Page 68 of Edge of Wonder
My fingers tightened around the reins.Freedom.The word sounded wrong in my head. How can you want something for so long, and then, right when you’re about to get it, everything changes? Were you supposed to walk down a different path or stay the course, wondering if things would right themselves, and go back to the way they were? And what if you didn’t want them to?
Alice rode ahead, surrounded by her contingent of guards. She laughed softly with them, conversing to pass the time, basically doing what she did: charm everyone. Tessa had been right the night we brought her back from the dead. Alice will make a great queen.
This was her destiny. But my part in that was ending.
I cleared the tightness from my throat. “You know, there are ghosts here, Shire.”
“Yes, I’m well aware. Thank you for your astute observation.”
“I was just thinking that maybe it might be possible to start something here. It’s always good to keep branching out. Multiple realm domination, and all that.”
Shire made a strangled sound in the back of her throat. “Tell me I’m not hearing what I think I’m hearing. After all of this. Everything the two of you have been through. The challenges, the forced proximity, the midnight waterfall trip that I did not spy on for longer than the first few minutes—I swear.
“You’re telling me you think, maybe, you might, possibly want to stay and be with Alice? Wow! Be still my non-beating heart. Who wouldn’t swoon from that conviction?”
I ground my teeth together. “You’re not helping.”
“Oh, trust me, I’m helping. But I’m getting a little tired of the will he, won’t he act. It’s exhausting. I get it, you’re emotionally constipated or whatever. You blame your parents. A cat looked at you weird one time and now you’re messed up.”
“Shire!”
“What? It’s facts. You have the most incredible woman, a freaking queen in training, who actually thinks you’re a pretty great guy for some bizarre reason, and you’d rather run home and play with ghosts. Ghosts! Which, as you said, are literally everywhere. See? There’s some right over there.” Shire pointed through the thinning trees at a sprawling graveyard. It was nestled in a large clearing, so far untouched by the creeping thorns.
Our party slowed as we approached a rusted wrought-iron gate in front of a stone pillar. The shape of the pillar was like the one Alice lit at her induction ceremony. But instead of gold, the sphere was solid black marble. Black and white lilies grew around the base, creating a chessboard pattern that flowed into a path of crushed shells.
“What is this place?”
“This is the royal players’ memorial ground. It’s where past players are buried along with their families. Every generation rests here, dating back to the very first challenge. One of the player rituals is to stop and honor them before the final challenge.” Shire tossed back her corkscrew curls. “Plus, it’s really pretty with all those weeping willows and flowering trees. Great picnic spot.”
“I'm sure the dead love it when people stop by to eat a sandwich,” I muttered under my breath. “You said the families are buried here, too?”
Shire nodded.
“Alice’s parents?”
“Yes, I believe they’re buried on the south end. She’ll want to visit them. She never got the chance before she was taken away. Everything happened so quickly back then. There wasn’t time for proper burials. I could send her with Peter if you’d rather hang back? Take a nap? Maybe toss some dice to decide your future?”
“You are obnoxious,” I said, dismounting from the horse.
“And you’re thick-headed.” Shire leaned forward, floating nearly horizontally in the air. She crooked her finger. “But because I’m a generous ghost, let me give you some advice. It’s plain as day that you care for Alice. We all see it. Your actions speak louder than words. But she still needs to hear them. So you have to figure out how to get what is in here—” Shire pressed her hand against her heart, then moved it to her mouth. “And say it up here. Because eventually, someone else is going to come along and say all the right things, and then it'll be over.” She shooed me away. “Now go talk to some dead people.”
Alice waited by the gate. Her fingers twisted in her hands as she peered out over the numerous gravestones. When she saw me approaching, an anxious smile formed on her lips. There was a question in her eyes, and I knew what she was going to ask.
“Are there ghosts here?”
“Yes, a few. But usually, ghost hunters don’t come to graveyards to see the ghosts. More often, it’s to commune with the ones that have already crossed over.”
“I know. Vivian told me how she used to do that when she was younger. She practically lived in a graveyard and had a whole slew of friends on the other side. Do you think we could try?” Her voice rose on a hopeful note.
“Of course, we can try. But I have to warn you, it doesn’t always work. Sometimes they don’t answer. It’s just the way it is.”
“That’s okay. I won’t blame you if nothing happens. You're a professional, after all,” she teased.
Alice started down one of the twisting gravel paths, heading toward the south end of the site. There weren’t many spirits here, so many of the dead had already crossed over. But the few who remained bowed their heads as we walked past. Some were young—players’ lives who’d been cut short, and there was no one to help them cross over.
It was one thing to vanquish evil spirits. That’s where the real money was, but a ghost hunter was more than just a spirit cleanser. We had a purpose, too, and there was purpose to be found here. I think somewhere along the line, caught up in achieving fame and fortune, I’d forgotten that.
Alice stopped in front of a stone marker listing names with birth years similar to her own. The players who’d gone before her. Their graves were further in, surrounded by flowering plants. The sun had started its slow descent, bathing the grounds in faint orange light. Alice’s hair gleamed, her skin warmed by the evening glow. She traced her fingers over the engravings, pausing at one in particular.