Riddhima ran around her designated area, sweat clinging to her back. There were multiple fires lit around the clearing to ‘cleanse the air of negative energies.’ The chatter was deafening as hundreds of tourists, villagers and shamans assembled on placemats under an open sky for the traditional moonlight feast. The fare was nothing fancy, but was apparently purified by shamanic rituals, bringing peace and calm to whoever consumed it. Peace and calm were the last things on her mind as she hurried past other volunteers in maroon, struggling to juggle the demands of a hungry crowd.
A little ahead, twelve shamanic elders were seated in a semi-circle, seeming to meditate on rather than eat their food. Dressed in simple black wool, the men and women were all old and grim looking, their gnarly hands occasionally rising in prayer to the half moon in the sky. Their family and disciplines formed a complete circle behind them, swaying from side to side as they picked at their food.
“Please explain why you thought this was a good idea, Riddhima,” huffed a tired looking Rudra, stopping beside her to catch his breath. “No boon they grant us can make up for this slavery.” She barely managed to give him a sheepish smile before he was shooed on by one of the stern supervisors. Involving him in this service was the only way she could keep him busy enough to not notice her disappearance.
Lugging along another huge pot of dal, she cast a glance at the shaman she was to follow tonight. She looked to be the oldest, seated on a purple cushion in the semi-circle. Dressed like the others, with a grey shawl wrapped around her shoulders, she was muttering under her breath. Her cataract ridden, milky eyes looked scary in the light of the fires, the wrinkled hands trembling as she ate. She was one of four real shamans in the group of twelve, the ones connected by blood to Kabir. The other eight were decoys to distract the crowd with magical tomfoolery, while the four dispersed for the final private ritual.
She had heard that there was to be a merry dance following the feast, which was to be the highlight of the evening for the tourists. As the clock struck 12, villagers danced to frantic drumbeats, offering prayers to the moon, making sacred symbols through their dance formations. Then the fireworks in the sky kicked up a notch; the ritualistic torches lit up as the ancestral spirits were called down to walk among the living for the night. It was all going to be a grand show, designed to please the guests. The real ceremony, she mulled over in her mind, maybe was quieter and more of a respectful memorial necessitating privacy.
Nearly an hour later, the old lady got up, hacking and coughing. With her, the rest of the shamanic circle began disbanding. Riddhima followed her slowly, her legs aching after the marathon seva run. Rudra was right. They better give her one heck of a boon to make up for this.
An eerie whistling came from the woods ahead, making the surroundings look even more ominous. It would have been nice to have some company, she thought, the nip in the air raising goose bumps on her skin. She imagined doing this horror walk with Vansh at her side, taking the opportunity to grab his arm and scoot close in the cold. Of course, then she would likely freeze to death as ghosts were also cold to touch.
The old woman she was following, kept flitting out of her sight, giving her mini heart attacks at the thought of being alone in a creepy forest. Trying to speed up while making less noise was proving to be a real challenge, especially in her gown. “Shit,” she cursed as her arm brushed against a gnarly branch, making a painful gash. She felt warm liquid trailing down her arm to the ground. Ignoring the throbbing pain and blood, Riddhima dashed ahead as the woman hobbled around another corner. Seeing no one around again gave her pause. Damn that lady! Was she secretly training to be an Olympic sprinter?
She stood there in the dark silently, looking around, her heart beating hard. An owl hooted in the distance, making her jump out of her skin. The wind caressed her ankles, tossing dead leaves into the sky. A brief scent of sandalwood and smoke hung in the air before it passed. Idiot man, she cursed in her mind, even as Vansh’s scent calmed her fraught nerves. He had better not be lingering around for the ancestors to find tonight. They did not look kindly on other wandering spirits in their forest on Ardh Chandrima.
A blue light lit up in the distance, cutting across the dark night. The sound of whispers carried in the wind, the words almost audible but not quite. She stepped closer, making a space in the tangle of branches ahead of her.
The group of four shamans were huddled around a blue fire, their faces glowing eerily in the light. They held hands as they chanted, the wind shrieking through the trees. She heard footsteps behind her and turned in fright, feeling a chill pass through her. There was no one there but the footsteps continued towards the shamans. As they bowed down in prayer, the sound of whispers began through the glade, growing louder. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as fear coursed through her.
