“It still doesn’t ring a bell,” I said with a shrug. “Wait! Didn’t the Cavalier Building also have a café?”
“Yeah, I think so. On the main floor.”
“They had really good poutine.”
“Of course you remember that,” Harold said.
“The Wisp must’ve chosen this location because those three ghosts are already here,” Leda said. “With their help, she’ll be able to use the Citadel as a portal from the Netherrealm into this world and summon even more ghosts.”
“Well, then,” I said, tightening my grip on the plastic bag full of salt, “what are we waiting for?”
***
Harold and I paid the youth rate to get in. I almost asked to buy an adult ticket for Leda.
“What’s in the bags?” the teenage ticket seller said from inside his booth.
“Oh, these? Salt, nothing but salt,” I said, trying to sound like it wasn’t weird at all that Harold and I were carrying bags of salt. “We had to do some grocery shopping before coming here. You know, for our parents.”
“Yup,” Harold added. “They wanted salt, and it couldn’t wait.”
I cringed and then widened my smile, hoping I looked trustworthy and pleasant but fearing I might look like a crazy person. Harold was not cut out for lying, not even white lies.
“That’s a lot of salt,” the ticket guy said. His eyes were half closed and he looked like he might fall asleep at any moment. “Place is pretty much empty, probably ’cause of the fog, so at least you won’t have to worry about bumping into anyone with your … salt. Anyway, enjoy your visit.” He waved us through.
We walked far enough away from the ticket booth so that we wouldn’t be overheard. Like the ticket guy had said, the place was empty. No tourists, no ghosts and no Wisp that we could see.
“So,” I said, “where do you think those three ghosts might be?”
He shrugged. “No idea. They could be anywhere.”
“Should we split up?” Leda asked. “There are three of us and three of them. We might find them faster that way.”
I shook my head. “I think it would be safer to stick together. We don’t really know what we’re up against.” And the thought of creeping around alone in a fog-filled haunted fort was not appealing, but I kept that to myself.
“Why don’t we start by looking in the Cavalier Building?” Harold suggested.
It was as good a place as any. The building — a large, rectangular, three-storey structure — emerged through the fog as we crossed the courtyard. We stepped inside the café and my mouth watered as the smell of fresh-baked cookies wafted under my nose. The lights were all on but the room had a bleak feeling, thanks to the fog pressing up against the windows. There was an elderly woman working behind the counter and four adults sipping hot drinks at a table beside a large old map of the fort, but otherwise the café was empty. The fog really had kept most people away, which was a lucky break.
“Can I get you dearies anything?” the woman behind the counter asked with an English accent. Her nametag read MAGGIE.
“No,” I said, wishing I had time for a quick poutine, “we’re okay. But I don’t suppose …” I trailed off, wondering how to ask what I’d wanted to ask.
Before I finished the thought, Maggie said, “Ghosts, love. I believe you’ve come to see the ghosts.”
I was stunned. “How did you know?”
“Every other day we get a group come in asking the same thing. Let me guess: Jeremy Sinclair?”
“Hunh?” I asked, wishing I could’ve thought of something more intelligent to say.
“He’s an author, love. If it wasn’t one of his books, I suppose you read about the Citadel being haunted online and decided to come see for yourself.”
I nodded quickly. “Yes, that’s right.”
“Well, if you’re looking for the Grey Lady, she’s usually spotted upstairs, in the Army Museum. It’s self-guided so you’ll have the place to yourselves. I don’t put much stock in ghosts myself — never have seen one — but you two kids have a good time searching for Slimer.” She flashed an incredibly warm smile that seemed to brighten the room a little.
Two of the adults at the table chuckled. They’d stopped talking and were listening to us. If they knew the truth of the situation I doubted they’d be laughing, but I wasn’t about to fill them in. That would get us a one-way ticket out of the fort.
I thanked Maggie — she smiled again — and followed Harold up the stairs to the second floor. Leda stayed close behind me.
