Ghost Town by Phoebe Rivers Page A

lifted her arched, penciled eyebrows in surprise. This was the closest I’d come to a gesture of friendship since I’d arrived. “When I was a child, back in the Dark Ages, there were so many more colors. Browns, blues, even reds. People no longer toss bottles in the sea, I suppose. Recycling and all that.”
    â€œThat’s a good thing,” I reminded her. “Keeps the water clean.”
    â€œYes.” She took several steps backward and beganto lower herself onto the hanging double swing.
    I sucked in my breath. The spirit knitting the scarf that never grew was there. Lady Azura was about to sit on her lap! True, Lady Azura was tiny, but the spirit was old. My eyes grew wide.
    The spirit continued to knit, never dropping a stitch. Lady Azura paused, then gracefully shifted to the right, bypassing the spirit’s translucent lap and landing next to her instead. She grinned slyly at me.
    I gazed between the living and dead women. Should I say something? I had no idea what. I turned back to sorting shells.
    Lady Azura watched me silently for a while. “I am receiving an unhappy vibe from your aura.” Her voice had taken on a husky, mystical quality.
    â€œYou hardly need to be psychic for that. I don’t love it here. No offense.” Except for meeting Lily, I wished we’d never moved to this spooky shore town.
    Lady Azura breathed deeply several times. “I don’t think Stellamar is the cause,” she said quietly. Both her palms were pressed together and she seemed focused on her wrinkled fingers. “It isnot the present that brings you unhappiness. This feeling is old. Older than you.” She sighed. “We have all felt it.”
    Slowly she separated her hands, revealing the sea glass pieces in her palm. “Some things are not clear. Some things look one way and then turn out to be something else.” She pinched a pebble of pale green glass and held it up.
    â€œI don’t understand.” My voice came out in a shaky whisper.
    â€œSara, we often don’t get to choose our path. Sometimes, like with this piece of glass, we get pulled along by the current. We drift, unsure.” She fixed her steady gaze on me. “But there is always a choice. The choice to float along or the choice to change direction and swim.”
    â€œSwim?” I repeated. Of course, I knew she didn’t want me to actually swim, but what did she want me to do?
    â€œAction, my child.” She titled her face toward the sun. “I am advocating action. If you don’t like something, change it.”
    There were a lot of things I didn’t like.
    I didn’t like living here.
    I didn’t like seeing spirits.
    I didn’t like the old man’s mysterious instructions.
    I didn’t like Lady Azura speaking in riddles.
    After a moment’s hesitation, I scooped the shells and sea glass into a bag and stood. I knew how to fix the last one.
    â€œI’m ready for a change . . . of scenery,” I announced with my own sly smile. “I’m going upstairs to work on this project.” I waved, then strolled into the house.
    When I glanced back, Lady Azura’s scarlet lips were raised in an amused grin. I had a feeling that wasn’t the action she was talking about.
    A few minutes later, I stood at the bottom of the stairs, transfixed by the thick purple curtains to my right. Lady Azura’s rooms. All week I’d been feeling a pull . . . a tug . . . guiding me in there. Suddenly, it seemed extremely urgent to enter.
    I could hear Lady Azura’s muffled voice from the porch. The mailman had sauntered up and leaned against the railing, visibly happy to get out of the rain and chat for a while.
    Quietly, I stole across the foyer and slipped through the fabric. My heart pounded in my ears. I had never sneaked into anyone’s private place before.
    My eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light. The curtains were drawn. The cinnamon