LEX

Istare at him. “You want to go right now?”

“You have my muck in your quiver, don’t you?”

Gods.

“Please stop saying that.”

A chuckle spins from his twisted lips.

Before his laugh can finish though, another ghost suddenly comes out of nowhere and flies right through him. I leap back in surprise and hear Belren snarl out a curse. “Godsdammit, Stag, stop doing that!”

Belren glares daggers at the ghost who just violated him, but the ghost—aptly named with the stag antlers coming out of his head—just turns around and looks at me blankly. “There was fighting here,” he says morosely.

Is he coherent like Belren too?

“Um, yes,” I answer.

Stag spins in a circle, looking around, and nearly slides through Belren again. “There was fighting here, I think,” he says again.

Oh. I guess not.

I glance at Belren, and he gives a shrug. “He’s like an echo. Repeats the same thing over and over again until you want to pull your ears off.”

My lips turn down as I watch Stag. He’s started to mutter beneath his breath as he does laps around Belren. “It’s not his fault. He can’t help it.”

“Yes, I know,” Belren replies with a sigh. “I have a feeling he’s annoyed me for a lot longer, but I just can’t remember. This is yet another reason I want to leave.”

Shuffling on my feet, I adjust the strap over my shoulder. “I’m not sure this is such a good idea.”

Belren’s eyes narrow on me. “And why is that?”

“What if it doesn’t work? What if it makes you more like him? It seems like a big risk to take,” I tell him.

I don’t like risks. I like plans, goals, challenges. But risks? That’s right down there alongside failure. And disorganized filing cabinets. I really hate those.

Belren seems to sober at my unease, and he comes closer, leaving Stag to mill around behind him. “Listen, if this doesn’t work, it’s no skin off my see-through back. I’ll simply be brought right back here where I started. Or…ended. You know what I mean.”

“Yes, but—”

“No buts, Pinky,” he interrupts, taking another step forward. My body stiffens as he enters my space, his head tilted down. His graphite eyes skim over my face as slowly as a stroke, and nearly make me shudder. “Do you know what I was thinking of before you suddenly arrived?” he asks me.

“No…?” Why is my voice so breathy?

“Nothing,” he says, a hint of bitterness edging the word. “I was thinking of absolutely nothing. Because every time I seem to have a thought, it gets plucked away from me. Or I wake up in my deathplace, remembering not a damn thing, but knowing I just appeared there, knowing I was trying to do…something. I’m losing my mind here, Pinky.”

For the first time since we came face to face, I see the hidden sadness and fear carved into the marble of his phantom eyes. It makes my heart hurt.

“I need to get off this godsdamned island,” Belren goes on, more quietly this time, like he’s pleading with me. “I’m not a fool. I know it’s only a matter of time before I end up like Stag.”

My eyes flick behind him to watch the poor antlered ghost mumbling at the ground.

“But I also know that, for some reason, I feel better around you.”

The confession takes me by surprise, and my eyes snap back to Belren’s face. “Me? Why?”

“I don’t know. You make me feel not so…tied down,” he answers without pause. “I’m more focused than I have been in gods only know how long. For some reason, I feel as if I need to stay with you.”

I suck in a useless breath. This must be because of Princess Soora. It definitely can’t have anything to do with just me. Not that I can tell that to the flutters in my stomach.

Expression intent, he passes a phantom finger through mine. “I know you don’t know me, don’t owe me anything, but let me do this with you, since it will probably be the last thing I can do before I turn into Stag.”

Don’t owe him anything? I owe him my entire afterlife.

Dropping my eyes, I clear my throat, unable to face such honest imploring, unable to face the curious hope. “But what if we try to leave and the quiver plan doesn’t work?” I ask nervously. “I mean, it seems unlikely, doesn’t it? For whatever reason, you’re stuck here, at your deathplace. Me carrying around some of the dirt isn’t going to be enough.”

“Won’t know until we try, love,” he says, another easy smile on his face again, making me all jumbled up inside. “And like I said, what’s the difference? If it doesn’t work, I end up right back here and you can be free of me.”

Little does he know, I’ll never be free of him. I haven’t been since he died for me.

I shake my head, eyes lifting. “It’s not about me. If this doesn’t work and you get sucked back to your deathplace, you could end up worse off. Who knows, maybe all of these ghosts have tried to leave before too. Maybe it makes you forget faster,” I tell him, desperate to make him see reason. “The safe thing to do is simply stay here and try to preserve yourself.”

His mouth pulls into a sneer of distaste. “I don’t want to preserve myself, and I am not interested in playing it safe. I may not remember who the hell I was, but I know who I am right now, and I have no interest in staying here to rot.”

I stare at him, torn. On the one hand, I understand. This island is bleak, even without the sight of the spirits stuck here for eternity, left to dwindle into nothing. But on the other hand, I’m scared. I’ve just found him, and I don’t want to ruin his afterlife as much as I inexplicably ruined his life. I don’t want to be the reason for his end. Again.

