Page 578 of Flirting with Darkness

Before he’d even made up his mind precisely, he began to walk towards the glowing face of that strangely numbered clock.

He felt a near compulsion to get near it, to lay his fingers on that glowing blue surface. He felt a similar but lesser pull to the book opened on the podium before the clock. Now that he stood closer to both, he could see calligraphy on the gold pages of the book, pictures painted by hand, odd characters like on the rug upstairs, perhaps even a foreign language.

He wanted very much to read it.

He wanted very much to smooth his fingers over the detailed images.

He wanted very much to wrap his hands around the hands of the clock.

He focused so singularly what lived inside that carved circle, on the clock, on the book on its black pedestal, on the archway…

He didn’t feel it coming.

He didn’t notice anything at all.

He stepped over that line of circle carved into the black stone.

He stepped over it and the air around him abruptly changed. Sparks flew up into his eyes. Gold and green flames rose from somewhere by his feet. Everything grew blurry around him. The clock grew blurry, too. Before he could make sense of it…

There was a heavy blow into some part of his head.

It may have come from the side, from the front.

From above.

It was unlike any blow Ghost had ever received.

It was unlike any pain he had ever felt.

His vision flashed white.

Then nothing.

Nothing at all.

9

THE OFFER

He opened his eyes slowly, squinting against a golden light.

That light seemed bright at first––too bright, blindingly painfully bright––but his eyes rapidly adjusted. The change happened fast enough to disorient him. Ghost refocused on the room in which he found himself. The influx of light leveled to something that wasn’t quite dim, but certainly not brighter than an ordinary room in waning daylight.

He closed his eyes again.

Opened them.

He stared at a high wooden ceiling carved in square tiles.

The black cavern was gone.

He attempted to sit up. Only when he’d managed to pull the top half of his body up off the soft mattress did he realize he wasn’t alone.

Instantly, he froze.

Blue eyes, a shade or two darker than his own, stared back at him.

Long brown hair framed an angular face with a high forehead and cheekbones. It was a handsome face, an austere face, a face exactly like what he’d seen on a conjuring card not long ago while he sat in the dining car of a train. Ghost stared at the mustache and beard adorning the full mouth, and knew exactly who it was who sat there with him.

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