Fall Out – 14.2
Author: Wildbow

Fall Out – 14.2 | Pale

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Lucy set about tying her shoes.

Everything from spring until a week ago had been building up to a moment, the timetable accelerating, the mystery and the trial for the Carmine throne something that had occupied at least some portion of her every thought.  Everyone she talked to, every new idea, every bit of relaxation, it had always been with the end of summer in the back of her mind.

That night had come.

That night had passed.

Every moment since she’d felt some degree of wanting to cry, some degree of wanting to scream her frustration, and she couldn’t really bring herself to do either.  The world didn’t feel real compared to- compared to the gravity of everything before, maybe.  As if she could reach out and break the world around her and she’d be back at some point fifteen minutes before it all went wrong, she’d know what to say to Charles and Maricica.

Or she’d pull the trigger on a gun made out of a can of pop and end Charles.  Spare John.

She would feel like absolute and complete shit with a murder on her hands, Charles  would lie there with his head cracked open like an egg or his chest bleeding, and yet the world would be a better place for it.

She tried to tell herself Maricica wouldn’t have let her point that gun at Charles if she didn’t have some plan to deal with it, but that thought fed into frustration and wanting to scream, and any other thought fed into how she wanted to cry-

-and she was gripping her shoelaces in her fists and not tying her shoes.

I’m tired, Lucy thought.  She wasn’t sleeping.  She’d gotten up early.  Thoughts all over the place.

She tied her shoes and got her stuff, lifted up posters to adjust her connection block and buy herself passage out of the house, then slipped out of the house, doing her best to not make noise.  She’d learned from experience that noise wouldn’t break the connection block, but the rebound would mean her mom would start nosing her way into Lucy’s life in an annoying way after, every day she made enough noise to disturb her mom.

Didn’t help that her mom had been up all night for work.  She saw the note on the door, with a grocery list of basic items, and she pocketed it before heading out.

Because they’d made their routine a little less routine, with more overlap of the shrines they visited, Lucy had to consult a chart to figure out where she was going before she headed out.  She got her bike and took off to the southern end of Kennet.  Near Verona’s house, where she used Sight to glance over the building in vain hopes of getting some idea about how things were going, then down to the trail behind Verona’s block.

She wouldn’t have to use the Sight to get a sense of things if Verona would talk but Verona wasn’t saying much.

Lucy’s brakes squealed, wheels skidding on the dirt.

Two soldiers stood by the path.  There was the one with gray in his hair, Grandfather, and the big guy, who had a full beard and a couple of inches on the others.  Lucy forgot his name.

She got off the bike and walked it toward them, slower than she might normally walk.

“Rook said you’d come through,” Grandfather said.  “After sunrise but before school.”

“And?”

“It might not be a bad idea for you to have protection.  Or company.”

“There was something about learning the system?” the big guy asked.

“I was going to bring that up after, loudmouth,” Grandfather said.  “It’s why he’s called Pipes.  He’s got lungs and insists on using them.”

“Starting with secrets?” Lucy asked.

“Starting with sensitivity,” Grandfather told her.  “If you were missing your friend who left, I might wait to suggest it.”

“Avery.”

“Yeah,” Grandfather said.  “But now it’s on the table.  Rook thought it might make things easier on the two of you who stuck behind, if the locals pick up some work in managing these shrines.  Might help the town too, something about us connecting, city spirit?””

“Ken.  Yeah, there was a thing.  We couldn’t pull an Other side of the city spirit out, because the Others aren’t networked into things.  I’m not sure the shrines are what you need, though.”

“Lucy,” Grandfather said, shaking his head.  “I don’t understand half of this.  If I’m lucky I get gut feelings.  Right, wrong, innocence, but aside from that, I’m a guy with aches from old injuries that I didn’t earn or get myself, I have a good sense of battle, tactics, being quiet, and I survived a bit in some odd corners of Canada before some asshole practitioner bound me.”

“And he knows ten times what I know,” Pipes said, before chortling.  There wasn’t a better word for that.  He wasn’t big around the belly, but he was big, and it was a breathy, deep, from-the-gut-to-breathy laughter sound only a big guy could make.  “Shit.”

“Language,” Grandfather said.

“I really don’t care about language.”

“I kind of do.  John told us to look after things the best way we knew how and letting these crapslicks corrupt you doesn’t feel right.  Now… do you want company?  Bit of chatter?”

“I don’t not want it.”

“Do you mind the protection?”

Lucy shook her head.  Then she looked down at her bike.  “I was going to bike further down.  I can leave it in the trees, I don’t think it’ll get stolen, but I’ll come back to find spiderwebs on it or something.”

“Tell you what,” Grandfather said.  “Do us the favor of letting us tag along, I’ll wipe down the bike to be safe.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she said.  She’d been standing behind the bike with it in between her and them, and she steered it around, heading forward.

It was tempting to think of these Dog Tags or Dogs of War as being friends and allies of John.  Friends of a friend, right?  But the reality Toadswallow had noted for her a few days ago was that John was special and not all of these guys had been given the opportunity to grow.  Some had been birthed on a battlefield and started fighting within minutes, and then they’d been bound.  They hadn’t left that fight, yet.

She put her bike in the woods, leaning against a tree, and looked at Grandfather, shrugging.

“Lead the way.”

“Anything you want to talk about?” Grandfather asked.

“Not exactly, no.  Some stuff, but… later.  After I’ve thought about it some.  I’m sorry about John.”

“Ah, me too, Lucy,” Grandfather said.  “Me too.”

There was that feeling again, like she wanted to cry or scream.  She kept her gaze focused forward, on trees and the green that shrouded the tops and bottoms of them.

“Bunch of our guys headed off.  We had a big sit-down with Rook, the funny little goblin, and the guy- Moss?”

“Matthew, yeah.”

“Figuring out what we’re doing.  Some of our guys already headed off.  They’re too restless.  Horseman and Angel, Ribs, Black, Miles, Fubar, Elvis, Mark, and Joe.  So they’re in these groups of two or three.  Figuring out what they need to figure out, they’ll do these circles to the north, east, west, northeast, whatever, keep the surroundings clear of trouble, stop off in towns, see what appeals, if they can find what John and Yalda found.  What I was starting on before I got snatched up.”

“That sounds good,” Lucy said.

“I’m heading out too,” Pipes declared.  “On my own.  Shorter trip, got things I need and want to do.  Itches to scratch, I won’t say any more than that.”

“They’ll meet up when they can, loop back here,” Grandfather added.  “Get directions if we need directions, we were thinking if anyone wanted, maybe they’d stop in, get civilized a bit, you know?  So it’d be me and Doe learning the ropes, maybe Pipes comes back and we make sure he knows how to act, gets eased back into civilization, maybe make it so he doesn’t scare people.  Not that we can change that face of his…”

Pipes laughed and pushed Grandfather on he arm.

