Harriet squinted at the ceiling, considering this, while Rima went off on a tangent about someone who had never paid up after a trade.
Did it only work with rats, or could you kill a larger animal that way? Surely the bigger the animal, the more energy it would release? If she’d felt that good after consuming the energy from a rat, how might a squirrel or a fox make her feel? Something so huge would surely be enough to help manifest her power.
Rima had stopped talking, so Harriet belatedly made an impressed expression. “That’s really cool!”
“Honestly, I mainly use my power to talk to animals, not hunt them. That’s how I got Cody to be friends with me – by turning into a fox. I started training her in that form, but it still took absolutely ages. She kept getting distracted by random things like dust and bumblebees. It took a few years before she would even sit down on command.”
“Wow.” That made sense of everyone’s obsession with the fox. But it was taking them off-topic. Harriet gently steered the conversation back in the direction she wanted it to go. “You’re so talented. I’d love to see you in action. Do you think that you could get me another animal spirit? Something bigger than a rat would be amazing. It would be a massive favour. Please?”
Rima’s smile dropped. “I’m sorry, Harriet. I don’t think it’s a good idea. Qi was right – your reaction to the energy was too strong. If things went wrong, I wouldn’t be able to control you like she did. I mean, you nearly tried to consume me too.” She laughed, then added, clearly worried that Harriet would take that the wrong way, “Not that you actually would have done it, if you’d known the owl was me, of course! It was an involuntary reaction. You’re just too fresh.”
Harriet smiled stiffly. So much for the power of friendship. Even when she was nice to her, Rima wouldn’t help her out. “No problem. I totally understand.”
She’d have to find someone else.
Rima squeezed her shoulder. “I really am sorry. Shall we go and find the others? Kasper and Felix are about due for their daily argument, and we want to get front-row seats. It might cheer you up?”
“Actually,” Harriet said, standing up, “I’ve got something to do. I’ll catch up with you guys later, OK?”
She hurried off, trying not to feel guilty about Rima’s hurt look. She had to use her time wisely, and there was no point making friends with people who couldn’t help her get home.
It was like her gran always said: Take what you need and move on when you’re not getting it. People were valuable until they weren’t – and Rima and the others had stopped being worth the investment.
Chapter 6
HARRIET
On the stairs between the second and third floors, Harriet stopped next to the scrawny dreadlock guy she had seen before. She realized now what he’d been doing – hunting rats for energy.
“Er, excuse me?” she said.
He held up one hand, listening to something inside the wall. After thirty painful seconds of silence, he stepped away and turned to her, grinning toothily. “It’s gone. You must have disturbed it. Hi, newbie.”
“Hi. I was wondering if you could get me a rat?”
“You’re quick off the mark, aren’t you?”
Harriet exhaled through her nose. “Sure. I mean, I guess. I’ve been here for almost a day, so…”
“Hey, I’m not judging. Have you got something to trade? What’s your power?” He tugged up his trousers, which immediately slipped down again. Their clothes all seemed to come along with them when they died, which Harriet thought was interesting. It was as if people’s clothing was an extension of their spirit. Or maybe it was just that people always imagined themselves in clothes, so their physical form mirrored how they saw themselves?
Harriet frowned. “My power hasn’t manifested yet. That’s why I want a spirit. To see if I can make it happen. What do you want for one?”
The guy let out a laugh. “Not anything you can offer, princess.”
Harriet swallowed a sigh. Time to turn on the charm again. She twisted a curl of hair around her finger, tilting her head sweetly at him. “Please?”
He snorted. “Goodbye.”
“But—” She stopped. Her instinct was telling her to back down.
“Thanks for all your help. I really appreciate it,” she said instead, as sweetly as possible.
“Whatever,” he muttered, and stuck his head into the plasterboard.
Harriet brushed back her hair, straightened her shoulders, and walked away. There was no point asking anyone else for a rat if they’d laugh in her face like this guy. To stand a chance of making a trade, she had to work out what the ghosts valued. Then find a way to get some of it.
Every innocent conversation seemed to reveal some new discovery about ghost life. She needed to talk to someone who knew everything there was to know about being a ghost, who had theories about powers and mythology. She had to talk to Felix.
I know it won’t help you much yet, but can I show you something?
When I was born, my mother had to hide me from my father. I was a girl, which was a disappointment. I was also nearly dead – born too soon and barely moving. She kept me alive, until I was strong enough that he wouldn’t have an excuse to kill me. I remember a moment from my childhood when he stared at me with unconcealed bemusement, like he couldn’t even imagine what was supposed to make him love me. The whole concept of fatherhood was completely foreign to him.
My mother adored me, and I think that just confused him even more. He couldn’t understand why.
That’s the way that Harriet looks at the others, when they are laughing and joking together. Like there is something that she’s missing. I wish there was a way to help her find it.
It’s hard to see what’s really going on if you love someone. They can mistreat you as much as they like, and you ignore it because you don’t want to acknowledge the truth. If you did, then you’d have to deal with it. And that can mean the end of everything.
FELIX
Felix was on a tour of the building, saying hello to all the people he hadn’t spoken to in decades, since the last time they were all awake. He was trying to find a guy who always exchanged comic-book theories with him, singing to himself as he walked, when he bumped into Harriet in the entrance hall.
“Have you got a moment to talk, Felix?” she asked.
“Sure,” he said, surprised.
They sat down together near the dusty, graffiti-covered reception desk on the ground floor. Harriet fell quiet.
She seemed distracted. He didn’t want to push her to speak, in case she needed time to compose herself before talking about her death.
Silence always made him slightly worried, though. It was just so loud. It set him off thinking of reasons why the silence could be awkward, until he wasn’t able to tell if it actually was an awkward silence or a comfortable one. By the time the other person spoke, he was usually sweating with anxiety.
He worried a lot about whether people hated him. Felix had been the self-conscious sort, when he was alive. He’d never taken any risks or stepped out of his comfort zone, just in case he was judged.