“Maybe we’re not thinking about this the right way. Here are the facts: you borrowed our neighbor’s wagon because you claim he told you it was alright. Now Mom’s claiming he couldn’t have said so, because he died of old folk’s sickness a couple days prior. Both you and mom are convinced each other is wrong. Hmm…. maybe the old man was a ghost?”
Kaz Brekker awoke in a field. Disoriented, like he had been dunked under the water repeatedly and couldn’t quite catch a full breath. The sun was low in the sky, hot rays beating against his skin. Kaz turned, trying to place where the voice was coming from, but he was alone. The fields around him were empty, the road he stood on barren save for himself. Even so the voices continued, uncaring if he were there to hear them or not.
“I dunno. Pa doesn’t believe in ghosts,” a smaller voice echoed from his right. Tiny, warm. As if two children were talking together as they walked down the road hand in hand. It came to him, like a memory, but he couldn’t picture who was speaking. He couldn’t even remember why they were talking in the first place.
Kaz started walking, unsure of what he was supposed to do. From beside him, on his left, the first voice spoke again, “Okay, but there’s a lot of things Pa doesn’t believe in. Spirits, gods, taxes. Maybe you don’t have to believe in them for them to show up, though. I mean, it makes sense. How else could you have spoken to our neighbor if he wasn’t a ghost?”
“He was there!” The younger voice cried out indignantly, “I’m not a liar!”
“Calm down, I’m not saying you are one. But when trying to solve a mystery, every lead is worth looking into. Just because someone isn’t asking the question right now doesn’t mean it’s not worth asking later.”
The smaller voice got quiet for a moment, before asking, “Do you believe in ghosts, Jordie?”
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Chapter 4 of "The Sprit of Grief" is live now on Ao3