Surprises Await

“Emery was running late,” Miles said as he followed Morrissey out of the car. “The only thing we got told was the case was weird. What’s going on?”

“According to people who really should know better, a ghost. We’re supposed to investigate the caverns. Apparently people from the rail company have been attacked by person or persons unknown.” Morrissey paused in his recitation when he noticed the boy was no longer following him. He turned back to frown thoughtfully at the younger Ballard. “Miles?”

“Stevrim Caverns? We’re going in there? Oh, no. No, no, no. I’m waiting in the car. Bring me any trace you want identified.” He was pale but otherwise seemed alright as he spun on his heel and all-but-ran back to the waiting vehicles.

“Miles? Miles!” Morrissey called after him. The teen ignored him and just kept going, however. Shaking his head, Morrissey waved a welcoming arm at Emery. Maybe the elder Ballard would be able to explain the younger’s actions.

**
Emery ran towards where the other forensics wizards were setting up and was surprised to see his brother running the other way. He almost turned and called to the younger boy but Morrissey was waving so fiercely at him, he reconsidered. Instead he ran all the faster to join the supervisor.

“What’s the problem?” Emery asked as he caught up to Morrissey. The rural area they were in, which was surprisingly close to the old Ballard Family homestead, was far from the city but still within their jurisdiction. The forensics team had been called in on what the local people would only describe as a weird case. Emery frowned as he realized where exactly they were. He had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what the case was.

“Supposedly there’s a ghost,” Morrisey explained as they walked toward a rocky outcrop. Emery nodded. He’d heard about the ghost since he was a child. “It started out as things going missing from houses. Then, when the rail company came through, it escalated. As it stands, it’s been attacking anyone who gets close to that cave. The problem is that there’s a new rail that’s supposed to be running right past it so the workers have been attacked. Three people have been hospitalized so far. It’s only a matter of time before someone is killed.”

“So we’re here to… antagonize the local spirit?” Emery asked. He was from this area. Everyone knew the Ghost of Stevrim Caverns was not to be trifled with. “Can’t the rail company just avoid the area?”

“You don’t believe in ghosts surely?” Morrissey said with a teasing note in his voice.

“I grew up near here. I’ve been hearing stories about the Ghost of Stevrim Caverns since I was a small child. Bold kid that I was, I still steered well clear of that place. The old tales would curl your hair, Morrissey. There is no doubt in my mind that there is something odd in that place.” Emery shuddered at the thought of actually entering the cavern to investigate.

“Are you sensing anything?” Morrissey asked.

“Trauma, mental and physical both, but I can’t say whether from the ghost or its victims,” Emery returned.

“Your brother took one look at the place and said he’d wait in the car,” Morrissey said.

“I’m not surprised. He had a bad scare one night while we were returning home. He swore he saw unearthly eyes peering out from the cavern at him. He was only about ten at the time so it pretty well freaked him out,” Emery replied. He gave the elder magician a strained smile and took out his wand. Once his hands touched the wand the vague sense of trauma became much more clear.

“Is the trauma directional?” Morrissey asked. Emery nodded and began walking toward the cavern mouth.

“I assume if I’m supposed to find the ‘ghost’ we’re bringing wardens with us,” Emery murmured. Ordinarily he hated the escort he was forced to continually deal with because of his status as an investigator. Today, however, he would be glad to know there was a person with an actual weapon beyond spells and scurd-flit.

“Here’s Hassett waiting for us,” Morrissey said. “He must have gone ahead to get a briefing from the other wardens.” Hassett wasn’t alone; Franklin, Grant and Everett were all waiting with him. “Emery’s got a bead on him,” Morrissey called to the officers. They nodded and moved into a protective formation around the young wizard.

“The trauma’s getting stronger and not because of proximity. The… ‘ghost’ is scared,” Emery reported as he darted a glance at Hassett.

The lieutenant nodded once and said, “Go easy, guys. We don’t know what he’s capable of and we don’t want to spook him.”

“He feels so… familiar,” Emery murmured. “I’m not usually any good with connectivity and it seems to me that I’ve felt this before.” He led them around a corner and a dimly lit, and very rude, shelter greeted them.

Suddenly a brilliant light flashed and they were blinded. Emery closed his eyes and sat on the ground, trying to make a smaller target of himself. He heard a guttural roar and several outcries from the wardens who’d been protecting him. Soft thuds of bodies hitting the hard earth around him were followed by a larger body landing nearly on top of him.

“Morrissey! Hassett!” Emery yelped. He opened his light-dazzled eyes to find the others all unconscious. An older man was standing about five feet away from him. His hair and beard hung in wild strands all around his head and face. He was frightened and angry but also territorial. Emery dropped his wand and held his hands up in what he hoped was a non-threatening manner. “Alright, just… just relax. I… I’m not armed.”

He swallowed thickly and his breath was coming in short gasps. He could tell the officers and Morrissey weren’t hurt badly but only unconscious. He’d escaped because he’d made himself a small enough target that their attacker had missed him. However, that wouldn’t work a second time. He was relieved to find that it was a human attacker and not a spectral one; but he was still alone in a cave with someone who was most likely not entirely sane.

