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would almost certainly come back again. Because they’ve nowhere else to go, or because they’re not ready to let go. Ghosts are all about unfinished business, and this many ghosts, together . . . They have a spiritual weight, a spectral impact on their surroundings, that is way beyond our understanding. And a purpose beyond our comprehension.”
    “But . . . there were children,” said JC. “That’s not right. We can’t just leave them down here, in the dark.”
    “I love it that you care,” said Kim. “And it’s sweet that you feel the need to Do Something . . . but you can’t help those who don’t want to be helped.” She looked briefly at Happy, then stared out into the dark again. “We have to keep moving, JC. There are far more dangerous things in the catacombs than ghosts.”
    “Could any of them help us?” said Happy. “With whatever it is we’re here to fight? I need information, and clarification, and possibly a very big stick with nails sticking out of it.”
    “This isn’t like you, Happy,” said JC. “It’s an improvement, but it isn’t like you.”
    “There is thunder and lightning in my veins,” said Happy. “And a lion growling in my heart. Point me at something, before it wears off.”
    * * *
    Kim led the way, into the dark heart of the catacombs. The stone passageways radiated out before them, with doors and rounded openings and high stone arches leading off in every direction. They all seemed extremely real and solid, but JC wasn’t entirely convinced. He trailed his fingertips through the thick dust covering the walls, and rubbed the stuff between his fingertips. More dust rose with every footstep they took though it took its own sweet time about falling back down again. Couldn’t get much more real than dust . . . JC peered over his sunglasses, now and again, to check out his surroundings with his altered eyes, but it all looked exactly the same. The catacombs were certainly real enough to contain and guide him and his team.
    At least he could hear his footsteps now, even if they didn’t seem to echo, along with Happy’s and Melody’s. Kim made no sound at all as she moved, even when her bare feet did seem to make contact with the floor. And she didn’t leave trails in the dust, like the others. JC kept a careful eye on the trail they left in case they needed to get the hell out in a hurry.
    “The air down here smells bad,” said Melody, after a while. “Dry, and sour . . .”
    “We’re a long way from the surface,” said Kim. “And I hate to think what else here has been breathing this air before us.”
    “Oh, gross,” said Happy.
    “Wish I still had my scanner,” Melody grumbled. “I’ll bet the carbon-monoxide levels are appalling.”
    “Is it only me?” said Happy. “Or can anyone else smell blood?”
    “We’re entering the oldest part of the catacombs now,” said Kim. “Built centuries before the Romans even thought of invading Britain.”
    “Who by?” said JC.
    “Good question!” said Kim. “I’m not sure there’s anyone still alive, or dead, or in between, that could tell you. We’re passing out of history and into legend. Into the place of myths and madness. I can say these are Druid things. Their subterranean galleries. Miles and miles of them . . .”
    “The Druids were supposed to be all about the Nature,” said Happy. “Why would they bury themselves away down here?”
    “To do the things their triple goddess wouldn’t approve of,” said Kim. “And given some of the things they got up to in the open, in the forests . . .”
    “This isn’t just a catacomb,” JC said slowly. “This is a maze . . . Built, perhaps, to keep Something in . . .”
    “Or to keep Something out,” said Kim.
    JC looked at her thoughtfully. “What is this place a home for, now?”
    “The dead, mostly,” said Kim. “Those not departed enough.”
    “Depends on whom you talk to,” Melody said sternly. “There are