Pale: 9.10 - Lucy
Author: Wildbow

Shaking Hands – 9.10 | Pale

Lucy sagged with relief as she saw Snowdrop making her way out, bounding across the clearing.

That relief died when she realized Verona wasn’t following.

Snowdrop almost skidded as she threw herself under a bit of foliage and became human as soon as she was clear of it, momentum carrying her another few inches as she landed on her rear end.

“Where’s Verona?” Lucy asked, prepared to strangle Snowdrop for not having already opened her mouth to say.

“She’s clear.  The furs aren’t in there so she ran for it,” Snowdrop said.

“The furs are-  Is she okay?”

“She’s super duper, same as usual.”

“Super duper?” Avery asked  Snowdrop nodded.

“Elaborate?”  Lucy asked.  “Please?”

Lucy and Avery exchanged looks.

“Place is clear, if you want to go in, no goblin traps, faerie plants, or scary glowing papers-”

“Papers?” Avery asked.

Snowdrop drew in the dirt with a fingertip.

“That’s fire,” Lucy noted.  “Movement.”

The drawing continued, with the Uranus sign.

“Orbit?  Proximity?” Lucy asked.

“It’s a trap,” Avery said.  “Boom.”

“What is she doing right now?””

“She’s okay.  Don’t worry,” Snowdrop said, smiling nervously.  “She made some runes and they’re going to make a lot of noise.”

Lucy reached for her mask, and her arm jerked in the sling, prompting a growl of annoyance.

“What are you doing?” Avery whispered.

“Right pocket, my compact.  I want to check on her.”

Avery slipped her hand into Lucy’s pocket and put it in Lucy’s right hand.  “What the heck is going on?  She was acting weird.”

Lucy thought back, trying to connect dots.  Weird detached cat Verona, now opposite-of-peak Verona?

Avery’s hand went out, touching Lucy’s arm, finger going to her lips.

At the porch, Edith stepped outside.  She was at the side of the house, and she had a semi-clear view of the open space between the denser woods where they were and the place they needed to get to.

Even as a fox or a shadow, Lucy’s movements might draw her attention.  Avery could black rope over, but then she’d be squatting at the back of the building, in earshot of Edith, and if Edith leaned slightly over the railing to her left she’d have a clear view of Avery.

Verona was still in there, surrounded by traps.

Lucy remained still, compact clenched in one hand, mask in the other, watching as Edith lit up a cigarette.

They couldn’t do anything much with practice, short of calling John and raiding the building, and even that could be a disaster if Verona was surrounded by explosion runes and goblin traps.

She turned her mind to Verona, everything that had happened- Verona had gone home to set up the protection.

Had Verona been too late?  Was she processing that?  Going for revenge?

No.  Lucy had to believe Verona would tell her and Avery, so she could protect her own family.

She recalled Verona earlier in the day.  They’d eaten breakfast with Booker, left, Verona had been wearing the shirt she’d packed, and it was too big, she’d had a glimpse of Verona’s dad, Verona had changed…

“Is it her mom?” Lucy asked, quiet.

“What?” Avery whispered back.

“Her dad told her to call her mom, and she wrote a reminder to herself on her hand.  Maybe she was procrastinating or she made the call because she had the phone in hand and… her mom said something?”

“Or did they go after Verona’s mom?” Avery suggested.

Lucy shook her head.  “I was thinking that, but for her dad.  She’d act different, whoever it was.”

Avery considered, then nodded.  “I don’t know what Verona’s mom is like.  Like her dad?”

“Remember the party?  Verona freaking out?  And after, I gave you the short version of what happened with her mom?”

“Her mom’s not like her dad, kind of the opposite,” Lucy murmured.  “She went the other direction, figuring her life out, with church, work, friends to have wine with, and Verona’s somehow, uh, not part of that figuring.”

“And it hurts Verona,” Avery whispered.

“I think she’s learned how to cope with her dad and she hasn’t had the chance with her mom because she’s not around.  I think her dad hurts her feelings just as much but she’s adapted.  Not with her mom.”

Avery nodded.  “You think she said something?”

Lucy winced.  “That’s my best guess.”

Lucy watched as Edith smoked, itching to get to Verona to figure that out.  Because having a guess about what was going on wasn’t the same as… anything else.  Verona becoming a cat like that and refusing to communicate was stirring some anxiety deep in her stomach.  A worry that had been there since Verona had confessed that she didn’t want to be human anymore.

That Verona could do that, go down that road, and stop being Verona anymore.

Something was wrong and she was way further down that road than Lucy had imagined she could be, in less than an hour.  Five or ten minutes to get home after they’d figured out the compass thing, thirty minutes to do the diagrams and organize, a bit of time, then the cat appearance, acting… opposite of peak Verona, as Snowdrop had said.

Lucy’s fingers picked at the sling she was wearing, leg bouncing a bit.

“You said she was calling someone about getting them to give her a ride?  Matthew?” Avery asked, indicating Edith.

“Yeah,” Lucy said.  She’d overheard some conversation.  Edith had unfortunately hung up a bit ago.  It would have been nice to get more information.

“How long do we have?”

“A few minutes?  Depends on how far away her ride is.”

“What happens if Verona’s still down there and she checks downstairs again?”

“Verona can just become a cat again,” Snowdrop said.

“She can’t?” Avery asked.

Snowdrop shook her head, hard.

“She was nearly out of glamour,” Lucy said.

“Not that either,” Snowdrop said.

“Not- what do you mean?”

Snowdrop started to answer, but then Edith turned their way, and all three of them froze, falling silent.  Edith turned on the spot, her back to them, and headed inside, closing the door behind her.

“Where’s she going?” Avery asked.  “Wasn’t she waiting for her ride?”

“Getting something?” Lucy asked.  Through the radiating tines of the earring, she could hear a door or large cupboard close.  “Door closed…”

She heard water trickling, like that from the sink into a bowl or…

She pulled the earring away from her ear.  “Bathroom.”

