Lost Souls

by A. C. Nicholls

  Loctis gripped his hands, but I’d noticed a slight tremble before he could stop it. “In Chicago?”

  “Yes.”

  “And did you communicate with these beings?”

  “You mean, like with a Ouija board?”

  “No.” He gave his head a violent shake. “I mean, did you engage with them physically?”

  I instantly conjured old memories of when I had encountered these spirits. Back when I was mortal, we would have called them ghosts. Everybody had claimed to see one at some point or another, but I actually once did see one. In fact, I had spoken to it as if it were human. “I have seen them in their physical form, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “I see,” Loctis said. “And are you… afraid?”

  “As much as the next person. Look, what’s going on?”

  Our eyes met and Loctis sat back, his breath coming in belabored pants. I had never seen him as nervous as he looked right now. Petrified. “A number of these spirits are wreaking havoc all over Chicago. They’ve been terrorizing civilians, knocking them around and hurting them.”

  “Aggressive spirits?” I shook my head. In spite of their hostile reputations, spirits didn’t tend to cause much trouble. We have Bill Murray and Harold Ramis to thank for that misconception. “How unusual. And these apparitions are visible?”

  “Some, yes.”

  Link, even with his recent positive steps toward bravery, moved closer to me. He tucked his wings behind his back and climbed into my robe, poking his head out of the gap between the buttons. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t have to. I knew how much he hated spirits – or anything to do with the afterlife.

  “Where, exactly, have these specters been appearing?” I asked.

  “All over Lincoln Park.”

  “But mostly?”

  “Mostly the old buildings,” Loctis said. “Your local library, for one.”

  I nodded, mentally noting it as an important piece of information. If I were to help him understand the reason for this outbreak, the library was key. “Why do you seem so afraid? Do you not like spirits?”

  Loctis smiled thinly, but he wasn’t fooling me. “This is the biggest wave of the undead that we’ve ever seen. Things like this don’t happen without good reason. And… well, that is where you come in.”

  My mouth went dry all of a sudden. “What do I have to do with all of this?”

  Loctis licked his lips, wrung his hands, and then placed them on the table. “Nothing, yet. I was hoping… Lady Keira, would you be so kind as to investigate these appearances on my behalf? I would do it myself, only–”

  “Only you thought it a task best suited to a Cardkeeper.”

  “Precisely.”

  I felt Link stirring within my robe. Don’t worry, I thought. I’m scared too.

  “Once I’ve investigated, what happens next?”

  Loctis set down his cup and stood. He then stretched his back and began to pace the room, shooting occasional glances my way. “People are being hurt all over the city. Just last week, a young girl was pulled away from her mother.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “Don’t worry. The girl wasn’t harmed. But you can imagine the shock it gave to both her and the mother.” Loctis stopped pacing and sighed. “If at all possible, I would very much like you to put a stop to these spirits, before they cause any more grief.”

  I shifted in my seat. “How?”

  “That, I do not know. However, I trust your abilities and know that if anybody can bring these undead apparitions to a stop, it is you. Will you do it, Lady Keira, for the good of Chicago, the people, and your Vault?”

  Hmm… a straight shot right to my Achilles’ heel. The way I saw it, Chicago was mine to protect. Whether that be from mages, vampires or spirits, it made no difference. Trouble was trouble, and I didn’t like it in my city.

  As if I needed further encouragement, Loctis returned to the table while reaching into his robe, and produced a set of three magicards. Each one glowed as if the souls of the mages were pulsing through. He put them on the table.

  “These are yours when the job is done,” he said.

  I looked down at the cards, slowly reaching out to touch one, but my mind drifted elsewhere. I withdrew my hand, reminding myself of the danger, and stared up at Loctis. “Where did these come from?”

  “I happened upon them during my studies in Cambodia. I met a witchdoctor who was in possession of them. Ask me not how he came across them to begin with, but he thought they were cursed items. When I offered to take them from his hands, he gratefully accepted.”

