4

"That one."

Hal pointed at the painting they stood before.

"That has to be you."

Jude shook her head, amused.

"This is going to take decades, isn't it?" Hal sighed.

"Assuming you're telling the truth at all, and any of these portraits are you."

"Oh, one of them is me," Jude replied. "But not any of John William Waterhouse's, and not-"

She leaned forward to read the description of the painting.

"A Bacchante by William Etty."

"Looks like you. Or the way you looked, back then," Hal insisted.

"Something in the eyes."

"Thank you. For implying I'm a frenzied worshipper of Lord Dionysus."

"Not far from the truth, is it?" Hal snarked.

"My maker is not a Greek god," was Jude's rather haughty reply.

"Although-" she relented. "If I were going to choose from any pantheon, he'd probably be top of the list. Drinking, dancing and sex? Beats hymns and preaching, doesn't it?"

"I think you and I see the world in rather different ways."

"You do. He would agree with me."

Hal suppressed a shudder at that partial truth.

"If I were him, we wouldn't be having this conversation. Or any conversation for that matter."

"Touché."

They continues their procession through the gallery.

"Have you seen him recently? Your – maker?"

"No."

Jude was thoughtful.

"Not for centuries. I don't know if he's still even alive. Or whatever word is appropriate for a demon."

"I thought if he died, so did you. Wasn't that the bargain you made with him?"

"To be honest, I don't remember. It's not like I got a written contract, and the exact words – well, it has been over eight hundred years. Do you remember what your army surgeon asked of you when he recruited you?"

"Yes. Every word."

Jude glanced over at him. Hal's face was tight with the effort of suppressing the memory, and probably a number of other things too.

"Moving swiftly on..."

Jude put her hand on Hal's arm, her other hand held down by her side, out of his sight, weaving more of her invisible symbols in the air. Hal jerked away from her as the spell hit him, breaking it before it could take effect.

"For God's sake! Must you do that all the time?"

"What else do you expect from a witch? I'm trying to help you."

"I don't want your help! Not that sort of help!"

The attendant in the corner shushed them and Hal realised people were staring. He hadn't meant to raise his voice so loud, but then Judith always could provoke him far more easily than he'd realised.

"No?"

Jude lowered her own voice to a whisper.

"Perhaps I should remove all my spells from you? Even the one that stops you hearing my heart beating? The blood racing in my veins?"

Hal turned from her abruptly, staring intently at the nearest painting, hands clenching into fists. He forced himself to count, slowly, wishing he'd brought something with him to use as a focus. There were too many people around. So much noise. So many heartbeats...

Jude stood behind him, close but not touching. Her voice in his ear.

"I can block them all out. For a little while. If you let me."

Hal struggled. He didn't like magic, certainly didn't want to end up relying on it, replacing one addiction for another. And the thought of Jude holding that over him, should she choose too... He should never have come here on his own. He needed his friends.

His hand went to the phone in his pocket, taking it out and bringing up Tom's number; Alex carried her phone out of habit, as much a part of her as the clothes she wore and he couldn't call it any more than anyone else could but Tom had taken to smartphones surprisingly easily.

He stared at the screen, wanting more than anything right then to be back home in Barry, with his friends. But... they were having a good time, and he didn't want to interrupt that. Just knowing they would be there for him... that would be enough.

Hal closed his eyes, forcing himself to ignore the roaring of other people's blood in his ears. He didn't need that any more. He wouldn't be a slave to it. He wouldn't.

When he re-opened his eyes, Jude was staring at him, mildly impressed.

"Well. Get you."

"I think we're done here."

Hal's voice was cold, but Jude grabbed his arm.

"Wait. There's something I want you to see first."

"Jude, I-"

"Come on."

She pulled him across the room, toward a selection of portraits and, to his intense surprise, Hal found himself looking at – his own face.

It took him a moment to recognise himself, but then he remembered sitting for this portrait, many, many years ago.

"I thought, as you can't see your own reflection, this might be refreshing."

"Yes. Yes, you're right this is... very strange."

The likeness was good, that's what everyone had said, and Hal had had to take their word for it. Certainly the painter had charged enough money and Hal remembered the man grumbling about how hard it was to get the eyes right, that Hal never had the same look in them from one day to the next.

The man in the painting looked kind and there was an affection in his expression that was directed at the portrait's commissioner, standing behind the artist on the day he'd finally captured the right look in Hal's eyes.