“Fantastic,” Snowdrop said.  “Oh, that’s really great for Verona.”

“Why- you really need to start elaborating more, Snowdrop,” Lucy said, feeling that urge to strangle again.

“Verona hasn’t messed with the water,” Snowdrop said, dead serious.

They moved, Lucy looking over her shoulder to check the truck wasn’t incoming.

To the back of the cabin, and the gap where they’d dug out a way in.  Lucy used her one hand to pull the mask on, tapping it between the eyes to provoke the diagram there.  She’d set it so the eyes would burn and illuminate.

She peered into the dark room, Avery crowding in beside her, and her eyes adjusted.

Verona, head bowed, hair wet, trickles of water streaming down one hand, crouched with one hand on the furs.  They were glossy and bright and all light seemed to catch on them and in them, making them glow almost from within, a deep red that was redder because of the light Lucy’s mask cast out.

Verona had seen that light.  She looked up at them with reflective violet eyes that caught the points of red from Lucy’s mask.  Water all over her body caught that same light.

Her expression… like Lucy’s mom had been, sitting on her bed when Paul had left.  In the nightmare, where Booker had just died.  Like John was, sometimes.

That isn’t a bad conversation with your mom, Ronnie.

The entire space was silent.  Lucy’s earring picked up next to nothing from the cellar area.  She had to communicate, but the gap she was peering through wasn’t wide enough.

“It’s on mute,” Avery murmured.

“I forgot to tell you that,” Snowdrop said.

As if reading Lucy’s mind as she thought about the next step, Verona pulled her hand away from the furs and indicated for them to stop, or to wait.  Hand flat and facing them.

She looked aside, then twisted the pipe.  Spraying water elsewhere.  She glanced back.

Going in would risk setting off stuff.  And she doesn’t want us to come in.

Lucy pulled at her necklace, got the weapon ring, and stabbed her finger through it.  The chain, still threaded through, scraped at the back of her finger.  She reached into her bag, digging-

A trick Verona had come up with, so very quickly after trying the ring.

The cape fluttered, and it became a weapon, a claw of fabric, the tips hard, but flexible.

The cloth snaked through, the hand reached out, and it gestured, pointing.

Edith had jigged the toilet handle and was wondering why it wasn’t refilling.  Footsteps…

Metal squeaked.  Hinges?  The faucet?

More footsteps.  Edith moving with purpose.

Verona nodded, turning her head to look, as if she could see through the floor or track the general direction Lucy was pointing.

Then Verona raised her hands, pulling one away from the damaged pipe.  Two index fingers pressed together.  Two thumbs touched, roughly in line.  A triangle shape.  Her hands stretched overhead, toward them, and her expression changed, her lips moved.

I don’t speak freaking Tashlit, you ninny!  She’s coming!  “What does she want?”

“Thorn,” Avery whispered.

Lucy moved, reaching into her bag, finding the Thorn in the Flesh, pressing it to the gap, and letting the weapon-ring-made-claw take it in between a pointed finger and thumb.  A hand she could use on the far side of the gap.

She’d used her own cape and her own cape wasn’t that long, so she had to toss it in Verona’s direction.

Verona caught it, and in the moment after catching it, turning away… there was no victory in her expression.  None of the usual excitement.

In a fluid movement, expression twisting, Verona both swiped at Lucy, urging her to go, and she leaped for the door, jumping straight from the table’s edge to the wooden ledge just beneath the doorframe and above the sea of sodden sawdust that was littered with bits of metal and papers.

There was a rune there, carved into the wood, and it was already moving, parts of it sliding apart, separating… and Verona stabbed the thorn into it.

Only parts of it moved, now.

Verona used the handle for balance, turned, and then jumped again.  She didn’t make it completely to the table, but she got a grip on the furs.  They weighed more than she did, and she was able to swing around… ducking.

Verona looked up at Lucy with wide eyes and dribbles of water running down her face, at the same time Avery pulled Lucy back and away, Avery practically got Snowdrop in a headlock, wrapping an arm around her neck, her other hand both punching out and grabbing at Lucy.

A leap, from the back of the property to the treeline.  Then again, leaving Lucy with a funny feeling in her gut that did not play nice with how her entire gut had clenched.

Lucy got her bearings.  They were at the trees on the side of the cabin Edith had been smoking at, looking at the porch, with a bit of a view of the back of the cabin, but more of a view of the front.

Edith tried the door, and it didn’t budge.

Good, Verona, that was good, quick thinking, but it doesn’t get you-

There was a flash of orange-yellow in Edith’s face, as if someone had taken a picture with an amber-tinted camera flash.

Lucy could barely complete the thought or wonder what that was before an eruption followed.  Flame and smoke punched out and Edith was thrown against the logs that bounded the steps down and kept dirt from flowing in and blocking the cellar door.

Avery’s grip on Lucy’s arm tightened so fiercely and suddenly in surprise and intensity that it hurt.  It coincided with the heavy slap sound that followed the image almost a second late, and preceded the wash of overly hot air that swept past them.  The grip was like the impact before the impact.  Birds cawed and life all around the area stirred in response.

It hadn’t sounded like it should, the slap too high and too sharp, the wash of hot air too faint even though it was low and came with a bit of the gravelly noise she associated with explosions.

Edith’s body banked off of those logs, flipped counter-clockwise when it felt like she should have flipped clockwise, and crumpled into the grass and foliage five feet away.

Avery stood and Lucy had to twist a full ninety degrees, lunging, to grab her, because Lucy’s right arm was in the sling.

Edith was down and out.  Maybe even dead, or badly, badly hurt.

But the Girl by Candlelight stood by the doorway, in the midst of the smoke, crouching, wounded, and out of sorts.  She’d dropped her candle, her upper body was gouged, and the gouge was bleeding wax.

The ground all around the cabin changed, as a circle swept out from around Edith.  It darkened, then a level of moisture rose, or the grass dropped into wet, reflective ground.  Black liquid.

