A hollow step broke the silence.
Dark robes and an even darker conscience seemed to haunt him wherever he went, trailing each step and staring at him from the shadow. He had wandered into a strange place on the tail of a powerful sorcerer, it had been a normal case so far and it looked like the reports might have exaggerated the man's importance. From a glance the case had been completely what Billow expected; a paranormal with amateur powers that was gathering a cultist following and getting involved with several gangs to gain power. Yet, when the trail led to a cathedral in the mountains he found his hair standing on end. Something about the place was old, like the burial grounds from Ireland, it radiated with fear and misgivings of the dead. If anything Billow should have been comfortable here but he wanted to duck out, turn and run.
There must be some magic tied to this place.
Indeed, he found himself in the main hall with wide pillars and a high balcony that traced the edge of the room. The clouds parted and let fresh rays of sunlight hit the floor, he walked into the light and found that it too had gone cold. The large wooden doors shifted behind him, the sliding click of locks and iron tumbled.
Billow started and brought both hands up as if to cast some spell to ward off the feeling that kept slipping around him like old ghosts, then he found a smile at the irony. A man cursed and bound to life in death, a true wraith, was jumping and skittering at the sound of spooks and simple parlor tricks. The old king that brought this upon him would have a grand laugh if he caught wind of this, a chase after some mobster lord gone wild and turned into a horror story where the detective couldn't settle down enough to do his job.
"Enough," he brought his hands together and the hood fell from his head automatically, "Light and Darkness part, fear be vanquished. Death is the true embrace."
His eyes closed and then opened upon the end of his chant, glowing with white power that would allow him to cut through the trick. It was one he could use himself so liberation would be simple, the enemy was close by...
However, his enemy was quite hidden from view and perception in the highest parts of the arches. The odd man perched like a gargoyle and titled his head from side to side. He was a small man, the manipulative kind and not possessed of the tiniest desire for a frontal confrontation. The plan was to lure the ghost and then summon up something to keep him busy, the vinegar to his baking soda as it were. The little sorcerer had many contacts and friends but he had learned from experience that situations like this were best met with a dash of confusion and a whole lot of distraction. He would find a way to chain the ghost to this old place, it had a history not too different from his own origins but to do that he needed for Billow to be weakened and he also needed a dash of time for the mixture to settle right.
The invisible foe closed his eyes and looked out with his true sight, the third eye. He found an old name he had only heard of and met in passing a long time ago, yes he had found out that this name had grown up and learned to take some knocks so he would employ the name immediately and without permission. The man's eyes would open and the teleportation spell would take place, for he had chosen the Maestro to entertain the hair trigger ghost. Surely the sudden pull would be enough to rile the sound contortionist, with a loaded canon detective at his immediate front a fight was bound to happen.
"Don't disappoint me," the sorcerer whispered to himself and brought forth the human with a flash of light and cheap smoke.