“Sure you don’t want to go on that fishing boat with me?”
She sighed. “Ask me in a week.”
“The only ghost I’d like to see is King Arthur so I could ask him if he knows where the Fountain of Youth is. Think you could ask him?”
Kendall glanced at him in surprise, not sure whether he was joking. “I’ve never talked to a ghost.”
“With all the encounters you’ve had?”
“I haven’t had that many until recently. And they never talked.”
“Let’s go see if King Arthur’s feeling chatty today,” Jake said.
“The bodies aren’t here anyway,” Kendall said. “They were stolen.”
“His spirit might be here.”
A marker directed them to King Arthur’s grave located near the Lady Chapel. Kendall sat beside the grave, overwhelmed with a sense of sadness. And oddly enough, guilt.
“Are you OK?” Jake asked, kneeling beside her. He put a hand on her shoulder but immediately pulled it away.
“Sorry, I just tapped into something,” she said. “You felt it too, didn’t you, when you touched me?”
He didn’t answer, but he seemed disturbed. He put his hand on the grass, eyes dark, face tense, then suddenly stood. “I think it’s this place. Let’s get out of here,” he said quietly. “If we’re not going back to the hotel, we’ll have to find a place to stay. We can come back here later.”
Before she could stand, Kendall heard voices approaching. She turned and saw a group walking toward them led by a black-haired woman in a long blue dress.
“The grave of King Arthur and his queen, Guinevere,” she announced in a somber, theatrical voice.
“Want me to scare them off?” Jake asked.
She had no doubt he could do it. Kendall shook her head and stood.
“Oh, there’s someone here,” the woman said. “We’ll have to come back. We can go to the museum shop.” She started to shoo the group away.
“Wait,” one of the other women said. “They’re leaving.”
The woman turned back toward the grave. A look of frustration crossed her face as she walked closer. The rest of the group followed her like sheep.
Kendall stopped a few feet away, curious about the woman. Obviously she had, or was pretending to have, some paranormal abilities. Pretending, Kendall guessed, but she had always been intrigued by others with some unique abilities, wondering where they had gotten theirs. Most that she’d met were frauds. Occasionally she met someone with real abilities. She’d yet to meet anyone with her same gift, and she often wondered if that was what she searched for. Validation that she wasn’t a complete freak.
“Do you think his spirit is here?” one of the women asked. She had brown hair, brown pants, and a brown shirt.
“I think this would be more effective in the moonlight,” the black-haired woman said. “We could come back tonight.”
“Let’s try, please,” the woman in brown said.
The leader walked close to the gravesite. She closed her eyes and held out her hands over the plaque. She started to sway slightly.
“You gotta be kidding me,” Jake said too loud.
Kendall shushed him. “I want to see what she’s doing.”
“Arthur,” the woman called. “Are you here, Arthur?”
“I think I feel something,” the man in the group said.
“Like he’s drowning in shit maybe,” Jake suggested.
“I don’t think so,” Kendall said, looking at the figure that had materialized over the grave. “Oh my God.” This last was said louder than she’d intended.
The woman in blue turned. She looked irritated, until she saw Kendall’s face. Her eyes widened. “Everyone sit and hold hands. Close your eyes and think about King Arthur and Guinevere.” As soon as the group was seated and eyes closed, the woman hurried over to Kendall with the grace of a linebacker. “You saw something, didn’t you? I’ve seen that same look on Lizzie’s face. Did you see Arthur?”
Jake had stepped closer to Kendall. The woman hadn’t noticed him in her excitement.
“I’m not sure what I saw.” Kendall had seen something, but it wasn’t Arthur. She’d seen a woman with blood covering her face and clothes, standing next to the woman in a long blue dress.
“Tell me what it was. Please. If I don’t give them something to keep them occupied until Lizzie gets here, this group is going to leave,” she whispered harshly. “I have a fortune wrapped up in this trip. Half the group got a stomach virus and canceled. Then Lizzie didn’t show up. That’s my psychic. It’s not easy to get into Little Saint Michael’s. I’m desperate.”
Before Kendall could attempt unraveling what the woman had said, Jake spoke up. “Little Saint Michael’s?”
The woman looked at Jake and her expression changed. “Oh. I didn’t see you,” she said, appraising him. “That’s where we’re staying.”
“We’ll be glad to help out,” Jake said. He stuck out his hand. “I’m Jake, her assistant.”
Kendall stared at Jake. “Wait a minute—”
“I believe we should help out in time of need,” Jake interrupted.
The woman raised an eyebrow at Jake. “You don’t look like a psychic. You look more like a male stripper.”
Jake’s jaw clenched, but he folded his hands over his chest in an imitation of a spiritual man. “Physical appearance is of little worth.”
The woman nodded and gave his physical appearance another appraising glance. “I’m Halle. I’m the tour guide. We’re supposed to be on a three-day trip to discover King Arthur. We’re planning to see as many King Arthur sites as possible. Tonight we’re doing a moonlight meditation. Tomorrow’s a big day. We’re going to Camelot. Then later that evening we’ll attend a moonlight tour of the abbey and a séance near King Arthur’s grave. If we’re not too tired, the next day we want to get in a hike to the Tor and visit Tintagel, King Arthur’s birthplace, and Merlin’s cave.”
“Lots of moonlight events,” Jake said.
“The moonlight gets people in the mood for magic. If you could meet me at the house in an hour, we’ll make arrangements.” She started to walk off but turned back. “Thank you,” she whispered before rushing off to her followers who were peeking around with frowns on their faces.
“I’m sorry,” Halle announced. “I’m feeling faint. I need to meditate to restore my strength. We’ll have to come back tonight.” She ushered the group off amidst complaints.
Kendall turned to Jake. “What are you doing?”
“Getting us in to see the Blue Chalice without breaking the law.”
“I’m not a psychic. I’m not going to pretend to contact King Arthur for some unwitting group.”
“Then we break in. Or we could demand the chalice at gunpoint.”
“We don’t even have extra clothes.”
“At least they’re clean. We can have Nathan send some more things,” Jake said.
They did need to get inside the house, and this was the perfect excuse. “I’ll do it, but just until we see the chalice.”
They sat for a few minutes and planned their ruse. She was a psychic from America. Jake was her assistant. They would use their real names in case Nathan wanted to find them, especially since Jake had already blurted out his. It might be a mistake since the Reaper could find them too.
“This is… wrong. I feel like some kind of circus fortune-teller.”
“It’s survival.”
Kendall rolled her eyes. “Is there anything you haven’t done in the name of survival?”
“Not much.”
Kendall and Jake had a little time to kill before they went to meet Halle, but not enough to go back to the hotel. They bought toiletries and extra clothes—the same damned sweatpants and shirts from the same store they had stolen from earlier today. Just in case it took them overnight to find the chalice, Jake said. He slipped an extra two hundred pounds under the register when the woman was bagging their items.