Chapter Text
Jessica twisted her fingers on the rusted chain of the swing. She’d struck up a conversation with the other girl close to her age, but she didn’t have the knack for making friends with strangers like her mother and Anthony did. It wasn’t for lack of trying though, she just couldn’t find any common ground with her- Sarah, she said her name was. But she needed to make friends if she was stuck here for the foreseeable future.
A bell rang and Jessica glanced around, frowning. “What’s that?”
“Curfew warning bell,” Sarah said. She stood up from the swing and it clanged gently against the side of the play structure. “Best be heading home soon.”
Jessica bit her lip. Hopefully Uncle Jack would be done and come back for them.
“Anthony!” she called. “Come here!”
She glanced around. At some point the park had cleared out, all the other kids had left.
She didn’t see Anthony.
Jessica scrambled to her feet. “Anthony!” she called again, but no answer. She turned to Sarah. “Where did they go?”
Sarah shrugged. “Probably wandered down to the marshes by the river, lots of little kids like playing there,” she said.
Jessica’s heart thudded against her ribs. “The river?” she repeated. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Not for kids around here, nobody cares.”
Jessica pressed her hand to her chest. Evening gloom was beginning to creep around them, the air turning cold as the sun set. “Anthony!” she screamed. “Anthony, come back!” She turned around to face Sarah. “Which way’s the river?”
Sarah balked. “You shouldn’t go down there now, not when they’ve rung the first warning bell already, you’ll never make it back in time!” she said.
“My brother is missing!” Jessica said, her voice rising in panic.
“I’m sure they’ll wander back in time,” Sarah said, but she was starting to look a little worried. She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Mary! Lucy! Stop playing around!”
Jessica didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know where to go. She buried her face in her hands, her heart pounding. The world around her was getting darker every second. “Anthony, please, come back!” she screamed.
She didn’t realize she was sobbing until she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”
Jessica looked up into the kind worried eyes of a redheaded woman around her mother’s age. “My little brother’s missing,” she gasped out. “I wasn’t…I wasn’t watching him, he wandered off.”
The woman quickly set her shopping down and pulled Jessica into a quick hug. “It’s all right, sweetheart, I’m sure he’s fine,” she said. “Little ones wander off sometimes. How old is he?”
“S-six, he was six in February, his name’s Anthony, he’s got dark hair like mine and dark eyes-“
“All right, sweetheart, we’ll find him,” the woman said, rubbing her shoulder briskly. “We’ll flag someone down from night watch to go out there and look for him. Where’s your mummy?”
“She died,” Jessica blurted out. “We live with our uncle, he had a meeting with the agency and then he was coming to get us.”
The woman clicked her tongue. “Poor thing,” she said. She looked over at Sarah. “Why, Sarah Carlyle, what are you doing out here?”
Sarah shifted her weight. “Her brother was playing with my little sisters,” she said. “They’re out there too I think.”
By now a couple of other people had gathered around, distracted from their hurried routes home. “So there’s two of the Carlyle girls missing too?” someone said.
Another bell rang. “Fifteen minutes till curfew,” someone else said grimly, and Jessica choked on a sob. The redheaded woman kept a gentle grip around her, rubbing her upper arm.
“Sarah? The hell’s the matter?”
Jessica turned around to see a broad shouldered woman striding towards them. “Nothing, Mum, it’s just-“ Sarah stammered.
“Where’s the other two?” her mother demanded. “You were supposed to be minding them.”
“Seems the littles just wandered off a bit,” the redheaded woman said.
Sarah’s mum turned red. “I told you to mind them!” she said. Sarah took a step back. “Could you not even manage that?”
Jessica’s vision swam. She should have been watching Anthony. She had to get distracted, she was so selfish thinking about trying to make a friend, and now he was gone and maybe she lost him forever and-
“Jessica!”
She whirled around and her little brother hurtled into her arms. “Oh my god,” she sobbed, dropping to the ground and pulling him onto her lap. “Where did you go? What happened? Are you hurt?”
Anthony wrapped his arms around her neck. “I’m okay, Jessa, don’t cry,” he said.
She hugged him tighter, not even noticing the mud all over his clothes, and pressed kisses over his cold cheeks. The redheaded woman patted her shoulder. “See? Everything’s all right,” she said.