“…Doe can leave, Pipes stays… maybe after a while I’ll leave for a little while, leave Pipes and Doe to watch the fort.”

Why did her heart sink at that last line?

Lucy nodded, but didn’t have any real words to add.  She forced herself to say, “sounds workable.”

“We’ll see.”

“I guess… you learning the shrine maintenance stuff is part of the whole… getting used to Kennet, staying, that sort of thing?”

“I guess so,” Grandfather sighed out the words, sounding weary or unsure.  “Apparently the goblins or ghouls are going with your friend tonight?”

“Okay.  I’ll try to remember to let her know to expect that.  First day of school today.  She’s not a morning person so we fell into the routine of me doing this every morning and she’d do it at night.  I guess if we’re doing it with me, her, and you all trading off on the third shift, that means we’re mixing it up some.”

“We could do more if that helps,” Grandfather said.  “There’s more of us.”

“Maybe,” Lucy said.  “Let’s talk to Verona about it, and to Rook, Miss, Toadswallow, and Matthew.  See what they think.  My gut feeling is- I worry.  I worry at the idea that if you guys are doing five shifts and Verona and I are doing one each, that’s making it more Other than Practitioner?”

The pair were silent.  They carried on walking down the forest path.

“Not that that’s bad on its own,” Lucy hurried to add, as she sorted out her thoughts and realized why the conversation had died.  “Except there’s some Others in town and more Others out of town we haven’t dealt with, who might want to screw us up, and who we can’t easily deal with.  If they start adding their influence into the mix- that’s bad.”

“Sure,” Grandfather replied.  “Is that better if it’s two of you and one of us?”

“Maybe,” Lucy replied.  “Harder for an enemy to get sneaky and wedge themselves and their power into things, taint the shrines or something.”

“How complicated is this crap?” Pipes asked.  “What are we signing on for?”

“I’ll, uh, show you,” Lucy said, looking around and frowning.  “Soon as we get there…”

Where was the shrine?

She checked the paper.

There were two forks to the ‘path’, which wasn’t really a path at this point.  They’d been careful to set shrines down in places innocents didn’t tend to go.  But Avery had tied a ribbon to a branch to mark where they needed to venture into deeper foliage, and that ribbon wasn’t there.

She led the way into the woods, looking, and only by chance did she see the shrine, a bit off to the left.

“Here.  I would like to introduce you to Grabsy.  A not-that-complex complex spirit.”

The spirit lurked in the deeper woods, a silhouette of a child that didn’t clarify much from being a silhouette as it ventured out.  It had that ‘spirit’ look where it felt more like a painted animation cel worked into video footage of realistic woods than something that actually fit the area.

The soldiers trailed a bit behind her as she walked over to the shrine.  Grabsy lurked.

“Complex?” Grandfather asked.

“Like Edith James, Matthew Moss’ wife, but… not as strong or involved here.  Grabsy, we think, was a spirit of want, but an echo- a ghost, of a thieving child, got into the mix, strengthening and supporting him.  Watch your things, especially jewelry, knives, candy.  It is just about exactly a thirteen minute, twenty second chase to get your stuff back if he manages to get it off you.”

“Exactly?” Grandfather asked.

“The child the echo is from.  Probably shoplifted or something, ran off, got caught at that exact time.  That became a distinct memory that detached from the real child and fed into the spirit.  They intertwined.  Just… keep an eye on him while you’re here and tending to the shrine, or you’ll have to run through fallen trees, branches, bushes, whatever, for an uncomfortably long time.”

“Got it,” Grandfather replied.

“He’s helping us out, though.  Through this shrine he supports Kennet and the perimeter.  So what we do is wash the shrine, clean water…”

She uncapped one of the battered thermos-like containers and poured it over the shrine, which had a doll’s hand sticking up from between some rocks, adult-sized jewelry hanging from doll-size fingers, and some pretty stones and bits of glass set within the basin.  The water pooled in the basin itself, only to slowly trickle out through gaps.  Lucy imagined it would take thirteen minutes and twenty seconds to empty.

“Sometimes say a few words.  Thanks for what you do, Grabsy, may you steal something vital from our enemies and intruders.”

“Thanks Grabsy,” Grandfather said, watching the spirit lurk.

“And a token of appreciation.  Usually food, but anything works, if you see something fitting.”

She put some candy on the edge of the shrine, with a shiny gold wrapper.

Grabsy lurked closer.  Lucy watched out of the corner of her eye while trying not to look like she was watching, her fingers brushing away bits of pine needle.

Grabsy dashed in, soundless-

“NICE TRY!” Pipes boomed.

Lucy nearly jumped out of her skin.

But Grabsy had reacted too, and ran off.

“And be gentle with them.  They’re fragile,” Lucy said.

“More gentle than that?” Pipes asked.

She nodded.

“A lot of these guys don’t do gentle,” Grandfather admitted.  “We’ll work on it.”

“Guh,” Pipes grunted.

“Maybe make it up to him another time by letting him take your stuff,” she told Pipes.  “Next shrine…”

She checked the map.

It turned up faster than she’d expected it to.

“We tried to balance it out so the shrines go from violent to passive, or they don’t clump together in terms of concept, because that makes it a weak point.  Setting the table, basically.  So if you start with an easygoing one you might expect a spookier one next.”

“We don’t spook easy,” Pipes told her.

“Yeah, okay, well, these guys are cooperating, I wouldn’t expect trouble from most.  Lott up in the northern part of the perimeter and Engine Head at the three o’clock position of the border are some of the more cranky types.  That’s a complex territory spirit and a rather aggressive industrial machine spirit.”

“Right,” Grandfather replied.

“I won’t remember half of this,” Pipes told her.

“Well, try,” she said.  “Footspur?  Hello!  She likes to hide.  Not that they’re he or she, unless they have echoes inside, but…”

Lucy ducked down, peering beneath a tree that had fallen but hadn’t landed all the way.  Branches meant there was a gap beneath.

Grandfather stooped below to see.  Footspur lay on her belly, hidden in the shadows beneath.  Contorted, eyes narrowed, where hands and feet touched ground, spikes penetrated them, stabbing up and through, sometimes criss-crossing to make lifting the limbs up harder.

“Watch your step.  Sometimes spirits have easy, one-word concepts but not always.  Footspur is the conceptualization of, I think the idea is ‘you step on something and it hurts more than you’d expect’.”

“Lovely,” Grandfather said.

She used the toe of her sneaker to dislodge a small plastic block.  With an extended finger she pointed at a rusty nail that stuck out of the dirt, point up at an angle.

“They’re helpful, but we were limited to using the ones we thought we could trust.  Engine Head is cranky, like I said, but I beat him in a fight so he respects me.  Footspur is taking a little longer to warm up to us, but she’s cool.”

