Antonius got out of the airport like his suit was on fire. He hated flying, but, really, what choice did he have? Lamezia Terme welcomed him with its narrow streets and brightly colored buildings. If his fear of death wasn’t still so great, perhaps he would have appreciated the sight more.

He was in Italy, on another case. Recently, the spirits have pushed forward someone he wouldn’t expect. Alaric, the Visigoth chieftain who sacked Rome. And, boy, did the man like to gloat.

But, Antonius had managed to get something precious from him. The location of his hidden treasure. Or, more like, a riddle with the location.

Where the sea starts and the river ends,

Where the mountains stand proud,

My treasure is guarded.

And my warrior forever will know,

That I have not been forgotten.

The guarded part worried Antonius. Now, some people still practiced magic even in this day and age, himself included. But, back during Alaric’s time, the practice was by far more widespread.

He knew that he needed to get to the seaside, but not too far from the mountains. And, that, he needed to follow the river. Because the treasure was buried somewhere along its banks.

Now, Antonius could hear a slight nagging voice in the back of his head saying that if he just reunited people with their dead relatives, he would be having a much easier time now. That voice sounded an awful lot like his mother’s.

She liked to nag how him using his powers to find missing things, treasures, really, was a waste of talent. Antonius came from a long line of necromancers, on both the sides. His mother spoke with ghosts and gave people closure. His father spoke with ghosts and told people dirty secrets that only the dead would know.

But Antonius’s grandfather had been an adventurer by heart. He travelled all around the world and came back home to Alaska with treasure. For that, old Antonius, after whom Antonius had been named, was his grandson’s favorite relative.

Antonius wanted to be like his namesake. And he was good at it, too. Just last year, he had found the bowl of Buddha in Nepal. Granted, there was one thing with which he differentiated with from his grandfather.

While old Antonius had given away his treasures to museums, mainly ones in the country he had found the treasure in, Antonius the younger had the knack for selling the treasure on the black market.

He had a good reason for it, too. Being a necromancer was an expensive endeavor. Certain things, like polar bear liver, that was needed for ghost luring as they loved to try to eat the stuff, were expensive.

But, honestly, Antonius had plenty of money by now. So, he could always retire. However, what would he do if he did such a thing? He had no other passions apart from his relic hunting. If he quit, he would stare at the walls the entire day and lament on how boring life was.

In the taxi, Antonius felt more sure of himself. The Italian man who drove him to the hotel, T Hotel Lamezia, spoke rapid fire about his family. Antonius paid him only half a mind and hummed at all the appropriate intervals.

This case would be huge, if he managed to complete it. Alaric had sacked Rome, the eternal city. The among of treasure he could have stashed away was mind-boggling. And, if he found Alaric’s bones, he could sell them too.

Antonius turned to the side to see Alaric’s ghost sitting on the seat next to him. The old Visigoth grinned and showed Antonius his teeth. Antonius shook his head.

There was always a risk with summoning more malevolent ghosts. For one, if they had been bloodthirsty in life, there was always a chance that they would continue to be like that in death.

Antonius poured more magic into the chains of the ghost and made sure that the man was rooted in his seat. It just wouldn’t do if Alaric tried to possess the driver, or force the car off the road.

“You will never get pass the guards,” whispered the chieftain, and Antonius looked straight ahead. Ignoring him.

“And once I get off these,” Alaric rattled his chains and Antonius edged away from him. “I will sack Rome again.”

Antonius sighed. Rome was full of Roman and Italian ghosts. The possibility that they would tear Alaric a new one was a big one. The driver looked in the mirror with furrowed brows.

“You are not convinced that my wife’s lily printed dress is nice?” Antonius blinked. Had the conversation gotten to such a point?

“I…” Antonius didn’t know what to say. The question was absurd.

“Well, to be fair, I don’t think so, either,” chuckled the taxi driver, and he turned back around, and he began to speak about his wife again. Antonius tried to pay him more attention, but Alaric, who was trying to break the chains with his teeth, was rather distracting.

They made it to the hotel and Antonius paid quickly and went inside. He needed a nap, then, he would rent a car and travel down the Busento river. He had about a hundred km. to cover. And, if Alaric wasn’t lying, then he would feel the magic in the air when he neared the burial grounds.

There was a chocolate on his pillow when he entered the room, and Antonius pocketed it for later. It was always good to have chocolate on hand. Sweets acted as a stopper to the negative energy that ghosts gave off.

But, chocolate required a bit of work before eating. Antonius dropped to the floor and began doing push-ups. When he did a hundred, he jumped to his feet and stretched.

The bed called to him, and he fell on the soft mattress. There was no point in trying to go and rent a car today, when it was already five pm. That was a rip off. No, better to rent one in the morning and drive along the river the entire day.

Antonius just hoped that the river in question was the Busento and not the Crati river, of which Busento was a tributary. Because, if it was, then Antonius would have to spend months in Italy.