Mary huffed, trying to catch her breath. “Ball got away,” she wheezed.
“We found it,” Lucy offered, hugging it to her chest. Her dress was streaked with mud and her face was pale. “And there was a Visitor out there.”
The girls’ mum strode over to them and slapped Mary. “A great girl your age should have known better than to do something stupid like that!” she said sharply.
Mary glared at her, her hand over her cheek. “You’d be just as mad if we lost it,” she shot back.
“Mrs. Carlyle, be reasonable,” the redheaded woman said. “Your girls are safe, that’s all that matters. And you ought to get them home quickly.”
Mrs. Carlyle grabbed Lucy’s little wrist and yanked her closer. Lucy didn’t make a sound, but Jessica saw her screw up her face in pain and try to squirm away. “We can handle this at home, I’ll say,” she said. “Come on.”
She stomped back to the sidewalk, dragging Lucy along. Mary and Sarah trailed behind her, heads hanging.
“It was my fault,” Anthony said in a small voice. “I kicked the ball too far and we had to go find it.”
Jessica smoothed his rumpled hair. “It’s all right,” she said. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”
Uncle Jack jogged across the streets towards them. “Sorry, that took so much longer than I thought,” he said. He stared at them, bewildered. “What’s happened? Why are you crying? Why’s Anthony covered in mud?”
“The little boy wandered off, his poor sister is in a state,” the redheaded woman said. She paused. “Are you their father or-“
“Uncle,” he said. “They’re my sister’s children, she, uh…she and her husband passed away a few months ago. I’ve got custody now.” The corner of his mouth tugged in a rueful smile. “I’m afraid I haven’t got the foggiest idea of what to do with them.”
The woman laughed, not unkindly. “It’s tough work,” she said. “I’ve got a girl around the same age as your boy, I know how it is.” She rummaged in her shopping bag for her receipt, then pulled a pen from her purse and scribbled something down. “I imagine you’re having an awfully hard time. If you ever need a hand or someone to watch them let me know. I’m between jobs at the moment, I’ve got some time on my hands.”
Uncle Jack took it. “Thank you,” he said. “It’s been a…a rough adjustment.” He held out his hand. “Jack Wilder.”
“Anna White.” She shook his hand, then smiled down at them. “You probably ought to get them home and out of those wet muddy clothes.”
“That’s a good idea,” Uncle Jack said. He reached down and picked Anthony up. “Come on, you two, it’s nearly curfew.”
It was dark by the time they got home. Uncle Jack made them frozen chicken nuggets and chips for dinner; Jessica couldn’t make herself eat anything but Anthony cleaned his plate for the first time in ages. He was oddly quiet as she gave him a bath, scrubbing the mud off his chilled skin, and he didn’t argue when she tucked him into her bed instead of his own.
She thought he was asleep already when she finally crawled into bed beside him, but he immediately snuggled closer. Jessica wrapped her arms around him, grateful that he couldn’t see the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.
“Jessa, I saw a Visitor,” he whispered. “Out in the marshes.”
She shivered despite herself. “It probably wasn’t a Visitor,” she said. “Maybe it was just a weird tree or an animal or something.” She kissed the top of his head and adjusted his blanket. “Go to sleep.”
“It wasn’t, though,” he objected. “It was real. It was a lady in a yellow dress, and her face was all-“
“Sh, go to sleep.”
Anthony wriggled around in her arms. “But I did!” he protested. “I saw her as clear as I saw Mummy and Daddy.”
“Anthony, you didn’t see-“
“I did! Mummy was in her blue coat, the one with the flowers on it. And Daddy was next to her but they weren’t holding hands like they always do. But they were crying, I could see them-“
“Anthony, hush ,” she snapped. She felt him flinch and she wrapped her arms around him tighter. “I’m sorry, I just…I just don’t want to talk about it, okay?”
“Okay,” he echoed.
She kissed his cheek and tucked him back in, hoping he would doze off. He was quiet and still, but she didn’t hear his breathing slow and deepen.
“Jessica?”
She bit back a sigh. “What?”
“Lucy said her mum beats her,” he whispered. “How can we make her stop?”
She nearly argued with him, nearly told him it was nonsense, but then she remembered Sarah taking a step back at her mother’s raised voice, Mary reeling when she was slapped, the tight clenched grip on Lucy’s small wrist.
