A low ribbit outside Ayla’s window aroused her from sleep. Her eyes squinted open. She looked up from her pillow towards the window above the bookshelf.

  Another croak. Had the toad returned? She flipped her covers and sat up, stretching. She rubbed her eyes and stifled a short yawn as she walked towards the window. She pushed aside one of the blue curtains and looked out. She saw the dark forest, the forever fog, and pressed up against the window was the giant pink toad, its eight fingers gently expanding against the glass.

  It croaked loudly, prompting Ayla to push open her window. The toad hopped off the window frame and onto the barrel.

  “I don’t have any more spiders. You ate them! I did say thank you, didn’t I?”

  It croaked again and hopped off the barrel, bouncing into the dark woods.

  “What a curious toad.”

  There was a knock at her door.

  “I’m awake!” she said, slightly startled.

  “Good,” said Fraz through the door. She heard him wander off.

  Looking at her two dresses, she rested her chin on her thumbs and clapped her hands. Going to need to get my hands on some material, she thought. After pulling the dress over her head she flattened the skirt. She spotted fallen strand of her hair and picked it up, dropping it to the side. Before exiting, she checked herself in the mirror above the sink. Her hair was rattier than she’d like. She dampened her hands and patted it down a little, pulling it back into a messy ponytail. She sighed. It was as good as it was going to be. She exited the bedroom and locked up.

  Fraz was at the counter, standing on a wooden stool, taking inventory of their whiskey stock. He was muttering under his breath as he took notes.

  She wandered up to the counter, leaning against it. “Are pink toads common around here?”

  “Yeah, but don’t tell Gabby. She’ll make a stew out of ‘em.”

  Ayla scrunched her nose at the idea. “Seems like a weird dish to sell.”

  “Not entirely,” said Fraz. “Gonna need to order a few more of these.” He took more notes. “The toad has some kind of magical properties. That’s why we stick with brown ones. A small bowl of Gabby’s stew will make ya see things that aren’t there, getting ya higher than a dragons flight.”

  “Oh.”

  “Speaking of which…”

  Speaking of dragons? Ayla’s eyes widened. “I’ve only been in the mainland for a few months, but I know for a fact that no one here likes dragons.”

  “There aren’t many left. That being the case, there’s a famous one north of here. Practically lives at the edge of the world, sheltering wyverns and whatever else relishes darkness. We have some wyvern riders arriving in the next week. Some big hunt. They’re going to be staying here. That project you saw outside, that’s gonna be a stable for their yield.”

  “I’ve seen a wyvern once. This one was nasty. It was hunting people from a neighboring tribe. They tried to capture it, but it flew away. It was gorgeous, but sort of, you know… deadly.”

  “They’re hard to wrestle down, that’s for sure. These wyverns are tamed though. The riders are solid. Seen them work before.”

  “Who’s building the stable then?”

  Fraz looked up from his notes, “I’ve got a crew coming in tonight. They’ll be staying with us all week, which means we gotta get the baths working again.”

  Ayla nodded. She saw the sign.

  “They’ll be taking the parlor too, so it’s off limits tonight,” said Fraz.

  “I think I’ll give those windows a wipe down,” said Ayla, “There’s just a tad grimy.”

  Fraz chuckled, “Yeah, they could use a little help.”

  The front door opened, and Tess popped in, grinning wide. “Hello, all!”

  “Hope you’re ready to get dirty today,” said Fraz, looking at Tess, who leaned her head back with a groan.

  “Not the west side boiler!”

  “So, you were keeping your eye on calendar?” Fraz chuckled quietly. He looked back at the whiskey bottles on the shelf, doodling more notes.

  Tess stomped up to the counter. “I was in such a good mood too.” She looked at Ayla, collapsing her shoulders as pathetically as possible, “We’ve got some construction guys coming in to build this barn out there.”

  “I’m caught up,” said Ayla. “How hard is it to fix the boiler?”

  Fraz stepped down from his stool, clearing his throat. “The boiler isn’t the hard part. Plumbing is easy. I just gotta replace a leaky pipe. Rusted out, nothing huge.”

  Ayla gave a light shrug, “Okay, that seems straightforward enough.”

  Tess slapped the counter, “But! And this is a big but, Fraz,” the dwarf rolled his eyes, “there’s a spooky someone down there.”

  “In the boiler room?” asked Ayla. “Like what? Like a ghost?”