The shrine was a hole dug in the ground, with spikes at the bottom, surrounded by a ‘crown’ of branches that leaned diagonally against one another, sharpened points sticking up.  Rocks helped secure it, and the ground was especially hazardous as she got closer.

“They just want attention and respect, like any of us do,” Lucy said.  “Keep ’em clean and looking nice.”

She opened the next thermos and poured it out over the shrine, then picked up some crap.

“Bringing us to the tricky subject of what offerings to bring.  If you can find something thematically fitting that’s best.  Makes them stronger.”

She had a single-serving box of Queen Cronch cereal, of the type that shredded the roof of the mouth when eaten, even with milk.  She opened it and scattered some on the ground before setting the now-half-empty box at the foot of the shrine.

“And… maybe keep an eye out for minor issues.  This is more something you need to see over time, to notice trends, but if there’s anything funky, let others know.  Like, for example, Footspur?  Hey, we had a talk a few days ago, didn’t we?”

Footspur crawled forward a bit, long hair catching on the ground.  As she pulled hands and limbs free of the spikes and things on the ground, more erupted to punch through.  A shard of glass, a hot ember that made flesh sizzle.  Footspur didn’t seem to care.

“Maybe refocus your energies on things other than making it hard to get here?  You don’t want less offerings, do you?  You could make your shrine prettier or cooler.  Or maybe bring in some like-minded spirits?  Don’t go building an army, but if any minor spirits or Others want to hang out, maybe let them?”

Footspur lifted up a hand, making a sucking sound as she pulled it free of a triangle of glass in a bloody way, then slapped the hand down on the same spot.

“Okay, she’s in a mood.  Thank you for the help, Footspur.”

Footspur scampered off into the undergrowth, moving fast even though she moved with her belly to the ground.

“Pretty easy.  Just gotta make sure they aren’t going too far with however they use their spiritual abilities, report to Rook, Toadswallow, Miss, or us, if there’s anything weird or obvious.  Clean up, bit of food or a minor trinket, say hi, move on.  Come on, last two.”

The spirit of Long was curled up around her shrine.  It took a bit longer to reach her, but Lucy wasn’t sure if that was because of spiritual powers.  The spirit was wearing the affectation of a noodle-like cat, head near the shrine.

“Good work last week, Long,” Lucy told it.  She washed the shrine with the third bottle of water, and Long extended her head beneath it, letting water run over face and down the body, where it turned improbable angles in the course of running down her.  Lucy got some pasta salad she’d made using noodles, and portioned it out just in front of Long’s face.  The spirit ate.

“Everything seems to be in order here.  Were you making the path to get to you longer?” Lucy asked.

The spirit was too busy eating to respond.

“Bit obnoxious but we can work on that.  You seem a bit low energy so I thought I’d give you a better snack.  We’ll give you a bit extra until you’re back at full power, how’s that?”

The spirit didn’t respond.  Lucy pet it gently, then turned back to look at the soldiers, jerking her thumb.  “Last one.  Verona covered it last night but we want a bit of overlap.  I’m sure you can ask any senior member of Kennet and they can tell you the schedule.”

“Alright,” Grandfather said.

They walked down the way.  Lucy found herself glancing back- past Pipes, and at the path.

She did even more glancing as they took more time to get where they were going.  The way wasn’t too bad, and made use of a dirt path with leaves creeping in from the edges, but…

Whatever it was, it left her unsettled, like one plus one added up to two, and two plus two added up to four, but now that she was in the numbers where adding them up took an extra thought, she wasn’t sure it was adding up.

Was that Long being mischievous, stealing a bit of extra attention by making it obnoxious to get to her?  Intentionally or as a way of replenishing strength Long wasn’t fully aware of?

She’d done a bunch of patrols and she’d been here a handful of times, on this path.

And there was no shrine where there was supposed to be a shrine.

“What’s wrong?” Grandfather asked.

“Something’s making it hard to navigate.  There were two close together, Long was harder to get to… reminds me of when Guilherme and I dealt with… it was this god that built a trap around itself, by distorting space.”

“We were told it would be harder to get back to Kennet than it was to leave,” Grandfather observed.

“Yeah,” Lucy replied.  “But we’re not entering Kennet.  We’re at the border.  Borrador, spirit!  I call out to you!”

She felt a breeze, and the breeze intensified, along with an ominous feeling.

“You said spirits went from friendlier to unfriendly?”

“They’re mostly friendly or neutral, but, I dunno.  Combat ready?  Aggressive isn’t the right word.”

“What’s this a spirit of?”

“Bit hard to pin down.  Verona’s pretty good at this stuff and she called it an unwelcome stranger at the door, letting a draft in?  She named it too.”

The ominous feeling mounted, and as Lucy turned, sensing the breeze, she saw the gap between two trees, the spirit of a tall man in dark gray clothing standing within the vaguely rectangular frame.  He wore a top hat and the part where hat met head made unkempt hair fan out a bit.  He hunched forward a bit, intimidating.

Unlike other spirits he seemed mostly normal, but the frame of the space around and behind him, between the trees and squared of by a horizontal branch above, like a narrow, tall doorway, it was filled in in a funny way, the colors off.

She shivered a bit at the draft coming past him.

“Hey Borrador,” she greeted him.  “Is this weirdness with the way to your shrine you?  Or Long?”

The spirit shook his head.  The image didn’t hold together very well as he did, almost as if he was an echo.  But he wasn’t complex.  Maybe tainted by another angle.

“Sorry about this.  Do you mind showing me the way to your shrine?  I think something’s up.”

Borrador turned, then stepped out of view.

Leaving that gap between the trees open, the draft stirring past.

“You don’t have to come with, I know this isn’t your thing.  Spirits don’t lend themselves to shooty-shoot.”

“I’ll come,” Grandfather said.  “John put up a good fight against a spirit, I can imagine him frowning at me if I left you now.”

The mention of John left Lucy feeling a little less balanced on her own two feet, which mixed up with the feeling of this weirdness, and the lingering feeling that nothing was really real.

Which would only get worse.  She approached the door.

“Coming, Pipes?” Grandfather asked.

“You need the door guarded?” Pipes asked, looking around.

“Wouldn’t hurt,” Lucy said.  “In fact, until we know what’s up, might be good if you did.  Keep an eye on our rear?”

“Cute rear like this?”  Pipes grabbed for Grandfather’s butt, prompting Grandfather to skip out of the way, then punched Pipes squarely in the upper arm.

Pipes laughed, loud.  “I’ll stand guard then.”

“Asshole,” Grandfather said.  Then he looked at Lucy.  “Sorry.”

“Again, really don’t care about the swearing.”

They passed through the door.  Borrador lurked nearby, waiting, as they ventured into the spirit world.

Here, theme, context, symbol, and imagery took on different meanings.  Component parts of things became their own entities.  The sky was more white than blue, the clouds hard to distinguish from foliage, everything blurring together until it ate at her confidence.  If she could be certain that she was looking at a vertical tree trunk, she could take a few steps and realize it was a gap, an optical illusion.  Things moved when she wasn’t looking at them and they moved when she was, form dissolving to spirit and spirit settling into form like fog fading to reveal a wall where it had been opaque before.

