Introduction

"Banks’s debut marks the start of a promising urban fantasy series, something like Ghostbusters with a British accent."--Publishers Weekly

Kester Lanner didn’t know what to expect when he followed his mother’s dying request to contact the mysterious Dr. Ribero, but he wasn’t expecting to find his long lost father. Nor was he expecting to join the family business: catching supernatural spirits.

Kester is intrigued despite his fear, and finds himself drawn into an ancient ghost story that will test the entire agency.He soon becomes enmeshed in a struggle with the spirit, who is so malevolent and haunting that his first real case might just be his last.

Editorial Review

No editorial review at this time.

Excerpt

Kester pressed after them, through a thicket of particularly dense foliage, trying not to sting his arms on the nettles. All the while, the crying became louder and more insistent, combined with another sound that he couldn’t quite identify. A grainy, rhythmic noise, like gravel being thrown against a wall. What was it? It sounded so familiar, yet he couldn’t quite place it. Then, as he stepped into the clearing and saw the cause of the sound, he realised instantly what it was.

“Oh my goodness, it’s raining on him,” he breathed. He tried to speak further, but the sight struck him speechless, his mouth gaping open and shut like a surprised haddock.

Standing alone in the clearing, stood a tiny creature, as perfectly formed as a china doll, though he stood no taller than an average sized dog. He, if indeed it was male, was dressed in an impossibly white gown, which glowed with the intensity of a celestial body. Initially, Kester was confused by what appeared to be a huge disc, hovering above the spirit’s head. Then he realised. It was a delicate little parasol. This ghost is carrying an umbrella! he thought incredulously, unsure whether to start laughing or tear out of the woods in horror.

The sound that he had heard was the noise of heavy raindrops falling on the ghost, and the ghost alone. All around the creature’s bare little feet, the ground had turned to thick mud. In fact, the whole clearing was virtually a bog. It was a stark contrast to the parched ground they’d walked on to get here.

“Amefurikozo,” Miss Wellbeloved said, stepping forward. “Koko ni kunasai.”

“What does that mean?” Kester whispered to Serena.

“I haven’t got the foggiest,” Serena replied. “Jennifer’s probably just learnt a few phrases of Japanese to put the spirit at ease.”

“Amefurikozo is its name,” Dr Ribero corrected. “He is a Japanese yokai. A little child spirit. You see?”

Whatever Miss Wellbeloved had said to the ghost, it appeared to have worked. The creature looked up, umbrella tilted like a halo. Two huge, black eyes, empty and knowing as a field mouse, surveyed each of them in turn. Kester couldn’t tell whether it was the result of the crying or the rain, but moisture had started to corrode the spirit’s white cheeks, melting them like candle wax.

“Koko ni kunasai,” Miss Wellbeloved repeated, gesturing to the ghost. “Koko ni kunasai.”

“What are you saying to him now?” Ribero whispered.

“I think I’m asking him to come here, in Japanese,” she replied.

“Hang on, where did you learn the phrase?” Mike asked.

Miss Wellbeloved rolled her eyes. “On the internet, like anyone else would,” she hissed. “Why?”

“Was it a proper website?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you could be saying anything to him, like ‘do you need the toilet’ or ‘your burger’s about to fall out of its bun’ or something like that, couldn’t you? If it’s not a reputable site.”

“Oh do shut up, Mike.”

Serena laughed out loud, and the spirit wailed at the noise, a mournful yowl that swept through the clearing like a bitter breeze. It held its porcelain-pale hands out to ward them off, and glided backwards over the turbulent mud.

“Oh for goodness’ sake,” Miss Wellbeloved said, glaring at them all. “Will you all please be quiet?” She edged towards the trembling ghost, who was sobbing with renewed vigour.

“What a sad creature,” Kester said, touched in spite of himself. He’d never seen such a morose, frightened sight in his life. Although its face, with its billiard ball eyes and colourless features, was horribly unnatural, its inner turmoil was so raw that it was impossible not to be moved. view abbreviated excerpt only...

Discussion Questions

• Do you think the book or Kester would be different if set in the US?

• Do you think that ghosts/spirits should be treated humanely (like Ms. Wellbeloved) or simply stuffed into a bottle (like Serena)?

• Did the book make you consider/believe in the spirit world?

• What would you have done if you were Kester and had been thrust into knowing about the spirit world?

• What would you like to see in the sequel? How would you like Kester to develop in the sequel?

Weblinks

»	Author's web site
»	Publishers Weekly Book Review
»	Publisher's Book Info

Book Club Recommendations

Recommended to book clubs by 0 of 0 members.

Member Reviews

There are no user reviews at this time.
Rate this book