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Jazz had never visited the Ghost Zone before, not really. Even if you counted Amity Park being dragged in, which she didn’t, she’d never explored. She’d stared through the portal, wondering what it was like. She’d talked to Danny about it once, listening to him describe creepy, ever-changing structures, floating doors, and islands that moved in currents.
That conversation had taken place months ago, when Danny had been in a particularly sharing mood. It didn’t happen often and Jazz had more or less resigned herself to only hearing about snippets. Then, Danny had invited her on a trip to a “Winter Truce” Market along with Sam and Tucker. She’d jumped at the chance: a chance to learn about ghosts and the Ghost Zone, a chance to see sights she’d never seen before, a chance to hang out with her little brother for once. And Jazz was glad she had taken that chance.
The Winter Truce Market was a sight to behold. Booths full of trinkets and wonders spread to the very edges of the island the market was being held on. Each booth was occupied by a ghost. Some were displaying the normal things one would expect at a Holiday Market with hand carved wooden birdhouses, knit hats, and hand-thrown pottery all making appearances. Some ghosts were showing off items that were a little… less ordinary.
“Are they expecting to sell that?” Jazz asked Danny as they walked past a booth full of taxidermied spiders.
Danny laughed, his voice clear and crisp with very little of the static it usually held in ghost form. Jazz suspected it was because of the Ghost Zone’s atmosphere, but she couldn’t be sure.
“I don’t think any ghost here is expecting to sell anything, really,” he said, “Some of them are hoping to give away their work for other ghosts to give as truce gifts. Others are just showing off.” Danny shrugged. “Money is pretty localized in the zone anyway and the Truce Markets are just too big to try and make it work.”
“Really?” Jazz asked, more than a little skeptical, “Then how do the ghosts who are trying to give away their wares decide who to give them to?”
“You have to ask,” Tucker said, walking up beside her and opening up his messenger bag. It was straining on the sides, clearly stuffed to the brim with something. Jazz hadn’t asked on the way over, not wanting to get sucked into one of Tucker’s infamous get rich quick schemes or whatever the Ghost Zone equivalent would be. It looked like she might not be able to avoid it.
“You see,” Tucker continued, “All of these ghosts have infinite time on their hands and enough resources that they never have to think about bartering. They can just focus on doing what they want with their unlives unlike us poor humans. And they're very proud of what they produce, so you have to convince them that you’re going to be doing something they approve of with whatever they give you.” He pulled out his PDA with what looked like a flashlight attached to it and gestured to it with his other hand.
“Now, one of the problems with trying to convince ghosts to give you things is that a lot of them don’t speak English and a lot of Ghostspeak actually uses nonverbal core pulses to–”
“Wait, core?” Jazz interrupted.
“It’s the literal core of a ghost,” Sam interjected from where she was looking at the taxidermied spider stand, “and why Danny glows. Apparently, they also use it to speak.”
Tucker sniffed and pretended to ignore them. “Please, no more interruptions until after the presentation.” He cleared his throat. “The point is that this should allow me to actually talk to ghosts. Think of it like the Ghost Gabber 2.0, but it actually allows me to talk to ghosts instead of just identifying them and then saying ‘Fear me!’,” Tucker rolled his eyes as he said the last bit, derision clear.
“Bravo,” Sam said, voice dripping with sarcasm and clapping slowly as she finally turned to face them, “Wonderful pitch, the sharks are sure to invest.”
“To demonstrate, I’m going to go over and ask the ghost at the booth with the spider lace weaving for a shawl for my mother,” Tucker said, voice still the haughty, professional tone of his “presentation” even as he threw a heated glare Sam’s way.
“Uh, Tuck–” Danny started, but Tucker was already making his way through the crowd towards the weaver.
Danny stepped forward, but Sam stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Let him go,” she said, “He has to learn somehow.”
Danny looked hesitant, but stayed put.
“What does he need to learn exactly?” Jazz asked, “A version of the ghost gabber that actually communicates sounds pretty cool.”
Tucker had made it to the ghost in the weaving booth. As they stepped forward, Jazz realized that they truly were a weaver, a massive, partially humanoid spider with mandibles where a more humanoid ghost’s mouth would have been. She wasn’t sure if it was even possible for a ghost like this to speak English, could they even form the sounds?
