where’s your proof?’

                ‘One second he was there, the next he wasn’t,’ Thacker says. She doesn’t seem annoyed by Elle’s comments. She seems rather used to the dissent. ‘I need no further proof.’

                ‘Sounds like you got dumped to me,’ Elle remarks. ‘I’ve prayed. I used to be a weekender at all sorts of holy houses. I don’t need to tell you they never got answered.’

                I look at Elle and imagine her praying in the small hours. Praying for life and having it taken away from her. I don’t blame her from being sceptical.

                ‘You speak like I’m selling a religion,’ Thacker says. ‘I merely give the truth, the next scientific stage in a human being’s personal evolution. I would argue that you prayed for life and were awarded it in another form. I’m a student of the sciences, but that doesn’t mean there can’t be more to the universe. No being is all-powerful but some can certainly be more powerful than others.’

                Teague nods along all the way through Thacker’s speech. ‘You’re all young in this world,’ he says. ‘There are whole churches devoted to the gift of living on. Some of these sects believe we can travel further. This is what I wanted to do for you, Easton, back when we were connected. Travelling beyond this land means losing your form yes, but you become so much more than a single person. You become part of a network. The network we already share.’

                ‘The Edge?’ I say. ‘Is that what you mean?’

                ‘Of course,’ Thacker answers for him. ‘You’ve contacted each other using just your thoughts, you can leave this country and re-enter the universe at any physical point. This is proof that human beings are connected in a very real sense. Physical bodies rob that of us. Once my work on this plain has ceased I shall leave it and commence my journey onwards.’

                ‘So you think we’re all one big happy family and we should leave the mortal coil?’ Elle says. ‘I like this one thanks.’

                ‘But you’ll be giving up eternal life and the knowledge of everyone who has travelled the path. Being godlike!’
                ‘I’m alright thanks,’ I say. I dread to think what humans would do with godlike power. I’ve seen enough examples already.

                Thacker sits back in her chair as though she’s disappointed.

                ‘Well you’ll have first hand accounts and you’ll see for yourself. You’ll see it’s a gift as soon as it happens.’

                ‘As soon as what happens?’ I ask.

                ‘What are you going to us?’ Elle sits up, terror in her eyes.

                ‘Going to do? I did it as you walked through the door.’ She smiles.

                I stand up. ‘Let’s go,’ I say to the other two. ‘We can’t stay here.’

                ‘There’s no stopping it,’ Thacker says. ‘The Great Beyond awaits you.’

                ‘Hadn’t you better change me back to human form?’ Teague asks. Worry creeps into his voice, a slight wavering on the end of each word.

                ‘On the contrary, Teague my dear, you’re going with them. You’re the only man I trust to.’

                ‘I didn’t agree to this!’ he shouts.

                ‘Welcome to the club,’ Elle says. ‘Easton, I don’t feel good.’

                I feel so weak all of a sudden, like I’ve just blown up a balloon and my breath won’t return. I fall to my knees as my legs give up on my weight.

                I don’t want to go. I want to live, I want to stay here and wander the earth with my friends forever. But my body doesn’t agree. Blackness clogs the edges of my vision, and the rest of it swims from focus. I think I can feel my life ebbing away from me. This is what dying feels like. Not quick and painless like a car crash, this is lasting. Not painful but exhausting. My will is beaten and I’m falling.

                And I’m falling, falling, falling.

                Gone.

Above the Vaulted Sky - Page 176

               ‘I’m alright thanks,’ I say. I dread to think what humans would do with godlike power. I’ve seen enough examples already.

                Thacker sits back in her chair as though she’s disappointed.

                ‘Well you’ll have first hand accounts and you’ll see for yourself. You’ll see it’s a gift as soon as it happens.’

                ‘As soon as what happens?’ I ask.

                ‘What are you going to us?’ Elle sits up, terror in her eyes.

                ‘Going to do? I did it as you walked through the door.’ She smiles.

                I stand up. ‘Let’s go,’ I say to the other two. ‘We can’t stay here.’

                ‘There’s no stopping it,’ Thacker says. ‘The Great Beyond awaits you.’

                ‘Hadn’t you better change me back to human form?’ Teague asks. Worry creeps into his voice, a slight wavering on the end of each word.

