“So, I should apologize again for this whole situation,” Amy said.

“Yes, you should,” Vell agreed. He shot another ancient Khmer ghost as it formed.

“In my defense, I had no way of knowing you guys would be so...accommodating,” Amy said. The rumors of Vell’s strange activities had never reached her, thanks in part to Vell explicitly going out of his way to not tell her. He liked having normal friends, and had been under the impression Amy was one of them.

“So you potentially dragged me into a curse thinking I might not be able to handle it?”

“You could’ve just dumped me and ended it right away,” Amy said. “Or let me handle it.”

“One ghost punching arm does not qualify you to fight a legion of the dead,” Vell said.

“How did you-”

“Oh come on, Amy, it’s a basic Bernart spectral strike network,” Vell said. Amy’s sleeve tattoo had a large number of runes engraved into it, some of which were purely decorative, and some of which functioned to grant her arm various magical qualities -one of them being the ability to punch otherwise un-punchable spectres. Presumably a defense against the very scenario they were now in. Vell had figured this out after examining her tattoo just a few times, but figured she had only given herself such an ability to look cool at parties. He should’ve known better.

“Most people still don’t recognize it,” Amy said, impressed by his display of knowledge. “It’s thirty years outdated, and inefficient compared to the Hasegawa method.”

“Right, but the Hasegawa method wouldn’t allow you to double up the ‘strike’ rune that also connects to your defensive enchantment,” Vell said.

“Very perceptive,” Amy said.

“I pay attention to things. Apparently not enough.”

Vell continued staring dead ahead. He hadn’t so much as looked over his shoulder the entire time he and Amy had been walking together. She sighed heavily, well aware that she deserved that cold shoulder.

“No matter how hard you’re looking, I was still hiding something from you,” Amy admitted. “I’m sorry, Vell. I was being selfish.”

The genuine admission of guilt cracked the icy exterior of Vell’s cold shoulder, and he sighed as well.

“Okay. Yeah. And sorry if I’m being too mad. I’ve just...been here before. It ended a lot worse.”

“Worse than a plague of ancient Khmer ghost warriors?”

Amy paused to punch a hole through the spectral head of an ancient tomb guardian.

“How?”

“I would prefer not to talk about it, if that’s alright with you.”

Vell didn’t feel up to discuss the details of how he’d been murdered by Joan, nor did he know how to explain it in a way Amy could comprehend. Their current situation was already tense enough without him talking about kidnapping and lethal human experimentation.

“That’s only fair,” Amy said. She’d tested his boundaries enough already. “In the interests of further disclosure, I should probably tell you that this curse gets worse as time goes on. It’ll be manageable for the next half hour or so, but after that it gets difficult.”

“That’ll be fine,” Vell said. He’d solved more complicated problems in less time. These ghosts didn’t even shoot lightning. That he knew of. “Do these ghosts shoot lightning, by any chance?”

“No, why would they?”

“Just a random question, don’t worry about it,” Vell said.

“I’m starting to get the feeling you might be almost as strange as me, Vell Harlan.”

Vell tried very hard not to laugh at that.

----------------------------------------

“Vell, that says ‘Do Not Enter’.”

“I know, I know,” Vell said. “It’s fine.”

The loopers put warning signs on their lair and some storage closets they used, to keep people from stumbling across their weapon stockpiles. They also put warning signs on things that needed warning signs, of which there were a lot. Vell opened the door regardless of the warning sign and started rummaging through containers.

“Dragon bezoar, dragon bezoar...where’s the fucking dragon bezoar?”

“Do you...want some help?”

In spite of her offer, Amy actually stepped further away from the various containers. One contained the petrified head of something only partially human, and another appeared to mostly contain a deep black ooze.

“I’m good, there’s a lot of stuff here you probably shouldn’t be sticking your hand in,” Vell said, as he carefully moved aside a vial of super-acid.

“Where do you even get all this stuff?”

“The short version is that my friends and I solve problems,” Vell said. “The school has a lot of weird problems, so we have a lot of weird leftovers. Honestly, this isn’t even all of it.”

The lair also had a large extradimensional space full of leftover loop garbage. None had dared to catalog its contents yet, though Lee was making a plan to do so. For now, the loopers kept most of their supplies in more mundane storage closets.

“Mind standing outside? Some of this stuff is supposed to be secret,” Vell said. “Also, don’t let anyone wander in.”