Hal choked, the memories swarming up to engulf him

"Oh God. Sylvie."

This had been her present to him, to show him the face that was no longer reflected back at him, in the same way that Jude was showing this to him now. Only... it hadn't been long after this painting was finished that Hal had been swallowed up by the new man whose turn it was. The one who had butchered Sylvie in their bedroom, leaving behind only a memory that burned.

Too much. This – he couldn't –

Hal turned and ran from the gallery.

Why had he thought old haunts was a good idea? When his past was littered with murder and destruction? Even the good memories were soured, those that didn't drown in the screams of the dead. This city, the one that had given him birth – he should never have come back here.

Jude caught up with him just as he left the building, the sound of traffic in Exhibition Square jarring with the noise in his head, it was all so loud, he couldn't block it out.

She grabbed his arm, pulling him around to face her and for a moment all he could see were her dark eyes.

"Sheket."

And then it all went quiet.

Hal woke, and everything was white. There was silence, cool, blessed silence and for a moment he revelled in it.

Then he realised he had no idea where he was.

He sat up. He was in bed – not his own bed; the mattress was too soft and there were no hospital corners – in a small, cosy, whitewashed room. There was a dresser covered in tiny bottles and make-up, a chair draped in women's clothing and on the stand by the bed, a cup of tea waited. He reached out and touched the china – it was hot, the tea steaming gently.

A knock at the door.

"You decent?"

Hal glanced down at himself, then around the room– his shirt and jeans were folded neatly and placed at the foot of the bed. His leather jacket hung on the back of the door, his shoes against the wall. But he had no memory of putting them there. He hopped out of the bed, pulling on his jeans quickly as Jude opened the door.

"Sleep well?"

"What happened? How did I get here?"

"I spellbound you," she responded, matter-of-factly.

"You were - becoming upset and I wanted to bring you somewhere safe. This is my house."

"I assumed as much. I thought I said I didn't want your help."

"Want or not, you needed it. So I blocked everything out and let you sleep it off. You feel better now, don't you?"

"That's not the point!" Hal replied, irate. "And was it entirely necessary to undress me?"

Jude shrugged, pulling her dressing gown closer around her.

"It's been a very long time since there was a man in my bed. I thought I'd see if I was missing out on anything."

Hal tugged on his shirt, more than a little self-conscious.

"Well, thank you for your hospitality, but I think I'll be going now."

He snatched up his shoes, trying to grab his jacket but Jude pushed the door further open, keeping it from his reach.

"Hal, look, I'm sorry. But I couldn't let you run around York like that. It wouldn't have been safe, for anyone. And there's no harm done; I promise all I did was bring you here and put you to bed. Nothing more."

"Fine."

"Will you at least stay for a cup of tea? I'd rather we parted as friends this time."

Jude's demeanour was awkward, and Hal relented.

"Alright. But you so much as think of casting another spell on me and-"

Jude held up her hands.

"I promise. No magic. Just tea."

Hal put his shoes back down, sitting on the bed and picking up the cup and saucer. The tea was welcome- his throat was very dry. Jude brought in her own cup, sitting down beside him.

"So – this is your house. Do you live alone?"

"Oh yes. I haven't lived with anyone since... well, since Jacquetta."

"Jacquetta? But I met her. That was-"

"1865. You introduced us."

"And how did you repay me? By stealing her from her husband and losing me my job!"

"What, that teaching job? Hal, you were wasted there and you know it."

"I liked that job," Hal replied hotly. "It was quiet there, and I could live my own life."

"Maybe you shouldn't have introduced me to the mothers of your pupils, then. It wasn't as if you didn't know what I was like."

"I could hardly have predicted - No, you're right. I did know what you were like. I just never imagined she would be so susceptible."

"She wasn't just susceptible. She was astonishing."

Jude's eyes wandered across the room to a hand-drawn sketch that hung framed on the wall. Hal hadn't noticed it before, but he recognised the woman immediately.

"How long were you together?"

"Forty years. We travelled the world together, being delightfully scandalous. Then she got sick, and I couldn't heal her. I even-"

Jude dropped her gaze to the floor.

"I even thought about calling one of yours in, to turn her. So I wouldn't lose her. My maker was nowhere to be found and I didn't know what else to do. But she didn't want that and so she died and broke my heart."

