The Half-Ghosts: A Spirit Prince

Ch. 8: A Summoning in the Cemetery

Aether dabbed at the ectoplasmic goo that flowed from her face. Spectral tears flowed from her eyes, ears, and nose, and turned her face into a viscous mess. Hemmett fished around his kriot to find a handkerchief or a towel or something. Way down in his left ankle, buried under everything else, he did find a ratty, ugly bath towel in three hideous colors: maroon, olive, and a sort of puke yellow. He handed it to Aether, shrugging, and she buried her face in it. Hemmett hoped she wouldn't give it back.

Blade hovered nearby, still expressionless, but alert. Once or twice, as Hemmett told Aether what he had seen, he sniffed. At one point, he let out a very quiet whimper.

When Hemmett reached the end, everyone sat quietly for a few moments. Aether finished mopping with the towel, and her remaining tears merged back into her face, leaving no trace.

"Have you no feelings about this, Blade?" asked Aether finally.

"About what?" said Blade in a morose voice.

"About being left here by your father to serve him, having your mortal life taken away, being tortured by the Doctormans--all of it?"

"Yeah!" said Hemmett. He had been at a loss for words. Lucky Aether wasn't.

"Of course I have feelings about it. But what use are they now? I'm trapped here," said Blade.

"Yeah!" said Hemmett again. He didn't seem to be contributing very well to this conversation.

"So you're just going to haunt here in the cemetery, waiting for your father to show up and command you? Blade, after what he did to you? After what he allowed the Doctormans to do?"

"You're not really trapped here," Hemmett said. Finally, he had thought of something helpful to say. "You can leave any time you want. Nobody can stop a haunting ghost from going up their portal to the spirit world--even Bellum."

"I know that," Blade growled in a surly voice. "But what's the freakin' point? He'll just follow me and find some other way to cause me pain. I might as well be here as there. It's all the same."

"But you had a nice life with Grandmother," said Aether. "Why not go back to that?"

Blade rolled his eyes, resembling for a moment a scornful teenager.

"Grandmothers can be dangerous," he said. "Lady Mystery locked me up. And Grandmother Sable just ignored everything they were doing to me. The one who really cared is Mattilda Mopes. But she's a spirit-blind mortal who has no comprehension of the spirit world. She can't even see me now."

"But you're helping the Bellum!" said Hemmett, "Pardon me, Blade, but while you stay here in the cemetery, haunting, you're doing what the Bellum wants."

"I keep this place green," said Blade. "It is true he has me raise portals for him and others. I was always good with portals. But see how green everything has become!"

He flew above his lush haunt, spinning languidly, his arms held out as if to embrace it all. The vines about the mausoleum thickened, the bushes and trees burst with flowers and bright green leaves, and the grass shimmered with good health.

Hemmett held up his hands in exasperation and drew Aether away, up onto a large gravestone. Realizing Blade could probably hear anything that went on in his haunt, he messaged Aether instead.

--This isn't right what he's doing.

--I know. I think he's harnessing the portals of all the haunting ghosts in this cemetery to provide some kind of intensified, super-powered portal for the Bellum.