Ethan Greywater's Arc

Chapter 3 of 10

The door of pale light hung open above the broken headstone. Its glow spilled across the weeds and touched Ethan's hands. He could cross now. The way was clear. But he did not move. Sammy sat in the dirt below him, staring at the grave, the dropped photograph face-down in the mud. Ethan had handed his brother the truth. Now he could not bring himself to leave him holding it alone. Sammy's shoulders shook. He picked the photograph back up. He did not wipe the dirt from it. "You were my brother," he said to the stone. His voice cracked. "I built my whole life around a man who never existed." He was speaking to no one he could see. But Ethan heard every word. Behind Ethan, the swamp stirred. Silas Murkwood rose from the muck, grey ribs breaking the surface, worms twisting in his empty sockets. He watched the open door with his wide, patient grin. "The door waits for no ghost, dead man," he said. "Go. His grief is his now, not yours. That was the trade." "I made him like this," Ethan said. He stayed kneeling. "I can't just walk through and leave him in the dirt." Silas drifted closer. Water ran off his jaw. "You cannot stay. Guilt held you here. Now you've handed it back. Stay, and you'll rot in this yard beside me. He cannot hear your comfort. The dead don't get to make it right." Ethan looked at his brother. Sammy pressed the photograph to his chest. Then he did something Ethan did not expect. He laid one hand flat on the cold headstone. "I don't know what you did," Sammy whispered. "But you were still mine. I'm going to bury the rest of it. I have to." Something loosened in Ethan's chest. He understood then. Sammy was not asking him to stay. Sammy was letting him go. Lingering would not lift the weight. It would only trap them both in the same cold yard. Ethan reached out. His hand passed through Sammy's hair without a sound. "Thank you," he said. "I'm sorry. For all of it." He stood. He stepped toward the glowing door. The light wrapped his arms, warm for the first time in years. Behind him, the raven lifted off the broken eaves and landed on the headstone beside Sammy's hand. It did not scream now. It only settled, close, as if to stay. Ethan crossed the threshold. The yard, the swamp, and Silas's grin fell away behind him. Ethan let out a breath he was holding in. Below, Sammy sat alone with the raven and the stone. He was still grieving. But now he grieved the truth. The haunt was quiet. The ghost it had held was gone. Ethan was walking down a long hallway with bright lights when a sudden thought hit him like a brick. He couldn’t stay here, not yet. He remembered there was a reason he had killed that evil woman. She was going to cast a spell on him and Sammy. Ethan turned and ran toward the door and got out just in time to see the door close and latch behind him. Silas shook his head in dismay when he saw him.