Candle flames flickered on all around that ‘sea’ of shallow, less-than-an-inch-deep liquid, surrounded by the taller grass.  She sagged a bit, and the gouges in her body widened.

Like she was almost coming apart.

What did you do, Ronnie?  Did you kill Edith?  Is the spirit side of her going to fall apart?

Half of those candle flames immediately sputtered out.  The Girl by Candlelight picked up the candle that burned at both ends that she liked to hold across her shoulders, leaned on the logs that held the dirt back, then pulled away from those.  Smoke briefly obscured her, and the tall spirit with wax dripping down her body crawled up the stairs with staggering steps and one hand on the stairs above for balance.

Lucy was poised to act the moment it looked like Verona was, or if the Girl by Candlelight went on the offensive.

At the top step, the Girl by Candlelight used her candle like a walking stick, leaning on it, the burning end plunging into the shallow sea of black wax with its intermittent and struggling candles.  The burning end didn’t go out, but sputtered, spat, and smoked.

Lucy watched the smoke there and the smoke that rolled out the door.  She popped her compact open, smudged her finger, and then began drawing smoke, starting at her chin and going down her throat, shifting from the edge of her thumb to the wider thumbprint, to tip, then taking what was there and spreading it around her neck, adjusting her fingers in similar ways.  Smudge, finer trail, smudge, blot…

The Girl by Candlelight went to Edith’s body, and stooped over.  Wax running down the candle to her shoulder, down her arm, she applied wax to Edith’s body.  Doing her own work.

The glamour wasn’t working quite the way she wanted.  The glamour was grabbing onto the idea of branches and leaves, shadows left as the sunlight reached through.

The wind was blowing the other way.  Lucy leaned into Avery, whispering, “Take us around to the far side?”

Avery didn’t ask why, didn’t question.  She hugged Lucy, pulling Lucy off balance and into Snowdrop, leaning over them, then used the black rope, whipping it out.  As Lucy’s foot came down to catch her balance, they slipped to another place.  Avery jostled them, Lucy stepped more deliberately this time, and they moved again.

Lucy held out her hand, trying to ‘catch’ the smoke this time.  She moved her hand as the smoke moved, cupping it, catching it, sliding through the dark regions.

The leaves and branches imprinted on her skin shifted, darkened, and lost their color.  The first wisps of smoke blew through her hand.

“Follow me in if you can?  I need to check on Ronnie.”

Lucy ran her arm near the hand that was sticking out of the sling, catching the parts that were working and dragging them down her arm.  In the same way a zipper could be hauled down with enough force it could carry on a bit, the glamour did the same, accelerating, catching, and drinking from the compact.

She became smoke, and went diffuse, spreading out as much as she could.

The salmon swimming upstream, she had to flow one way while her overall being went toward Verona.  She existed as vaguely human-sized or human-shaped spaces in the smoke where it was thickest and darkest.

The smoke was already fading, so she had little time.

Dangerous to be smoke when it was so close to the Girl by Candlelight’s area of expertise, but the spirit was still recovering.  Smearing skin-toned wax over injuries.  Reaching into Edith’s chest, with wax and spots off flame bubbling out around the wrist.

Lucy reached the door, leaving Edith behind, and made her way in through the hole in the door.  The thorn wasn’t there anymore.

The table creaked as Lucy settled on the furs, the smoke coming away as she crouched.

The silence remained.  Verona had pushed stuff off the table, leaving room only for the furs, her bag, and herself.  She was hunched over, drawing.  Lucy could see dark staining at her hands, purple-black, with some blood, her eyes violet.

Scarier to see how the furs reacted.  Each line prompted them to stretch her way, strands reaching.  A stretch of flexible, raw hide with a still wet, still bloody underside flopped her way, then reached.  And she didn’t push it away.  Lucy pulled it back herself, instead.

How can I help you?  Lucy mouthed the words and they didn’t make a sound.  What do you need?

She reached for Verona’s bag, and Verona tensed.  Lucy froze, hand still extended down, smoke peeling off of her skin, her eyes glowing a soft red.

Verona looked at her, looked down at the bag, then looked back at her.

Verona made a gesture with her hand, quick and dismissive, leaning over slightly to peer at the door.

She’s recovering, Lucy mouthed the words.  She took the dismissive gesture as permission and reached for the bag again.

Verona didn’t stop her, turning away and resuming the drawing of the circle.

Lucy’s hands expected… not this.  Something like her own bag.  That she didn’t made her hesitate and pause.  Verona’s mask was broken.  There was- she tentatively reached deeper and she pricked a finger.  When she pulled her hand out, a sliver of broken glass was stuck in her fingertip.

She’d wanted chalk, to help draw, and she couldn’t- this was a mess.  If there was chalk in here it would be a nightmare to find.  Verona had found it.  Verona had come up with a game plan.  Verona was in a bad place.

Lucy’s own fingers stained with ink, and the glamour stole that darkness and made the smoke blacker.  The blood that welled from her pricked fingertip was swallowed, and the smoke took on a faintly metallic scent, increasing in volume.

You nearly killed her, Lucy told Verona.  You do this when things are bad, jumping to extremes.

Pressure gets applied and you… you come up with the Brownie plan for Bristow.  You put your face on Shellie and get her impaled by the nettlewisp.

What happened to your mask?

Lucy’s lips moved and Verona didn’t see or hear, her focus entirely on the diagram.

She glanced at Lucy, then broke the chalk in half, taking half and giving half to Lucy.  She pressed the opening of the bag shut and then pointed at the circle.

Lucy couldn’t draw the circle, but she could draw the part toward the center.  The teardrops, the craggy bits.  It was more artistic, and art wasn’t her vibe, not visual art, but the earring helped.  Bits splintered off of the sharp end of the chalk and left their own fine strokes and details.

Movement to Lucy’s right made her look- Avery was at the gap, and there wasn’t really room on the table.  The green, misty eyes peered through the crack, and Lucy watched as they widened, relaxed, then widened again.

