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“Stopping them first could tip off the landvaettir that an attack is coming,” Alicia mused. “But it’s going to be difficult enough trying to bind the landvaettir without having them meddling.”

Alicia paused for a moment. “I’m going to drive in with Donnelly and meet Rowan there. We’ll tackle the dark ghosts and the fire salamander so you can focus on getting rid of the landvaettir.”

Simon let out a long breath and felt a surge of relief at the offer. “I don’t know how to thank you or repay⁠—”

“Don’t worry about repaying anyone,” Alicia told him. “This counts as a public safety issue. We’re happy to help. Just tell us what time you’re doing the big magic, and we’ll meet you at the Ocean Visions ahead of time.”

“Thank you.” Simon hoped she could sense the heartfelt gratitude.

“Glad to be able to lend a hand. I’ll be looking to hear from you,” she replied.

Simon was mulling over the possibilities of what had to happen when Gabriella called.

“Simon, Archibald and I have the spells worked out. We’ll be good to go tomorrow. He’s driving up tonight.”

“That’s great.” Simon felt a sense of relief he knew was premature, but it still felt good to confirm a plan of action. He paused. “I have a question for you. I’ve been reading up on landvaettir. Could we work out a truce? It doesn’t set things on fire, and we don’t lock it up again?”

“Nope,” Gabriella replied. “It’s not the remnant of a sentient being, like the ghost of a person. It’s a primal, with basic drives to feed, rest, and protect. Even if they tore down Ocean Visions, if the entity isn’t restrained, it will attack whatever gets built there next.”

“It can’t be the only spirit like that. How come we don’t hear about things like this more often?” Simon asked, intrigued.

“You do, but we don’t call it by its right name,” Gabriella told him. “In some cases, the spirits fade over time or choose to go dormant. But think about the places you’ve heard about that have bad luck: repeated fires, floods, windstorms. Odds are, it’s not luck. It’s an angry ancient spirit.”

“I guess we’re lucky not to have more trouble, given how built-up everything is,” Simon replied.

“True. Way back in the day, when people believed in such things, they picked locations that weren’t claimed and gave the spirits their due,” Gabriella said. “There’s no turning back time, so we have to make the best of it.”

A text message buzzed, and Simon knew before he even looked that it was Sanderson letting him know that the room was ready.

“The containment room has been rebuilt,” Simon told Gabriella. “Can we do the magical protections?”

“Figured that was the next step.”

“Meet me here and we’ll go over together,” Simon suggested. “I can’t help much with the magic, but I can have your back.”

When they arrived at the Ocean Visions Hotel, tarps and protective cones still blocked off the areas damaged by fire. Sanderson had told Simon that there wasn’t any use doing repairs until the entity was bound, and it was going to take a while to work through the insurance anyhow.

“The same thing that draws the entity to this land is also why people find it so appealing,” Gabriella observed. “Some places just have that ‘special something.’”

Simon had called ahead, so Sanderson was waiting to escort them to the reconstructed room. It looked like the workers had done a good job with the restoration, at least as far as Simon could tell.

“I made sure it was rebuilt according to the instructions you sent us, in case there was something important about those little details.” Sanderson glanced nervously at Gabriella. “We did the best we could to match the original construction materials, as much as was possible after a hundred years.”

“That’s very good,” Gabriella told him. “It will make our job easier.”

Sanderson handed the key to Simon. “Keep it until you come back. I’ll make sure no one bothers you. Good luck.” His quick pace made it clear to Simon that the man was uncomfortable with the magic.

Simon unlocked the room and looked inside. Like the original space, it had no overhead lighting fixture or any electrical outlets. Simon had given Sanderson a formula for paint that repelled negative energy, and even from outside the room, he could feel it working. The space was a windowless prison, without even air vents.

“What do you need?” Simon asked.

Gabriella had brought an old-school tapestry satchel and was reverently unpacking the contents, laying them out atop a piece of linen woven with sigils. Simon could sense that both the items and the linen held their own magic. “I don’t think the entity will attack, but just in case, watch my back.”

Simon could sense spirits nearby and wondered how the escaping entity had affected them. He suspected they would welcome restraining the more aggressive presence. The ghosts didn’t try to intrude, so he did not have to send them away.

Even so, he remained on guard, worried less that the landvaettir would return than that troublesome ghosts from the hotel’s long history might see a chance to cause havoc. He had brought his own protective items and whispered prayers to keep would-be spectral intruders from bothering them.

Gabriella lit a white candle and took an embroidered pouch from the satchel. She murmured quietly as she entered the room, one of many protection litanies.