But the longer I look at him, the more I see that I can’t deny his request. I yelled at the fates and declared that I’d get revenge for him, and he appeared. Now I have to follow through.

I let out a defeatist sigh. “We can try to just leave the island first if you’re really sure…”

A grin splits his face, making him practically light up. He’s so handsome it hurts to look at him. “I knew you’d come around.”

I give a nervous laugh. “Let’s just hope you don’t come back around, right?”

He blinks at me in silence. “Was that…was that you trying to make a joke?”

The small smile I had on is whisked away for a frown. “Of course it was a joke. Come back around. Like getting pulled back to your deathplace?” Another stilt of silence. “It’s funny!” I insist.

Now he laughs. “My gods, you are adorable, Pinky. The worst sense of humor, and somehow, it makes you even more endearing.”

“I…I’m not sure what to say to that. Was that an insult or a compliment?”

“Let’s not get into the trap of putting a label on it,” he replies before he turns and starts walking away again. “Now come on, before Stag starts to follow.”

I shoot the other ghost a repentant look, but he doesn’t see it since he’s now talking to a rock a few feet away.

Hurrying to catch up, I take my place beside Belren, my nerves taking flight. When we reach the edge of the island, I look down at the swirl of haze clinging to the sides. “Are you sure?”

“You know, you’re starting to sound like Stag, asking the same thing over and over again.”

“I just think it might be helpful to really go over a pros and cons list before we—”

Not even letting me finish, he looks contemplatively at the edge and then walks right off it, disappearing into the gloom.

“Gods darn it,” I mutter.

Oooh, how blasphemous of you!” I hear him shout, though I can’t see him. “Come on, Pinky, the mist’s fine!”

“This is actually fog!” I holler back. “It’s much denser than mist!”

I think I hear a snort, but I’m not sure.

“Are you there?” I call.

When I don’t hear a reply, I quickly flare my wings out and take flight with a jump over the side of the island. The second I do, I become immersed in the haze, unable to see so much as a foot in front of me. I spin around mid-air, squinting for a ghostly silhouette. “Where are you?”

Nothing.

“If you’re hiding from me, this isn’t funny!”

Still nothing. The silence is creepy.

I open my mouth to call his name, only to clamp it shut again since he doesn’t remember it.

“Hello?”

The further I fly, the more I get turned around. The fog isn’t letting up, even though it should since I must be further away from the island now. Unless I’ve accidentally flown closer to it?

The longer I’m stuck in the smothering vapor, unable to see, the more unease filters through me. What if he’s already gotten sucked back? Maybe I should go check?

Except…I have no idea which way the island is. Gods, my sense of direction is abysmal.

Where the heck is Belren?

“Hello!” I call again, my voice sounding high-pitched, laced with panic that I don’t want to give in to. I don’t panic. I plan. Panic doesn’t help any situation.

“Okay, Lex, just calm down. Let’s fly upward. If we go up, then we can get out of the fog,” I say out loud in a little pep talk.

“Do you always talk to yourself?”

A scream tears from my throat, and I nearly fly right through Belren, who’s suddenly appeared in front of me.

“Oh my good gods! Don’t do that!

“You know, for a quiet one, your screams are shockingly loud.”

I narrow my eyes, still trying to rid myself of the surge of fear I just experienced. “If I could, I’d hit you.”

“Mmm, violent too?” he purrs, seeming nearly like a disembodied voice since his silhouette mostly blended in with the fog. “You are just full of surprises, aren’t you, Pinky?”

“That’s it, we’re going back to the island,” I huff.

Turning around, I start to fly away, muttering under my breath about what an absolute jerk a certain ghost is. I hear him laugh.

“Pinky? The island is the other way.”

Stopping in my tracks, I spin around and start flying in that direction instead. Belren sidles up beside me to follow, and while I’m using my wings to fly, he’s simply walking on air, his steps eating up the space like he’s on a moving walkway.

“So, did you want to tell me why you were at Ghost Island in the first place?” Belren asks conversationally.

I shoot him a look. “Ghost Island?”

“Yes. Why were you there? Unless cupids often try to get ghosts to fall in love or fu—”

“No,” I quickly blurt. “Our powers only work on the living.”

“Disappointing, but unsurprising,” he replies. “So? Why were you there?”

I divert my attention, staring straight ahead. “Umm…closure.”

Belren makes a face. “That sounds boring.”

Well, that’s rude.

“My closure isn’t boring,” I reply hotly.

He clicks his tongue, watching my wings as he walks. “Someone is sensitive about it. Does that mean you didn’t get your closure?”

I laugh humorlessly. “Definitely not. No closures in sight. In fact, I’d say the whole thing is wide open.”

“What a shame.”

He doesn’t sound like he thinks it’s a shame at all. How fitting, considering he’s the reason for it.

