way she’d changed, getting in with those girls and doing seances and stuff, it had made me really suspicious. But on that track, with her walking right in front of me, and so close, I noticed that her right arm was swinging normally, but her left stayed steady like she was holding someone’s hand.
Someone you couldn’t see.
And I just knew. The monster inside Philip Syndal had only been interested in eating ghosts, swallowing them down and growing bigger with every meal. If it had still been inside Isis, there was no way any ghosts would be near her. But one was.
I walked in silence for a bit. I mean, I was really happy she wasn’t possessed, but that meant all the time I’d been avoiding her at school and stuff… it seemed, well, pretty rubbish really.
It took me a while to get my nerve up to saying something.
“Is Angel with you?” I asked her quietly.
Isis spun around, her face turning red as a beetroot.
“Shut up!” she hissed. “Mum’s here!”
Actually, Dad and Cally had gone way ahead, and they were clearly too lost in each other to care anything about us.
“Can I see her?” Suddenly I wanted to see Angel more than anything. But Isis glared at me, arms folded.
“You know,” I said, “Angel brought me to you in the hospital.”
“You’ve hardly spoken to me since school started. And now you want to see Angel?”
I probably blushed a bit. “I just thought…”
“Yes. I know,” Isis said coldly.
Sometimes you just have to come out with it: “I’m sorry.”
Isis looked surprised.
“I shouldn’t have avoided you,” I said, and her face closed up again. “It’s just I didn’t know if you were still… you.”
Isis frowned. “What? Why wouldn’t I be me?”
“Because you died,” I whispered. “Properly died. Didn’t you?”
She nodded slowly.
“I didn’t know if it was you who came back,” I said, “or the Devourer.” I remembered the dark ooze, pulsing around us. Isis didn’t say anything, but I could see the memories on her face too.
Then she startled and smiled. Not at me.
“Yeah, we should. That would prove it.” And she reached out, taking hold of something from the air, placing it into my hand. The second my fingers touched hers, I could see.
See what? Tell me!
The ghost of a little girl. I know you won’t believe me but it’s true. Just like when I’d seen her last, wearing a frilly dress and sandals, with a moptop of curly hair. The grass was showing through her. She grinned at me, making dimples in her round cheeks.
I can see what Isis can, as long as we’re linked by a ghost. I don’t know how it works; it’s part of her being psychic, I think. And now she’d put my hand onto Angel’s. Me, Isis and a ghost, all holding hands.
“I do’d it,” Angel said. “I bringed Isis back.”
Of course, I should have known my girls would look after each other.
Your girls?
Forget that! Tell me more about the little ghost. What did she look like, what did she say?
Well I wasn’t really looking at Angel, because something else had appeared behind her. Tall and thin, glowing in a greenish sort of way. Half-rotten. A skeleton wearing tatters of clothing, with eyes that were like… I don’t know, tunnels maybe? Or if you’d been dropped down the bottom of a well and you were looking up into a faraway circle of sky that you could never reach.
The skeleton hovered behind Isis, like it owned her.
“Allow me to introduce myself,” it said, in this whispery voice. “My name is Mandeville.” Its mouth made a shape, which was probably meant to be a smile.
What it looked like was death.
Chapter Twelve
Isis
Angel whipped her hand from Gray’s, skipping behind Isis and scowling at Mandeville. Gray wouldn’t be able to see either ghost now, Isis knew.
“What was that?” he gasped, startling back a step.
“Mandeville,” sighed Isis. “Angel doesn’t like him.”
“A dislike which is entirely unjustified,” said Mandeville. “I cannot think of anything I’ve done to deserve her ire.”
“Apart from bringing the Devourer to eat her!” Isis snapped. He flicked the comment away with his hand, although she thought that perhaps he looked a little ashamed. Gray turned his head from side to side, peering at the air.
“Is that the ghost from the theatre?” he asked her. “Your friend?”
“We’re not friends!” said Isis.
“Too cruel,” murmured Mandeville.
“He’s my…” she was embarrassed to say it, “spirit guide.”
Gray smiled. “You sound like your mum!”
“I do not!” But she could feel herself blushing, and wished her