Amy glanced sideways at a jar of what appeared to be human teeth, and then stepped outside. She stood on her own for about a minute before a problem presented itself.

“Ms. Sek Keong,” Dean Lichman said. He stepped past a ghost as it formed. “I hate to intrude, but you do seem to be summoning ghosts.”

“Not on purpose. It’s a-”

“Beta-class grave curse, yes, I’m aware,” Dean Lichman said. “You’re lucky curses of this variety only endanger you. If you’d been sustaining a more dangerous curse effect this long we’d be talking suspension.”

The ghosts summoned by Amy’s curse were only interested in harming her, and would ignore any other bystanders. Dean Lichman knew this, so his supernatural compulsion to protect students was only active at a low level, but still active.

“I am going to have to ask you to put an end to this, however. This isn’t an approved or properly contained experiment.”

“It’s getting handled,” Amy insisted.

“If it’s being handled now, it can be handled in a safe and responsible manner later,” Dean Lichman said. “Please understand that-”

Vell stepped out of the storage closet and held up the dragon bezoar.

“Found it. Oh, hey Dean Lichman.”

“Oh, hello Vell,” he said. “Are you helping Ms. Sek Keong with this curse?”

“Reluctantly, but yes,” Vell said.

“Ah. Well, carry on then. Enjoy yourselves.”

Dean Lichman waved goodbye and walked down the hallway, his compulsion to protect his students well-sated. He had no reason to fear with Vell Harlan and company on the case. They were such effective problem-solvers that sometimes his protective instincts didn’t even kick in, as Vell and Lee had already solved the problem by the time he was even aware of it.

“You do this a lot, huh?”

“More than I’d like, yes,” Vell said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone to call Lee. “Lee, I’ve got the gray bezoar. Do we need anything else? I don’t want to make two trips.”

“I have everything else on hand, thank you dear,” Lee said. “Adele would like a weapon, though, if you’re bringing the ghost army back.”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“Is she still there? I sort of, uh, figured she’d leave, no offense.”

“I’m surprised and slightly concerned by her willingness to endure ghost armies and curses as well,” Lee said. “But apparently a date is a date.”

Vell glanced sideways at Amy as she punched a ghost. She had surprisingly good form.

“I guess. I’ll be back soon.”

He kept the bezoar tucked under his arm as he put the phone back in his pocket.

“Keep punching a second, I need to grab something,” Vell said.

“I can’t exactly stop,” Amy snapped back, as another ghost appeared and was promptly punched.

“That’s the spirit,” Vell said. He walked to the opposite side of the room and unlatched the weapons locker, sidestepping the magic sword that fell out. “Ah, shit, I should’ve asked what kind of weapon she wanted.”

“I’m sorry, has there been a locker full of weapons here the whole time?” Amy said, as her sore knuckles slammed into the thirty-seventh ghost in the past few minutes.

“Oh, my bad, I thought you were good with just the ghost punching tattoos,” Vell said. “Do you want a sword? We’ve got a lot of swords.”

“Sword’ll work,” Amy said. After open-palm slapping another ghost away, she did a diving roll in Vell’s direction and snatched the sword off the ground. Quickly taking aim, she hurled the sword through the ancient ghost warrior’s chest and then retrieved the blade from the collapsing pile of ectoplasm it became.

“Nice moves.”

“Thanks. I was a bit of a flirt when I was a teenager, so I got a lot of practice,” Amy said.

“You’d think you’d get a reputation,” Vell said. He drew his pistols and shot two ghosts before they could fully form. “This is sort of hard to miss.”

“Honestly, for some people it was part of the appeal,” Amy said. “You get to date a cute girl and fight a ghost. Teenagers are into that kind of thing.”

Vell shrugged. It wasn’t exactly his thing, but he’d known plenty of guys in high school who might’ve liked to fight a ghost. He put the conversation aside and focused on getting the bezoar back to Lee.

----------------------------------------

“Catch.”

Vell tossed the bezoar to Lee, who almost, but not quite, caught it. After fumbling and bouncing it between her hands for a few seconds, Lee gave up, let the stone drop, and then picked it up off the ground. She placed it squarely in the center of her ritual circle and then prepared the next step. Meanwhile, Amy handed the sword over to Adele.

“I am going to need a small sample of your blood, Amy,” Lee said. Adele extended the sword back in her direction.

