“He shouldn’t…” Harry muttered, sipping his tea. “No, he shouldn’t! That’s impossible!”

I’d never really thought about it before, but ghosts and spirits were, in a way, a type of elemental – like the living rocks of the Ancient Stones of Bremor. Sometimes, they would take humanoid or animal forms, consume stockpiles of reservoir stones, and then wander the forest. But there’s a big difference between encountering them in the woods – a place where hunters don’t go without a gun, special ammunition, and a readiness to face danger – and meeting them in your bedroom, where you’re no longer a hunter, but just a tired, relaxed person completely unprepared for a fight. Unexpected encounters with aggressive magical anomalies aren’t great for anyone’s mental health. And if you’re also afraid of ghosts… well, that’s about the worst-case scenario for someone living near an etheric source.

I didn’t know what torments Cap’s restless father’s ghost had brought him, but Nathan was scared to death of ghosts. It took all we had to calm him down. Even hugging Knuckles, who had come running to the commotion armed with useless in this situation submachine gun, wasn’t enough to help the kid fall asleep. Harry had to resort to a sleep spell to finally knock him out. After that, he cast a few more protective spells on the walls, and we relocated to the kitchen, where I recounted my encounter with Simon and voiced my fears about Valentine over a cup of tea.

Harry grew deeply thoughtful. He was on his third cup of tea by then, muttering to himself: “…Butcher’s Trap, or maybe Seal of Woodhouse?”

I didn’t want to interrupt him, so I ran up to his study and grabbed a couple of books on etheric entities and protective spells. I opened my working journal and started sketching formulas. By the time Harry finally spoke, I’d finished designing a monstrous construct of three interlocked rhombuses with fifteen runes. The rhombuses were nested one inside the other, with the sharp corners of the smaller ones touching the blunt edges of the larger ones. The entire structure was stabilized by metal and earth runes on the outside and etheric ones on the inside, making it solid, durable, and as heavy as a lumberjack’s axe. But this led to yet another problem: my strength was barely enough to charge the etheric runes and lines. For the metal and earth runes, I’d have to lug around the appropriate reservoir stones.

“No, I don’t think so!” Harry said suddenly, slamming his empty cup on the table. “The likelihood of Valentine becoming a ghost is extremely low. According to some theories, a vampire’s life is already a kind of afterlife. The dark energy that forms their spiritual heart doesn’t leave the body after death. It’s not definitive proof, but I’m inclined to believe it.”

“And Simon? Wasn’t he infected with vampirism?”

“Infected, yes, but not transformed!” Harry raised a knobby finger as if delivering a lecture and tried to take another sip from his empty cup. Realizing his mistake, he poured himself more tea and offered me some with a gesture. I slid my cup closer and nodded gratefully.

“Besides,” Harry continued, “in his final moments, his overwhelming desire was to bash your head in.”

“But he’s smart, damn it!” I burst out.

“Ah, well, I believe the mass deaths of chimeras and the ether-drenched air played a role there.”

“So, what? Is he going to visit me every night now?”

“Not tonight. You can sleep peacefully tonight.”

“Thanks a lot!” I snapped sarcastically, irritated by my own frustration and helplessness. “And tomorrow? Should I be expecting another guest from the other side?”

“Probably… yes.”

“Fantastic,” I sighed. “Wait… the Wilcox House! I’ve already paid the rent there a month in advance. Sure, Flower won’t be thrilled if I move in next to his precious sister, but at this point, that seems like the lesser evil.”

“I’m moving tomorrow,” I told Harry.

“It didn’t work last time,” the wizard pointed out.

“I’m not hiding from vampires this time,” I retorted.

“James…”

“He’ll deal with it. I hope you’ll solve this problem soon enough.”

“Of course. I’ve got a few ideas, but the solution will be temporary. To truly fix this, the Anvil will need to be rebuilt. Then we could get rid of the ghosts entirely.”

“Completely?” I asked skeptically.

“What’s bothering you?” he asked.

“Elementals' bodies are usually full of valuable ingredients. In Bremor, that’s a whole separate source of income. Isn’t ectoplasm a valuable alchemical resource?”

“Hmm…” Harry muttered, scratching his chin. “Ectoplasm is nothing compared to ghost teeth, claws, or eyes. Those are the real prizes – damn hard to get.”

“I’ve never heard of those as ingredients,” I admitted. “Are they real?”

“That’s because they’re rarely used in alchemy. They’re components for the most powerful artifacts. They are real!”

“You’re the boss – It’s up to you,” I shrugged. “Take a look at this.” I slid the journal with my spell diagram toward him.

“Ah, a warlock’s education in action,” Harry grumbled.

“It’s a good education!” I argued.

