With thanks to those still taking the time to read and more importantly, for submitting a review. Over the past eighteen months plus, every one of them has been read, digested and most importantly, appreciated. It has helped to keep this gigantic fic going to its conclusion. This is the penultimate chapter. Hal finally has his revenge...

All errors are my own and unintentional. As always, i'd love to hear what you think.


Chapter Twenty Nine:

He stares at him for a long moment, quite unable to believe that he is here in this house. He waits for Edmund to lift his head to look up at him, for recognition to dawn. He waits for him to realise the danger of the situation that he is in. Despite himself, he feels the familiar fear begin to crawl through his senses. He remembers how weak it made him feel and the recalled terror holds him momentarily rigid.

"He can't hurt you Hal remember that. He can try but he'd fail," Robert quietly reminds him. Hal glances at him to see him standing upright. His white shirt is streaked with blood; it's smeared along his sleeves as well as dripping from his hands. Hal watches as he licks his fingers.

"You know that he speaks the truth, you're the one with the power now," Wyndam adds, coming to stand beside him. Hal looks at him. Wyndam holds out the roll of parchment that he has been holding.

"And look, you are a man of property now Hal…The Yorke Inn belongs to you." He pushes it into his hands. Numbly Hal unrolls it and looks down at it and sees that it is in fact the deeds to the property. He looks back at Wyndam in shock.

"This was your plan?" He sees Robert come to stand beside him and the older vampires regards him.

"He took everything from you, including your pride and your dignity. It is only fair to do the same to him," Robert responds evenly. Hal looks back down at the document for a moment before returning his attention to them both.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" he whispers. Wyndam pats his shoulder.

"Whatever you please Hal, the power of life and death is in your hands," he murmurs. He glances at Robert.

"It is time we took our leave and left Hal and his friend to be reacquainted; he has waited long enough for it." Hal remains rooted to the spot as they both depart. He turns his head and looks to the prone figure slumped in the chair.

He can hear him gasping for breath, beneath all of that gore and bruising Hal is surprised Edmund still lives. They have really taken pleasure in their torture judging by the blood staining his clothing, the bodily fluids puddled around his feet. He must have been scared senseless when he realised what they were.

He feels his head begin to ache and with the heel of one hand he rubs absently at the side of his head until it gradually fades away. Hal slowly smiles. He wishes he had seen that dread for himself, seen his terror with his own eyes.

He drags a chair from the opposite side of the room and places it opposite the barely conscious man. He sits down and he waits.


Hal watches him stir and observes with interest the moment Edmund becomes aware of his surroundings. He waits as he opens bruised eyes and fixes them upon him.

"Good evening," he greets calmly. Hal sees how he looks at him, trying to remember where he's seen him before. He pretends to pout.

"Don't you remember me old man? I should feel insulted." He keeps his voice calm and low. He watches how he blinks.

"You must help me…the gentleman of the house and his companions…they are abominable monsters and have injured me most grievously. They have robbed me and mean to kill me. Please sir, I beg of you," Edmund whispers in a hoarse, panicked voice. For a moment Hal doesn't say anything in reply, he just stares at him and then he smiles very softly and gently tilts his head to one side.

"Why do you think they did that hmm? Or more to the point who do you think they did that for?" Hal responds quietly, leaning forward in his chair. His smile disappears like mist exposed to sunlight "You still don't recognise me do you? Has it been that long? Have I really changed that much?" He waits and then he slowly smiles once more when he sees recognition begin to dawn.

"There you are. It's been a while old man."

"Hal?" Edmund whispers tremulously.

"In the flesh. Surprised to see me?"

"But…I heard rumours…you drowned yourself in the river…after…."

"After I what? Robbed you? Killed Lizzie? We both know I did neither of those things Edmund…I remember Rosemary with her light fingers…Tell me has she changed very much?" He shakes his head "Actually…no…don't tell me, I look forward to discovering that nugget of information for myself very soon," Hal gets to his feet and he reaches behind himself and he pulls the ever present knife from the back of his breeches.

"You didn't think that you would ever see me again did you? And if I'm completely honest then for a long time I didn't intend to return. Initially I just planned to survive and not die of cold, starvation or some unforgiveable disease. I did none of those as you can see; such was the remarkable gift that was bestowed upon me." He holds his arms out to the side as if to bow.