“I don’t know,” she finally said. “I don’t know, baby.” She hugged him tighter, a fierce wave of protectiveness washing over her. “Go to sleep, we can talk about it later.”
Anthony pressed his hands to the glass, trying to catch a glimpse of the car making its way up the long drive. “Ani, stop, Mrs. Beecham’ll be mad if you leave fingerprints all over her windows,” Jessica said.
“Aren’t they really Uncle Jack’s and Mum’s windows? It’s their house,” he objected. “Besides, I want to see the agents.”
He’d met agents before, lots of them came to listen to his parents’ lectures, but he’d never gotten to see them in action. Secretly he hoped they’d ask him to help. He’d strapped his practice rapier on, just in case.
He looked out the window again and brightened. “Jessa, they’re here!” he cheered. He scrambled down from the windowseat but she caught him by the collar of his shirt like a kitten. “I want to go see them!”
“Uncle Jack said to stay upstairs and out of their way,” she reminded him, but he wriggled out of her grip and darted away. “Anthony!”
He scrambled down the hall and ran down the broad front stairs, his sister at his heels. Uncle Jack had just ushered the handful of teenagers in their mustard yellow uniforms into the foyer; he jumped down the last step and smiled brightly at them. “Hello!” he said. “I’m Anthony Lockwood, I saw the glowing thing.”
One of the teenagers, a boy around Jessica’s age with strawberry blond curls and freckles across his nose, grinned at him. “Aw, you mean a deathglow?” he said. Anthony frowned at him.
Jessica caught up to him. “Anthony John! We’re supposed to stay out of their way so we can work!” she said.
The adult supervisor laughed, a thin hollow sound. “It’s all right, children are curious, especially if they’ve got Talent,” he said.
“This is my niece and nephew,” Uncle Jack explained. “And yes, Anthony is the one who saw the deathglow.”
“Ah, so Sight, is it?” the man said. He laughed again. “Maybe he’ll come work for me someday. How old are you, boy?”
Jessica wrapped her arm around his collarbone from behind him. “He’s six, and our parents didn’t want us to become agents,” she said, stiff and polite.
Uncle Jack squeezed her shoulder. “Jessica, Anthony, this is Mr. Jacobs, he runs the local agency,” he said.
“Just took over a few months ago,” Mr. Jacobs said. He cleared his throat. “If you don’t mind, I’ll let my team get set up while we still have a bit of daylight. Where on the property did you say it happened?”
Uncle Jack hesitated. “That’s a good question,” he said. “I wasn’t with them when it happened, and the grounds are fairly expansive.”
“I can show them!” Anthony said. “I remember!”
Jessica tightened her grip around him. “No, that’s too dangerous,” she said.
“It may be for the best,” Mr. Jacobs said. “He’ll save us quite a bit of time if he can guide us to where it happened, and we’ll take every precaution.”
“Please, Uncle Jack?” Anthony begged, squirming out of Jessica’s hold. “I want to help. I can help them.”
He could see him wavering. “I suppose it could be helpful,” he said.
Anthony grabbed his hand and gazed up at him. “Please?”
Uncle Jack sighed. “You look too much like your mother, I could never say no to her either,” he said. “All right, you can go.” He looked at Mr Jacobs. “As long as you can guarantee his safety.”
“Oh, absolutely, Mr. Wilder, I’ll assign one of my agents to stay with him.”
“Should I come along as well?” Uncle Jack asked.
Mr. Jacobs waved his hand dismissively. “Adults with no prior agent experience- were you ever an agent, Mr. Wilder?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Adults without prior experience or training tend to make things a bit more difficult,” Mr. Jacobs said. “We’ll just take the children.”
Uncle Jack frowned. “Jessica-“
“I’m going to go too,” Jessica said quickly. “Come on, Anthony, let’s get your wellies and your coat.”
“I don’t need them,” he objected.
“Yes, you do. Come on.”
His sister’s tone clearly permitted no argument and he hurried to obey. Despite having to put on the hated wellies he was too excited to care. He was going to see agents working.
Jessica met him in the hall, now with thick woolen tights under her dress and a coat draped over her arm. “Come here, let me fix your buttons,” she said.
