The cheery tune of my alarm clock tore me out of a deep, dreamless sleep. I struggled to open my lids, but when my drowsy gaze met Sir Guillaume's fiery eyes, I was wide awake in a second.

"Aren't we supposed to head to Avenches early, my lady?" His bulbous nose almost touched mine.

As if stung by a wasp, I retreated deep into the safety of my bed, turning to Lou, who mumbled something incomprehensible when I shook his shoulder. "Wake up, time to go curse-breaking."

A grunt told me he was awake now, too. "Why couldn't I fall for a woman who spends her time shopping instead of chasing spectres?" He turned to kiss me but stopped when he saw the knight standing by the beside. "Listen, Sir Guillaume, I understand you built this castle, are nocturnal, and don't care about the privacy of the living. But I'd much appreciate it if you could stay out of one room in this building—this specific bedroom."

A broad grin spread across the ghost's translucent features, and he scratched his chain-mail-clad belly. "Ah, my apologies, Master Louis. I feared you would forget about our excursion and oversleep. I'll wait in the living room until you and Lady Sandrine are dressed."

While Guillaume drifted through the wall without further fuss, Lou pulled me into a hug, nuzzling my neck. "I hope you know I was joking. You top the list of good things in my life. Sir Guillaume is up there in the top ten or twenty, too. Just don't tell him—it would inflate his head even further."

Despite the temptation to prolong the enjoyable moment, I had a job to perform. After an extended kiss, I left Lou's warm embrace and clambered out of the cosy bed to face the chill of the night and, worse, my upcoming curse-breaking task.

True to his word, Sir Guillaume lounged on the living room sofa, fiddling with the chamber pot on his knees. "I took the freedom to wake Master Matthieu, too. He promised to join us in a minute."

As if on key, Matt, who'd spent the night in a hostel bed, knocked and opened the door, yawning, his eyes still half-closed and his hair in the usual out-of-bed tousle. "Morning. A cup of black coffee, and I'm ready to go."

Ten minutes later, the castle's gate closed behind us. A breeze rustled the leaves of the trees and chased shredded clouds across the moon's pale face. The autumn chill made me glad for my fleece jacket, and I pulled its sleeves over my freezing fingers.

Sir Guillaume pouted when Matt unlocked his van. "Can't we go with the green carriage? It's more stylish, and this one lacks windows."

"As if this could prevent you from looking out." I opened the sliding door for the ghost. "Climb in. At least we won't get arrested for dangerous driving if you keep your head inside."

Still grumbling, he stretched out on Matt's provisional cot, ankles crossed and hands folded over his belly. Squeezed between Matt and Lou in the front, I was glad the knight's sulky mood allowed us a peaceful drive.

The sky was partially overcast, and I checked the weather forecast. It promised a dry night and temperatures above freezing. When we reached our destination, Matt parked the van amidst the cars of the coffee factory's night-shift workers. The smell wafting around the building made me long for another cup. "That's unfair. We should have brought a thermos."

Matt grinned and held one up, scanning the moonlit parking lot. "Have you seen Vic?"

"Let's unload our stuff. I'm sure she'll turn up any minute." She had assured me she would bring candles, the lamp, and Cinna's shard. Without them, the entire operation would be doomed.

We unloaded the heavy tools, the fire bowl, and a bundle of firewood from the stack in the castle yard. I stuffed Matt's thermos into my backpack on top of the makeshift tablet and a few other things that might be handy for an improvised ritual. Vic still hadn't arrived, and I checked my phone. "We're still early. Let's find a spot for the ritual first and call her if she hasn't turned up in fifteen minutes." I shrugged on the backpack and picked up the firewood.

Matt took the tools, Lou the fire bowl, and crossed the empty access road where it passed beneath the highway. The latter had been constructed on a dam that led to the long viaduct across the fertile plain further on. An environmental sin of the sixties.

At this early hour, only a few cars were underway, their light cones ghosting by on the highway above us as we clambered up the embankment and passed beneath the highway bridge to the path following the foot of the dam. Sir Guillaume, carrying his inevitable pot, offered me an apologetic smile. "I'd help you carry the wood, my lady. Alas, my condition forbids."

Lou chuckled. "Stop charming my woman, Sir Guillaume, or we'll stow that chamber pot of yours back in the attic, regardless of your condition."

"That would be like incarcerating me, not fair at all after you allowed me to sniff the enticing scent of the big, wide world."

Matt laughed. "Speaking of sniffing—what's that stench?"

I stopped to check the air. A strong, musky draft had replaced the factory's coffee smell and offended my nose, accompanied by a thumping sound. "Not exactly a stench, more of an animal smell. What's this?"