“Welcome, dearest,” said an aged man from the shaman’s circle. The fire had turned orange, burning brighter than ever. “We are honoured to have you among us again. As the moon meets its other half shroud in shadows, so do we meet our purvaj on this holy night and seek your blessings.”
Riddhima felt another chill pass through her, making her suppress a sharp gasp as it moved away. What the bloody hell? Before she could catch her breath, she was hit by another sharp cold feeling, bringing her to her knees. Whispers rose around, coming closer. It felt like a posse of spirits she could not see or hear. She shuddered on the forest floor, trying to quell the shivering. Her breath came out foggy, as she exhaled deeply, rubbing her shoulders for warmth.
Another set of footsteps moved blithely towards her. It felt like the ancestors had chosen her as their zebra crossing into the land of the living. Her teeth began clattering as a bone deep coldness descended over her being. She couldn’t take this anymore.
“Stop it!” she shouted, getting up and dashing into the glade. Ignoring the exclamations of surprise around her, she fell to her knees near the ceremonial fire, nearly crying in relief at the warmth and light on her skin.
“What is the meaning of this?!”
“Kaun hai yeh ladki?”
“How did she come through the ancestor’s gate?”
They could demand answers all they wanted. At the moment, she was too cold to care. Footsteps came nearer as she tried to quell her shivering. Instinctively, she braced for another spirit walkthrough. “Child,” a hoarse human voice spoke to her. She felt a warm shawl drop onto her and grabbed it with both hands in relief. “What are you doing here?” She looked up to see the old lady she had been following, staring down at her with her creepy milky eyes.
“Yeh toh sevika hai,” commented another woman’s voice, from behind her. “Look at her clothes. Tumko toh gaon mein hona chahiye. Idhar kya kar rahi ho?”
“Be quiet, Laxmi,” the milky eyed lady snapped. “Can’t you see she is suffering? Here, child, hold my hand. I’m Sutapa the Eldest. You will be fine.” Riddhima grabbed onto the extended hand, grateful for the kindness in her voice. Sutapa closed her eyes and chanted under her breath. She sighed in relief as warmth and comfort seeped into her bones, like that of submerging into a hot tub in the cold wintry night.
“You were touched by too many spirits tonight, child,” Sutapa explained, when she had stopped shivering. Riddhima squeezed her hand, grateful beyond words. She looked around at the other three, two men and one woman – all wearing identical expressions of annoyance. “The resulting cold could have killed you. You happened to be standing in one of the passageways from where our ancestors come to us. What were you even doing there?”
“I…” she trailed off, gazing uneasily at the others. Their disapproving faces reminded of her Head Mistress’, making her feel like an errant school girl again. Gathering her courage, she enquired in a low voice. “I wondered if any of you know about a priestess called Ahilya? Ahilya Devi? She lived a hundred years ago and-“
She trailed off as Sutapa backed away, dropping her hand like it had burned her.
Furious whispers rose in the glade, as four pairs of eyes looked down at her in horror. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you!” She lifted her arms in surrender as stray branches went flying in different directions.
“How dare you?! How dare you speak that name to us?” hissed the shaman lady called Laxmi, clutching Sutapa’s shoulder. Her dark eyes glittered dangerously. “You dare besmirch our holy ground by speaking of that traitor?!”
The wind hissed sharply past her, the rustling growing in the trees. Riddhima got to her feet unsteadily, feeling the presence of spirits growing stronger around her. She looked beseechingly at Sutapa, fear clutching her heart. Her milky eyes had hardened as they gazed at her. She felt like she was being x-rayed. “T-traitor?I don’t understand. Please, you must believe me. I really don’t understand!”
Pursing their lips, the shamans continued to stare her down. “Tell me you aren’t as ignorant as you seem, child,” Sutapa spoke finally, her voice sounding even more hoarse in anger. “Do you not know the story of Ahilya the Terrible? That witch disappeared more than a hundred years ago after practicing forbidden magic on her lover. Our ancestors caught her but paid a dire price. She broke one of the greatest magical laws, the ones that protect the land of the living from the undead. And you come here speaking her cursed name on our holy night?!”