He stopped long enough for her to kneel down. “You have to listen while we’re out there,” she said. “It’s getting dark and that’s when things get dangerous.”
“We’ll be okay,” he said. “There’s agents. And I can see ghosts, even if you can’t, so I’ll keep you safe.”
Somehow this seemed to make Jessica sadder. “We’ll keep each other safe,” she said. “Stay really close to me, okay?”
He could only nod, unsure of why she seemed so sad.
When they returned they found the agents setting up shop in the foyer, sorting through their supplies and repacking their bags. Mr. Jacobs waved them over. “Ah, yes, Andrew and Julie-“
“That’s not our names,” Anthony objected.
Mr. Jacobs cleared his throat. “I’m assigning one of my agents to accompany you,” he said. He beckoned to the boy with the strawberry curls. “Kipps here will look after you.”
Kipps walked over to them, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his rapier. He was taller than Jessica and lanky, like he was halfway through a growth spurt and it hadn’t settled yet. “Hiya,” he said. “I’m Quill Kipps.”
“I’m not Julie,” Jessica blurted out, and immediately a pink blush rose on her cheeks. “I mean, Mr. Jacobs called me Julie, and that’s not my name, I-“ She took a deep breath and held out her hand. “I’m Jessica Lockwood.”
Kipps shook her hand. “Nice to meet you,” he said. He leaned in a little closer. “And don’t worry about it, Jacobs still calls me Will half the time.”
Jessica laughed a little, hiding her mouth behind her hand. Kipps grinned at her, then crouched down. “And who’s this little guy?” he said. He ruffled Anthony’s hair. “You playing agent, sport? I like your toy sword.”
Anthony scowled at him. “It’s not a toy, it’s my practice rapier,” he corrected. “And your hilt’s broken.”
Kipps’s face reddened. “This is my little brother Anthony, and I swear he’s usually well behaved,” Jessica said.
Kipps straightened up, covering up the taped-up part of his hilt with his hand. “Well, I guess we ought to get going before the sun sets much lower,” he said. “Stick with me.”
Anthony did not want to stick with him. But clearly he didn’t have much of a choice, Jessica wouldn’t let go of his hand and she seemed determined to stay in step with Kipps. He had to trot a little to keep up with their pace, tramping through the grass in his dumb rubber rainboots.
“So when did you move up here?” Kipps asked.
“A few months ago,” Jessica said. “Our parents passed away and Uncle Jack brought us here.”
“Oh,” Kipps said. Anthony kicked at a rock. That’s how people always seemed to react now when they found out that Mummy and Daddy had died, they got that odd sad-eyed look and took a long pause. Kipps cleared his throat. “Where’re you from, then?”
“London.”
“Oh, that’s cool,” he said. “I’ve never been there myself, but someday.” He grinned at her, his freckles dancing on the bridge of his nose, and the pink in Jessica’s cheeks turned more vivid. “I was born and raised in the Cheviot Hills, whole family is. Oh, watch your step.”
He held out his hand to help Jessica over a puddle. Anthony trod straight through it as he followed them, smirking in satisfaction as mud splashed up the back of Kipps’s pristine yellow and maroon uniform.
“So it’s just you and your brother up here in this big old house?”
“And our uncle, he and my mum lived here when they were little,” Jessica explained. She glanced back at Anthony and stretched out her hand; he hurried to catch up and squished himself between the two of them. “We’re homeschooled for now.”
“Aw, yeah, I’ve pretty much quit school to work for the agency, Mum and Dad just make me keep up a bit on my own,” Kipps said. He grinned at Jessica and twirled his rapier around, clearly showing off. “I spend most of my time practicing this, though, that’s more important. I’m going to interview with Fittes in London once I’m old enough. I’m thirteen, they don’t look at you till you’re fourteen.”
“I’ll be thirteen at the end of June,” Jessica offered.
“I’m six,” Anthony interrupted. “I’ve been fencing since I was five. You need to adjust your grip when you do that turn.”
Kipps frowned. “Well, I’ve been fencing longer than you, and I don’t think-“
“Oh, look, over there,” Jessica interrupted, pointing over the field. “Anthony, isn’t that where you saw it?”
He turned around, distracted, instinctively squeezing her hand harder. “I think- oh!”
