“Right, in that case,” Daniel began, moving back towards Riordan even as his foggy eyes looked anywhere else, “My aunt knew I was having some trouble with my parents. They were paying for college for me and I had been doing pre-med, majoring in biology, but I was hating it. I’d taken a journalism class as an elective and suddenly I found that passion that had been missing for my actual major. I took a few more, but my grades were slipping in the classes I hated. My dad put his foot down and told me no more fluff classes, made it clear that I had to buckle down and work hard.”

“I was going to do it. I mean, they were paying for my degree and yeah, medicine pays way better than journalism ever will. But then I sat there, thinking about it. It wasn’t just another year to get my biology degree. It would be that plus four years of medical school plus three to seven in some residency program and then the rest of my life either being a doctor or feeling like I’m wasting all that effort if I do something else. It was… too much. It wasn’t even about journalism at that point. It was the fact that I was going to be miserable trying to become a doctor.”

Daniel sighed, tension clear in his body language. Ghosts no longer had bodies, but they had all their memories of having one, all their habits of posture that dictated their form. Riordan wondered if that faded away as they became more removed from their life, becoming the fuzzy shape of the cheap sheet ghosts of Halloween. He was reminded of how some of the dead in his dream had been more indistinct already, though he wasn’t sure if that wasn’t at least partially the fault of that wretched spell space.

“Anyway,” Daniel continued, “my aunt had known about my doubts and had supported me in doing whatever I needed to in order to be happy. She’s always been a bit of an eccentric, which my dad never liked. I told my parents after I’d come home for the summer and it turned into this whole big thing. Yelling happened. Threats were made. They didn’t get it and probably felt betrayed since it had taken so long for me to realize I didn’t want that life. They have always tried to be supportive of me, but honestly, they haven’t understood me since I was a kid and discovered that I liked books more than sports and boys more than girls. They took away the use of the car and my cellphone to make a point. I decided to go visit my aunt on my own anyway to make my own point.”

Daniel’s expression turned into a rueful grin and he gestured at his see-through form. “You can see how well that worked out.”

There was a lot to unpack in Daniel’s answer. Riordan couldn’t really relate. He’d gone into the military instead of looking for more schooling, leaving his parents’ care as soon as he was old enough. And yet, he’d felt a similar discontent that had driven him out of the rigidly structured military into the looser life of a mercenary. He just hadn’t regretted anyone that had meant cutting out of his life at the time, but he’d been an asshole at that age.

He realized that he hadn’t said anything in response to Daniel’s honesty and pain yet. That argument would be the last thing to happen between Daniel and his parents. Riordan wondered how much his disappearance and death would weigh on them.

Thank you, Riordan thought awkwardly. I’m sorry it went that way.

“It is what it is, I guess,” Daniel sighed, “Not like any of us can do anything about it at this point. Anyway, it’s my turn now. Hmmm… How old are you?”

That’s what you’re going with?

“What?” Daniel laughed, his lightness slightly forced but unapologetic. “I was curious and couldn’t peg it down. You’ve got this whole dark and brooding ageless thing going on. You could be anywhere from twenty-five to forty-five.”

Riordan chittered a badger laugh. You don’t know the half of it. One of the side effects of being a shifter is that I age slower. I’m sixty-three.

“Seriously?” Daniel flew closer and studied Riordan with exaggerated care. “I guess I can see it. You act like a grumpy old man. You look good for your age though, if a bit furry.”

This time, Riordan didn’t stop himself from snapping at the ghost. He didn’t hit of course, despite the threatening lunge, and Daniel skipped back into the trees, laughing as he avoided it. The humor was fragile and superficial, but they both needed it. They needed to be able to play and laugh and forget, even if just for a second, how absolutely fucked they both were.

It couldn’t last though. Daniel paused, looking at something off in the trees from his vantage point floating way up off the ground. “There’s a house over there,” he announced.

Riordan paused mid-step, peering in the direction Daniel was looking. From his much shorter badger point-of-view, all he saw were trees and hills. Now that he was focusing though, he could pick up a faint scent of wood smoke over the smell of pine and swamp.

Could be dangerous, Riordan warned. I heard the people who chased me say that the people who lived in this area were all on their side.

“All the more reason to take a look then,” Daniel stated, “I’ll go. It’s not like they can see me and it might be important. We could find out who they are or at least where we are.”

Wait, Riordan thought loudly, but Daniel was already zipping off out of sight and didn’t seem to hear. Shit.

