Simon Green - Spirits from Beyond

“She’s only here because of you,” said JC. “You’re holding on to her.”

“Please. Don’t say that.”

“If you love her, let her go,” said JC.

He took Brook firmly by the arm and took him into the end room. Lydia looked round again, her face lighting up as she expected to see her Adrian. Only to recoil a little at the sight of the old man with JC. It was clear she didn’t recognise Brook. Didn’t know him at all.

“Don’t be frightened, Lydia,” said JC.

“I’ve seen that man before,” said Lydia. “Is he a ghost? Why does he keep looking in at me?”

“I can’t stand this,” said Brook.

He tried to leave, but JC held on to him.

“Let me go!” said Brook.

“Happy!” said JC. “Get in here!”

The telepath slouched through the open doorway and smiled at Lydia. She nodded back, uncertainly.

“This is a friend of mine, Lydia,” said JC. “Don’t worry; he always looks like that. Happy, it’s time to do the linking thing again. This time, I need you to forge a mental connection between Lydia and Adrian. Mind to mind, heart to heart, soul to soul, so that they can See each other clearly and know who they are.”

“You don’t want much, do you?” growled Happy. “I’m still recovering from suddenly not being dead after all. I swear, there aren’t enough pills in the world to make working with you worth it.”

He frowned hard, concentrating; and Lydia’s and Brook’s heads snapped round. They looked into each other’s eyes. . and knew each other. After all the years apart, they were finally together again. JC could see it in their faces-a simple, wondering look of recognition. Two lost loves, separated by all the world and Time, brought together again at last. Lydia rose out of her chair and went to Adrian, and they looked at each other.

“I didn’t know you!” said Lydia. “You got old, Adrian. .”

“You didn’t,” said Brook.

“How long have I been here?” said Lydia. “How long have I been waiting for you, Adrian?”

“Too long,” said Brook. “Do you remember. .”

“What I did?” said Lydia. “Yes. I do now. Such a stupid, selfish thing to do. ‘This will show them; this will make them all sorry,’ I thought. All those years we could have enjoyed, together. .”

“You can have all the Time there is, now,” said JC. “No more waiting. It’s time for you to leave this room, Lydia.”

“I won’t go anywhere without you, Adrian,” said Lydia. “I won’t be separated from you any longer.”

“Of course not,” said Brook. “You’re going, and I’m going with you.”

“I can’t ask that of you!” said Lydia.

“There’s nothing left to hold me here,” said Brook. “No family, no friends; all I ever really had were my memories of you. If I can’t be here with you. . then I don’t want to be here.” He looked at JC. “I mean it.”

“Yes,” said JC. “I think you do.”

He nodded to Happy, who nodded slowly.

“The things we do, for love,” said Happy.

He reached out, through the link he’d made between a dead girl and a living man, and gave them both a little of his Sight. Brook and Lydia turned their heads, to stare in a direction beyond the sight of the living. And it was over. The Past disappeared and the original room reasserted itself. It looked much the same: old-fashioned, but with dust everywhere. Lydia was gone, and Brook lay dead on the floor. JC knelt beside the body and checked for a pulse. Not because he had any doubts but because that was what you did. He got to his feet and nodded to Happy.

“Good work. This isn’t quite the ending I had in mind, but I suppose it will have to do. It’s over. And that’s all that matters, really.”

“It doesn’t feel over,” said Happy. He rubbed wearily at his eyes. “Dear Lord, I am so tired. . This has taken a lot out of me, you know.”

“Yes,” said JC. “I know. It’s taken a lot out of all of us.”

* * *

They left the room, and JC closed the door firmly behind them. They walked back down the landing, past perfectly ordinary doors, all of them closed, and went down the stairs to the main bar.

“How does the upper floor feel to you now, Happy?” said JC.

“Empty,” said Happy.

“That’s all?”

“Afraid so.”

“Damn,” said JC. “I was hoping for more than that. Oh. What happened to the people we rescued from the Timeslipped rooms?”

“Brook sent them back to town,” said Happy. “The road was flooded by the storm, so he sent them back over the fields. Slogging through thick mud and pouring rain and heavy winds. . They’ll be soaked to the skin by the time they reach Bishop’s Fording. But that could be a good thing. Keep them distracted enough that they won’t start asking awkward questions till later. And hopefully by then, we’ll be out of here.” He looked at JC. “Not often we get to save people’s lives. It’s a good feeling.”

“Yes,” said JC. “It is.”

When they emerged into the main bar, Melody and Kim were waiting for them. JC filled them in on what had happened. The storm outside sounded worse than ever, loud and threatening, battering at the windows, like some furious creature trying to force its way in.

“So,” said Melody. “Lydia wasn’t responsible for everything that’s going on here.”

“No,” said Happy.

“Then removing Lydia didn’t remove the source of the problem,” said Kim.

“No,” said JC. “But some things. . just need doing.”

The main bar of the King’s Arms seemed reassuringly calm and normal after the extremes of the upper floor. Only the unrelenting din of the storm raging outside remained to remind them that the game wasn’t over yet. JC went behind the bar, found three unbroken glasses, and ceremoniously poured out the last of the good brandy. They all toasted each other solemnly while Kim looked on wistfully. Happy knocked his brandy back in one gulp, ignoring the disparaging looks from the other two, who knew how to treat a good brandy.

“This stuff is feeling more and more medicinal,” said Happy, slamming his glass back down on the bar and looking about him distractedly.

“You should know,” said Melody.

“Children, children,” murmured JC. “Do me a favour and slap each other round the head. I haven’t got the energy.”

“So what do we do now?” said Melody, deliberately averting her gaze from the bar’s windows, as they jumped and rattled in their frames. “I mean, we’ve dealt with all the obvious trouble, on the upper floor; but it doesn’t seem to have changed anything. Listen to that storm!”

“Not a fit night out for man or beast,” muttered Happy, looking glumly into his empty glass. “If it rains any harder, it’ll be ark-building time.”

And then his head came up suddenly, and he looked quickly about him.

“Hold everything and pass the ammunition. Something. . is heading our way. I can feel it.”

JC put down his glass and looked steadily at Happy. “What kind of Something are we talking about here, Happy? Is it the dark, coming back again?”

“No,” said Kim. “I can feel it, too. Listen. .”

JC came out from behind the bar to join the others, and they all stood close together. Listening. The sound of the storm outside seemed to fade away, retreating into the distance, just so they could hear what was coming. Voices. . voices that seemed to come from every direction at once, drifting in from all around them. A slow susurrus of human voices, whispering. Rising and falling, but slowly growing in volume. Spoken conversations, shouted arguments, raucous laughter, and the sobbing of broken hearts. More and more voices, from everywhere at once, filling the whole bar from end to end. Growing steadily louder and more distinct.