Kristof wheeled me into the room, and silence fell as every eye turned our way. Outfitted in a generic orderly’s uniform, he grumbled under his breath about the nurses being too busy to help settle me in. He steered carefully, making sure not to run through anything that should be solid. He left me in the middle of the room, and grabbed the folded bedding from the foot of the bed. With a quick conjure, he duplicated it into a ghost-world set, then began unfolding the top sheet. I sat motionless, chin on my chest, gaze downcast.

“Well, looky-looky,” chortled Ted, my headless accountant.

I lifted my head and scanned the room. I frowned over at Kristof.

“We got audio,” the teenage girl said. “But I think the video’s on the fritz.”

“Damn,” the other woman said.

“I prefer the listeners,” Ted said as he sauntered toward me. “Much more unsettling, isn’t it, honey? You can hear us, but you can’t see a damned thing.”

“Who—who’s there?” I said.

Ted leaned down to my ear. “I’m right here. Can’t you see me?”

“N—no.”

“Well, maybe that’s because you’re crazy.”

The others laughed.

“Only crazy people hear voices,” Ted whispered. “Are you crazy, honey? Lost your marbles? Not playing with a full deck? Loony as a…loony as a…”

“Jaybird,” Kris said.

They all looked over at Kristof. He shook out another sheet, and let it drift onto the bed.

“Did he…?” Ted said.

“I don’t think so,” the old man said. “Maybe he was just—”

“Jaybird,” Kris said, his back still to them. “The word you want to finish your insult is ‘jaybird.’ There are others, but that is most correct. Loony as a jaybird.”

He pivoted slowly. His eyes glowed neon blue. It was a simple glamour, but the teen girl gasped and backpedaled.

Kristof lifted his hands over his head, a rain of sparks falling from his fingertips. The ghosts stared like cavemen seeing their first eclipse. As Kris’s hands fell, the orderly’s uniform morphed into a high-collared black shirt and black pants. A final flourish, and bolts of energy leapt from his palms, rebounding off the far wall and ping-ponging through the room.

The old man ran for the door. Kris lifted one finger in a fast circle—the gesture for a barrier spell. He let me cast the actual incantation under my breath. Barrier spells were sorcerer magic, but Kris’s was less than reliable, and he knew it.

When the old man smacked into the barrier, he tottered back. The woman bolted for the nearest wall, only to hit the barrier there.

“Who are you?” Ted demanded.

“Who am I?” Kris’s voice took on a tone that had cowed many an insubordinate junior exec. “You dare to ask? You need to ask?”