“The problem is that he’s so focused on Ghostspeak and his technology that he doesn’t take into account all the other ways ghosts communicate,” Sam explained.
“Like what?”
By this point, Tucker had gotten out his Ghost Gabber 2.0 and had seemed to successfully start a conversation. At least, Jazz could hear some strange combinations of vowels and consonants drift over the crowd and the ghost’s glow seemed to be pulsing meaningfully. In turn, Tucker was making similar sounds and his flashlight was pulsing and changing color.
Sam ground her teeth. “Like the fact that a significant portion of Ghostspeak does have a verbal component. Yeah, you can’t really fully communicate without the core aspect, but you can’t really communicate without the verbal aspect either. Tucker’s accent is terrible. He barely puts any effort into it since he thinks the technology will make up for it.
“Also, ghosts have body language like any other being. Do you see how the ghost Tucker is talking to is shifting their weight and looking around?”
And, yeah, Jazz could kind of see that. It was a little harder to tell since the ghost was far more spider-like than human-like, but Jazz could definitely feel the discomfort.
Before she could say so, Sam continued, “They’re definitely confused. And I don’t blame them because there’s another very obvious way ghosts communicate that Tucker missed.”
“What’s that?” Jazz asked.
Before Sam could answer the weaving ghost let out a chittering shout and took a step forward on one of its many legs. Tucker took a step back, his lips moving quickly and his light flashing faster.
“Writing,” Sam said, now looking a bit nervous, “There’s a sign on that booth that says ‘Showcasing, not gifting’. They weren’t open to being asked.” She glanced at Danny. “I, uh, thought he would figure it out before it got to this point.”
Tucker’s light flashed in what Jazz could only interpret as a stutter and Danny winced. The ghost Tucker was talking to seemed to grow, it’s aura flaring into what Jazz could only describe as menacing.
“He, uh, also doesn’t match what he’s saying with equipment to what he’s actually feeling,” Danny said, eyes-widening. The ghost grew more, both in size and agitation.
“I need to go deal with this,” Danny said, hurriedly dashing off towards the stall.
“Is he going to be okay?” Jazz asked as her little brother put himself between Tucker and an increasingly aggravated spider-ghost.
Sam nodded, her posture slowly relaxing as Danny began to speak and the weaving ghost started to deflate. “They should be fine. Danny knows what he’s doing.” The spider-ghost shrieked something unintelligible at Danny. Sam winced. “Mostly.”
“What did your friend do to that woman to get her so angry?” A deep voice asked from behind them.
Jazz jumped. She knew that voice. That was that was the ghost that kept talking about skinning Danny and mounting his pelt on a wall. Jazz slowly turned, her entire body tense. Sure enough, the metal ghost towered behind them, his hair flaming green and flickering in the non-existent wind.
Jazz reached towards the blaster on her hip. This ghost was a hunter. He thrived on chasing prey. Most hunters didn’t like it when their prey fought back. Maybe she could–
Sam put a hand on Jazz’s arm. Jazz looked to her. Sam shook her head. “Truce, remember,” she murmured before turning her full attention to the ghost in front of them.
“He didn’t read the sign,” Sam said, casually, like they weren’t in any danger. Jazz knew the truce meant peace. She knew that ghosts didn’t attack each other during the truce; Danny had explained that much.
She and Sam weren’t ghosts.
The ghost looked befuddled. “He didn’t read the sign?” he asked, looking lost, “This is a Truce Market. You always read the sign. Otherwise…” Skulker gestured towards the commotion at the weaving ghost’s stall. Danny was… carefully crafting an ice sculpture? Since when could he do that? Were ice powers just a thing Danny had now on top of everything else?
The ghost at the stall seemed relatively pleased at least. It had shrunk down again and Tucker was no longer cowering behind Danny. The other ghosts were pointedly ignoring all of it. Jazz supposed that was probably wise. In her experience, it was harder to get drawn into a conflict you refused to acknowledge.
Sam shrugged. “He got caught up in his new tech. For a genius, he can be a complete moron.”
Skulker got a pained look on his face. At least, that was what Jazz thought it looked like through all the metal. “I am learning to relate. I drew Technus in the Truce exchange this year.”
Jazz was officially lost, but Sam just nodded. “Did you manage to find anything good?”
