Page 49 of Squad Ghouls

“I’d rather not,” I said, keeping to the back.

At least there was more room here than on the narrow path, and I was able to unclench a little.

Owain turned toward me and tried to coax me forward by walking backward. “Come on, I’ve got you.”

My heart stopped and I tried to tug him back. “Owain, I swear to god you need to stop doing that. You’re going to give me a heart attack!”

“I won’t stop unless you come out here,” he declared.

I glared at him for a good three seconds before I ground my teeth and un-plastered myself from the wall. Owain made a happy noise as I stepped out, like he was encouraging a puppy. I wanted to be offended, but my breath was taken away as Owain stepped aside and the whole expanse of ocean was laid out in front of me with a spectral ship as the centrepiece.

Owain encouraged me to sit down and I did, shoulder to shoulder with him, transfixed.

It was hauntingly beautiful. The type of thing that stuck with you forever as a watercolour in your mind.

The ocean was lit up with phantom lights, the ship casting green luminescence that bounced like crystals across the surface of the water. I could even spot some ghost pirates floating.

I squinted closer. “Are they floating in rubber rings?”

Owain grinned. “I gave them to them. Aren’t they fun!”

I shook my head. “Ghosts are supposed to be scary,” I said for what seemed like the hundredth time.

“You shouldn’t paint every ghost with the same brush. Just because you’ve had some bad experiences shouldn’t mean you stereotype the whole spectral community. Why shouldn’t ghosts get to float in a rubber ring just like anyone else? Being dead doesn’t mean you deserve any less.”

I looked out at the relaxed forms of the ghosts bobbing around. “I guess.”

I wondered how many other people he’d told this to and what their responses had been. Did they think he was crazy? Did they know about the psychopomp thing? I knew I couldn’t ask the latter—Bronwyn would have my guts for garters. But it did make me curious about who in Owain’s life might know.

“Do your family visit you here? Friends?” I asked.

“My friends are already here. You’ve met them.” He raised a brow.

He said it like it made all the sense in the world. Any pity I might have mistakenly felt for him seemed stupid in hindsight. Owain’s friends might be dead people, yes, but they were very real in personality and emotion. Like Owain had said; just because they didn’t have corporeal forms didn’t make them any less.

I was beginning to understand it.

“What about your family?”

He looked into the distance for a moment.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he asked, and I tried to act nonchalant when I nodded. The ghosts had made me believe he’d never tell me about being… “I don’t think my family likes me very much.”

“Wait, what?” I asked. No seriously, what? That was not what I was expecting to hear.

“I hide it well, but I’m a bit…unusual.”

I couldn’t disguise my snort. “Worst kept secret on the planet, love.”

“I was never what they expected me to be, and I keep…I keep being a disappointment to them,” Owain said.

I frowned for him, knowing the sting of thinking that. I still did most days. “Maybe they just…”

Owain shook his head. “No, they told me that. When I got this place. When I refused to sell it and they couldn’t convince me to leave. They’d call and we’d talk, but it always ended in an argument and them being disappointed. I wish I could make them understand. That I’m happy. That I love this place. That it’s the life I want to live.”

My throat closed and I swallowed against the pressure.

“I’m sure they care about you.”