Invisible spirits

I piloted the Water Beetle back into dock, while Molly and her squadron of sharks escorted us the rest of the way in. I secured the ship, and by the time I’d gotten the last line tied off, there was a crackling sound, and the end of the dock was suddenly coated in ice. Molly stepped up out of the lake on the icy stairs she’d created, patterns of frost forming in her wet hair. She studied the city as she came, her eyes distant.
I lowered the boarding plank and shambled down to join her on the dock. “What do you see?” I asked quietly.
“Spirits,” she said. “Messengers, I think. Hundreds of them.”
“Martha Liberty,” I said. “She’s in tight with the loa. She’ll have them watching for the Fomor.”
“More than that,” she murmured. “Angels of death . . .” Molly stared sightlessly toward the city for a long moment in cat-eyed silence. Then she shivered.
“What is it?” I asked.
“We should get moving,” she said. “We need to get back to the castle.”


Battle Ground Chapter 3, Page 18