Lucy was sitting at her desk when the phone rang.

"I'VE GOT IT!" Holly screamed from upstairs. She had been their assistant for months now, yet she still felt the need to assert that things like answering the phone and scheduling cases was her job. It drove Lucy crazy.

"Yeah, we know you've got it," she muttered under her breath as she lazily doodled on a scrap piece of paper. "It's your job."

"Be nice," George chided as he crossed out a couple lines of the notes he'd been taking. His desk was littered with books and sweets wrappers. "She's just trying to help."

"You're telling me to be nice?" Lucy asked incredulously. "That's rich."

"Yeah, well," George sputtered, face turning a particularly funny shade of red. "She's organized. And she brings us tea when we're working."

"Mhmm." Lucy wasn't impressed. "You just think she's cute."

"I never-"

Before he could defend himself, however, Holly was skipping down the stairs, holding a sticky-note covered in her tiny, tidy handwriting. "Where's Mr. Lockwood?" She asked, pausing on a step when she realized it was only Lucy and George in the room.

"In his room, I reckon," George said. "It's only noon."

Holly let out a squeaky giggle. Lucy's jaw clenched. "Alright, I'll go wake him up."

"Who was calling?" Lucy asked. "Was it a client?"

"No, ma'am," Holly said, and her politeness made Lucy want to chuck a book at her face. "It was a Mr. Sykes looking for Mr. Lockwood."

Lucy raised an eyebrow. "I know that name…" She murmured, mostly to herself. Beside her, George visibly stiffened.

"What's he want?" He asked, and there was a cold seriousness to his tone.

"He wouldn't say," Holly said, unaffected by George's sudden change in temperament. "He just left his number for Mr. Lockwood."

"Who did?" Lockwood appeared at the top of the stairs, running a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. Holly turned, skirt swishing cheerfully.

"Gravedigger," George answered just as Holly opened her mouth to speak. She looked confused, but nodded all the same.

"Gravedigger?" Lockwood asked, voice quieter. "He called?"

"Yes," Holly said, holding out the sticky-note. "Mr. Sykes left his number for you."

Wordlessly, Lockwood took the paper and stared at it gravely, as if it held some life-threatening diagnosis. "I...I'll be upstairs," he said, then turned and left unceremoniously. Lucy and George exchanged a look.

"So, who wants tea?" Holly asked with a cheerful grin. George's hand shot up; Lucy rolled her eyes.

It was nearly an hour before Lockwood came back downstairs. He looked confused, but not as upset as Lucy had been anticipating. She didn't know much about Gravedigger Sykes, except that he had once been Lockwood's mentor, but she was certain by George's reaction that they had not parted on good terms.

"So, about that call," Lockwood perched on the edge of Lucy's desk. "Oh, thank you," he said as Holly handed him a cup of tea. "Gravedigger wants us to go to Edinburgh - he says he needs our help with a few cases he's picked up."

Lucy's eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

George took a noisy sip of his tea, eyeing Lockwood carefully. "And...are we?"

Lockwood nodded slowly. "I would like to, I think. But we're a team, and we should make the decision as a team."

"I've never been that far north!" Holly piped in, grinning widely. "We should go!"

"Who's this we-?" Lucy started asking, but George elbowed her in the ribs.

"Let's go," George said. "Edinburgh has a fascinating paranormal history."

Lucy's jaw tightened. She hadn't been north of Sheffield since leaving home, and last she'd heard her eldest sister, Joan, had moved up to Scotland - Edinburgh or Glasgow, she wasn't sure - with her husband and children. The idea of being that close to one of her sisters made her mouth dry with fear and longing. But then there was the prospect of meeting someone from Lockwood's past, and she knew she'd made her decision.

"I guess it would be nice to get away," she finally said. "I say we go for it."

Lockwood smiled softly and nodded, mostly to himself. "Alright, yes, okay, I'll let him know."

"What…" George paused, trying to better phrase his sentence. "Do you know anything about the cases he needs help with?"

Lockwood grinned. "Not much," he said. "But he said one has to do with a new section of the Edinburgh vaults that's been discovered."

"What?" George gasped, face lighting up. "No, you're joking."

"What're the Edinburgh vaults?" Holly asked, looking between the two boys. "Are they famous?"

"Sort of," Lucy said with a sigh. "Amongst agents, mostly. They're these big rooms underneath part of the city, were considered haunted even before the Problem. Supposedly they've been impossible to completely neutralize, and that some very vicious Visitors live there." She grimaced. "An uncovered section would explain all the activity, and would potentially hold some very potent Sources."

"And they've asked Gravedigger to help," Lockwood said with boyish excitement. "And he's asked us to help!"

"Wow," George breathed. He took off his glasses, rubbing them absently on his shirt. "The vaults. It's like Christmas come early."

They packed that evening and went out the next morning on the earliest train to Edinburgh. George spent most of the trip talking Holly's ear off, telling her about all of the most famous hauntings in the city, as well as the prestigious parapsychology college at the uni there. Lockwood was restless, flipping through his gossip rags without really looking at anything. Lucy tried to sleep, but as the scenery outside grew more and more familiar, she felt too anxious to do anything but watch as the hills rolled by.