“She was a priestess,” Riddhima uttered, defensively. The word “witch” verbalized in that tone, raised her hackles. Vansh had spoken in a different light about this woman. She only hoped he was right. “I heard that she was a devotee, whose blood was pure-“
“But what of her tainted soul?!” bellowed the shaman man, who had led the ceremony. Riddhima flinched, taking an involuntary step back. His grey eyes blazed down at her, an ominous silence descending around her. “You foolish child! She committed a dark sin, the greatest of them all. We are still paying the price for it. My mother died heartbroken over her betrayal. They were friends, you see. Ahilya and Janani – friends like sisters, who could die for each other. When she burned on the stake, my mother’s heart collapsed. It was the blackest day of our lives. Things were never the same for any of us again!”
A chill at his words ran through her. “Burned at the stake,” she repeated, shocked. Looking from one angry face to another, she tried to process the information. These people’s ancestors had burned Ahilya a hundred years ago. Her mind clambered to find the right words as bile rose up her throat. “Your ancestors burned this woman at the stake? And you are defending it? Are you all insane?”
“Enough!” the man cried, a mad rage lighting up his eyes. He raised his hands to the sky, muttering an incantation. Before Riddhima could think to run, she felt herself being rooted the spot. “You do not know the whole story. But we will show you. Oh yes, we will show you, foolish girl.”
“Daman, don’t-“Sutapa made to clutch his arm, but he shrugged her off.
“Not tonight, didi,” he gritted out. “Consider it her life lesson.”
“What the fck is wrong with you?!” Riddhima snapped, trying to move as he marched towards her. “Did you learn this strong arming from your ancestors? Is this how you treat your guests?”
Smiling menacingly, Daman gracefully placed a finger against each side of her temple. “You wanted to know so desperately. In your knowledge will be your punishment. For your insolence. Consider it our gift to you.”
“You- “Before she could come up with some choice words, a humming began in her mind, growing louder as she resisted. No no, this could not be happening. Flashes of scenes from his memories hit her at once, weaving in and out her mind. Vansh, she thought desperately. A woman’s face emerged, her light red lips parted in a derisive laugh. She was beautiful, clad in a simple white cloth, with luscious long hair plaited down her back.
Vansh, I need you. Riddhima tried to move her hand towards the pendant but Daman’s magic was making it hard.
“You betrayed us, Ahilya,” intoned a man’s voice dispassionately.
Riddhima was standing beside a huge tree, hovering above the sea of people in front of her. They were all looking towards the beautiful woman she had seen laughing earlier. Ahilya Devi.
Ahilya looked down at the crowd, hostility in her light grey eyes. She was tied against a wooden pole, straw and kindling beneath her feet. There were people clad in black, wearing a mourner’s garb. Another woman was weeping loudly nearby, trying to break free from the hold of an aged lady and a young boy.
“Hold your crazed mother tighter, Daman,” the old lady snapped at the boy. His grey eyes filled with tears as his small hands struggled to hold the weeping woman. “Janani has gone mad, defending heretics.”
“No, mother! You cannot do this to her!” the woman sobbed, pleading loudly. “I beg you. She begs you. Ahilya, plead for their forgiveness, damn you!”
“Never,” the woman called Ahilya hissed. “I do not live by your rules. My Creator knows my heart. Main kisi ke aage bheekh nahi maangungi. Not even for my life.”
The crowd booed in response as Janani’s wails grew louder. The executioner beside Ahilya banged his staff onto the ground for silence. As the noise quietened, he spoke quietly and with finality. “In your defiance and lack of remorse for breaking our sacred law, the Shamanic Coven sentences you to death! May the holy fire quell the hatred in your heart for your kind. May your spirit learn wisdom in our ancestor’s realm.”
As he lit the match, Ahilya laughed again, her visage ethereal even in her fury. “I curse you, ignorant ones!” A hush descended on the crowd at her words. “I, Ahilya Devi, curse you and your brethren to blood slavery to this vile man.” The crowd collectively gasped as she pointed towards a tall man. Riddhima could only see the back of his head. “Your children and your children’s children will remain bound by blood to Kabir’s spirit, long after he and you are dead. He will never find peace. And you…” She screamed as fire licked up her clothes, the smell of burning flesh in the air. “As you burn me today…a day will come…long after you all are no more…when fire will cleanse your souls of your righteous sins. Till that day…I curse you to suffer.” The flames reached her face, disfiguring her in front of Riddhima’s horrified eyes.