She drew more hurriedly, and the ‘help’ was even more dramatic as the chalk broke and gave its own lines.  She could imagine how this would work with more offhand practice use, a rushed, simple thing that played nice with the earring.

Verona brought her hands down to the diagram.  An opening to the ruins.

The table broke, Lucy’s perch moved, and water flooded out around them, just as the Girl by Candlelight’s flame shone through the hole in the door.

“I don’t think this is a movie for kids,” Lucy said.  “Even if it’s a cartoon.”

The man on screen posed and roared and the outline around him flickered and distorted, the outline breaking apart and the whipping around, the colors of his skin bleeding into background.  His boy bits swelled, turned in a figure eight, knotted, and then exploded into a hundred sharp tentacles.  He ripped his way through the house, while the cyborg woman sprinted through the collapsing structure.

Verona leaned forward, fascinated, tracking the art, the motion, the fluidity of it.  It moved like no kids movie she’d ever seen.  She drank in the art, the newness of it.

She loved it.  Her heart was beating fast, and it was as unsafe and unpredictable as anything she’d seen, where any other animated movie felt like it moved by rules and if someone looked like they’d died they’d just need to be cried over and shaken awake and they’d wake up.

A tentacle shot through a wall, caught the cyborg woman’s arm, and snaked into and through it, making the metal tubes and parts bulge, flesh swelling inside it until it looked ready to break.

The arm exploded from within, from wrist to shoulder, taking part of her torso with it.  The tentacle with its razor point became a hand, and it grabbed the cyborg woman by the ruined chunk of machine torso.  An eyeball appeared in it, focusing on the inside of her chest, a mixture of metal and bleeding flesh.

“That’s a pretty little beating heart you’ve got there,” the man on screen said, walking over limp tentacles.  One tentacle-base shifted, sliding up his naked torso to his shoulder, merged with his arm, and became his arm, so he now reached with an elongated limb to the cyborg.  She pulled away and couldn’t break his grip.  He smirked.  “I intend to fuck it.”

“I don’t think this is a movie for most adults,” Lucy said, squirming.  Verona looked away from the screen, even though she didn’t want to, and saw Lucy bring knees to her chest, and the sofa-bed in Verona’s unfinished basement squeaked with the movement.  They were having a sleepover, and Lucy was wearing a nightgown with a cartoon character on it, and she’d braided her hair, not wrapping it up tonight.  The extra-wide sleeping bag they were sharing slipped down from Lucy’s lap to her feet as her knees came up.

Verona reached over, fixed the sleeping bag, and then shifted to sit closer to Lucy, hugging her a bit.  “I thought you liked horror.”

“I love weird.  It’s cool,” Verona whispered.  She reached over, took Lucy’s hand, and Lucy reached back, clasping the two hands with her other hand.  Verona had to break the hug to layer her hand.  All four hands now clustered together in between them.  Without the hug, they just leaned into one another, heads touching.

Verona felt Lucy twitch as the broken cyborg woman lunged, cutting tentacles that were reaching out of the arm.  She laughed.

Lucy huffed out a small laugh as well, in reaction to Verona’s laugh.

The cyborg woman ran across the room, tearing tentacles as she went, and she crashed into the big glowing computer.  Technology merged with the broken part of her body, and an arm formed.  Guns unfolded from her body.

The music picked up.  Orchestral and intense.  The demon guy and cyborg woman faced each other.

“I like this.  The music,” Lucy said.

“We can watch the credits and try to find who made it.”

Verona was happy, because that meant they were watching to the end, and she liked this, bundled together in the dark, having had way too much soda and junk food, watching something they shouldn’t, hands gripping one another’s hands and wrists so tight.  Verona squeezed tighter as things got cool and Lucy squeezed as they got scary.  Lucy kept jumping or tugging her arms as the big moments of action happened, which made things so much more hyped.  Verona leaned forward, her back not even touching the back of the sofa she was sitting on.

“Get him get him get him get him,” Lucy whispered.

Verona laughed, stifling the laugh.

“Hecking get him!” Lucy raised her voice, arms jerking, squeezing Verona’s fingers in her hand and her wrist in her other hand.

“Shhh!” Verona leaned harder into Lucy, and the shushing attempt dissolved into giggles.

The demon man thrust his pelvis forward and a huge pillar of flesh slammed out, like a firehose but it was one boy part, tearing through computers and walls until it crumpled, bent, surged enough to straighten out again-

Verona snuck a glance at Lucy and saw Lucy’s expression twisted in confusion and disgust, and then she leaned so hard onto Lucy that she collapsed entirely, face buried in Lucy’s arm to stifle her own laughter over her best friend’s reaction.

They were in the ruins.  Water fell in a faint summer rain, and the light shone, bright and warm, in pillars that glowed, brightened, and were so intense that they seemed to erase stretches of building and tree.  It was hard to tell what was Lucy being temporarily blinded and what was this place.  Everything was pretty and broken and hard to look at because things were made of lighter materials or sun-bleached and they caught the light that came- not from any sun, but from omnipresent brightness.  As if everything was reflecting light from somewhere but there was no origin.

Verona knelt, soaking wet, a puddle beneath her that was growing roughly in equal volume to how much the light and warmth round her was evaporating it.  Ink and a few trickles of blood ran down her arms to the puddle.  The partially intact cube of furs sat just behind her.

Lucy found her feet, tested her footing on the ground, and the warmth of it reached through the sole of her sneaker to her foot, pleasantly and dangerously numbing.

She crouch-walked her way to Verona, who didn’t look up at her.

She found Verona’s hands, taking one, drawing it close to her chest.  Verona didn’t fight, but she didn’t help either.  Putting Verona’s hand in the hand Lucy held in the sling meant holding it so the back of the hand rested against her heart.  Lucy gripped it, tight, then gripped the two hands with her other hand.

Verona reached up, and laid her other hand over top.  Her fingertips dug into the back of Lucy’s hand.

Lucy had had so many questions and now she struggled to find words.

They remained like that.  Drying off, the warmth beating down.

There was a sound of water.

Lucy twisted her head around, half-expecting Edith.

