“Well, Ivan the witch, shall we disturb some ghosts?”
Ivan nodded. He reached in his coat pocket and produced a glass vial about the length of one finger, and offered it to Killian.
“What’s this?” Killian held it up for closer inspection and so that the camera on his head could get a good look.
“Think of it like ghost repellant.”
“That seems like the opposite of what I want.”
“You’re asking me to poke a bunch of supernatural entities that have been clinging to this plane, probably against their will, for decades. Trust me, you want the repellant.”
“Got it.” He slipped the vial into his pocket.