Skulker gave them what Jazz was sure was meant to be a grin. It had far too many teeth and technically the metal of his face didn’t bend like that, but that was all she could think of. “You’ll see at the Truce party tonight with the rest of them.” His grin dropped and he hesitated. “You are coming, right?”
Jazz blinked. What? There was no way she heard that right. Yes, this was the Ghost Zone and yes it was Christmas Eve and Danny was planning on going to a Truce party after this. But, the plan was for Jazz to go home with Sam and Tucker. The Truce wasn’t for humans… was it?
She looked at Sam. Sam had been to the Ghost Zone before. Sam had interacted with ghosts outside of fights. Sam looked as blindsided as she was.
“You know we’re human, right?” Jazz asked, really hoping she wasn’t bringing attention to something that would get them in trouble.
Skulker shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “We’ve engaged in combat. That counts for the truce.”
Jazz squinted trying to tell if he was hiding something. Also, did her flailing and getting in Danny’s way really count? It didn’t seem like it should, but the ghost seemed genuine.
And now that she thought about it, they were already at a Truce Market, was going to a Truce Party really any different? Of course, here they were surrounded by mostly neutral ghosts who just wanted to show off and give away their crafts. At the Truce Party Skulker was inviting them to, they would be surrounded by ghosts that had all gone after humans at one point or another.
“Will everyone else hold the truce with them, Skulker? Or just you?” Danny. Jazz looked over to see her brother hovering at her shoulder, arms crossed and eyes glowing bright. Tucker shifted beside him looking more than a little sheepish.
Skulker held his hands up, clearly indicating that he wasn’t looking for a fight. “Peace, Ghost Child. I assumed you brought them here for the party.”
Danny’s eyes turned icy. “That doesn’t answer my question.”
“The truce holds for all ghosts, and even the ones that these three haven’t fought know that they’re close enough to count!” Skulker seemed defensive, but it seemed like the explanation was good enough for Danny. He landed between Jazz and Sam, eyes returning to a normal green glow.
Skulker cleared his throat, despite being in a metal body suit. Jazz had no idea how that worked. “I hope to see you all at the Truce party. Rest assured, I will resume my hunt after the celebrations are over.”
Danny relaxed, glancing at Sam and Jazz. “Yeah, I’m looking forward to it.” He grinned, a glint of mischief in his eye. “I got Walker for the exchange this year and I am not missing out on giving him his gift.”
“Should I be worried?” Skulker asked, brow creasing.
Danny shrugged. “It’s Truce. I’m not going to worry about the consequences for at least a day and a half.”
“That is not reassuring, whelp.”
Danny laughed, bright and echoing, as he turned to leave. “It’ll be fine,” he said as he started to walk away, Sam and Tucker already following.
Jazz turned to follow too, before stopping. “It was nice to see you, Ghost-X,” she said, cheerfully.
Skulker sighed, looking pained. “My name is Skulker. The Ghost Child just called me Skulker. You were there.”
Jazz’s grin widened. “And when you start calling my brother by his name, I’ll call you by yours.” She turned and followed Danny before the ghost had a chance to respond.
As she rejoined the group, Sam slapped her on the back. “That was awesome!” she chuckled, “Sometimes I don’t think the ghosts around here even know Danny has a name.”
Danny shrugged. “I’m just glad he only called me whelp once.”
“By the way,” Tucker said, leaning around Danny to look him in the eye, “What did you get Walker? How bad is two-days-from-now going to be exactly?”
Danny’s smile was sharper than any human’s had a right to be. “It’s an annotated book with all of the Amity Park city laws and ordinances along with sentencing regulations.”
“Nice,” Tucker said, his own smile sharper than Jazz personally though was reasonable.
Sam chuckled, eye’s sparkling maliciously. “He’s going to hate that.”
Jazz looked between her brother and his friends, more than a little confused. The Amity Park laws and ordinances mostly concerned building permits and parking regulations. “Why is he going to hate this?” she asked.
Danny seemed almost giddy. “You remember that incident when Vlad tried to use Vortex to bolster his popularity?”
Jazz nodded. “And it went horribly and you ended up with weather powers? Yeah, I remember.” It wasn’t a fond memory, either, especially since the heatwave just reappeared as soon as the ghost was locked away again.
