Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
“Why are we trying something new?” Slate’s father asked. “Banishing is a time-tested method that doesn’t put the portal at risk.”
The room felt like a ravine separating the two sides. Slate noticed how his parents and the Reeves had taken seats together, and Meredith stood by Dash. Of course, she did, and it gave Slate a chill. He found it interesting that the ghosts stood off to the side, observing but not interrupting.
“How is the portal at risk?” Dash asked. “Did you create it? Have you studied it? Or is that just fearmongering in hopes we’ll do it the way you want?”
“Dash,” Morten said in a stern voice. “Mind your manners.”
“Of course.” Dash folded his arms across his chest. “Just as soon as you and Clifford show me the same. I’m not stupid. My opinion matters as much as yours. You don’t get to dismiss me and then tell me to ‘mind my manners.’ It works both ways.”
The direct, sharp response put everyone back on their heels.
Dash rarely drew lines in the sand like that, and never with his grandparents.
He’d wanted Slate’s support earlier, but when it hadn’t materialized, Dash had backed down.
Slate couldn’t change the past, but he planned to learn from his mistake.
The older generation stared at Dash with a mix of annoyance and anger. Except for Millicent, who couldn’t completely hide her smile.
Slate kept silent but remained close to let Dash know he was there. This was Dash’s idea, and he was right. No one knew the portal like he and Slate. His father’s concern about the portal was a made up issue.
“Grandpa,” Dash said, his tone softer. “I know the family moved away from Quakerism after his death, but Ezra believed in being a peacemaker. That includes preventing violence. Can you honestly say he would approve of banishing Theodore and Wilbur without even trying my suggestion first?”
No one spoke, but Meredith bumped shoulders with her brother. Dash didn’t smile, but he nudged her back. The mood in the room shifted. There wasn’t agreement, but the first crack in the wall of resistance appeared.
“He’s right,” Millicent said, her voice quiet but firm. “Ezra would have tried mercy before force.”
“Millie…”
“Don’t ‘Millie’ me.” She squeezed his arm. “You know Dash is right. Ezra would have looked for another way.”
“But what if it destroys the portal?” Morten’s voice lost much of its certainty. “It is one of a kind. Losing it would be felt for decades.”
Everyone was so concerned about the portal, but they didn’t create it or use it to help souls cross over. “Then we make a new one,” he said. “Like Dash said, he and I understand it better than anyone else.”
“That doesn’t give you the right to destroy it, son,” Marjorie said. “It was the culmination of Esmerelda’s life’s work.”
His mother’s weak argument meant this discussion was all but over.
“Putting aside that we do have the right—we risked our lives to create it—there’s nothing to suggest it will hurt the portal.
” Slate shifted his gaze from his mother to his father.
“I know change is never easy, but sticking with something even if it’s wrong isn’t the answer. ”
“Well, I think that’s settled,” Meredith said. “Now how do we get those two ghosts here so Dash and Slate can push them over?”
It might have been a bit premature to declare things settled, but Meredith’s declaration appeared to end the debate. She also highlighted the part of their plan that he and Dash hadn’t worked out.
“Thomas and I can help,” Cain said. “Those two have been causing trouble among other ghosts, but we weren’t willing to help if you only wanted to banish them.”
“Right on,” Gary said. “Thomas said we could trust you two. I’m willing to help get those two downers away from our party ghosts.”
“So am I,” Oliver said. “If you tell me how I can help.”
“How do you plan to get them to the ballroom?” Clifford asked. “Dark spirits are powerful and manipulative. They won’t just cooperate.”
“Cain and I can handle them,” Thomas said. “We’ve been around long enough to have met their kind before. They’re bullies, and they see everyone else as weak. Stand up to them, and they back off.”
“They see a crowd of hippies who won’t fight back,” Cain added. “Thomas, Oliver, Gary, and I won’t have any trouble getting them here. Just be ready to hold them once we arrive. Those two chickens will run the first chance they get.”
Slate’s parents sat back, and most of the tension left their bodies. Morten patted Millicent’s hand and smiled. “Sounds like you six have this under control.”
“Not so fast, Gramps.” Dash held out his hand. “You too, Mr. Blackwood. We need your help to change some of the containment charms we set around the ballroom. They’re meant to prevent ghosts from accidentally leaving the house, not stop a determined effort to flee.”
“Oh, now you need our help,” Clifford said, a crooked grin crossing his lips. “What happened to you have this all figured out?”