“VANSH!” Riddhima screamed, her hand finally grabbing the star sapphire at her neck. She felt herself lurching through darkness, her mind tearing free of Daman’s hold. She collapsed on soft ground, breathing hard on her back. She coughed, feeling nauseous. Ahilya’s burnt face imprinted in her mind.
The half-moon shone bright in the sky, stars twinkling innocently. Distantly she heard firecrackers going off, signaling the commencement of the celebration in the village. The sky lit up in vibrant colours, the sound of merriment twisting her insides. As she turned her face to the right, she saw the smoke from a fire in the distance, marking the place she had just escaped from.
The spell had worked. She had escaped. And Vansh was now in her place in the glade. Fck. Dread rising in her chest, she stumbled to her feet, her eyes feeling oddly heavy. Before she could take a step, the smell of sandalwood and smoke enveloped her comfortingly. Cold hands grabbed her, lifting her easily against a familiar chest. Nearly crying tears of relief, she nuzzled into his strong neck. “You came,” she managed to utter, too tired to lift her head.
“How could I not, sweetheart?” his deep voice reverberated through her. “Hush, go to sleep. No one will hurt you now.”
***
Riddhima stirred awake, her senses on alert. She was lying on her side, the cotton bedsheet clutched in her hand. It was quiet outside. The slow whirr of the fan the only sound in the room. She opened her eyes slowly. The room was dimly lit up, a sliver of moonlight shining down through the cottage’s window.
She flinched as a cool hand touched her arm. “Who’s there?!” She squeaked, scooting to the edge of the bed. As she turned back, Vansh’s amused eyes met hers, illuminated in the glow of the moonlight. “Damnit. You nearly gave me a heart attack! Must you always break the rules?!”
He chuckled softly, leaning against the headboard. “I told you, darling. You frighten too easily. Just like a rabbit.”
She threw a pillow at his head. He caught it easily, placing it comfortably behind him. “What are you even doing here?” she huffed, sitting cross legged at the edge of the bed.”Mujhe dara diya itni raat ko. Maza aata hai kya mujhe tang karke?”
“I…couldn’t stay away,” he murmured, his gaze on her becoming intense. “I had to make sure…after everything that happened-“
Her groggy brain woke up at his words. The room felt suddenly suffocating, the sound of the fan slowing to a hum. Visions flashed through her mind. The coldness of the ancestral spirits. The shaman Daman’s punishment for her insolence. The lament of his mother Janani as she watched her friend burn to death. The priestess Ahilya’s face burning. Fear shot through her veins like acid. “I was…am so scared, Vansh,” she whispered, meeting his concerned eyes. He vanished for a moment, materializing beside her, making her jump again.
“I’m sorry,” he said contritely, taking her hand in his. He bent his head towards her arm, blowing gently over the gash she had got in the forest. She shivered at the titillating sensation, watching the wound shrink to a mere scratch.
“Wow. You can do this too!” He smiled enigmatically in response, gently drawing a slow circle on her palm. It calmed her nerves, bringing the surroundings into clarity again.
“I should never have put you in this situation. I’m so sorry, Riddhima.”
“Vansh…” she spoke quietly, weighing her words. “I saw her burn. She was burned alive.”
She saw his eyes change, the dark in them becoming more pronounced. His hand on hers tightened. “What did you say?”
The wind banged one side of the window, whistling ominously through the room. His eyes bore into her, the rage and pain in them terrifying her. “Vansh…what are you doing?”
“What did you say, Riddhima?” His voice crackled like electricity, seeming to ricochet off the walls. She tried to pull her hand away, but he held it fast, his grip unrelenting. He had never looked more demonic than he did at that moment, with a queer light in his dark eyes. Her heart thudded painfully against her chest. Was he going to hurt her?
“They burned Ahilya,”she narrated quickly, her voice quivering. “I tried to ask them about her, just like we had planned. Only thing is I messed up, pissed them off and a shaman wen tbatshit crazy on me. Daman literally showed me what happened to her. He was in my mind. It was like I was there…a hundred years ago…” The glasses clattered on the table, the pictures on the walls beginning to shake. She swallowed, feeling like she was being drawn into the endless blackholes that were Vansh’s eyes. “Ahilya’s friend Janani, who was also Daman’s mother, was crying and pleading with everyone to save her, but Ahilya refused to beg for mercy. They sentenced her to death…for necromancy, I think. They said it was a forbidden magic that she practiced on her lover. That she broke their most important magical law. And Kabir…he was there…watching it happen.”
