Page 25 of Curse of the Stag's Eye
Nikesh finished with his gurgling vape. “I suppose we’d better go back up. Dawn will have Rhys’ head pickled with questions.”
“You honestly didn’t know she was a medium?”
“No idea.” He pushed open the door into the glass corridor. “I knew her family was a bit weird, always talking about horoscopes and that. I’m in a Whatsapp group with her and all her sisters, and they’re always sharing stuff about ghosts, and witches, and love spells. I thought they were all just a bit… well,funny.”
I stopped dead. “I’ll believe in ghosts if I absolutely have to, I’ll even entertain the notion of witchcraft, but I draw the line at bloody horoscopes.”
Nikesh bounded up the steps and into the lighthouse. “I bet Rhys believes in them so be careful what you say about them.”
I asked him why.
“Well…” He stood on the first step of the staircase. “You don’t want to upset him, do you? You don’t want to put him off?”
“Put him off what?”
His beaming grin shone brighter. “You know. Put him off you.”
“And what makes you think that would matter? Why does everyone think I’m desperate for Rhys to like me?” And more to the point — how did they all chuffin’ well know? I thought I was doing a better job of hiding it.
The grin faltered. “Well. You know. Dawn said you two might be… you know.”
“Oh, I get it. Dawn’s playing matchmaker, is she? Let me tell you—” I stopped when something clanged on the stairs above us. “Duck!”
In the acid green glow of the emergency lights, a dark shape flung itself down the stairs and over our heads. It hit the wall with a reverberating crack and thumped onto the floor, where it lay motionless.
Slowly, I took my hands from my head and paced over to where the missile had landed.
“What is it?” Nikesh was by my side like a shot. He held the lantern up to get a better view of the object. Not quite as long as my forearm, made of bare wood with a rusty metal wedge on top.
I picked it up. “It’s a hammer. A wet hammer.” Soaking wet and smelling faintly of salt water, I turned it over in my hands. “An old, wet hammer came flying out of the dark.”
Nikesh held the lantern closer. “Look.” Inside, the candle flame flickered, dancing wildly. “It’s just like Rhys said! It’s a spirit breeze!”
“It’s just a draught,” I said. “Isn’t it?”
The flame stopped dancing and burned upright.
“Oh yeah, then why can’t I feel it? Can you?”
I shook water from the hammer and tucked it into the inside pocket of my jacket, then pointed to the stairs. “After you.”
Chapter 14
When we arrived backupstairs at the kitchen, Nikesh was still on a high. He told Rhys and Dawn all about the hammer and how it nearly took his head off, which was only a mild exaggeration.
“I don’t think Michael is coming back.” I watched for any reaction from Rhys.
He didn’t give much away. “I should text him and make sure he’s okay — later, though. My phone is switched off now. I promise.” He pulled it from his pocket to prove it.
Nikesh flashed his perfect white teeth as he spoke. “There’s something I want to try, if that’s okay. You’ve got walkie-talkies with you, haven’t you? Radios? Why don’t we try splitting up? There might be too many of us for the ghost to appear fully.”
“You think he’s a bit shy?” I asked.
Nikesh just grinned his perfect teeth. “Rhys, you said the ghost has been heard in the storerooms so why don’t we, like, wait in them? That’s what they do on all those ghost-hunting shows.”
Dawn’s eyes lit up. “Yes! Excellent idea, Nikesh. We can take it in pairs. Me and you, Rhys and Gaz.”
Rhys held up his little spiral-bound notepad. It flopped open, revealing his neat penmanship. “But my schedule. We should have finished and packed up five minutes ago…”