“Well, the city council decided to pass a law about encouraging ghosts to enter Amity Park. It also limits using ghosts to disturb the peace.” Danny said, looking smug.
Jazz raised an eyebrow. “Vlad let that pass?”
Danny shrugged again. “I think he’s going to try and use it against Dad at some point with the whole ghost portal situation, but I’m not going to worry about that for now.” Danny grinned again. “For now, I’m using it to keep Walker out of Amity Park. He can’t come in and disturb the peace, even my peace. It’s against the rules.”
“Uh huh,” Jazz said, more than a little wary “And you don’t think he’s going to try and find a way around it? Or retaliate against you here?”
Danny’s face screwed up in what Jazz knew as his “don’t bring logic into this” expression. She braced herself for what she was sure was going to be a snarky retort about the fun police.
It never came.
“Great One!” A voice called out. Jazz spun to see a massive ghost covered in course, white fur. Crystalline horns jutted out from his head in angry lines. One of his arms was made of ice with simplified bones running through the center.
That did not like a ghost she wanted to mess with. Jazz glanced to Danny, preparing to run if need be.
Danny was grinning widely and floating high to wave back at the ghost. “Frostbite!” he yelled back, pure joy in his voice.
“Great One!” the ghost repeated, “Happy Truce! It is good to see you!” He turned to Sam and Tucker. “You too, young ones, it has been too long.”
So, this was apparently a ghost that Jazz had never so much as seen that was not only on good terms with Danny, but Sam and Tucker as well. Jazz knew they spent time in the Ghost Zone, but this suggested far more than hanging out just inside the portal for shooting practice.
Danny turned to her, still grinning. “Jazz, this is Frostbite,” he introduced, “Frostbite taught me how to control my ice powers when they were on the fritz and he’s been helping me to learn more sense.” He turned back to Frostbite. “Frostbite, this is Jazz, my big sister.”
Again, there were those ice powers, the ones that Jazz hadn’t known about before today. She knew Danny had asked her to back off, that ghost hunting was his thing and she needed to respect that. Now she was wondering if she had backed off too far. She felt like she barely knew anything about his life.
“It’s an honor to meet a relative of the great one,” the ghost said. “We were lucky to be at the same Truce market today! Usually, we go to one closer to home, but the Carnivorous Canyon had drifted directly in the path and going around it actually made this market closer.”
“Really? I didn’t know it could move like that.”
“Yes. When—”
Jazz jumped as Sam slung an arm around her shoulder. “If you’re wondering why Frostbite is calling Danny ‘Great One’, it’s because of the whole Pariah Dark thing. The yetis were really thrilled that he got pushed back in his sarcophagus. It’s not anything weird.”
To Jazz, that was still pretty weird. She knew about the Pariah Dark incident and she knew that Danny took the suit, but she’d never really learned what happened afterwards. Apparently, it was impressive enough to get a bunch of yetis to call her little brother “Great One”.
Sam looked like she was about to say more, but something in Danny’s conversation with Frostbite seemed to have caught her attention because she snapped her head in their direction.
“I actually have to go to the Portal-Zone Truce party this year, but maybe Sam, Tuc–”
“I think what Danny means is that we’re all going to the Portal-Zone Truce Party tonight, but maybe next year we can make some different plans?” Sam interrupted.
Frostbite nodded, seemingly unperturbed by the sudden interruption and correction. “Next year we will make sure to invite you first then! After all, I couldn’t ask you to back out of a truce party so near to your own lair. Why don’t you come near the new year for some training? We could–”
Jazz turned towards Sam with a raised eyebrow as the conversation drifted out of her understanding again.
Sam shrugged. “Danny was being overprotective. He thought that us going to Frostbite’s Truce would somehow be safer.” She frowned and rolled her eyes. “I think he forgot that we can’t go to the Far Frozen without cold weather gear again.” Sam grinned. “Also, I am not missing out on Walker’s reaction to Danny’s ‘gift’. That’s going to be epic.”
Jazz grinned back. Yeah, there was a lot she didn’t know about her brother and his life, but spending time with him was the best way to learn. Also, Sam was right; watching Walker get a book of rules as a gift would be epic.
In the meantime, she would enjoy the Truce Market… and try not to worry about all the parts of her brother’s life that she didn’t know about.