The glasses shattered to pieces on the table. “You saw him?” he hissed, his fury making the very air crackle.
“N-no. I didn’t see his face.” She nervously looked at him, trying to pull away her hand. “But Ahilya pointed to him in the crowd and took his name. She cursed everyone to be bound by blood to him. She said that…that Kabir would never find peace. That the shamans would be slaves to him for generations.”
Vansh disappeared from her side suddenly, leaving her hand free. A moment later, she heard an awful roar reverberate through the room. Clapping her hands over her ears, she stood up shaking with fear. “Vansh! Stop it! You are scaring me.” He materialized at the window, roaring in agony and rage, his body taut with tension. One of the pictures slammed to the floor, shattering glass everywhere.”Vansh! Someone will hear this!”
As he shook with rage, deafening silence descended over the room. Fury rolled off him in waves, heating up the surroundings. Glass crunched under her feet as she walked towards him warily. “Stay away from me, Riddhima,” his deep voice warned, sounding like thunder in the quiet.
“No,” she spoke softly, standing behind him. “I know you are hurting. What happened to her was tragic. The ancestors should be shamed, not celebrated. I understand that Ahilya was your friend. But it all happened a hundred years ago and-“
Before she could utter another word, Vansh gripped her shoulders, pushing her against the window. “You think,” he gritted out, his fingers digging into her skin painfully. “You think, little girl, that just because it has been a hundred years, it will hurt less to lose someone?” Her eyes were huge with fear as they gazed into his furious ones. “It is a hundred years of hell! A hundred years of reliving your best and worst memories. A hundred years of being stuck in the past while life goes on around you. Can you imagine how that feels?”
“Damnit. You are hurting me! I didn’t mean it that way.”
He let go of her shoulders, pacing the room like a caged tiger. “A week before I died, Ahilya disappeared. She was always the rebel, flitting from place to place in search of her God. I thought she eventually lived out her natural life with a husband and children. I thought she was happy…Now that I know she was burned at the fucking stake…” He stepped closer to her, the torment in his dark eyes hurting her heart. “…I want to destroy this whole fucking world.” He cornered her against the window, sliding a hand past her neck and tangling in her hair. Despite her fear and confusion, his touch ignited her from within. “Do you know how that feels?” He clenched and unclenched his fist in her hair, striving for control. She looked up at him, a familiar ache rising in her chest.
“Yes.” Just one word. She refused to say more. His expression changed to surprise. Then curiosity. He had not expected this answer. She could see he was reading her mind again, delving into her feelings, her memories, her explosive anger at losing her parents. She unabashedly let him, too tired of this façade of having it all together.
She gazed mutely up at him as understanding flashed in his eyes. His fingers began to massage her scalp gently, the touch feeling strangely erotic in the moonlit night.
She didn’t know who closed the distance first, but her body became pressed against the hard planes of his. His eyes travelled down her nose to her parted lips. Pure lust made her nipples harden at the proximity. She felt his hand trail up her gown, pushing it slowly up her body. The friction of the satin material raised goose bumps on the bare skin of her legs. He touched the back of her knee, his fingers lightly grazing the sensitive skin. Hot desire pooled between her legs, making her feel light headed. He exhaled sharply, his cool breath caressing her face. “Vansh…” she bit her lower lip, an indescribable need coursing through her. He raised his eyes to hers, his heated gaze turning possessive.
Vansh placed her thigh over his hip, leaning her against the open window. He lowered his face to hers, their breaths intermingling, mouths inches from each other’s. She felt his manhood nestle against her core, driving her mad with little gyrations. She gasped as his fingers teased the skin of her inner thigh, the heat in his eyes holding her captive. As he pressed his thumb on her vagina over her cotton panties, she moaned, blushing furiously as he watched her.
She tried to hide her face against his shoulder, but his grip in her hair held her still. His lips came tantalizingly close, teasing her with their nearness. He was taking her apart, one touch at a time.