  “Thank you for bringing them to me.”

  Loctis waved a hand over them, scooping them up like a suave casino dealer. “Deal with these spirits, my dear, and these magicards will be yours.”

  “Oh.”

  I supposed it was worth keeping the magicards in the Vault. If they were out on the street, I imagined they would end up in a mage’s hands sooner or later, and that would only cause more trouble for me. As much as I hated the idea of facing a pack of disgruntled spirits, this was a good enough reason to do so. It was for the greater good.

  Smiling, I stood and extended my hand. “It’s a deal.”

  Loctis took my hand in both of his, gripping tight and shaking hard. “Thank you so much, Lady Keira. I knew I could count on you to do the right thing. But please, take caution when approaching these spirits. They are every bit as violent as they sound, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  I ruminated on his last sentence. Loctis was more than aware of my strength, and even more so of the magic I could perform. If he was warning me, the spirits must be even more aggressive than he’d described. If that was true, what had I just gotten myself into?

  Chapter Four

  I arrived at the library in the middle of the day, with Link hidden in the hood of my jacket and a plan to stay there for as long as I had to. I had a bag of snacks, a friend to talk to, and unlimited reading material. If I had to wait the spirit out, I had come prepared.

  The building sat on the corner of a litter-paved neighborhood, its ugly and brown brick exterior a dull-looking façade with not so much as a hint of color to brighten it up. No wonder the kids of today weren’t reading – if the libraries didn’t give a damn, why should they?

  Grieved by my high standards in architecture, I padded up the steps and went inside. A reception area sat just to my left, and the rest of the room opened up to my right. As libraries went, this one seemed tiny with poorly utilized space within a huge building. The shelves only reached head-height and there were plenty of open spaces. That would work in my favor, if I had to defend myself. But using my magic in front of civilians would only come as a last resort.

  “Can I help you?”

  I started and turned to the receptionist; a petite, kind-looking lady with white hair and a taste for silver jewelry. She smiled as she awaited a response, and I rushed to give her one. “Oh. Um… okay. I just wanted somewhere quiet to read, if that’s all right.”

  “Of course. The quietest area we have is near the back, by the historical section. Beside that is a cordoned-off area.” She waved a hand to the back of the long room, then leaned over her desk and lowered her voice. “Try to stay away from there, okay?”

  I surrendered to intrigue. “How come?”

  “Oh, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  It felt like I needed to encourage this old lady to gossip. I tried to think of a neutral sentence – one that gave her enough of a hint to talk freely, but could also be dismissed if I had misunderstood. “The ghost section, right?”

  Her eyes widened, and her smile with it.

  That told me everything I needed to know.

  “That area is shut down?” I pushed. “Why? What happened?”

  The lady removed her glasses and set them to one side. The phone at her desk began to ring, but she lifted the receiver and dropped it to end the call. I had never seen someone so eager to talk. “Mr
. Salisbury stopped by the other day. He took to that section and was minding his own business, when books started to fly from the shelves.”

  I smiled, thinking of the scene in Ghostbusters, where the same thing had happened. “That’s it? A few books leap from their shelves and then that section got shut down? Seems a bit… dramatic, doesn’t it?”

  “Oh, that wasn’t all!”

  “No?”

  “No. That was just the first thing.”

  I leaned into the desk, getting comfortable.

  “Mr. Salisbury knelt to pick up the books, and when he did, something picked him up by his collar. Hauled him to his feet, it did. I’m telling you,” the old woman checked over her shoulders, should someone overhear and think she was nuts, “it was a ghost.”

  I had heard plenty of stories about ‘ghosts’ over the years, and this one was no different. It was always the same thing; either some objects being moved around the house or going missing, or an angry ghost who bangs on doors and pushes people around. These days, nobody had any imagination. Even the word ghost made me roll my eyes.