“I don’t know what’s so funny about ghosts,” she said, sounding a little hurt.
“Don’t take it personally,” I said. “Maybe they’re better off not knowing the truth. My mother always used to say ‘Ignorance is bliss.’”
“Used to?” Leda asked.
I’d forgotten she didn’t know. “My parents died two years ago. Car crash.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Hey,” I said on a whim. “If you ever meet a Scott and Shannon Vanstone from Wolfville …” I trailed off as I realized how ridiculous what I’d been asking was. Did I really think Leda might accidentally bump into my parents?
Leda seemed to pick up on what I’d left unsaid. “If I ever meet them, I’ll tell them they have an incredible daughter who loves them very much.” She smiled warmly.
I knew she was humouring me a little, but I didn’t mind. Her kindness made me feel good, and I smiled back.
Harold opened a door and we walked into the museum. It was one long room with hardwood floors and a rounded, white ceiling. Military relics and replicas — medals, war souvenirs, a model of the Vimy Ridge Memorial, a giant cone-shaped bugler’s megaphone — filled the space.
I flinched. A man stared us down from within a glass display cabinet. He wore a military uniform and had creepy, dead-looking eyes. I thought for a second or two that it was a ghost, but it turned out to be a mannequin.
“He freaked me out,” I said.
“Oh, don’t be afraid of him,” a voice as smooth as silk said from the far end of the room.
It was the Grey Lady.
“Be afraid of me.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
She looked like a shadow come to life, only she wasn’t alive.
“Can you see her?” I whispered to Harold.
“Yeah, I can see her,” he whispered back.
Her dress was made of faded grey fabric. It was old-fashioned with a high collar, ruffled sleeves and lace at the neckline and hem. But it wasn’t the only thing grey about her. Her complexion was ashen, the same colour as an overcast sky, and only a little lighter than her clothes. Her face was so bony that it almost looked like a skull stripped of flesh and wrapped in a thin layer of flayed skin. Pinned on top of her head was a nest of dark hair, black as coal.
I didn’t dare reach for the salt. I was afraid that the Grey Lady would lash out the moment I did.
Maybe I could buy us some time by talking while we waited for an opening to strike.
“We’re not afraid of you,” I said in a deep voice. It would’ve been great to have a Ghost Box piercing, like in Kill Screen, but A, my grandmother would have never let me pierce my tongue, not in a million years, and B, this wasn’t a video game and Ghost Boxes didn’t exist. “And you shouldn’t be afraid of us. We are not your enemy.”
If the sound of my voice had any effect on her, she didn’t show it. She drifted around the room as I spoke, keeping her distance but rarely looking at me. Then she stopped moving and looked at me again.
“Really? We’re not enemies? Then tell me, why are you here?”
“We’re here to stop a spirit called the Wisp,” I said. There was no point lying — I had a feeling she already knew the truth.
“Heavens no, that simply won’t do,” she said.
“Have you met her?” Harold said. “Is she here?”
“Yes, I’ve met her, and yes, she’s here,” the Grey Lady said, confirming what I suspected.
“Where is she?” I demanded.
“I’ll never tell,” she whispered in a singsong voice.
“She means to release every evil ghost from the Netherrealm to kill the living,” Leda said impatiently.
“And why should you, as a fellow ghost, be opposed to that?” the Grey Lady said, replacing her sweet tone with a hint of venom.
“Once she has killed everyone, she’ll be in complete control. She’ll reap every last soul and do who-knows-what to us. How can you not be opposed to that?”
“Simple.” The Grey Lady straightened her dress and checked her reflection in the glass of a display case. She pulled her lips back and examined her teeth, running her tongue over each one, then blew herself a kiss and, satisfied with her appearance, turned back to us. “My groom died in this building, so I chose to join him, to be together again … for all eternity. But he was gone. If I help the Wisp, she promised to reunite us. We can be together forever.”
