There was a short uncomfortable silence, and then Erica cleared her throat.
"Well, whether or not you've been asked about it before, you still have one, right?"
"Oh, well, yes," the Banshee shrugged, perking up a little. "It's Libitina."
"Libitina? What kind of a name is that?" Mark commented, somewhat insensitively. The Banshee shot him a glance that would have made rocks burst into flames, and he shrank back. "Not that it's not a nice name. Just...unusual..."
"Eh. You can call me Libby if you want. No skin off my nose. So what are we doing?"
Erica rubbed her nose thoughtfully. "Well. I think it's the fact that you can't see how Mark is going to die that's the problem."
"So that fact that I am actually going to die, probably violently, isn't a problem at all?" Mark growled somewhat belligerently. Erica flapped her hand at him, stifling an unworthy impulse to laugh.
"Of course that's a problem, but it would be much easier to deal with if Libby here could see how you would die. It would make it, well...average, normal, I suppose."
"Another thing that's not normal is you two being able to see me. Mortals can't see me," Libby pointed out. "Not even the ones I cry for. They just hear me. Puts the wind up 'em something awful," she added with no little satisfaction. "So how come you two walk up and see me with no trouble at all?"
Erica and Mark exchanged glances; Mark's face reflected only puzzlement, while Erica's reflected a mixture of emotions: longing, sadness, faint guilt and the slightest dash of hope. She looked back at the Banshee and hugged herself absently.
"My mum...taught me to see things that are really there. Like you. Amongst...other stuff. I don't know about Mark. I somehow doubt it."
"No-one taught me anything like that," the boy himself agreed. "I have no clue why I can see you."
"Ever seen anything else wierd?" Libby probed. "You might be a natural seer."
"A seer? Don't be stupid. Things like that don't exist."
The trainee witch and the Banshee looked at him, then at each other, and shrugged.