"So, you're all right?" he said for the tenth time.
"Mm-hm." I stared at my knees. Lockwood reached out to pat my back, but I shifted away. After a moment of hesitation, he put his arm back down. "You know," he said, "we need to find a way to get back up top; George will be having kittens up there.:
"George… is he okay? The others…"
"Fine. George is fine."
"And… and Holly?"
"Good. Good… A little bashed up. We all are. They all went to find medics for Bobby Vernon. Kipps was going to try to contact Barnes. I left George in charge of it all when I climbed down the hole after you."
"You shouldn't have done it," I muttered.
"Come off it," Lockwood said. "You know I'd die for you." He chuckled. "Heaven knows, I've come near it often enough. Scrambling down a crack in the ground is nothing…"
"You shouldn't have done it!"
He broke off, looking at me in surprise.
I winced at the harshness of my voice. "Sorry."
"It's fine," he said, dismissive. "It's been a hectic night for everyone… You're shaking. Here, take my coat. I insist."
I didn't argue. There'd been enough of that tonight. And the coat was warm.
We sat in silence for a while. I thought about how I'd stirred up the Poltergeist. I thought about how I'd been drawn in by the Fetch. And I thought about what it said. "Hey… Lockwood," I said cautiously, "You don't think that ghosts can show you the future… Do you?"
Lockwood fixed me with his dark eyes. "No," he said. "Why do you ask, Luce?"
"Oh. No reason."
He frowned. "Speaking of ghosts, what did the Fetch look like? I only saw it from the back, a horrible tangle of black wisps." Lockwood glanced at the spot where it had floated, then continued, "I heard you talking to it. Did it look like Ned Shaw as well?"
"Er, well, not really."
"How did it appear to you?"
"Um. Like you. Actually."
Lockwood looked at me, surprised. "Like me?"
I couldn't meet his gaze. It wasn't easy for me to speak of the Fetch to him. "Yeah. But with… a gash. In your chest. And you were… you were dead." I laughed weakly. "That should have been my first clue. No matter how much danger we're in, we both always make it out somehow, don't we?" He was still staring at me, and I in turn stared at the floor quite intently.
A long sigh, then I heard Lockwood mumble, "Weird."
"What?" I asked.
I sensed his gaze shift to the ceiling, which sparked my curiosity. I stole a glance at him as he said slowly, "Remember…. when I checked up on you and Holly earlier? I wasn't doing that… randomly. I had encountered the Fetch briefly, beforehand."
I kept silent, wanting to ask but suddenly not wanting to know.
"It looked like you, Luce. Except you were transparent. Like a ghost."
My hands had gone cold.
"So you can understand why I was a bit anxious when we met up then."
"Right." I stood, shrugging off his coat. It suddenly felt stifling, and I was eager to leave. "There were two tunnels back there. One of them was blocked off… Should we try the other first, or attempt the climb up the hole?"
Lockwood stood as well. "Wait, Luce…"
Pretending to not have heard, I forged ahead. Curse Lockwood and his long legs, he kept up easily. "Lucy," he said, more firmly this time. The scramble up would be tedious, far too slow; I went for the tunnel, water pooling around my feet as I walked.
I heard Lockwood splashing behind me. His hand came down on my shoulder. "Lucy, hold up for a second."
"For what?" I pulled away. "Let's hurry up before George begins to freak out. Besides, if we take too long… Didn't you notice the room? The disturbances? Let's get him to look before the DEPRAC kicks us out." I was rambling, but to my relief Lockwood paused.
"That's true," he conceded, frowning.
I plunged ahead, the water rising to our knees, then higher, until the pale morning light began to filter through the opening ahead.
It's face remained before me. It's words echoed in my ears. When I sat down with the others, and still more when I lay on my own in the quiet of my room, I could not escape the vision of the other Lockwood. I could not rid myself of the hollow boy.
And yet… Lockwood's words also lingered. It looked like you, Luce.
I tried to convince myself that it was because I tended to get into trouble more often than not, and since he worried about me, the Fetch chose that form. This flimsy argument did not keep me from avoiding any time alone with Lockwood since then.
When they decided to have a feast in the kitchen, George making a run to the market to replenish our supply of food, I declined.
I was sitting on my bed, alone in the attic, when the skull decided to comment on my dismal appearance. "You look like someone went and died. So what's up? You're being moodier than usual."
"Shut up."