                ‘On the contrary, Teague my dear, you’re going with them. You’re the only man I trust to.’

                ‘I didn’t agree to this!’ he shouts.

                ‘Welcome to the club,’ Elle says. ‘Easton, I don’t feel good.’

                I feel so weak all of a sudden, like I’ve just blown up a balloon and my breath won’t return. I fall to my knees as my legs give up on my weight.

                I don’t want to go. I want to live, I want to stay here and wander the earth with my friends forever. But my body doesn’t agree. Blackness clogs the edges of my vision, and the rest of it swims from focus. I think I can feel my life ebbing away from me. This is what dying feels like. Not quick and painless like a car crash, this is lasting. Not painful but exhausting. My will is beaten and I’m falling.

                And I’m falling, falling, falling.

                Gone.

Above the Vaulted Sky - Page 175

                ‘The Great Beyond is the next stage,’ Thacker explains. ‘I discovered it a long time ago. I had a friend, a dear dear friend who was plagued by a terrible sadness. He found the path onwards.’

                ‘This sounds very airy fairy to me,’ Elle says, crossing her arms. ‘Where’s your proof?’

                ‘One second he was there, the next he wasn’t,’ Thacker says. She doesn’t seem annoyed by Elle’s comments. She seems rather used to the dissent. ‘I need no further proof.’

                ‘Sounds like you got dumped to me,’ Elle remarks. ‘I’ve prayed. I used to be a weekender at all sorts of holy houses. I don’t need to tell you they never got answered.’

                I look at Elle and imagine her praying in the small hours. Praying for life and having it taken away from her. I don’t blame her from being sceptical.

                ‘You speak like I’m selling a religion,’ Thacker says. ‘I merely give the truth, the next scientific stage in a human being’s personal evolution. I would argue that you prayed for life and were awarded it in another form. I’m a student of the sciences, but that doesn’t mean there can’t be more to the universe. No being is all-powerful but some can certainly be more powerful than others.’

                Teague nods along all the way through Thacker’s speech. ‘You’re all young in this world,’ he says. ‘There are whole churches devoted to the gift of living on. Some of these sects believe we can travel further. This is what I wanted to do for you, Easton, back when we were connected. Travelling beyond this land means losing your form yes, but you become so much more than a single person. You become part of a network. The network we already share.’

                ‘The Edge?’ I say. ‘Is that what you mean?’

                ‘Of course,’ Thacker answers for him. ‘You’ve contacted each other using just your thoughts, you can leave this country and re-enter the universe at any physical point. This is proof that human beings are connected in a very real sense. Physical bodies rob that of us. Once my work on this plain has ceased I shall leave it and commence my journey onwards.’

                ‘So you think we’re all one big happy family and we should leave the mortal coil?’ Elle says. ‘I like this one thanks.’

                ‘But you’ll be giving up eternal life and the knowledge of everyone who has travelled the path. Being godlike!’

Above the Vaulted Sky - Page 174

                'Find out who is watching them. If they're living or dead. Either way they'll be scared away in an appropriate fashion. No one, least of all your parents will come to any harm. Which reminds me,' she raises her finger. 'You caused a stir in New York, the pair of you. We had a close call.'

                She refers to our appearance on television. I wonder have my parents seen it yet, made any sort of move to find me.

                'I wouldn't worry about it,' she says. 'Stories about ghosts and spirits rarely have a repeat performance in mass media. They get sent to back corners of that dratted internet. A word to the wise though,' she looks each of us in the face. 'Halogen light is a spirit's worst enemy. The same as infrared, ultraviolet or any harsh lighting from the ends of the spectrum. We can appear, scare and our world is revealed to the living. That isn't something we want at the present moment.'

                'And what do you want?' I ask.

                'Answers concerning the universe,' Thacker explains. 'My life's work finally complete. The Great Beyond,' she says and pauses, 'lies just out of our reach. Understanding it, reaching it, and above all having the ability to cross there and return safely.'

                'What is the Great Beyond?' asks Yates, desperation creeping into his voice. 

Above the Vaulted Sky - Page 173

               When she talks, sometimes I hear the words she wrote. The Alchemist lives inside her and I want to follow to hear more. Visit the desert with Cecily and her ghostly friend. Flood the world and find the key. I remember my favourite line in the book. The last line. The line that always made me yearn for more. But there was never a sequel. No explanation and an author long dead. Now she stands in front of me. I wonder will I ever get to ask her a question as trivial about the last line of a book.

