Ghost of Glasgow: Immortal Stonekeeper Case Files #2 (2023) Chapter 12: Chapter 12: Come Back To Life

Read chapter 12 of Ghost of Glasgow: Immortal Stonekeeper Case Files #2 (2023) by Mercynarie on NovelPedia.

“Jonathan! Jonathan, wake up!” Jonathan opened his eyes groggily. He was back in the hotel room, and Lucy’s face was hovering uncomfortably close over his body. Jonathan’s gaze shot to her neck immediately. His heart sank. Although she appeared to be unharmed, the marking was still on her skin. “What happened?” he asked. “That’s my line. You just faded into the air for five minutes before reappearing on the ceiling. It’s a good thing the bed was under you.” “I… Hang on—” Jonathan tilted his head at the surprisingly mature-sounding woman. “Lucy? Are you back? How old are you this time?” “Nine hundred and ninety-five,” Lucy answered, before flushing red promptly. “I… I’m sorry for all that I’ve put you through. I wasn’t myself, and… Ugh , this is so embarrassing…” The man broke into a relieved smile, but confusion quickly covered it up again. “How did you regain your memories?” he asked. “Did something trigger it?” Lucy shook her head. “My memories weren’t lost; they were taken. And by a powerful magic user, no doubt. Whoever she is— and I have an inkling of who— she saw fit to return my memories for some reason.” “Baba Yaga?” “Yes, how did you know?” “She’s our most likely suspect,” Jonathan replied simply, pulling out the summoning ritual from his coat. “Angus gave me this; it’s a foolproof method to contact her. I need your help deciphering some dark magic before we can summon her.” Lucy stepped away from the book instead. Jonathan looked at her in confusion. “Something’s wrong. Look, Jonathan. You have to tell me what’s going on. I won’t help you until you let me know.” Concern was spilling over her voice. “I only remember snippets of what happened when my memories were taken, but I can recognise the magic traces around that summoning ritual. It’s remarkably similar to that woman in the hospital.” “That’s not Baba Yaga, is it?” “Definitely not. But whoever she is, her magic is closely related to that witch.” Lucy held Jonathan’s shoulders tightly. “I don’t mean to impose on you, but all this seems really dangerous. You may be bulletproof, but you’re not impervious to everything, especially magic. How much longer do you intend to do this by yourself?” Jonathan exhaled slowly. Lucy was right. And so was Anya. All his life, nothing had ever held his interest for long. He had always chalked it up to boredom or made excuses for himself that it was too difficult to continue. But buried beneath the field of rotten excuses lay the true reason behind his fickle-mindedness. Loneliness. It didn’t help that he was the type to run away from others at the slightest hint of judgment either, even if they genuinely were just trying to care for him. It also didn’t help that he naturally enjoyed the company of others, until life taught him that relationships shouldn’t be treasured if they weren’t meant to last. “You’re right, Lucy.” Jonathan nodded at his friend. “You deserve to know what happened.” ~ ~ ~ The one-eyed witch slumped against her chair, panting slightly in exhaustion. She waved her hands as though shuffling imaginary mahjong tiles, and the crystal ball in front of her ceased glowing. “Did it work? Did you contact him?” Anya asked anxiously. “Is he okay?” “His involvement with another woman almost cost him their lives,” Baba Yaga muttered. “But worry not, my magic was still strong enough to divert the spirit elsewhere just in time. I have shown him what I can. All he needs to do now is perform the summoning ritual to bring himself here.” “Why not bring yourself to him?” “That is a risk I cannot take,” the witch replied darkly. “I can only use magicked familiars to carry out my actions in your world, or I risk exposing myself to the Ghost of Glasgow.” “Why are you so afraid of her?” Anya asked. “You’re Baba Yaga, for goodness’ sake! You’re a legend, literally! What did she even do to you?” The crystal ball on the desk flickered, and a faint figure formed in it. “Allow me to tell you a story,” Baba Yaga began, setting her hands on t