Just wanted to address a question that a guest left on the previous chapter regarding Lucy and Anthony's relationship status in my headcanon. In my world here on Adamantium Dragonfly, they have both accepted that they have feelings for each other but because of the nature of their professions and the reemergence of the Problem, they have placed any continuing relationship on hold.
TL: DR- They love each other but they paused their relationship cuz they got ghosts to stop.
Our hotel room overlooked The Seine, the river glowed silver in the moonlight as the orb climbed higher in the inky-black sky. We would have to leave soon.
Ghost lights had been hastily erected along the streets to cast the illusion of safety but even now at twilight, a faint mist curled with Other Light.
I turned to face the pale-faced spectors behind me, their guises all crooked work belts and fuzzy wool sweaters beneath eyes bright with fear. Asha and Jane looked ready to keel over from fright.
Pity and sympathy wormed into my heart and I had to suppress a small smile.
"Asha, your work belt is crooked," I said softly. "Would you like me to fix it?"
The little mouse nodded and stood. I adjusted the buckles with expert tugs and looked up into her eyes.
"My first case was on a night like this," I whispered. I don't know what to possessed me to say that but Jane looked intrigued. "How did it go?"
" I left my house all bundled up in sweaters. I could hardly move there were so many. Every time I tried to draw my rapier, I nearly fell over."
The girls allowed themselves a giggle.
"Mr. Lockwood says you lost your first team," Asha said. Her Welsh lilt was high and flowing, barely audible.
"I did." I looked down at my hands, pressing them in a tight clasp to keep them from trembling.
"Do you miss them?" Asha pressed. Jane gasped. "Stop urging her, Asha! Don't you see it makes Ms. Carlyle upset."
I smiled thinly. "It's fine, Jane. And yes, Asha, I do miss them but I wouldn't wish them back."
"What?" Jane gasped again (she was very good at it). "Why?"
"Their death taught me a valuable lesson." I stood, brushing non-existent fluff off my skirt. "To trust my talent above all else."
A knock on the door told me Lockwood and Seamus were ready. I waved my charges through the door.
The Problem's reemergence in France had come with a few surprises. The visitors here were twice as powerful and most alarming of all, almost the entire population could see them.
A thirty-year-old had reported a full specter in his living room. A young mother said she heard a woman singing to her baby when she was alone in the house. The infant was found dead in its crib.
Barnes had told us to proceed carefully. He was talking to Lockwood and me, as we were now past our agent prime but i was more concerned for the kids. Lockwood and I had experience, they had sharply tuned talents with no idea how to use them.
Lockwood had been given a list of the most urgent and deadly hauntings. We would have to go systematically through them all, stamping out each in turn.
First was a senator's home haunted by a ragged woman which had already killed two hired maids.
The senator's townhome was a building that had been passed down by each member of office and could hold more than a few secrets. We had been given a folder with all of the information past and present compiled by a scribe at the city archives. A sticky note pressed neatly between the folder told us that it was riddled with holes due to the pillaging of the archive building in both world wars. The scribe had done his best and now it was our turn.
Lockwood and I had agreed that these kids should very slowly integrate into the agent regime. They would start out small. We set them to work placing small defenses in the kitchen, a place that was free from psychic disturbance and arranging iron circles in the foyer, the 1st-floor hallway and 2nd-floor veranda.
Lockwood and I poured through the folder, trying to glean information of relevance in the clippings of society parties and political meetings that had taken place in these very halls. Our interest was piqued when we came across a tiny article, no more than a paragraph from around the turn of the century. It read in translation,
At 7:15, Friday, January 15th, the body of Ms. Emilie Nemtanu was removed from Senator Lemoine's home. Cause of death is unknown.
While Lockwood assisted Jane with a particularly stubborn tangle of chains, I flipped the page to try and find out more.
I found a birth record for an Emilie Nemtanu some 20 years previously and a marriage certificate to an Alain Benoit. Further along, I found a divorce record not two years later. Alain had left her after she was involved in an affair.
My mind began to turn, all the gears grinding up the information.
Emilie, who had a dubious reputation, was found dead in a senator's home. There was no doubt in my mind her purpose there that night but what of her death. That would come to light over the next several hours as we began to poke our noses into the shady corners of this house.
We started our investigations on the uppermost floor, taking readings and making notes of the minutest details.
If I was being completely honest, Lockwood and I had never been the most diligent at taking readings- that was George's skill set but we made an effort this time to be good examples.
My feet were back in their trusty boots, the worn coat pulled tight around me, knapsack on my shoulders and rapier had loosely in my grip.
How familiar it felt. I never fully appreciated this feeling. Booted feet gliding across cold floors, breath visible in the air, rapier glowing like a shard of moonlight.
With great delight, I opened my inner ear, listening intently. A soft murmur greeted me, the barest voice, a gentle tone that alludes to the saddest story. But, with these voices grew danger and their dark desires. I would have to be cautious. My talent had been subjected to ill use and this would be my greatest danger.
"Jane," I whispered. "Do you hear anything?"
Jane huddled deeper into her puffed coat and screwed her eyes shut. "Yes!" she hissed excitedly after a moment. "A voice calling for someone."
"Very good," I praised. Jane glowed.
Seamus dropped the kit bags with an exhausted sigh. Six flights of stairs had been his bane. "Ms. Carlyle," he said, looking around. "Where are the lanterns?"
We had been provided more than adequate supplies by the French government and DEPRAC but Lockwood preferred to pack his own supplies.
I checked the kit bags for the accused lanterns -made with silver which burned with lavender oil- and could not find them.
Asha glanced at Anthony. " I think Mr. Lockwood left them on the kitchen table."
