“Can you tell me about giant sickness?” she asked the two ghosts.
The other ghosts were pressing in more insistently, making goosebumps break out on Reg’s arms, neck, and back. She tried to strengthen her barrier against them.
“They talk about the land of the giants,” the older woman explained. “A land where the people are very tall like trees and stand all day, or lie on the ground. They wander out of the village into the swamp. You must not let them wander or they may never return.”
Reg had a chill. Was that what had happened to Wilson? He had contracted this disease and had wandered away from the others in his group with hallucinations and had never returned? He had probably died, drowned in the river or eaten by a gator, unable to care for himself.
“What can be done about this giant disease? Is it… curable? Does it pass?”
A shrug from the woman. “You must do what you can for them. The best medicine you can. But many do not return once they have wandered into that twilight.”
Reg nodded slowly in thanks. She looked at Corvin and Damon. “I guess we’d better go back to our boat. If it’s still here. What if the guide thought that something happened to us and left without us?”
“He will still be there,” Corvin assured her. “I told him that we might be a long time. He knows to wait.”
As they turned and headed back to where the boat was waiting, Reg felt the spirits around her closing in. She turned around quickly. They were reaching, grasping, icy fingers brushing against Reg’s skin. They could not take her yet, but they would completely break through her barrier before long. She tried to strengthen it, clutching Corvin by the arm and drawing from his energy.
“We have to stop them!”
“Stop who?”
“All of these ghosts.” Reg gestured, then rolled her eyes, exasperated with having to explain. “They all want to talk. They all want to use me. And I can’t. They would take more than I have to give. Help me to build up the defensive spell.”
Corvin took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. He looked around them, up at the sky, and then around them on the ground. Reg could feel him beginning to weave his spell in with hers, but it was not very strong. It wasn’t going to be enough.
“You have a flame?” Corvin suggested. “That might help.”
Reg conjured fire between her hands almost without effort and coaxed it into a small fire in the middle of one palm. Small and easy to control, so Corvin could focus on and concentrate his energy on strengthening the spell. It lifted Reg’s spirits a little as well. It would keep the icy fingers off of her for a time.
“Thanks.”
Damon was walking ahead of them. He looked back, as if impatient for them to hurry up. But Reg couldn’t move too quickly. She didn’t want the ghosts to sense any haste or fear. No negative emotions that would feed them. She hummed to herself, trying to keep her spirits up. One of the soldiers marched close to her on the right, rattling his saber and making threatening comments toward the others who were around. On her other side walked one of the gangsters, wearing a long coat, a horrible-looking submachine gun cradled in one arm. She could see why no one would have wanted to get too close to the Lost Village while Capone and his men were hiding there.
They got closer to the river and Reg scanned the shore for their little boat. She couldn’t see it. Were they farther away than she had thought? She had spent some time scouting out the village before deciding to talk to the grandmother ghost tending the fire. She probably hadn’t noticed how far she had walked.
There was fog gathering over the water as the sun got lower in the sky. The two put together meant that it was getting darker very quickly. Reg tried not to betray any fear to her traveling companions, but she didn’t like it. She wanted to get back to their boat and out of there.
Along the tree line, lights started to flicker. Reg looked at them. More ghosts? Living beings with lanterns to hold back the night and keep the spirits from chasing them? Was it a vision that only Reg could see, or could the others too?
“What is that?”
Corvin looked toward the lights. “It’s nothing. Just foxfire.”
“Foxfire. What’s that?”
“Nothing you need to worry about. You’re perfectly safe. As long as you stay away from the lights.”
“How do you know it’s foxfire? What does it mean?”
“I’ve seen it before. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just… a phenomenon.”
“Is it because of the ghosts?”
“Perhaps. No one has reliably identified all of the factors. It comes and goes as it will.”
Damon chuckled. “That’s a pun. Will-o’-the-wisp, it’s called.”
“Foxfire? Will-o’-the-wisp? And it’s just… nothing? It’s just there?”
“Don’t be distracted by it,” Corvin said. “Keep going. We need to get to the boat.”
“Where is it? I thought we would be at it by now. We didn’t walk this far when we came, did we?”
“We’ll be there in a minute. It’s just a little farther. It seems longer because of the dusk. And because you are tired. You’ve expended a lot of energy already. Probably more than you realize.”
Which meant she had drawn more than she realized from Corvin as well. He too was tired as he tried to help maintain her shield, even though she knew he didn’t normally do protection spells out in the open. He’d told her they were much more challenging to maintain in an open area than in an enclosed room. She tried to give it a bit more of a boost. The flame in her hands grew, flaring across the faces of all of the ghosts. They fell back, giving her more space.
Then Reg saw the boat.
Chapter Thirty-Two
It would have lifted Reg’s spirits if it had been their boat. But the one she saw was not their little airboat, with the guide waiting patiently for their return. Instead, she saw masts and sails rising up out of the fog. She gasped and held Corvin’s arm more tightly.
“Holy crap!”