Avery.  She was muddy, which suggested she’d taken a shortcut through the Warrens, and she was damp, which suggested she’d either gone to the wet cellar beneath the cabin or she’d cut through the rainy part of the ruins to get here.  Avery advanced a step, then hesitated.

Avery followed the direction of the jerk, approaching.  She gingerly got to her knees, paused, then reached beneath their hands and up, placing her hand around back.  Lucy adjusted her grip, folding her hand over Avery’s.  Avery’s hand went on top of Verona’s.

Behind her, Snowdrop sat down on the pile of furs.

And Verona let out a shuddering breath.

“If I hadn’t promised you guys I’d ask first, I might’ve tried to wear the furs,” Verona stated.  No emotion in her voice.  Fact.

“Good thing you promised, then,” Avery said.  “I don’t think that would have gone well.”

“I look better in black or stripes than red,” Verona muttered.  “Yeah.”

“You think that’s the key thing, Ronnie?” Lucy asked, squeezing their hands together.  “Color coordination?”

“Helped me keep my promise to you guys,” Verona said, quiet.

“Okay,” Lucy said, nodding.

“Had to chase some bad ideas out of my head.  Streams of thinking about how I could make a pronouncement, no, bad idea, color coordination, I don’t ever wear red, how could I wear the furs.”

“The challenges would follow, right?  But it’d be easy if I had the furs, apparently, and I’d be strong, we’d flip the tables on the Others.  So all it would take is an announcement.   I’m a protector of Kennet, a steward already, so I can announce myself as a steward.  Then no, no, can’t do that.  I want to look at cat pictures with Jeremy and draw pictures of his wang.”

“I wanna- I wanna feel like I can breathe again, like it’s all just done with and I’m apart from it all and I don’t have school assignments gnawing holes in my stomach, and this sucky feeling when I hear the door slam and my dad’s home, or the doubts creeping in when I’m trying to meet new Others and figure them out, or the deadline of the end of summer… and if I wore the furs or did something then I could… I could take a deep breath again.  I could sit in the sun.”

“There would be so many more shitty responsibilities,” Lucy said.  “Like school deadlines but worse.  The Carmine throne means sometimes dealing with violent Others who hurt people.”

“Yeah, so I… I followed up thinking like that with thinking about you guys, and I want to have a sleepover again, and find the worst, most inappropriate, weirdest things to watch, and maybe laugh like we did, then.  I thought about that.  I had that memory but I forgot what it felt like, then, until we went through it, again.”

“What’s going on, Verona?” Avery asked.

“The stuff in her bag is broken.  I- I wish you’d used the opening of the Ruins to show me what happened,” Lucy murmured.

Verona’s shoulders drew together a bit.  The tension slipped out of Verona’s hands, not squeezing anymore.

Lucy continued, “But I get why you didn’t, if it hurts.  I’m- I’m really glad you pulled that scene.  A sleepover, watching a sketchy anime on late night TV.  You were laughing, you were having fun.”

That last bit was for Avery’s benefit.  Filling her in.  Even if it felt like it was simultaneously shutting her out.

“I think of that a lot when I think of what it means to be a friend or a best friend.  I don’t think a friend would’ve stuck it out with me.  You guys stick it out with me, through all the messy stuff.”

“Yeah,” Avery said.  “But what’s the messy thing right now?  Can I ask?”

“Did he- was there anything… inappropriate?” Lucy asked.  She didn’t get that vibe, normally, but she had no idea why Verona was this off, this on edge.

Lucy wanted to feel relieved but she couldn’t bring herself to, because it was so obvious things weren’t okay.  It was like seeing Snowdrop and being relieved but then Verona hadn’t followed.  Even the tactical moves Verona had made had… none of it had made Lucy feel better, because it just swapped concern for Verona’s safety with concern over how far Verona was going.

She wanted to ask follow up questions but it felt like it would only hurt Verona.  She wished there was a guidebook for this sort of thing.  Talking to someone in a bad place.

“How the heck did you make that explosion?” Lucy asked.  Because Verona liked practice and it was a distraction for her.

“The thorn makes practices get stuck on, and makes them hurt, until you go and find it.  So I used it to stick the part of the diagram that controlled for who was at the door.”

“I don’t think I could come up with some of this stuff if I had a full day to think about it,” Avery said.

“We all have our strengths,” Verona said, not making eye contact with either Lucy or Avery.  “We’ll need them.  They’re going to come after the furs.  We know they can access the Ruins.”

“Edith is burned but healing fast,” Avery said.  “She didn’t seem to act like she knew it was us.  She called- someone, I couldn’t hear, but I’m pretty sure she didn’t see any of us.”

“Good,” Verona said.  her hands pulled free of the knotted tangle between the three of them.  “Good, okay.”

“I don’t think things are good or okay, Ronnie.”

“Edith was saying she wanted to make an appearance later.  I think they were taking turns watching the furs.”

“I heard.  But is that the priority right now?”

“Yes,” Verona said, “I think it should be.”

“What’s your line of thought?” Avery asked.  “Let’s discuss, then decide what we’re doing.”

“We need to make our appearance,” Verona said.  “If they can’t reveal they know about the furs, then they can’t really ask us if we have them.  So we, or some of us, should go out, and deal with Melissa, or the invaders.  Do our job.  And we also hide the furs, or put them out of reach somehow.”

“There’s a lot about that that’s sensible,” Avery said.  “But-”

“But what about you?” Lucy asked.  “Because you’re not okay.”

“I’m- not,” Verona got stuck halfway through the admission.  “I’m dealing.”

“How?  Because… the plan?  That’s good, except it hinges on us making an appearance and not giving anything away-”

“I was thinking you guys would make your appearance and I’d make a run for it with the furs.”

“That you can’t carry?” Lucy challenged her.

“Easy,” Avery cut in.  She gestured hands out, motioning down.  “Easy.”

“I’m inventive,” Verona said.  “And if you used glamour you could create an image of me.  That might throw them off the scent.  Just don’t do it close to Maricica.  She’s sorta shady and she’d see right through it.”

