“What the hell?” Mac muttered.

“This city is coming alive,” Seraphia said. “Some kind of charm, maybe.”

Chills ran down my arms as I approached the end of the tunnel. Would there be people? For good measure, I withdrew a stunner potion bomb from my pack and gripped it tightly.

At the tunnel exit, I hesitated, peering out. Mac and Seraphia crowded behind me, also studying the open square at the edge of the city.

“It’s empty,” Mac murmured.

“But it’s reconstructed.” The simple, white plaster buildings rose toward the sky, gleaming under the moonlight. There was a slightly hazy look to them, as if they weren’t really here, but the entire city looked intact. Albeit slightly transparent.

“We’d have noticed this from the outside,” Mac said.

“It was definitely rubble.” Seraphia reached forward, as if hoping to feel whatever spell was on the air. “But this is what it once looked like.”

“We triggered it when we reached the middle of the entrance tunnel.” But how, I had no idea. I pressed my comms charm and spoke quietly to Eve, who I could sense above us somewhere in the sky. “Are you seeing what we’re seeing? The whole place has come alive.”

“I do, yes. Once I lost sight of you in the tunnel, a shadowy image of the old city seemed to appear. I don’t see any people, though.”

“Not even the ones we seek?” I wish I knew who or how many we were looking for.

“I can still sense them at the temple but can’t see them. It’s blocked, somehow. More than the other places in the city.”

“Which way to get there?” I asked.

“Fastest and safest is to go through the palace on your left. From there, you’ll find a path right to the temple. It will lead you through the center of the city.”

“Thanks.” I turned toward the palace, spotting the enormous wooden doors. They were painted a burnished red to match the straight lines that cut horizontally across the white plaster front.

Mac, Seraphia, and I hurried across the open square toward the palace. It was the largest building in the square, and though it was some kind of royal residence, the architecture wasn’t that much more ornate than the other buildings. I quite liked the simple, grand lines of Ugarit.

We climbed the stairs quickly, pulling open the enormous doors and slipping inside a courtyard that was open to the sky above. Beautiful wooden benches lined the walls, and the ghosts of flowering plants stood in the center.

“There are nine courtyards,” Eve spoke quietly from my comms charm. “You should pass by three of them if you go to your right. It’s the quickest way to the temple path.”

We turned right, heading into one of the large, fabulously appointed rooms. The furniture was simple but large, the gleaming wood draped in colorful fabrics that were slightly hazy. I ran my fingertips over one of them, wondering if they were really there. My hand rubbed over the smooth silk, and I nearly leapt backward, almost surprised to have felt something. I’d have thought it would have felt ghostly—whatever that felt like.

I spun to face Mac. “Are ghosts real?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Not terribly common, though.”

“But this place has them,” Seraphia said.

“How do you know?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Don’t you feel them?”

I supposed I did—a slight chill on the air. The sense of not being alone.

Were ghosts responsible for the kidnapping?

No, that was laughable. It was hard enough to believe in vampires and witches. But ghosts were incorporeal. They couldn’t orchestrate a series of international kidnappings.

A pale white figure drifted by the doorway, moving quickly. I started, then lunged toward the door, peering out into the hall.

The figure was gone.

I turned, spotting Seraphia’s wide eyes. “That was one of them.”

“Didn’t want to be seen, though,” I said. “Let’s keep moving.”

We passed through another open courtyard and several more rooms, finally coming to a large office dominated by a desk and chair. A pile of stone tablets was scattered on top.

Seraphia moved quickly toward it, raising her hand and shining a Lightstone ring on the surfaces of the etched stones. She frowned, her gaze darting as she read.

Finally, she looked up, pointing to one of the tablets. “This one is a financial document discussing the costs involved in maintaining the Temple of Anat. Specifically, the upkeep of the attendants.”

“Attendants?”

“Her most devout followers kept the Temple in good repair and were responsible for making offerings.” She pointed to another tablet. “But this is a letter complaining about the attendants. Costs were getting too high and, worse, the attendants were getting too intense. They were gaining more power amongst the populace, which they shouldn’t have been. And they seemed to be gravitating more toward Anat’s warlike side, as opposed to the peaceful side.”