“I don’t need a whole sword for that,” Amy said. She withdrew a small, rune-engraved swiss army knife from her purse and pricked her finger on the corkscrew, offering the droplet of blood to Lee.

“Alright, now things are going to get a bit noisy,” Lee said. Her fingertips began to glow an arcane purple as she swept her hands through myriad magical gestures. The ritual circle she’d drawn started to glow in turn, thrumming violently with magical power that bore Lee aloft on a current of mana.

“Is she supposed to be levitating?” Amy whispered.

“It’s optional. I think she likes the aesthetic,” Vell whispered back.

The aesthetic only improved as bolts of purple lightning shot out from Lee’s fingertips and coursed through the dragon bezoar. The ritual circle glowed even brighter, and symbols carved from pure octarine light started to manifest in the air, spelling out ancient arcane scripts. The ghosts were starting to manifest faster now, though they were motionless, watching the magic ritual with blank, long-dead eyes as Lee started to read.

“Blood of your blood, by my grave defiled, my hate will linger until- oh, damn it all.”

The levitating stopped, and Lee hopped to the ground, though much of the arcane glow remained. Lee took a few steps closer to the ancient arcana and reread the text of the curse.

“I should’ve known there’d be a clause,” Lee said. “Love related curses always do this, it’s complete nonsense!”

“What?” Amy asked. “What’s going on?”

“There’s a technicality that has to be fulfilled, because of course there is,” Lee said. “There might be a workaround, but I’ll need time.”

“Well, why do we need a workaround, what’s the actual clause?”

“Well it’s a curse on your love life, so naturally it has to be broken with true love’s kiss,” Lee said, rolling her eyes as she did so. Amy glanced in Vell’s direction.

“What are you looking at me for?” He snapped. “I wasn’t sure about you before you sicced a ghost army on me.”

“Okay, fair enough,” Amy said.

“Well, hold on, there is a technicality within the technicality,” Lee said. She squinted to examine some of the arcane fine print. “It doesn’t specify anywhere that it has to be your true love’s kiss. Could be anyone, really.”

Amy and Vell shared a look and a nod.

“Lee?”

“I suppose there have to be some decent couples on this island,” Lee said. “God help us all if we invite someone and the kiss doesn’t break the curse, though, that’d be awkward.”

“Lee.”

“Maybe some of the professors are married, I think there were some in the physics department…”

“Lee!”

“What?”

Amy and Vell pointed behind Lee in perfect unison. She spun in place, finding herself face to face with Adele, who was staring back at her with a sparkle in her eyes.

“Ah,” Lee said, as she turned redder than she had ever been before. She glanced sideways at Vell, who had already turned his back, knowing Lee well enough to know she wouldn’t want an audience. He was giving a thumbs-up, though. The sign of encouragement did manage to make a small dent in Lee’s icy hesitation.

“I’m...not opposed. If you, er, rather, I’m in agreement, if that is something you want to-” Lee stammered. “We could- I mean, I am willing- or-”

At this point Adele realized that Lee would spend the entire day blushing and stammering if she let her -so Adele didn’t let her. She leaned forward and shut Lee up with a kiss.

Lee froze in place, unsure of what to do with the rest of her body while her lips were occupied kissing. She knew she should be doing something, anything else, but she had no idea exactly what, and the idea that she was somehow kissing wrong sent a chill down her spine. She also had her eyes open the entire time, another rookie mistake, but one that allowed her to see the octarine light of the ritual circle flaring, and then fading, around her. The fading hues of purple were what finally calmed Lee down. It was a horrible, awful, absolutely unforgivably bad kiss -but it was true love’s kiss all the same.

Adele pulled away, opened her eyes, and saw the last fading dregs of magic flicker away.

“It worked,” she signed.

“Yes. It...it worked,” Lee mumbled. The red started to fade from her face, and then got pumped right back into it when Adele took her hand and gave it a tight squeeze.

In far less romantic news, Amy watched the ghosts of the ancient Khmer warriors begin to fade away one by one. A thin wisp of black smoke trailed off her body, like ashes from a fire. She’d never actually seen a curse be permanently broken before, but she knew instinctively that the curse haunting her dating life was lifted.

“Wow. Never thought I’d see the day,” Amy said. She turned to face away from the fading ghosts, towards those who had helped them fade. “Thank you, guys. I don’t know what to say.”