“Considering you were trained to be a warlock, I’d say it’s excellent! But for a wizard, it’s not enough. You’ll never have an unlimited reserve. You can’t endlessly spray sparks at an enemy or hammer away with fireballs until you drop from exhaustion.”

“Strictly speaking, warlocks don’t have unlimited reserves either,” I countered. “The most complex feats leave them drained for a week and require significant preparation.”

“And the simplest ones – capable of putting a hole in an unprotected head – a warlock can cast thirty or forty times in a row.”

“That’s comparable to the average reserve of a combat staff.”

“Without the staff,” Harry reminded me. “A warlock can attack faster than you can even open your spellbook. Forget about heavy, bulky spells until you can extract them from the page without even looking. Four corners, nine runes – that’s your limit.”

“But wizards have quick spells too – one for each energy node. Stenn wrote that the integration is mostly random, but the odds improve with frequent use.”

“Ah, now I see what you’re getting at,” Harry said, understanding dawning on his face. “Duncan, forget about warlock tactics already. First, quick spells also drain your energy. Second, you’re looking far too far ahead.”

“Admit it – something useful, like your telekinesis or dimensional pocket, is way better than a chain of runes to scare off ghosts.”

“Well, it’s not exactly telekinesis,” Harry replied smugly, tugging at his neatly trimmed beard.

“What is it, then?”

“A sheep-shearing spell.”

“What?!”

“Exactly what I said. It’s for shearing sheep. It took me eighteen years to open my Third Eye. All that time, I was collecting books on magic – and, well, I still had to eat. I took any job I could get. Sheep-shearing was dull work, but it earned me an honest coin.”

“But once your Eye was open, why didn’t you find a mentor? They would have taken you in.”

“Oh, they would have taken me in all right – straight into servitude. Work for the master, fund his retirement, all in exchange for two or three scraps of advice and the right to read his library. After eighteen years of rejection, I wasn’t exactly feeling generous toward their offers. And honestly, they didn’t have much to give me at that point. By then, I had amassed a decent theoretical foundation. All I lacked was money. So, I took the first opportunity that came my way. Not a single regret.

“Stenn barely mentions it, but an integrated spell greatly expands a wizard’s capabilities. I could hold you in the air for five minutes straight or chop down a tree in one swipe. But even the simplest etheric shield can stop my blade. Trust me – a large arsenal of simple spells is far more useful in battle than heavy, complex constructs.”

“So, I can add all the basic shields to my first ten spells?”

“No! I said to focus on what you’ll actually use.”

“This one, I’ll definitely use,” I promised, pointing to the journal with my spell diagram.

Harry crossed out my diagram and, next to it, sketched a cat’s pupil. Inside it, he drew three ether runes stacked vertically. Two more runes were placed outside the figure, one on each side. Then he handed the journal back to me.

“With your basic understanding, you have an odd tendency to overcomplicate constructs. Now, I’m not saying your design isn’t functional – It’s solid, reliable… As a support ritual, when you’ve got plenty of time and a mountain of reservoir stones. Its combat value, however, is negligible. And as for your first ‘quick spell,’ don’t worry – It’s anything but quick. It took me two years to integrate mine. First, learn to extract spells from paper, then I’ll show you how I mastered the dimensional pocket – It might help you too. Any more questions?”

“Just one.”

“Go ahead.”

“How many sheep can you shear at once?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Harry groaned. “Have some respect for your teacher. You’ll be punished.”

“Hey, I’m still serving out the last punishment!” I protested.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“And clearly it wasn’t harsh enough, if you’re back to being cheeky. I’ll have to come up with something more serious this time.”

“Harry, don’t overdo it!”

But Harry was already in character as the stern mentor.

“We’ll see… Let’s see how you behave until your current punishment ends. I’ll think of something that’ll really get through to you. You’ve gotten far too unruly.”

“Harry!”

“I’m kidding! What, only you get to joke around? Now go to bed. I’ll check the grounds and perform a couple of rituals.”

“Don’t stay up all night. There’s the reception tomorrow.”

“I know,” Harry replied with a grimace, as if he’d just bitten into a lemon.

“Be a friend and hit me with a sleep spell, or I’ll be tossing and turning all night.”

Harry didn’t even bother pulling out his book. He traced a short formula in the air with his finger and flicked it in my direction. I was nowhere near that level of control yet.

“Thanks.” I felt a yawn split my face in two and hurried off to bed. I don’t even remember undressing, but in the morning, my clothes were neatly folded on the chair.

The first thing I did was check on Cap. His room was empty, so I headed downstairs with peace of mind. The boy was bustling about the kitchen, cooking as if he hadn’t seen any ghosts the night before. Oatmeal bubbled on the stove, sausages sizzled in the pan, and tea was brewing.

