The next day, Charon lugged her sparrow out of the Tower by hand, since she didn't have a ghost to transmat it. Phantom thought he probably could have, but he didn't know how to offer.
They met her fireteam outside the City's nearest gate. There was Ashton, a burly hunter, and Sheen-6, an Exo warlock. Both were sitting on their sparrows, talking, with their ghosts out, when Charon rode up on her sparrow with Phantom floating beside her.
"Hey, Charon," they greeted her. Both of them stared at the strange ghost, and so did their ghosts.
"This is Phantom," Charon said. "He's an unattached ghost who's hoping I can lead him to his Guardian."
Ashton and Sheen relaxed.
"I thought you were going to say you'd found a new ghost," Ashton said. "I was about to be really skeptical."
"No, nothing like that," said Charon. She gripped the handlebars of her bike. "Where to?"
Sheen and Ashton took turns gesturing and pointing to various areas of the landscape. Apparently there had been an incursion of Fallen in the City's five-mile safe zone, and they were to show them to the borders. In a manner of speaking.
As the Guardians sped off in single file, their ghosts phased. The bonded ghosts rode along inside their Guardians' armor in immaterial form, but Phantom zipped along behind Charon.
Ashton's ghost said, "Pleased to meet you, Phantom. I hope you find your Guardian someday."
"Me too," Phantom replied. "It would make high speed travel easier, for one thing."
Sheen's ghost said, "Will you survive a firefight? Charon's vicious, and she'll drag you into the hottest fighting."
Phantom thrilled to hear this. "Oh, I do want to see her be vicious."
The other two ghosts sat in nonplussed silence for a moment. Then Ashton's ghost said, "You aren't bonded to her, are you?"
"Of course not," Phantom said. "Check my ID tag. Unbonded."
Sheen's ghost said slowly, "Then why do you act like she's yours?"
"I'm not!" Phantom retorted. "I've been following her a while, and I like her, that's all."
This conversation was cut short as the Guardians slowed to a halt, gesturing to a set of moving figures on a nearby hilltop. They climbed off their sparrows. Ashton and Sheen's ghosts transmatted their sparrows away in a fizzle of Light, but Charon hid hers behind a big rock.
Phantom quietly applied a transmat tag to it. He'd surprise Charon later by transmatting her sparrow to wherever they wound up after the Fallen were defeated.
Ashton said, "I'm detecting a swarm of hostiles behind that hill. Looks like they're establishing a forward base of operations. Charon, can you use your super?"
"Yes," she said, "but probably only once."
"Good enough," Ashton said. "I'm going to climb that tree, there. I'll snipe the captains. Sheen, void bomb the camp's center, then Charon, make your run. With luck, this fight won't last five minutes."
As the fireteam scattered, Charon whispered, "Phantom?"
"Yes?" he replied, emerging from phase in a swirl of Light.
She tapped her helmet. "No ghost, and I have no live map. Could you ... hack my HUD?"
Phantom laughed. "Nobody's ever asked me that before. Let's see."
He flew around her helmet, scanning the electronics. "The HUD is set to only allow a bonded ghost to access. Oh, I, this is embarrassing."
"What?"
"I'd have to use Simon's login."
Charon hesitated only a fraction of a second. "Do it. I can't do this fight blind."
Feeling like he was invading her privacy in the worst way, Phantom logged in, connecting his scanner to her HUD. He thought the hack was bad enough until he checked the ghost log. It was Simon's private notes from the fight when he had died. Phantom took one look and hastily closed it. It amounted to a very personal love letter.
Flustered, Phantom phased and followed close beside Charon as she circled the foot of the hill. Light, she looked so good in her armor. Black and silver, she had a slimmer profile than a male Titan, and moved smoothly, carrying the armor like a second skin.
And Simon had been crazy about her, too. Phantom wanted to sneak away in shame. What made him think he could ever love her the way her original ghost had done? His little crush was nothing to the way Simon's spark had burned for her.
The first gunshots echoed across the hillside as Ashton began sniping. Sheen crouched behind a tree, bobbing her head as if counting down. Then she bolted out of hiding, her warlock robes flying around her, and charged the Fallen encampment.
On Phantom's screen, the hostile dots went crazy, swarming like angry, alien ants.