                She leads us into a room off the entrance hall. Inside is a long oval table with more chairs than I care to count. They stand taller than a person's back. The sort of chair used by kings and members of parliament and senates, Lords and Ladies. We enter the room as paupers.

                We all take seats near one end. Thacker sits at the head of the table with Teague at her right hand. We sit on her left.

                'What would you like to know?' Thacker asks. Her voice holds an air of calm.

                'First of all,' Elle interjects before anyone can say a thing, 'I want to know who's watching my parents. I want them to be safe. Agatha said she had people watching them and I don't think I want anyone watching them at all.'

                'That will, of course be dealt with,' Thacker says. A chill travels up my spine. What does that mean? That's the sort of thing a mafia boss says before pieces of animals end up in beds.

                'What are you going to do?' Elle asks.

Above the Vaulted Sky - Page 172

                Her words sometimes come from a forgotten age. Back in the castle she spoke like a woman of this time. I wonder is it like an accent. If you live in a country for long enough, you adopt their manners. Sometimes you can keep it. Maybe it shows a longing for a bygone age.

                'Why have you brought us here?' I ask.

                It strikes me that this is my favourite author of all time. Of all the ways I thought about meeting Robin Thacker, this was not among them. It's like I've stepped into one of the books. Ghosts and demons, jewels and thieves.

                'I was hoping you'd like to lend me a hand,' Thacker suggests. Her eyes show something, a twinkle, a whisper, but one I can't read.

                'Only if you answer some questions,' Yates says.

                'Yeah we want to know exactly what we're getting ourselves into, otherwise you can forget it,' Elle says.

                I nod in agreement. Thankfully, Thacker does too.

                'That seems fair,' she says. 'I think you'll find that in this game of ghosts and monsters, there is no side to choose. I can respect you for doing what you feel is right.' She turns to walk away but seems to reconsider. She turns to face us. 'But I sincerely hope you agree with me. What me and my colleague here have to say. We're on the brink of greatness beyond greatness.'

Above the Vaulted Sky - Page 171

                'Really, Teague?' comes the now familiar voice.

                Robin Thacker appears at the top of the staircase. She walks down the stairs like a queen, one hand on the bannister. She's changed clothes. A benefit of the living. I'm guessing she has some device or another on her person that lets her see us. She locks eyes with me in particular as she reaches the bottom step.

                'I thought it might be appropriate?' Teague ventures. 'The man bringing spoils home to the lady in the manor.'

                'You know I don't like that sort of language,' Thacker replies. Her voice has changed. Once light and grandma-like. Now there is authority. 'Lady, woman and gentleman, man. Gender is so inconsequential to someone who's lived as long as me.' She smiles, but not happily. 'Gentleman,' she says. 'What a lost ideal.'

                'You were once,' Teague says. 'The finest gentleman, that's what all the books call you.'

                I feel like we've been forgotten. Set aside for this grand reunion of master and apprentice.

                'So they did,' Thacker confirms. She looks towards the three of us, standing behind Teague. 'Welcome to our temporary abode,' she says. 'I apologise for the little masquerade at the castle, one must be aware who one can trust.'

Above the Vaulted Sky - Page 170

                'This is looking very Montana like to me,' Elle says.

                'How do you know from a look?'

                'I've done a lot of air miles, Easton. I know the shape of the world, the lie of the land. Plus I used to watch a lot of TV. Daytime TV bad guys love this kind of place.'

                'I take that as an insult,' Teague calls over his shoulder. 'I'm much more primetime.'

                Elle purses her lips and raises her eyebrows in approval. 'Okay, point one for Teague. He's growing on me.'

                'Yeah, like a fungus,' Yates says and they laugh again.

                The front door of the manor swings open to Teague's touch. I wonder why he doesn't just walk through it. Maybe for the pleasure of living. The power he still has over the real world.

                'We move around a lot,' he says. 'So we never bother making a place look like home.'

                The thought of Teague having a home confuses me for a second. That this megalomaniac scientist could have ever been a child, happily running around on a beach. To me he seems the eternal madman.

                'Honey, I'm home!' he calls.

