As the silence dragged on, Tucker thought of Kai. He felt as if he had failed her; and in reality, he had. But he was still trying, and that had to be worth something. It just had to be.

  The silence was suddenly broken by Doc's voice saying, "Just so you know, Gisele dyed your hair. I hate to tell you what color it is. You would think pink, but no."

  Doc paused, then said, "It's pure black. Tessa hates it. She says it makes your skin look bleached. So Gisele added stars. Your hair looks like a goddamn constellation. If that's not enough motivation to wake up, I don't know what is," Doc drawled softly.

  Tucker grinned. If he could, he would, just so he could see the look on D-Dog's face. But he couldn't. One, because he didn't know how. And two, because he had a promise to keep.

  "I spoke to Nefeli," Doc went on. "She told me what you were trying to do. It was smart of you to realize that it wasn't her ancestors. Jury's doing some research, but he's not optimistic. Deals are deals, he said."

  There was a shrug to that statement. Tucker felt it.

  "I tried to do my thing, but it didn't take," Doc stated, his tone laced with frustration. "I guess not all the dead are bound to do my bidding," he added with a chuckle.

  Tucker wasn't sure what that meant, but it sounded nearly as scary as that howling monster did.

  Doc was the boogeyman, not the flipping reaper.

  It was hard to put D-Dog in a single category though, and Tucker had tried. He and Apollo had spent a couple of Thursdays trying.

  Nothing. Nada. Doc was impossible to categorize.

  "I've got a thing I need to do," Doc said, scattering Tucker's thoughts. "I won't be around for a while. I don't like leaving you like this, but…"

  The helplessness in Doc's voice mirrored Tucker's own thoughts.

  "I've looked for you in the dreaming, but you're not there. I asked the memory where you went, but I ran into the same problem I had with Gac. The fact that you're a ghost makes it tough to find you."

  Tucker couldn't help feeling happy at Doc's statement. He had always known that D-Dog would look for him, but it was nice to know that he actually had. Even if he had failed. That was kind of nice too. The idea of D-Dog failing at something made Tucker grin.

  "I order you to wake up by the time I return," Doc said. "You're turning the Graves women grey, and I can't allow that."

  Tucker felt a surge of guilt. He knew D-Dog wasn't trying to guilt him; D-Dog wasn't like that, but his words guilted Tucker nonetheless. He hadn't meant to worry anyone; he had simply been trying to protect Kai. It was what Doc would have done.

  But that wasn't why Tucker had done it. He had done it because it was what Ghost Guy would do, and that was who he was. Ghost Guy. It was his job to help ghosts. It was his job because no one else could see them. And it wasn't a job that had been thrust upon him; it was a job he had taken up.

  Apollo said that was less of a job and more of an occupation, but Tucker didn't get the distinction. All he knew was that ghosts were basically mute. No one could see them. No one could hear them. But he could. Which meant that he couldn't walk away, no matter how scared he was.

  Doc's voice cut into his thoughts.

  "I'm not sure I can help you with this one, little brother. So you do what you need to do, and you come home, alright?"

  Tucker woke with a start, tears filling his eyes. Doc's words had effectively murdered Tucker's clinging hope that D-Dog would somehow save him. It had also murdered the lingering thought that he might be in a coma. If he was just in a coma, someone in Doc's crew would know.

  Hell was real, and Tucker was in it. He wasn't alone. They were there, watching over what was left of him; but they couldn't help him, not here.

  If Tucker wanted to save Kai, he was going to have to be better than he was. His entire life he had sort of been pulled along in other people's wakes. First Sissy's, then he had drifted, and then Doc had come along and changed everything. But now it was just Tucker, and he was going to have to be brave and smart and clever. Three things he had never been.

  Adelaide was brave though. Every night she shielded him from the howling monster, and it had been beyond stupid to leave her.

  "Thank you for protecting me," he whispered softly. "I'm sorry I left."

  "I am glad you are safe," Adelaide replied. "And today you will see. We are near. I told you we were near."

