Now to get down to business.
The ghosts hovered around me, their faded and shimmering clothes and hair whipping violently in wind blowing across the land of the dead and through me like a violent storm, but though the ghosts were curious, they kept their distance. My gaze skittered over the female ghost who’d smiled at me, and I reached out toward her, palm up, arm extended. She stared at me, and then ever so slowly, floated forward to take my hand. As soon she touched me, I pushed the grave essence mingled with my magic and life into her. I’d manifested Roy several times over the last month. Usual y I siphoned only enough power into him to make him visible, occasional y tangible, but this ghost I poured magic into, like I had that night under the Blood Moon.
“What is that? Is that a tear?” one of the skimmers asked.
“What is that? Is that a tear?” one of the skimmers asked.
“It looks different,” another said.
“It looks human shaped,” said a third.
The swarm of ghosts realized what I was doing before the skimmers did. As the woman’s form fil ed out, her dress blooming to a deep burgundy and her hair darkening, the other ghosts swarmed forward.
“Help me,” I pleaded to her as I released her hand.
I’d fil ed her with my own life force as wel as my magic, but I couldn’t compel ghosts. They didn’t have to obey me. I couldn’t make them.
But this time I got lucky.
As the other ghosts closed in around me, I saw the woman rush toward the goons. Screams fil ed the room, but I couldn’t see beyond the press of shimmering bodies surrounding me. The ghosts reached for me, their translucent fingers clawing at me as they al tried to touch my skin, my power. And I gave it to them.
My magic poured out of me, into the greedy, spectral hands, and each ghost that touched me became more solid, more real. None manifested as forceful y as the first woman, but they crossed over enough to be wel and true poltergeists.
Chaos erupted as the now visible ghosts took ful advantage of their mostly corporeal state. They rushed at the skimmers, and screams shook the underground space.
The pudgy skimmer I’d spoken to before I reached the mausoleum turned sheet white and hit the ground in a faint.
Tw o other skimmers scrambled over him as they fled toward the stairs.
The ghosts howled and laughed and screamed as they soared around the room, knocking beds askew, tossing things against the wal s, and shoving skimmers. Some were actual y trying to help me, but most did it just because they could. That was just fine with me. It worked. The skimmers were scattering, the ghosts giving chase.
A gunshot sounded, deafening in the tight underground A gunshot sounded, deafening in the tight underground space, and I hit the floor, crouching over PC, who gave a terrified yip. A second, then a third, and a fourth shot banged through the room, and as I hadn’t been hit yet, I chanced a look up.
Both goons had pul ed guns and were emptying their clips into the ghosts. But you can’t kil what’s already dead.
The ricochet off the concrete wal s could do some damage to the living, though. Time to get out of here.
Bel was the only one watching as I dashed for the stairwel , but his bel owing yel s were lost in the chaos. I was stil straddling the land of the dead, which made the stairs treacherous. Several of the steps crumbled under my feet as I ran, and I knew I was doing real damage, but I didn’t care. I burst out of the mausoleum.
Up in the graveyard proper, ghosts were chasing the skimmers who’d fled. If the skimmers had run for the gates, the ghosts wouldn’t have been able to fol ow, but either they didn’t know that or they were too frightened to realize which direction was out. Instead they dashed around tombstones, tripping over grave markers, while the half-manifested specters fol owed close behind.
PC was like a furnace against my chest as I ran. I was cold. Real y cold, and the chil stil sank into my skin from al sides. But I didn’t dare release my touch on the grave yet.
I made a dash for the gates, but stopped just short of rushing through them. If I crossed those gates, I might not be able to reclaim my heat. I couldn’t afford to leave a chunk of my life force behind.
Turning, I reached for my power. The mausoleum was on the opposite side of the cemetery, ghosts stil underneath and others spread across the large graveyard. I’d never tried to use my power to reach across a distance anywhere near that far. Not that I had a lot of choice. I found my heat, my power, and I pul ed. It fol owed the wel -worn path through my psyche back into my body, which did little but make me feel even colder. I slammed my shields shut, make me feel even colder. I slammed my shields shut, blocking the essence stil clawing at me. Then I turned and ran on shaky legs out of the graveyard.
Chapter 28