  “Well,” I said, smiling, “if I bump into Mr. Salisbury, I will be sure to quiz him further.” I pulled my bag strap further onto my shoulder and began to walk away, when the next words I heard stopped me in my tracks.

  “I don’t think you will,” said the lady. “He’s dead.”

  My body became rigid as I peeked over my shoulder. “Excuse me?”

  The lady shook her head. “Whatever was down that aisle – whatever the reason – it strangled that poor man to death. And guess who found him, laying there on that mountain of books?”

  “You?”

  “Me!”

  I stared at the desk, drifting off as my imagination carried me. Her story was so unbelievable that I could actually believe it. After what Loctis had told me, this seemed way within the realms of possibility.

  “There were strangle marks?” I asked.

  The lady avoided my gaze. “Well… no, but…”

  “So then, what was the official cause of death?”

  “Heart failure, but–”

  “A man dies of heart failure and you blame the ghost?”

  The woman shifted, sliding her glasses back onto her face. “I am the assistant manager, and I saw it fit to assume that the two incidents were related. I just didn’t want anyone else to suffer the same fate, is all.”

  There was every possibility that the woman was right, but I reserved room for doubt. If a spirit was acting out, it was usually a personal matter – a grudge against an individual or a certain type of person. At this point, anyone could have been a target.

  “Thank you,” I said, and continued on.

  “Be careful.”

  I will.

  With this new information, I made my way to the back of the library. When I reached the cordoned-off area, the first thing I noticed was that half of the lights in that section were switched off. The other half flickered, as if their bulbs weren’t screwed in properly. A rope tied off the aisle, warning off any wandering readers.

  I reached for the hook, unclipped it and passed through.

  “Whoa, whoa – wait,” Link hissed from my hood. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m investigating the site.”

  “Can’t you just look from the safe area?”

  “Oh, grow a pair, why don’t you?” I reattached the hook from the other side, and caught a glance of an elderly man staring at me, realizing it appeared I’d been talking to myself. I gave him a smile and an exaggerated bow, then ventured deeper into the dark, haunted section.

  I pulled a book from the shelf, sat down and spread it open onto my lap. I read for hours, my eye catching every little movement in the library. I jumped at the slightest noise. I wasn’t even ingesting the words I was reading. Some chick named Lady Luck with a chip on her shoulder about something or other and hell-bent on revenge killing.

  It was a long, painful wait, but at least I had snacks to sustain me. Or so I’d thought, until I found a crumple of empty wrappers in the bag I’d brought with me. My accusing eyes went straight to Link.

  “What?” he said, burping into his fist. “Faeries need energy too, you know.”

  “This much?” I held up the bags, furious and starving.

  “I was hungry.”

  “Link, you’re five inches tall. How can you even fit–”

  A scratching sound from beside me blew through the area, making me jump out of my skin. I shot around to investigate, but saw nothing other than a fallen pile of books. I stared at them, waiting for them to move again. Waiting for more to join them.

  They didn’t.

  Link scurried over and leapt into my bag, hiding once again. I didn’t mind. As long as he was there for me when it counted, I wouldn’t give him too much of a hard time.

  I settled in again, picking the book back up and getting ready to continue my reading. This time, as soon as I sprawled the pages out before me, I saw it.

  At the end of the aisle, a book slid across the carpeted floor, dragging itself with a scuffing sound. The hairs on the back of my neck pricked up, but I had to be brave. Had to remind myself that I had a lot of magic at my disposal.

  As if that would help.

  “Link,” I said. “Did you…”

  “Yeah.”

  I stood. “You coming?”

  Link just sank deeper into the bag.

  “Fine.” I left the bag where it was and followed the self-moving book around the corner. When I spotted it, I reared back and hissed in a ragged breath. An object was suspended in mid-air. In a wide aisle between two large bookcases was a globe. It twirled as if by itself. I stepped closer, readying the fire magic within me. I didn’t know if I would need it, but I wasn’t going to approach this anomaly unarmed. No way.

