A filmy mass hovered on the path up ahead and left. I froze, felt my heart speed up as she began to take shape—long, fluttering hair, a rounded face. It was the ghost I’d seen from the window as I was being sucked dry by poison.
She stood, watching me, wearing that same old-fashioned wedding gown.
She beckoned me with a long, bony finger.
“Oh, hell.”
“Ha! You cussed. This must be serious. What did you find? I’ll eat it.”
“Can it, Pirate.” Things had changed.
I didn’t know if she was evil or good. A helper, or a creature that wanted to lure me to my doom.
Now or never.
“Come on, Pirate,” I said, leading him toward the darkened path.
Chapter Fourteen
The dead woman had to pick the darkest, twistiest path. We followed her anyway. She wanted to show us something, and as far as I was concerned, the more I could learn about this place, the closer I was to determining what in Hades was happening to me and to my possessed wedding guest.
Of course, I have to admit it was a bit nerve wracking when the path took a sudden twist and we lost sight of the clearing behind us.
“Stick close, Pirate,” I ordered.
For once in his life, my dog listened. He kept his nose to the ground and ears up as we trailed the ghost deeper into the garden.
The tangling vines above us grew thicker. The air was heavier with every breath, every step. The ghost widened the distance between us. I could still see her, barely, on the shadowed path ahead. She hovered higher as the path twisted once more.
“See that?” I muttered to my dog, “she’s changing.” She was even beginning to fade.
“I still don’t see anything.” Pirate sniffed the air. “Can’t smell her, either.”
I stepped past part of the trellis that had fallen in. It had broken in several places back here. Tree branches shot through, garden debris spilled onto the path. It was as if the entire structure was under siege.
“Do ghosts even have smells?” I was afraid to take my eyes off her as she passed through a waterfall of wild ivy.
“Everything has a smell,” he said, as if it were obvious. “Like this place? It smells like rotten flowers and mucky dirt.”
I didn’t need his nose to tell me that.
“It’s actually kind of nice,” Pirate mused. The leaves to the left of me crackled as he paused to bury his nose in a pile of dead foliage. “Um hum. I’m detecting floral tones with a touch of dark oak. Dry, with a surprising boldness.”
“Focus.” I knew he was a connoisseur, but we didn’t have the time.
It worried me that the dog with such a natural affinity for specters couldn’t contact or see this one. Of course, all the ghosts Pirate had met had been benevolent.
I rested a hand on my switch stars, wondering if they even worked on the dead.
“Well, I think this is a very nice path,” Pirate said, as I stepped over a fallen log and he ducked under it. “This is fun, right?”
Not when the garden grew darker. My stomach grew heavy with dread. I didn’t need demon slayer mojo to tell me something was very wrong here. I could feel it in the way prey senses a predator. It was as if we were being watched, hunted. Lured closer for the kill.
There would be no one to help us out here. We were on our own.
The poisoned wedding dress was only the beginning. I had no doubt the next strike would be more violent.
I stumbled a little as I stepped into a hole. It seemed that everything I’d counted on was crumbling underneath my feet.
“I’m glad they’re trying to axe me,” I muttered to myself. Better me than someone I loved.
Pirate spun, scattering leaves. “Who’s got an axe?”
“No one,” I said. No sense worrying the dog.
I had enough on my mind for both of us. We were nearing a third twist in the path and so far, Pirate hadn’t once tried to race out in front. Sure, I’d told him to stick close, but that never stopped him before. Pirate always had to be first.
My dog might not be able to sense the specter in a more traditional sense, but I had no doubt that he knew, somewhere in his doggie subconscious, that she was there.
The ghost disappeared around the bend. I rubbed my sweaty palms on my dress and followed. When I made it around the corner, I was shocked to see that she’d stopped. She was waiting for me.
Slowly, she turned to face us. Her expression was unreadable, her hair, a tangle of curls. It floated in the ether like a halo. Her body had mostly vanished. I could see straight through her to the wall of ivy on the other side.
We were at a dead end.
I suddenly felt claustrophobic, trapped. I desperately wanted to look behind me. It felt as if I had my entire back exposed, like something could sneak up at any moment. But I didn’t dare take my eyes off her.
“Help me.” Her words floated between us.
She faded into the shadows. Gone.
Pirate hit me with a wet nose to the shin. “What’s she doing now?”
The shock of it brought me back. I glanced over my shoulder at the shadowed path behind us. “She left.” As far as I knew.
I turned to see if she was above us, lingering on either side. I tried to sense her in the air. There was nothing. It was as if we’d been dropped down the rabbit hole.
“You mean she brought us to a wall?” Pirate asked, venturing out ahead to sniff.
“Yes.” She’d taken us straight into a dead end. “Maybe there’s something unusual about this spot.” There had to be a reason why we’d come here. I reached out to touch the barrier. “We might be able to slide it or push it out of the way.”
“Oooh,” Pirate warmed to the idea instantly. “Like MacGyver!”
“You know that’s not real,” I said, anxious to get out of there, knowing I couldn’t until we found whatever the ghost had been trying to show us.
“It’s not just a TV show. It could happen,” Pirate insisted as he tried to jam his nose underneath the wall.
“Remind me to dog-block Nick at Night,” I said, running my hands over the corners of the wall, trying to find a gate or break in the structure.
“Now that’s cruel.”
I didn’t find an opening in the traditional sense, but I managed to pull some ivy back. We weren’t looking at a solid wall, but another iron trellis. This one was welded onto the path, obstructing us.
“What do you have in your demon slayer belt?” Pirate prodded. “What we could really use is a paper clip, a rubber band, and about twenty pounds of explosives.”
“Try switch stars and magic crystals.” Actually, Pirate’s idea wasn’t half bad. “Stand back,” I told him.
I drew a switch star from my belt. The blades churned. My body tensed. “Now.” I hurled it at the uppermost joint holding the trellis.
The switch star spun on its axis, sawing straight down.