"Please….Hal…" Edmund wheezes and Hal sees the blood that bubbles onto his lips.

"Please what Edmund? Please help you? Why should I do that…how could I possibly benefit from helping you? You wouldn't help me, remember? In fact I seem to remember you did everything in your power not to…" He tightens his grip on the knife handle as he moves closer to him and crouches down in front of him. He can smell him, his fetid odour, his sourness and his greed. He can smell all of these and see much more. He can see his terror, the same emotion that he used to take great delight in creating in him.

"That emotion you're experiencing right at this moment? That pounding in your heart, that feeling that holds you prisoner…the sensation that if you weren't bound to that chair then you would be running for your life…do you know what that is?" He waits but Edmund doesn't respond instead he stares at him and all that can be heard is the sound of his quickened heavy breathing. Hal leans forward.

"That's fear," he whispers. "The same fear that held me prisoner every single day I was under your roof. You and those who paid you to abuse me. I lived with it every single moment, never knowing from one instance to the next when you swung your fists whether I would be alive at the end of that day. That last time just about did me in, do you remember that? Do you remember what they did to me, how many of them there were? You stood in front of that door while they beat me with their fists, while they each took their turn with me and left me on that bed bleeding, bruised, barely breathing…do you remember?" His voice trembles as the anger begins to flow through each word. He lets his eyes flood black and he smiles when he hears Edmund's gasp of terror, his fangs bright sharp and white.

"Have mercy…please Hal…" Edmund whispers as Hal presses the tip of the blade on the underside of his flabby chin.

"Mercy? You showed me none so why should I afford you any? " Slowly he draws the point of the blade down, scoring the skin as he does so. Bright red blood oozes in its path down to the hollow of his throat. He can see that his chest, arms and legs are criss-crossed in cuts, just deep enough to cause pain and blood loss but not deep enough to truly maim. Robert has had some fun this evening with him.

"The last time we met, you had your hands around my throat, intent on choking the life out of me. You would have succeeded if not for Lizzie, sweet Lizzie. I think of her once in a while and when I do, I remember how she was the only one in that place to show me any real kindness. She saved me though she sacrificed herself to do it. I didn't kill her, you know I didn't."

He glares at him, still a vision of hell on earth.

"I should choke the life out of you, I should wrap my hands around your neck and squeeze and watch you change colour, for you to have blackness edge your vision and your lungs scream for air. Maybe I should, I have plenty of time…" He then pauses and shakes his head. He slides the blade of the knife up beneath his chin again and forces his head upwards so that he looks directly at him.

"Take a good look at me old man. Before you finally leave this world I want you to take a good long look at me and realise that you helped create this man that you see before you. You made me what I am today. This is all of your doing and you should be proud of me, proud of yourself because I am, after all, your creation."

Edmund's eyes grow wide as Hal slowly moves around him, to stand behind the chair.

"Hal…please…" he babbles "She's not…she's not…" His words are silenced as Hal grabs a handful of his hair, pulls his head back and slices the blade across his throat. Blood arcs from the wound in rhythmic spurts. He lets go of him and watches as Edmund's body goes through its death throes, arching and spasming before he's finally still.

He turns his head and sees Wyndam and Robert standing in the doorway, observing him. He hadn't even heard the door open again. His eyes return to their usual colour and his fangs retract as he moves away from Edmund's corpse and retrieves the deeds recently signed over to him from where they'd fallen onto the floor.

"Go clean yourself up, we will deal with this," Wyndam informs him, nodding his head towards the still warm body.


Neither Wyndam nor Robert could guess exactly how Hal would react to the events of the evening but they did not expect the deep brooding silence that they did find.

He has changed into fresh clothing and he sits in his chamber, blind and deaf to the goings on around him. Robert glides about in front of the fireplace, a glass of wine in one hand, his shirt is untucked and sliding off one shoulder and he is quietly humming a nameless, unknown tune under his breath. Louis switches between observing him and making sure that Hal's own glass of wine never goes empty. He's barely touched it so he feels a little bit redundant.

"Aren't you in the mood to celebrate Hal?" Robert enquires, pausing from his gliding to observe his friend. Hal is slouched in a chair by the fire, chewing on a thumbnail and staring unblinkingly into space.

"Hal?" he repeats in a sharper tone. His friend blinks and then lifts his head slightly to look at him.