“Clifford, don’t you dare,” Marjorie said. “The boys said they didn’t agree with your plan, not that they didn’t need your help. You’re going to help them, so stop playing.”
“I’m in,” Morten said, raising his hands in surrender. “Millie corrected me once. I don’t plan to make her do it a second time.”
“We’ll need the modifications finished by evening,” Dash said. “Then undo them before the party tomorrow.”
“What happens if you can’t fix things in time?” Gary asked.
“We hold the party without them,” Slate said. “It isn’t ideal, but it’s not important enough to cancel everything.”
“Right on, man.” Gary held his hand up. “You’re a righteous dude.”
Slate braced himself for his hand to pass through Gary’s and high-fived the ghost. To Slate’s surprise, his hand hit Gary’s. The slap was cold, and didn’t feel like flesh, but Gary’s hand was solid.
“Let’s eat before we get started.” His mother pushed off the arms of her chair and stood. “You two are not eating enough.”
Dash rolled his eyes and gave Slate a pleading look to make her stop.
Slate shared the pained expression, but didn’t object. He and Dash got what they wanted and there were some arguments he just wasn’t going to win.
Slate paced the room, checking the wards. Again. He already knew they’d created them properly; he just needed to do something while they waited.
“You’re going to create a walking path if you don’t stop,” Dash said. “They’ll get here when they get here.”
The irony of being told to relax by Dash forced Slate to smile. “You’re just jealous my track will be more defined than yours.”
“Not at all.” He pushed off the wall and stepped closer to Slate. “You have bigger feet, so naturally, you’d cut a groove faster than me.”
“You know what they say about big feet?” Slate said, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Yep. You need to buy big shoes.” Dash looked around dramatically. “But the other part is true too.”
“Whatever you two are doing, you’re having way too much fun,” Meredith said as she crossed the room. “Everyone looks like they think the house is going to collapse.”
Slate’s cheeks burned, and he worried she would figure them out. “Nothing—”
“I mentioned he had big feet.” Dash winked at Slate. “He pointed out mine were just as big.”
He hadn’t said that, but if they were talking about feet instead of feet, Dash wasn’t wrong. “He said I’m beating a path in the floor with my pacing.”
“Ah,” Meredith smirked, and it reminded Slate of Dash. “That would cause a guy to blush. Anyway.” She drew out the last word. “Just figured you should know, Grandpa and Clifford are prepared to banish these two if you can’t push them out.”
“Over,” Dash said. “We need to force them to cross over, and we will. But thank you for the heads-up. We—”
Dash’s hand went toward his neck, but he slapped it down. A second before Slate detected the arrival of ghosts. “Incoming,” Slate said.
As if he’d summoned it, the temperature dropped, and the wall rippled.
Thomas phased through first, Wilbur thrashing in his hold. Oliver did his best to hold onto the other ghost’s legs. Slate had never seen him so determined.
Cain and Gary came next. Theodore struggled against the hold, but Cain’s expression didn’t waver. Like Thomas, he’d said he’d dealt with bullies before, and this proved he hadn’t lied.
The moment everyone passed through the wall, light flared along the chalk symbols. Linked to the wards, Slate knew the instant the containment was complete.
The ghosts must have sensed it too, because Cain and Thomas released their prisoners, and Theodore and Wilbur scanned the room, their heads whipping around in jerky movements.
Theodore tried to leave, but he slammed into the invisible barrier. He spun, rage twisting his features. “What is this?”
“You wanted to come to the party,” Thomas said. His voice was calm, but his expression was almost amused. “Consider this your personal invitation.”
Wilbur lunged for the wall they’d come through, and spectral energy crackled around him. He kept trying until his form flickered, and he pulled back. “This is outrageous! Wait and see what we do to the town when we get out.”
“That’s right.” Theodore’s voice rose. “You can’t hold us forever. If you don’t release us immediately, when we break out, everyone in this pathetic place will suffer.”
After how well the containment worked, Slate ignored the bluster. The threats, however, confirmed that Theodore and Wilbur were exactly what they feared. They were bullies who terrified people and other ghosts to feed off the negative emotions.
“You won’t terrorize anyone,” Slate said. “This is a stopover, not a prison.”
“Do you think you’re the first mediums to try to banish us?” Theodore circled the perimeter, poking at the barrier as he walked. “These flimsy wards won’t last long.”