No clear signs of disturbance, no weirdness…

Grandfather interrupted the silence.  “Did John do this sort of thing a lot?  Strange places, dealing with all sorts of Other?”

“Some,” Lucy said.  “Mostly the dealing.  But the locals went to the spirit world to summon Ken and visit him.  John stood guard over Ken some, so he spent some time here.”

Leaving his curiosity sated a tiny bit, and throwing her emotions into all sorts of upheaval.

Not that Grandfather had any less reason to be upset over John.

“Maybe, uh…” she started, then she stopped.  “Nevermind.”

“Whatever it is, I want to hear.”

“I was really fond of John.”

“He was fond of you.  All three of you but you specifically.”

That stung.  She didn’t know why it stung when it was something nice but she would have rather not had that mentioned.  If she tried to make sense of it, she felt guilty, hearing it.  But that wasn’t even part or all of it.

“You were saying?”

“Just… can we space out the John talk?” she asked.  “Maybe not… I feel like an asshole saying this, but not mentioning him every five minutes?”

Grandfather fell silent.

“Just… sucks.  I’ll answer your questions, I’m…” She stopped short of saying ‘happy’.  “…I’ll answer questions about him, who he was to me, to us, to Kennet, but-”

“But not all at once.”

“Yeah.  Is that okay?”

“It’s okay.”

“Sorry.”

“No.  I plan to be around for at least a few months before I leave Doe in my spot.  Spacing it out sounds good.  I’ll tell the others too, in case you run into them.”

It felt like she was betraying John, doing this.

She tried to push it out of her head.  There was something to focus on here.

Navigating here was weird too, but it was more about the sense of distance and time passing than the sort of weirdness they’d run into back in reality, where paths were too long or too short and landmarks like a ribbon on a branch or a shrine in a clearing weren’t where they were supposed to be.

She navigated her way to Borrador’s shrine.  It looked like a doorframe, without the wall on either side.  Rocks kept everything propped up, and little skulls surrounded the base.  Some from Verona’s room, some from Snowdrop and the goblins.

It looked different here.  The space inside the door was darker than the space outside, and the bones moved.  It swayed in the wind of the spirit world, and that wind whistled faintly as it passed through the gap of the narrow doorway.

She got the last thing of water out, and she cleaned it gently.  She placed a cigarette at the base-

“Heads up,” Grandfather said.

She moved aside.  Borrador came, stooped low, and occupied the narrow rectangle that was the ‘door frame’.  The shadowed space within darkened as he contorted, fitting himself within by bending limbs at impossible angles.  Lighter features receded, leaving the dark and the shadow, and he dissolved into a comfortable state, occupying his shrine, turning the doorway dark, with a human-shaped shadow striking its way across the ground just past the shrine.

A hand reached out to take the cigarette.

“Thank you for your help with the perimeter, your power, and for granting us access.  Take your tribute and my respect,” she told Borrador.

The wood of the shrine creaked.

“If we run into spiritual trouble we’d appreciate any help you’re able to give.”

There was a rasp of a exhalation from the doorway.

It sounded generally positive?

She turned, looking.  She had to look for it, but the shrine was connected to other things in reality.  The frame cast shadows, like the faint shadows cast if five different bright lights illuminated the same subject, and two of those shadows reached out.

But they weren’t straight.

“That feels like something that should connect directly to the next shrine, and back to Long,” Lucy said, pointing.

“If you say so.”

“I think it still connects.  The perimeter holds.  But… come on.”

Moving to that shadow-connection helped get things out of the way.  Landscape shifted, the path cleared.  Like a pop-up book, the individual components moving into place or folding down and out to the side.

She stepped from field to the dark shadow-path, bent down, and touched it.

What was it associated with?  Distances between things in the spirit world depended on connections and thematic links.

Avery would have been the person to call and get help from in this sort of thing.  She’d done that write-up of the spirit world, and some research.

While walking down the path, Lucy kept an eye out for anything that stood out.  Anything that was different now that she was here.

“Anything weird to you, Grandfather?” she asked.

“The sky.”

She looked.

It looked like the sky had been painted in trails and markings left behind by passing planes.  Those faint smoke trails drawing straight lines, but birds had flown through them, making them fork.  Planes had turned at relatively sharp angles, or moved in formation.

The longer she stared at it the more it clarified.  Dark clouds against a white sky- light gray clouds against a sky that darkened as if a shadow had passed over it.

Streets.  Streets and lines and if she looked she could now see buildings.

“It’s Kennet,” she told Grandfather.

“Seems like.”

“Might be Lis.  Our new city spirit, she’s probably lurking somewhere in this spirit world, protected.  Maybe directly over-”

She moved, letting dramatic effect help bring everything into alignment.

If she was in some spiritual representation of Kennet and the sky above reflected some ordered spirit of street, structure, layout, then, sure enough, there they were.

A flare of red and bloodiness near the center of Kennet, on an island that would be hell to reach, surrounded by a river that ran with blood as it got too close to that flare of a building.

And that flare extended up to the sky, and that organized layout of Kennet.  To a rooftop that stabbed down from that network, inverted, surrounded by staircases.

The same place they’d gone to see Ken and talk to the four subdivisions of the city spirit.  Unsuccessfully.

“The city spirit is accommodating the Carmine Exile,” she told Grandfather, “who is repaying the favor by sheltering the city spirit.  I bet we couldn’t get to her without running into that red stuff.  And I don’t think we can even approach, by spirit or by reality, without taking a day to get there, which gets awkward when we’re less than a day away.  What do you do?  Travel out and then drive in?  Or walk a slowly closing spiral through the town and hope nobody notices or thinks you’re crazy?””

“Is this something to tell the head Others of Kennet?” Grandfather asked.

“Guess so,” Lucy said.  She used the vantage point to try to work out what else was going on.

The clouds at the periphery of the Kennet in the spirit-clouds were roiling, rolling, in a loose ring.  Leaking out in an inconsistent stream and general push outward, but on the flip side, barely anything leaked in.

And the finer paths, those thin trails that marked ways through the valley, or ways through the woods, to the perimeter?  She could look almost straight up at the representation of the perimeter and the paths between shrines and she could see that things were drifting considerably.  Toward the edges of Lis’ reach, things were bending and twisting, stretching out, the trails thinner.

“Mind telling Rook or Miss to come and take a look at this?  I’ll contact Verona and meet up with them later, maybe we can figure out a way to lay claim or pin down the shrines.  Avoid letting the city lay claim to them or push them out of relevance.  For right now, though, I’ve gotta get to my first day back at school.”

“I’ll pass it on.”

“Thanks.  Borrador!” Lucy called out.  “Can you provide an exit!?  I should get to school!”