"I'm sorry, what?" Robert sighs and rolls his eyes. He holds his glass aloft.

"We should celebrate this momentous occasion…how about it?" he suggests. He watches as Hal seems to physically come back into the present. He straightens slightly in his seat and reaches for his own glass but he doesn't drink from it. Instead he looks down into the dark red depths.

"Perhaps later," he mumbles. Robert frowns, somewhat frustrated by his friend's subdued mood. He should be shouting about his victory the loudest.

"Are you not pleased Hal? It's what you deserve!"

There is no response.

"Admittedly, it's a whorehouse but it's a start is it not? You could do anything you please with it…"

"I think she's alive Robert," Hal interrupts and Robert pauses. He frowns once more.

"I'm sorry but who is? Rosemary? Well who cares because that won't be for much longer…" He chuckles under his breath and he takes a mouthful of his wine.

"Lizzie…I think she's alive…" Hal looks up at Robert and his expression is so sad."I have to go there and find out for myself, I owe her."

Robert goes still.

"And if she is alive, what do you plan to do? Recruit her, bring her back here? Wyndam will not allow it."

Hal continues to look up at him. "I don't know, I have not thought that far ahead," he admits. He then shakes his head.

"It's ridiculous, she's dead." He looks back down at his wine goblet and the frown returns.

"You've never said how she died."

Hal goes still for a while and that subtle frown comes and goes.

"I'm not entirely sure what happened but what I do remember is finding her at the bottom of the stairs at the Inn, I'd fought with Edmund and he beat me, tried to choke me. I tumbled down the stairs and she must have got caught up in it all because she was there too, covered in blood and unmoving. She's dead; she couldn't have survived that fall."

"Why not? You did." Hal looks up at him.

"There was so much blood Robert, I don't see how she could have."


Robert finds him in the stables, grooming Achilles. The other stable lads observe him but are careful to stay out of his way, they are used to his routines and how possessive he is of his horse. Robert glances at them as he enters and obediently they disappear from sight.

Hal seems to sense his presence as he turns his head and looks at him over one shoulder.

"I thought I might find you here," Robert begins. Hal returns his attention to Achilles, brushing his gleaming hide with long, sure strokes.

"And so you have found me. I wasn't hiding," he replies evenly.

"You have had your revenge against Edmund Yorke, was it every bit as satisfying as you'd hoped?" Hal doesn't respond initially and Robert watches as he attends to his horse.

"Yes. He is gone from this world finally by my own hand, how could I not be satisfied?" he eventually replies. Robert sighs quietly.

"And yet you are quiet and contemplative. Are you still thinking about your Lizzie?" Hal pauses again and then he turns fully to look at his friend.

"I'm curious," he admits.

"Then why don't we investigate? Isn't it about time that the new owner of The Yorke Inn pays a visit to his employees?" Robert suggests. Hal stares at him.

"Or were you just planning on ignoring it, and let Rosemary wonder what happened to Edmund…let her struggle without him?"

Hal snorts. "She will find a benefactor quickly enough. I'm just biding my time, choosing my moment," he tells him. Robert smiles at him.

"Then the moment should be soon and it should also be swift. Don't you want to see the look on Rosemary's face when she discovers who her new employer is? I know I do." He grins mischievously. "And there are loose ends to be tied up, lines to be drawn before you leave," he reminds him in a low voice.

Hal regards him, seeing the determined expression in Robert's eyes. "Ah. I take it you were the one sent to extend the invitation for Yorke to...dine…here the night I was sent away?" He doesn't react when he sees the surprise in his friend's eyes. Robert's chin goes up very slightly as if in challenge.

"And if I was?"

"Well it would explain why I was sent to the gathering instead of you. And here I thought you had fallen foul of our esteemed patron." Hal's tone is dry.

"Well it couldn't very well be you, could it?" Robert retorts.

Hal shrugs nonchalantly "Very true but it also explains your impatience in wanting to deal with the Yorke Inn, those annoying loose ends, namely Rosemary and the fact that she may talk to the wrong people perhaps?" Hal's eyes gleam with ill-concealed mischief and Robert frowns darkly.

"There is that too. It could bring unforeseen trouble if left ignored," he warns him. Hal regards him steadily.

"She isn't that intelligent Robert but I promise you that it will be dealt with and to my satisfaction," he answers coldly.


