“You know, you shouldn’t be drinking with random men in a downtown apartment complex.” Vasilis wrote on his tablet as he took Pan’s statements.

“I wasn’t drinking with a random man. I was talking to Michil’s friend Stiger. I didn’t know he was the killer. I’ve been on this case two days.” Pan stood on tiptoe and tried to see what Vasilis wrote.

He held the tablet closer. “Get out of here. This is classified case information.”

Pan moved back onto her heels. “It’s my report. I should be able to see it.”

Vasilis gave her a dirty look. Under his breath, he grumbled, “Damn arcanes. Think they’re above the law.”

Pan most certainly did not think of herself above the law. Though, she had avoided tickets in those speeding incidents.

“Detective Vasilis, don’t forget to describe how I caught the killer.” Pan smirked. “Don’t forget Adamo’s contribution. You’ve got to give credit where credit is due.” Pan stole a quick look at the screen as he relaxed his grip.

Vasilis typed on his tablet. “Yeah. Yeah.” Finally, he looked up. “You know, there’s another way to look at this. You went into a dangerous situation without a police escort and nearly got yourself killed.”

Pan gave him a stoney glare. “Are you writing that?”

Vasilis huffed and turned away. “You’re all set for now. You can go home. I’ll see you at the courthouse tomorrow.”

Pan started the long walk home. Vasilis never offered her a ride, and she wasn’t about to ask. He’d probably make her ride in the back, behind the cage. Pan imagined herself back there, peeking through, staring at his head, with mischievous intent. What else could she do to this police man and get away with? With Michil’s help almost anything.

Michil still floated at Pan’s side. “That guy’s an ass,” he said.

“Tell me about it.”

Michil got quiet. He continued to follow her. Pan didn’t shoo him away. The job was done, and Pan still had no idea how long his ghost would last. He didn’t look quite Scaldin, but he didn’t look reprehensible either. Michil wasn’t terrifying. He wasn’t normal. He was just very sad.

“Can I see others like me?” Michil asked. His awareness of his death didn’t bode well for his stickiness. Unlike some ghosts, knew he was dead. He spent a long time preparing for it in Stiger’s basement.

“Of course, you can,” Pan said.

She wasn’t all that sure. Some ghosts could see other ghosts. Some couldn’t. Pan had no one to teach her the little details. She was the only ghost seer. Well, that’s not right. I’m not really a ghost seer. I just play one on Scaldigir. 

“He’s an ass, but it’s a good thing he came by to save you.” Michil floated so much higher than Pan. In life, he only reached five-foot-eight, but in death, he towered.

“I rescued myself,” Pan said. “I would have gotten away all on my own.”

She probably would have. Stiger hadn’t gotten up after she hamstringed him and kicked him in the balls.

“You can see and talk to me, but in every other way, you’re just a girl – pretty helpless.”

Pan didn’t respond. Michil’s words were true enough. She’d never received combat training and had limited self-defense skills. Scaldin liked to get their arcanes working and that meant minimal education. Only the things that would help her as a ghost seer were taught to her.

I wish I’d found a telekinetic first. Common power, but I wouldn’t have minded. 

Arcanes could have rare or common powers. Common powers – like healing, telekinesis, fire and ice control – came to a wealth of individuals. Those powers made their bearers strong. They landed them in combat, viral outbreaks, and other exciting places.

Unique powers posed a problem. They could be anything. There were no mentors to teach the powers, or usually, none alive. Unique arcanes left diaries for anyone that might follow. Pan didn’t have a diary. The only ghost seer she knew had been laying in a hospital bed, about to die, offering up her power, unbeknowest to anyone but Pan.

Pan wasn’t a ghost seer. She didn’t have one power. She had three: one she’d been born with, and two she stole.

Pan was a reaper. She could take a power from a dead arcane. Other Scaldin would declare her a demon incarnate, but Pan didn’t think she was so bad. She’d taken her extra powers from people who were about to die anyway. She didn’t even use the telekinesis because she had to play the role of a ghost seer. She couldn’t let the others know she was a reaper.

Reapers terrified other Scaldin and for good reason. The reapers of history had special strategies for collecting powers. One reaper preferred murder, and another waited around the dying or those in danger, like a scavenger bird.