                His voice rings out and bounces off the empty walls covered in dust.

                Two wide staircases curl upwards on either side of the hall. The floor is black and white like a chessboard and chandeliers hang from the ceiling. They're covered in so much spider's web that it's unclear where the web ends and crystal begins.

Above the Vaulted Sky - Page 169

Chapter Twenty-Five

                The manor is daunting and large and rises like a mountain from the earth before us. Its roof is dark and the windows sit broken in their panes. If I were to picture the image of a haunted house then this would be near the top of my list.

                'Lovely place you got here, Teague,' Elle observes. 'Should we start calling you the Count?'

                'If that would please you,' he rebuffs.

                'Why is it that ghosts tend to congregate in buildings left for the spiders?' I ask.

                'For the precise reason that humans are scared of the dark and creeping. All that is uncanny in the world. Here you have a house before you that was once great. A place of regency and honour now turned to decay. When we found it, chairs were upturned, pianos left open like their players were abducted mid song. The presence of history stopped in time keeps people away.'

                'Yeah but have you ever heard of house pride?' Elle nudges Yates and the two snort.

                'Let's go inside,' Teague says. 'And be reminded that history led us to this moment.'

                He starts down a grassy slope. The high pointed grey mountains behind the woods at the back of the manor make me think that we're in America somewhere. An American belle's Rocky Mountain retreat.

Box Set - Chapter Twenty-Four

The room before us transcends enormity. It’s clear that the old stone castle has been hollowed out and re-integrated with metal balconies, floors and banks upon banks of computers and equipment with spirits bustling away at it.

In the centre of the room sits a cube with the moleskin man sat in its centre.

‘Don’t you know that when you shut the bad guy in the glass cage, it inevitably ends in escape?’ I observe.

‘And/or becomes part of said bad guy’s plan?’ Elle adds.

I turn to her showing pride for her inner geek. ‘I’ve taught you well.’

Windermere ignores us. The room is warm despite the fact that the windows are all glassless and the roof has endless holes in it.

‘How do you stop all your things from getting wet?’ Yates asks, looking towards the dizzying heights above us.

‘We have many tricks thanks to Thacker’s research,’ Windermere says. ‘The equipment you see before you is kept on our plain, it would be invisible to anyone who entered this castle.’

‘What is this place?’ I ask.

‘It was abandoned a long time ago. Legend says it is heavily haunted meaning people stay away from it.’ A ghost of a smile passes over her face.

I close my eyes and view the room. I wonder are they aware of our gift. The people of the Council have proved to be confusing. They lock us away and seem more annoyed that we set Thacker free than the fact that we escaped ourselves. They don’t seem to know about our ability to talk to each other through the Edge, and the fact that the power remains ours shows that they’re either oblivious to it, or are unable to block it.

Do you think they’re divided in opinion? Elle thinks. I look at her. We’re clearly following the same train of thought.

I look around the room. People stand talking together but their feelings are clear for us to see. Deception and distate flickers across conversation as clear as if they were voicing their thoughts.

Windermere did say their opinion was divided about what to do with us.I reply.

I don’t like them, Easton. Elle says. I just get a bad feeling. Their only problem with Thacker is the fact that he became a she, or part she. Why is it always people like this who get power?

Because they’re the ones who are willing to take it.

The voice is familiar, and not one I wanted to hear again. I look at him in the glass cage. He sits cross legged with his eyes closed. He doesn’t regard us, or make any indication that he knows we’ve arrived, but Teague knows we’re here.

Don’t be surprised, you look surprised. I don’t want you to give the game away.

How are you doing this? I think back.

It’s not a secret. I’ve learned a lot since we last met. The people here are fools and you’re going to help me take them down.

You’ve got another thing coming. Elle says.

I close my eyes for a second. Teague lights up like a firework.

How did you become a spirit again? Don’t tell me someone’s paying the price for this.

I’m shocked as I realise we’re in trouble. I can’t help it, but I turn around and look at Yates.

‘Oh god,’ Elle says.

You’re right, he won’t have long. Teague says. He sounds happy.

‘Windermere,’ I say. The woman had been looking at a computer with a tall man with glasses. She turns her attention to us again. ‘We need to find Graham, my friend.’

‘We know all about Yates’s condition,’ Windermere says. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t realise it already.’

