The high witch nodded, her wrinkled mouth curling softly. “Do you see now, Monroe? This must stop.” She had finally got his attention. She put her hand on his bulky chest as he helped her to her feet. “Didn’t you wonder why Ember has the power to release ghosts—your ghosts? No other witch has ever had the ability to do that.”
Ember stood on shaky legs, her eyes wide as she studied the high witch, trying to find herself in the woman’s form. She thought her nose might be the same, but the woman’s body was so broken down and her skin so wrinkled and saggy, it was hard to make out the shape of her face. Then she looked at the doctor and saw absolutely no similarity. Perhaps the witch was mistaken.
“Her power is comparable to yours,” the witch said. “You have the ability to split and imprison, to doom ghosts to gather in great storms, to steal souls who have bargained away their right to one through their own evil actions.” She gestured to Ember. “She chooses to use her power to unite and to heal and to send a soul to the place it belongs. Do you not see it?”
“No,” the doctor said. “Frankly, I don’t.” He took hold of the high witch’s hands. “Eleanor, are you certain of this?”
“Eleanor ?” Ember said. “I thought your name was Loren.”
She shook her head. “Loren is the name Melichor gave me. He called all his witches Loren. He said it was easier to remember all his wives’ names if they were the same, and he liked how Loren Lockett sounded.” She turned to the doctor. “While I explain, I think Ember needs to capture her lantern before he wanders off. Let her save him, Monroe. You of all people know what it’s like to be separated from the one you love.”
The doctor nodded distractedly.
Rune had also gotten to his feet and was staring down at Jack’s body. Well, he thought. This is certainly an interesting turn of events. It explained a lot. Ember was the offspring of a powerful witch and the boogeyman. Who knew what untapped power the girl possessed? He determined that it would be the wiser course to wait and see how things unfolded.
Far away, down the beach, Ember saw a ghost floating slowly away. “Jack!” she shouted.
The ghost paused.
“Jack! Come back!” She darted past the others and ran down the beach. He turned to her and looked at her with sad eyes. When she reached him, she was afraid to touch him, fearing that he would move on like the others. “Will you please just follow me?” she begged. “You need to hear what the high witch is saying.”
He lifted his hand as if to caress her face, but she swiftly moved back, not wanting him to disappear altogether. Jack’s mouth curled in a miserable imitation of a smile. “I’ve been following you around since you were a little girl,” he said. “I don’t want to haunt you, Ember O’Dare. As much as I want to be with you, you deserve to have a life. I would only get in the way of that.”
Turning, he began drifting again, and when she ran after him, he floated into the air, too high for her to reach. “Jack!” she shouted. “Jack, you get back here right now!” Desperate, she ran up the beach and grabbed the nearest broom. The black cat was curled in a ball on top of the straw. She tried to nudge it off, but it refused to budge. “Fine,” she said. “Just don’t blame me if you fall off.” Hopping on the broom, she steered it using witch power and headed up into the sky, chasing her Jack o’ the Lantern. The cat behind her hissed and arched its back, claws digging into the straw as it held on for dear life.
When she reached him and he still wouldn’t turn around, her face grew dark as new abilities, those of a boogeyman, sprang to life. Sparks lit beneath her skin, and time sped forward around them as she drew upon powers she didn’t even know she had. The setting sun was gone, and the moon rose rapidly until it framed Jack and Ember in its ghostly light. Ember cast out her hand, and slowly Jack’s ghost returned, straining to get away from both her and the hissing cat on the broom.
“It’s no use,” he said as she spun him around in the air, tethering his soul to her own. “My pumpkin is gone. I’ve lost my ember.”
“No,” the witch said, her voice deep and resounding as she floated on her broomstick, “you haven’t.”
As quickly as possible, Dr. Farragut—or the boogeyman, or Ember’s father—rushed everyone safely back to his island. Now that he knew he wasn’t the only one of his kind, that he had a daughter, he couldn’t imagine destroying her, even if it meant saving his love. He hoped he could teach Ember the ways of a boogeyman quickly enough that she could help save her mother. He generously freed a rather angry Delia. Then it was time for Jack.
