This ghost was no mere shade. Its form was more distinct for one, and it also spoke to them using actual words. Not that it had much to say: “Who dares disturb my gold?”

  Sammy stared at it in shock, and when it spoke her mouth dropped open. “Jasper?”

  “You know the—not important,” said Ian, “This type of phantasm manifests partially on the physic—”

  “Quicker!” snapped Sammy as the ghost swiped at her, “And in plain speech!”

  “You can hurt it with a sword!”

  Ian tried to zap it with a basic magical discharge, as he had done to the shades. It didn’t not work, but it didn’t work very effectively. “Don’t you have a better attacking spell than that??” shouted Sammy.

  “I do, but it’s life-draining. It won’t work well on a specter.” He tried it. It didn’t work well on the specter. “I can keep doing this. It is hurting it, a little, but I think this one is mostly on you, Sammy!” Ian continued alternating between the two spells, hoping this would prevent the phantasm from building up a resistance to either one.

  Sammy recovered from her initial shock and hurried forward. She swung her cutlass. It swept through the specter, as it had the shades, but there was a little difference. There was some resistance there, and as her blade passed through it scattered bits of shadowstuff and ectoplasm.

  She was definitely hurting it more than he was. It turned to face her, and thrust one clawed hand into her chest. “Aaagh!” she cried out.

  “Stab it!” said Ian.

  “It’s not really a blade meant for stab—”

  “It’s not solid, it doesn’t matter. Stab it!” She ran her blade through it. “Good! Hold it there for a second.” Ian touched the tip of the blade that was sticking out of the ghost’s back. He hesitated, but only for a fraction of a second. "This might hurt. Keep holding it anyway!”

  He cast magical energy into and down the blade, letting it run through the spirit. The specter wailed. Samm also shouted out in pain as the energy ran through the sword and into her hand. (That was really her fault; a proper sword should have a handle made of a less magically conductive material, and it was hardly his fault she’d cheaped out.)

  With a final, horrible, shriek, the ghost burst, hitting them both with a blast of stale air. Sammy gasped, a hand over her chest. “It—he—” she choked out, “I think he grabbed my heart.”

  “Yes. The effects are similar to my life-draining spell. I can make a potion to help you, but you’ll recover in a few days without it. How do you feel about scars?”

  “Huh?”

  “You’ll have a very interesting scar where the spirit touched you. And along your hand and arm, too, where my spell poured through you like that. Er, sorry,” he added, not very sincerely. “I can make a poultice to reduce the scarring, but it’s totally unnecessary for healing if you want the scars.”

  Sammy groaned as she forced herself up. She looked at the spot where the spirit had vanished. “Be at peace, Jasper.”

  They left the cave quickly, hoping to escape before they had to fight again. Sammy slumped against the rocky wall. “Feel like ‘m gonna fall asleep,” she murmured, fighting to keep her head up.

  “That’s fine. You’ve been drained of energy, so exhaustion is normal, and sleep will help.” He didn’t really need to say anything other than, “that’s fine,” though; she was out as soon as she stopped fighting it.

  Ian let her sleep for an hour. Some of her color had returned by the time they made their way back to the Captain. She saw them coming and stood, looking at Sammy with worry. “She’ll be fine,” Ian assured her, “She was attacked by a specter that drained her energy. She just needs sleep and food to get it back, though I think I can make a potion that can help. Assuming you have proper apothecary supplies on board. I don’t have mine with me.”

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  Sammy went to sit in the boat. Montague took off her hat and waved it towards the ship. After a moment, some of her crew noticed and went to work. Soon enough, another boat was lowered and heading towards shore.

  That taken care of, the Captain regarded Ian shrewdly. “So, y’found the treasure.”

  “It’s just an old coin,” Ian answered her icily.

  “Aye, but a coin with personal significance to an old crewman of ours.”

  “Jasper,” said Sammy sadly.

  Montague nodded. “Aye. ’Twas given to him by his first love. I’ve had dreams his soul is restless, and I’m hoping we can—”

  “He attacked us already,” Ian informed her.

  For the first time that he’d seen, Montague looked taken aback by this information. “Oh. I am sorry, Mr. Blackwing. I didn’t think he’d come for it quite that soon.”