  Tucker laughed softly. He had been looking at the mountains when the darkness had fallen last night, and they had been just as far away as always.

  "The light comes," Adelaide said.

  Her roots opened, and Tucker stepped out onto the yellow plain. And gazed up in shock at the rolling green hills that were right in front of him.

  "What the hell?" he exclaimed.

  "Nothing is ever as it seems," she replied.

  "No shit," he muttered.

  "Kai," Adelaide said.

  The name pulsed across the short expanse of plain, then wiggled through the grasses of the hills. Up and up, forever and ever up.

  "Kai is near," she stated.

  He wasn't going to question Adelaide this time. He was never going to question her again. If she said Kai was near, Kai was near.

  He looked up at his strange tree-like companion, grinned widely, and said, "Let's go get her."

  Adelaide didn't have a face, but he felt as if she smiled back at him.

  "This is a dangerous area," she said gently.

  He glanced up at the hills, already questioning his decision not to question her. It looked perfectly innocent to him. In fact, it looked just like a patch of hills he had seen in Ireland with Doc. And the mountains beyond looked just like mountains.

  "Your state draws them to us. If you are happy, all will be well. If you are scared…"

  She trailed off, and for the first time since he had met her, Adelaide seemed frightened.

  She shook herself and straightened before saying.

  "Do not be afraid. No matter what happens, do not be afraid."

  She clearly didn't know him very well. Telling him not to be afraid was like triggering his fear, but he forced himself to smile and said, "And how do you suggest I go about that?"

  "Hold on to whatever makes you happy. Seize whatever makes you kind. And then we will find Kai."

  Tucker couldn't stop the nervous laugh that burst from him.

  "I am with you," Adelaide said soothingly.

  "What are you?" Tucker asked. "Are you an entity?"

  "What is an entity?"

  "A being that feeds on emotion."

  "We all feed on emotion here. It is our nature. To live is to feed."

  Tucker could hardly understand that, and he certainly couldn't count it.

  "We are losing the light," Adelaide said.

  "But—"

  "We must move now. Hold on to happy."

  Without saying anything more, Adelaide lifted Tucker, set him in place, and began to climb.

  Tucker immediately missed the boring consistency of the endless plains. The green hills looked normal enough, but as Adelaide traversed over them, she lurched and stumbled so much that she had to hold Tucker in place with a root belt.

  He jostled from side to side, nausea filling him. This was worse than Tessa's driving. And he knew without a doubt that he wouldn't have been able to navigate it on his own.

  Maybe luck was a thing. How else could he explain Adelaide waking up because of his voice?

  He vaguely remembered Sissy telling him once that everyone made their own luck. She said it was a little like karma. If you sent out good, good came back to you. He hadn't believed her though. Oh, she hadn't been lying to him; she had really believed it. But he knew better. There was no one nicer than Sissy. No one. She gave, and she helped, and no one ever returned the favor, so he had concluded that she had on those rose-colored glasses people sometimes talked about. She didn't quite understand the world the way it was. People took; they never gave.

  Tucker lost his hold of that thought as he became aware of an odd sound. He listened to it, trying to understand it, then he realized that it was the sound of teeth or claws gnashing together. He quickly looked around, searching for the source, and gulped wildly when he saw the six-legged creature that was chasing up the slopes after them.

  "Um… shit… Um… D-Dog taught me how to swim," Tucker said hurriedly. "That was fun. I didn't know how to swim before, but it's really not that hard," he babbled.

  The creature was still coming, and it probably would as long as he was looking at it, so Tucker forced his eyes to close. They snapped back open. It was already closer.

  "Shit, shit, shit. Happy, I'm happy. I have to be happy."

  He closed his eyes once more and tried to forget that a creature with six legs and an incalculable number of teeth was chasing after him.

  He needed to think happy thoughts, but thinking of Sissy always made him a little sad even if it was a happy memory. So he couldn't think of her.