The doctor cleared the room of cats, and Jack’s ghost drifted in through the open window. Then Farragut helped his daughter, teaching her to channel her energy so that she could bind Jack to his body, reversing what had been done to him, and learning in the process one of her father’s greatest powers of creation. It drained both of them to do so. “It always takes more energy to join and build than to destroy, my dear,” he told her afterward.
In the days that followed, Rune stayed close and observant. It was his belief that there was much to learn from the boogeyman. He took on the role of Ember’s personal bodyguard so he could be there for every lesson.
For days, Jack slept. The doctor told her he suspected it was a normal reaction. Jack was human now, after all, and hadn’t slept properly in centuries. She held his hand and prayed that the boogeyman was right.
Eventually, he did begin to wake, rising only long enough to drink some water and eat a little food before falling asleep again. Meanwhile, Ember got to know her mother. She discovered that when her mother’s village had been attacked, she’d saved Ember by giving her to a will-o’-the-wisp who owed her a favor. Then she sent familiars—hers were cats—to watch over Ember as the years passed.
The sprite took care of the baby, slowing her age for decades, until she could do no more for the child. Ember had grown too big to keep in the forest, and to hold her development back further would only harm the girl. So the wisp found an aging woman with no children, one with kind feelings toward witches and an affinity for cats, and cast a spell.
The cats who watched over Ember reported all this to her mother, crossing the barrier, and quietly passing on news of her daughter.
Everything was fine for Ember in the mortal world until Monroe caught wind of her, literally. He used his powers to summon her, a strong compulsion for any witch, but one undeniable to his own daughter. It was true that Eleanor sent Dev after her daughter. She’d wanted to meet Ember, but was also desperate to keep her away from Melichor, the Lord of the Otherworld. Once Ember was in the Otherworld, Melichor’s spies learned of her, and Eleanor had to warn Dev to keep her away.
Meanwhile, Farragut was maneuvering events to unfold the way he wanted as well. He bribed Payne to send the vampire and his charge in the direction of his island. He hadn’t known that the witch was his daughter, or that he even had one.
Ember had no memory of the decades in the forest or of the will-o’-the-wisp, but she vowed that when her mother was strong enough, they would seek her out, as well as Flossie, the sweet old woman who’d raised her, and thank them together. Eleanor smiled sadly at this, but Ember could think of no better place for her aunt to retire than on a tropical island paradise surrounded by dozens of cats.
Soon Delia, Graydon, and Dev departed in the doctor’s gifted skyship. Dev had finally given up on trying to sway Ember in matters of romance, though his blood still sang for him to locate the one woman he could love and give his whole heart to. He swore with a final vampire vow that he was in earnest about leaving her to fashion her own happily-ever-after. This time Ember didn’t taste his blood. She hugged him and then Delia and Graydon. They were gone before Jack got to say goodbye.
It had become obvious to all that there was no separating Ember from her lantern, though technically, Jack was no longer a lantern. He had become fully mortal again and found he didn’t mind it so much, especially when he had Ember fo
r a nursemaid. Still, he did admit, he missed his pumpkin sorely.
The power in the Otherworld was rapidly dwindling, and with the Lord of the Otherworld dead, the people looked to the high witch for help, so Ember went to the capital with her mother. Once they were ensconced, they were able to boost the fuel stores for a while, but the energy shortage appeared to be irremediable. A new solution needed to be discovered, and soon. They needed the witches back.
Finney volunteered to head back to the mortal world and send whatever witches he could find to the Otherworld. Ember was nearly devastated to see him go, and cried for a solid hour. But Finney promised to cross over every once in a while for long visits, now that she and her mother had lightened the restrictions on passing between realms.
Once he was gone and everything settled, Ember tried again to heal her mother. Years fell away from her face, but as soon as Ember’s hands lifted, they piled back on. Ember wiped a tear from her cheek. “I can’t do it.”
“Try again,” Jack answered softly.
