The Trial of the Ghost
Chapter 7: Happy New Year
Allelosin stood there, time slipping away from him like water through loose fingers. He wasn’t really sure when she finally pulled him aside or when she got there.
Shock.
He had been dimly aware that he’d been in shock while watching the firefighters trying to salvage anything. He was dimly aware that there was a crowd around him, that people were crying and holding onto each other.
He wasn’t entirely unconvinced this wasn’t a bad dream.
Not until she showed up.
Kra.
He wasn’t sure why or how or when, but she pulled him aside and held him as he broke down into tears. She’d held him and whispered, “It’s going to be okay, you’re going to be okay,” into his hair as the final sobs racked through his body.
He pulled away and pulled out his phone. He didn’t unlock it the first few times, fumbling the pin, but eventually got it, called Rox.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Ring.
Voicemail.
He felt something tighten in his chest but left a voicemail for his roommate. He needed to know. He needed to know that something was wrong.
“Hey, Rox, it’s me. But you know that from the caller id.” He laughed bitterly. It seemed like the only thing he could do. “Yeah, um, the building is burning. I have no idea how it started yet or if anything can be recovered, but it’s something to deal with when you get back. So, enjoy the rest of your vacation? Yeah, um, bye.”
Losin hung up and groaned. It was the middle of the night here. It was probably early morning in Ivran, four hours ahead. There was no way any of them were up and able to answer a phone right now. He was so stupid.
“Los?” Kra asked, her voice soft. “What can I do?”
“I… I… I don't know.” It was the truth and Kra pursed her lips, hating she could do nothing.
“Los,” Kra whispered. “Come with me. Please. We’ll figure something out.”
“I… I need something. I can’t leave until I get my flash drives back.”
“Your flash drives?”
He nodded. His life’s work was on those things. “They’ll have survived,” he murmured. “They’re enchanted to survive water, fire, smashing. All of the enchantments should hold. I renewed one of them recently.”
“How many?”
“I have four.” One for his father. One for Thuelar. One for work. Another for personal memories, photos and documents he needed or wanted saved. “They’ll be okay.”
Kra looked. She let her eyes wander to the building, the fire finally under control. She zoomed in, looking past the walls, to where she knew Los’ apartment once was.
“Where would they be?” she asked, not sure if she sounded casual enough. She just hoped he was still too out of it to think too much about the question.
“My desk. In a locked box.”
She focused on his room, on his ruined desk, and stifled her gasp.
Oh no, she thought.
Her mind whirled, running idea and idea and idea, but one thing stood out, absolutely certain and clear as the sun at dawn: she needed to get Los out of here. Then they needed to talk. Not as Kra and Los, but as Allelosin and the Ghost.
She glanced at her friend and tried to calculate the odds of getting him to willingly move.
She didn’t think they’d be in her favor.
This was going to be a long night.
Hours later, she finally escorted Los inside her home. He was really out of it, only vaguely aware of Kra trying to shake him out of his stupor, and Corla muttering stuff along the lines of “this is such a bad idea,” “I hate my life,” “why did I let you talk me into this,” and “if we need to go into hiding, I’m blaming you and reminding you of this for the rest of our lives.”
He wasn’t entirely sure what she was talking about. He didn’t much care.
Kra could tell as she finally gave up on shaking him and let him curl on their sofa, staring mindlessly at the coffee table.
“Brilliant Kra,” Corla muttered. “Just brilliant. He’s a fucking mess.”
“His apartment burned down,” Kra replied easily. “Would you be doing any better?”
“Your plan is not going to work,” she said. She nodded at her wrist and Kra sighed. She grabbed it and pulled both of them into her enhanced time. “When he catches you, I told you so.”
“Again?” Kra replied, wondering if this was what humans said when they felt exhausted. The only time she got tired was when she over spent her magic. The rest of the time her magic kept her bright and awake unless she deliberately ordered her body to sleep. She’d never been exhausted in a normal way. “Haven’t we had this discussion already?”
They really had. Fifteen minutes ago. They’d gone back and forth like they were now for what would have been an hour in real time before Corla had agreed. In reality, Kra had made only a fraction of a second pass.
“Well, I want to say it again since I can’t very well say it in front of him now can I?” Corla shot back, jerking her head in Allelosin’s direction. “It was hard enough on M’sav. Now you want to bring him into our lives?”