Lucy came down from her room, freshly showered, dressed in a new top from back to school shopping, and a skirt she’d worn before.  The smell of freshly cooked breakfast filled the kitchen.

“Wow,” she said, taking in the french toast, mini-sausage and fruit salad.

“Much of this is only possible because you picked up the things from the convenience store.”

Lucy had copped to going out first thing, but had made it about the run to the convenience store and not being able to sleep.

“Thought we’d start off the school year in a good way.  You look beautiful, by the way,” her mom said.

“Thank you, you too,” Lucy replied, feeling awkward.

The ‘you too’ got an eye roll from her mom.  “I probably look like a zombie.”

“Did you sleep?  Not like- I don’t mean this took all night, but I know you worked late-”

“I napped.  I’ll sleep while you’re at school.”

“I don’t know how you do that.  But thank you.”

“Mmm,” her mom said, smiling, sitting across from Lucy, eyes half lidded, but smiling like she was happy.  She perked up and got up, going for her bag on the corner of the counter.  “Oh!  Let me get a picture of you.”

“No, please, not while I’m eating.  Barely anyone looks good halfway through eating.”

“You’ve got to give me one photo after.  Before I drive you.”

Lucy, midway through getting a spoonful of french toast into her mouth without getting any traces of syrup on her clothes, gave her mom a thumbs up.

“I was thinking, before my nap and after, that phone call you made.”

Lucy knew the phone call.  She raised her eyebrows at her mom.

“You sounded so distressed.  And I don’t know- it ended up being good.  But you were so on the mark when you asked if he was attractive.”

“Mm,” Lucy said, chewing and nodding.

“What on earth was that about?”

“Did something happen?” Lucy asked.

“Are you trying to distract me by asking that?”

“Really truly did something happen?  Are you okay now?”

“You first,” her mom said, fake stern but also kind of serious stern too.

“There was a rumor, about a possibly dangerous creep, some of the people I’ve been hanging out and meeting with said it.  About an eerily beautiful man who could manipulate relationships coming to Kennet.  And then when we talked on the phone, I was thinking about it and… yeah.”

“Bit of an urban legend?”

Lucy shrugged, using a finger to keep a grape in place so she could spear it with her fork.  Chewing and eating was a refuge where she didn’t have to talk much.

“A ghost story told at the end of summer party?” her mom asked, eyebrow quirked.

“There really, really very super truly wasn’t an end of summer party, or if there was, it was discreet and we weren’t invited to it.”

“Uh huh,” her mom answered, in the tone of someone who was ready to fall asleep.  She yawned.

“Are you going to be okay to drive me?  Because I can bike.”

“Not wearing that skirt you can’t.  Don’t worry.  We will be fine, and traffic moves at ten kilometers an hour around the school.”

“Okay.  Did anything happen with the guy?  You never said.”

“With Steven?  A bit.  He was rude and grabby, I shut him down.  But if you hadn’t sounded like that on the phone, I’m not sure I would’ve been as quick to catch what was happening.  That is all I need to say, I think.  That, and thank you.  Even if you didn’t intend to, your concern for me mattered.”

Lucy nodded.

“I’d be interested in hearing where that urban legend started.  Maybe there’s some truth to it.”

“Isn’t there more truth to these things than we’d suspect?” Lucy asked.

“Maybe.  I’m going to use the facilities, splash some water on my face, and try to get my hair presentable in case any parents walk up to the car window.  Do you need anything?”

“This is great, thank you.”

“Got your books ready?  We’ll go shortly after I’m back.”

“I’m set, I think.  It’s only the first day anyway.”

“Good.”

Lucy finished while her mom sorted herself out, washed her plate, and put everything away that she could get away with putting away, with wrap over the bowl of fruit salad and juice going in the fridge.

The fridge door closed and she felt an exceedingly vivid impression of the front door to the Arena closing.  For John.  For Charles.  Each moment chased with a flare of emotion, almost as if she was back there, her heart and head and body reacting.  And another moment, the door opening.  The hope.  The hope that everything would turn out okay.

Goosebumps prickled her arms and legs and her heart felt like it dangled from a fraying string in her chest.

She wiped up bacon flecks and bits of crispy french toast crust that had broken off and escaped the plate.

She ran upstairs as her mother went into her room-

“One moment!”

“Brushing my teeth!”

“We leave in a minute!”

Lucy already had toothpaste on her toothbrush.  She did a quick scrub and spit, wiped her mouth, and checked herself over in the mirror.  She used a fingernail to scrape away a bit of toothpaste.

Reality didn’t feel real.

“Ready?” her mom asked.

She nodded, turned around, saw her mom with phone ready, and gave her best smile and pose.  The camera flashed.

They left the house, Lucy locking up while her mom went to the car.  Not that it super mattered that they were super on time, because it was day one and there would be lost kids showing up five or ten minutes late, and friends catching up, but whatever.

Once belted, as they pulled out, she texted Avery.  Good luck at the new school!

The reply came back: already sitting through h-room.  school starts an hour earlier here.  is rude IMO.  school is fine.

“Then what are you doing texting?  You’ll get your phone taken away,” Lucy muttered.

“Avery’s at her new school already.”

“Tell her good luck.”

“Already did.”

She texted Verona.  OMW.

Verona replied: i’m not.  dad’s taking me to the doctor for my hand.  uuugh.

“What the frigging heck is that timing?” Lucy muttered, as she typed out something to that effect.  For her mom’s benefit, she said out loud, “Verona’s going to the doctor.”

“And missing school?”

“Apparently a hand thing.”

“Worrying.”

“It’s not her dad.  He’s taking her.  I think it’s something from before she went back.”

“Hmm.”

Her mom didn’t look happy about that.  Lucy didn’t feel happy about it.

Traffic was slower than ten kilometers an hour as they got close.  Parents unloaded kids and older people in orange vests managed traffic and made sure parents didn’t linger too long with the hugging and tearful goodbyes, especially for the youngest kids.

“Good luck!” her mom called out, as they pulled up.

“Thanks!  Sleep!”

“I’ll try.”

Lucy closed the door and hurried to the front door, pulling her bag on while dodging some kids Kerry’s age- and Kerry herself.  It felt jarring, seeing that, until she remembered Kerry hadn’t gone.  Avery hadn’t mentioned Kerry a lot when talking about the dynamic at her dad’s.

Teachers were calling out, “Grade one!  Grade one!”  “Second grade!”

Parents were in the mix too, guiding the youngest kids.  Some kindergartners were openly crying.

Lucy hoped Kerry wouldn’t be forgotten in the chaos like Avery had.

She went inside, and saw a crowd in the front hall.  There were papers on the wall with labels above them.  Grade 8, Grade 9…

She worked her way through the crowd, looking, and saw Wallace looking at a sheet.  One of his arms was in a sling.  Sidling up, she stood next to him, her shoulder and upper arm touching his.

