Page 47
Story: Ghosts of Averoigne
“It’s not him.”
The thing on the bed — the thing looking through Jeremy’s eyes right now — it definitely wasn’t Jeremy. Whatever it was was using him as a vessel, as a means to an end. Kara could feel it gazing outward, using his two living orbs as a window into the real world. The actual world. A stay of execution, however brief, from some muted realm of darkness.
All at once Jeremy stopped screaming. He stared down at Kara and Logan for a moment, and snarled a single, ominous word.
“NO.”
Before they could stop him, he bolted from the room.
“Where’s he—”
Kara didn’t stick around for the rest of Logan’s sentence. She followed Jeremy out into the hallway, where he’d already fallen down in a crumpled heap against the side of one wall.
“Jeremy!”
He didn’t even turn to face her. Instead he got up, ran sideways some more, and slammed into the opposite wall. It reminded Kara of playing ‘dizzy bat’ back in high school, where they’d spin around in tight circles and then try to run a straight line.
It’s like his first day with legs…
Again, the idea sounded crazy but also sane. She followed as Jeremy sprinted deeper into the shadowy hallway. He almost reached the end, then turned and crashed into a door on the left side.
The door held. He bounced off.
“Jeremy stop!”
She was almost on him when he tried again. Jeremy’s big frame shouldered the door, smashing the lock away from its ancient frame. The door swung open, flinging him inside.
“JEREMY!”
The room — number 334 — was pitch black. Kara’s flashlight swept frantically back and forth for a moment, through a violent swirl of dust. The room was larger than the others, and decorated a lot more fancily. Kara saw an array of vintage furniture with ornate finishes. Paintings, sculptures, even a pedestal vase. In the center was a large, four-poster bed. And on the wall a scrol
ling, decorative mirror…
The mirror!
It was the mirror from the hundred-year old photo. The Venetian one, mounted directly behind Rudolph Northrop.
Jeremy was at the other end of the room. He picked up a chair. Held it high over his head…
“Stop! STOP!”
For a second Kara thought he would throw it at her. She cringed, one arm going up reflexively. Then she realized what he was about to do.
“NO!”
Jeremy swung his arms back, ready to hurl the intricately-carved chair. Not at her, but at the mirror itself.
“JEREM—”
She was knocked to her knees as something blurred past her. It took a half second before Kara knew what it was.
Logan!
Springing across the bed, Logan tackled Jeremy mid-swing. The chair crashed into the wall just beside the mirror, two of its legs folding in with a loud ‘SNAP’. It hit the floor at the same time the guys did, Jeremy twisting his body wildly, struggling to keep Logan from pinning him down.
“Please,” Kara screamed. “Stop!”
Jeremy was taller than Logan. Strong and wiry. He punched Logan hard in the jaw, landing a vicious uppercut as he was thrown off balance.
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