Pan was the best of their ilk. Unfortunately, she was alone. Pan was not unique, but she was the only contemporary reaper, the last one left. And, no one must know it.

Michil stopped. “A man.”

“What?” Pan looked up the street.

A man approached. He possessed the grey skin of all Scaldin, so he wasn’t dead. He also had inky black hair, a common trait among many, though grey hair was just as common. He was just a smidgen above five-ten, and he had soft, gentle features. His black hair was cut long enough to brush over his forehead. In his hand, he carried a staff.

Pan couldn’t see all of those details at her distance, but she knew the man. “Sotir.”

“Who?” Michil asked.

“Fortune Teller. Looks into the past and present,” Pan said. “He’s an arcane. I know him.”

“Oh, I thought you might get killed tonight after all.” Michil drooped and floated almost at Pan’s level.

She narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The sound of metal on stone greeted Pan. Sotir’s staff tapped the pavement near her.

“Do you have a friend tonight?” Sotir asked.

Pan gave Sotir a subtle smile. She gestured to the ghost that Sotir couldn’t see. “Yes. Sotir, meet Murder Victim Michil.”

“I don’t like my new title,” Michil complained.

“My condolences.” Sotir bowed his head. “I hope you don’t mind that I came out to meet you.” Sotir raised his gaze to Pan’s.

“Why would I mind?”

“Well…I was just looking through the pasts and presents of our peers, and…I happened to come upon yours.” Sotir avoided her eyes but only for a moment. “You had a dangerous night.”

Pan smirked, but she hid it. Sotir did not just happen to come upon her night. He liked to look at her past and future…and present. Once in a while, he slipped up and asked her about something she’d done alone. Pan didn’t mind to be the object of his studies as long as he didn’t look at two very specific events in her past.

If she had his power, she would do a lot worse with it. She’d sniff out the secrets of other arcanes and the average Scaldin. She’d send her supernatural vision over the streets, maybe find some lost wallets and empty their contents. Of course, she didn’t love the idea of having her vision hijacked by…well, visions.

Pan’s smirk fell from her face. She raised concerned eyes to his. “Oh, Sotir. I’ve been treated so rough. So rough.” Pan drew close to him and put a hand on his arm.

Sotir tried not to smile. “I agree. Someone tried to murder you.”

“That’s not all,” Pan said, with mock distress. “Detective Vasilis didn’t appreciate my contribution to the case.” She also tried to keep a straight face.

Sotir grinned. “Should I walk you back tonight? Perhaps, look into Vasilis’ future and neglect to warn him of a misstep yet to come?”

Pan cocked her head. “Neglect to warn him?” Pan shook her head. “Sotir, if I had your power, I would create an elaborate trap for Vasilis to embarrass him in front of the other officers. I’d line up a series of events, like a maze for a marble, and they would all lead to Vasilis with his pants down in the middle of the courthouse.”

Sotir took her arm and started to walk her home. “That would take a lot of work to set up. More than it’s worth.”

Pan tsked.

Michil floated on her other side. “I thought arcanes were supposed to marry out.”

Pan felt her collar bone and cheeks warm. “There’s nothing going on here.”

“Hmmm?” Sotir asked.

“Ghost,” Pan said.

“Oh.” Sotir looked ahead and seemed to keep his prying power out of Pan’s business. Even with his power, he couldn’t see the ghosts, just vague forms, hovering around Pan.

Michil shrugged. His shoulders reached well above his head, and dust fluttered around him when he brought them back down. “You just seem…flirty.”

“Who asked you?” Pan glared. “This is normal.”

Michil nodded. “If you say so.”

“I do.”

“What is the other half of this conversation?” Sotir asked.

“It’s nothing. Don’t look. Don’t try to know.”

“Okay.”

Sotir and Pan walked in silence. The Arcane’s Complex came into view. The series of large buildings loomed over the trees. Unlike most of the twenty-something arcanes, Pan and Sotir had yet to move out of the complex. Or, Sotir had yet to move out. Pan had moved out and then been forced to move back in, after her roommate became a space-faring aura reader.

Aria. Pan thought the name with some annoyance but more affection.

Sotir broke the silence. “While I was sneaking a peek at your little corner of Scaldigir, I came across something that might interest you.”

