I was thrown so roughly out of the vision that the next thing I knew, my arms were pinwheeling and then I was flat on my own rear end. I blinked rapidly as nausea tried to take over, but some deep breathing kept me from losing the treats that I'd spent extra money on.

  “So, what did you see?” Gildebrak said, interest apparent in her voice.

  When I answered, I knew my voice was somewhat monotone, but I felt like I was still catching up with everything I’d just seen. It had truly been unlike anything I’d ever experienced. There would always be a before and after the first time I, uh… communed? with a lost spirit. “I saw her die. And I saw her attach to the trucker from the diner.”

  “What happened? Was he related to her?”

  I couldn't help but look at Gildebrak with a bit of wonder. The easy-going way she questioned me told me she knew exactly what was going to happen and had wanted me to see it. And I was glad I had seen it, because suddenly I understood so much, at the same time, I once again had a million more questions.

  The first and foremost being why.

  “No. They actually never met before. She was killed by a drunk driver; she couldn't have been more than in her mid-twenties. But she didn't go after him. The trucker he was... he was in mourning. He was in pain. I guess she found camaraderie with that, because she sought him out. And once she finally was in the same space as him... she talked to him.”

  “And what did she say?”

  “She said, uh, that she saw him.”

  Strangely enough, the moment felt almost intimate. Like two people reaching across impossible odds because they shared a common pain. The agony that came from an unjust loss of life. From death too soon. It was a dark and inky pool to drown in, but oh the comfort from having someone else’s hand to grip while sinking under…

  “If she was able to speak, then she wasn't fully born as a phantasm. That must have come later, perhaps after years of trying to get away. Pain can be an addiction to lost spirits. It hurts, yes, but it's sensation. Sensation that they chase since it reminds them of the life that they don't understand that they lost. Or they're angry about losing. Poor thing.”

  There was a surprising amount of empathy and heartbreak in the smaller Reaper’s words, and I couldn't help but marvel at how different her approach to the whole guardian of the dead business was compared to the mean girl Reapers I had met first. She didn't seem to view it as a fight, or that the phantasm was our enemy. No, she almost seemed like a zookeeper trying to help an animal that was scared and hurt.

  “What was that? How was I able to see it?”

  “It's another Reaper ability. It's supposed to help us gently guide spirits to where they're supposed to go. We have canisters, of course, and we can forcibly redirect lost spirits if they’re too dangerous but it's better for everyone if we can find a way for them to absolve themselves and voluntarily travel down the path to the afterlife they’d already chosen. Self-determination and all that, you know?”

  “But the others didn't do anything like that!”

  “The others?”

  I could almost hear the voice audibly click her tongue within my own head. “Some are much more cruel to these spirits than they have to be. Or they view it as a game. A competition. These are people's souls, even when they are utterly lost, they deserve our compassion.”

  “I thought that these evil spirits were like bad people. Like murderers, and abusers. You know, people who didn't deserve an afterlife!” Why else would they be so violent? Why else would they choose to stay on earth when they lived in an era where we knew that gods were real and that wonderful afterlives actually existed?

  “Well, I'm not sure where you got that impression. But anyone can be a lost spirit. Didn't I mention that particularly large accidents and disasters caused an uptick in lost souls due to sheer traffic issues? That should have been a tip off.”

  I suppose that she had, but so much had been dumped on me lately, that it had been hard to keep track of it all. But still, it made my heart ache in a way that I wasn't really prepared for. The spirit that had chased me before, what had been its deal? Had it been a murderer who rotted in prison before being stuck on the mortal plane, or was it a mother who had lost her children through no fault of her own? Was it a cancer patient who had to watch their body wither away while they fought their greatest battle and eventually lost? Was it a father who was loved and missed by his family?

  What if it was my own mother?

  That thought struck me right down to my very core, and not for the first time that week, my entire worldview completely shifted perspective. Sure, the phantasm was terrifying, and it wasn't exactly fun being chased down by it, but she was a victim. And it wasn't my job to vanquish her.

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  It was my job to save her.

  When I stood to my full height, I was filled with a determination I hadn't had in quite a while. Maybe ever. I squared my shoulders, and afixed Gildebrak with the most serious expression I could.

  “Alright, what do we do now? How do we help her?

  The grin that split the younger-looking Reaper’s features was nearly blinding. “I was hoping you would ask that. We need to try to unbind her from her pain. To convince her to let go of that familiar sensation that's been keeping her tethered here and guide her to the great beyond.”

  “Well, when you say it like that, it sounds so simple.”

  “Oh, trust me, it most certainly is not. You'll need to sit side-saddle for this, but give me your hand. You've already got a seal, so it should still activate even if you’re not fully a Reaper yet.”

  “Seal?” I asked before belatedly remembering the mark on my wrist. Oh right. One would think that wouldn't be something I'd forget, but considering everything I'd experienced in the past few days, it was pretty low on the shocking totem. “Oh yeah, I do.”