"They do that. Humans."

"Little mayflies, every one. I kept in touch with her boys. They both died fighting abroad, in one war or other and now there's nothing left of her on this earth but that."

Jude looked back up at the picture.

"And what's in here."

Jude touched her fingertips to her temple. Hal took her hand, and pressed it against his own forehead.

"She's in here too."

Jude gave a little hiccup of shock, her expression momentarily vulnerable. Then she turned her head away, hiding her hundred-year-old grief.

"So, that painting of you," Jude announced, masking her heartache with an ease Hal envied.

"It says "portrait of unknown man," and it doesn't mention who commissioned it. You said 'Sylvie.' Was that her?"

Hal closed his eyes. The pain was less now the shock had faded. Maybe also from what Jude's spell had done.

"Yes. We were together for some years until... he came back. I haven't been able to let myself love anyone since."

"Except your ghost girl."

Jude swung her bare legs off the end of the bed.

"You called out her name a few times when you were sleeping. The temptation to read your dreams was very strong, but I thought I'd done enough already."

Hal chose to ignore that.

"How long was I asleep for?" he asked. Jude avoided his eyes.

He looked out of the window, where the sun was setting.

"Hours?"

"Um..."

"More?"

Hal checked his watch.

"Did you make me sleep a whole day away?"

"Uh, more like two. And a bit."

"I was asleep for more than two days?"

Jude looked apologetic.

"Sorry. I guess I... overestimated the spell a bit. I was worried about what would happen if you lost control of yourself and I think I pushed a bit too hard."

Hal took the phone out of his pocket. The screen was blank, the battery flat. Had Tom or Alex tried to call? He pressed the buttons, but nothing happened.

"I don't have the charger with me. Do you-?"

He didn't have time to finish the sentence before Alex appeared in the room.

"God, you're hard to find!"

Her expression changed –surprise, to discomfort and mild annoyance as she took in bare-footed Hal, sitting on a bed with a strange woman who was only wearing a fairly skimpy thigh-length dressing gown, both of them drinking tea.

"Well, isn't this cosy?"

"Alex! I-"

Hal put down his teacup, not quite knowing what to say.

"You weren't answering your phone."

Alex's tone was cool.

"We got worried, so I tried Rentaghosting to you. Which was a lot harder than it looks."

"That's probably my fault," Jude interjected, amused at the sudden arrival of a jealous ghost in her bedroom.

"There are a number of protective wards on the walls of this house."

"What? Hal, aren't you going to introduce me to your 'friend' here?"

"Of course," Hal stuttered, years of habit pushing him to politeness.

"Alex, this is Judith – Jude. An old friend. Jude, this is-"

"Oh, I know who you are."

Jude got up, and to the immense surprise of everyone else in the room, enveloped Alex in a hug. Alex stiffened and Hal leapt to his feet.

"Jude, don't!"

Jude drew back, rolling her eyes.

"You know, I can go five minutes without using magic. See? Nothing?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Alex demanded.

"Hal, who is she?"

"Jude is a witch. An 800 year old witch I have a somewhat... complicated history with."

"828 years old, actually," Jude added, but Alex wasn't listening to her.

"Complicated? Yeah, I can see that."

She looked over the rumpled bedsheets, their various levels of undress, reaching a conclusion she didn't much like.

"So, witches are real, too? And that's your thing, is it?"

"What? Alex, no, nothing happened. Not like that."

"Don't fret, little ghost."

Jude smiled, enjoying Hal's discomfort and Alex's mistrust.

"There's no need to be envious of me. Let's just say that, well, you're more my type than he is."

Alex looked at Jude, then over at an embarrassed Hal, then back to Jude.

"Okay, fine. Whatever. But we were still worried about him. Is he – is everything alright?"

"I'm fine. I just – the phone battery is flat."

Alex relaxed a little.

"Tom said you'd forget to charge it. I said, no, Hal never forgets anything, but here we are!"

"Again, that's my fault," Jude spoke up. "I'm sorry if I gave you cause for alarm."

"Are you alright?" Hal asked Alex. "You and Tom? How was Alton Towers?"

"It was good, yeah. But we've been on every ride at least twice and I think we're ready to go home now. How about you?"

"Yes. Yes, I think home would be a very good idea."

Hal picked up his shoes once more, slipping into them.

"Should I come with you, or go back to Tom?"