It's full dark as they flit like shadows across the bridge to where the Yorke Inn is situated. They gather together nearby and observe. They are legion but invisible all the same.

Hal stands by the entrance to the building and he stares up at it. It's in darkness, closing up for the night. After all of this time it hasn't changed all that much but it's still enough to send shivers down his spine. Each memory as dark as its predecessor.

"Hal."

Pulled sharply out of his memories, he turns his head and looks at Robert who stands by his right shoulder "Let me go in first, it would give you that extra element of surprise if you were to follow in my stead," he suggests. Hal regards him for a moment and then holds out a hand for Robert to precede him.

Business seems to be winding down for the night as the initially small group make their entrance. Hal stays partially hidden behind Robert but his eyes take in his surroundings, ignoring the chill that still trickles down his spine like ice and deliberately he ignores the twist of fear this building still brings to him. Even after all these years and given what he has become; he is afraid of this place.

"We're closed," a female voice interrupts his thoughts and he turns his head towards it. The last time he'd heard that voice, it had accused him of thievery and worse.

"You're mistaken if you think that we're here to conduct business mistress," Robert answers in a low voice. There's a brief silence and Hal listens intently.

"I remember you…" she begins, her tone softening, becoming a little more flirtatious as she takes in Robert's countenance. "What are you doing here? I'm afraid Edmund isn't here; I haven't seen him in a day or so." Hal hears her tone begin to change, her annoyance at his perceived abandonment beginning to sharpen her voice and he bites back a smile.

"That's because he's here at my invitation," Hal announces, moving away from behind Robert and coming to stand beside him. "And you won't be seeing Edmund here again I'm afraid."

The woman before them stares at him with a narrowed gaze. "And who might you be?" she demands shrewishly and Hal rolls his eyes and he looks to Robert as he does so.

"This is really becoming tiresome. How long was I gone from this place or do the people around these parts truly have such poor recollection?" Robert regards him with an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders before Hal looks back at her.

"Perhaps I should be cowering on the floor as I don't think you'd remember me otherwise." His voice is heavy with scorn as he takes a couple of slow steps towards her and his voice lowers to a whisper. "Or perhaps I am a spirit returned from his watery grave to haunt you." Her eyes widen slightly in recognition and then alarm. He watches how she straightens, the colour draining from her face.

"You have no business being here at this hour Hal, you must leave otherwise I will cause such a ruckus unlike anything you have ever known!" she warns, her voice beginning to rise, filling with bravado.

Hal smiles.

"I remember the uproar you used to cause with your light fingers and lying ways. I've never forgotten." He reaches inside of his doublet and takes out the property deeds and he holds them up for her to see. "You have no dominion over me Rosemary because as the new owner of this hovel, I have every right to be here," he adds, his voice hardening. He watches how her mouth drops open and her eyes widen with shock.

"How…where's Edmund? Does he know of this?" she demands. She snatches the document out of his hand and Hal is bemused as he watches her scrutinise it.

"Whose signature do you think that is at the bottom? Which is moot given you can't read," Hal drawls and Rosemary lifts her head and she glares at him.

"He would never sell up to you!" she hisses, tossing the document down at his feet.

"He didn't offer it for sale exactly. It was…awarded to him, call it a present. He didn't really have much of a say in the matter to be honest," Robert interrupts and Hal glances briefly at him. Rosemary turns her attention to him and Hal sees how her eyes narrow, how troubled her expression becomes.

"You came here to see Edmund with an invitation to dine..." she begins and Robert grins at her.

"And most delicious he was too," he informs her. It's then that Hal produces a set of keys.

"I remember how these never left his sight and now they are mine." He gives them a brief rattle and he turns in a small circle as he takes the room in. Then he pauses and he looks at his small coterie.

"There are several rooms upstairs. You're to visit them all and bring everyone down here. No exception and by force if necessary but do not hurt any of them," he instructs. He slowly pivots on his heel and he looks straight at Rosemary.

"You however, if you move a single muscle then I'll be forced to rip out your throat," he warns.

"You do not scare me young Hal!" she hisses back at him. Hal takes two rapid steps towards her and then stops as she backs up just as quickly. His eyes glitter as he wraps a hand around her throat and grips tightly.

"Do not presume you know me anymore Rosemary; be assured I'm not that scared snivelling child of old. When I say I will rip out your throat, then that is exactly what I will do!" he hisses with barely controlled ice cold rage. Rosemary grows pale and remains silent. He then looks at Robert.