I realise my mistake and my heart sinks. I’d been so worried about my own problems that I’d forgotten that Yates was in danger. How much longer did he have? I don’t know how long we were in the cells.

‘He’s coming to help, Easton,’Yates says. ‘Don’t worry.’

‘I wouldn’t count on it.’ Elle pushes forward. ‘You have all of Teague’s equipment. You’re like masters of the spirit world, right? So end the connection between them, unless you want his blood on your hands.’

‘I don’t know how many more times I have to say it.’ Windermere crosses her arms. ‘Spirits are not bound by the limitations of life. We cannot die. We live on.’

‘But other things can happen,’Elle says. ‘Worse things. And you know that.’

Windermere’s eyes flicker.

‘So end it.’

‘I feel this would be a good place to make a deal.’

The voice is deeper and commanded respect. The low hum of chatter around us died a little and we turn to regard it. The woman is squat but strong looking, with close cropped dark hair and pale hazel eyes. Her suit is crisp and she walks lightly like a woman free of troubles. I think she would have been rich in life.

And here’s the boss of the operation.Teague adds. Be careful, she has a forked tongue.

‘Just let out of your cell and now you’re making demands,’ the woman says.

‘If you didn’t want us to be out, you should build better cells,’ Elle says. ‘Maybe invest in some windows.’

‘I’d ask you to keep quiet if you know what’s good for you,’ the woman snaps.

‘Don’t talk to Elle like that,’Yates demands.

‘I’d also asks that criminals like yourselves watch your manners. You’re lucky to be out anyway.’

Windermere has shrunk to stand behind her. She looks small despite standing so tall.

‘My name is Agatha,’ the woman stares me in the eyes. They pierce me; threaten to read my every secret. ‘Why are you not talking with Teague yet?’ she continues.

Because he won’t reply.

Be quiet, you. I think.

‘I still don’t know why you think he’ll listen to us,’ I reply. ‘He double crossed us , I know you know that. You know everything else.’

‘Well then we’ll connect you together and take you to the other side of the world until he cooperates.’

It’ll never come to that.

‘And what do you want from him?’

‘We want to know what he and his friend were planning to do when we caught them both.’

‘And where did you catch them?’

‘I’m not at liberty to disclose that.’

We were sightseeing. Completely innocently. The girl and her ghost. Sound familiar?

I don’t trust either of them for a second. A lot of things are clear. One, that Graham either won’t or can’t come to find us. Two, that we won’t get out of this building without cooperating, and three, Yates would fall to his atoms if we didn’t wasted too much more time.

‘Let’s go and see him,’ I say. ‘And I’ll show you how little help we are.’

Agatha waves her hand towards the cage. It strikes me how absurd this all is. ‘If we get him to cooperate, then you release Yates and let us go.’

‘Release the boy from his captivity I can agree to,’ Agatha says. ‘Your situation after will be put to the council.’

First chance we get, Elle thinks. Run, opposite sides of the earth.

And where will we all be meeting? Teague chips in.

‘Hello Teague,’ I say, presuming he can hear me through the glass.

The man doesn’t open his eyes, but rather sits absolutely still and speaks. ‘I wondered when you were going to come.’ Terrific actor aren’t I.

‘Why did you wonder that?’

‘Because these fools believe they can control me.’ This will all happen very quickly. You have one chance to do the right thing.

I look at him. And then at Elle. I don’t know what to do about Yates. We haven’t had a moment to introduce him to our new ability. If something happens he has to come with us.

‘I’m watching you, Easton.’Agatha stands beside me with her eyes narrowed. She smells a rat.

‘Hello, Agatha, how are we today? You bigoted old witch.’ Teague’s words are scathing, but he doesn’t give her the time of day. Five.

‘You’ll watch your mouth,’ Agatha spits. ‘After everything you’ve done you haven’t earned the right to insult me.’ Four.

What’s he going to do? Elle says. Yates, can you hear me?

I bless Elle’s thinking. She’s always on top of things so much quicker than I am.

How are you doing that? Yates thinks. A knot releases in my stomach, whatever happens, we’ll be together.

Three.

Elle explains our new ability quickly. Agatha has abandoned hope of talking to us. She stands with her hand against the glass, almost willing Teague to challenge her.

Two.