Pushing the flimsy cloth aside, he slid a finger past her vaginal folds into her melting core. She bit back a moan, her back arching against his body. “Mmm…So responsive,” he praised huskily, withdrawing his finger and inserting it again into her wetness. He watched her amorous expressions, soft moans escaping her. “So beautiful.” His finger slid out again. He set an excruciatingly slow rhythm, nearly withdrawing completely, then going in deeper each time. Her hips bucked, greedily wanting more. Her vaginal walls clenching around his finger in need. She turned her flushed face to the side, unable to bear his piercing gaze. “Don’t hide from me, Riddhima.” He tugged on her hair as chastisement, making her meet his burning eyes. The feeling of his finger in her coupled with her name on his lips made her groan.
She was aching with desire, desperate to get closer, to kiss his lips, to bite his skin. But his body was pressing hard against hers; his strong grip in her hair making it impossible to move. His hungry eyes feasted on her expressions; his finger slowly getting coated with her juices. It was the most erotic experience she had ever had with a man.
He picked up the pace, adding another finger into her. It stretched her tighter, making her feel every little movement. She was shamelessly moaning his name now, pushing back against his finger. Trying to match his tempo. “Yes, sweetheart,” his seductive voice beckoned her. “Reach for it. I want to give it to you.” His fingers curled slightly within her, making her gasp. As his thumb pressed down on her clitoris, she went over the edge. Her grip on reality slipped as her body climaxed around his skillful fingers. He let go of her hair, pressing his hand against her mouth to muffle her screams. The world exploded in a riot of electrifying sensations for her, each more magnificent than the other.
When her mind descended to earth again, she was being lowered onto the bed. Vansh was looking down at her with a strange mix of pain and longing in his eyes. As she reached to touch him, he stepped back.
“Vansh…” she pleaded softly, a shy blush climbing up her cheeks. “I…I want to touch you too.”
“Don’t. I don’t deserve it.” His tone was flat, non-committal. His gaze on her was turning distant, the heat of earlier dissipating like it never existed. It hurt more than she had expected. He had brought her to the heights of pleasure, and yet remained unaffected himself. Fck, they hadn’t even kissed! Was this even the gentlemanly thing to do?
“You loved her,” she whispered, searching his volatile eyes. At his continued silence, irrational jealousy and wounded pride pricked her heart. Unbidden, Rudra and Sutapa’s words from earlier came to her.
“A spooky old town in ruins. Its inhabitants cursed by a coven of shamans to return to dust when a witchy member of theirs fell in love with the landlord. Something about practicing necromancy, which is considered forbidden magic.”
“This witch disappeared more than a hundred years ago after practicing forbidden magic on her lover.”
“You,” Riddhima gasped, a sudden realization making her sit up. She stared open mouthed at him.” You were the landlord. You were her lover. It was you!”
Vansh’s brows furrowed as he looked down at her. “What?”
“Oh my God, Vansh!”she raked a hand through her hair. “It was you she was practicing forbidden magic on a hundred years ago! It was you she was trying to protect. I can barely believe it. But it all makes sense now…”
“What are you going on about? What forbidden magic?”
“People say that Ahilya was caught practicing necromancy on her lover. It was the reason she was sentenced to death by the coven a hundred years ago. What if…what if she was trying to protect you from death with her magic?” Another thought came to her. “Before dying, she cursed everyone to be blood tied to Kabir. Earlier today, you mentioned that he negotiated a blood relationship with the ancestors before you died, in return for a favour. But what if Ahilya’s curse is the real reason for that blood tie? What if its Ahilya’s curse that keeps Kabir from finding peace?”
“Riddhima…” he spoke tiredly, leaning against the wall. “If you haven’t noticed, I really am dead. If she was practicing necromancy to protect me, I think I would have known by now.”
“It must not have worked in the end. But, don’t you see?!” she continued excitedly, undeterred by his visible lack of enthusiasm. “This means that its even more important to find Ahilya’s descendent. If we find her and figure out a way to break his blood ties with the shamans, Kabir will be just another ghost and you can finish your vendetta!”
Vansh gave a short mocking laugh, shaking his head. She was too distracted momentarily by his dimples to reprimand him. “I do love your passion, little Einstein. But you see…Ahilya died before I did. She was an orphan, with no family and…she died childless.” As her face fell, he stated with finality. “If it was hard to track her descendent earlier, it is now impossible. We appear to have hit a dead-end. But I will find another way to trace Kabir’s haunting grounds. I suggest you get some sleep. We have another long day ahead tomorrow.”
***