The Medium

I sat bolt upright. "What is it?"

"The demon has attacked Forbes."

The name sounded familiar but I couldn't place it. "Who's Forbes?"

"My parents' butler."

The full implication of his words took a moment to sink in to my sluggish brain. But when it did, I felt ill. "Is he...dead?"

Jacob nodded once and looked away but not before I saw the shine in his eyes, reflected by the candlelight. "He'd been with us for years."

"Oh, Jacob, I'm so sorry."

He shook his head and once more turned to me. His eyes had hardened again, the moment's vulnerability completely obliterated. "I need your help, Emily."

"I'll get dressed." He looked away as I put on a black dress, gloves and a long black cloak. I didn't bother with a hat and left my hair down. Usually I tied it into a braid before bed but I'd been too tired to do anything with it.

Jacob and I didn't talk. My mind was fully awake now, my thoughts tumbling over themselves, until one became very clear. Lord and Lady Preston were about to be burgled-and we had our best chance of sending the demon back to the Otherworld.

We left quietly, me with my boots in one hand, Jacob carrying the single candle. I had him wave it at the face of the clock in the entrance hall-it was three o'clock. Before we left, I found the amulet that had originally summoned the demon and hung it around my neck. I tucked the six-pointed star inside my bodice and glanced back up the stairs. All was silent. Hopefully we'd be back by dawn-I didn't want another argument with Celia. I felt bad enough about our dinnertime squabble.

Outside I put on my boots and together we set off down Druids Way. Oddly for our street, there was no wind. Not even a puff. Without a breeze to blow it away, the fog congealed around us, its damp fingers caressing my face, tangling my hair. I hated to think what my curls must look like with all the moisture in the air.

"It's very late," I said to Jacob. My voice sounded strangely disembodied in the thick night, our footsteps equally so. The feeble glow of the street lamps barely lit up the tops of their poles let alone us far below them. It was a strange feeling walking along the empty, fog-shrouded streets with a ghost at my side. My sense for the dramatic thought it the right sort of night for the dead-ethereal, silent, lonely. "When would your family usually arrive home after an evening out?"