No one could see a ghost, sure, but if anyone might have things that could harm one, it would be a group with a death mage. Riordan scampered after Daniel at a sprint, surprisingly fast for being so small. He still wasn’t able to catch up to a flying ghost with a head start and he swore heavily in his head as he ran, hoping Daniel would hear it and slow down.

The house came into view a moment later. A split-level cabin nestled into the side of a rolling hill that dropped off more steeply to one side and had forest on the other. A winding driveway, consisting of well-established dirt ruts, disappeared into the trees. A single battered car sat in the gravel parking area. Smoke rose from a chimney on the hill side of the house. The front of the house had a large porch extending out over the lower level. The whole picture seemed homey and peaceful. Riordan distrusted it immediately.

Daniel was nowhere in sight. Riordan growled in frustration, slowing his pace to a more sedate speed, trying to give the impression of a wild animal nosing about for a bit of garbage or something. Cautious but not afraid, as if used to human houses. Riordan was bad at pretending fear as a honey badger anyway.

The house stayed quiet as he approached the lower floor. It extended into the hill slightly and he saw what looked like a door to a basement off to one side when he stretched up to peer through a window. A stone fireplace sat unlit in the main room. He suspected that it shared its chimney with another fireplace or stove, either in the basement or the upper floor. A basement stove combined with a stone chimney could radiate heat throughout a house pretty well.

The sound of quick footsteps on the upper floor drew Riordan’s attention upward, even as he tucked himself in next to a recycling bin. A female voice was speaking softly, the words indistinct until he heard the sliding door above him pop open and someone step out onto the porch that extended out over the lower floor entrance.

“Can you hear me now?” the woman asked, pausing before continuing, “Good. Reception can be spotty inside.”

She was clearly talking on a phone, though even with his sensitive hearing, Riordan couldn’t properly hear the other side. The few words he caught sounded female and inquisitive.

“Oh, Mary,” the woman on the deck sighed happily, “It finally happened. I was doing my meditations and as always, I ended with a prayer to try and tap into my inner feminine divine. This sort of cool tingle passed over me and I opened my eyes and one of the statues was glowing!”

That last part was high pitched with excitement, almost a squeal. Riordan growled in discomfort, but the woman didn’t seem to notice as the woman on the other side of the call squealed in return and practically shouted, “Kimberlee! That’s amazing! Which statue?”

“The Mother,” the deck-woman, Kimberlee, answered proudly. She paced to the edge of the porch, leaning on the rail to look out over the landscape, providing Riordan with less obstruction.

A happy gasp came from the phone. “You’ve always wanted children. Have you told Gloria yet?”

“Not yet,” Kimberlee admitted, “It just happened and I felt like I had to tell you first. It feels unreal, you know? I always hoped it would happen for me, but I wasn’t sure it would. I’m going to head over to the hall now though. I want to tell her in person. Will you come?”

“Of course,” Mary’s enthusiasm became tempered with seriousness that was clear even through the phone. “Acknowledgment of our divine path is huge. Gloria will want to know right away. She’ll be so happy for you and make sure your ceremony of acknowledgment is done right. Maybe even the prophet-”

Kimberlee interrupted, “Goddess, if the prophet led my ceremony, I’d be way too nervous to even think. Gloria will know what’s best. I need to get going, but I just had to share. See you soon?”

“I’ll be there,” her friend answered solemnly.

One or the other of them hung up and Kimberlee dashed down the porch stairs towards the parking area, nearly tripping in her haste. Riordan remained hidden behind the bin until the beat-up old car rattled to life and started down the dirt drive, even though he was pretty sure that woman wouldn’t have noticed him standing in plain sight.

Once he was sure she was gone, and far enough that he’d be able to hide if she did turn around, Riordan picked his way up the porch stairs. The big glass sliding doors opened into an open-plan kitchen and living room with hardwood floors and a fire-burning stove. A pot of water steamed on top of the stove, smelling of fragrant herbs rather than food. A large flat cushion sat in the middle of a rug in the living room section, in between some comfortable couches and small tables covered in fancy rocks, incense burners, and statues of various sizes and types.

The four largest statues were set in roughly the four cardinal directions, depicting a young woman with a flower crown, an athletic woman dressed in armor, a woman cradling a baby in her arms, and an older woman with a crow on her shoulder. On a physical level, they were well-designed statues cast out of what was probably bronze.

On a magical level, the statues were covered in lines of shadow that created purposeful patterns on their surfaces. More lines looped through the air between the statues, reinforced by the intent of their placement and probably by the meditation and prayer the woman had mentioned.

The statue of the mother with her baby pulsed with warm golden light. Daniel stood behind it, eyes blank and staring at nothing, as the shadow lines from the figurine wrapped around him like leeches.