Captcha prompt: marina 1975

Ghosts were set free by fire, but they couldn't cross running water.

When the building had burned, Blair had been free to leave it, had called to the bewildered shade dogs to follow her as she followed the man who had come to save her, lost children all.

He walked as if he had somewhere to go, but she could sense the desperation coming off him. His sense of purpose had glowed off him like a bonfire, but doused in blood and darkness, it was flickering, the SOS of a soul in torment. Blair wanted to help him. He had tried to help her. His grief at failing was terrible. She wanted to tell him she was all right. He needed something, someone, she could tell. His sanity fluttered like wings that couldn't remember the way to a Nest. There was some something, someone, there that he wanted to run to.

Blair knew how he felt. She couldn't go home. The dogs paced in circles around her, not understanding. They whined and snuffled. They had never been out of their yard before, and the sharp scent of sea and motors at the marina unnerved them.

She couldn't follow him when he started over the bridge. She called after him, but he didn't hear. She was left on the walkway, looking down at the water, black as the ink in the mask. The dogs crowded in on each side of her and she put an arm around each one. They would have to find their own way into the light. Hopefully, the man in the mask would too.