“Morning,” I said with a yawn.

“Morning,” Cap replied, throwing me a quick glance before flipping the sausages. “Breakfast will be ready in five minutes.”

“Feeling better after last night?”

Nathan’s shoulders gave an involuntary twitch.

“I’m fine,” he lied.

I could’ve pressed him, but raising the younger apprentice was Harry’s job. Who knew – I could easily ruin the whole pedagogical process with my well-meaning attempts.

“Where is everyone?” I asked.

“Knuckles is polishing the car. The teacher’s in the study.”

“Your brother’s lost his mind. One of these days, he’ll marry that hunk of metal.”

“He won’t,” Nathan shot back with a grin. “One hunk of metal isn’t enough for him. Sausages are done. Should I pour the oatmeal?”

“Pour it,” I said with a nod. “I’ll go get the others.”

I shouted for Knuckles from the door, then headed to knock on the study door. Harry answered quickly. When the door opened, I saw the wizard’s tired face, dark circles under his eyes.

“You were right!” Harry announced, shoving two vials into my hand.

“You didn’t sleep at all, did you?” I asked, examining the clear liquid inside. It gave off a strong etheric aura. “Ectoplasm?”

“That’s the one. Though I don’t need it myself…”

“Can I send it to my folks? Bryce will pay a good price.”

“Sure, but you’ll need a special container, or it’ll evaporate.”

“Even from a sealed vial?”

“Etheric base,” Harry reminded me. “What did you want?”

“Come have breakfast. Nathan’s got everything ready.”

"One moment," Harry said, snatching the vials back. "It’s better to leave these here."

He disappeared through the door for a moment and returned with a large glass jar with a hermetically sealed clasped lid. The kind used for canned peaches – except Harry had canned a ghost rat inside. It looked like a perfectly ordinary rat, nothing like the chimeras that had attacked the house alongside the vampires.

“Could you do the same with Simon?” I asked. Maybe I wouldn’t have to move out after all.

“Unfortunately, it’s hard to find a jar big enough for him.”

“Very funny. Seriously though?” I extended a hand and tapped on the glass.

The rat, previously calm and lethargic, changed instantly. Its eyes lit up with a crimson glow, and its jaws filled with jagged fangs. It lunged at the glass, spreading itself across the surface in a distorted mass of translucent crimson eyes and grotesque teeth. I yanked my hand back.

“If Simon gets like that, a trap wouldn’t hold him. But I’m working on it,” Harry said.

“Great. And where are you taking this? Trying to scare the kid half to death?”

“The longer someone lives with their fears, the harder it is to get rid of them,” Harry replied, stepping ahead of me on the way to the kitchen.

“Harry, he’s a child,” I reminded him.

“I highly doubt you were coddled growing up,” the wizard shot back. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself tangled up with that spirit. If you want a boy to become a man, you have to treat him like one.”

Harry stopped outside the kitchen door, left the jar on the floor just outside, and stepped inside. The Sparrow brothers, sitting at the table, had waited dutifully for the master of the house before starting breakfast.

“Smells wonderful,” Harry said, nodding approvingly at Cap.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Recovered fully from yesterday’s fright?” Harry asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“So, if I showed you a ghost right now, you wouldn’t scream like a little girl? Because I caught one.”

Nathan’s eyes widened, his shoulders stiffened, but he answered stubbornly:

“No, sir.”

“Excellent! Let’s deal with it before breakfast.”

Harry turned back to the hallway, grabbed the jar, and placed it on the table next to the kettle. Cap went pale, his hands gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white. Knuckles, meanwhile, looked at his brother with concern and opened his mouth to say something, but Harry cut him off.

“The jar is enchanted. It can’t get out.”

Cap stared at the rat, both mesmerized and terrified. The creature had reverted to its regular appearance, aside from its ghostly translucence.

“Should I dispel it myself, or will you give it a try?” Harry asked.

“I-I don’t know how,” Nathan stammered, shaking his head.

Harry tipped the jar on its side to reveal the seal on the lid. The ghost inside flared up again, spreading itself across the glass in rage, but from the Sparrows’ angle, it didn’t look nearly as terrifying. The lid was on the way to the picture.

“You don’t even need to activate it like the ring we practiced with. The seal works on contact.”

“Can I practice first… on an empty jar?” Nathan asked.

“What would you practice? Touching the lid?”

The boy sighed, then reached out with a trembling hand. As soon as his fingers brushed the central rune on the lid, the seal flared with ether. The ghost inside stopped its furious rampage, dissolved into blue smoke, and fell apart. Harry turned the jar upright so Nathan could see what was happening inside. The smoke quickly dissipated, condensing into small droplets of ectoplasm at the bottom.