Sheen's void bomb went off with an earthshaking concussion, throwing smoke and dust a hundred feet in the air.
"Our turn," Charon said, and bolted up the hill, carrying an auto rifle longer than her own arms. Phantom flew with her, trying to hold back a giggle of pure terror.
The Fallen encampment had once been a somewhat orderly assortment of scrap metal shelters, tools, and machinery. But the bomb had reduced it to a chaotic mess of twisted metal and dead aliens. The survivors were furious, pelting Ashton and Sheen with arc bolts. Charon charged the nearest group, firing as she ran. A wounded captain stepped out to bar her way. Charon twisted and rammed into him with her thickly-armored right shoulder. As the captain fell, she unloaded half a magazine into his chest. Another alien, charging with knives and jaws open, had its skull bashed in with one armored fist.
Phantom watched all this in awe. Snatches of Simon's log played through his mind.
As we crushed the Vex goblins, one punch at a time, I couldn't help but see her as poetry in motion ...
An alien grabbed Charon from behind. She seized his arm, tossed him over her head in a Judo throw, and filled him with lead before he hit the ground.
My love, you fight with the grace and skill of a great cat, weaving among your attackers without taking a scratch ...
They rounded a pile of debris and found the Fallen had regrouped and were charging Charon's position. Charon drew on her Light and summoned a fiery hammer, more fire licking over her armor. She tore into the aliens like they were made of paper.
My Guardian is a spectacular fighter, and every battle is a matter of pride to me. I heal her wounds and raise her when a misstep is made, and all the time, her spark sings the song of my own heart ...
Because of the lack of a proper bond, Phantom had no idea Charon was wounded until he spotted a small stream of blood leaking down the side of her breastplate. He tried to heal her, but without the bond, he didn't know her body to the cellular level. He couldn't even tell where the injury was.
Charon leaped behind a collapsed shelter and knelt, favoring her right arm. "Phantom, can you heal me?"
"I'm trying," he said in growing panic. "But - but it's not working."
She coughed lightly. "No problem," she said, her voice raspy. "Ashton, Sheen, I'm hit. Mop up."
"Get out of there, Charon!" Ashton exclaimed. "You're ghostless. You die, you don't come back."
Charon started to stand, but grunted and sank to one knee again.
Phantom's mind raced. He couldn't heal her, but maybe he could help her escape.
"Can you ride a sparrow?"
She nodded and coughed again. Blood splattered the inside of her helmet.
Phantom's core turned to ice. "One sparrow, coming up!" He transmatted it from its hiding place. It appeared beside them in a shimmer of Light.
Charon mounted it, crouched low over the handlebars, and shot straight through the enemy camp. Scattered Fallen snarled and hissed, shooting at the escaping Guardian.
Charon tossed a grenade over one shoulder. The explosion silenced most of the remaining attackers.
"Heading back to the City," Charon panted. "Knife under my arm. Got my lung."
Ashton and Sheen both cursed.
"My healing rift's not the best," Sheen said. "Can you make it to the medical warlocks in the Tower?"
"Yes," Charon said.
"Don't die on us, Char," Ashton said. "We're coming as quick as we can."
Phantom flew in silence, phased, terrified. What if he had to watch his future Guardian die, her spark slowly fading? He couldn't face the thought.
Charon sped back to the City gates, barely managed to say the password, and rode to the Tower lift, beginning to shiver with shock. She pulled off her helmet and fell off her sparrow trying to climb into the lift. The guards, who had had a boring day up to this point, sprang from their posts to help her.
"Why doesn't your ghost heal you?" one demanded.
"No ghost," Charon gasped.
The guards exchanged a horrified look. "Medical ward," one said.
They lifted Charon back onto the sparrow and pushed the craft through the Tower like a makeshift gurney.
In the medical ward, the first doctor took one look at Charon and said, "Idiot Titans." He threw down a warlock healing rift. Light blazed from a circle on the floor. The doctor and guards lowered her into it. Charon lay on her back, shivering and coughing, as the doctors unstrapped her armor. Little by little, the healing rift mended her wound, and her breathing grew easier.
Phantom hung back from the bustle, phased, helpless and ashamed. He hadn't been able to heal her. She'd needed his help and all he'd been able to do was give her the sparrow. Her first ghost had been so capable, and Phantom was ... just useless.