  As I got closer, I began to discern the outline of a person beside the globe. It was a tall figure, hunched over and tapping the globe as it spun, sending it rotating faster. It squealed on its hinge as it went, playing on my anxiety.

  Desperate, I tried talking to it.

  “Hello?” I said, then added, “Do you need help?”

  Chilling me to my very bone, the figure turned. I could make out just enough to gauge its direction, and when I did, my blood turned to ice in my veins. It came my way, drifting slowly, growing taller as it approached.

  Screw this, I thought as I summoned a ball of fire into my hand. I didn’t know if it would hurt this spirit, but I knew for sure that it would do a damn sight more than something physical. Elemental magic always worked better on the supernatural.

  The spirit must have seen it as a threat.

  In the blink of an eye, it rushed toward me. I froze, stiffening up and wondering what would happen, when its palms drove into my chest. I felt the impact straight away, a wild burn searing through me. My feet came off the ground as I soared back, knocking down shelf after shelf as I went tumbling into the bookcases.

  I heard the screams of the civilians, followed by their feet hitting the floor as they ran to safety. Lucky them, I thought, pushing myself up off the piles of fallen books. I looked around at the damage; I’d been sent through five bookshelves, each one connecting with the other and toppling them in a domino effect.

  “Shit.”

  So much for not upsetting the library patrons. Conjuring a hot burst of flame into my hand, I climbed to my knees and turned toward the spirit. It rushed at me, its transparent body flying my way like a charging bull. All I could do was steady myself, add heat to the growing fire in my hand, and expect the fight of a lifetime.

  Chapter Five

  I lunged forward, eagerly attacking my foe. I jutted out my hand and shot a blast of fire at the spirit, but when my fiery weapon phased right through and set fire to a bookshelf, I cursed. The spirit itself disappeared, and I had a feeling that it hadn’t fled just yet.

  Behind me, the screams continued as the li
brary cleared itself of citizens. It was for the best – I didn’t want anyone hurt and I definitely didn’t want anyone to see me hurling fireballs around the place. That might raise a question or two.

  “All right,” I said, talking to myself while I looked around for my enemy. “You’ve got this, Keira. Just stay calm and–”

  It came from nowhere. The spirit materialized in front of me, lifted me up by my shirt and tossed me across the room like I was made of paper. I landed on my back, in the middle of an open area where there was plenty of floor space.

  “Ouch.”

  I winced and climbed to my feet, but by the time I was halfway to my knees, the spirit came at me again. This time it took me by the throat, dragging me up into the air and toward the ceiling fan. I fought for breath, feeling hot blood rush to my face as the spirit choked me. The ceiling fan ground to a halt as it hit my head, blade by blade, but it had no effect on me – my immortal skin was too thick, something the spirit hadn’t counted on. Desperate for air, I wrapped my hand around its arm. I couldn’t see the creature as it choked me, but I figured that if I could feel its hand around my throat, there was a chance it could feel me too – feel pain. I squeezed my hand, sending heat through my palm and into the invisible arm of the spirit.

  It howled in agony and released its grip.

  I hit the ground, quickly recovered and looked around for the spirit. I couldn’t see it – it could be anywhere in this room – but I did see Link climbing out of the bag I’d left him in. I watched as he spread his wings, took off, and headed for a room in the back.

  Please don’t leave me.

  A ghostly grunt interrupted my thoughts. The spirit struck me once again, knocking me back toward the wall while I’d been distracted. This was impossible. How was I supposed to fight what I couldn’t even see?

  Luckily, I landed on my feet. I had to organize myself – stop being sloppy. As fast as I could, I summoned a streak of fire into each hand, let it build up inside me, and then unleashed it against the air. I waved my arms slowly, my hands working like flamethrowers. I didn’t know where this son of a bitch was, but he must have been close.