Jessica rummaged in her jacket pocket and pulled out a pair of sunglasses. “Hold on, Anthony, put these on first,” she said.
“Will he really need those?” Kipps said.
“His Sight is really strong, the first time he saw the deathglow it gave him a bad migraine,” Jessica said. “He puked all over his bed.”
Anthony flushed red with embarrassment as Kipps snickered. “Jessica!”
“Well, you did.”
He shoved the sunglasses on. “The deathglow was a bit farther away, I think,” he said, changing the subject. “Just past those trees.” He let go of Jessica’s hand and ran ahead, the sunglasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. “See? There!”
“That faint little thing?” Kipps scoffed.
Anthony grinned at him. “Well, to me it’s really bright,” he said, and was delighted to see Kipps scowl.
The other agents had caught up by then, Mr. Jacobs trailing behind them. They had more questions for him, and Anthony answered them happily, enjoying being the center of attention. Jessica hovered close to him, glancing around the fields. “Can we go back?” she asked. “It’s getting dark. We found the spot for you.”
Mr. Jacobs glanced around, as if he was just realizing the sun was setting fast. “Oh, yes, that would be a good plan,” he said. “Kipps needs to help set things up, and then he can escort the two of you back to the house.” He smiled, but it seemed neither kind nor confident. “All hands on deck, you know how it is.”
Anthony watched the agents with keen interest. They were so efficient, working like a well oiled machine to prepare the jobsite. From the depths of their kit bags they produced all sorts of odd things; the air around them smelled like salt and lavender and iron. All of them carried rapiers too, and he held onto the hilt of his little practice sword.
Jessica didn’t seem nearly as excited. She kept a hand on him, glancing nervously around their surroundings, occasionally turning back in the direction of the house. “Mr. Jacobs, I can take Anthony back myself,” she called, but Mr. Jacobs was busy discussing something with the oldest agent. She bit her lower lip. “Maybe we should start walking back.”
“I want to stay and watch,” he said.
Jessica made an anxious little humming noise. “We probably should wait for someone to go with us, just in case,” she said. “Please hold my hand, Anthony.”
He obeyed but he was still enthralled by watching the agents, so enthralled in fact that he didn’t realize how far the sun had dropped below the horizon. “Mr. Jacobs, please , we need to go!” Jessica called. “Can someone walk us back now?”
Mr. Jacobs looked over at them and started, as if he’d forgotten they were there. “Oh, lord,” he said. “Kipps, do you mind-”
“Mr. Jacobs, we’ve got company,” Kipps said, drawing his rapier.
Anthony looked over at the deathglow. Under the nearly-vanished sun it was brighter than ever, glowing white like the stars beginning to peek out overhead, and he could see the Visitor now. His heart stopped beating for a split second.
Mr. Jacobs cursed. “No time for someone to take you now,” he said. “Quickly, into the iron circle.”
Jessica dragged him over to a circle on the ground made from heavy iron chains and wrapped her arms around him tightly. “It’s okay,” she said. “It’ll be okay, Anthony, we’re safe here.”
Mr. Jacobs joined them. “Don’t worry, children, they’re professionals,” he said.
Anthony pressed his cheek against Jessica’s hip, holding onto her while he watched the agents work in fascination. The Visitor was huge, and as the moon began to rise he could make it out even more clearly. It was a man dressed in old clothes, at least a hundred years old, and his shirt front was ripped open and black like he was bleeding.
“What’s that sound?” he asked.
“I don’t hear anything,” Jessica said, and he didn’t press her further, but he could make out a steady loop of faint thin sound that sounded more clear every time he heard it- an ox bellowing, the squelching rip of turf overturning, a guttural cry.
One of the agents lobbed a bomb of some sort that exploded into white sparks when it touched the Visitor. “Salt bomb,” Mr. Jacobs explained. He took a little flask from an inner pocket of his jacket. “Helps clear them out faster.”
Jessica’s brow furrowed, her eyes flicking to the flask. “Oh, this,” he said, laughing a little. “Just a nip for the nerves, never you worry.”
Anthony ignored them, watching the agents fight against the Visitor. Moonlight flickered on their blades as they struck and parried; every so often a salt bomb exploded like fireworks. Jessica’s grip tightened on his shoulder.