“It was no trouble,” Lee said. She started to flick her hands through the gestures of one last checkup spell and glanced bashfully at Adele. “Actually had quite a few upsides. But now you should be one-hundred percent curse-”

Lee stopped herself mid-sentence and made a grunt of confusion. Her fingertip was glowing black.

“Amy, dear...you’re still cursed.”

“Oh, yeah, that is, uh, that’s probably the other curses,” Amy said, all too casually.

“Other curses?”

“Yeah, my grandpa liked to rob graves,” Amy said. “Our whole bloodline is just fucked up with the vengeance of the desecrated dead. I think we’re on like thirty seven, thirty six curses maybe?”

“Uh...would you like some help with that?”

“No, no, I’ve caused enough trouble for you already,” Amy said. “And, honestly, they all cover way more obscure things, so not a big deal. I never liked roller coasters anyway.”

“Okay then, well...do keep in touch if you change your mind,” Lee said. “Thank you for an interesting evening.”

Adele took Lee by the hand and the two walked away side by side, practically shoulder to shoulder as they walked. Amy took a last look at the wisps of ectoplasm on the grass, and then turned to Vell.

“So…”

“So what?” Vell said. He took a few steps backwards and fell into a sitting position on a nearby staircase. Amy followed him, though she took a seat much more gracefully.

“So I am curse-free, partially, and I can date wherever and whenever I want,” Amy said, before remembering a few caveats. “Except amusement parks, anywhere ten-thousand feet above sea level, and the entire country of Mongolia. So unless your ideal date is one of those places, maybe we could…?”

Vell rubbed a hand along his face and let out a deep, rumbling sigh.

“We shouldn’t,” he said. “I mean, my life is complex, and your life is complex, and if we try to mash that together it’s just going to get more complex.”

“Yeah, but it also means we both know how to deal with ‘complex’,” Amy said. “Maybe we’re the same kind of mess.”

The two sat in silence for a moment, watching the ashes of the ritual circle drift away on the wind.

“I just can’t,” Vell said. He just couldn’t get past Amy keeping a potentially dangerous secret from him -nor could he ever seen himself telling her about the rune on his back, or Quenay. Vell couldn’t see himself having a successful relationship with one-sided trust, much less no trust at all.

“I get it,” Amy sighed. After a moment of quiet contemplation, she raised her fist and gave him a light punch on the shoulder. “You’re still sitting next to me in class, though, no matter how fucking awkward it gets. Don’t you dare leave me alone with Reg.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Vell said with a chuckle. “Nobody deserves to suffer Reg alone.”

“Damn right,” Amy grunted. She stood and gave a stiff, awkward nod in Vell’s direction. “See you around, Harlan.”

“See you.”

Amy departed, to enjoy a slightly less cursed life than before, and Vell stayed behind. He sat on the stairs alone for a while, though he wasn’t sure how long. Long enough for news to spread, apparently.

“Vell Harlan, how dare you!”

A pint-sized ball of crimson spitfire came roaring in Vell’s direction, and Harley planted herself at Vell’s side.

“You fought a whole ghost army and didn’t even text me?”

“We were preoccupied,” Vell said. His lame excuses did nothing to sooth Harley’s temper, though his solemn mood did. She could tell Vell was a weird sort of upset.

“So, other than the ghost army, how’d the double date go?”

“Pretty well for Lee,” Vell said. “She kissed Adele.”

“I know, she called me and screamed about it as soon as they went their separate ways,” Harley said. “Actually screamed, by the way, my ear still sort of hurts.”

“Figures.”

“I meant with you and Amy,” Harley clarified. Vell shrugged.

“I’m sitting here alone, aren’t I?”

Harley leaned over and rested her head on Vell’s scrawny shoulder. He always got a little sarcastic when he was upset.

“I’m sorry, Vell,” she said quietly.

“Shit happens.”

“It still sucks,” Harley said. “You got a lot of love in that big ol’ heart of yours, Vell Harlan. You’ll find somebody to give it all to someday.”

“I guess.”

Harley snuggled in a little closer and allowed herself a rare moment of silence with Vell. The wind blew away the last traces of the failed date/successful ritual, and a purple butterfly drifted on the breeze. It landed on the stair rail nearest Vell, fanned it’s wings a few times, and then departed.

“So,” Harley said. “You want to bang?”

“Sure.”