Everyone is scared of the wind when it blows against them.
Letter From An Old Friend
After my visit to the Necromancer, my ghostly problems began to be solved, yes they did, except for one — for Simon thought I needed to be reminded every minute of every day of my sacred mission to save them. Even now, he was sitting deathly still on the chair next to the kitchen table, reading the latest newspaper.
For some time now I had been wondering how he had solidified his essence to this extent, but I had not asked him, hoping that if I pretended he was not there, he would disappear. Well, as my plan had failed miserably, I asked the question.
"How is it possible that you don't fall through the chair, Simon?"
The ghost gave me a bored look over the newspaper. With one look he explained that I would shut up and wait until he had finished reading, and then perhaps he would answer me. I snorted and continued stirring the soup while standing by the stove.
No, the end of the world hasn't arrived - yet - and no, I'm not ill. In fact, I've always been able to cook, I just haven't practiced the skill — I'm the type to be served, not to serve. I changed my mind now only because of the situation, as the doctor told me that Alex needed to rest.
Although most of his external injuries have healed nicely, one's body doesn't recover overnight from being treated like lunch. The doctor said he might feel dizzy or even faint for a while, so I grounded the wolf.
After a few minutes, I heard the rustle of paper as Simon folded it with precision and smoothed it at the right angle next to the vase, and then he finally agreed to treat me as a human... khm, treat me like a being and look at me.
"So?" I raised an eyebrow.
The ghost boy's lips curved up into a slight, mischievous grin. "Of course, I borrowed a little more life force from you."
"I'm really starting to feel that death has had a bad effect on your personality," I said.
I was just a tiny bit upset that a leech was hanging onto me, especially considering it could kill me.
"Come on," he snickered, "You're not going to die from that much..."
"And what if I do?", I argued, "Then who will avenge your death?"
And then, at last, the smile faded from the ghost's lips, and he almost immediately disappeared. To tell you the truth, I was a bit annoyed that my flat had suddenly become a haunted house, I mean, think about it, a ghost could appear at any moment!
One time, in the middle of the night, I was calmly going to the toilet, when suddenly a ghost came out of the wall! The kid was hovering about two inches off the ground, hunched over, his hands hanging lifelessly at his sides.
His dark, dead gaze was fixed on me, his eyes had ugly circles under them, which only served to emphasize the frightening pallor of his face. And when he turned a little closer to me, I saw that only a tiny lump of skin held his head in place, the vampires had bitten almost all the way through his throat. Then, with eerie calm, he turned back to his original destination and disappeared again into the opposite wall.
Moreover, this was not the only occasion. I encountered a ghost on my doormat, rising from the ground just ahead of me. He asked me if I could get him a pair of socks, as he only had half a pair — and I suppressed a guttural scream and slammed the door in his face. After that, I listened to the bell until I threw one of my socks at him, absolutely devastated. And then I couldn't explain to Inez why my bell had been ringing for half an hour...
And there was the time I was brushing my teeth in the morning, in complete peace of mind, because what could be worse than Berry turning up and lecturing me on why it would be profitable for me to let him out of the mirror? Yes, I have to say, worse things could happen. I even managed to clutch my shirt, because I was gob-smacked when, without any warning, a ghost's head popped out of the mirror.
Well, only half, because the left side of her cheek was missing. Her left eyelid was darkened and hollow, blood was flowing from it as if she were still alive, meanwhile, her lips were curled into a morbid smile and I could see into her mouth... So, the next moment I could hardly stop myself from jumping to the toilet and throwing up all over it.
To sum up, believe me, it's not much fun to be haunted by vengeful spirits.
Alex stumbled into the kitchen and sniffed the air.
"What is this?" he asked with a frown.
"Creamy carrot soup," I replied.
"What?"
"I said, creamy carrot soup," I repeated, "I couldn't find anything worth eating, just carrots and potatoes, so today's lunch is creamy carrot soup and fries."
"Shall I go shopping?" he asked politely, to which I gave him a sharp glance and he jumped to his feet.
"That's not the problem," I said, turning off the gas, "We don't have any money."
He made a rueful face, which made me want to kick him in the ankle, but I finally restrained myself, repeating in my mind, mantra-like, that my dear, mentally handicapped flatmate was injured.
"I'm off to work today, so you don't have to worry," I explained instead, and to keep him busy I ordered him to get a plate for himself.
I made him some soup and he sat down at the table to eat it peacefully. Actually, lunch turned into more of a late dinner, as I had to start after school, so I knew Alex must have been literally starving.
When he sat down at the table, he shook violently and jumped up. Simon slowly appeared in front of us and frowned at the wolf. All the colour drained from Alex's face, and I thought there was a very rough resemblance between him and the ghost.
"It's not nice to sit on a ghost!" Simon reprimanded my flatmate.
Alex had probably recited all the prayers, psalms, and religious sayings he knew before answering.
"Sorry..."
He'll never get used to having the spirit of a dead person hovering around him, and even talking to him in that transcendent voice that scares the hell out of the son of man. Of course, you can't get used to such a thing. Endure it, well, endure it you can, and adapt to it, but you never get used to it.
The ghost nodded his head and then simply stood up, walking through the cupboards and walls and out of the kitchen.