"Guard her and if she tries to escape then kill her, I don't care how." Robert nods and watches as he releases her, pushing her backwards and he takes his leave, collecting a lantern as he does.


He can hear the women screaming as he climbs the staircase, the lantern in one hand. He ignores them as he walks along the corridor. He pauses beside what used to be her room but he does not recognise the girl that Charles drags out of there. They make brief eye contact; her eyes are filled with tears and terror. Hal's expression is blank as he turns and continues to walk.

He's at the room at the very top of the building. He pauses by the door. It's still as cold here as he remembers, a bitter draught sliding between gaps in the roof timbers. He remembers the cold, how it invaded every corner of his pitiful room, turn his skin pale and pinched and blue in the harshest of winters. He takes a breath and opens the door.

He stands on the threshold and lifts the lantern up. Upon first inspection the room looks to be empty. He enters the room and sees that the narrow bed he once occupied is still where he remembers and still pathetic but there are signs of recent occupation, the threadbare blankets kicked back in a hurry. He turns his head and sees someone huddled in the furthest corner of the room, a smudged black shadow in the half light.

Slowly Hal approaches what initially looks like a collection of rags and material and then he pauses when it moves. It lifts it's head and turns in his direction and his eyes go wide when he recognises who it is. He cautiously approaches her once more and the dull gold from the light of the lantern reveals her to him.

Her once blonde hair is now streaked a dull grey and no longer the crowning glory it once had been. The intervening years have not been kind. She's thin, almost to the point of scrawny, her face gaunt, skin pulled tightly over cheekbones and jawline. Her eyes, once as blue as a summer sky and filled with laughter are now dull with a pale grey cobwebby film over them. He sees the fine white scar that etches her skin from above her left eyebrow, disappearing into her hairline. He stops in front of her and he crouches down in front of her.

"Who are you?" Her voice is rougher than he remembers, a rough whisper. For a moment he just stares at her as he remembers Edmund's last words. "She's not…she's not…"

"I may be almost blind but I'm able to see shadows…and I know that you're nearby."

"Lizzie," he murmurs. She frowns and tilts her head to one side.

"I know that voice…but it can't possibly be…Edmund told me you were dead." Hal just stares at her and for a moment he can't respond and he feels a lump form in his throat and tears begin to burn in the backs of his eyes.

"It's me Lizzie, it's Hal," he whispers. He watches how her eyes widen and her mouth drops open.

"You are a liar or you are his spirit and I am at death's door sir!" She cowers back, clutching her shawl more tightly about her.

Hal shakes his head "I am none of those Lizzie. It truly is me, the child you tried to nurture and who you tried to protect that last day, the little boy whose name you drew in the dirt and told him what those letters were. You told him that he was actually named Henry but you thought he suited Hal more." His voice fades away as he sees tears rim the edges of her eyes. He places the lantern down by his knee and he moves closer to her but pauses again when she presses her back up against the wall.

"Don't you believe me?" he whispers.

She frowns. "My mind wanders. I have days where I don't know whether what I think is truth or fancy. I have such dreams and nightmares," she whispers. "You are a figment of my imagination, a spirit." She turns her head away and he looks on helplessly.

"I can get you out of here Lizzie, I can save you," Slowly Lizzie turns her head back around and she looks at him but through him all the same.

"Save me from what? I can see naught but shadows, I am useless. I am nothing but a burden on humanity. Nobody cares whether I live or die so why should I care about them or what you say you can give me?" she retorts archly. Hal moves forward and he touches her face, feeling how she rears away from his touch.

"I am not a spirit Lizzie," he whispers. "I have come back for you." She looks at him through her cobwebby eyes.

"I have had many times where I have dreamed of such a thing happening but that is all that they are. Whoever you are, whoever you claim to be, leave me be and return to your mayhem. I can hear them screaming, the demons and you are one of them. Leave me." She pushes him and he falls back and he stares at her in shock.

"Hal?" His head snaps around when he hears Robert's voice. He stands in the doorway and there is a frown on his face.

"We are waiting for you," he reminds him. Hal stares at him and then he blinks and gives a little shake of his head.

"I'll be downstairs presently," he tells him and Robert stares at him for another moment, the frown remaining.