The Wisp can do that? I wondered in awe.
The Grey Lady clasped her hands together and started to approach us slowly. She stepped one foot forward, paused briefly, stepped her other foot forward and then repeated the movement.
“He died a long time ago,” she continued. “November 17, 1900, to be exact. But it feels like yesterday. It was our wedding day.”
She continued to walk in her odd, jarring fashion. At first I thought it was some sort of military march, but then it dawned on me. She was walking as if the museum was a church aisle and she was approaching her groom.
Her voice was once again soft and sweet, but I didn’t trust her tone at all. It made my skin crawl. “I was beginning to lose hope, but then the Wisp arrived today and told me she could find him and bring him back to me. She’s preparing for the summoning now. And I can’t let you interfere.”
The Grey Lady suddenly sped up, faster than I’d ever seen anyone move — living or dead. It was as if she could somehow pass through space or time. She wrapped one of her arms around Leda’s neck and dragged her out of our reach.
She yelled when she spoke next, so loud and powerful that I could feel vibrations in the air and my eardrums pulsed with every word. “The Wisp warned me about ghosts like you! She said there’d be those who try to stop us from completing our task. But I’m not concerned, because she also told me something else.”
Leda groaned as the Grey Lady yanked her head backwards and put her mouth beside Leda’s ear. The Grey Lady spoke in a stage whisper, watching Harold and me as she did. She wanted us to hear her.
“The Wisp told me how to kill another ghost. I didn’t think that was possible. How can you kill something that’s already dead? But I’m curious.” She smiled at us and her teeth gleamed, bright white points amidst her greyness. “Let’s find out if it works, shall we?”
CHAPTER TWENTY
I took a step forward, ready to tackle the Grey Lady if I needed to.
“Stay back!” she shouted. “Or I’ll make this as painful for her as possible.”
I froze.
“Good girl. And don’t even think about reaching into that bag of yours. You too, boy.” She cast a glance at Harold. “Don’t think I haven’t seen the way you’ve both been looking down at them. You must have something you think is pretty powerful. Let me guess. Salt?”
I shrugged and nodded. I didn’t see any reason to lie.
“Drop them,” the Grey Lady said.
Harold and I both hesitated for a moment, but then I sighed and dropped my bag to the floor. Harold did the same.
“Good.” She moved her gaze from us to Leda. “Now it’s time for you to die a second death.” She closed her eyes, placed her free hand on top of Leda’s head, and began to chant in the same language that had summoned the Wisp after I’d beat Kill Screen.
I scanned the museum, hoping to find a miracle.
My eyes landed on a megaphone, the same one I’d spotted when we first walked into the museum. It was huge, as long as a bike and with a mouth as wide as a hula hoop.
It wasn’t a Ghost Box, but it was worth a shot. I bent under the red rope, stepped behind the megaphone, put both hands on its sides to brace myself, and pressed my lips right up against the mouthpiece. And then I yelled.
“RELEASE HER THIS INSTANT!”
My entire body tensed as the sound reverberated through it. My ears rang painfully and I groaned as I stumbled back from the megaphone. My voice continued to echo throughout the small room.
It worked. The Grey Lady shrieked and her skin rippled and shimmered from the sound waves. She released Leda and staggered backwards without taking her eyes off me. My voice had the same impact on Leda but at least she was free.
I had no idea how long we had before the effect wore off so I grabbed a box of salt, took a few quick strides forward and shook some of the salt in the Grey Lady’s face while she was distracted. She shrieked and retreated further, her grey skin sizzling and smoking where she’d been hit by the salt, but she still didn’t disappear entirely. My mind raced but I couldn’t think what else to do.