They moved Charon to a hospital room for observation, hooking her up to machines and an IV. Ashton and Sheen arrived. After they were reassured that their friend would survive, they laughed and joked about the battle, making it sound like great fun.
After a while, they left, and Charon was alone in her room. She looked around at the walls. "Phantom, are you still with me?"
He phased into sight at the foot of her bed. His shell was pulled down in an expression of sadness.
"Hey," she said, holding out one hand. "Come here. What's wrong?"
Phantom flew to hover over her hand - like he was her ghost, and not a faker who supposed he had a shot at happiness. "I couldn't heal you."
"No," Charon said softly. "It was unfair of me to ask. I'm sorry."
"I tried!" he burst out. "I saw you bleeding and I tried! And I ... I couldn't. Then you were coughing up blood, and I thought-"
"Shh." She raised her other hand, as if about to stroke his shell, but lowered it again. "You gave me my sparrow, and that was brilliant. I didn't know you could transmat things for me."
Phantom nodded. "I only have to tag them. I was going to surprise you with it later."
"You saved my life," Charon said. "I don't know any unbonded ghosts who can say that."
Phantom gazed at her, at her spark with the cracks running through it, and almost told her that she was his Guardian. But he couldn't quite do it. Perhaps it was the memory of Simon's adoration. Instead, he said, "You're a wonderful fighter."
Charon smiled. "You ghosts always do admire that."
"I'm serious," Phantom said. "You use your body and gun as duel weapons. It's like a ballet."
"I'm a Titan," she said simply. "It's our fighting style." She lay back against the pillow with a sigh. "They want to keep me overnight, and I'm already so bored. Do you think you could transmat my watercolor tablet and paints?" She told him where they were in her apartment.
"Will do!" Phantom exclaimed, cheering up. "Give me a few minutes."
He zipped upstairs to her apartment, phasing through walls. At least he could do this small thing for her. And then he'd get to watch her paint, which sounded like pure magic.
Her paint was in the drawer she had told him about, but the tablet wasn't. Phantom hunted through her apartment, checking drawers and cabinets. He finally found it on the table in her bedroom, under a pile of old mail.
That was when he spotted the ghost bed beside hers.
Phantom stared at it, fresh grief creeping through his core. She had kept Simon's bed. She'd lost her ghost more than a year ago, and she had left his bed where it was.
"Stupid," Phantom muttered, bashing himself into a wall. "What makes you think you have a chance? She doesn't want a new ghost. She wants Simon back."
He tagged the tablet and slowly flew back downstairs to the medical ward, not bothering to phase through the walls this time. As he gloomily entered Charon's room, she instantly noticed his change of mood. "What's wrong? Couldn't find it?"
"No, I found everything," he said, trying to sound upbeat. "Here you go." He transmatted her tablet, brushes, and paintbox into her lap.
"Excellent!" Charon said. "You're a lifesaver, Phantom." She grabbed the glass of water beside her bed, dampened her brushes and paints, and set to work.
Despite his despondency, Phantom watched her paint, and slowly, wonder filled him. Her brush flowed over the paper, roughing in mountains, trees, and the Traveler in the sky. All of it appeared out of nothing, produced from Charon's mind.
Phantom snapped pictures as she worked, and compared earlier stages to later ones. "How do you know how to put those lines there?" he asked. "They really do look like leaves on the tree."
"Oh well, you know," Charon said, a little pink rising in her cheeks. "When you've been alive for a century and a half, you have time to learn to do things. I've had lots of great teachers."
Phantom ventured, "Is it too forward to say I think you're wonderful?"
She beamed at him. "Not at all. I think you're wonderful, too. Sometimes I wish ... oh, never mind."
Wished what? he wondered. That he could be her ghost? Or that Simon could have met him?
Simon would have run Phantom off, Phantom knew that without a doubt. A ghost so deeply attached to his Guardian never let other ghosts within shouting distance.
She's not mine, Phantom thought wistfully, watching Charon set the painting aside and begin another. She could be, someday. Light, this is hard.
To his surprise, this time Charon painted a picture of a ghost. Even though she worked in orange and blue, the ghost somehow looked white, especially as she added a deep blue background sprinkled with stars.
"Who is that?" he asked.
