Torn Apart

But I'm Giving In

It was strange to feel the weathered wood railing under his hand and know that it was only there at the will of his deceased friend. Arthur hadn't really stopped to think about the mansion beyond its most urgent, immediate solutions to their needs. If there had been more time, he and Vivi would be pounding Lewis with all kinds of questions. Ghosts weren't usually that helpful to them, but this was Lewis. He'd understand their curiosity. Heck, maybe they could have helped him figure out things he didn't know, too.

From the front porch, he could just make out Chloe's hindquarters vanishing into the night. She would find a place to hunker down and wait. It was for the best, they needed an ace in the hole. Dulcie was still waving after her from the lower step. Steeling himself, Arthur hefted a large stone jar in one arm and descended.

"Hey." He tapped her shoulder. "You ready? We need to head out there."

She nodded, slipping her hand in his. Her fingers cut off his circulation.

"Nervous about seeing your Mom again?"

Dulcie didn't answer.

"Well, and about Demeter and everything else, of course." He squeezed her hand. "Your mom can't hurt you, Dulcie. We're all here for you. And Demeter, well." He gave a reassuring smile. "We're working on it. You've got the best chance of anybody right now."

They walked in silence for a few minutes. Lewis had landed them in an empty field. There were lights off in the distance, but he could barely make them out. Not close enough to be of concern. Dry grass rustled underfoot, and he formed a bright green flame atop the jar for light.

"Hey, Dulcie?" Arthur glanced down. "I just wanted to say... some of the stuff I'll have to do and say... I don't really-"

Dulcie dropped his hand, turned, and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Stoppit. Stop saying sorry."

Arthur swallowed past the lump in his throat, patting her back. "I'm sor-I mean, I just wish you hadn't been handed a steaming pile of bad luck like this."

"You too," she said quietly.

Arthur cranked up half a grin. "Yeah. Well. I kind of took it on, didn't I? You never asked for this." He knelt down, setting the jar on the ground and reaching into his vest pocket. He withdrew one gold feather. "I know you've got lots of little reminders to be brave, but never hurts to have another one. From someone else I thought was awfully brave."

Dulcie bit her lip, accepting the feather and tucking it into the rainbow clip. She reached out, taking both his hands as he stood. "Arthur?"

"Yeah?"

She glanced down, then back up again. "Thank you. For trying."

He squeezed her hands tightly. "If I live long enough to have kids, Dulcie, I hope they're half as brave as you."

You know all three reasons that sentence will never come true.

The mansion door slammed open in the distance. He straightened, keeping hold of Dulcie's hands. Reaching into the darker parts of his mind and soul, he began lighting the air around him with small green orbs, casting enough of a glow to highlight their location while still keeping a good deal of shadow on him.

"Don't forget," Dulcie urged, clenching her fingers around his. "Promise me you won't forget!"

Footsteps. They were coming closer.

Arthur's eyes softened. "I couldn't if I wanted to. Somebody wrote my name in permanent marker all over my arm."

A guttural cry sounded behind him, and Arthur tensed. Whirling, he saw a head bearing down on him. Just a head. But not coming at him, the face stared down and past him...