"Right," I said. "Because dragons aren't real, of course."
"Of course," he said cheerily. Then he turned somber, literally on a dime. His red aura seemed to deepen to a crimson. "Except that I haven't written in four months."
I did the math. "Since your wife left."
He nodded. "Right. A world-class case of writer's block."
I looked at the time. We had about twenty minutes to kill before his very own Lady in White showed up. While we waited, I asked to read the first few pages of his novel. He didn't know what to make of the request. No one had ever read the book before. Not even his wife.
"What about the ghost?" I teased.
No, not her either. But that broke the ice and he asked me to move over a little, and I did, and he brought up the book on his computer. Then he moved away to sit at a full-length couch near the arched hallway entrance, where he watched me like a voyeur. I don't like being watched like a voyeur or otherwise, so I did my best to ignore him. Judging by the intermittent spitting sounds, I think he might have been chewing his nails.
I wasn't expecting much. In fact, I had already been planning on how to let him down easy if I thought the book sucked-including wiping his memory of me reading the book-when I came across something surprising. A remarkably fine first sentence that hooked me. And a second that might have been even better than the first. And a third that was rich and real, and so I kept reading. And reading. And as I read, something happened to me, something beautiful and magical, and not expected at all. I felt...
Transported. Straight into his fantasy world, where his characters came to life. They were funny and real and troubled and heroic-and that was all within the first twenty pages. A Game of Thrones, indeed. Maybe better. Maybe a lot better.
I didn't want to stop reading, couldn't stop reading. Charlie's fancy home had long since disappeared. Charlie had disappeared, too, until I heard his words reaching from seemingly far away. I blinked, irritated, wishing like hell that whatever was talking to me would just go away. I was, after all, quite happy here in the magical land of Dur.
Finally, finally, Charlie's words reached me.
"Sam, she's here."
Chapter Five
And so she was.
Crankily, I looked up and saw the bluish glow in the hallway. The glow was pretty damn obvious, more so than just about anything I had ever seen. No wonder why he caught snatches of it, even being a mere mortal.
Yes, I'd seen all levels of apparitions, from the very faint, to just blobs of energy. I'd seen more full-bodied spirits, too. My last interaction with Danny's ghost had been a particularly clear apparition. Little did I know at the time that the real Danny-as in, his actual soul-was hiding in my son.
Let it go, Sam.
I nodded to my own internal dialogue and let it go. For now. After all, a brightly lit ghost was presently standing just inside the hallway.
"You can see her?" I asked.
"Only when I turn my head and look away." He demonstrated for me. "I can see the bluish glow, and maybe, just maybe, a woman standing there. But when I turn to look at her-poof, she's gone."
Except, of course, I wasn't having that problem. There was no poof. I could see her full on, and she was quite beautiful. She wore a sort of nightgown, but it was antiquated. She was tall and slender and had big, nearly cartoonish eyes. Eyes that, if I had to guess, were filled with tears. She also seemed familiar in a way that I couldn't put my finger on. I'd certainly never been to this house before. Nor had I seen her. I was sure of that. No way anyone could forget a face like that. But yet... I felt I might know her. Worse, that I should know her. Was she an actress, maybe? A model? A pin-up girl from yesteryear?
That was about when my warning bell sounded, buzzing lightly in my head, and causing an increase in heart rhythm, which really wasn't saying much. But it was noticeable, at least to me. The buzzing was light, akin to a pesky mosquito. I was being warned that something was amiss, but not terribly so. His friendly ghost, I suspected, was anything but friendly. In fact, few things caused my inner alarm to sound. Vampire hunters, yes. Serial killers, check. The Devil himself? Oh, yes. Ghosts, not usually. Yet, here was my inner alarm, warning me of potential danger.
I continued sitting in the chair, surrounded by toys and computers and enough desk space for a start-up company, and watched the ghost standing in the hallway, staring forward.
Most important, I was pretty sure she wasn't a ghost. At least, not any ghost I had ever seen. The energy was different around her. Most ghosts were composed of zigzagging energy, a sort of gathering of such energy. Not her. She was complete, whole, pure. Just... not quite here. Closer to a hologram than anything.