The thumps got heavier and were supplemented with low snorts. I dropped my bundle of wood, whirled around, and scanned the plain. This instant, the cloud obscuring the moon drifted aside. In the faint silver light, a large herd of shaggy beasts approached at a fast pace. With a gasp, I stumbled back, bumping into Lou. "We must get out of here."

He pulled me against him, and I could feel his chest shaking in suppressed laughter. "No need to have a heart attack, darling. It's just the buffalo. We must have disturbed their sleep."

"Aren't buffalo dangerous?" Matt seemed as close to panicking as I was.

Only Lou seemed as calm as usual. "Of course they are. It's not that they are domesticated. That's why the farmer who breeds them had to put up a solid fence."

Embarrassed, I took in the high fence running along the path. Solid was a mild word. The giant beasts stopped several steps in front of it, contemplating us while their breath formed little white clouds in the air. Sir Guillaume, of course, felt the need to investigate our bovine spectators. He lifted his bowl high above his head, drifted through the fence, and disappeared between the snorting animals.

I felt like snorting too. "Buffalo. As if we didn't have our hands full with ghosts and possessed conservators." Still shaken, I picked up my load and followed the path along the pasture fence the short distance to where the dam ended and the highway continued on the viaduct. Deep shadows shrouded the space underneath the traffic lanes, and only a thin beam of moonlight found its way through the narrow gap between the separated west- and eastbound lanes. It fell on parched, barren soil, a stark contrast to the lush grass of the buffalo pasture.

Relieved to find a quiet and well-secluded spot, I dropped my load. According to Vic, this was as near as we could get to the former En Chaplix memoria. The place was perfect for our ritual. Only the low rumble of the lorries passing overhead and the placid gazes of the buffalo could disturb us here. "Let's move over there, where the moon illuminates the ground."

Lou and Matt started a small fire in the bowl while I arranged my paraphernalia on my empty backpack. We were not finished yet when panting announced a visitor. Vic joined us, carrying a flashlight. "Sorry for being late. I thought it would be a good idea to pick up Paul on the way, but either he wasn't home or I couldn't wake him."

"I'm sure he'll turn up when we assemble the lamp." I accepted an orange shopping bag and retrieved the candles from within.

Vic shrugged off her backpack with a glance at the buffalo. "Seems you already attracted an interested audience."

"You could have warned us. These overgrown humpback cows gave me the second shock of the night. First Sir Guillaume acting as a chaperone in the bedroom, and then a herd of buffalo."

Lou placed another log on the fire and joined us. "You should read the newspaper, San. These bisons have been a local attraction for at least a decade. What's next?"

"The candles. I need a ring around the fire and a hole in the ground wide enough to bury the tablet—at least a foot deep. If possible, right here, in the patch of moonlight."

While Matt helped me set up and light the candles, Lou picked up the spade. But after the first two scoops, Vic interrupted him. "This needs the hands of a pro."

With enviable ease, she dug a square hole big enough for our offering within minutes. When she finished, I asked her for the lamp.

In the firelight, her features seemed leaner than usual while she unwrapped the artefact and held it out of my reach. "You know I can get into trouble for this?"

Matt nudged her shoulder. "We all could. Do you want to step back?"

"And leave Paul an insufferable prick? I know the two of you are no longer on speaking terms, but I want my colleague back. Here." She pressed the lamp int my hand.

Sir Guillaume, returning from his excursion wearing a smug expression, placed his bowl near my backpack and a hand on his chest. "Ah, I always admired determination in a woman."

Lou laughed, lit an incense stick, and placed it on the bowl's rim. "I'm glad you shifted your flirting to a new target. So, I think that's all for the preparation—your game now, San."

"Thanks." I turned to Vic. "The last thing we need is the shard."

Vic pulled a small package from the pocket of her jeans, unwrapped the shard and slid it into place with a gentle click. The scene was set.

This time, we had to wait longer for the ghosts. I had expected this but shivered, unsure if the night's chill or the nerves got to me. But before my doubts became overwhelming, a wisp of smoke formed outside the circle marked by the flickering candles and took Cinna's slender form. She wavered outside of the limitation of the circle, swaying back and forth like willow branches in a gust. Sir Guillaume stepped up to her, reaching out his hands in greeting. "Intra, domina mea."

At his invitation, she crossed the invisible line marked by the candles. There was magic afoot tonight. But where was Paul?

We waited in silence while Cinna whispered in low tones with Sir Guillaume. The fire sizzled, and Lou added another log. Paul was still missing. Vic locked her lips, a sign of nerves I had learned to recognise, and pulled out her phone to call him. No one picked up at the other end.

Something was wrong.