The second day began colder than the first.
Not in temperature—the Springs kept their own warmth, a constant embrace of steam and mist. But the air felt different. Sharper. Like the valley itself was paying attention.
Derek stood at the edge of the stone circle, his staff in hand, Dr. Blackwood floating beside him. The old spirits had retreated during the night, but their presence lingered, a faint pressure at the back of his mind.
"You've called them here," Dr. Blackwood said. "Now you need to send them out."
"Send them where?"
"Away from you."
Derek frowned. "I thought the whole point was to keep them close."
"No. The whole point is to command them. And you can't command something that never leaves your shadow."
The ghost drifted toward the treeline, stoping twenty feet away. "Send me there."
"I can't."
"You can."
"I've never—"
"You've never done a lot of things. Until you did them."