  “More than one, actually,” said Fraz, kicking the stool under the countertop. He double checked his list of whiskies to order. “Wonder if they sell something similar in Gabby’s world? Might be cheaper.”

  Tess started counting with her fingers, “I can recall at least two open haunts on the first floor.”

  “Gotta ask Gabby a question,” said Fraz. He left for the kitchen.

  Tess folded her arms, plopping her forehead down to hide face. “I don’t do well with wraiths,” she sighed. “Or wizards. Anything that starts with a ‘w’ is off limits to Tess.”

  “Fraz said some wyvern riders should be arriving soon.”

  Tess bolted up. “Especially that ‘w,’ nope, nope, nope!” Tess stomped to the kitchen. She opened the door, hanging up her jacket, cap and bag. She snatched her apron off the hook and put it on. “We have wyverns coming too?” she shouted.

  “Will you get over yourself, Tess,” said Fraz, “I just might let them eat ya!”

  “Wait, do I smell cinnamon rolls?”

  “No taste testsss!” hissed Gabby.

  Tess slammed the kitchen door shut. “Well, how will everyone know if they’re good if I don’t test them?” She tapped her foot impatiently. “Problem one, the wraiths. Problem two is next week so let’s not worry about that right now.”

  Ayla watched Tess take a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She spun around, facing Ayla, forcing a smile.

  “How do we get rid of wraiths?” she asked.

  Ayla thought about this for a moment, “I don’t really know a lot about the Wightshade. If a wraith is here in our realm, then doesn’t that mean they’re trying to get there? To the Wightshade?”

  “Only thing I can think of is necromancy,” said Tess. “And while all are welcome at Witchwicks, we don’t really see a lot of them, which is probably why we have a few ghosts haunting our boiler room. Maybe a necromancer would know how to put a soul back into the Wightshade, ya know? Considering they steal them from their realm? They could just reverse it?”

  “No magic, no necromancy,” said Fraz, emerging from the kitchen. “We’ll help them move on.”

  “What if they want us to avenge a loved one? Or return a sacred relic lost a millennium ago? Remember the Skeleton Lord a few years ago? It’s always something! They always want something!”

  Would be funny if that relic hung on these walls, Ayla thought.

  “Or,” said Tess, “What if they got kicked out of the Wightshade for being meanies, or something, and they can’t actually move on? Oh no,” Tess looked at the floorboards, “Can they hear me? I’m being too loud.”

  Fraz lowered his voice, calmly speaking, “Tess, it’ll all be good. Last I checked there were three down there. I don’t think we’ll run into too much trouble.”

  Fraz set his inventory notes down the counter and reached underneath. He revealed an oil lamp with a thin handle. He lit the wick, and rotated the regulator, increasing the flame. He walked towards the center tavern’s north wing, gesturing to the tables. Ayla and Tess quickly followed and lifted the table up and to the side, revealing a massive door. After scooting chairs out of the way, Fraz lifted the door up. They circle around peering down a cold, dark stairway.

  “I didn’t realize this was here,” said Ayla.

  “Oh,” Fraz said, putting his hand on his waist, “Witchwicks has a few more doors running around here. Sometimes you see them, sometimes you don’t.”

  Ayla glanced around, wondering what other secrets this place may hold. Her eyes landed on Tess, who was shaking her head, “You guys go first.”

  Ayla took the lantern, winked at Tess, and started down the stairs. The room was frigid, more than Ayla had expected. It takes a lot to make goosebumps appear on her skin, but this place did it. It was supernaturally chilling. She looked down, scrunching her toes. The dirt was soft, but moist. She lifted the lantern, illuminating old pipes running along the ceiling. She heard muddy plops of water dripping from above. One of the pipes rattled. Something disturbed it further down the hall.

  Fraz made it down the steps. Tess was behind him, fully prepared to use her dwarf boss as a shield if danger attacked. Ayla giggled to herself, imagining that scenario play out. Fraz stopped for a moment.

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  “Everything okay?” she asked.

  “Oh, leg is acting up, but we’re good.”

  Turning to the darkness, Ayla stepped forward. She led the three of them down a short hall, turning right.

  North, she thought. We’re moving towards the forest.

  The hallway continued for a few more seconds before leading down into the larger boiler room. It was completely dark with exception to a small orange light flickering to the right. Tess was shivering behind Fraz, who grumbled uncomfortably due to the cold.

  “I don’t hear anything,” he said. “Except for your clattering teeth.”

