Chapter ONE - Weebly

Ethan felt the ghost watching him, but he kept his
eyes trained on the street ahead. He wished he knew
more about this glowing figure who materialized at his
side whenever he conjured. The man was tall and lean,
with a trim beard and mustache, and close-cropped hair
that looked like it would have been white had it not
been for the shade’s reddish glow. He was always
dressed the same way: in a coat of mail and an ornate
tabard bearing the leopards of the ancient kings, like
those worn by medieval knights. Ethan guessed that he
had lived hundreds of years ago, and he assumed that
the old man was one of his mother’s forebears. All
Ethan knew for certain was that every time he spoke
the words of a spell, the ghost materialized to blend his
power with whatever source Ethan had chosen to
complete his conjuring.
The ghost couldn’t speak; at least, he had never said
anything to Ethan, although his bright eyes and bushy
eyebrows could be quite expressive. Over the years,
Ethan had taken to calling him Uncle Reginald—Reg,
for short—after one of his mother’s older brothers who
had a prickly personality.