The Half-Ghosts: A Spirit Prince

Ch. 10: What the Bellum? (FINAL CHAPTER)

Blade took a step back, then another one. He turned toward the espresso counter.

"Blade Doctorman," howled the Bellum. "Bow before me!"

Blade bowed down.

"First, I want you to find the haunting ghost of this bookstore portal."

"That should be easy," said Blade. "I cut him pretty good earlier." He scanned the darkness. Hemmett rattled with fear that he'd find not only Reid, but Aether.

--Hide, Aether! Blade's coming to get Reid!

No reply--his message fell flat. She wasn't receiving him. Where was she?

Hemmett tried to dematerialize out of the Bellum's grip. No good. No matter how incorporeal he became, the Bellum still gripped him just as hard. Hemmett wasn't even sure what he was holding onto--it felt like the Bellum had him by his coat, but when he struggled, it pinched. Maybe he was holding onto Hemmett's ectoplasm itself.

The Bellum followed the faint glow of Blade's progress across the bookstore. Hemmett struggled some more, then tried and failed to kick Bellum in the ribs. Suddenly his head buzzed--a message!

--Really slowly . . . look down at the floor.

Hemmett lowered his head almost microscopically. There in the floorboards--he could just see Reid's face, glasses and all, peering up at him. Reid's smile stretched wide.

--Reid's ready to invite you into his haunt. The door will open.

--I can't! I can't get out of Bellum's grip.

He struggled again, and this time Bellum shook him, which pinched and seared. Swinging from Bellum's grip, Hemmett had never felt more helpless. He blinked back tears that stung somewhere behind his eyes. No! He was not going to cry and make a mess of things. Bellum had gotten into his head somehow, like he'd gotten into Blade's, and Hemmett had to get him out!

He saw Reid beckoning to him, heard him whisper, "Why don't you join us down here?"

The door was open.

Hemmett's head spun. In his desperation, he flickered. Then it seemed to him he felt a shift. The Bellum loosed him for a moment, and gripped him harder.

Something in that flicker. Not going incorporeal. That just made it easier for the Bellum to grip his ectoplasm. No, thought Hemmett, as his contrary unnature took over. The opposite of incorporeal. The opposite of ectoplasm. Hemmett made himself solid and heavy. He gave himself weight and bones that could break and legs that walked on the floor. He tucked his spirit completely inside himself--and as his chest began to thud a regular beat--that strange pounding that scared him and meant he'd gone too far--Hemmett manifested as a mortal.

He fell, as all mortals fall when they are ten feet off the ground with nothing but spirit fingers holding them aloft. He tumbled into a bookshelf, bounced off the books, and collapsed on the floor. Books battered him, nearly covering him as they continued sliding off the shelf. Hemmett lay still. He listened to the pounding of his crux. No. To the pounding of his heart.

He heard Bellum above him, cursing, but he found it hard to understand with mortal ears. The sounds resembled thunder and floorboards creaking. He sensed it would not be long until the Bellum found a form to capture him, even as a mortal. He must be quick.