  Tess frowned at him, giving him a light shove.

  Ayla wondered about the silence too. It was too quiet. What hit the pipe earlier? She moved the light to the left, revealing half a dozen lamps sitting on a table. The three of them worked together, lighting each lamp and hung them up throughout the boiler room. There were a series of hooks on the walls and ceiling. In a few minutes, the room was flooded with warm candlelight. Ayla saw two massive boilers, one on the right side and one on the left side. The one on the right, or as labeled by a dangling sign, “east side boiler” was lit and working. Peering through a small windowed door, Ayla could see rows of ever-burning candles lining a wild maze of pipes. These led up into the ceiling, no doubt find their way to her bedroom, Fraz’s bedroom and the kitchen.

  Tess relaxed a little but noted the cold. Fraz motioned for the west side boiler. The candles were out. He checked all the components and pipes. The coal chamber looked good. The ignitor seemed operational. It was filled with water. The steam valve meters were readable. He walked around the boiler, observing every part. He grumbled a little here, said a curse word there. While his attention was focused on the boiler, Ayla watched the room carefully. They hadn’t seen any ghosts yet, so where were they?

  “This is the pipe that needs fixing,” said Fraz. He pointed up. The pipe had a clear breach due to rust and time. “I could patch it, but I aim to just cut this portion out altogether and replace it. It might take a couple hours.” He gestured to the ground. “Got my tools and the pipe here too. Can’t recall what diverted my attention. Probably some silly shit you concocted, Tess.”

  “Hey! Wait a minute, I thought there were supposed to be a bunch of wraiths down here?” said Tess. She looked around, “Please don’t jump out us!”

  “We’re here,” came a cold, sharp voice. The three whipped around and saw large group of ghostly, green figures, bunched together in the hallway they had previously ventured. They all appeared human. Ayla took a step back as Tess screamed. Fraz rolled his eyes.

  “Will you shush,” said Fraz. He brushed past her. Tess circled behind Ayla. Guess I ended up being the shield, she thought.

  “Don’t let them take me,” Tess pleaded, “seriously.”

  “I don’t think they can do that,” assured Ayla.

  Fraz took point, “There’s uh, a few of you guys down here.”

  The ghosts turned to each other, counting. The one towards the front was a thin man. He spoke, “There are seventy-five and a half. I think one of us is missing their legs.”

  Fraz chuckled and then introduced himself.

  The wraith gently dipped its head, “I am Macarius.”

  “Look,” said Fraz, “all are welcome at Witchwicks, right? That includes your bunch. I appreciate you all not scaring the willies out of my customers, at least not often enough to affect business.” Fraz paused for a moment, trying to read the room. “If I may ask, why are you all here? Last I counted there was just a few of you. Looks like a whole army is down here.”

  Macarius held out his hands, as if pleading a case, “The Wightshade is lost to us. We do not know how to find it or where it is, so we have found our home here. Most of us are new, hailing from the north, and the east. Something drew me. Them. Us. As you gracefully noted, all are welcome at Witchwicks.”

  “They always want something,” said Tess quietly, whispering over Ayla’s shoulder. “Next thing you know we’re going to be transporting their bones to some foreign land for that peaceful burial they all dream about.”

  Fraz fell silent, looking over his shoulder, glaring at Tess. The other ghosts looked at her, mostly disapprovingly.

  “So sorry,” she said, nervously ducking behind Ayla.

  “Seems like we have to figure out why you can’t find the Wightshade, easy!” Fraz smiled, trying to encourage everyone.

  “One would think,” Macarius said. “I myself a scholar of the mystical beyond, as part of my religious order. Even my studies have failed us. Some of us been down here for almost two decades.”

  “Has it been that long? Explains the rusty pipes, I suppose.” Fraz looked around.

  “And not that your boiler room hasn’t been accommodating,” continued Macarius, “but we would like to move on.”

  “We’d like that too,” said Tess as politely as she could muster.

  Ayla stepped forward, Tess tugging the back of her dress. Ayla swatted her away. “You need a guide, then? Is that it?”

  The wraiths all looked at each other. They started nodding to one another, whispering and nodding more. Macarius looked at Ayla. His eyes were solemn, but kind.

  “We think a guide would be most helpful.”

  Ayla smiled, “I can’t promise anything, but I may be able to help.”

  Fraz couldn’t hide his surprise, “Say again?”

  “I think I can help… or, at least I have something that may help.”