—
They left the Truce Market after a few more hours of browsing. Tucker did end up getting his mother a scarf from a different vendor whose sign he actually read. Sam got a cool new set of spider earrings. Danny got a map that showed the stars as they were 10,000 years ago. Jazz smiled and watched and learned.
Then, there was the actual party. It was tamer than Jazz was expecting, especially considering it was being hosted in a clearing on Skulker’s island. There weren’t any insults or fights. All the ghosts came with a gift for their assigned giftee. Everyone even honored the rules for all the party games. It was altogether far more civil than she’d come to expect from ghosts.
Sam had been right about Walker's reaction to Danny’s present. He seemed both furious and impressed when Danny pointed out the laws on disturbing the peace, but was quick to point out that those were laws that Danny regularly broke himself. Danny just shrugged, not even bothering with a witty retort, which made Walker seethe and the other ghosts laugh.
Jazz also learned that there was aspects of her brother’s life she had been oblivious to.. She learned that he was stronger than she had known. He was more respected too. She learned that he knew far more about the ghosts in the zone than he let on. He knew what to say to get the Lunch Lady talking and laughing about her favorite foods. He knew how to relate to Sidney Pointdexter and push him into a conversation with Dora about dealing with new technology and ideas. He definitely knew what Johnny and Kitty’s latest fight was about and was doing his best to avoid getting drawn in.
In turn, the ghosts knew more about him than Jazz would have thought. Ember knew him well enough to give him the latest Dumpty Humpty album he’d been wanting. The Box Ghost knew him well enough to give him a model rocket box*. It was just the box, there was no rocket inside, and the Box Ghost asked for it back afterwards, but he still knew Danny well enough to know what kind of box he’d be interested in. Technus teased him about his score in Doomed . Jazz wasn’t sure how the ghost even had access to that. She was pretty sure there wasn’t any internet in the Ghost Zone.
Still, the ghosts treated him like he was one of their own, despite their constant fights around town. Jazz was pretty sure those were real and exactly as vicious as they looked. It was just… when they weren’t fighting over something, it was like they were almost friends.
Even Sam and Tucker were drawn into it. The ghosts cheered when Sam beat Skulker in a shooting contest. Tucker and Technus had talked about the Ghost Gabber 2.0 software that Tucker had tried back at the market for almost an hour. They knew these ghosts almost as well as Danny did.
It made Jazz feel… alone.
No one was purposefully excluding her, she was sure of it. She just didn’t really know anyone except for Danny, Sam, Tucker, and kinda Skulker she guessed? She wasn’t sure if accidentally letting him know where the ecto-converter was once and insulting him earlier today counted as knowing him. Probably not. So, she was at a party where she didn’t know anyone except for the people she came with and parties weren’t really her thing to begin with.
Still, this was a good thing, she thought as she watched Danny and Johnny start to set up for a race around the island. It was good to see humans and ghosts interacting without violence. It was good to see Danny having fun.
He and Johnny seemed to have some kind of banter building as they prepared. Jazz couldn’t hear it, but from the way Danny grinned, from the way Johnny was leaning casually against his bike, from the way the other ghosts were placing bets, she knew it was friendly. That was good. Danny could use more friends, more than Sam and Tucker who he was bonded to so tightly that they were closer to family. Casual friendships were good. Normal. Danny was acting like a normal teenager.
There was a thump as someone plopped down beside her. Jazz looked over expecting to see one of her more human companions. She wouldn’t have even been surprised by a friendlier ghost like Ember, Kitty, or Technus. Instead, she came face to face with Penelope Spectra.
Jazz didn’t scream. That was a good first step. This was Truce after all.
Spectra did nothing. She kept doing nothing for almost a minute. It got to the point where Jazz wondered if the ghost actually realized she was there.
“This isn’t normal, you know,” Spectra suddenly said. Her tone was completely neutral to the point where it was almost unnatural.
“What?” Jazz asked, taken aback. Surely, Spectra couldn’t have read her thoughts early. She was sure that wasn’t one of the ghost’s powers. Right?
“Sure, the Truce is mostly normal, everyone behaving themselves and keeping fights to a minimum” Spectra said, either answering Jazz’s question or ignoring her completely, “but that’s between ghosts. All this intermingling is just weird.” She said intermingling like it was something she was trying to scrape off the bottom of her shoe.