Pan stiffened. Oh no, he’s finally done it. He’s finally looked too far, beyond Pan in nightie, beyond bathing Pan. He knows.

“You may want to visit the shuttle stop tomorrow at the start of the tenth hour.”

“Oh?” Pan turned narrow eyes to Sotir.

He smiled back. “Aria is getting dropped off then…”

Pan broke from his arm. “Aria! Aria’s coming back!” Pan hurried forward.

“Tomorrow,” Sotir called. “Didn’t you hear me say tomorrow?”

Pan walked back and took his arm again. “Yes, sorry.” She bowed her head and watched the ground as they resumed their walk.

“Now that Aria is here, you’ll forget about me,” Sotir said softly.

Pan stopped. She tried to catch his eyes and waited till she did. “No, I won’t.”

Sotir met her eyes for a long time. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Sotir and she been filling each other’s time for the past six months. Pan wasn’t likely to abandon him just for Aria’s arrival home. After all, Sotir rarely traveled, and Aria was gone all the time. The lonely part of Pan urged her to choose Sotir, but she didn’t have to make a choice. She could make time for both of them. Often, she had nothing but time. Her days were never filled, only her nights. She lost a little time to sleeping in, but because of her odd hours, her power seemed to be in little demand.

“Here we are.” Sotir stopped under a Dipinta tree.

The short-trunk exploded into a canopy of tight branches above their heads. Although they couldn’t see, its roots did the same beneath their feet. Spring lights twinkled in the canopy.

Sotir spun his staff in his hands, anchoring it in the dirt.

Pan glanced at the Arcane’s Complex.

It was dark, surrounded by a nice lawn, pathways through a modest garden, and a few Dipinta trees to serve as representation of Scaldigir’s Mother Tree. The city pressed in on every side. Pittura was only one of three cities, but it was a big one. Pan hated the urban lifestyle, but as an arcane, she had to live it, especially as a ghost seer. She was indebted to the Complex’s little oasis.

“Pan.” Sotir looked at his feet. “There’s a nice place on the edge of the business district. Two-bedroom apartment for rent. You could walk to that art shop you like.” Sotir raised his eyes. “We could split the rent.”

Pan startled. “Rent? I thought you liked saving money. Why else would a twenty-six-year-old man live in a building reserved for aging mentors and teenaged Arcanes?”

Sotir nodded and smiled. “Why does a twenty-four-year-old woman live there? I do like to save money, but I’ve saved up a fair amount. And, the elder arcanes finally went a little lax on that rule about me playing the markets. I plan to exercise it to the fullest.”

Pan pet his arm. “Oooo, you’re wealthy.”

Sotir smiled and shook his head. “Not yet.”

Pan considered living with Sotir. She wouldn’t mind it. Some arcanes choose roommates of the opposite sex. Mentors bristled at the choice, but they never forbid it. Some arcanes chose roommates of the same sex and though it was the same vibe, they didn’t receive the same lecture.

Arcanes operated under the expectation that they would marry their powers out. Rumors abounded why, including one that suggested two arcanes would produce mutant children. Pan didn’t see how that could be. Maybe, two arcanes would produce a being that had two powers instead of one. That could be a plus. Maybe, two arcanes would produce a…reaper.

Pan’s grin fell off her face. “We can’t do that.”

“Okay,” Sotir agreed, with bowed head.

Pan shifted under the tree. She made no move to leave.

Sotir gently touched her arm. “Pan, I look into your past, and I notice aside from work, you don’t socialize much. I see you in your room alone, drawing scary pictures. You don’t look very happy.”

Pan raised a hand. She remembered a recent time that she levitated something in her room, when she thought she was all alone. “Don’t. Don’t look at me in my room, please.” She meant it this time.

“I won’t, if it bothers you.” Sotir knit his brow. “I thought you said you didn’t really care...”

Pan looked him in the eyes. “I care now.”

Sotir nodded once. “I promise not to look.” He took a deep breath. “So, that’s a no to the rental?”

“That’s a no,” Pan agreed.

Sotir started for the men’s building. “Your ghost friend can walk you the rest of the way.”

Pan looked for Michil. “He’s gone.”

Sotir stopped and looked back.

“Most go eventually,” she said.

Sotir nodded and resumed his walk.