Moreton Bay Fig, Convergence of Eagle, Creek & Elizabeth Streets.
The creature, following you, doesn’t take his eyes off you.
“We want to help,” you say, and try a smile.
The creature nods, the muscles in his neck shivering with exhaustion. Krissy tenses, but the revenant simply follows you, feet slapping wetly on the pavement.
You find your way to the bottom of the giant Moreton Bay fig. Although it is surrounded on all sides by city traffic, there is something very peaceful about the location. Shady and cool, the smell of earth and distant rain. The revenant has become very quiet, its nightmarish body slumped gently against the tree.
You notice a plaque on the ground and peer at it. “Look,” you say, “did you know Creek Street is named for a creek that used to run right through here.”
“That’s why he’s become so relaxed,” Jack says. “He’s a water revenant, and we’re on a waterway.”
“Are we all just gonna stand around and talk softly for a bit longer?” Krissy asks impatiently.
Her question is clipped by the sound of bells, and suddenly the revenant is all alertness again, pacing anxiously, trying to step off the kerb but bewildered by the traffic, which honks unforgivingly.
“Stop,” you say to him, and this time you’re brave enough to touch his slimy arm. “You have to listen to us. Penelope died a long time ago.”
The revenant flicks off your hand and glares at you balefully. You shudder.
“I didn’t mean to—”
At that precise moment, the creature finds a break in the traffic and starts to run.
“He’s heading straight up Creek Street, along the water line,” Krissy says.
“If he keeps going that way, he’ll end up on the train lines. Squashed!” Jack cries with horror.
“After him, then,” you say. “We need to get him to a park. A quiet place where we can finally make him understand where—and when—he is.”
Go to St. Stephen’s Cathedral Gardens: Walk down Elizabeth Street and walk up the steps to St. Stephen’s Cathedral’s gardens.