“We’re getting stuck on tangents, Ronnie,” Lucy said.  She saw Avery lift a hand, and she nodded in response.  More gently, she said, “I want you to be okay.”

“I’m not okay,” Verona said.

“Alright, sure.  And you want to focus on this?”

“Alright,” Lucy said, voice soft.  “My worry is you… you didn’t go berserk but you definitely jumped into that cellar and… operated on instinct?  Is that right?  This is like that cyborg woman tying into the mainframe and going all out on the penis demon.”

“From the Ruins portal.  Sleepover memory.”

“What the frigging kind of sleepovers were you guys having?”

Verona smiled.  “I like that.”

The light in this part of the ruins brightened around them.  Lucy shifted position, unsure if the ground would disappear beneath them.

Lucy explained, “It’s similar.  Being cold, leaning on her training, everything else stripped away just… the dangerous instincts left.”

“Good instincts,” Avery said.

“Risky instincts,” Lucy replied.  “But yeah.  We’re here.  Furs are here, Edith’s alive, luckily.”

“Yeah,” Verona said, smiling a little.  “Just… don’t want to think too hard, don’t want to feel too hard, so there’s just…”

“Doing?” Avery asked.  “Being in the zone?  I get that.”

Verona nodded, smile dropping away.

“What happened?” Lucy asked.

There was no emotion in Verona’s voice, her eyes darting around, searching the environment, as if she could find a way out of the conversation.  “My dad flipped.  Screamed at me, he said he’ll turn off my phone and most of the time he doesn’t punish me but it’s so petty I think he might do it, if he hasn’t already.”

“Okay.  I’m so sorry, Ronnie,” Lucy said.

Verona’s head drooped a bit.

“I can’t get through to him.  I scream and he doesn’t react anymore, he just screams back now.  I… there are no words I can say that’ll actually change anything, except practice, and I don’t think I can do that.  I pushed and he- he broke my stuff.  My bag.”

Lucy reached over for the bag.  Verona tensed again, relaxed, and Lucy dragged it over to her side.

“Oh,” Avery said, very quiet, as the individual pieces came out.

“I’m done.  I mean-” Verona’s voice cracked and she stopped.

“Ronnie, it’s okay to cry, if you need to-”

“No,” Verona shook her head.  “Because then he wins.”

“Verona, hey, if you don’t then you might lose, you know?” Lucy asked.

“I lost, though!” Verona raised her voice.  She stood, and Lucy reached out, trying to take her hand, and Verona pulled away, stepping back.  “I lost!  I said I’m done and I mean-”

Lucy got to her feet too.

“-I don’t know what I’m supposed to do but if I go back I’m worried I- I’m done.  I, me, my Self, done for.  He doesn’t budge much at all so the only thing that budge or change if I’m there is me.”

Her voice cracked again, and for a moment Verona looked really angry at herself.  Like her own voice cracking was the most infuriating part of things.

“Is there a compromise?” Avery asked.

Verona laughed, and it was almost a mean laugh.  “With my dad?”

“With us,” Avery said.  “What if one of us went with you, and one of us made an appearance downtown, dealing with Melissa and the invader?”

“I want to be alone.  I need to process.”

“I’m worried about what happens if you’re alone,” Lucy said.  “I’m worried because you just told us about this conversation you were having with yourself and I’m worried the other argument could win.”

“The facts haven’t changed.  I’d look terrible in red and there’s you guys and there’s Sir and Jeremy’s fun.”

“And the facts haven’t changed,” Avery said, “that they can access the ruins and they might track us.  We’d need to move or find an actual hiding place.”

“I can draw the privacy runes,” Verona said.  “I just need to find a good spot.”

Lucy hesitated, looking at Avery.

“This is… almost too much,” Verona said, quiet.  “Us three, here, talking about this.”

“Too much?” Avery asked.

“I don’t want us to be too much for me.  Because that’s scary.  So I need to be alone.”

She wished she got it, just why this had hit Verona so hard, but… it was more important to make sure Verona was okay.

Lucy conceded, “Okay.  Maybe.  But Snowdrop goes with you.  She’s not Sir but she can stay in animal form, you can pet her, and that’s way freaking better than the mental picture I have of you in a funk, petting the furs and thinking of bad options.  Pet Snowdrop instead.”

Verona looked at Snowdrop.

“I don’t think I can make that sacrifice,” Snowdrop said.  “I’ll bug you about everything.”

“She knows a bit about how to navigate Ruins,” Avery said.

Verona nodded, not taking her eyes off of Snowdrop.

“And I’d need promises,” Lucy said.  “Please.”

“What promises?” Verona asked.  She met Lucy’s eyes for what felt like the first time in minutes.

“That you won’t hurt anyone.  Because you hurt people too much when you’re under pressure.  That you won’t do anything drastic.”

“What do I do then?  Run, evade, deflect?” Verona asked.  “Tricks?”

“Yes.  And stay in touch.  Don’t disappear on us,” Avery said.

“I can do that,” Verona said.

“And we figure out a game plan for after.  You come to my house, after, if your phone doesn’t work.  But this isn’t – you’re not done, okay?  This isn’t the end of the line.  So you can’t go leaping into making decisions or doing anything drastic.”

“I already said I wouldn’t.”

“We made our own promises,” Lucy said, taking a step to the side so she was shoulder to shoulder with Avery.  “Okay?  So stay safe, stay healthy, be smart.  And trust.”

For a moment, Verona’s expression went back to what it had been earlier.  Her eyes dropped to her bag.

She bent down, got a fragment of her mask, and passed it to Lucy.  She went into her bag, and her hand came out with black fingers and a little glass jar with a black screw-on top.  Her fingers slipped on it on the first attempts at unscrewing it, so she used the bottom of her shirt, probably ruining it.