He looked confused for a second, then he beamed.

That felt good.

“Heya,” she said, leaning into his non-sling arm and shoulder slightly as she said it.

“Hi.  You look great.”

“You didn’t even need prompting this time, Wallace,” Mia declared.  “Good man.”

“Same class,” he said.  “Not that that’s hard.”

“Same class?” Jeremy asked, as he joined them.

“Yeah, but-”

“But there’s only one class,” Mia said.

There had been two, it looked like.  Two sheets, with a list of students on each, but black marker had been used to scratch out a name, and about fifteen names on the two different lists.

“What the heck?” Lucy asked.  “Was there some horrible bus accident I didn’t hear about?”

“Wow, morbid,” Jeremy said.

“What happened?”

“You heard, right?” Mia asked.  “They’re doing construction on highway seventeen?”

“Uhhh… yeah, think I saw something.”

“So yeah.  They’re doing construction all fall and some of the winter, shut down a whole section of the highway, there’s a side road people can use in the meantime, but they apparently didn’t consider Kennet in the planning, so it’s a real pain to get through.  A bunch of businesses closed real quick, because nobody’s driving off the highway to stop by or use a motel if it’s awkward to get in, you know?  People are mad,” Wallace explained.

“I saw a newspaper article,” Lucy said.

“It was so last minute,” Mia said.  “Emerson’s dad commutes, you know?  They up and moved, put the house on the market, gathered up stuff, left.  They’re staying with her uncle until they find a place.  Amadeus left too.”

“Nooo!” Lucy exclaimed.  “Really?”

Mia clasped her hands to her heart.  “Utterly heartbroken.”

She didn’t really look or sound that heartbroken, but she was a hard one to read.  Lucy nonetheless exclaimed, “I’m so sorry.”

“Sucks sucks sucks,” Mia said.

“How did that affect the dance thing?”

“We barely scraped by before Kennet imploded.  Any later and people would’ve moved away.”

Imploded, Lucy thought.

“Boys and girls, if you’ve found your class, please hurry along!” a teacher declared.

They glanced at the sheet and hurried along.  Lucy glanced at the other sheets and saw more lines drawn out.  Black marker crossed a third of the names out.

Things would’ve been one and a half classes but it had been cut down to one.

Is this going to get worse? Lucy thought, feeling a bit of trepidation.

“Where are Verona and Avery?” Mia asked.

“Avery left.  Verona’s missing school to go to the doctor.  She hurt her hand on the last day of summer.”

“She mentioned that.  She was rubbing it like it was sore,” Jeremy said.

“You saw her?” Mia cooed.

“To visit Melissa’s cat.  We were working together to take care of it before Melissa adopted it.  Verona and I are friends,” Jeremy replied.

Mr. Sitton was their homeroom teacher.  Lucy hid her distaste as she saw him greeting them.

“Mr. Jeremy Clifford, the talented artist.  Always a pleasure to have a top student back, Wallace.  Mia, congratulations, I heard Wavy Tree did fantastic this summer.  Miss Ellingson, how are you this fine day?”

She smiled awkwardly at that, without responding.

When they were a safe distance away, she asked, “Does Mr. Sitton use a different tone of voice with me or is it all in my head?”

“I wasn’t listening,” Jeremy replied.

“Maybe he flubbed on what to say, like, you’re a good student, maybe he thought he couldn’t repeat himself, stalled, and jumped to something default?” Mia suggested, shrugging one shoulder.

“Weird tone because of the awkwardness?” Wallace asked.

“Except it’s all the time,” Lucy said.

“I’ll try and listen for it,” Wallace said.

She smiled at him.

“Sharon Maddocks, congratulations on the win,” Mr. Sitton said.

“Sharon!” Mia cried out, arms extended.

“Inside voices!” Mr. Sitton told them.

“You’ve survived the pruning,” Mia exclaimed, fake-dramatic.

“We lost Alexa, Kyleigh, and Emerson,” Sharon moaned, assuming a similar tone.

“Alexa?  But she was on the list!”

“They decided this morning!”

Mia fake-sobbed.

Jeremy, Wallace, and Lucy inched away from that.  The two boys took seats near the back corner, far from the door.

“Crazy,” Jeremy said.

“Them or this?” Wallace asked.

“This,” Jeremy said.  “I was worried when I didn’t see Verona.”

“Fingers crossed, she’s sticking around,” Lucy said, crossing her fingers.  “Mind if I ask about the sling, Wallace?”

“Nothing’s injured but my elbow was feeling like it sometimes gets before it comes apart, so we thought I should play it safe.  Surgery in nine days.”

“Luck, man,” Jeremy told him.

“Are you going to be staying in the city for that, then?” Lucy asked.

“We were on the fence about it.  If I stay here there’s school, friends, uh, you-”

She smiled.

“-But if we stay in the city, it’s easier of something goes wrong.”

“I think, the way things are going, if you go to the city to stay, you might not come back,” she told him.

“You think?”

She nodded.

“This is wild,” Jeremy murmured, looking at the class as students filtered in.  “We don’t have the advanced class anymore, huh?”

“I’m not sure if we’d have it or if we’d be in it with the new students, but yeah,” Lucy replied.  She checked Mr. Sitton wasn’t looking and got her phone out, texting Verona.  A third of the students moved or something.  Knotting @ work?

Verona sent a surprised cat emote in response.

How are you?  Lucy messaged her.

hand ok.  doc gave me exercises, some meds I prolly won’t use.  drugs scare me after that 1 nightmare.

Lucy tried to think of how to respond to that when Verona sent a follow-up message: might not make it in this afternoon either.  will see

“Melissa Oakham.  Congratulations on the Wavy Tree win.”

“Pretty obviously not in dance or gymnastics anymore,” Melissa said, stamping her cane on the floor.  She looked for and found Lucy.  “Can I fill my water bottle in the sink?”

“Of course.  Maybe let it run a bit it to make sure the water isn’t stale.”

There was a sink at the back corner of the classroom, with a tiny cabinet of science stuff.

Melissa jerked her head over.  Lucy got up from her seat, walking over.

Melissa ran the tap, emptying her water bottle, and leaned against the counter, looking at Lucy.  She’d lost just a touch of weight but her skin was bad, her hair tied back into a ponytail.  Her hair was crimped but not freshly crimped.  Everyone was wearing back to school clothes and seemed ready for a fresh start and Melissa looked like the class usually did when winter was coming to an end and everyone was dead tired of existing in the dark and the cold, not really putting in effort anymore.

“What in the hell is going on?” Melissa asked.

“Do you really want to know?” Lucy asked.

“I know I’m supposed to say no, by whatever stupid rules you guys operate by, but… hit me with it.”

“The guys we were up against?  Scary people, monsters, things?  We kinda lost,” Lucy told Melissa.

“Lost, like…?”

