"It wasn't ghosts," Lyra said stubbornly, automatically, because for so long she'd known what it was. The snap of that twig, that wasn't ghostly. The painful yank of her hair that'd been tender all the next day, that wasn't ghostly. The echo of footsteps behind them; there'd been something physical there and besides! Besides, she'd felt him, like, calling her! That, more than anything, was messing with her, the whole screwed-up urge to go back... but a terrible tendril of doubt was creeping in and she drank her next mouthful of wine uneasily. Fuck, if Little John proved her wrong was Avery ever going to take her seriously again?
Like, he was trying, she could see he was trying, throwing out new theories of what might have happened, but— Little John was shaking his head slowly at those as well.
"I don't know about spooks," Little John was frowning in thought, giving the idea some serious consideration before he spoke. "Never heard of that happening. Don't mean it couldn't, I suppose, world's full of surprises, but I've never known any of us folk to turn into ghosts." (The chance to haunt the likes of the Sheriff, though, now there was a mischief he wouldn't pass up! But that was a hypothetical conversation to be had late one night at the Fox, after the kids were long in bed, not here.) "As for others who might've come for you, no, the more I think on it, the more I doubt it. There's an honor code, among the fey; you stick to the bargains you make. Do you remember I challenged him to a duel? If I won, he was to let us both go. Well it was a long battle, over the years, but all his army witnessed its end. He lost. I don't believe any among them would dishonor our agreement."
Lyra frowned even darker. That was in the stories she'd been reading, sure enough. The faery queen honouring her agreement with Janet to give Tam Lin back if Janet held on long enough. Rumpelstiltskin honoring the deal to give up the firstborn if the queen guessed his name, even though keeping that bargain enraged him so much he tore himself in half. Lyra couldn't find it in her to doubt Little John, but that meant she had to start doubting herself. Meant that Avery might start doubting her, and he already kinda had. She shot a look toward him, her leg jittering, worrying what he was thinking about her right now.