Page 24 of Wraith's Revenge
“Lizzie has a ghost?” Ava said, eyebrows rising. “This is a new development—do we know who it is?”
“Not yet,” I said. “I only picked her up today. Belle hasn’t had a chance to talk to her yet.”
“Has she got anything to do with the murder this afternoon that you’ve all been studiously avoiding mentioning?” Edward said in a dry sort of tone.
“You know about that?” Belle said, surprised.
“Darling girl, have you forgotten we’re still running the Psychic Advisory Commission? There’s nothing psi related that happens in this town that we don’t know about within an hour of it happening.”
The PAC was a government-sponsored service designed to advise and help psychics on all matters, be they legal, personal, or talent related. Ghosts were part of their purview, and one they dealt with surprisingly often. Canberra might be one of Australia’s youngest cities, but she hosted plenty of ghostly entities, thanks no doubt to the high number of witches living here. The two things often seemed related.
“The murder was sorcerer rather than psi related, though,” I said.
“Perhaps, but the spirit world was abuzz with the news that a new player had risen,” Edward said. Like Belle, he was a strong spirit talker.
“If she’s only just risen, she wouldn’t have the power to interact in any way with the physical world,” Belle said.
My spirit tugged at my fingers again; this time, her demand I follow washed over me in a thick wave. Which shouldn’t be happening and suggested that this ghost and I had a connection that went beyond the metaphysical. One that was strengthening with every interaction. “Um, guys, we haven’t the time to debate what she should and shouldn’t be able to do. She needs me to follow her right now.”
Ashworth and Eli thrust to their feet. “Then let us be going.”
“This is not how I’d hoped the evening would go,” Ava said with a soft sigh. “Do you wish us to accompany you? We know this city better than any of you—”
“And the four of us are better equipped to deal with this type of situation.” Belle kissed her parents’ cheeks. “I’ll let you know the minute we uncover what is going on.”
“Do, please,” Edward said.
“And come back for dinner tomorrow,” Ava said. “You can update us on the court case and the sorcerer hunt.”
“If nothing else goes wrong, that would be lovely.” I scooped up my purse and coat and followed the vaguely shimmering presence through the house.
“We taking the car?” Ashworth asked as we walked out onto the front patio.
When I hesitated, the spirit grabbed my hand and tugged me down the driveway.
“I guess not,” Eli said, amusement evident. “You three go on—I’ll grab our backpacks from the car.”
“You came prepared?” Belle said, surprised.
“Lassie,” Ashworth said, “with the habit you two have of landing us in strange and unusual situations, we concluded it’s safer never to travel without all the necessary witch paraphernalia.”
We were led to a path that took us from Cobby Street to the Mount Ainslie Reserve. Once we were through the bollards that signified the entrance, Eli handed out flashlights. I flicked mine on and swept it across the stone path that meandered through the white-trunked eucalypts. This area was well used during the day by walkers and runners alike—or had been, when Belle and I were kids—but there was something almost mystical about it on a still, foggy night.
We walked on and, all too quickly, the path began to climb. It soon intersected with another, and I paused, wondering whether we needed to go left or right. My ghost chose neither. Instead, she led us onto what looked to be little more than a roo track and went straight up the hill.
“We keep going this way,” Belle said, her voice soft but nevertheless sharp on the still air, “we’ll hit the outskirts of the old quarry.”
“If the quarry is our end goal,” I replied, a little more breathlessly than I liked. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to approach it from the lookout? It’s only a five-minute walk from there.”
“Perhaps your ghost isn’t aware of that,” Eli said. “Maybe she’s not from around these parts.”
“Everyone in Canberra knows the lookout and the quarry,” I said. “Most kids have played in the damn thing at one point or another.”
“Not most kids,” Belle said. “Royal lines wouldn’t be caught dead around this area. I mean, Sarrs live here.”
I snorted, though it was nothing more than a rather sad truth. Such was the disconnect between the upper and lower classes of witch that they did tend to stick to their “own” areas and school precincts. Belle had been the only Sarr in our school, and while the board would definitely have preferred she not be there, they couldn’t do anything because of who I was.
We continued on through the ghostly gums, the fog getting thicker the farther up the hill we moved.