Simon didn’t turn into goo like this – another point in favor of my theory that Feron hadn’t stopped ruining my life.

Harry washed his hands quickly and took a seat at the table.

“Let’s eat,” he said, stabbing a sausage with his fork and bringing it to his mouth. But he froze mid-motion, his eyes going glassy. I’d seen that expression before – it usually meant unexpected guests.

“Who is it?” I asked.

“Your old acquaintance.”

Ellie or Finella? Probably the first.

“Am I supposed to guess? Maybe just tell me the name?”

“Kate,” Harry said.

Lindemann... Master vampire... The daughter of a bloodsucker who had used me to eliminate his competition and tried to kill me through others. I wondered what she needed after my cousin Evan twisted her father’s head off. Then again, she might not know about that last part. But she definitely knew that Harry and I had visited the site where her sister had been crucified.

“I’ll escort her!” Cap immediately volunteered. Vampires, unlike ghosts, didn’t scare him – which was a mistake. With this lady, you had to be on your guard.

I set down my cutlery.

“She’s alone?”

“Alone,” Harry confirmed.

“Then I’ll go meet her.”

I didn’t head out right away. First, I went back to my room, strapped on the gun holster, slipped on my rings and amulet cufflinks, slung my satchel with potions and the brick amulet over my shoulder, and only then stepped outside.

I passed the traps and seals in the park in front of the manor and finally reached the wrought-iron gates, where Kate had parked her shiny blue roadster. True to her style, the vampire was once again dressed in a bright red suit and a matching wide-brimmed hat. Only her gloves and oversized sunglasses were black.

“Hello, Duncan,” she called, waving her hand with a bright, lipstick-stained smile.

I approached the gate and opened it.

“Good afternoon. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Can’t I drop by to check on an old friend’s health?”

“Considering the kind of interest your father took in my health, and how that turned out, I’m starting to worry.”

“Oh, stop it. You and I have a different story. I even saved your life a few times.”

“Why are you here, Kate?” I asked seriously.

The vampire stopped smiling and answered just as seriously:

“Have you seen her?”

“Your sister?”

Kate nodded.

“They won’t release the body. They won’t tell me anything. I had to pay an outrageous sum just to learn they suspect some kind of maniac. Apparently, he sends sinners straight to the next world. Is it true?”

“Apparently,” I replied, deciding not to deny it. The information had already leaked.

“Duncan, I want to find him and rip his rotten heart from his chest. I need details. Everything you saw. I’ll owe you one.”

What could be worse than being in debt to a vampire? Only having a vampire in debt to you.

“Sunset asked me not to talk about it,” I lied. Or did he really say something like that?

“Duncan, darling,” Kate said, her lips darkening. The red lipstick deepened, turning the shade of ripe cherries while keeping the same glossy sheen. Her voice dropped, becoming impossibly low and enticing, imbued with an immense depth, a hint of longing, and vulnerability. “Please, tell me.”

“Fine,” I agreed.

“What?” Kate looked genuinely surprised.

“I’ll tell you.”

“You’re joking? That was too easy,” she said, as her lips returned to their usual color.

“I don’t understand you.”

“Never mind,” she murmured, her voice once again sultry, and her lips turning cherry-red once more. “Go on, sweetie.”

I told her everything, starting from our arrival at the crime scene. I even mentioned the color of Chief Inspector Pumpkin’s shoes. I hadn’t expected such trivial details to have stayed lodged in my brain.

“Thank you, Duncan. You’ve really helped me. Whatever you might think of our relationship, I’d like to stay your friend.”

Something primal stirred in me. Despite the fact that five minutes ago, I couldn’t care less about her, it suddenly became clear to me that having this woman was all I’d ever want. Only she could make me happy! I needed to explain this to her, but Kate spoke first:

“Wait! Don’t say anything.” She pulled a small shiny revolver out of her pocket. “It’s empty. If I asked you to press it to your temple and pull the trigger, would you do it?”

“Of course,” I replied, without the slightest hesitation.

“Ha! Boy, you’ve got serious problems with compulsion. And I won’t take advantage of it, only because I’d like to keep things friendly. Call me when you recover. No, don’t say anything! And this is a gift,” she said, placing the revolver in my hand. “Put it in your pocket. Don’t press it to your temple! Goodbye.”

Kate slid into her roadster and was gone from the street before I could even think of objecting.

For a few minutes, I stood there staring after the car. Then the absurdity and irrationality of everything that had just happened hit me like a ton of bricks. I pulled the revolver from my pocket, broke the barrel, and saw a fully loaded chamber. A chill ran down my spine. I dumped the bullets into my palm and saw fire and iron magic infused into each one. These little devils could punch through not one, but ten thick skulls with ease!

“Problems with compulsion? This is a complete disaster!”