  Doc usually made him feel safe, but he wasn't always happy when he was with Doc. Doc expected things; not verbally, but D-Dog just always expected people to be the best of themselves, and Tucker didn't know how.

  "Happy, happy, happy," he mumbled.

  Surely there was something that made him happy.

  The noise was louder now, and he tried not to imagine all of those teeth sinking into his flesh.

  "Happy!" Tucker yelled out.

  He wasn't though. He was terrified. He hadn't been this terrified since…

  The bed.

  Only that had been a totally different sort of fear because he had known that Johnny Baker wasn't going to let him fall. Jules Baker might, but she would probably catch him before he hit the ground.

  How they had laughed. That crazy shrieking laughter you laugh when you're terrified, but you know everything is okay and nothing bad will happen in the end, so it's just fun.

  At least it had been fun until Johnny and Jules had decided to take the loopy-doop, and Tucker had ended up hanging from the bedpost, laughing and screaming at the same time.

  He laughed now, just thinking of it. He had actually kissed the ground when they landed. Frankie had rolled her eyes, but she hadn't been up in the air, flying with the geese.

  "I'm never doing that again," Tucker had exclaimed, as he flopped onto the grass next to Johnny.

  "Oh, come on," Johnny had replied. "We should try the wheelbarrow next."

  "Hell, no!"

  But they had, and it had been just as terrifying and just as exhilarating.

  After they had flown around in the wheelbarrow, they had played go fish with Addison, and then Frankie had made them all pancakes. After pancakes, Johnny and Jules had put on a fireworks show. Only it was magic, not fireworks, and almost entirely purple.

  Tucker laughed softly, remembering how Frankie had complained. It had been a teasing sort of complaining, but she had said, "Would it kill you guys to make some yellow fireworks?"

  "Yeah," Johnny had retorted.

  That had been a good day. A happy day.

  When Tucker was with the Bakers, he could pretend that he was only fifteen or ten or whatever age he was inside. He could pretend that he didn't care about things like groceries and bills. He could pretend that he didn't need to keep track of his appointments and who to pay when. And he liked that.

  He would be glad to see the Bakers again. If he ever saw them again.

  "Hold on to it," Adelaide murmured.

  Tucker exhaled with frustration. He had forgotten that he was trying to do a thing, and his mind had slipped into his old pattern of sadness.

  He remembered the bed ride and the laugher once more before opening his eyes and glancing around. The toothy monster was gone.

  "I can do this," Tucker said. "I just have to find the right moments."

  Since he wasn't steering or anything, he closed his eyes and remembered the last time he had played pool with D-Dog. Tucker had won because he was very good at calculating angles.

  He remembered his last logic meeting with Apollo. They had discussed subliminal advertising. Tucker had used several food packages for his demonstration, and Apollo had used some commercials they had recently seen. Both of them agreed that subliminal advertising was very real indeed. What they had argued about was whether or not it worked on all people in the same way.

  Tucker had been certain it didn't because not everyone liked the same things or had had the same experiences. For instance, he hadn't ever had a grandma, so the Grandma's cookie brand wasn't all that appealing to him.

  Apollo had made a pretty convincing case for ancestral knowledge though. He had argued that someone in Tucker's family line had had a grandma, so the knowledge was there, inside of Tucker somewhere.

  The debate had gotten quite heated and had ended with Tucker eating all of his show and tell items.

  Afterwards they had played a video game together. Apollo was getting stronger, and he had learned to use a game controller. Tucker had won, so he had forced Apollo to listen to the music band Cake. That had been a good day too.

  Tucker suddenly laughed, remembering the time D-Dog had taken him to the indoor trampoline park. The looks Doc had gotten still cracked him up. He doubted if anyone had ever jumped on a trampoline in a vest and dress shirt before, but Doc didn't seem to know the meaning of dressing down. Even at the beach, he had worn fitted linen clothes.

  "It is dark," Adelaide suddenly said.

  Tucker's eyes flew open. It was dark.

  "Was that faster than usual?" he asked.