“We have work,” Kra replied. “And we’re in the right time zone. Look, Cor, I can do this, okay? I lied to you for two years, didn’t I?”
“One,” she murmured. “I caught on sophomore year.”
“Fine one,” Kra conceded, trying to reassure her best friend with one of her signature smiles. Corla knew the tactic too well to fall for it. “But he won’t be staying for that long. Just long enough to make sure whoever set that fire won’t try to finish the job.”
“Are you-”
“Yes, I am sure it was deliberate. Cor, do you trust me?”
Corla looked into her eyes, glaring. “Fuck you, Kra, of course I do. You l know I do.”
“Great. Then trust me, okay? Look, I think I trust him. Well,” she amended, “not enough to tell him right now, but maybe with some more time.”
“Cause that’s an enthusiastic endorsement,” Corla replied dryly.
Kra gave her a look. “Corla, I trust him enough that if he figures it out, I’m not worried. I don’t think it will go badly and if it does, you can tell me off for the rest of our lives. Is that alright with you?”
Corla continued glaring, but there was no malice behind it. Just the glare of a friend who, no matter how she felt, would stay no matter what and see it through until the music stopped.
“I am looking forward to it,” Corla replied.
Kra snorted, but at the artificer’s nod, pulled them out of superspeed.
They shared another glance and then got to work.
Kra went into the office and started undoing the pull out bed. Corla marched over to where Allelosin was curled up on the couch and kneeled in front of him.
“Okay, I’m going to say this and say it once, so you need to listen, okay?” she told him sternly. She looked into his eyes which seemed to be staring into nothing. She murmured, "Alright, you asked for it,” and pulled out her phone.
She angled her speaker in the direction of his ear then hit a button. A loud airhorn sound blasted at him and Losin startled, sitting upright.
“What the fuck?” he sputtered out.
Corla grinned. “Great. You’re up.” She sat next to him. “Look, Losin, I’ve talked to Kra and we’ve agreed. If you need a place to crash while apartment hunting, you’re more than welcome to stay here.”
Los blinked, but for once, he looked like he was actually paying attention. “Oh. Thank you. That’s very kind, I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
Corla flippantly waved away his concern. “Please, it’s Kra. You can’t intrude no matter what.”
“I can intrude with you,” he grumbled.
“Stay out of my room forever and we’ll be fine.”
He let out a small, nervous laugh. “I can do that.” Corla smiled and began to walk away. She needed to get back to work. “Corla. Thank you.”
“No problem. Help my softhearted roommate with the bed and get some rest, would you?”
He nodded and offered a sheepish grin. Corla smiled to herself and locked herself in her room. Her part was over. It was Kra’s turn now.
The two of them worked in peace. Los watched Kra grab sheets, which he then put on the bed while she got the blanket and pillow ready. It took another few minutes, and then Kra nodded.
“Goodnight, Los,” she said, her hand wandering to her pocket. It was a bad idea, but she let it curl around the slip of paper there.
Los nodded back to her and she slipped into her room.
The moment her door closed, Los felt a rush of air and he noticed a small, white rectangle. He snatched up and read.
We need to talk. Now.
Los blinked and listened to Kra’s footsteps inside her room. He flopped onto the bed, faking putting the covers over his body. He gave it another moment before whispering, too quiet for anyone but one woman to hear, “Ready.”
The next thing he knew, he was standing on the roof with the Ghost. She held out a hand and he handed over the note.
“You’re in danger,” the Ghost said.
Los inhaled sharply. “What?”
“Danger. You.” she replied simply. “That fire was not an accident.”
“What do you know?”
“Your flash drives are protected by magic, yes?” He nodded, not surprised she’d overheard that. “One of them has melted. It’s completely destroyed.”
“That’s… possible,” he admitted. “I might have accidentally missed a renewal. It’s been a bit.”
The Ghost shook her head. “No, that’s not all, Mr. La’dyliap. Magic alters structure and even when a spell is done, there’s a residual trace. I can see magic and there was no trace of it clinging to the plastic. That was not your flash drive. Someone planted that to make you think it was yours and I believe whoever did that stole the original and set the fire to cover their tracks. Mr. La’dyliap, do you know who your biggest enemy is right now?”
“Right now?” He did not need to think about it. “There are two people. Can you get me the flash drives and a computer? I can check.”