  Ayla left Fraz and Tess behind as she walked back towards the tavern. She didn’t need the lantern this time, as the green glow of the surrounding wraiths lit the way. She politely weaved through them, most of whom simply stepped to the side or phased through the dirt walls. She heard their whispers, “Who is she? Her dress, it shakes. What does she have for us?”

  She walked up the stairs, emerging back into the tavern. It was warm and quiet. She hurried across the main floor, unlocked her bedroom and reached under the pillow where she left the orb that guided her to Witchwicks two nights prior. She peered into it; the little ghostly gas swirled about.

  “You helped me, maybe you can help them?”

  The orb pulsed gently in her palm. She felt a soft tickle and warmth inside her chest. She carefully carried the orb down to the boiler room. When she neared Macarius, his attention immediately focused on the orb.

  “What do you have there, my friend?”

  Fraz and Tess looked on Ayla with curiosity. She held the orb out for all to see. It sat in the center of her palm, pulsing rippled waves that ran along its barrier.

  “I fought a necromancer’s minion on my way here the other night. This orb was inside of it. When I dislodged it, it changed from blue to green – like all of you – and it guided me to Witchwicks. Maybe it’ll guide you to the Wightshade?”

  Fraz and Tess stepped back, impressed by Ayla’s actions. She handed the orb to Macarius, admittedly unsure if he could handle material objects.

  He was able to. He cautiously took the orb, holding it up. He didn’t appear happy. He appeared confused. “I know this spirit, I think,” his head tilted to the side, “I hear something from my past.” He started to hum.

  In his hand, the orb began to melt and dissipate in the air, expanding out and drawing forth an unnatural wind. The spirit inside transformed from a tiny tornado to a fully formed humanoid. She was bright green, like the others. She was thin, with long hair and a small waist, dressed in a wispy fog that billowed out and disappeared. She effortlessly drifted between the wraiths and the Witchwicks crew. Turning to Ayla, she bowed.

  “I owe you an sincere apology, Ayla.” Her voice was quiet and calming. “It was not my intention to hurt you.”

  “She’s so gorgeous,” said Tess from behind.

  Ayla half shrugged, “I’d chalk it up to possession. You got me here after all.” Ayla felt a little embarrassed, “Not to be weird about this, but you smell really good.”

  The ghost swished the fog towards Ayla. It shifted colors, from green to a light-yellow hue.

  “It’s definitely you,” she said.

  “I’m Mirra,” said the ghost. “You smell myrrh, which I was infused with to guide those who have passed on to their new home.” Mirra floated towards her, close enough to whisper, “Your familiar with fusing the natural with magic too, I think.”

  Ayla swallowed the lump in her throat, stepping back, clearing wanting more space. She glanced at Fraz and Tess, who desperately wanted to know what Mirra had just whispered.

  The ghost gracefully twisted in the air, looking at the lost souls of Witchwicks boiler room.

  “There’s a few of you,” she said charmingly.

  Macarius drifted towards her, still perplexed. “I know you from somewhere, I just can’t place it. It’s like a memory that’s been stolen, or a dream I once possessed. I feel like you’re there, maybe in my books, but you’re here. Why do I feel this way?”

  “I wish I had an answer for you,” said Mirra, almost motherly. “I regret to say that you won’t know until you enter the Wightshade.”

  Ayla turned to Fraz and Tess who were watching in awe. Tess walked up to her and whispered, “You had this hottie in a glass orb the whole time?”

  “You need to relax,” said Ayla teasingly. Fraz walked next to her and smiled. He didn’t say anything, but Ayla could tell he was pleased with her. She warmed up inside, watching the ghosts converse.

  Mirra guided Ayla and the others to one side of the room. “I’m going to lead them to Wightshade. It might get a little breezy in here.”

  The three huddled together. Fraz and Tess exchanged looks of curiosity and wonder. Ayla watched with anticipation.

  Mirra moved to the center of the boiler room. She performed a series of elegant hand waves down into the fog clothed around her body. It rolled off of her, forming a singular puff of cloud. She swung around it and touched the center of her chest. She began to hum a high-pitched, angelic tune. A white light burst from her ghostly being! She cupped her hands, holding them inches from her body, and continued to hum. The light began to spread, wrapping itself around her, creating a soft glow in the room. Her hum remained constant, alluring, hauntingly beautiful.

  Tess and Fraz were in complete wonder. Ayla felt something else.