"Very well," he murmurs and Hal listens as the sound of his footsteps fades away.

He looks back at Lizzie.

"Is that another of your friends, demon?" she hisses at him. Hal frowns at her and ignores the flare of pain that brews in his soul.

"I'm not a demon…"

"Yes you are! What else can cause that noise downstairs except something unholy? I may be blind young sir but I am not deaf, my hearing is much sharper than it used to be, it has to be and I can hear each one of them, begging for mercy, for their lives," she snarls at him and Hal stares at her in disbelief.

"You are going to kill them and for what reason? Do you really need one? My Hal was a good boy and in his stead his spirit returns a demon, an unholy child. You are nothing but a devil's spawn!" she hisses and she spits at him.

Hal lunges at her and covers her nose and mouth with the palm of his hand and he presses down hard. He ignores the tears that swell in his eyes and slip down his cheeks. She tries to fight back, tries to claw at him but it's hopeless and it doesn't take long for the life to slip out of her. He releases his hold on her and watches how she slides down to the floor.

He sits for a moment on the floor and he stares at her corpse. Using the heels of his hands he scrubs at his eyes and takes a deep breath and retrieves his lantern. He gets to his feet in one graceful movement and turns on his heel and leaves the room. He doesn't pause and he doesn't look back.


He doesn't recognise any of the girls huddled together in the room around Rosemary when he makes his entrance. His eyes scan their faces as they stare back, pale faced, teary eyed and shaking in their shifts.

"Is this all of them?" he asks Charles and he nods.

"Why?" Rosemary demands loudly. "Why are you doing this?"

Hal stares at her. Then he gives an elegant shrug.

"Why not?" he replies. He then looks to Robert.

"Kill them. Kill them all and when you're done, burn this place down to the ground."

Robert gives a nod before turning his attention to the girls and to Rosemary and one by one each vampire's eyes bleed black and reveal sharp white fangs. They attack so quickly that they don't have time to scream.

Hal leaves them to it, walking free from the Inn, out into the freezing night air.

He sees Wyndam across the courtyard, barely noticeable in the dark shadows, keeping watch with his cloak wrapped tightly around himself, the only colour his pale face. Hal slowly walks towards him.

"I thought you wanted your revenge?" Wyndam enquires. Hal pauses beside him and slowly turns to look at the building. Already he can see the first golden orange flames flickering near the grubby windows. He watches as one by one the group of vampires emerges.

"I've already had it," he murmurs as he watches them approach.

He waits for Robert to approach and watches as he wipes the blood from his face.

"Didn't you want a sip Hal?" he asks as they make preparations to leave. Hal glances at him and shakes his head.

"It wasn't about the blood, not this time."

"Then what was it about?"

Hal turns his attention to the building once more which is now well alight, flames licking at the ancient timberwork, already poking through the roof top.

It was about purging the shadows from his soul, being reborn almost. He sighs.

"It doesn't matter," he answers.


They are like shadows once again as they make haste in their departure.

"Did you find her?" Robert asks as they enter the house. Hal looks at him as he unhooks his cloak.

"Find who?"

"Your friend…Lizzie? Was she who you were talking to in the attic?"

Hal stares at him for a moment as he removes his own cloak and hands it off to a waiting servant. Then he blinks and shakes his head.

"No…I was mistaken…she was just a demented woman who used to work there, after my time," he tells him with a breezy smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. Robert stares at him for a moment. Then he grins in return and claps Hal on his shoulder.

"Now will you celebrate with me? I can get Arthur to bring us a bottle of excellent wine from the cellar. I think the occasion most definitely calls for it don't you agree?"

Hal nods.

"It does," he confirms.

He watches as Grace appears and observes how they embrace, how Robert smiles at her and how Grace smiles in return.

He shares a somewhat celebratory bottle of wine with them both and listens with half an ear as they talk before he excuses himself and returns to his chamber.

The remaining night time hours drift by. Wyndam and Bartholomew are ensconced within the library, lost in a discussion about religion and philosophy. Arthur catches Grace outside the cellar door and there is a mischievous twinkle in her eye as the door opens and Robert emerges, a bottle of wine in one hand and another tucked under one arm. He smiles at him and puts a finger to his lips. Arthur rolls his eyes but lets him pass. He smiles to himself as he hears Grace giggle and the sound of their running footsteps.

Hal sleeps, his dreams undisturbed.