A momentary silence, then, "Well. Aren't you nice. Can you at least take me downstairs? It's so utterly boring to just stare at you mope around. It's like watching - hey! Wait-!"
I snapped the lever shut, in no mood to make conversation with a grumpy, dead ghost.
Deciding the ghost was at least partially right - I was acting a bit mopey - I decided to see if there was at least cake left. Knowing George, probably not… But I doubted either Lockwood or Holly would let him eat it right away, and it was quite the monstrosity. There was hope.
As I was descending the attic stairs I saw Lockwood walking down the hallway in my direction. In an instant I regretted my decision to leave my room.
He spotted me and smiled. "Lucy! I was hoping to run into you. George was drawing quite the interesting diagram. Thought you should join in."
"Right. Okay." I stayed where I was. Lockwood stood as well, gazing at me expectantly.
It felt like hours passed, but it was likely only a minute.
"Er, I think it would be best if we went right away."
"Of course," I agreed, but I still didn't move.
Eyes filled with concern, Lockwood took a step closer. "Are you all rig…" He stopped abruptly as I took a step back.
"Just fine, just fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Yep."
"Is this about what I said in the King's Prison?"
"Nope." But my voice shook slightly, and we both heard it. Lockwood sighed. "Lucy…" With quick steps he strode toward me, placing a hand on my shoulder. I fought not to trembled as he studied me. "If it bothers you so much, I won't ever say anything like that again. Okay?"
As he looked at me, all I could see was empty eyes and empty mouth, blood seeping through his shirt…
I blinked.
Just Lockwood, alive and well and - and waiting for an answer. "Sure," I managed. I stepped past him, heading towards the kitchen. I heard Lockwood open and close the door to his room, as if he forgot something; in a split-second decision I veered off course.
I went back up to the attic. Locking the door, I turned to my supplies; iron would be best, but would it work correctly? I'd never done this before.
Tearing the silver necklace Lockwood gave me off my neck, I looped a necklace of iron chains in it's place. Letting it dangle, I went to work moving a stool below one of the rafters; then I tied the end of the chain around the wooden beam. Tugging at it, I figured it should hold.
Killing yourself is a surefire way to come back as a ghost, so I took all the precautions. Not only did I hang myself with iron, but I had laid a circle of filings around myself beforehand.
It never occurred to me that what was most precious to me was not my body.
"Welcome to being dead, Lucy. Never thought you'd kick the bucket so soon… and so literally. Suicide? Really?"
…
"By the way, you're killing Lockwood and George. Thought you'd want to know."
…
"Have it your way. Oh, there goes a bit of Lockwood's coat! Can't say I'll miss it. And - was that a finger?"
…?
"False alarm. Just George's glasses. I do hope you kill him first. I still haven't gotten over that one time in the bath…"
…up…
"Oh? You conscious yet? Might want to do it a bit faster. Not that I'm complaining."
…shut up…
"That's rude! And after all I've done for you. Fine, I won't talk anymore then. I'm rooting for their deaths, anyway."
What… what are you talking about?
"Poor Lucy. Try opening your eyes."
For a moment, I didn't understand what he meant. Eyes? Then I remembered, and then I looked out at the world.
Just in time for Lockwood to cut my hands off.
To be fair, my hands were just plasm in the form of hands. And they were reaching out for him in a rather disturbing manner. But it still made me jerk back, especially when George lunged forward with his own rapier extended. Instead of taking a step back - since I didn't have legs - my whole being retreated.
Breathing hard, George kept a wary eye on me as he admonished, "I told you it wasn't safe! Just because her body is surrounded by iron - obviously we need to find the actual Source!"
"I know! I know!" Lockwood ran a frustrated hand through his hair.
My first instinct was to call out to the two of them.
Then I realized they wouldn't be able to hear me.
"Of course they wouldn't. What did you expect?" The skull made a face at me, sneering, "You really don't think things through, do you?"
But… my body should have been my Source…
The skull rolled it's eyes. "Anything else precious to you?"
My gaze fell on the diamond necklace lying abandoned on the desk. "Stupid," I faintly heard the ghost mutter, but I was no longer listening. The thin chain was made of silver. Was it possible for something like that to be a Source? I could think of no alternative.
Lockwood was staring at me. "Wait. Something's different about Lucy," he said, putting a hand in front of George.
Of course. Even if he couldn't hear me, he still had excellent Sight; better than George and I. He could see me exactly as I saw myself.
I felt around my throat where the thick chain manifested. I guess I couldn't change my shape. I'd never be free of it now.