  As Mirra hummed the divine tune, Ayla felt reverberations spread from her chest to her fingers. While the others shared in witness of the spectacle, Alya felt isolated by it, targeted even. Each song note caused a flutter in her chest, back and stomach. It was an uneasy sensation; an aggressive purr that caused small tremors to ripple in her body. She felt her skin heat. She watched her pale fingers shake.

  What is happening to me? she thought. She grabbed her dress, allowed the magic threads to induce a familiar calm, but they seemed troubled. She didn’t understand why, but it felt as if she was drawing power from Mirra. Her eyes darted up. Mirra noticed it too. It was a subtle expression, but Ayla caught it. Mirra was just as curious, but she could not stop humming. She had a job to do.

  Suddenly, the glow retracted, focusing itself. Emerging from Mirra’s heart was a pure white key made of the very same light that enshrouded her. She kept humming as the ghosts drew near her. She pierced the fog with the key and light flooded the boiler room as a heavenly wind rushed out.

  Macarius reached out, “It, it’s pulling me!”

  “The Wightshade calls for you, friend,” said Mirra. She returned to her humming. Macarius looked at Fraz.

  “Thank you for allowing us to stay here,” he said.

  “It was never my call,” said the dwarf. “Find peace!”

  Macarius waved to his fellow spirits and in moments they rushed through the foggy portal. The wind sucked in, fast now, pulling the light with it. The door closed and silence fell in the room. All that remained was Mirra’s song. She pressed the key of light back into her chest. She pulled at the fog, wrapping it around her body.

  She ended her song.

  Ayla stepped back, taking a deep breath. Her body finally calmed down and the trembling stopped. Fraz put his hands on his waist, looking up in admiration. Tess wiped a tear from her eye.

  “It was the wind,” she said. “Why didn’t you go with them?”

  Mirra clasped her hands behind her back. “I don’t think I’m meant to go the Wightshade.” Ayla caught a glimpse of concern in Mirra’s eyes. “I just lead souls to it.”

  Fraz looked down, finding himself sad to hear this. Ayla couldn’t deny it either. She felt her heart break a little.

  “How long have you been here?” asked Ayla.

  Mirra looked up, trying to remember. A single tear dropped down her cheek. Ayla watched it fall to the ground. It didn’t splash. It just disappeared, vanishing in through the earth.

  “I suppose it’s been a few thousand years. Though time is a funny thing for me.” She looked away. “My memory too. Something is off.”

  Something is off, thought Ayla. You’re not wrong.

  “Where will you go?” asked Tess.

  Mirra thought about this too. “I guess I go where the souls are lost. I usually wander around a bit; it doesn’t take long before I find some old lady haunting a farm for some horribly morbid reason.”

  “Well,” started Tess, smacking Fraz on the side. “Considering we have a surplus of souls finding their way here, maybe you can stay a while?”

  Mirra perked up, smiling wide. A red light burst from her heart and rippled throughout her green body. “I’ve never been asked to stay before! That, that really means a lot to me.”

  Fraz cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds like a plan to me. Again, not really up to me. I’m just steward this joint.”

  I suppose she’s been with me since the woods, thought Ayla. “I’m just realizing you’ve been stuck in darkness under my pillow this whole time.”

  “I’ve been in worse places.”

  Tess giggled, giving Fraz a hug, causing him to scowl. “We have a new employee! Want to stay with me?”

  Fraz shook his head, completely bewildered. “It was only a few minutes ago when you expressed your contempt for spirits. Plus, you’d be imposing.”

  Tess shushed him, “Come on, she’s so pretty and nice!”

  “I suppose I could do that,” said Mirra.

  Fraz held up his hands in protest, “Well, we should think about this.”

  “I think I’d get along with Tess just fine,” smiled Mirra.

  Tess squealed excitedly. “You see!”

  Mirra floated closer to them. “I look forward to working with you all!”

  “Oh, fine. In the meantime,” said Fraz. “I’ve got to get this pipe fixed. If you ladies want to head upstairs and prepare for tonight’s customers, that’d be great.”

  Ayla, Tess and Mirra all nodded in unison. Fraz rolled his eyes. He watched Ayla take a lantern. There was something off about her movement. He got the impression that she seemed guarded. He wondered what Mirra had whispered to her? Ayla turned, catching him watch her. She simply smiled and lead them back to the tavern. The dwarf reached into his tool kit and pulled out a saw.

  “What are you planning?” he asked out loud. “What indeed?”