“Like we lost friends, we-”

Lucy stopped.  That feeling of wanting to scream hit her out of nowhere, and it took her a second to just hold things together.  She continued very carefully, “like Avery’s gone, Verona’s hurt in some metaphysical way because she pushed herself too hard.  Like… Kennet is being twisted.  And I guess like how you wring a towel and the water comes out… we’re losing people.”

“What happens when a town gets twisted?  Besides losing people.  That thing with the highway?”

“Locations move.  Bad things come out at night, maybe.  Usual rules don’t always apply.”

“That sounds like a massive pain in the rectum,” Melissa said.  “Why the hell couldn’t you guys win?”

Lucy started to reply, stopped, then turned her back to the class.  From wanting to scream to wanting to cry.  She couldn’t completely hide it from Melissa, and Melissa’s expression changed, softening, as she realized she’d crossed a line by asking that.

“We tried.  We really did try,” Lucy whispered.  She picked moisture out of the corner of her eye with a thumbnail.

“What happens next?” Melissa asked, not whispering.

Lucy whispered her response.  “You should go.  You have an out, we gave you the information.  Maybe take it.  You’re vulnerable.  You’re still innocent, but you’re vulnerable.”

“I’d like to stay a bit, see what happens.  Maybe help.”

Of course Melissa wasn’t going to listen.

“What should I expect?” Melissa asked.  “What gets weird?  What happens?”

“All I know is…  things are going to get worse…”

“…before they get better,” Lucy said.

“Almost certainly,” Rook answered.

They were gathered.  The ‘top brass’ of the Kennet council, which meant Miss, Matthew, Toadswallow, and Rook.  They were joined by Grandfather, Pipes, Doe, and some scattered goblins in the back corner.

No Verona.

No Guilherme.

“And so Lis is out, controlling Kennet…”

“At least it seems to be largely benign,” Matthew said.  “Or neutral.  She’s not exacerbating the issue and she’s holding back the knotting.  I’ve spent nearly a decade trying to hold a sword of Damocles by the blade to try to keep it from falling on someone… or I thought I was.  It’s hard not to interpret this sort of thing as manipulation, now.”

“Don’t mess with me or I’ll stop holding back the knotting?” Lucy asked.

“Something like that,” Matthew said.  “It’s on brand for them.”

“What’s the word from outside practitioners?” Toadswallow asked.

“Talked to Nicolette, talked to Avery.  Sounds like Charles is doing a lot of preliminary moves.  Testing the waters, going after the vulnerable.  Kids.  He went straight for Ray Sunshine, though.  Some of Musser’s other contacts, too.”

“No great surprise there,” Rook replied.  “I expect Musser anticipated it, even with his great confidence.”

Miss finally spoke up, saying, “Maybe Charles is reminding people he exists while he catches up on everything that wasn’t done while his predecessor was dead for nearly six months.”

“Would he be catching up if he thought his tenure would be short?” Rook asked.

“Maybe he thinks it won’t be, now?” Toadswallow asked.  Then the goblin groaned.  “Such nuisance!  You’re fine, right, Lucy dear?”

“I’m- I think he’s going out of his way to leave us alone.”

“That may change if we end up on his bad side,” Miss said.  “I’m afraid that with everything going on, you’ll have new responsibilities, Lucy.”

“Hit me with it.”

Miss explained, “Knotted persons have already started filtering in.  Tashlit could tell you more, so perhaps reach out to her to speak with her in dreams, I know her brother has experience.”

“Knotted people?”

“There are people drawn to knotted spaces, and there are people who will spontaneously appear in those spaces.  The line between the two things is indistinct.  They usually keep the company of other knotted persons, but not completely.  Some will cross that indistinct line.”

“What in the heck does that mean?” Lucy asked.

Miss went on, “They’ll show up.  Broad daylight.  They don’t always flinch at or care about Others and they aren’t innocent.  We don’t know the particulars yet, but you’ll want to watch out for them.  Perhaps guide them back where they came from.”

“Jabber is ready if they kick up more of a fuss,” Matthew said.  “It’s not an elegant way to handle things, but…”

“It’ll have to do,” Miss said.  To Lucy, she said, “Call Matthew if a situation becomes untenable.”

“I don’t even know what that would look like.  What happens with these guys?”

“We’ll have to see.”

“I should ask, what we’re talking about is a coin with two sides, isn’t it?” Toadswallow asked.  “They’re getting in, and…”

“It is,” Miss said.  “Yes, the opposite is true.  Some of Kennet’s innocents may wander down the wrong street that doesn’t see much traffic and find themselves in the company of knotted people.  Keep an eye out and be ready to rescue them if need be.  I mentioned this to Verona, earlier.”

“You talked to Verona?” Lucy asked.  “Earlier?  This morning earlier?”

“Yes.  She called me.  She asked for a distraction from reality.  So we talked about duties.”

“Why the heck did she need a distraction from reality.  Is her hand okay?”

“Her hand is mostly alright.  I think it was a collection of factors.”

“How did Verona seem to you?” Matthew asked Lucy.

“Withdrawn?  She pulls back when things get bad and things are pretty obviously bad but this is… way overboard.  What did you say, Miss?”

“We talked, and the conversation led to discussion of what the foreseeable future might look like, and to me telling her much of this.”

“Is that why she might not be at school this afternoon?” Lucy asked, a little heated.  “She fucked off to go investigate the knotting?  On the first freaking day of school?”

“It was not my intention that she jump straight into that, but I imagine it’s possible,” Miss said.

“I should ask,” Matthew said.  “How long is your lunch break?  An hour?”

“Forty-five minutes.”

“I think your time is almost up.”

“Shit!  Thanks,” Lucy said, getting up, and getting her stuff together.

“I’ll come with you,” Matthew said.

Without being bid, Pipes and Doe got up.  Grandfather remained.

“We’ll need to talk about the shrines,” Lucy told the room.  “Figure out a way to pin them down.  If they get too disorderly then it might… what did you say during awakening?  Tip the table one way or the other?”

“That might mean having to negotiate with Lis,” Matthew said.

Lucy scowled.

“I don’t like it either,” he said.

“We will discuss and see if we can come up with anything,” Miss said.

“Fuck me,” Lucy swore.  She pulled out her phone.  “Okay, gonna run.”

“Enjoy your day!” Toadswallow called after them, as they left.

She walked in the direction of school, Matthew beside her, Doe and Pipes following.

“And why do I have an entourage?”

“Because I have work and this is the direction to my car,” Matthew said.

“We’re guarding you, just in case,” Pipes said.  “Not sure what else I’m meant to do with myself.”

“Maybe find Verona, because if she’s sticking her nose into the knotted-up parts of Kennet, she might really need it.”

“We’ll go do that as soon as we see you safely inside,” Pipes told her.

Lucy glanced back at Doe, who nodded.  Silent.

They walked a block.  The school came into view.  Some senior students walked by.

