Chapter 8 #2
I reach up and push his hair back from his face, keeping my other arm wrapped around him. “You’re on the third floor. I think it’s the old servants’ wing. You really don’t remember getting up here?”
“No. I?—”
There’s a sudden loud pounding and then Danny and Tristan spill out from the staircase and hurry down the corridor to where we’re standing. By the time they reach us, Danny looks slightly out of breath, and Tristan is leaning over with his hands braced on his knees as he wheezes.
“Bloody stairs,” Tristan pants.
“You okay there, Tris?” Chan smirks. “You’re looking a little cardio…deficient.”
He doesn’t answer, just makes a noise a bit like a balloon deflating.
“You okay, Harrison?” Danny asks, his eyes raking over the man in my arms. “You’re looking a little like a Teletubby. What did we miss?”
“I’m not sure what happened.” Harrison frowns. He’s stopped shivering as much, but he makes no move to step away from me, and I can’t say I have any plans to let him go.
“I tell you what happened,” Chan interrupts. “Sam and I were downstairs looking for Prickles in the rooms on the second floor when this weird-ass magic fox appeared and?—”
“A fox?” Harrison says sharply, and Chan nods. “Was it a melanistic fox?”
“Well, I suppose it was a little regal looking,” Chan muses.
“Not majestic, melanistic,” Tristan says, having finally caught his breath.
“Was it black and red?” Harrison asks.
“Yeah, it was.” I look down as he meets my eyes. “Have you seen it before?” He answers with a nod.
“Hang on a minute,” Dusty’s voice suddenly intrudes, and Chan yelps once again.
“For fuck’s sake, Dusty, you seem determined for me to join you in the afterlife prematurely. I don’t even want to think about my poor blood pressure right now.”
“There’s nothing wrong with your blood pressure.” Dusty rolls her eyes. “And don’t change the subject. What did you mean, magic fox?”
“It looked solid and real,” I say. “It seemed to be waiting for us, and when we followed it up the stairs, it disappeared only to reappear further down the corridor. At first, we couldn’t see Prickles. He was completely obscured by shadows.”
“How is that possible?” Tristan frowns, looking at the size of the corridor and the light placements.
“I don’t know,” I mutter, absently rubbing circles on Harrison’s back as he leans against me heavily. It’s a testament to how spaced-out and pale he looks that no one teases us. “But the fox led us straight to Prickles. He wound around his legs and the shadows…”
“The shadows what?” Tristan asks curiously.
“It’s like they were alive,” Chan explains.
“Alive?”
“They were moving, then they kind of parted, and there was Prickles in some sort of trance,” I continue. “He didn’t know where he was or how he got there.”
Tristan stares at Harrison. “Is that true?”
“Pretty much sums it all up,” he says tiredly.
“Hang on a minute,” Dusty interrupts. “Go back to the fox.”
“The fox, really?” I reply. “You’re not concerned about the creepy, seemingly sentient shadows?”
“Not really. Places this old and with the kind of history this building has are often crawling with shadow spirits. Usually, they’re pretty harmless.”
“Harmless?” I scowl. “He was one step away from hypothermia when we found him.”
“But he’s fine now.” She waves her hand. “Go back to the fox.”
“There’s not much more to tell,” Chan says. “It looked real enough, then appeared and disappeared like a ghost.” His eyes narrow. “Are there ghost animals?”
Dusty shakes her head. “It’s a grey area, and not my area of expertise.”
“I’d have thought your area of expertise would be seventies disco songs,” Tristan mutters.
“Or Bruce’s dick,” Chan adds.
“When you two have quite finished.” Dusty rolls her eyes. “I don’t think this fox is a low-level spirit creature.” She purses her ruby-painted lips thoughtfully. “There’s a couple of things it could be.”
“Like what?” Harrison asks. “The first time I saw it, I wondered if it was a familiar.”
“A familiar?” Chan repeats.
“Like a witch’s familiar. True witches, I mean those with actual magic, can attract a familiar to them if they’re powerful enough.”
“Prickles is right.” Dusty nods. “And we’re not talking your average kitty or puppy, but actual entities that take the form of animals and have powers of their own.”
“Do you think that’s what this was?” Harrison asks.
“I don’t know without seeing it myself.”
“When did you first see it, Prickles?” I ask.
“Outside the bookshop, close to the eclipse.”
“Outside this place? Viv’s bookshop?” I clarify, and he nods.
“I’ve only seen it twice. The second time was at Vivienne’s funeral,” he admits, and there’s something in his eyes that I can’t put a name to.
“So it could be Viv’s?” Chan says.
Dusty shakes her head. “There’s no way she would have been even close to powerful enough to attract a familiar. Familiars choose their companions, not the other way around.”
“Well, what else could it be?” Tristan asks. “You said there were a couple of things.”
“It’s possible it was a physical manifestation of a much more powerful awareness,” Dusty muses.
He blinks. “A what now?”
“Like an avatar,” Harrison murmurs.
“I’m confused.” Tristan frowns.
“You’re confused.” Danny sighs. “Try attempting to follow this conversation when you can’t hear half of it.”
I feel for Danny. I sometimes forget he can’t hear or see Dusty.
“Sorry, baby.” Tristan winces. “I’ll fill you in later, I promise.”
“Go back to what you were saying,” I say to Dusty. “About physical manifestations.”
“If you have a powerful supernatural presence or awareness that doesn’t have its own corporeal form, it can sometimes project that awareness into a proxy.
I don’t mean it can possess an existing form, I mean it can create its own for a short period of time, kinda like what Harrison said. An avatar.”
“I’ve felt a presence in this place,” Harrison says quietly.
“So have I,” I admit.
“Me too,” Tristan adds.
“I think, given the fox’s proximity to this place, it’s certainly possible that there’s something in this place it belongs to.”
“How the fuck do you know this shit?” Chan exclaims.
“Spirit Guide Sunday School.” She shrugs.
“I’m technically still a trainee. This was one of the mandatory lectures.
Malevolent and benevolent manifestations of non-corporeal entities and their preferred forms. There’s also a handbook, but that’s propping up one of the legs on the coffee table at my place in heaven. ”
“You’ve got your own place in heaven?” Tristan asks.
“Of course I do. What, did you think I was homeless?”
“No, I thought you lived with us, given your near permanent residency,” he replies.
“Permanent residency?” She smirks. “Well, don’t I just feel like Celine Dion in Vegas.”
“Um, guys?” Danny interrupts. “Are those the creepy shadow things you were talking about?”
We all turn to look where Danny’s pointing, and sure enough, it looks like winding black shadows are seeping through the solid wall.
“Those are them.” Chan’s eyes widen as he begins to back down the corridor and towards the stairs. “I say we hotfoot it out of here. Anyone care to join me in the quickstep?”
“Works for me.” Tristan hurries down the corridor after him.
“Me too.” Danny nods quickly. “You need help with Harrison?”
“I’ve got him,” I reply, wrapping my arm fully around his waist and pulling him down the corridor.
“Dusty!” Tristan calls back, and when I look over my shoulder, I see her staring at the shadows now writhing through the wall like smoky tentacles. “DUSTY!” Tristan yells loudly, and when she finally turns to follow us down the stairs and out of the bookshop, her expression is extremely troubled.
Something in my stomach tightens.
Why would something she said was pretty much harmless make her look that worried?