Jazz shrugged, not looking at Spectra directly. “Everyone seems to be having fun,” she said, matching Spectra’s original neutrality as they watched the party-goers cheer on the race between Danny and Johnny as it finally started.
“ Fun, ” Spectra sneered, “Oh sure, they’re all definitely having fun . Ghosts and humans aren’t supposed to have fun together.”
Jazz wanted to ask “Why not?”, but Spectra kept going before she could.
“Phantom and his two little friends are freaks. Sure, Phantom was pretty obvious from the get go, a little weirdo made in a lab accident. The other two, though? They practically chose to become freaks.”
Jazz turned to glare at Spectra, to defend Danny and his friends, but she couldn’t find the words to interrupt.
“They’ve been exposed to so much ectoplasm that they’re practically developing cores. Did you notice that translator thing? The kid doesn’t even need to use it to understand who he’s talking to, he can just understand Ghostspeak. The girl, too, I bet. I wouldn’t be surprised if they started developing powers.” She sneered again. “They’re going to end up creepy little freaks just like Phantom, isolated from their world and from ours.”
Jazz felt a wave of anger wash over her and then a wave of dread. She’d noticed that today, too, just how comfortable Sam and Tucker were with ghosts. Sam could read Ghostpeak, Tucker was trying to learn to speak it. Neither of them had so much as flinched when Skulker, a ghost that had attacked them multiple times, showed up suddenly. They were perfectly comfortable in the Ghost Zone, far more so than Jazz was. What was that going to do to them in the long run? What did it mean for a human to become ecto-contaminated?
Humans feared ghosts. It was a fact of life. A ghost tale was a synonym for a scary story. And how many times had her parents gone on about how dangerous ghosts were? What would the world do with humans that were too ghostly? She worried about her brother’s future enough, how much did she have to worry about his friends? Jazz felt like she was on the verge of panic.
Wait. That wasn’t right. Those were the worries she’d addressed them ages ago with Danny or at least about Danny. Danny was happy and healthy. He got along with people. He wasn’t rejected now any more than he was before the accident. There was no reason to think somehow Sam and Tucker would be any different. That panic was induced.
Jazz glared at Spectra. “I thought the Truce meant you wouldn’t attack me,” she seethed. Jazz did not appreciate being played like that.
Spectra laughed, shrill and cruel. “I never was able to influence you the way I should have. You and your brother were always such a pain.” She took a flask of some kind out of, well, somewhere and stared at it. “He got angry instead of depressed. I had to resort to humiliation and lying to get him where I wanted. You just shook everything off.”
Jazz remembered Spirit Week. She remembered how depressed everyone was, how angry and hurt Danny had been. She remembered finding out about his secret. She remembered him saving her after Spectra had tried to blow her up. She didn’t remember Spectra trying to manipulate her like she did the rest of the student body.
“You never tried to get to me like you did everyone else,” Jazz said, sounding more confident than she felt.
Spectra laughed again. “Of course I did. I wasn’t going to turn down a meal and you only had to be remembered as a cheerful young lady with a bright future for the school to mourn you, you didn’t actually have to be cheerful. But, you just kept brushing me off.” Her face twisted into something dark. “Then you blew away my body with that stupid peeler and everything got worse. By the time I was healed enough to return to the human world and start feeding again, everything had gotten harder.
“When I first went to Casper High, it was just you and your brother that were resistant to my influence.” Spectra took a swig of something, Jazz thought may have been the ghost-nip wine some of the other ghosts had been talking about earlier. “When I went back a year later, just about everyone in your stupid, little town could shake me off.” She made a face. “Trying to get even a little youth was so messy.”
“You turned me into a floating head,” Jazz said, trying to keep her voice level.
“Like I said, messy.” Her lips curled in disgust. “All the effort I put into that stupid, convoluted plan to regain a body and it didn’t even work.” She took another swig out of her flask.
Jazz felt little sympathy. “There has to be another way for you to get what you want, one that doesn’t involve killing teenagers,” Jazz said. For some reason, she was positive she was right.
