She held her hand in front of her, seeking the touch of the indistinct being. There were more flickers in the darkness, mere lines of grey, like pencil sketches on slate, drawn and disappearing rapidly. She saw the line of a shoulder, an arm, a face, never a complete body. Then there was a blur of many arms, many faces, like a crowd jostling for her attention.
“Cait, I think there's someone coming,” called Danny from behind her. “We have to go now.”
Ignoring him, she clutched the necklace her gran had given her and held the green stone to her eye.
There were so many of them. A crowd of children stood in a quiet circle around her, watching, etched there onto the night in grey lines, faintly glowing orange or amber as they moved. Their clothes were strange, like something from a history b