“So they were throwing off the balance?” I asked.

“Seems like.” She frowned and inspected the documents more. “They were a cult, it appears. Trying to pollute the will of Anat and turn the people away from balance.”

It was amazing that there were people here thousands of years ago, and yet we were still able to read their letters.

“Get a move on, guys,” Eve said. “There’s a ghost interested in you. Keeps hovering, and I don’t know if it’s good or bad.”

“You finished?” I asked Seraphia.

“I’ve read everything.” She yanked her phone from her pocket and took some pictures of the tablets. “Let’s go.”

We left the room and headed through the next courtyard. I swore I caught sight of the ghost again, just the faintest flicker of shimmering white passing by a doorway.

It didn't feel evil, but who was I to say?

Finally, we exited the palace and followed a street toward an open plaza. Flat fronted white buildings surrounded the plaza, and I spotted the ghost disappearing into one of the smaller buildings.

I darted after it, determined to figure out what the hell it was doing. It wasn’t a threat to us, or it would have already attacked. That meant it could possibly be an ally. Even with Eve in the sky, we could use more help.

“What are you doing?” Mac hissed from behind me.

“Following him.” I darted into the little building, pulling up short at the sight of the shimmering figures all around me.

More ghosts.

They weren’t nearly as bright and distinct as the one I was tracking, but they filled the space, sitting around tables. A low hum of energy thrummed in the air, as if they were speaking to each other, but it was impossible to really hear anything.

The figure I’d been following stood behind a long counter. It was far more solid than the others, a simply dressed man in a tunic and trousers. His form was an ethereal white, nearly transparent, though his face was a bit faded, as if he were an old painting.

He didn't run, however.

I raised my hands. “We don’t want to hurt you.”

He tilted his head to the side.

“Damn.” I looked at Eve. “Does he understand me? Can you speak Cuneiform, or whatever this language is?”

“No. I don’t know what it would have sounded like.”

I turned back to the man. “Do you understand me?”

“Of course.” His voice was almost a bit garbled, as if it were passing through magic. I was pretty sure that he was speaking his language, but I was somehow able to understand it. Ghost magic, maybe.

I lowered my hands slowly. “We’re not here to hurt you.”

He frowned, reaching idly to grip a giant ladle that protruded from an enormous pot set into the counter. This had to be a restaurant of some kind, or a tavern.

“Do you own this place?” I asked, gesturing to the large space around us. The ceiling was high, with a balcony on one side and windows on the entry wall.

“I do.”

“It’s very nice. I’m Carrow Burton. Who are you?”

“I am Tarat. Why are you here?”

“We’re here about the Temple of Anat. We’re having a problem, and we think there are answers there.”

He scowled. “Are you one of the newcomers?”

“Newcomers? No. Who are they?”

“Fanatics who appeared earlier this year. They worship the goddess Anat, but not in the way they are meant to.”

“Are they modern people?” I prayed they were. It was a hell of a lot easier than figuring out how to fight ghosts or an ancient goddess.

He shrugged. “They’re not ghosts.”

“Is the Goddess Anat there?” I asked, shivering at the idea.

He shuddered. “She is not, and you’d best pray that she never is. Never. She must not rise.”

Thank fates. “She’s dangerous, then?”

I had felt it in my visions—if that really was her—but I couldn’t help asking.

“You cannot imagine.”

“Are there prisoners at the temple?” I asked.

“There are.”

Hope flared. “Really? They’re our friends. We’re here to rescue them.”

“You cannot reach them. It is impossible. The temple is fortified by the magic of the invaders. No one can pass through. Not even ghosts.”

“Who are the invaders?” I shared a frustrated glance with Mac.

“The newcomers who worship the wrong sides of Anat.” His form vibrated, frustration evident. “The balance is at risk.”

It was the exact same thing he’d said before. I’d clearly gotten all I could out of him. “Will you take us to them?”

“For a price.”

“What price?”

“Get rid of them. They have polluted the word and the will of Anat, and they disturb our peace. They are working to bring about a terrible, tragic fate, and you must stop them.”