“It’s no use,” Dr. Farragut said. “Her body has been taxed too much. If only I wasn’t limited to this form, I could release her from these shackles and speed away with her.”
Ember’s mother patted the doctor’s hand. “It is enough to be reunited with you and with my daughter,” she said. “This time we’ve had together has been wonderful.”
“What holds you to your form, Doctor?” Jack asked.
“My name,” he said. “When I changed into this…this flabby body, I lost my name. I wrote it down before I condescended, giving it up so I wouldn’t be discovered, but I don’t remember where I left it.”
Determined, Ember began again, this time pouring as much energy as she could into her mother. The lights overhead dimmed and flickered and the woman’s dry, brittle hair turned from gray to sandy blond to platinum. Her skin tightened and her lips turned glossy and rosy, her cheeks shiny. Still Ember strained, her slender arms trembling as her mother became lissome and beautiful.
Jack gasped as he recognized her young face. “Eleanor?”
Ember’s eyes flew open and she drew her hands back. For a moment, Ember thought she’d won, that her mother was healed, but to her dismay, the years came back, slower this time; it was obvious that she’d failed again.
“Didn’t you know Eleanor was Ember’s mother?” the doctor asked Jack.
“I knew she was a witch, but you’ve never called her Eleanor, and Ember’s last name is O’Dare, not Dare.”
“I thought you’d forgotten me,” the witch explained. “And I didn’t want to burden your mind further. We kept the name Loren so as not to confuse the people here. You were unconscious for most of our time on the island. The ‘O’ in O’Dare was given to Ember by the will-o’-the-wisp.” She smiled softly as her gleaming hair became spare and stringy again. “She wanted to give Ember a little piece of herself and shared the ‘O.’ ”
“Doctor,” Jack said. “Did you happen to leave your name near a skeleton?”
His eyes widened in hope. “Why, yes. It was near Eleanor’s village. I fashioned myself a body from the pinky bone of a man who’d been killed.”
“Then…then I think I know your name!” Jack said excitedly.
“What is it?” Ember asked.
“It’s Croatoan.”
“Croatoan,” the doctor echoed, the name bouncing around the walls of the room. All at once a powerful wind whipped around the group. They heard a roar, and before their eyes, the doctor’s body melted away. Sparks of energy swirled and coalesced, and then a large creature stood before them. His skin was red, his arms and chest thick and strapping.
Gone was the portly, bowlegged man with combed-back hair. In his place stood a mountain of a being with hair the color of midnight that hung in long layers of glossy curls. A widow’s peak marked the center of his forehead, and his dark eyes gleamed with mischief.
Jack could see the same defiant chin on Ember, and the same hard sparkle in her eye when she was irritated. Croatoan took Eleanor by the hand, and the years fell away from her like molting feathers. She breathed in deeply and tossed her luxuriant hair over her shoulder. The couple embraced, and the boogeyman clutched the diminutive witch’s hand in his. It engulfed hers completely.
Ember’s father was intimidating, but he smiled at Jack, and the former lantern almost winced at the brightness of his teeth. That such a being had been trapped in the form of the doctor for so many years was quite a feat.
“You’ve freed me,” he said in a booming voice. “In exchange, I will grant you a gift. Name your heart’s desire and it’s yours.”
“I…” Jack swallowed nervously. “I suppose, then, that my heart’s desire is to be with Ember always, and for the two of you to give us your blessing.”
“Of course you have our blessing,” Ember’s lovely mother said.
“Yes,” Croatoan agreed. “But as to the matter of being with her always, I’m afraid that is impossible. I told you that I am nearly five thousand years old. Ember is destined to live at least half that long. With you being a mortal, long years of loneliness stretch before her. Unless…”
“Unless?” Jack said.
“Unless you are willing to become a lantern again.”
“I’m willing,” Jack said. “But my pumpkin is gone.”
“You don’t need a pumpkin,” Croatoan replied with a laugh. “All you need is an Ember. Fortunately for you, you already have one. And this time, you’ll only be chained to her.” The red-skinned man leaned forward and clapped him on the back. “Are you certain it’s what you want? It could very well be that she’ll be a harsher taskmaster than Rune and I ever were.”