This all felt like a bad dream, but it was real.  Things just so slightly off.  Would that group of older teenagers have been larger, before?  Would there have been more cars on the road?

“Is Kennet going to disappear?” Lucy asked.

“No,” Matthew replied.  “But it might turn into something hard to recognize.”

“Are you okay?” she asked.  “Generally?”

“No.  Generally speaking I’m feeling like nothing’s going to be okay ever again,” he replied.  “But that’s for me to deal with, okay?”

“I don’t think it is okay.  I think I want to help, we need to help each other,” Lucy told him.

“I will manage,” Matthew said.  “And you, your job?  Take care of yourself first.  We never expected you to- to do most of this.  Miss might have, but the rest of us really didn’t.  We didn’t expect you to find the culprits, we didn’t expect you to bind or stop any of them, we didn’t expect you to stop Charles, we don’t expect you to save Kennet.  Okay?  If you want to help, I won’t say no, or I won’t say it in an overly strenuous way… probably.  But don’t help at the expense of your own well being, physical, mental, or emotional.”

“I think that boat already sailed, got fucked by a hundred torpedoes and sank, Matthew,” Lucy said.

He smiled.  “Metaphorically?”

“Of course.”

“It helps if you add that.  Metaphorically speaking, practitioner thing.”

“Okay,” she told him.

“You call me if you need anything, okay?  I don’t just mean Jabber, I don’t mean practitioner knowledge.  I know this is tough with your mom not in the know.  It’s tough with…”

Don’t say John.

“…Everything.  If there’s anything I can do, ask.  Alright?  I’d feel better if I had a chance to be useful.”

Matthew stopped.  Doe had reached forward, touching his arm.  Lucy walked another few steps then stopped as well.

He turned his head, following Doe’s gaze.

Edith.  Across the street.  With a shopping bag in hand.

She noticed them after they noticed her, then she looked both ways, like she was going to cross the street.  Matthew was very still.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Pipes boomed.

Edith stopped, surprised.  A few stray heads on the street turned to look.

“You walk away!” Pipes shouted, and he was loud.  “Walk the fuck away now!  Better yet, leave Kennet!”

Matthew raised a hand, touching Pipes’ arm.

“Fucking-” Pipes started.  He bit off the words.

Edith remained where she was for a long few seconds, then turned, striding away.

“I might’ve mentioned to the Dog Tags that are sticking around that…” Matthew trailed off.  “…Yeah.”

“Did she move out?” Lucy asked.

“No.  The house is partially hers, and there’s no easy way to get rid of her just right now,” Matthew said.

“You’re- you’re living with her, still?” Lucy asked.

“If I move, if I give up my house… what do I even have?  I don’t think I’d even get anything for it, current state of things.  The knotting.”

“You’d have your sanity,” Doe remarked, quiet.

“Maybe, yeah,” Matthew replied, staring at Edith’s back as she walked away.  “I kind of don’t mind sacrificing my sanity, taking on some heartbreak, if it means I can keep an eye on her.  On them.”

“Is that really worth it?” Lucy asked.

“Fuck,” Matthew muttered, volume so low her earring picked it up as a whisper.  Then, louder, he said, “The ambient spirits, wraiths, echoes, and everything that leaked in after she was bound by you and the Sable, she’s got a good handle on them.  She’s keeping them closer.  Keeping herself strong.  I think she thinks I might let the Doom out, so she’s staying protected and ready.  They lurk around the house.  It’s like a haunted house from the movies, things moving, spirits occupying vessels, echoes moaning in the dark corners, angry ghosts jumping out at me, throwing things…”

“That’s a fuckload of shit to be dealing with, Matthew,” Pipes told him.  Lucy nodded her agreement.

“You know the worst part?  It’s me going to my kitchen, my fridge, to get a beer, and she’s there, drinking water, making eye contact.  Two of us living in one house, separate beds, barely talking, barely interacting.  But she’s there.  Not even there in the basement, jailed, leaving me the hope she could come around and realize what she did wrong.  She’s just… there.  And it feels like she- like she thinks she’s winning somehow just by being there.”

“What if you let that Doom out, Matthew?” Pipes asked.  “Hypothetically.”

“Then maybe it succeeds,” Matthew said, quiet.  “And real life people have real life questions about where my wife went and why she’s not just dead but splattered across… splattered, probably.  Or worse.  And on the Other side of it, I don’t know how the Carmine Exile reacts, or if Maricica made promises, or any of that.  Maybe Lis stops playing nice.  And either way, I’ve killed the woman I love- who I don’t want to love, but there it is.  I’ve dwelt on that a lot.”

“Matthew-” Lucy said.

“A-a-and,” he stuttered, interrupting.  “Maybe somehow she beats it.  Maybe those spirits and wraiths buy her an edge, and she beats the Doom, which was never as strong as she pretended.  And then there’s me, with a big gaping hole inside of me that the Doom used to fill, and there’s her, a complex spirit that would be happy as anything to fill that void and never let go of it.”

“I think you gotta leave, Matthew,” Lucy told him, deeply concerned.  “Leave Kennet if you have to or… at least rent a place?  If you had the money to give to Verona you have the money to get a rental.”

“Get yourself to school, Lucy.  Live that rich and full life, as best as you can.  I shouldn’t be adding to your stresses.  If you want to help, ask for help, okay?  Take my offer for help, let me give advice, let me get away from it all, alright?”

“I will, but tell me- swear, Matthew, if things aren’t better in the next twenty-four hours…”

He was already shaking his head.

“Go?” she asked.

“What about three days?” Pipes asked.  “Or seven?”

“Maybe seven.  We’ll reassess,” Matthew said.  “Get going, Lucy, you’re already probably late.  I think I’m going to take time off work.  Not really up for it right now.”

She checked the time and frowned.  She walked up between two parked cars, waiting for traffic, and turned around.  “Doe, I’m asking you to do me a favor and look after Verona.  Make sure she doesn’t need backup, at least.  Pipes?  Look after Matthew.  That’s an order, or as much of an order as I can get away with giving, okay?  Is that okay?”

“You can give us orders,” Doe said.  Pipes nodded.  Doe added, “Okay.”

Lucy nodded.

She checked for traffic and crossed the road, then headed to school.  She had to run, bag bouncing, the multi-layered skirt she was wearing feeling uncomfortable, but she made it before the bell.

“Verona!” she called out, as she saw a familiar dark-haired, so-scruffy-it’s-barely-a-bob bob.

The girl she’d called out to turned.

Not Verona.  Similar but different.

“Sorry,” she said.

“No problem,” was the reply.

Lucy had to pull out the planner with the schedule and check for her next class.  Head swimming, pity for Matthew crowding out all sorts of feelings, she couldn’t even feel as bad as she had about John and everything else.

To compound all of that, Verona didn’t come back to school that afternoon.

Next Chapter