"You okay?" Lockwood asked when they were parked at the station in Carlisle.

"I should be asking you that," Lucy said with a worried smile. "You never talk about Gravedigger much."

Lockwood shrugged. "There's not much to say. He took me in when Emily and my parents died - back when he lived in London - and trained me to be an agent. We had a falling out, he moved north, and I started Lockwood & Co. Now he needs my help, and maybe we can reconcile."

"That would be nice," Lucy said. "If you two could make up."

"Yeah…" Lockwood gazed out the window wistfully. "Have you ever been to Edinburgh?" He asked, putting on a more cheerful tone.

"Once, when I was little," Lucy said. "I used to have an Aunt who lived there, I spent a week in the summer when I was six with her and Mary."

"Mary?"

"My sister - er, the second youngest, after me," Lucy clarified. "She was my best friend growing up." But she's not anymore, was left hanging in the air.

"I used to visit every summer with my family," Lockwood said, a fond smile on his face. "Get away for a while, attend some of the festivals going on. Mum was from Inverness, so we'd always take a trip up into the Highlands. Emily and I would argue about the existence of the Loch Ness Monster, Mum would teach us all the pronunciations for the Gaelic road signs, Dad would insist on letting us have sips of his whisky in the evenings." He sighed, looking down at his hands. "Those trips were the most carefree times of our lives."

Lockwood hadn't shared this much about his family since he'd revealed Emily's ghost to her and George all those months ago. All Lucy really knew was that his sister and his parents were dead, their deaths were somehow his fault, and that his parents had been world-renowned paranormal researchers. She had surmised that his father had come from a wealthy London family of Indonesian descent, and that he and Mrs. Lockwood did much of their research in Indonesia and the surrounding countries. Now she knew Mrs. Lockwood had been Scottish, and that at one point the Lockwood family had been happy. It wasn't much, but Lucy still felt she understppd her friend and boss a little better.

"And what did you decide?" Lucy asked after moment. "About the Loch Ness Monster?"

Lockwood flashed her a bright smile. "That it was actually a Visitor, trapped in the form of a great monster."

Lucy laughed, and the train began moving again. All the tension that had lingered between her shoulder blades dissipated, and she found herself at last getting excited for their trip.

As they ascended the steps of Waverly Station, Lucy felt as if she were a wee girl again, clinging to her sister's hand as they waited for Aunt Kathleen to pick them up. People bustled past them: ladies holding shopping bags from high-end stores, volunteers passing out pamphlets for their charities, young students in their uniforms pointing excitedly at the rapier hanging off Lockwood's belt.

Edinburgh had an ancient feeling to it that London lacked. Old men in tweed jackets stood on the stoops of medieval pubs, smoking their pipes. In the distant, the Castle stood on a high peak, overlooking the city. The cobblestoned roads looked dangerous, frankly, as if they'd crumble into dust at any second. It was no wonder it was so haunted; it was a place frozen in time.

Holly bounded up beside Lucy, oddly bouncy for someone carrying so much equipment. "Oh, gosh, look at it all! What a neat place! Don't you think it's a neat place? It is such a neat place."

"You haven't seen anything beyond the train station," Lucy said grumpily.

"I know but look at it!" Holly said. "Look at those shops! And there's the castle! And that view!" Holly skipped up the road, peering out across the valley to Old Town. "It's like a movie!"

"Indeed, it does have a magical quality to it," a man said, sidling up next to the girls. "Especially at night, though few people see that these days."

Lucy looked up at the stranger. He was tall and thin, with long, stringy hair, once jet black, now peppered with white. His gaunt face was shadowed by stubble, and bright blue eyes shone out of dark sockets. He was the closest thing to a Visitor a living person could get, and Lucy immediately knew who he was.

"Mr. Sykes," she said, holding out her hand. He looked amused, but shook it anyway. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm Lucy Carlyle." She stuck out her chin, trying to look as professional as an awkwardly tall, poofy-haired fifteen-year-old girl could.

"An honor, Ms. Carlyle," he said with a faint smile. He then offered his hand to Holly, who shook it vigorously. "You must be Ms. Munro, the charming lady I talked to on the phone."

"Yessir, Holly Munro, Head Coordinating Assistant at the prestigious London agency, Lockwood & Co.," she said proudly.

"A pleasure," he said, seemingly unfazed by her exuberance. Someone behind Lucy cleared his throat, and she turned to see George and Lockwood.

"Ah," Gravedigger said, looking a bit shaken. "Anthony."

"Digger," Lockwood said, barely containing his trepidation. "You look...old."

Digger smirked. "And you look like you haven't bought a new suit since you were ten."

Lockwood cleared his throat, the tips of his ears reddening. "Well, there isn't much time to shop when you're running a prestigious agency, now is there?"