The Ghost nodded. “Please excuse me.”
She vanished and a second later, Los found himself inside Corla’s room with a scowling Corla starting up two of the computers on her desk, which the Ghost was learning against in a startlingly causal way.
“What?” Los asked, not sure what he was seeing.
“Hello,” Corla said, not turning and with fake positivity. “Trust me, this is not how I thought this night would go.”
No shit. “But-”
“Relax,” Corla interrupted with a grin both of them knew was not reassuring in the slightest. “I won’t look at your files. And my computer is one of the most secure in the country. If anyone uploaded anything onto your files or tampered with them in any way, I’ll know.”
“You know the Ghost?” Los finally managed to spurt out. What was happening?
“No,” Corla replied, hoping that Los wouldn’t be able to read her lie.
Luckily for her, the Ghost jumped in. “I’ve heard Ms. Anvislu is the best in cyber security, so if anyone was going to make sure you have no further malware, it’s her.”
“You trust her?” Los asked quietly.
The Ghost nodded as Corla plugged the first flash drive into one computer, hooked onto her first.
“Okay, first one. Losin, get over here and ID this content.”
Los did and then nodded. “I know which one this is.” He’d known the moment he’d seen the photos folder.
Corla ejected it and plugged in the next. “No malware in that one. Or this so far,” she said, glancing at a program she was running.
“Well, I know which one this is,” he said. “So whenever you’re ready…”
“What is your labeling system?” she asked grumpily. “This is just numbers.”
“It’s to keep the content private. I know what the numbers mean.” He glanced at the next one. “Okay, got it. The flash drive missing is the one with my research into….” He glanced at the Ghost who nodded. He gave her a look but she gestured for him to continue. “Pakeldan Thuelar. The flash drive missing has my attempts to uncover corruption in Thuelar Incorporated.”
“Well, fuck then.” Corla said, giving voice to what everyone was thinking. “Fuck all our fucking lives then.”
“Agreed,” Los replied. “Although the other option wasn’t much better.”
“How could the other option be worse than a weapons giant?” Corla half screeched. Los shushed her, nodding to the wall that connected her room to Kra’s. Corla rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Kra can sleep through anything.”
“Still. We shouldn’t wake her.”
“That is very considerate, Mr. La’dyliap,” the Ghost interrupted, “but we do have bigger problems than Ms. N’tek’s sleeping schedule. Mr. La’dyliap, you will stay here for the foreseeable future.”
Los blinked. “I’m sorry what?”
“I have already gotten the consent of Ms. Anvislu and Ms. N’tek.” She gestured to Corla, who nodded along. “You will stay in this apartment as their guest until you find a new apartment, which shouldn’t be for a few months.”
“Um, no. I’ll be staying with my mom.”
“Mr. La’dyliap,” she began sternly, “I cannot stress enough that this is nonnegotiable. You are in danger. If we are correct, Mr. Thuelar has burned down your home and we do not know if his future goals include an attempt on your life. I need to keep an eye on you and we need to mitigate how long you are in the open. This apartment is closer to Kyp Daily than your mother’s home.”
“Also,” Corla chimed in over her shoulder, “Kra has already agreed to keep an eye on you for the Ghost.”
“What?” Los interjected, feeling his heartbeat quicken. “No. Absolutely not. We are not getting her involved in this.”
“Ms. N’tek is the best option. Again, if we are correct, Mr. Thuelar is likely keeping you under surveillance. You and I should not meet too much, just in case he finds a way to track me. If we do, he will likely become suspicious that you are on to him. Ms. N’tek offering her home to you in time of crisis, however, is perfectly in character for her. She can report to me without suspicion and you already spend most of your day together.”
“I will not put her in danger!” Allelosin protested, his heart pounding to the steady beat of not Kra, not Kra, not Kra.
“I am not asking you to. All I am asking is that you keep her informed of where you are. She can pass on the message to me and I can keep an eye on you. I will not put her in any more danger than she needs to be. Unless she volunteers for it.”
“And she’s already agreed,” Corla reminded him, directly meeting his gaze. “Do you think you can face her in the morning and tell her no?”
“Fuck you Corla,” Los hissed, knowing very well that no one could resist an enthusiastic Kra, especially if she pulled out her pleading eyes. “I hope Thuelar kills me.”
“But that’ll make Kra sad,” Corla said. She turned her chair to him and grinned, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Are you actually hoping for something that will make Kra sad?”