“As Slate said, we’re not planning to keep you for long,” Dash said. “And we have backup.”
Morten and Clifford moved out of the shadows, and Wilbur’s fear smothered his false swagger. “I’m confident we’re nothing like the mediums you allegedly faced before,” Clifford said.
“You’re bluffing,” Theodore said. “We’ve been around longer than any of you. Your little cage won’t hold us.”
He was probably right that no cage could hold them forever. Fortunately, they didn’t need that long. Slate glanced at Dash as their hands met. Dash’s energy flowed through their link and merged with Slate’s.
This was what Theodore and Wilbur didn’t understand. Dash and Slate worked seamlessly. They weren’t like any mediums the ghosts had met before.
Dash shaped their combined energy into the now familiar barn door. Normally, Slate just invited the spirits to step through, but for these crossings, he expected a fight.
The air shimmered, and the door slid open. Light poured from the opening, bright and welcoming. Well, welcoming for most souls.
Theodore’s eyes went wide, and the last of his confidence evaporated. “No. You can’t. We don’t want to go.”
“Be glad the boys are compassionate,” Morten said. “Clifford and I wanted to banish you.”
While Dash held the portal steady, Slate used their combined energy to pull Wilbur toward the opening. The struggle started immediately. Wilbur tried to back away, but Slate held him fast. Theodore proved the extent of his loyalty by trying to flee.
“Theo?” Wilbur stared at his friend with disbelief.
A second later, Theodore jerked to a halt. Slate’s father and Morten locked the taller ghost in a grip so tight he could barely move.
“I told you we were different,” Clifford said.
With Theodore secured, Slate focused his attention on Wilbur. The spirit resisted with the desperate strength of someone who had nothing to lose.
“I won’t go!” Wilbur braced his legs, making it hard to drag him. “Let me go. I’ll do whatever you ask.”
Slate didn’t believe him. Cornered, Wilbur would promise anything to escape with no intention of honoring his word. An icy wave swirled around the room as the two ghosts pulled any energy they could find into their struggle. Slate’s hands shook as he fought to pull the spirit closer.
Thomas stepped forward, hands raised to push Wilbur through.
“Thomas! No!” Dash yelled, and Thomas jumped back as if an electric shock had struck him. “They might drag you through with them.”
This wasn’t working. Their combined power was formidable, but the pace was too slow.
Unlike ghosts who didn’t tire, Slate doubted they’d last long enough to get one of them into the portal, much less both.
Dash gave Slate as much energy as he could spare and still keep the door stable.
His breathing was ragged, and his hand trembled.
Slate readied himself for a renewed effort, but Dash tightened his grip. “If we can’t get him to the portal, let’s take the portal to him.”
The barn door slowly moved forward. Dash’s face tightened with the effort, but he inched the opening closer to the struggling ghost. Slate made sure Wilbur couldn’t flee, but he wasn’t sure bringing the portal closer would force the ghost through.
Light filled the ballroom, illuminating the far corners of the space. In the center of the brightness, male and female figures took shape. Recognition bloomed on Dash’s face, but he didn’t falter. When the portal almost touched Wilbur, the light pushed out to meet the ghost.
A moment later, Wilbur was gone, pulled into the afterlife.
Slate redirected his energy to Theodore, still held rigid by Morten and his father. He continued to struggle, but even he knew it was hopeless.
Now that Slate had help, Dash pulled back some of his energy, and the portal moved smoothly toward Theodore. As the barrier moved closer, his form stretched forward.
“No!” Theodore screamed as light engulfed him.
A second later, he was gone.
The brightness eased, and in the center, now clearly visible, Ezra and Esmerelda smiled into the room. Ezra looked at Dash and nodded. Just once. Esmerelda put her hand to her lips and blew a kiss to Slate.
Before Slate could react, the barn door snapped closed.
Slate’s legs nearly gave out. Dash, breathing hard, sagged against him. The room quickly warmed, and the air felt lighter.
“That was exceptional,” Oliver said. “You rid us of those two despicable spirits, but humanely. I’m proud to be your friend.”
“Me too!” Gary said. “You’re righteous, dudes.”
“Can we agree, no more problems before tomorrow’s party?” Dash asked. “That takes a lot out of me and I want to stay awake and enjoy the celebration.”
Slate smiled and pulled Dash into a hug. They’d just done something unprecedented and his boyfriend was worried about a party. “No promises, but I’ll see what I can do.”