"I suppose not." Digger gave one last look at Lockwood, almost fond, then turned to George. "Ah, Cubbins. Staying out of trouble?"

"With these two around?" George motioned between Lockwood and Lucy. "Hardly."

"Well, let me hail a cab, and we can get you all settled at my flat before we discuss the cases."

"That sounds great," Lockwood said, walking ahead with Digger.

George followed after them, saying, "Y'know, Sykes, I've had some ideas about the Vaults…"

Lucy and Holly exchanged an amused look, then burst out giggling. Lucy looked up at the cloudy sky and smiled; perhaps this trip would be good for all of them.

"I can't believe you asked Flo Bones to housesit for you. Honestly, Anthony, that girl's a menace," Digger said with exasperation when they reached his flat. It was in a surprisingly nice part of town, with rows of neat, white buildings all squashed up together. Between the rows ran a long, thin park; a group of boys played footy at one end, and two women were jogging on the path at the other.

Inside the flat was a bit danker, much more what Lucy expected from a man called Gravedigger. Books were stacked from floor to ceiling, and a thin layer of grime coated the floors. The walls, once white, were now a dingy yellow, and the sofa - that he expected one of them to sleep on - looked as if it had been left out in a maelstrom, sort of perpetually soggy and battered.

"You can dump your equipment in that cupboard over there, there's nothing much in it," Digger said. "I figured the girls can take Lissie's room - that's my niece, she's in Glasgow this week, working on a case - and the boys can duke it out for the sofa." Lockwood and George looked down at said furniture dubiously. "I've got a sleeping bag for whoever's left."

"Felicity lives with you?" Lockwood asked, taken aback. "I thought she was in the States with John and Eleanor."

Digger gave Lockwood a knowing smile. "No, she moved in with me when her parents went abroad." He turned to the whole group and added, "She's an agent, too. Works for Hadrian's Agency, has fantastic Sight."

"Isn't she getting a bit old?" Lockwood asked, the rudest Lucy had ever heard him. "She's almost seventeen."

Digger shrugged. "Yes, well, perhaps she takes after her uncle."

"Digger still has his Talent," Lockwood supplied when the others gave him a confused look. "Touch and Sight. It's extraordinary, really."

Digger shrugged. "It comes in handy, not having to lead a bunch of children into dangerous situations." He looked appraisingly at the kids in front of him. "But sometimes an old man needs a little help."

"If your niece is an agent," Lucy said, a bit hesitantly. "Then why did you call us?"

Digger surprised her by laughing. "Oh, Lissie refuses to go anywhere near the places I've been assigned. Smart lass," he added as an afterthought.

"Still as scared as ever," Lockwood murmured. Lucy was the only one to catch this, however, so Digger moved on, unfazed.

"Now, I figure we can take on the Vaults case first - it's very time sensitive, they're hoping to reopen the Vaults to excavators as soon as possible. It's pretty dangerous, but as long as we're prepared it should go smoothly." Digger sat down at the dinky kitchen table, where a pile of papers were stacked haphazardly.

"Now, there's a home over by Holyrood that needs a visitor neutralized so it can be sold. No one currently lives there, so as long some people-" He glanced at George, Lockwood, and Lucy. "-don't set it on fire, it should be child's play. Single visitor, probably type one, more of a nuisance than a danger."

"You set a house on fire one time and they never let you live it down," Lockwood griped. George sighed loudly.

"Now, the last case I've been assigned," Digger started slowly, grimacing a little. "I'm a bit hesitant to ask you lot to join me on this, but I'm not as young as I used to be and no other agency in the city will take it."

At hint of a challenge, Lucy's and Lockwood's eyes lit up. George sighed again.

"Have you ever heard the story of the Lone Piper of Edinburgh Castle?" Digger asked, rubbing the back of his neck. Lockwood and Lucy nodded, but George shook his head and Holly let out a very cheerful, "No!"

"Alright, so back about a hundred years ago, a tunnel system was discovered underneath the Castle. It seemed to lead down the road - what's called the Royal Mile - to Holyrood Palace, which is owned by the Royal Family. To figure out where the tunnels led, a piper was sent down to walk its length and play his bagpipes so that the noise could be followed up on the street. So he did, but at about the halfway point, the piping suddenly stopped. Dozens of rescue teams were sent down after him, but there was trace of him. Shortly after his disappearance, people began to hear his piping - you know, back before the Problem, when Visitors were not much more than scary stories. Now his piping is heard loudly every night, even by those without Talent."

"He's been a problem for a hundred years and no one's neutralized his Source?" George asked, incredulously. "What a load of rubbish."

"Ah, but that's the problem, young Cubbins," Digger said, a tad dramatically. "Almost every agency in the city has sent down at least one team - and none of them have ever returned."

"It's just like Combe Carey all over again," George whispered, mildly horrified.

"I know!" Lockwood said with delight.

"We're all going to die," Lucy said rather cheerfully. "Sounds like fun."

Holly beamed, and rounded up everyone into a big group hug (a considerable feat considering her tiny stature). "This is going to be the best vacation ever!"