“F-”
Corla turned back to her computers and began shutting down. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You need another comeback, my friend.”
“So Mr. La’dyliap?” the Ghost replied with a slightly amused undertone. “What’s your answer?”
Los sighed. He fixed his most menacing glare upon the hooded vigilante. “You get Kra in any kind of danger and I will never stop until I uncover your identity and expose you to the world.”
The Ghost chuckled, unable to stop the response. The irony, Kra thought from under her hood. She replied, “Understood.”
“No, Ghost,” Los insisted. “Save her before me. Or I won’t do it. I’ll be at my mom’s in the morning.”
“And put her in danger?" He glared and imagined she was grinning under that stupid hood. “I understand Mr. La’dyliap. I will prioritize her safety over yours.”
Corla scoffed. The two of them turned to her. She shrugged. “What? It’s not like you’re ever following up on that. Kra wouldn’t willingly go into anything resembling danger. You might,” she added, gesturing to Losin, “but not Kra.”
“I know,” Los admitted. “I still feel better that she won’t die from my problems. Just in case she actually does. She’s stupidly loyal like that.”
“She won’t,” the Ghost promised. “I will keep her safe. And I will make it clear to her that she is supposed to stay out of your investigation.”
“Thank you, Ghost.” Los sighed with relief and his shoulders untensed. “What do you want me to do next?”
“For now? Carry on like normal and report anything you find suspicious. Anything that could possibly related to Mr. Thuelar. But first, what were you investigating before the flash drive was stolen?”
“I heard wind of a secret project,” Los answered. “Its codename was Sabwemkael.”
“Isn’t that an angel of Dasdalej?” Corla asked.
Losin nodded. “Yes, angel of the Pathist Goddess of Science, who is associated with alchemists. Stories of Sabwemkael are mostly about him being a messenger between Dasdalej and Bwemzikej.” Goddess of Progress, associated with artificers. “Particularly when they work together on a project.”
“What projects?” the Ghost asked.
“Umm…. The wheel,” Los recalled. “Fire. Spears. Swords. Carts. Gunpowder.”
“Violent projects,” Corla interjected. “What is wrong with you Pathists?”
Los wisely ignored the religion comment. Maybe there was much wrong in the Pathist cosmology, but he knew Corla was Rylygist and that one was weirder. The three gods, all eternally arguing about how to best end the world. The only reason they hadn’t yet was that a dead human only known as the Spirit with his helpers, the Ghosts, kept the gods so occupied with their debate that they never had any time to actually get around to destroying earth.
“Hey, we have Astrakael,” he protested. “That’s got to make up for something.”
Astrakael. An angel who’d seeped so much into popular culture that everyone invoked her name, not just the Pathists, despite her being their figure.
The stories all said that she’d been born to a human family in the time of the Plague. That her people had been favored of Asasej, Goddess of Healing. That when she’d caught the Plague, her family had prayed for her, their only daughter, to be saved. That they’d wrapped her in a blanket, kissed her head, wept, and set her in a river, hoping that Asasej would be forced to act to save this innocent baby.
The stories all said that Asasej had heard them, took the baby from the river, and poured her own power into the child, turning this little human into an angel. That the baby’s skin had become a map of the night sky. That her eyes and hair had turned silver with healing power. That Asasej had named her Astrakael and brought her to the Godrealm.
The stories all said that for years, Astrakael had strained against the rules of the angels, too often in trouble. That her rebellious heart grew stronger as she grew. That even though angels weren’t meant to directly interfere, she wanted so badly to help the human world, a world she watched down on and loved.
The stories all said that one day, she’d been spying on a family of humans and listened in on their discussion of their daughter, their daughter who’d they sent down a river to be saved or damned by Asasej. That they missed her desperately.
The stories all said that Astrakael had noticed the family’ weaving patterns and she’d shot instantly into the sky, returning to the Godrealm as fast as her wings could take her. That when she slipped into her room, she saw her baby blanket with the same patterns of the family. That no other angel she knew had a childhood.
The stories all said that Astrakael didn’t stay to get the story. That she just ran. That upon coming to Kyp she tore off her wings so she could never return to the Godrealm.
She wanted to stay on Kyp, with her people, and that was what she would do.