Fortunately, Harold didn’t waste any time. Faster than I’d ever seen him move, he grabbed a large metal wrench from a display and ran to my side. He swung it two-handed, like a baseball bat. It passed straight through the Grey Lady’s face, making her head dissolve into tiny glittering specks of dust that swirled in the air. The sound of her scream continued to be heard even though she no longer had a mouth to scream out of, and the rest of her body fell apart and followed her head dust — first up into the air, then in a loop, and finally straight down through the floor where she’d stood.
Suddenly the museum sounded unnaturally quiet.
I laughed and leapt at Harold, giving him a tight hug. “You did it!”
Harold’s eyes were wide and his mouth hung open, as if he was in shock. “Did I?”
“Yes! Well, I stunned her, but you … you smacked her with the wrench and sent her … wherever she went.”
“Yeah, I guess I did,” Harold said as his bewildered look was slowly replaced with a proud smile. He tossed the wrench end over end in the air and caught it. It nearly clipped Leda’s nose.
“Whoa!” she yelled as she raised her hands in front of her face and stepped back.
Harold grimaced. “Sorry-sorry-sorry!” he said, the three words fused together into one. Then, just for good measure, he added, “Sorry.”
“It’s all right,” Leda said. “Just … watch where you point that thing, okay?”
“Of course, of course.”
Once they’d both calmed down, our attention fell to the spot where the Grey Lady had disappeared through the floor.
“Is she …?” Harold asked.
“Um, dead?” I said. “I don’t know. I don’t think so, but I have a feeling that if she’s not gone for good, she won’t be back anytime soon.”
“Let’s hope you’re right,” Leda said.
“Why did this even work?” Harold asked, looking at the wrench in his hands.
There was a small sign on the display shelf where Harold had grabbed the wrench. I pointed at the sign and said, “That’s a tank wrench. Says here it’s made of iron.” I smiled. “And just like salt, iron is one of the types of ammunition the Soul Burner fires in Kill Screen!”
“You weren’t kidding when you told us you did a lot of research,” Harold told Leda.
Leda nodded, but her eyes had a faraway look. “I wish we had my notebook. It might help us figure out what to do next.”
I smiled and pulled the notebook out of my pocket.
“Flip to the end!” Leda said excitedly. “I think the last thing I wrote about was how the Wisp can summon other ghosts.”
I turned to the final page, quickly scanned it and read the second-last paragraph aloud.
Summoning
Great deal of energy needed (even for an entity as powerful as the Wisp!).
Steps:
- Summoning spirit needs to be hidden to avoid interruptions.
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- Needs to be near a spirit portal, some place a ghost can already pass through.
- Then will put their mind into higher state of thought and cognition (like meditation). Might take two or three hours, maybe more.
- Summoning words need to be recited to “open the gate” (for lack of a better term).
- Finally, a noise loud enough to be heard down in the depths of the Netherrealm needs to be created, signalling to all that it is time to rise.
And then I read the final paragraph.
If this is allowed to happen … game over.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Game over. The final two words in Leda’s notebook switched on the gamer in me. My heart beat a little faster and my fingers twitched, pressing invisible buttons. I had to beat the Wisp.
It was only a game.
A game in which the villains were ghosts, and they were very, very real. A game that I couldn’t lose or everyone in the world would die.
Yeah, only a game.
I took a deep breath and looked at Harold. His face was pale, his forehead was beaded in sweat and his eyes were shut tight.
“Harold?” I said.
He didn’t respond.
“Harold!”
His eyes flew open and took a moment to focus.
“Together, the three of us can beat the Wisp,” I said. “But I need you to stay calm, Harold. We all need to be on our A game.”
“I know,” Harold said with a nod. “I’m fine.”
“You know more about this fort than Evie and I,” Leda told Harold. “Do you have any idea where the Wisp might be hiding? Take your time.”
But not too much time, I thought. “Anything will help. Anything at all.”
“Well,” Harold said, pausing for a moment. “Your notes said she needs to be near a spirit portal — which is, what? A spot where someone died and became a ghost?”
Kill Screen Page 6
