“Are you sure you didn't just misplace it?”

  “You know as well as I, Kryll, that I do not misplace my items,” the ghostly shopkeeper argued, tossing various books and trinkets into a pile behind him. “I've run this shop for centuries and everything has always been exactly where I left it.” Ever since that boy in the hooded coat came in the other day, Skrapwerk had a feeling something was missing, and he was correct. The horn was gone.

  “Well, you’re getting old,” Kryll retorted dismissively, sinking back down into his fishbowl. He scooped up a few of the pebbles at the bottom with one fin and toyed with them. “Sometimes you forget to change the water in here too… just saying.”

  Skrapwerk’s ear twitched at that remark. His wispy, legless body turned sharply as he darted toward the bowl. “The last thing I need from you right now is your fishy sass!” he spat, face pressed against the glass. “Now if you’re so smart, help me look!”

  Just then, the looking glass on the wall started to glow bright, and a female voice came through. “Vespar? Vespar, are you there?” it said softly, the tone carrying a sense of urgency.

  “Almah?” Skrapwerk’s expression quickly changed to that of surprise. Turning his attention toward the mirror, he could see the image of a blue-skinned woman flicker into view. He took note of her face; there was something off about it. “My queen, what’s happened? You don’t look yourself.”

  Almah took a breath before speaking, her voice steady but heavy with unease. “Vespar, I don’t wish to alarm you… but I fear that Devilon has been set free.”

  Skrapwerk’s face fell. If he wasn’t already a ghost, the life would’ve been drained from him in that very instant. “No…” He slowly turned his head toward his assistant, who reacted in an equally distressed fashion.

  Kryll gulped. “So you didn’t…?” He didn’t need to finish that sentence; his boss just shook his head, yellow eyes still wide with fear and regret.

  Skrapwerk looked back at the mirror. “M-my queen, I must confess I-” as he frantically attempted to explain, Almah gently lifted her hand, signaling him to stop.

  “Now is not the time for placing blame,” she said bluntly. “I suspected this day might come eventually, and now it has. We must act before it’s too late.”

  The shopkeeper took a deep breath, calming himself. “Right.” He considered the situation momentarily before speaking again. “Has he escaped the temple?”

  Almah shook her head. “No. Devilon himself remains bound to those ruins by my barrier; this was not the work of a magical being.” She paused, her golden eyes meeting Skrapwerk’s through the glass. “It was a human. He is using a human as his vessel to retrieve what he desires…”

  “… The Celestial Stones.” they said in unison.

  “B-but you hid those things like 2000 years ago, right?” Kryll chimed in, desperate to see any sort of silver lining in this situation. “Lizard boy won’t even know where to look!”

  Almah sighed sadly before becoming serious once more. “I’m afraid he already has what he needs to track them down… which is why we must take action. Quickly.”

  Skrapwerk felt the weight of her words and nodded in determination. “Then there’s no time to waste.”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Cite Hafrey sat on the front steps of Appa High, reviewing the footage she had shot on her digital camera the previous night. “Welcome back occult fans to Specter Escapades,” said the recording. “Tonight, we investigate one of the scariest locations in all of Appa Hills-”

  “Your room?”

  The sudden voice made Cite yelp and jump up, almost tripping on the steps. “Jenn!” she whined, whipping around to face the speaker. “Don’t do that!”

  “Sorry, it was too easy,” snickered Jenn, adjusting the wireless headphones that hung around her neck. Her eyes drifted to the camera in Cite’s hand. “So? Did you end up catching anything good?” She asked, referring to the recording.

  Cite sighed and sat back down. “No…” she answered in a disappointed tone. “This sucks. I’ll never have a successful ghost-hunting show if I can’t even get proof of paranormal activity!”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll find something eventually. Maybe you’re just not looking in the right places.” Jenn suggested, trying to cheer up her friend. She glanced at the sun; it would be dusk soon. “Need a ride home? I’m sure my sister won’t mind.”

  Cite shook her head slowly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips despite her frustration. “Thanks, but I think I’ll walk. I need some fresh air to clear my head, plus dad won’t be back until late anyway.” She adjusted the strap of her backpack and started down the cracked sidewalk. “See you tomorrow!” She called out to Jenn, who waved back before heading in the opposite direction.

  The street was quiet, bathed in the warm, fading glow of the sunset. It had been rather foggy the past couple days, like something out of a horror movie. As Cite walked, her eyes caught movement ahead—a little girl, no older than 10, giggling softly as she played near the edge of a small park. Her laughter was light and carefree, but something about the scene felt strangely out of place in the stillness of the evening. For one, she was completely alone, not a parent in sight. Appa Hills was a safe enough town, but who would leave their kid out here unsupervised?

  As the curious high schooler drew closer, the girl suddenly paused and turned her head, her green eyes locking with Cite’s blues. A mischievous smile spread across the child’s face, and she let out a small, inviting chuckle. Without a word, she skipped away into the fog, her laughter echoing through the air.

  “Hey, wait! Where are you going?” Cite called out. It took a moment for her to register what direction the girl had gone in. She was headed right toward the old graveyard.