"Trying to frighten our visitors, Miss Miller?" Louis turned the corner, a broad smile on his face and accompanied by Mister Mortimer who wove a figure eight around his ankles. I hadn't heard them approach.

"Alice was so nice to promise us an introduction into the castle's history." I picked up the cat, wondering if his master would mind us talking with guests about our assignment.

"Oh, that's wonderful. Mrs Sinclair's historical knowledge surpasses mine by far. I only know the pious Sir Guillaume built the castle in the twelfth century or there around."

Alice blushed, and Catherine's scowl deepened, her protective instincts plain to read. I stifled a chuckle and pretended to be occupied patting the cat. But Louis didn't pay her attention, studying Matt's outfit and bruised knee instead. "This is a nasty scratch. What happened?"

"Just getting a feeling for the premises." My partner seemed determined to play down his injury. "We searched for Theo."

"He waits for you in the courtyard, dinner is ready."

At the mention of food, my stomach growled. Catherine's scowl faded into a grin. "Let's get you fed before we start on comprehensive history lessons, shall we?"

Aside from the Swedes and my unfortunate encounter from the stairs, half a dozen other guests had assembled in the courtyard under bright yellow sunshades and munched on salads that made my mouth water. Mister Mortimer hopped from my arms and jumped into a wicker chair where he curled up.

At a round table set for three, Theo waited for us, still wearing his long-sleeved shirt, his jacket hung over the back of his chair. Matt waved at his two Swedish friends and plopped down next to our partner. "Here you are, already thought you'd gone on a solo mission to the mysterious illuminated cottage." He dipped a napkin into a water carafe and dabbed his bruise.

"I studied the brochure and explored the castle, trying to get familiar with the layout." Impressive. At least one of us had done his homework. He turned to Matt, frowning. "Which illuminated cottage?"

I pulled out my chair. "Some guests insist they saw a light in one of the re-emerged houses. We will have to check this at nightfall. I plan to earn that money, so we better get our act together and root out the offending wraiths."

"They will find us, don't worry." Theo picked at his salad as if he'd never tasted one before. "They might be averse to being exorcised, though."

I studied his lean features. His age was hard to determine, twenty-five? Thirty? The dark clothing underlined his paleness, and I felt my heartbeat quicken, relieved when the main course arrived and allowed me to busy myself with the pasta.

Conversation died down during the meal. Theo seemed absentminded and Matt distracted by his Scandinavian beauties at the adjacent table, giggling and throwing glances in our direction. When they left and most other guests had wandered off, we ordered coffee and took up the discussion of the ghost hunt.

"Our best lead so far is Catherine's light in the cottage." Matt drew circles with the foot of his wineglass on his tomato-sauce-splattered napkin. "We should try to capture it on video."

"Sure, but how, without professional equipment?" I knew the value of filming evidence. "It would be helpful, but it's not my expertise."

"I brought all we need. Technical gadgets are my cup of tea." A smug smile played on his lips and I remembered the briefing. I should have guessed he was a tech whizz when I saw his luggage.

"Clever, Lou picked complementary talents for the team. I can feel a ghost's presence and sometimes communicate. Courtesy of Grandma Elise, who was a wise woman. What about you, Theo?"

Before he could answer, a tingle ran from my elbow to my left wrist and made my fingers twitch. I closed my fist. Something was amiss. I knew the signal announcing a ghost only too well. Mister Mortimer jumped from his sleeping place with a hiss and left the yard at speed, confirming my suspicion. I leaned back to get a look around—right in time. A fragment of a second later, a gust of wind ruffled my hair and a blob of green goo splashed on the chequered tablecloth in front of me.

"Seems the ghost found us." I pinched my nose. "What kind of bird produces such stinky poop?"

"A ghost raven with a grudge." Theo studied the rooftop of the castle.

"Have you seen it?" I followed his gaze but found no trace of the offender.

"Big black beast, it swooped beneath the sunshade to place his load and pulled up to the gable."