  "There is no set time for dark," she replied. "It is dark when it is dark; it is light when it is light."

  A wave of despair washed over him. At this rate, they would never reach Kai.

  "You are still in danger," Adelaide said as she lowered him to the ground. "You must focus on happiness."

  "I'm trying," Tucker grumbled.

  He crawled into his little nest, settled into place, and tried to push away his impending sense of failure. He couldn't afford to think that way. Not here.

  "Why are you helping me?" he asked softly.

  "I like you."

  "Why?"

  "You are kind."

  "Is that enough reason to like someone?" he demanded.

  "I never felt kindness before you. I never felt before you. I had no thought before you. You gave me thought. You gave me name. I… I… There is a word. I have felt it from you. It is like like but bigger."

  "Love?" Tucker suggested.

  "Yes! I love you."

  Tucker involuntarily gasped. And something inside of him swelled and ached at the same time.

  "But… But… Why?" he whispered.

  "Do I need a reason to love?"

  Didn't she? Didn't everyone? One plus one equaled two. But how could he equate or count love? It just wasn't countable.

  "I… I don't know," he finally said.

  And he didn't. He didn't know why Sissy had loved him, but he had always assumed it was because they shared blood. He didn't know why Doc loved him, but he kind of figured it was because Doc had a problem. He couldn't seem to help loving people, and Tucker had just happened across his path.

  Those were the only two people who had ever loved him. Because he wasn't Nevin. He didn't really have the big loving family that had crowded into his little hospital room and hugged and kissed all over him.

  "Happy," Adelaide pressed. "You must be happy. I am not strong enough to protect you here. You must protect yourself."

  Tucker immediately smiled, but he knew it was one of those sad smiles, the kind that wasn't really happy.

  This was so frigging hard. How could he focus on happiness when all of his life he had been one step away from ruin? Happiness for him had always been tinted with despair.

  Sissy had always laughed. She had always smiled. But there had been a desperation to her eyes that even as a child he had seen and understood. That desperation had carried him forward; it had carried him into Nevin's body.

  A wild multitude of howls shattered the silence. There wasn't just one creature anymore, but Tucker found himself unable to estimate how many there were. Adelaide's roots trembled, and he knew she was just as frightened as he was.

  "You know what makes me happy?" Tucker asked.

  "No."

  "You."

  He felt a burst of energy from her, a burst of warmth; and he felt her roots tighten around him, but not in a painful way.

  He grinned, closed his eyes, and let his weariness pull him under.

  The darkness was full of voices.

  "Stop that!" Jules snapped.

  "What? He'll love it," Johnny retorted.

  "No one loves a marker mustache," Frankie stated.

  "But Tucker will."

  Tucker laughed softly because Johnny was right. He had always thought that drawn-on mustaches were cool.

  "Are you using black, dear?" Gisele asked. "Black will match his hair."

  "Nah," Johnny said.

  And Tucker somehow knew that a careless shrug had accompanied Johnny's statement.

  "It's Electric Pink," Johnny added.

  Johnny really did know him well.

  "He looks sad," Addison's voice murmured. "Draw him a smile."

  "Done," Johnny announced.

  "Now he looks like a clown," Jules grumbled.

  "A happy clown," Johnny declared.

  "I miss him," Addison complained.

  "We all do, dear," Gisele said. "We must tell him so and hope he hears us. I'm currently reading him a wonderful book; would you like to listen?"

  "Grandma!" Tessa snapped.

  "What, dear?"

  "They are children. It is one thing to permanently scar Aaren; he's one of us. But you will not read to these children; they aren't ours to mess up."

  Gisele sighed and said, "When you're right, you're right."

  "I'm always right," Tessa snarled.

  "Hardly. For your sake, you mustn't stay too long, dears."

  "For our sake?" Jules asked curiously. "Whatever do you mean?"

  "We are mortal; you are witches. It's just good sense not to become too attached."

  For a moment no one spoke. Then Addison said softly, "But we're attached to Tucker."