Corvin looked at her with concern, and Damon stopped and looked back, waiting for her to come and wondering why she had stopped moving.
“What is it?” Corvin asked.
“You can’t see it?”
“See what?”
“Is it… a ghost ship? You’re telling me you can’t see that?” Reg gestured toward it. Corvin looked in the direction she pointed. Damon turned and looked blindly in that direction.
“A ship?” Corvin repeated. “No. I don’t see a ship. Do you want to show it to me?”
Reg took a deep breath and held it. She tried to push the picture of the ship into Corvin’s mind. Even though he was open to her sharing, there was still a point of resistance, like trying to push it through a tough membrane.
“Can you see it?” she repeated urgently.
Corvin gazed in the direction of the ship. He nodded. “Yes. I can see it. It must be supernatural. There’s nothing like that around these days. Even in museums.”
Damon was the only one who couldn’t see it, but Reg didn’t have the energy to try to show him too.
“What kind of ship?” he demanded. “The water isn’t deep enough for ships.”
“It’s like… a pirate ship,” Reg explained. “The water around here must have been deep enough back then. Before they drained it.”
Corvin nodded his agreement.
“What do we do?” Reg demanded. “I don’t want to… walk into trouble. What if they try to touch us or curse us?”
“I think the best thing to do is just to walk by as if we can’t see it. If they don’t know that we can see it…”
Reg wasn’t sure that would make any difference. But she had asked his opinion and he was more experienced in that type of thing than she was. They kept walking, drawing closer together as a group, pretending that it didn’t tower over them. Reg dragged her feet forward.
She glanced toward the foxfire burning in the trees. Maybe they should stay there, where there was light and it was
safe. She would feel better there with the little green lights than having to walk in the shadow of the ghost ship. She could hear voices calling out over the water. The seamen were shouting to each other. What would they do when they saw her and her company?
It took a lot of energy for a ghost to do anything that affected the corporeal world, but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t do anything. There had been plenty of times as a child when Reg had been terrorized by ghosts, and knowing that they were real and not just something that had come from an overactive imagination didn’t actually help her feel better.
“Do you think… maybe we should just stay away from the water until they go?” Reg suggested.
“Stay on the island?” Corvin gave a bark of laughter and shook his head. “No, we’re going to get off of this island as fast as we can, before anything else happens.”
“But it would be safer over there in the trees. Where there are lights. We can… just stay there, where it is safe, and then when the pirate ship goes away, we could find our boat.”
“No,” Corvin repeated firmly. “Don’t let the ship distract you. Focus on getting to our boat. It’s getting dark and we can’t take the chance of getting confused or misled.”
“Or what?”
“Or nothing. Our boat is just down the shore. Pretend that the ship isn’t even there. Damon can’t see it. Pretend that you can’t see it either. Maybe he can give you a vision where it isn’t there and you’ll feel more comfortable.”
Reg glanced at Damon. “No. I don’t want anything else in my head. Just what’s real.”
“It all depends on your outlook,” Damon said. “If I did, then that would be real to you. It’s real to me. And to anyone else who walks along the shore here. It isn’t really there. It’s just an energy imprint left there long ago. A boat can’t do anything to harm you.”
“The ghosts on board could. I know, I’ve dealt with ghosts before.”
Damon opened his mouth but apparently couldn’t come up with a good argument.
“Just keep moving,” Corvin encouraged, nudging Reg forward. “Let’s go. We’ll be to our boat in a minute.”
Reg heard the waves lapping against the shore as if it were the ocean. She heard a splash and knew that the pirates had just put a small boat in the water. They were coming after her. Reg picked up her pace. She wanted to get to their boat before the pirate ghosts could reach the island. She stumbled over a rock and Corvin held her up.
“It’s okay, Reg,” he told her.
“They’re coming.”
“They won’t hurt you.”
Reg tried to get her uncooperative body to move faster. She felt like she was walking through mud. Her feet were slow and heavy. She needed to hurry to get away from the pirate ghosts. Who knew what they would do if they could reach her? She didn’t want to hear their words. Didn’t want them trying to take over her body or to send messages through her. She didn’t want their thoughts in her head.
“Please… hurry.”
“We’re both here. We’re right with you, Reg.”
Reg was trying to jump over the plants and grasses, bounding like a goat but still feeling like she wasn’t getting any farther ahead. She didn’t want to, but was drawn to look back to see the pirates and how close they were getting. The boat cut through the water toward them but had not gained as much as Reg had feared.
“Come on!”
Then finally, they made it around a corner into a little inlet, and Reg saw the airboat waiting for them.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Go!” Reg encouraged. “There it is. Hurry up.”
She was sure she was still slower than either of the men, but telling them to go faster. If they went any faster, they would leave her behind.
They all hurried as quickly as possible without tripping, which meant that they were going at a quick walk rather than a sprint. They could only go so fast, contending with the marshy ground, clumps of plants, and falling darkness .
