“Oh, so now he speaks English.” Hunter huffed at the ceiling.
I kept my attention on my familiar. “Archie is family. What are you on about, mate?” I asked him.
“Vessel,” he repeated.
“Vessel. Like a container of some sort.”
“Aye, aye, aye,” Archie cackled.
“You know you sound like a pirate when you say that,” I admonished before holding out my hand. Archie hopped—going from sill to hand to my shoulder. “A talisman. Could we anchor Nigel’s spirit to a vessel or talisman? Master Anu?”
“You are old.” Anu’s voice croaked as he swung his skinny legs out of bed. He stood, the effort eliciting a rough cough. He waved at Nigel with one hand as he doubled over. Nigel movedfast, a blur from the bed to the bathroom and back again, settling a silk dressing gown over Anu’s shoulders.
Another coughing spell was severe enough that Hunter fetched water from the bathroom and handed the paper cup to Nigel.
The ghost waited patiently by the man’s side, holding out the paper cup. Anu drank a few sips, cleared his throat, and pointed at me. “Old. Olden times.”
I’d worked hard on my modern English, but occasionally my phrasing often sounded formal and stilted. Most modern folk found me old-fashioned at best, weirdly archaic at worst, but no one would guess I was from another time. Time travel was not a known thing in the mundane world.
I nodded, straightened myself, and gave a short bow. “Regge North, sir. Late of London, Year of our Lord, sixteen hundred and one. I had the good fortune of meeting some extraordinary folk who brought me here to this time. Saved my life, they did. Have you traveled much to England? London?”
Anu’s dark eyes were runny and red-rimmed from his coughing fit. “Before.” He waved in my general direction.
“Before my time?” I threw a quick glance at Hunter. “Old, like we’d thought.”
“Yes. And look man, I’m sorry you’re sick or…” Hunter’s hand toggled in the air. “I’m guessing modern medicine can’t help you?”
Nigel explained. “Master Anu has led a long life. A life that is almost at its end. There is nothing to be done. Nor would he want it.”
“But what if we can save you, Nigel?” I fished for a couple of cat treats I kept on my person and fed them to Archie.
Hunter shoved his hands in his pockets as he wandered the room.
“We also need to find the real owners of this place. If Master Anu knows anything about them, it will help. Even if we save Nigel, if this place gets condemned, he’ll have no place to go. Everyone will be out of a home.” He gave me a look, and I followed him into the hall. Away from Nigel and Anu, Hunter’s voice lowered. “Regge, we can’t save everyone. Nigel is a ghost. He needs to move on.”
“He doesn’t want to move on. He needs the hotel. This place is a haven forothers. It needs a being like Nigel to keep things in order. We can get the necromancer to help him and get the owner’s name as well.”
“Hit men almost killed us for getting involved. You want to be more involved?”
“Hit men? Really? Now who’s watching theSopranos? We will help, HB. You help people all the time. Why not now?” I didn’t wait for an answer.
Anu and Nigel were deep in conversation when Hunter followed me back into the room.
Nigel nodded and turned to us.
“With the right incantation, the right ingredients, he could do it. I could be tethered within the hotel.” The ghost smiled and clasped his hands together. “I could fulfill my duties as the night clerk. With your help of course.”
“Don’t you want to move on, to go wherever spirits go?” Hunter asked.
“To what purpose? Here, I have a job. A plan, a goal. I don’t remember much about my old life, but I have never felt more at home than here at the Fulbright.”
I gave him a reassuring expression. “We will take another look around. Ask Master Anu if he knows anything about Westridge Unlimited. That’s who owns the hotel, but that’s all we could find. We need to fix up the hotel, Nigel. And help you stay here if you wish. Perhaps we can get a doctor to look atMaster Anu. Our friend, Ziggy, er, specializes in a certain kind of patient.” I looked at Hunter.
He sighed. “We can get whatever he needs for the ritual or whatever.”
We excused ourselves and scouted through the hallways on each floor, making sure doors were locked and hallway windows were secure.
I retrieved the necromancer’s sword from the terrace and propped it within reach of the hard-cushioned sofa in the lobby. We settled down—me at one end, Hunter at the other.