Jack turned to Ember with a soft smile and knelt before her. Taking her hands in his, he said, “I can’t think of a better person to be shackled to for eternity.”
“So be it.” The boogeyman slapped his hands and a portion of Jack’s soul leapt from his body, turned to a pinprick of white light, and sank into Ember’s heart, where it would stay as long as they both lived.
It was Finney who started the tradition. He’d shared many stories with the villagers about his friends, and they were welcomed with open arms.
That first year, he picked a day when the fall leaves swept the ground and the scarecrows trembled in the fields. It was always Ember’s favorite time of year. Finney welcomed Dev, Delia, Graydon, Frank, Ember, and Jack to the village with a feast and a bonfire to celebrate how they’d saved the mortal world and the Otherworld from the device that had almost destroyed them.
Ember rode in on her broomstick, bringing her aunt a new kitten that trembled on the back. Jack summoned Shadow and rode him down the main street, the stallion’s nostrils shooting steam. When Frank saw that he frightened the children, he gave them rides on his broad shoulders to win them over. Ember gave them some of the chocolate candies she always kept in her pockets, while Jack showed off his skeleton. Graydon changed to a wolf and howled at the moon, and Delia and Dev bared their fangs.
The next year, the children waited for them with little pails for treats and dressed up in costumes so they’d look like the Otherworlders. Ember and Jack cried when they saw that Finney had asked everyone to carve pumpkins and light them to mark the path from the crossroad to the town. The tradition caught on, and soon crossroads all over the world opened on that one night and the mortal realm was haunted by ghosts, goblins, witches, werewolves, and vampires.
Jack became known as the father of lights, though he left the job of head lantern to Rune, who had finally given up his quest to take over the Otherworld after Jack caught him trying to put an onyx ring on Ember’s finger. Jack peered into his former mentor’s soul and snapped his fingers. The firefly earring where Rune kept his ember flew to Jack’s hand.
“The boogeyman gave me an extra gift when he made me a lantern again,” Jack said. “I can read thoughts as well as souls. You know that Ember has
the power to destroy you, but we have agreed that if you remain true to us, you may stay. The minute you conspire, however, I will summon your light and Ember will send it on. Do you understand?”
“I do.”
Rune immediately knelt, agreeing to the terms, and became the most loyal of lanterns. At least, that was what he wanted everyone to believe.
Strangely enough, Rune was remembered as more of a pirate than a lantern. Still, he loved seeing children dressed up as swarthy pirates on the holiday. Rumors flew that Yegor had lived and escaped to the human world, but no one ever heard from him again. Delia and Graydon actually did settle down in their later years, Graydon becoming a chocolatier, much to Ember’s delight.
Finney was indeed apprenticed to the boogeyman, who was happy to teach him everything he knew, though Croatoan only appeared in Finney’s dreams. Together they were working on a very promising piece of technology that could capture aetheric energy from the natural stores that existed around the Otherworld island where the doctor had once made his home.
Frank became captain of the skyship Dr. Farragut bequeathed to Graydon. Finney personally created several upgrades for him and even introduced Frank to the half woman, half automaton he’d created, who eventually became his bride. Together they flew their skyship until it was no longer able to lift off the ground.
Dev eventually headed to the mortal world, searching for what he felt was missing in his life. Ember heard he finally settled in a place called Transylvania.
As for Ember, she kept her broomstick, black cat, and witch hat close, but her lantern closer.
Ember and Jack are still alive today, and every so often, they make an appearance. If you look carefully at the harvest moon on a Halloween night, you might see the shadow of a witch being chased by a rather enthusiastic pumpkin.
In the great city of Itjtawy, the air was thick and heavy, reflecting the mood of the men in the temple, especially the countenance of the king and the terrible burden he carried in his heart. As King Heru stood behind a pillar and looked upon the gathered people, he wondered if the answer his advisers and priests had given was their salvation or instead, their utter destruction.
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