They got to the shoreline, and Reg stopped, looking out at the airboat. It was too far for a jump, or at least to be sure of landing on it. And she was afraid of what would happen if she stepped into the water. Once, it wouldn’t have bothered her. So what if she got her feet wet? But since her sirens instincts had been awakened, she couldn’t be sure that they would all be safe if she stepped into the water.
Damon made a running start and jumped, making it just to the edge of the boat and pulling himself farther onboard with the rail. He got out of the way and turned to watch Corvin and Reg.
“Just come,” he insisted, seeing Reg hesitating at the edge of the water.
Corvin plunged into the water, stopping halfway between the waterline and the boat. He reached out for Reg. “Jump.”
“I don’t know if—”
“I’ve got you. Just do it.”
The longer she hesitated over it, the harder it would be for her to make the decision or the jump. Reg closed her eyes briefly, gathered her muscles and, holding her breath, jumped toward the boat.
Corvin caught her clumsily and shoved across and up so that she landed on the steps of the boat, with just one toe dipping into the water. Reg scrambled up and looked back at the pirate ship and the pilot boat, edging nearer.
“Okay. We made it. We can go.”
The guide was watching them, bemused. He shook his head slightly. “You look like you’ve been having fun.”
He turned the key in the ignition as Corvin clambered up onto the boat, soaked from mid-calves down. By the time they were each in their seats, the guide was pulling the boat out and making a large arc to circle back the way they had come.
“You were a long time on the island,” he said conversationally. “I didn’t think there was that much to do there. You get lost?”
Reg shook her head. “No. We were just visiting.”
He squinted at her as if trying to translate what she had said, then shrugged and went back to driving. Reg looked back at the island. The ghost ship, the foxfire, and the island were indistinct. In a few minutes, they would be out of sight.
Damon rubbed his hands briskly as if they were cold. “Well… that was a waste of time. We’re no farther ahead than we were when we started.” He shot a look at Corvin. Coming to the Lost Village had, after all, been his idea. And they had wasted a whole day on it.
“Actually, we’re farther behind than we were on the first day,” Reg said.
The men looked at her, frowning.
“How can we be farther behind?” Corvin asked.
“If the two of you had believed me and listened to me the first day, we wouldn’t have had to go through all of this. We would have had him home by now.”
Damon tried to start a sentence several times, each time only getting an angry syllable or two out before he stalled and tried to say something else.
“What are you talking about, Reg?” Corvin intervened. “Are you saying that you know where he is?”
“Well, not now. But I know where he was the first day. If we’re lucky, he’ll be at the hotel tonight. But we haven’t been that lucky so far, so I don’t really expect him to be.”
She wished she dared to take a picture of the two of them gaping at her in disbelief. But sliding out her phone and snapping a picture of each of them probably wouldn’t make them happy.
“At the hotel?” Damon said finally.
“I don’t know if he was staying there or just came to see the mermaid show last night.”
Damon knew that Corvin and Reg had taken in the mermaid show the night before, but not all of the details. He knew that they had agreed on a course of action without him, which had kind of riled him up, but Reg told him that if he wanted to be in charge, then he shouldn’t have lied to her from the start and he was welcome to go looking for the lost wizard all by himself.
“You saw him last night?” Corvin asked.
“Yeah. We both did. Remember, I showed you the guy that we’d seen at the Skunk Man Saloon the fir
st day?”
Corvin thought about it, but couldn’t be sure. His eyes didn’t light up with recognition.
“I just figured it out when I was talking with the grandmother today,” Reg explained. “I was trying to imagine what Wilson had looked like when she and her granddaughter saw him, starting with the picture you have and then trying to change it by what she said—going bald, with salt and pepper hair. Fatter. Maybe shorter than I had imagined. And I kept trying to develop that farther. What if that was the halfway point. What if he got balder and the rest of his hair went white? What if he put on a little more weight. And I couldn’t get him out of my head. The man we saw at Skunk Man Saloon.”
“Did you talk to him?” Damon asked. He grimaced, trying to recall who had been there. But he had clearly discounted everyone else he had seen and had only been focused on Reg and Corvin and getting his dinner. He wanted to get on his way and start looking for the missing wizard in earnest. He didn’t believe that Reg had been able to find him with her powers. He had only wanted to hurry out of there to get started on the real search.
“No. I don’t think so. Maybe pleasantries,” Reg explained. “But it was him. He was sitting right there next to us. Just like I had told you.”
“You didn’t know where he was when we got off the boat.”
“Maybe it was because he was too close. I don’t know. But he was there. I took you right to him the first day.”
Damon shook his head slowly in disbelief.
“You were right too,” Reg pointed out. “You’re the only one who really believed that he was still alive.”
Damon looked only slightly mollified by this. “I was, wasn’t I?”
“Why didn’t he ever go home?” Corvin asked. “Why didn’t he leave the Everglades? He didn’t look like anyone was keeping him here, physically or under some spell. The man you pointed out… he just looked like a tourist.”
Skunk Man Swamp Page 17
