A choked sob tore from Mertha's throat. She threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around the massive, spectral form of her husband.
Though his body was made of soul-stuff and cold blue flames, Theumir held her tightly, burying his heavy, bearded face into her shoulder. Mertha wept openly, her cries echoing into the quiet street.
After a long moment, Theumir pulled back just enough to look at her, his spectral eyes shimmering. "The children, Mertha... where are they?"
Mertha wiped her face frantically, turning back toward the interior of the cottage. "Lyra! Dared! Come here, quickly!"
Theumir's eyes widened, a look of profound shock and joy washing over his ghostly features. "Dared? Our son... you gave him the name I wanted?"
Footsteps hurried across the floorboards. Dared appeared first, freezing in his tracks when he saw the Percival standing on their porch.
"Percival?" he asked, surprised. "You're back!"
Then, Lyra stepped out from the kitchen. "Already?" she said.
