Amadeo sits back in his chair, setting the book down in his lap. He takes a deep breath in, squeezing the arms of the chair in a white knuckled rage before throwing the book across the room and laying a string of Elvish words out that makes Anna cover her ears.

"Gods." Tyrion's worded response, picking the book up and looking it over. "Are you going to be ok, lad?"

"The Hell I will be!" Amadeo slams his fist into the cushioned arm of the chair before standing. "I can't believe this. I-I..." He slumps back into the chair, the energy seemingly drained from his body.

Hope leans down, looking him in the eyes. "What do we do now? This is your show, Amadeo."

The wizard shakes his head, rubbing the bridge of his noe and sitting up. "We need..." Taking a deep breath, he looks directly at Hope, heedless of how close their faces are to each other. "We need to go to the village council. There's three women on it who fit the appropriate age, but only one with a physical appearance far younger than she should be."

"That seems too easy." Tyrion folds his arms.

"He said his familiar acquired the book. Considering the creature in question was invisible when I went there with Rhys and Valora, I expect he sent it to gather information from the elders in secret, information he could use to blackmail them into doing anything he wanted."

"This Ondra gets worse by the second." Anna grumbles.

"He didn't used to be like that. He was a good man once. I'd wager with the right attitude from his children, he could be again. Regardless, I suspect he knew already who the book came from, and knew in turn that I would figure it out as well, so he didn't bother telling me who it belonged to."

"So we'll go to the council and...what? Just start waving the book around while shouting that we're there for the hot woman who wrote this journal?" Tyrion chuckles, and Amadeo shakes his head.

"Clearly not, as fun as it would be to see which one flees. No, I'm thinking something a little...scarier."

"Like what, lad?"

"We're going to have a chat with Mercy Warren."

****************************************

"For the record, this is a terrible idea and I'm starting to question if you really are a genius."

"Thank you for your input, Tyrion." Amadeo sits calmly in his chair as the rest of the party and his family sit around him.

"He's right, dear. This isn't safe." Ruby eyes the wizard with concern.

"We've been playing it safe for years, hiding the sins of those who came before us to pretend it's all ok if we just ignore the murderous spirit outside our doors. I'm done hiding."

"You sure you'll be alright?" Soren questions, stroking his chin in thought.

"Sure? Hardly. But I've got a feeling that this might work, so...I'm ninety percent sure."

"You really mean to do this on your own?" Kira bites her upper lip, exposing her tusks a bit.

"Well, I don't expect anyone else to get involved if they don't have to."

"Screw you, Mr. Ravenwood." Hope exits from the back room, strapping Valkyrie to her back. "I'm not letting you go all 'Only I can do this' on me. It's a ghost, not a math problem."

Amadeo chuckles, standing up as the sun dips over the horizon. "Well come on then, Mrs. Ravenwood. Let's see what this one has to say." He opens the front door and steps out, Hope closing it behind them as the cool evening air makes a mist of their breath.

The wizard stands in the middle of the road, the devilkin back to back with him.

The moon rises high. In the distance, the howl of a wolf catches Hope's attention, but Amadeo remains unperturbed. Instead, he takes a step forward. "Mercy Warren!" His voice echoes about, but there is no answer.

After several seconds of silence, Hope nudges his shoulder. "I don't think she's coming."

"She's already here." Amadeo answers, barely whispering as he stares straight ahead. A figure appears from the thickening mist. White dress stained red, torn and ripped. Black holes peer out from under chestnut bangs that flow down over pale shoulders. Clawed hands on long, gangly arms reach up, cradling the creature's face as a buzzing drone fills the air.

Amadeo steps forward again, holding up the journal. "I know what happened to you now. And I am sorry, so so sorry."

The figure peers out from between her claws, the droning whispers increasing drastically as those black holes lock onto the journal. Then comes the heavy moans, the scream of a woman long dead, the wail of torture and betrayal. And for a brief moment, the fog descends upon them, blocking all vision.

"Take my hand!" Hope calls out, and Amadeo does as instructed, still holding up the journal. "Help us find some form of justice! Let me find the one who instigated your murder! Let me help you!" His voice barely breaks the barrier of the fog, which swirls around them like a thick wind.

From beside him, there comes a whimper. Turning his head, Amadeo finds the figure of Mercy Warren. Or rather, Mercy Warren as she should have been. Eyes like crystalline water, chestnut hair wound up in a bun with curling ringlets, her dress empty of bloody stains and tears. She floats just above the ground, holding her delicate hands to her face as the fog slows to a complete stop, her cheeks wet with tears.

Hope turns to face the figure, almost jumping at her sudden appearance beside them and grabbing . But taking a moment to look her over, the devilkin is surprised to find that the woman is remarkably lovely to look upon.

Amadeo holds the journal out to the spirit. She lowers one hand to touch it, her fingers dipping right through the item. "What can I do to help?" Amadeo remains outwardly calm, despite the rapid thumping in his chest.

The spirit of Mercy Warren turns her one visible eye to him, quietly watching the wizard with a heavy dose of skepticism. "I'm serious. Tell me what I can do." He reaffirms his previous question, and the eye of the ghost looks down the road.

Her lips part, and she points toward the main thoroughfare. "Reveal the truth. Bring her to justice." The whispers begin to mount again as she redirects the accusing finger, planting it against Amadeo's chest. He shivers at the feeling, her spiritual touch like ice burrowing into his heart. "Help me find some semblance of peace, little wizard, and I will grant you a gift."

"I don't want your gift. I want you to depart from this world and find rest in the Everlight's beautiful Fields of Elysium. There you may dwell until the end of the world and beyond, safe and free for eternity." Amadeo's eyes fix on Mercy's, and the moment of silence is broken by a soft smile on her part.

"Too bad I'm a spirit. You and I could get up to such fun things."

"Too bad I'm not interested. You're a bit too old for me, and my heart...it belongs to someone else."

Hope looks between the two, and for brief moment, a hint of an unknown emotion fills her heart.

The ghost of Mercy Warren moves back, the fog returning to its normal state. "Help me, Amadeo Ravenwood." Her form dissipates into the fog, and he sighs.

"She's gone...Let's go inside. We'll figure out a plan tonight, then start tomorrow morning. I want this to be over and done with." His knees give out and he collapses, Hope grabbing his arm.

"Hey, you ok?" She asks, helping him to his feet.

"No. Honestly, it took everything I had not to tell you to run. I really thought she was gonna kill me."

"Come on. Let's get you inside, Mr. Ravenwood." The devilkin helps him hobble into the house, and there they remain as the moon arcs across the sky to the horizon, the sun rising in hot pursuit.