After the visit to Necromancer, others began to see the ghosts as well. Des was the first who spotted one when he walked through him. After that, if he spotted a ghost, he would simply run through it, throw himself after it, or jump on it. I'd always suspected my brother was mad crazy, but now I could say for sure. It wasn't enough that we had a vase and two glasses broken, he also ruined my bed — after that, it always made a deafening squeak when I turned over on my other side at night.
When I questioned him as to why he had turned my house into a wreck, he simply replied that it was a funny feeling when he passed over a ghost. I've had occasions where I also walked through them by accident, but I wouldn't describe it as fun at all. It was creepy, more like a mixture of a cold shower and an electric shock.
Next up was Alice, who probably took it the best — of course, he didn't even meet the one-eyed girl (I'd certainly have watched from the front seats how he'd react then), but only Simon, who, it turns out, he knew from his Russian class.
Alex was the last one to wake up one morning, and when he turned to the other side, he was confronted by another ghost. That day I also had to explain to Inez why Alex was screaming early in the morning as if someone was killing him. The werewolf hasn't made very close friendships with the spirits ever since.
I heard subtle noises from the window and I swear I muttered a prayer that it wasn't another ghost or I'd drown myself in a spoonful of water. Well, it wasn't a ghost. In my surprise, I almost called the bird, but at the last minute, I reminded myself that Alex was still in the kitchen.
It's not that I didn't trust him, it's just that with monsters, the less other people know about you, the better, and that's what most of us stick to. So I tried to wait patiently for him to finish his lunch, and not look towards the window too often. But I was curious about that letter!
"Want me to leave?" he asked.
Although there was no hint of offense in his voice, I felt that I had offended him. After all, Alex is not stupid — sometimes I wish he were as stupid as he pretends to be, but he's not.
"No," I shook my head. "You don't have to."
I opened the window and the blue jay flew through it easily and settled on my index finger.
"Hallo, Herm," I greeted him, "Wie geht's?"
He chirped something in reply and stretched his leg out towards me. I snatched the paper off him and Hermes settled on my shoulder instead.
"What kind of bird is this?" Alex asked curiously.
"A blue jay," I said, "He's beautiful, isn't he?"
"Yes," he nodded, "Is it really a news bird?"
"Uh-huh," I replied, stroking the bird's head with one hand and smoothing the scroll on the table with the other.
Dear Shay,
I'm sorry I haven't written before now, but the judges have kept me terribly busy, and my dear stepfather continues to check my mail. I have had several tough cases this month. Most recently, I spent three weeks following some mages around Transylvania and even got invited to a Witches' Sabbath.
They were all ugly witches, who of course, once they found out that Sir Michael Alisten Crowry was not only not the Witchmaster's advisor, but didn't even exist, were not so hospitable at their private party. Did you know that she-wolf roast is one of the main courses at such events? Plus, they were desperate to get me to try the liver pate...
There's a lot of activity in the Crosspherat. Something really dangerous is going on, the judges have been meeting every day this week. Be careful, no one is safe anymore, regardless of whether they are impartial or on one side or the other.
Mica
"What does it say?" Alex asked tensely.
He probably read my face and knew there was trouble. Even though Mica tried to make light of it, I knew it was serious — he hardly ever writes to me, except at Christmas, only once a year. We both knew how dangerous it was, after all, what would happen if the Crosspherat found me, etc., etc. Now, war is certainly upon us, I thought.
"The Crosspherat is on the move," I said to Alex, and to reassure him a little, "No serious trouble yet."
"Can you get me a pen and some paper?" I added as I read the letter over and over again.
Alex returned in less than a minute. I scribbled quickly on the page a thank you and then hurriedly tied the note to the bird's leg.
"Wir sind die Jäger!" sang Hermes, and I froze.
I patted the bird, which had obviously noticed how upset I was by the news. Alex looked stunned.
"They can imitate any sound they hear," I explained, "So, of course, they can imitate the sounds of humans."
"Pass auf," I said, and the bird flew out of the window.
"Did it understand what you said?" Alex asked.
"I don't know, probably," I replied, "Its owner speaks German, so he must have understood."
Alex looked at the sheet of paper on the table.
"Mica is my cousin, his mother is Hungarian, so he learned a bit from childhood," I explained, "When we were little, we used to meet a lot, he taught me German."
He loosened up, for the first time in a long time. Sometimes it feels good to be a bit open with your best friend.
"In any case, I have to get to work soon."
The wolf nodded, and I made my way down the hall, waving a little. The smile was almost immediately frozen off my face as I turned my back on him. I felt sick and nauseous, and the ground felt like it was pulled out from under my feet. War can only mean one thing: death.
The end of many lives, families torn apart, nothing but sadness and loss. There is nothing noble in such blind fighting, whatever the cause.
I didn't want Alex or any of my other friends to experience what the other side was like. What the hell I'd managed to escape from was like. May they live in blissful ignorance and peace. Because the happiness of monsters is the rarest and most fleeting thing I know.
At that moment I was more afraid that this whimsical butterfly we call happiness would soon disappear from my sight. If I hold on to it too tightly, I crush it in my grip, if I continue to carry it on the palm of my hand, it will fly away. What can I do to make time stand still, to make sure that the bitter tomorrow never comes, and that this happiness remains?
I decided then that whatever my fate might hold, I would not fight. I won't involve myself or my friends in this foolishness. I'm simply going to try to carry on as long as I can.