‘You killed all those people with your last experiment. Two men, three woman and a child. Do you really expect me to treat you with anything other than contempt?’

Lies. Teague thinks. And one.

The room erupts around us. Light fixtures go dark, some overload and explode in showers of sparks. The population of spirits in the room joins in a unanimous scream as we’re plunged into the gloom.

‘Secure the prisoner!’ Agatha yells.

‘I think we’ll be making our escape.’

Teague stands beside me and grips my arm. I can only hope he’s gripped Elle’s too.

We’re jerked forward and enter the Edge without another moment’s warning, leaving the chaos in the room behind us.

We exit the Edge and I instantly lose my footing. The ground beneath me is constituted of small stones and scree. I fall to my knees and tumble downwards.

‘Easton!’someone calls. I think Elle.

I reach the bottom and dig my hands into the stones to steady myself. My heart beats quickly in my chest.

The memory of a heart, I remind myself.

A rushing fills my ears. A repeated crescendo of rise and crash, rolling and tumbling. I’m by the sea. I have a flash of running on Weymouth beach. Mum chases me with a towel. I giggle uncontrollably. It’s not a memory I’ve had before. I’m far too young yet the memory is fresh. This isn’t Weymouth. The sea spray is cold and harsh and stings my cheeks as I raise myself onto my elbows.

'Are you alright, Easton?' Elle skids to a stop at my side after sliding down the slope herself.

I can hear Yates shouting at Teague from the top of the slope by the waves drown him out.

'I'm fine,' I insist as I drag myself to my feet.

'What the hell was that?' Elle shouts back up the slope. 'No warning, no asking if we want to come with you.'

'Oh, I'm sorry,' says Teague. 'I'll leave you to rot in the next castle.'

'That's completely beside the point,' Yates says. 'We go no further until someone tells us what's going on.'

I swell with pride for my friends. My friends who, a lot of the time are stronger than me and push me to be better myself.

'It's fairly simple,' Teague chides. 'Did you really think the entire earth would adopt your freeloving, freeroaming lifestyle after death? Human beings band together. It's a simple fact of life. We're like rats on a sinking ship.'

'Always the optimist,' I say, crossing my arms. 'Are there other groups?'

'Oh thousands,' he replies. 'The Council are among the noisiest. A lot of people fear disorder. They believe it is the first recipe in brewing chaos.'

'But we're ghost's, what can we do?'

'Easton, you're looking at exhibit A,' Elle says. 'Where he's concerned, I can see the Council's point.'

'But that's where you're wrong.' Teague slides down the slope. The ground is damp here. The waves growing ever closer to our ankles. 'I may have been overzealous in my early efforts, but my viewpoint is valid. After death, we don't stop existing. We go on living, there is no difference between the two.'

'Then why did you want to return to life so much?' I ask. 'In Rome you were desperate to.'

'Position,' he says. 'Power and fear. Even I'll admit that. I feared the crossing but now I embrace it, all thanks to Robin.'

'Oh yeah,' Yates says. 'Would you care to explain that one? I have zero problem with any man who sees fit to become a woman, but I was under the impression that required a great deal of surgery.'

'The dead have privilege,' Teague says. 'We have to discuss this elsewhere. I only took us here to throw them off our trail. We can meet up with Robin and discuss our position in comfort.'

'I still don't know why we should trust you?' I ask.

'Because we've escaped the hand of the Council and they'll most certainly be coming after us.'

'So you've put us into a nice little catch 22,' Yates says. 'We can't leave you because we have no way of clearing our names. So we have to stay and do whatever you want.'

'See, this is why I always liked you, Yates,' Teague says. 'A man with perspective.'

'My perspective is that you're a murderer who should be brought to justice. Just because some other people might be worse than you doesn't make you any less bad.'

'I'm with Yates,' Elle says.

'Me too,' I concur.

'You'll change your minds when you meet with Robin,' Teague says.

He holds his hands out. He certainly seems to have changed since we last met. His devious streak has increased tenfold but there does seem to be an ounce of righteousness to balance it out. But Yates is right, it doesn't change the man he was before. In my head, if you can live you can die and if you can die then murder is still murder.

But Yates is right. We have no choice but to go along with him.

I place my hand on his coarse palm and the other two follow me. Elle is the last to join.