I looked at him, he shuffled his feet, not meeting my eyes.
"Please don't send me back down those stairs." he shook his finger desperately at the staircase. "I'm too old to climb them again."
Jane giggled in spite of herself and even Asha smiled at Lockwood's ridiculousness. Seamus, however, glanced woefully at the stairs.
"It's fine. I'll go get them." I said quickly, not wanting to waste any more time. "You three keep an eye on the old man." I skipped down the steps with the sound of the kids teasing Lockwood dying slowly in the background. I relished this small moment to myself as I stepped lightly down the main entrance towards the old servant's staircase that led to the basement kitchen. The familiar tang of an empty house, iron filings and silver chains. The only thing that was missing was the sound of a sarcastic skull. It had been bittersweet, taking my old rucksack out of retirement without the weight of the skull's jar in it. But the whole in my being without the skull was slowly being filled by these three, giggling, bright, talented kids. With fewer murder tips.
I snatched up the neglected lantern then begun my ascent back up the stairs. It was more difficult than going down them and my whole legs were on fire by the time I had reached the second floor. I leaned against the banister on the landing, breathing heavily. I could hear Lockwood instructing Seamus and Jane on taking readings a floor above. I could hear the wind howling, rattling the windows and shaking the eaves.
There is something universally known by all agents, young and old, new and experienced. That there is a moment when everything ceased to make noise. As if the whole house takes a breath as the visitor pulls together and takes form. It's a stillness that chills you to your very soul.
I felt the barest breeze on my face then nothing. My breath ceased to make a sound, my fingers went numb and as the hairs on the back of my neck rose, my ears filled with a buzzing sound mimicking the static on a radio.
I turned slowly as the lights in the hall flashed on and off, the slightest form taking shape at the end of the corridor.
With each flash of darkness, the shape drew closer, becoming more visible.
Long, thins arms. Jutting hips and shoulders beneath a loose, ragged dress. Thick black hair loose around her face, the head at an awkward angle.
The lights dimmed to a half-shadowed gloom and the apparition stilled. The skirt and hair blowing softly. We stood, opposite with a staircase and one hundred feet between us.
I could hear the voice again. Soft sighs and painful gasping.
I didn't move. Neither did she.
Somewhere above me was Lockwood. He would know what to do. I didn't want to scare Jane into hysterics and my heart rate was accelerating rapidly. Both would only fuel the ghost in her power.
Back to the old sing-song stand-by.
"Oh, Lockwood!" I chirped with as much cheer and calm as I could muster.
"Hang on, Luce." Lockwood's voice called back faintly. "I'm getting a really strong death glow in this back bedroom."
"I'm getting something here too!" I cried jubilantly. " I think I found Emilie, Lockwood. And she doesn't look very happy."
Indeed, as I had been speaking the twitch of her skirts was growing sharper. Her fingers twitched and her head lolled sickeningly.
"Okay!" Lockwood shouted. "I'll be there in a moment."
"Ms. Carlyle." a timid voice asked from the stairwell.
Damn.
Asha had come to look for me.
"Asha, please go back upstairs and get Lockwood." I hissed, praying she hadn't seen the apparition yet. Asha's power of sight was much stronger than mine and from what I could see, my stomach wormed with fear. I didn't want Asha panicking.
"Why?" Asha asked, then turned and saw the ghost's bright guise, flowing with mist and Other Light and promptly screamed. Her fear was like tossing gasoline onto a fire. The visitor lunged with an ear-splitting yell but I was faster. I snatched Asha up by her sweater and swung the lantern at the ghost, which burst into pieces against the wall. The lavender oil exploded across the floor and the silver-glass shattered across the landing.
I tucked Asha close to my body to protect her from ectoplasm and bolted up the last flight of stairs. I collided with Lockwood at the top. He grabbed us both and swore.
"What happened?"
"I hope you didn't like that lantern," I said, sheepishly.
We sat in our circles, waiting for Emilie to reemerge and continuing her path of haunting. We all agreed the bedroom had to house the source so we waited for her to lead the way.
I sat close to Asha, her hand clasped between both of my own. She had described a flickering guise, the visitor had seemed to shake with convulsions.
Lockwood frowned. "A seizure? Or a stroke?"
I shrugged.
"So she definitely dies when she and the senator where-" I shook my head fervently. Not in front of the kids.
"Doing business." Lockwood finished. "And was removed from the building discreetly that morning."
We all nodded. I felt Asha's hand tremble and I squeezed it tighter.
So there we sat on the cold floor. Tea was passed around in thermoses and biscuits had been offered. I made sure all of the kids had a sandwich- Seamus consuming three times more than the rest of us. Then we waited.
A voice whispered a barely audible greeting then Emilie floated up the stairs. Our candles flickered and went out. An audible breath was taken in by the occupants of the circle. Asha buried her face into her knees.
Slowly, almost gracefully Emilie floated down the hall and into the bedroom.
Quick as a flash, Lockwood, Seamus, and Jane was out of the circle and after her. There were several minutes of painful silence. My heart pounded, waiting. Then Lockwood returned with a silver-swathed bundle and the air lightened considerably.
Asha breathed a sigh of relief and lifted her head.
Looking at me, she whispered. " I hate my talent. Their faces always seem to be burned into my mind."
"Do you remember them all?" I asked, softly.
"I remember everything about them." was her haunted reply.
Hey guys! Again, thank you so much for reading! I wrote this all in one day, so I am sorry if it's a bit of a mess. So, about that upload schedule. I'm thinking every other Sunday. So it could be Spreading Shadows Sundays! HA!...so, I'll leave now. But seriously, does that sound good to you all?