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cabin. Instead, I was alone, and here simply to find out what had happened to a dead man.
    I went back inside, and as soon as the door shut behind me, I had an impression. Brady was there, but he had not come through fully. There was a sense of foreboding, of anger and pain. I reached for more, but the impression remained on the periphery of my senses. I focused as hard as I could, but he did not come forward. I clutched at my stomach as a wave of shock and anger coursed through me. I knew what it meant. Brady had indeed been murdered.
    And then, there was something else, a word that came through clearly. Cyclops .
    The presence left, leaving only a void. I shook my head. Brady had been murdered, but was unwilling or unable to come forward to communicate, apart from the one word, Cyclops .
    I had studied Greek mythology in school, along with everyone else, so I knew that a Cyclops was a giant with one eye. But why was I getting that word here? And what did a Cyclops have to do with Brady Wayland’s death? If there was a connection, I had not the faintest clue what it could be.
     
     

Chapter 7
     
    I had called Amanda to tell her that her brother had not come through for me, apart from the impression that he had been murdered. I did not tell her about the word ‘Cyclops’ in case it was a code word for a police operation, or something of that nature. I thought she would be disappointed that Brady hadn’t come through, but she didn’t appear to mind in the slightest.
    I, on the other hand, was disappointed that I had wasted a whole day. I fed the cats, and then had to referee when Lily growled at Possum. All of a sudden, and in unison, the two cats abandoned their food and sprinted from the room, their fur standing on end. I swung around to see Alum. He shimmered softly in the evening light, and then took solid form—rather, what looked like solid form. At least the cats provided an early warning system: “Ghost incoming!”
    I chuckled.
    “I came by earlier, but you weren’t here,” he said.
    “Where did you go?”
    Alum looked puzzled. “I actually don’t know. Sometimes it’s as if I black out.”
    I thought that a little unusual, but I didn’t comment. What would I know? This was the first corporeal ghost I had ever seen or heard. “I found out that Brady Wayland had a sister, Amanda. Did you know that?”
    Alum stroked his chin. “I think I did, now that you mention it. My memory’s still hazy. Yes, I must have known.” He walked over and sat on the sofa next to me.
    I nearly offered him a cup of tea or a glass of wine, but then caught myself. He seemed so real, and I had already fallen into being comfortable with him. He was just like an old friend. An old, dead friend. I explained the whole day’s events, ending with the mysterious word, Cyclops .
    “Cyclops, huh? Like the comic book character.”
    “What?” I asked.
    Alum waved a hand through the air. “I read them as a kid. He was an X-Man.”
    “Oh, of course!” I said. I got up to pull the curtains and turn on the light. “I’d completely forgotten about the X-Men movies. I’ve seen them all, too. I was thinking of the figures from Greek mythology, the sons of Poseidon. You know—Odysseus tricked one of them, blinded him, and escaped from the cave by clinging to the belly of a giant sheep.”
    Alum looked at me blankly. “If you say so. But what does it mean?”
    I shrugged. “If only I knew. It’s so frustrating.” Of course, Alum didn’t need to know I was irritated for two reasons. I was irritated by the cryptic clue, and I was irritated that a handsome and caring man had finally joined me in my house, and he was dead. It was strange that I’d had an instant attraction to Alum, but I couldn’t pretend that it hadn’t happened. Of course, he was a phantom, and I was alive, and that was the end of that. It didn’t do to dwell on it. We were worse off than Romeo and Juliet. I smiled wryly at the irony of it