Vixen backed off. Cocooned in her protective technogram the ghost was unable to harm her but conversely, she couldn’t get out without exposing herself to the carving knife again.
She took a further two steps backwards with the sphere, centred on the emitter stone in her pocket, moving with her.
“She makes it all seem so effortless, doesn’t she?”
Vixen spun around to see a second ghost, this one of an elderly man with a pipe, staring at the first ghost with what appeared to be admiration. He turned to Vixen. “Now me,” he said, “I can barley lift a teaspoon, let alone wield it with such finesse.”
“Thank ‘e, Master Frederick.” The other ghost smiled, holding the knife at the ready. “’Appen you’ll get the ‘ang o’ it soon enough.”
“How can I hear you both?” asked Vixen. “I don’t have the clairaudience chip.”
“That’ll be my fault, miss.” The voice belonged to a small scaly figure at the height of her knee. “I gated in and gave you the hearing.”
Vixen pulled out her blade again. “How?” she asked. “This shield is supposed to be impenetrable.”
The figure shrugged. “Against technology, maybe. The problem is that it’s not a real pentagram, is it? A real pentagram would have sealed the magical field an’ all. Yours just let me gate straight in.
He stretched out a finger. “It pops from the inside, don’t it?”
Outside, the female ghost smiled.
© Rachel Green 2007