“I’ve got it!” one of the agents called, holding up a chunk of rusted metal. Kipps tossed her a silver net, and as she draped it around the metal the Visitor blinked out.
“We’re clear!”
Jessica let out a long shaky breath. “Thank goodness,” she said. “Can we go home now?”
“Yes, yes, let me get one of them to walk you back,” Mr. Jacobs said, kicking at the iron chain circle as he stepped over it.
Anthony twisted around to look up at Jessica. “That was so cool,” he said. “Did you see when they-”
“I saw, I saw,” she said. She ran her hand over his hair. “Let’s go home, okay? Are you hungry?”
He wasn’t hungry, he wanted to stay and watch, he wanted to ask a million questions. Unluckily, though, Mr. Jacobs sent Kipps to walk them back to the house, and he didn’t want to talk to him about it.
Kipps shone a large torch as he escorted them back, sweeping the beam across the grass. “So what did you think of that?” he asked.
“Terrifying,” Jessica said.
He laughed. “Aw, it’s not so bad,” he said. “It’s kind of fun, actually. I’ve got pretty strong Sight and Listening, I had a good handle on what was happening. Do you have any Talents?”
Jessica was quiet for a moment. “Not…not really,” she said. “Anthony’s got it though. Sight, really strong Sight. It started up recently.”
“I think I’ve got some Listening too,” Anthony interrupted. “I could hear things out there, weird things, and it stopped as soon as the Visitor went away.”
“Yeah, that was his death loop,” Kipps said. “He was some farmer from the old times, I think he got killed in a plowing accident. Lily found the plow blade, that was the Source.”
“I know about Sources,” Jessica said. “She wrapped it in silver so it sealed.”
Kipps smiled at her in the shadowy beam of his torch. “Yeah, you got it,” he said. “You don’t have Talents but you know about Sources?”
“Our parents were researchers,” Jessica said. “They traveled everywhere studying and lecturing. They took me along sometimes.”
“Yeah? Where’s the farthest you’ve traveled?”
“Africa, probably,” Jessica said. “We went to Kenya when I was six, before Anthony was born.”
“I’ve never gone farther than Newcastle, Kenya’s a bit farther than that, I think,” Kipps said, and Jessica laughed.
Anthony’s mouth tugged down in a scowl as he listened to them talk. Mum and Dad were going to start traveling again now that he was older and they’d promised he would finally get to go on trips too. Now he was stuck here without them.
Kipps escorted them up to the door but Uncle Jack opened up before he could knock. “There you are, thank god,” he sighed, immediately scooping Anthony up. “You’re all right? You’re safe?”
“We’re fine,” Jessica said, even though her face was pale and haggard and her hair ribbon had come untied.
“It’s all taken care of, sir,” Kipps said. “A Type Two Spectre lurking about. The Source has been sealed and we’ll take it to the furnaces tomorrow.”
“Good,” Uncle Jack said. He adjusted Anthony on his hip. “Good, I’m glad it’s taken care of. There’s no telling how long the grounds have been haunted, no one’s gone out that far in years. Tell Jacobs I’ll stop by and settle things up later in the week.”
Kipps nodded. “I’ll let him know,” he said. He turned to Jessica and grinned at her. “Bye, Jessica. I hope I’ll see you around.”
The odd pink flush rose up on Jessica’s cheeks again. “Bye, Quill,” she said, dropping her gaze shyly.
Uncle Jack ushered him out and closed the door behind him. “I’m so glad you’re safe,” he said. “You two ought to go right to bed, it’s late.”
“Uncle Jack, it was so cool!” Anthony said. “The agents all had rapiers, and they had salt bombs, and I saw the Visitor! I could hear him too, it was-”
“It was awful,” Jessica said flatly.
“Well, it’s over with now,” Uncle Jack said. He set Anthony down on the ground and hugged Jessica around the shoulders. “Go on up to bed, I’ll let Mrs. Beecham know you’ll be sleeping in tomorrow morning so she can hold off on breakfast till you’re up.”
Jessica took his hand and led him up the stairs, but Anthony couldn’t possibly think about sleeping. All he could think about was the clash of the rapiers and the sting of salt and the satisfying way the Visitor flickered out of view and left them in the quiet safe dark.