“I’m Emery. Who’re you?” he asked with a voice that trembled slightly.

“I’m the ghost,” the man replied. Emery was again struck by a sense of familiarity. He’d heard that voice before, though the last time he’d heard it, it had been more refined and less strained.

“D-Dad?” he murmured in wonder. No wonder they hadn’t been able to find their father before their mother’s death. He’d come unhinged and been lost in the hills. “You… you aren’t a ghost. You’re Nathaniel Ballard. You’re a magician, not a ghost.”

The older man roared again and Emery had time to gasp before his world narrowed to a point and darkened.

continued here

The Land Where Even Sleep Doesn’t Exist

Emery looked up as he heard a solid thud just outside the bedroom of the crime scene. “Hello?” he said softly, peering out into the living room. He saw the officer who was there to guard him while he worked lying on the ground.

His first instinct was to go to the man and see if he was alright. However, he knew there was danger there. Instead he backed up and pushed the bedroom door shut. He locked the door and then sprinted over to the radio that Hassett insisted he carry in his bag.

“Franklin,” he said, depressing the button. “This is Emery.”

“Emery,” Franklin’s voice came back over the crackling of the radio. “Is something wrong?”

“My guard… is down.” He broke off as the door shook in its frame. “And someone is trying to get in at me.”

“Hang in there,” Franklin said. Even over the crackling, Emery could hear the tension in his voice. “Hassett and Everett are on the way.”

“Right,” Emery said. He stood, spinning toward the door as it broke free of its frame. There, in the doorway, was the killer. “Franklin, he’s here,” he managed, though his voice seemed to be on the verge of deserting him.

“You have something that belongs to me,” the man said.

Emery shook his head and then slumped to the floor as a wave of dizziness swept over him. He moaned in dread, knowing that he was having a spell but unable to do anything about it. Then the man was on him.

He expected to be killed immediately, but instead the man simply dragged him to his feet and towed him toward the door. “Let me go,” Emery said. “I’m dizzy. I need to sit.” The man lifted him up, but the sudden movement set his head spinning and he lost consciousness.

Summer Surprised Us With a Shower of Rain

“I can’t wait until it gets nice outside and all this rain is gone,” Franklin said softly as he stomped into the station house.

“Rain is good for the plants,” Emery pointed out. “Us too for that matter.” He smiled fondly at a memory that crossed his mind. Meeting his brother’s eyes, he said, “Miles, remember that one summer when we had that drought?”

The grass was all dead and brown and it seemed like everything would dry up and blow away,” Miles said, recalling the situation. “It was so hot we couldn’t even go out to play.”

“Then that one day,” Emery said. “We spotted those clouds in the distance and everyone watched the storm get closer and closer.”

“The wind picked up and it wasn’t the hot dry wind that we’d had for over a month,” Miles continued. “We all ran out and played with the dust devils it stirred up.”

“Then the rain came,” Emery said, beaming. “You were so startled at getting wet that you screamed.”

“You too, Brother,” Miles pointed out. “Then all of us, including Mom and Dad went out and danced in the rain. The drought was over and the grass grew back. The rain was the best thing about that summer.”

“Yeah,” Emery said with a grin. “See, Franklin, don’t knock rain… things get really ugly without it.” He bounded into his office without waiting for a reply but the young sergeant couldn’t help but smile.

Don’t Want to Forget Come Daylight

Franklin sat up and pushed the blankets off in one fluid motion. He snagged his glasses off the bedside table as he headed toward the door. He knew from experience that, late as it was, if he rolled over and went back to bed the song playing in the back of his mind would disappear.

He flicked on the small lamp over the upright and pulled on his glasses before sitting down. Following a time-honed method, he hummed the tune, plunked it out on the keyboard, then wrote it down. Only then did he begin the fine tuning of things such as time and key signatures and duration of notes or dynamics. So far the little melody had no words but now it was out of his head and down on paper.

Words would come with time but he hadn’t lost anything. With a satisfied smile, the young warden took off his glasses and turned out the light. He still had a few hours until it would be time to rise for work.

Faith is a Series of Calculations

The notion seemed a little bit cynical but, all the same whenever people challenged Emery about his faith and belief in God, it was his reply. As always, he smiled gently and said, “What do I lose by my belief in a loving and caring God and an afterlife? Is my belief in God hindering me any? No, I think not. It helps me keep hoping when things aren’t going well and when things are going well,” he trailed off and shrugged as he finished, “I don’t think that’s because I’m just so good. So it keeps me grounded.”

He rocked on his heels and added, “Besides, if my belief is wrong… and you’re right, I won’t know. However, if your belief is wrong, and I’m right… you go to hell.”

Emery chuckled and dashed to his office, leaving the warden staring open-mouthed behind him. “Franklin,” Sergeant Grant said softly. “Did… that boy just tell me to go to hell?”

“I think he said that you would, sir,” Corporal Franklin replied softly. He bit his tongue to keep from sniggering. It wouldn’t do to bring the sometimes-prickly warden’s ire down on him. He could hear his superior breathing deeply though his nose, obviously trying, without much success, to calm himself. Prudently, he chose that moment to withdraw, leaving the sergeant in the corridor alone with his anger.