She pulled out hair, and pressed it into Lucy’s hand.  “For the illusion.  You need to bring a copy of me out there.  Here.  I’ve got opossum hair, let me…”

“I’ve got opossum hair,” Avery said.  “I could run the little lint remover brush over myself for an hour and I could probably find stray hairs in places.”

“Okay,” Verona said.  She remained crouched by her bag.

“Keep away from any trouble.  This works best if you don’t get seen,” Lucy said.

Verona nodded.  “Put on a good show.”

Verona smiled, and it looked genuine.

Lucy wished it was reassuring, but so little about all of this was.  It felt like trading one anxiety for another, one bad feeling for another.

She looked at Verona, and she shook her head.  She felt like… she needed more of a commitment than the promises and plans they’d made.  Because things felt that bad.

She looked at Avery for help and found nothing.

But there was a spark of an idea.  “Ronnie?”

Verona nodded, still crouched by her bag.

“I think we owe Avery a sleepover with a stupid, inappropriate movie or something.  Another laugh, like that one.”

Verona nodded.  Then, just for a moment, there was a sparkle in her eye.  “We could rewatch that movie.”

“You want to rewatch it?” Lucy asked.

“And see her reactions?” Verona asked, smiling a bit.

“What am I in for?” Avery asked.

“Sure, Ronnie, let’s,” Lucy said.

Verona straightened, picking up her bag.  She reached out for Snowdrop, putting a hand on her head.  “Go.”

“You’re going to be able to move that thing?” Lucy asked.

“I figured I’d ask for help,” Verona said.  She looked over to the side.  There was an echo.  “I’ll figure it out, somehow.”

“I believe you,” Lucy said.

Avery tapped the back of Lucy’s wrist with her hand.  Lucy looked at her, then nodded.

“We have to go down from this part of the Ruins,” I think,” Avery said.

And they broke away, leaving Verona to figure it out, guarded by Snowdrop.

It didn’t feel like the move was good, leaving Verona, but if Snowdrop was there it at least felt okay.

They found their way, navigating this bright, warm place with fleeting echoes that didn’t stay for long, even if it was the kind of place that invited people to stay.  As if to hint at the darker side of this place, Lucy saw thin, washed-out echoes with drug paraphernalia.  She saw echoes that were bleached out, worn away by the brightness of the light from all around.  Worn thin.

It wasn’t hard to find the way down.  Spots of darkness led to spots of further darkness.  Warmth gave way to wet, to soft droplets that dripped from the humidity of the place, then to more summer rain, then just rain, just darkness.

Avery touched Lucy’s wrist, and they paused.

The ground was wet, further ahead, but the wet wasn’t water.

Liquid wax.  With a small candle sitting in a bowl, floating atop it.

Lucy peeked, and she could see the origin of that wax.  A figure, making its way into the Ruins.  It started as an echo, a girl with black hair, holding a lighter, burns all down her arms, her expression dark, in a very different way to how Verona’s had been dark.

The spirit was making its way through.  An outline, a shadow.  There was more to the Girl by Candlelight in the reflection in the wax than there was in the space above the surface.  The candle flame didn’t suffer for the amount of rain, here.

She’s a complex spirit.  Multiple spirits and echoes and maybe a bit of elemental, all wrapped up together.  It’s how she travels the Ruins, Lucy realized.

Avery pulled off her bag and held it out to Lucy.  Lucy took it, and held it while Avery went inside.

The two of them tried not to make much noise, not letting anything splash, keeping their foot movements limited.

Avery got salt, then spell cards.

Avery reached up and touched Lucy’s eyelids.

So she can use the black rope.  Lucy’s earring tracked Avery’s faint movements, the careful footsteps that minimized splashes, minimized brushes against the leafless branches or the crumbling buildings with more nooks, crannies, gaps, and dark shadows than anything in their home reality.

“Hello?” the echo called out, in a voice that wasn’t Edith’s, nor the Girl by Candlelight’s.  Then, in a complete other voice, that actually matched Edith’s in cadence and confidence, she said, “I hear you.  Show yourself.”

Edith stepped through the wax pool, and Lucy could hear the liquid popping where it splashed hot against cold water.  She could hear it squeeze out beneath boot soles.

She moved, herself, to keep fragments of walls and bits of leaning wood between herself and the Girl by Candlelight.

Avery had crossed the street, putting distance between herself and Edith.

The bomb she’d made was like a grenade, in size, in effect, but it hadn’t been thrown.  Instead, gently placed, it went off near the echo of the Girl by Candlelight, as she went looking for her lurking stalkers.

The spiritual influence faded, candles flickering, snuffing out, and the wax slipped away, back the way it had come, as the echo collapsed, wounded, and the spirit retreated to its host.

We might need to change that binding we planned, Lucy thought, if she’s this complicated, this many things all bundled together.  Counter her as an echo, as several spirits, as elemental, maybe, as human, and everything else.

Avery splashed in the water as she stepped closer.  “Got her.”

“Good one.  Let’s get out of here, show our faces.”

They traced their way to the exit they were most familiar with.  The one Jessica had led them to.  Under the highway.

The doorway seemed more open, now.  Was that because this place was so traveled?

It was late in the day, and they only had an hour or so.  There was some distance from here to the rendezvous point where the invaders had been tracked to, but that was okay, because they needed to dry off from the Ruins.  They needed to put on a brave face, and they needed to look like they were focused on this job, with Melissa, three invading Others, and everything else.

“Do you want to build a Verona now, out of glamour?” Avery asked.

“After.  We should split up some.  That way it looks less weird if we’re paired together and Verona isn’t around.  We’ll time when ‘she’, fake Verona, shows up,” Lucy said, “Show her to people who can’t see through illusion, if we can.”

“Thank you for helping with Verona.”

“For sure.  I’m going to flank, but I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

Toward downtown.  Toward where Melissa had last been seen.  Avery moved along rooftops, down among trees, black roping around as much as the bystanders and other people around them were able to.

What the heck are we going to do with those furs?  Lucy wondered.

What are we going to do with Verona?

She touched her phone in her pocket and considered pulling it out, but… what would she even say?

