Two of the phantoms drifted closer intent on examining my new wardrobe. They seemed confused as if they couldn’t decide what to make of it. At least they weren’t killing me yet.
I had one last card to play and it required moving which was trickier than I remembered.
“All right, gents, there’s something in my bag I need to show you, so let’s all stay calm, OK?” My show of confidence seemed to work in my favour, or at least ad to the ghost’s confusion, so I forced my body into action.
I swung Crazy Steve’s backpack onto the ground and reached inside. I really didn’t like the idea of taking my attention away from the immediate threat, but if it got any more threatening, I wasn’t sure what I could do about it. I had little choice.
My numb fingers made hard work of sifting through the pack’s contents but eventually I found what I was looking for: Faircrest’s book of regulations.
I knew that the phantoms didn’t draw breath, but it did seem as though there was a collective gasp as I pulled the book free. Perhaps it was as simple as hope, but it did seem that the cold lessened slightly.
I thought back to earlier in the evening when I had stood before the guard captain’s desk with one hand on the book regulations. It had seemed a bit crazy at the time but I’d figured that whatever was lurking on the wall probably wouldn’t hurt guardsmen, so I’d given my oath: “I swear on this book that, so long as I am atop Faircrest’s wall, I ill uphold the laws of Faircrest to the best of my abilities.”
Clutching the book as though it was my only lifeline, I squared up to the phantom in front of me. “We’re on the same team”