Alex was still a little on edge, concerned about what had happened while she and Tom weren't there to intervene.

"Where is he?"

"I left him playing Crazy Golf. He should be okay for a couple of hours."

"Then, yes. I'd like it if you came with me. I just need to find the car. Where are we?"

Hal directed the last question to Jude.

"St Andrewgate. What about that other thing you wanted to find? Do you still want my help with that?"

Alex looked suspiciously at the two of them, but Hal seemed quite calm now.

"No. No, thank you. I think that can maybe wait for another time."

"Okay."

Jude looked disappointed, but she didn't push it.

"But if you do ever need my help, don't hesitate to call me."

Her expression grew very intense. She rose up on her tiptoes so she could whisper in his ear.

"He's very close. I can help you keep him away. Keep everything quiet."

Hal gently moved her away.

"No, thank you. I'd rather not resort to those methods, unless absolutely necessary."

He took his jacket from the back of the door, swinging it over his shoulders.

"But thank you for the tea. Come on, Alex. Let's go home."

He walked out. Alex gave Jude another wary look, then followed him down the stairs and out the front door.

"Stay in touch!" Jude called.

Hal turned back.

"Only if you stay out of trouble."

"That goes both ways."

She came up to the door, her fingers rubbing over the painted symbols on the frame.

"Don't make me have to rescind my invitation in, Hal."

Hal took her hand and raised it to his lips.

"Don't make me have to call in the Inquisition again. Adieu."

Then, taking Alex's hand, they walked away. Alex only just managed to resist the urge to give Jude the middle finger.

"So... witches can see ghosts too? I guess that's good to know."

"Perhaps."

"Are you sure you're okay? Did anything else happen? Anything I should know about?"

Hal sighed.

"No, nothing happened. Not really. But – this wasn't such a good idea. My being on my own. I'm better with you. You and Tom."

Alex grinned.

"Damn straight."

"Magic has its uses, but it tends to make me a little... uneasy in Judith's presence."

"I'm not surprised! She was super creepy. And was she hitting on me?"

Hal smiled.

"Perhaps in a different situation, she might have. But not just then."

"So you two really haven't... you didn't."

"No. We've been acquainted for many centuries, but we have never been lovers."

"Good."

Alex perhaps gave away a little too much in that one word.

"I thought it would be beneficial for me to speak with someone else who has been alive for as long as I have. Longer, in her case. But maybe the past should be left where it is."

Alex really wanted to ask him what he meant by that. But she knew she might not like the answer.

"Home, then."

"Home. That sounds better than old haunts."

"You're still using that word! How many times, Hal?"

"Sorry."

"It's okay. Actually, I've got a confession to make."

"Oh, don't tell me you're scared of heights too?"

"What? No. Who's scared of heights?"

"Never mind."

Alex put two and two together.

"Oh, you mean Tom. That would explain all the screaming. I thought it was a bit much. And there were a couple of rides I thought I was gonna have to break his fingers to get him to let go of the handrails when they stopped. But no, nothing like that."

"What then?"

Alex stopped walking, suddenly fidgety.

"I didn't really kiss Robert Downey Junior. I didn't even try to go to America and find him."

Hal tried to hide a smile.

"I did wonder. Thought it was a bit far for you to Rentaghost."

"I don't know, Maybe I could have. But... it just seemed a bit stupid. And you and Tom have been great about all the other stuff on my list. Maybe I can move on without kissing someone I've never met."

This time, Hal let his smile surface.

"We'll see. Come on, then. Let's go pick Tom up, and go home."

The JW Waterhouse painting Hal mentions is "The Magic Circle." Likewise, the "Bacchante" painting also exists; although York Art Gallery is currently closed, you can see it online.

There are a number of "Portraits of Unknown Men" too, although unfortunately, none are actually Hal.

I'd been interested to hear what people thought of Jude; I wanted her to be sympathetic while making it clear her reliance on magic is as much of an addiction as Hal's is to blood, but that she hasn't truly realised this in over 800 years, whereas he can see that accepting her offer, using it to control his condition would end up just as bad as giving in to it.

I'm not entirely sure of Hal's timeline either; he was evil in 1855, that much I can remember, but he could have reverted to good Hal in time to be teaching Jacquetta's sons in 1865. The idea for him being a teacher came from the little notes he wrote on Alex's list, which are very schoolmasterly.