The more she thought about it, the worse she felt for Verona.  The look on her face…

Anger at Verona’s dad surged, then faded, lacking its target.

“My dear, I love your hair and earring,” a woman said, as Lucy passed.

The woman made a small, amused sound.  Lucy took another look at her, checking first for the watch, any issues with the nose, scars on the hands…  None of that was present.  She was tall, slender, fifty but wearing ‘fifty’ in a way that was attractive, with a light dress that looked like it should be see-through or immodest but wasn’t and almost admonished Lucy for thinking in that direction, and perfume that should have been overpowering but was actually tasteful…

She saw the woman’s shadow.  It wasn’t human.  It looked more like two very different insects in a fight with one another.

The woman made another amused sound.  “That took you longer than I thought it would.  Preoccupied?”

“A bit.  Invaders, among other things.”

“Nearly every local Other who can venture into public is out here, searching.”

“Nearly?” Lucy asked, knowing she was testing things, thinking of Edith.

“I can’t speak for the invaders, but they can be called local,” Maricica said.

“Lis is out there,” Maricica said, pointing.

There was a group of older teens hanging out and talking, some babysitting their younger kids.

Lucy couldn’t begin to tell which one was Lis.  It was a process of elimination, removing the ones who stood out.  But that removed four or five of ten.

“Matthew’s out too.  So is John, and so is the sun-touched oaf.”

Maricica tittered, at some observation or in response to something Lucy had said or conveyed but hadn’t meant to.

“Where’s Melissa?” Lucy asked.

“That way,” Maricica said.  “I’m going this way.”

They separated.  Maricica looked like she was enjoying herself, sauntering a bit.

Lucy walked a few blocks before she saw a glimpse of Guilherme, twenty or so, skin a light brown, hair short, strong chin, muscular.  He looked like a snowboarder out of season, and he mingled in a way Maricica hadn’t been.  Easily, naturally, conveying in a single chuckle glance around the group that he’d already won them over.

I hope you’re doing okay, Ronnie.  I don’t think we stopped Edith for any length of time.  Just… knocked her back out of the Ruins for a short bit.  She’ll regroup and come.  Or someone that’s supposed to be out here will track you.

Our job… to start with, we need to distract, get their attention, convince them.  Let them freak out about the furs being gone.

We’ll work on getting the upper hand, getting stable again.

That went for other things than practice.

She pulled out her phone, then she found the number she wanted to call.  Her fingers didn’t cooperate, and she missed the number, almost dialing the wrong one.  She kept her finger pressed down, slid it to the right place, and sent the call.

Her mom’s voice, soft, reassuring.

“Hey mom,” Lucy said.  The emotion in her own voice caught her off guard.

“What’s wrong?” her mom asked, and she sounded so instantly worried that it made Lucy almost regret calling.  While Lucy regrouped, trying to find the words, her mom asked, “Is everything okay?”

“Sorry, um… I’m fine.  Um…” she swallowed.  “Verona’s not.”

“Does she need to spend the night?”

“Yes, maybe, I-” Lucy hesitated, stopped.  She shook her head, took a deep breath.  “It’s pretty major, I think.  I don’t entirely get it but I don’t think Avery and I can make it better ourselves.”

“Come home, bring Verona, bring Avery.  We’ll work it out, okay?”

“I think Verona needs a bit of space for right now.  There’s some messy stuff to deal with.  But… after?”

“Um, sure honey.  I’ll be on the edge of my seat until you walk in the door, but I’ll trust you there, okay?”

“Thank you.  Thanks so much.”

“Okay, hon.  Is there anything you can tell me?  Do you need me to talk to Brett?”

Silence stretched forward.

“Okay, bye.  I love you so much.  Take care of her.”

Lucy struggled to find a response that didn’t feel hollow when she’d left Verona with Snowdrop.

Even ‘okay’ felt like it could be a bit of a lie.

“Bye.  Love you too.”

Had to tackle this.  Had to get this all figured out, distracting, studying the culprits, finding the invaders.  Maybe helping Melissa… somehow.

Circling closer to the destination Matthew had texted her, she saw Matthew himself, walking down the street.

Taking a deep breath, she approached.

“There you are,” he said.

“Verona had some serious family issues, we were delayed.”

“Is she going to be okay?”

“You should see her around,” Lucy said.  “If everything goes okay.”

He nodded, looking around.  “Goblins are tracking your schoolmate.  Last seen that way… and the compasses…”

Lucy had nearly forgotten.  She pulled out the compass and held it.

It took a few seconds to settle on its target, and it was a bit wobbly after.  Pointing the opposite direction to where Melissa was.

Her heart pounded.  From proximity to Matthew, from the deception, from circumstance with the invaders, and now the compass was slow.

“Yeah, okay,” Matthew said.  “A bit shaky.  Odd.”

“It’s an apartment building.  Can you three handle Melissa, then back us up?”

“I can try my best, but I can’t promise anything.”

“Good,” Matthew said  “Edith’s sitting this one out, she called, she’s feeling less than stellar.  She doesn’t get sick often, but… when it rains it pours.”

“If it gets dark, we run the risk that the invaders can really step up their game, let their new friend from the highway free to do whatever it is it does.”

“Yeah.  So we want to do this before it gets dark.”

“If it comes to that, the ghouls and goblins come out to play, we’ll see about using Ken or Jabber to keep civilians out of the way.  We need the invaders dealt with tonight.  Especially if they’re plotting to bring in friends,” Matthew said.

Lucy nodded.  She looked over and up and found Avery at the roof.  Snowdrop, or an illusion of Snowdrop, stood beside her.

Avery had her phone to her ear.  Calling… Lucy could guess.  Calling for the same reason Lucy had called her mom.

“Good luck to you three, be safe,” Matthew said.

“Same, I guess,” Lucy said.

They parted ways.  Matthew going to deal with the invaders, Lucy to Melissa, Avery and fake Snowdrop up on rooftops, taking weird side paths, still on the phone.

An all hands on deck situation.