  “Perfect. Just follow my lead, okay? Try to exude firmness, but compassion. Be understanding, but uncompromising. Be direct, but also gentle.”

  “Uh-huh, completely not complicated.”

  “Exactly!” Glidebrak’s wide smile somehow grew even wider, which didn’t quite seem physically possible and made me wonder if that was a Reaper ability too. “Now, here’s the part where we have to step inside of the circle.”

  “Step inside of it?” I questioned even though I knew she wasn’t joking. I sorely wished she was. “Inside the barrier we set up to specifically contain this very confused and violent spirit that’s been tortured by her own murder and pain for who knows how long.”

  While I had seen the event that had set her on the path she was on and I had immense compassion for her, I could still feel where her claw marks burned down my back. I wasn’t exactly interested in an encore of that sensation.

  “I know, exciting, isn’t it?” Gildebrak retorted before tugging me inside.

  And just like that, we were completely enveloped in the smoke of the phantasm. It was exceedingly cold, colder than the energy from the chain, and yet it burned my mouth and down my throat as it seeped its way into me. I gripped Gildebrak’s hand tightly, squeezing even harder when the spirit’s ever-shifting face appeared in front of mine, snarling and screaming. But this time, instead of seeing a violent and terrifying monster, I saw a terrified creature. One who was lost and alone.

  I saw a girl who was scared and so very, very sad.

  “Hey there,” I said without prompting. Maybe I was messing things up, as Gildebrak hadn’t exactly told me the next step, but it felt right. “I don’t think we got off on the right foot, but I’d love the chance to talk.”

  The face screamed, really screamed before exploding into a cyclone of ash and dust. That didn’t really seem like a positive reaction, but then Gildebrak was speaking right beside me.

  “We know that your life was taken away unfairly. That one moment you were there, the next there was a great and terrible pain, and that was all you could see, hear, and feel. And for that I am truly sorry.

  “But I promise you, it's not supposed to be like that. The pain is supposed to stop, and you have a wonderful place to go that's been waiting for you for a very long time.”

  So, this was it? Not that I was doubting my Reaper friend, but it seemed an awful lot like therapy. Not that I actually had medical insurance to afford such a thing on my own, and I didn't trust any of the free mental health services offered by multiple temples.

  The phantasm shrieked again, its body going into that same spider-like form I’d seen in its memory, but Gildebrak simply stepped to the side when it struck at her with one of its spine-like feet.

  “It's hard, what you're going through. I won't pretend that it isn't. Some would say it's impossible. But it's not. There is peace waiting for you, just as there is healing waiting for the man you've anchored yourself too.

  “How many times have you been there with him when he's wept? Wrapped yourself all around him while that wound in his heart bled and bled over a son that should have been in his arms instead? As long as you are with him, he will never recover. I know you're fond of him. I know that when you saw him on that night when everything was ripped away from you, you saw a kindred soul. And the two of you will always be connected in a special way, but if you truly care for him, you must let him go. You must let yourself go.”

  At that, Gildebrak raised our conjoined hands, and I noticed her tattoo was glowing a brilliant sort of platinum. Mine too was shining, but not nearly as brightly, more of an iridescent, baby powder blue.

  Despite the lack of power in my own bio illumination, I still felt the energy channel through us. Once more I didn't have a name for it, or even an apt way to describe it. It was a force that felt as natural as breathing, yet as alien as being able to control lightning itself.

  I didn't fight it, however. Although I was completely out of my depth, I felt a responsibility to the creature in front of me that was so obviously in pain. Despite the craziness of everything, maybe I had been meant to be in that alley. Maybe, after so many years feeling lost, detached, adrift, this was the path I had always been meant to be on.

  Maybe. Or maybe I was just in the right—or wrong—place at the right time, and I was facing a crossroads in the rest of my existence. I could continue to exist on the fringe of what was happening to me, always a step behind, always reacting, or I could step forward and don the mantle of a Reaper to the best of my ability.

  I'd always wanted to help people, and so often I felt a bit bewildered as to how to do that. Now, it seemed that the opportunity was being made available to me.

  “You have family,” I said, letting the power continue to channel through me. And since Gildebrak didn't immediately hush me, I assumed that was tacit permission to keep going. “I could feel it in the memory you showed me. Don't you think they would want you to rest easy? Do you think that they would be happy knowing you're here, so hungry, so angry? I know without a doubt you are loved, and that when they laid you to rest, it gave them comfort thinking that you had passed on to somewhere better. Please, don't take that away from them. Let them be right.

  “Because, despite everything, you do deserve peace! It doesn't matter how long you've been lost out here, it doesn't matter that you're angry. None of that means you don't deserve a happily ever after. So do this for yourself, do this for the people you love, and do it for the man who you've grown to care for. It's time to close this chapter and move on to your next story.”

  The phantasm let out another roar, and maybe it was my imagination, but it seemed a lot less virulent than the last sound.

  “Good, Bridges! Now, time to give one last push!”