  “If you had told me what you were after, I could have prepared a proper ritual… but destroying his manifestation will do. He’ll be unable to manifest at all for some time. That may force him to move on. Most spirits can’t maintain ties to the physical world without appearing.”

  “Well,” the Captain said with a sigh, “that’s something, then. You’ve earned your keep, Mr. Blackwing. And y’can keep the coin. I won’t be needin’ it after all. We’ll be leaving as soon as all souls are aboard.” She drew a necklace out of her shirt, a simple chain with a single pearl at the end. She touched this and then shouted, her voice magically amplified, “ALL HANDS! TO THE MISTRESS!”

  The second rowboat stopped near the shore. Two of the pirates aboard came over. They pushed Sammy’s boat out and began rowing it back to the ship while the third headed off to help unpack the campsite.

  SAMMY LEFT THE PARTY

  Soon enough she and the scruffy camp guard returned. The two of them lugged the heavy crate onto the boat. Ian tried not to grumble when he realized they expected him to wade out to the rowboat. At least Montague gave him a seat, graciously sitting on the crate herself as the two crewmen rowed them over to the ship.

  “To where are y’headed, Mr. Blackwing? You’ve gone above and beyond my request, so I s’pose I should consider ferrying you farther than Port Sapphire if y’wish.”

  “And you need me to stay aboard a few days to treat Sammy.”

  “Aye,” Montague answered with a grin, “there is that an’ all.”

  “Blackwing Manor.”

  “I’ve no idea where that is.”

  “It’s my family’s mansion!”

  “Clearly. And why d’you think I should know where that is?”

  “It’s—it’s not far from the port, though we can get a little closer by sea. The big black house on top of the—”

  “Oh! Y’mean Creepy Keep?”

  “No!”

  “So not the big house up on the cliff there?”

  “Y-yes. That one.”

  “Creepy Keep.”

  “It is called Blackwing Manor!”

  “I’ve only ever heard th’ name ‘Creepy Keep,’” said the scruffy pirate.

  “Me too,” said the other.

  “I’m well familiar with the place. Though hard to see by night, Creepy Keep is a well-known seafaring landmark by day. You should paint it brighter colors.”

  “So people stop calling it Creepy Keep?”

  “No chance of that.” The Captain smirked. “So’s we can see it better.”

  “It’s.. Blackwing Manor. Black.”

  “Sure enough.”

  At first, the journey was uneventful. Ian camped in Sammy’s quarters (and thought it best, for now, not to argue for lodgings more fitting his station, if for no other reason than there didn’t seem to be any). It was convenient for tending her wounds. On the second day of the two-day journey, however, there was an event.

  “Captain!”

  “I see her.”

  Ian ventured out when the sounds of scurrying and scuffling proved impossible to ignore. He saw a ship, painted red and with red sails, save for the black pirate flag. “Friends of yours?”

  “No. Admiral Blake, though calling himself ‘admiral’ is a bit much. His fleet only had two ships, the Ruby King and the Pearl’s Mistress.”

  “I thought this ship was the Pearl’s Mistress?”

  “Yes.”

  “So he’s your boss.”

  “He was.”

  “This ship is stolen? From a pirate?”

  “Of course. I’m a pirate, remember.”

  “Oh for—”

  “Mr. Blackwing, forgive my presumption, but I do believe you’ve run into some trouble up at Creepy Keep. The kind that got you teleported away by someone else’s magic.”

  Ian hesitated. “A mere setback! I don’t expect any difficulty reclaiming what’s mine.”

  “Well, we’ve already promised to drop you off at the nearest point on shore. If your magic can assist against Blake, I’ll personally accompany and do all in my power to ensure your return goes to your liking.”

  It wasn’t much of an offer. He did not need her help. But what was he going to do, go back to Sammy’s cabin and wait for the ship to sink? He’d have to fight if he was going to get out of this problem that the Captain had clearly caused. Besides, what if…

  “Fine,” he spat, “I accept your terms.”

  “Blake intends to retake the Mistress, so he won’t be usin’ cannons. But he has the threat of ‘em to stop us using ours. So they’ll be tryin’ to board.” She cupped her hands and shouted, “All hands! Prepare to repel boarders!” She drew her cutlass and pistol. “Stay with me, Mr. Blackwing. You and I will face Blake.”

  “Aye,” Ian answered with a smirk, “Captain.”

  MONTAGUE JOINED THE PARTY