Spectra’s nostrils flared. “Of course there is,” she said, bitter and condescending, “But misery is the way I prefer. Making teens miserable is so much easier than making them happy or inspired. Well, usually.” Her aura flared. “That town is getting so contaminated that all the humans are being ruined. Just like your parents' experiments ruined you and your brother.”
Jazz knew she should ignore that, but several pieces suddenly slotted into place. She’d been exposed to ectoplasm for as long as she could remember. She rarely went into the ghost zone, but how much did that matter when you were eating contaminated food? Spectra had barely affected her, even way back when she was just learning about her brother's secret. She wasn’t afraid of ghosts, she fought back, even if it meant she got in the way sometimes. She hadn’t run, seriously run, since Danny and their mom had taken that vacation to Florida.
And, she understood ghosts. She wasn’t fluent in Ghostspeak or even trying to learn it like Sam and Tucker, but she could feel bits and pieces. She’d been doing it all day, looking at a ghost's body language, their aura, understanding what they were feeling or if they were telling the truth even when she shouldn’t have been able to. She shouldn’t be able to read a metal face or one that looked like a spider for that matter. She shouldn’t be able to say with absolute confidence that Spectra was telling the truth, or her version of the truth, even if it was clearly manipulative. But she was confident.
The ghosts knew it, too, that they were like this. Skulker invited them for a reason. He outright said they were “close enough”. Maybe he was right.
Did Danny know?
He had to, at least to some extent. Right? Though her little brother could be pretty oblivious, so maybe not. He didn’t exactly have a lot of people to talk to outside of Sam and Tucker and it was hard to see something happening to yourself or people you were around every day.
If only Jazz knew more. More in general. More about ghosts. More about Danny. She’d pulled too far away. She’d only be trying to give him space, to recognize his autonomy, but now she didn’t know what she didn’t know. They’d agreed ghost hunting was his thing, but she’d promised to help in other ways. Had she even been doing that much? Could she? There was terror in that thought.
Jazz caught Spectra smiling into her flask. Nope. She was not playing into that. Spectra was being sneakier, grabbing at insecurities that had been nagging at her all day, but Jazz was not allowing that woman to feed on her.
Jazz breathed and thought about all the books she had read on communication. She could do this.
And, actually, that was the thing, she could deal with this. This situation was fixable. Not the ghostliness issue, Jazz was pretty sure that was something that didn’t need to be fixed, but how little she knew about her brother. She needed to change course, not reverse because she didn’t want to go back to annoying him and getting in his way. She definitely didn’t want to go back to accidentally souping him every night.
No, that wasn’t what she wanted. She needed to initiate more conversations and ask more questions. She needed to pay attention to what he was doing and ask about it. She could ask about what he was doing when he was going to the Ghost Zone. She could ask if he’d had any interesting fights. She could ask if he’d learned anything interesting. She needed to have the confidence to ask questions without worrying that Danny would take it the wrong way. She needed to push a little without pushing too far.
She could do this. It would be hard and there would probably be plenty of misunderstandings, but Jazz could do this. She was going to talk to her brother and she was going to learn about ghosts and she was going to figure out what it meant to be ghostly enough to be invited to ghost parties. She could do this.
Jazz looked towards Spectra and smiled brightly. Spectra glowered in return, obviously realizing that trying to manipulate her into panic and misery wasn’t going to work. Jazz didn’t care. The woman had given her perspective. And hope.
“Thanks, Spectra,” Jazz said, “You’ve really given me a lot to think about.”
Spectra looked ready to spit acid. “Damn Fentons,” she muttered, drinking from her flask, “You lot are all freaks.”
As she was saying that, Danny and Johnny were swooping around towards the finish-line, neck and neck. Jazz stood, craning to see. In the last few meters, Danny pulled ahead, finishing first, but barely. The crowd cheered, and Jazz cheered with them, ignoring the angry woman next to her spilling her drink.
Danny and Johnny shook hands before Johnny ruffled Danny’s hair good naturedly. Jazz smiled. This was good. Tucker and Sam were excitedly talking over each other about something, probably how cool the race was. Some of the ghosts were exchanging whatever they had been betting. This was all good.
Jazz’s smile grew. She had a lot to learn about her little brother. She had a lot to learn about herself. That was fine. She had time to do that. For now, she was going to congratulate her brother and maybe socialize a bit. She wasn’t going to learn anything if she didn’t ask.