And then, once her tears dried, she set off for the community. She announced herself, reunited with her family, then took her community and all their sister communities out of their land, promising them she’d find them a place to live with no Plague, where they could worship the eight goddesses and one god in peace.
They followed her across the Tering sea, using her skin as a map, to an island that would one day be called Tern. When they arrived, Astrakael sank to her knees in despair for the Plague was on this continent too. Still, she announced, “I made a promise and by the Goddesses, I will keep it.”
She pointed to a lake and told them to build a city at its shore. Once she determined them safely on their way, she walked into the water, never flinching, even when the waves completely submerged her. From a hill, her people turned to watch a bright glow come from the water. It grew, getting brighter and brighter until they could no longer look.
And once it died, the island of Tern, which had once been a desert, was green and lush. The Plague was gone from this world, but so was Astrakael. The worshippers of Asasej returned to the shore, to the last spot they’d seen Astrakael, making the city of Tajsaeyuz there. The rest of them continued to the spot Astrakael had indicated, building the city of Tasreneyuz there. They marked her death as the first day of their calendar, the calendar most of Kyp used over fifteen hundred years later.
The stories all said that Astrakael was never truly gone from her people, that bits of her spirit lived on in all of them. That one day, she would return and bring all of Kyp, her beloved home, to a lush and green world.
So, yes, the Pathists did have Astrakael and she did count. But still, Corla rolled her eyes and muttered, “Barely.” She wasn’t about to give the freeloader an inch. “Most of Sabwemkael’s projects were inherently violent.”
“So, if Mr. Thuelar isn’t trying to mislead us,” the Ghost concluded, stifling the argument, “Project Sabwemkael is a new weapon.”
“It would make sense,” Corla said with a sigh. “Thuelar Incorporated makes magical weapons. They could be working on something new.”
“Something secret,” Los added. “There’d be more than a vague whisper from Rox if this wasn’t nefarious.”
“There is a chance it's not illegal at all,” the Ghost suggested. “It could simply be top secret so no other company can steal it.”
“Then why destroy Losin’s evidence?” Corla countered.
“Maybe it’s a government contract?” the Ghost offered. “The government wouldn’t want a reporter getting the details public.”
“Doubtful,” Los scoffed. “I have contacts in the government. If this was just another one of their weapons, I would have heard it. Someone would have warned me to back off.”
“Are you completely sure?” the Ghost asked.
Los looked at her hood, directly where her eyes should have been and, his voice clipped, said, “If the military or intelligence communities had commissioned a new weapon, I would have heard by now.”
The Ghost nodded and didn’t push. Los felt his heart unclench. He didn’t want to talk about his father. The NDA that would have shown up on his doorstep if this was just the government. No, he was sure something deeper was going on. He would find it. And if it was dangerous, he’d stop it.
He would stop it with the Ghost.
“What now?” Corla asked.
“Mr. La’dyliap, keep your eyes and ears peeled for anything suspicious. I will do the same.” Los nodded. “And please do not investigate too closely for at least two weeks. Give a little time to let him think he’s won. Ms. Anvislu,” the Ghost said, turning to the artificer, “please assist Mr. La’dyliap if he asks. I trust you will be discreet. If Mr. La’dyliap asks you to do something that makes you feel unsafe, do not do it.”
“Understood,” Corla replied.
The Ghost nodded to the two of them. “Goodnight to you both.” A moment later, she had vanished.
Allelosin La’dyliap and Corla Anvislu stared at each other. They were in this together now, bound by promises and circumstance. At least, that’s what Los thought. Corla knew better, knew that she had had a hand in carefully orchestrating the arrangement so she and Kra would be there every step of the way, but also to protect them and their true role in the life of the Ghost.
Los nodded and slipped out of the room, as quietly as possible going to the office. Corla sighed and waited one minute.
Like clockwork and precisely on schedule, Kra appeared next to her. Corla offered her wrist and when Kra took it, she felt both of them slip into enhanced time.
“Well done,” Kra whispered.
Corla smiled at her friend. “You too. Do you need me tonight?”
Kra shook her head. “It’s his first night and there’s no way he’s actually asleep. We don’t want him to accidentally overhear. I’ll manage for the rest of the night without you.”
“Then get going, superhero. The city awaits you.”
Kra laughed gently and let go of her wrist. They nodded to each other before Kra disappeared again, off into the last hours of the night.
Off to wherever her ears said she needed to be.