Matt frowned. "You saw it for real?"

Theo shrugged. I was impressed. While my inherited sense for paranormal things warned me of a ghost's presence, he could see them in broad daylight. This extraordinary feat would be helpful in our quest. "Is the raven still around?" I doubted it, as the tingling in my wrist had subsided to a vague after-ache.

"No, he left towards the lake. I think the sun is about to set, didn't you want to investigate the cottage?"

While Matt went to fetch his video equipment, Theo and I searched the terrace mentioned by Catherine. It offered a beautiful view of the not-so-beautiful shoreline. The last golden rays of sunlight bathed the apocalyptic wasteland down by the water's edge. Alice had been right. Most houses were reduced to roofless ruins, plundered for everything reusable, including timber, before the lake claimed them. Only one small cottage gave the impression of being intact, standing out in the destruction zone. And while the sunlight faded away, in a window, a flickering light appeared.

"There, like Catherine said."

Theo shaded his eyes. "Could be a reflection, of the sunlight or something."

"Do you see it?" Matt reached us, breathing hard under the weight of a massive tripod and a camera with giant zoom lenses.

I pointed out the cottage, and he installed his equipment with professional ease. In the meantime, a few of the tourists joined us on the terrace, and the guy from the stairwell set up a camera of his own. Not as impressive as Matt's, but worthy of any ornithologist.

"Theo thinks the flickering might be a trick of the light, a reflection."

"Hard to tell, even with the maximum magnification." Matt pressed his eye against the ocular of his instrument. "I doubt we'll find the solution to this puzzle from up here, not without a proper telescope. Let's go investigate that hut."

"Not tonight, though, to brave this slope in the dark calls for disaster. We should wait until tomorrow and see if we find clues in the castle, first."

We stared for about half an hour at the vague light in the window, mulling our options, before it was snubbed out—or swallowed by the thickening dusk. Not finding a better plan than to postpone the investigation to the next day, we agreed to call it a night.

Back in the castle, Louis and his cat joined us for a nightcap in the rustic knight's hall. "Did you solve the riddle of that ominous window light?"

I shrugged. "Nothing conclusive so far, but Matt has it on tape, just in case. We also got a visit from your ectoplasmic raven. You're right, for a ghost, it has great aim but disgusting habits."

"Told you. Anything we can do against it?"

My hand found its way to Grandma's pendant. "My grandmother taught me a few things about ghosts. The most important is that they haunt the world of the living for a reason, unfinished business, a curse. When we find out what this bird's problem is, we can solve yours."

"Sounds like your grandmother was a person well-versed in otherworldly matters." Louis sipped at his beer.

"She was a remarkable woman." Although I'd abolished my former misgivings about our boss, I didn't feel like disclosing more. I was glad when Matt turned the conversation on a wild theory that ghosts were repelled by electromagnetic fields.

Louis seemed fascinated, but after a while, Theo winked at me. "It's already past ten, and this was a long day. I'll see you at breakfast."

I stifled a yawn and stood up, moving a snoring Mister Mortimer from my lap onto my chair. He gave me a squinting cat stare out of golden eyes and curled up, his tail twitching once. "You're right, I'll turn in too. Good night, everyone."

The stairs to my room appeared steeper than in the afternoon, and I felt the leaden tiredness—and probably the alcohol—weighing me down. To my pleased surprise, my room had cooled down, and a gentle breeze from the open window rustled the curtains. I took a quick shower and was about to slip under my sheets when the tingling in my arm recommenced.

Annoyed, I rubbed my wrist, waiting for my ghostly visitor to appear, prepared for another ectoplasmic stink bomb. Instead, a translucent, bearded gentleman in a shiny mail shirt walked straight through the door into my room.

"Ah, another beautiful maiden who found her way into my realm." He bowed from the waist, flourishing his billowing red cape. "I'm Guillaume de Corbières. An honour to meet you, my lady."

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