“Is that where this whole killing someone plan comes into effect?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

He snickers. “You’re never going to be able to do it.”

I stop. “Excuse me?”

“Oh come now, look at you,” he says, drawing a hand up and down my figure. “You’re not the killing type.”

I’m not sure why I feel so offended, but I do. “I could kill if I wanted to—and I will,” I say defiantly. Because I think I sort of accidentally made a vow to the fates.

“Whatever you say, Pinky.”

With a huff, I flap my wings again, and then we’re suddenly breaking out of the fog—finally—but instead of the island, we’re in the wide expanse of sky. “I thought you said this was the way to the island?”

“I lied,” Belren says cheerfully. “Do you know, I couldn’t even step off the island before you? But I feel fine. The muck is really working,” he says, rolling back on his heels mid-air. “Now, which way to go on your killing spree?”

“It’s not a spree. One fae surely can’t be considered a spree.”

Right? I’m actually not sure; I’ll need to research it later.

“Well?” he presses.

“Well, what?”

“Which way?”

“Oh, umm…I don’t know where she is,” I admit.

He gives me a look. “Alright, well, you’re not off to a strong start, but you came to the right ghost.”

My gaze latches onto him. “I did?”

“Of course,” he says with an air of confidence that reminds me of his old self. “I’ll help you find her.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him if he remembers being good at finding things, but I immediately swallow it down.

“Who is this fae?”

“Umm…her name is Soora,” I answer, watching him carefully. But his expression stays perfectly blank yet curious. “And she used to be a princess of the realm. She was supposed to be backing a rebellion and helping overthrow the tyrant king, but when it mattered most, she betrayed our side. Got a lot of good fae killed.” I swallow thickly, throat filled with the heavy emotion of my explanation as well as the fear that this will spark a detrimental recognition.

But his expression doesn’t change.

“Well, this just gets better and better,” he says with clear excitement. “Let’s head to those islands there, and you can start asking around.” He points to a cluster of four islands in the distance, a couple of them with dripping waterfalls cascading off the sides.

I shift in the air uneasily, hesitation gnawing at me. Just because we got this far doesn’t mean we should tempt fate. “I think I changed my mind.”

His attention flicks toward me. “What?”

“I’m in over my head here,” I admit, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. “You need to go back to your island, and I’ll try to go get some hel—”

“No,” he says, cutting me off.

No?” I steel my spine at being told no. “Well, listen up, mister, you’re actually not in charge.”

We proceed to glare at each other.

He leans in, inches away from my face. “You know, you’re sexy when you try to get all mad like that.”

I sputter. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused,” he replies smoothly, straightening back up. “And as it were, I am actually in charge.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep. Because I’m a ghost, and you’ve gone and disturbed my peace by showing up on my island and making me feel awake—especially with all of your killing talk. Now I’m invested. We have to go along with the plan or I’ll never be able to rest.”

Worry gnaws at me.

He plants his feet in the air and stares at me with an arched brow. “Look, if you don’t take me willingly, then I’ll just haunt you.”

I blink at him. “Can…can you do that?”

His eyes dart away, but he quickly covers it up with a scoff. “I’m a ghost. Of course I can haunt.”

“You aren’t sure, are you?”

He seems very put out by this conclusion. “That would be quite stupid if I’m a ghost who can’t even haunt,” he grumbles. “Besides, I think I’ve already latched onto my muck.”

This takes me aback. “What do you mean?”

Belren shrugs a shoulder. “I can tell where you are. Even when you were in the mist—”

“Fog,” I quickly correct.

He shoots me an unappreciative look. “Right. When we were in the fog, I could sort of sense where you were. Because of my muck.”

“That’s…strange.”

He shrugs. “Must be a ghost thing.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’m not the ghost.”

Belren arches a brow. “You don’t need to brag about it.”

For goodness sake.

“Fine,” I finally relent. “We can try for the nearest island. But when we get there, I’m calling for help. And we aren’t going any further. Deal?”

His handsome face gives me another heart-stopping grin. “Deal.”

This time, I walk beside him as we start heading toward the island far off on the horizon. From here, I can see nothing much except a green blob in the distance, with clouds speckling the sky. Behind us, fog still clings to the air, obscuring Ghost Island.

“By the way, what should I call you?” I ask him.

Ever the flirt, he flashes me a smirk and wags his brows. “You can call me whatever you like, so long as I get to hear you say it over and over again in my ear.”

I roll my eyes, but I bet my cheeks would be bright pink if I weren’t in the Veil. “You don’t have any preference?”

“Nope,” he answers jovially. “Just don’t pick a bad one.”

“How about…Hook?”

Belren makes a face. “I just mentioned bad names.”

I gesture to his head. “Your horns are curved like hooks. I think it fits.”

He gives me a salacious smirk. “Oh, it’ll fit, Pinky.”

“Good grief.”

His chuckle wraps around me and sets butterflies loose in my stomach. “I think Hook will do just fine.”

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