"It's you, silly," Charon said. "Simon hated for me to paint him. He said he looked too generic."
Phantom flew around the room several times, his sudden joy combining with his low spirits to make him very anxious, indeed.
Charon thought he was happy, and laughed. "Don't tell me you don't like it, either."
Phantom flew back to hover over her shoulder. "I do! I do! I've never had a picture before. But I ... I honestly don't ... you're not my Guardian, and you're giving me a gift?"
"Ohh." Charon gazed at the picture in sudden realization. "I'm sorry. I guess I keep thinking of you as my ghost."
Her ghost. She already thought of him as hers. Phantom wanted to scream - in joy or frustration, he didn't know which. He quivered a little in midair, holding it in. "I think ... I need some fresh air." He phased and darted away through the walls. When he reached the privacy of the outdoors, he did scream. A lot.
She wanted him. Despite her attachment to Simon, she'd already mentally accepted Phantom as her ghost. No wonder she'd asked for healing - she'd forgotten he wasn't hers.
Phantom flew in circles. He couldn't bond to her, not with her spark still cracked. He wanted to go back and pour out his heart to her right now, but it wasn't time yet. He thought of asking the ghost network for advice, but they'd only laugh at him, and he wasn't in the mood for that.
She'd painted a picture of him. Just for him. The generosity of this stunned him whenever he thought of it. Nobody made gifts for unattached ghosts. Nobody named them, either.
He crept back into the Tower, almost afraid to see Charon again. He peeked into her room in phase. She had set his picture aside to dry, and was hard at work on another - some planet with a lot of spires and pointed mountains.
He quietly phased into reality and returned to his spot over her shoulder, wondering how long it would take her to notice him.
Charon said nothing for a few minutes, concentrating on her painting. Then she said, "Back so soon?"
"Just needed to work some things out," he said. "It's hard to be ... just friends."
Charon looked up with a smile. "It is, isn't it? You want a Guardian, I want a ghost ... but it can't happen." She looked away, her smile fading. "Not for me."
"Hey." Phantom flew in front of her to make eye contact. "Listen to me. It's not hopeless."
Charon gazed at him. "What do you mean? Of course it is."
"The reason severed Guardians don't bond to a new ghost," Phantom said, "is because of the damage done to their spark when their ghost dies. Most Guardians spend the rest of their lives in shreds. But you ... your spark is healing. Someday, you may be able to bond to a new ghost."
Charon blinked at him, taking this in. "That's not what the therapist said."
What did a therapist know about things only ghosts knew? A flicker of anger rose in Phantom's heart. "What did your therapist say?"
"She said that the ghost bond is tied to our resurrection. The ghost who gave us life is the only one we can ever bond to. Period."
Phantom glared at her. "Well, that's nine hundred percent dead wrong."
Charon smiled a little - an irritated smile. "It makes sense."
"Of course it does," Phantom snapped. "But it's still wrong. It all has to do with the condition of your spark."
"Oh yeah?" Charon said, raising her voice. "Then why don't more severed Guardians find ghosts?"
"Because they let their souls stay in tatters," Phantom retorted. "There's nothing left for a ghost to bond with."
Charon glared. "I think you're making this up."
"I'm a ghost!" he exploded, opening his shell in rage to make himself look bigger. "We know these things! You've never even seen a spark, and neither has any therapist!"
Charon was unperturbed by his aggressive stance. She leaned right up to his core and stared into his eye. "You're asking me to believe you over the accumulated knowledge of the Vanguard?"
"It wasn't written by ghosts, was it?" Phantom shot back.
Charon flopped back against her pillow and folded her arms. "I still think you're wrong. And put your Light away, it makes me feel weird."
Phantom clapped his segments back together, his rage vanishing into anxiety. She felt his Light. How did she feel his Light? He glanced at the cracks in her spark and saw that one of them had shrank a little.
"Just go away," Charon said. "Give me some peace and quiet."
"Fine," Phantom snapped, and phased from sight. He didn't leave, just hung there, invisible.
But when Charon burst into tears, he crept out of the room and hid under a chair in the hall. He'd made her angry, then he'd made her cry.
And she felt his Light, even with her spark still damaged.
Phantom didn't know what to do, but he felt small, mean, and pathetic. So he hid nearby and waited.