Chapter 39: 38 – Diana

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“Diana?”

Diana turned around to look for the source of the soft voice, and confirmed that it was Neon—who had just stepped around the corner and was leaning against it, hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans.

“Hi, Neon. Why is there a tentacly thing not nearly as cute as Banana inside a glass ball that doesn’t seem to have any seams?”

“It’s a tiny eldritch horror that Mistress and Maggie and the founders of three other houses stuck in there after it started trying to eat in-between houses. It’s actually big enough to swallow the whole house and everyone in it, which I gather is tiny for an eldritch horror? But the spell keeps it trapped in there. There’s some cross-universe stuff that really makes my brain hurt, and I live with Fifi and in this house.”

“Okay then. I suppose inside a closet in the upstairs hallway makes as much sense as anywhere for something like that.”

“Well, no one really wants to look at it all the time. And the thought of one of the cats knocking it on the floor and batting it around is not very comfortable, even though that wouldn’t break the spell. Could you come down to the great hall, please?”

“Sure. Is everything okay?”

“Mistress wants to talk to you.”

Diana shrugged, and went with Neon, down the broad stairs. She’d spent so much time roaming this house that it felt familiar to her by now. “History? Or did I do something wrong?”

“Oh, you definitely haven’t done anything wrong. There’s absolutely nothing to worry about. I promise.”

If Diana had learned anything about Neon tonight, it was that she was reliable. She’d come back to the library to remind them about the time, and had turned up repeatedly to be encouraging and supportive and sometimes informative, without ever being intrusive.

When they stepped from the landing onto the lower stairs, Diana saw a lot of people seated around the great hall. The whole household, in fact.

“You’re okay,” Neon told Diana, with a sympathetic smile. “This won’t take long. Just trust me, please, there’s nothing to be afraid of.” She laid a hand briefly on Diana’s shoulder, and went to sit on a loveseat with Jake, who shifted position and dropped an arm casually around her shoulders. She leaned against him.

“So,” Ségolène said. She alone was on her feet, with a black-and-white cat on the floor beside her. Or maybe not. That weird shiny highly-decorated armour was behind her and a step to the side, though not moving. “Most Hallowe’ens, I ask for thoughts from all of you before any decision is made. This year, I have spent much more time with our guest personally than is typical. But there is a fact that weighs very heavily on the scales. Would you agree, loves, that Diana is brave and accepting and curious and friendly?”

“Once she got the hang of it,” Sally giggled. “After a rough start.”

“But that’s understandable,” Thalia added. “We have had guests fail to find their feet even well into the night.”

“I think it’s a fair assessment, Mistress,” Neon said, and multiple heads nodded.

Ségolène echoed the nod. “Diana. If we have doubts about a guest, they leave with no recollection of anything that happened here. If we feel we can trust a guest, I can ensure that memories remain. In occasional cases, a guest is invited to remain indefinitely, but your daughter is waiting for you which makes that question entirely moot. The only question that remains, and I suspect I know the answer, is whether you wish to remember or would prefer to forget us.”

“I want to remember,” Diana said immediately. “I won’t tell anyone else.”

Ségolène nodded. “I believe you, but for those who leave with intact memories, I must ask that you swear an oath to me that you will keep silent about us. It would be... problematic... were we to draw too much attention.” She offered her hand. “Lay your hand in mine and promise, and that will be enough. But know that if you break it, there will be consequences, and ill luck will follow you thereafter.”

“I don’t need a threat,” Diana said. “I keep my word. But I can understand why.” She laid her hand over Ségolène’s slim pale one. “I promise, consequences to me or not, that I’ll keep the secret of this house and not talk about it.”

Ségolène smiled and inclined her head, letting her hand fall. “I believe you. Richard? Do you have our gift?”

“Right here, m’love.” Richard rose from his chair and came to join them. He offered Diana a thick rectangular package wrapped in brown paper and tied four ways with a pale ribbon that sparkled strangely. “For someone so very appreciative of our house and history.”

“Do not open it until you are out of the living house,” Ségolène said, still smiling, as Diana accepted the package. “It holds copies meant to endure in your world, but the transition might be too much to bear unprotected. Do what you wish with the contents.”

Diana looked down at her clothes. “I suppose I should find my own things...”

“You’ll be back in your clothes when the sun rises, with all your possessions. Diana, life is always uncertain, in any century. If circumstances change, or if you simply have no other plans for a Hallowe’en night, we will still be here and you are welcome to return.”

“I... thank you. This has been a very bizarre night but really extraordinary at the same time.”

“That is good to hear.”

Neon stood up, and picked up Diana’s big canvas hobo bag from a small table, slinging the strap on her own shoulder. “C’mon, I’ll walk you to the door.”

“Bye, Diana,” Sally said. “I’m glad you’ll remember us.”

“Come visit someday,” Dora said. “If you can.”

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“And give your daughter a hug for us,” Ophelia added.

“I will,” Diana said, and heard herself sniffle. “I feel like Dorothy leaving Oz.”

Sally giggled. “But in the books, she comes back multiple times and finally stays. So that’s not a bad way to see it.”

“Yeah. I think I’ll start reading them to Emily. Even if she’s too little to really absorb them yet. Bye.” She ground her teeth together, refusing to cry. She’d known it was one night. Early on, she’d hoped fervently that it would end soon. That had changed. She had changed. Under other conditions, things might have been different. But trading her loving boyfriend and their beloved daughter? That price was unthinkable.

Neon went with her to the front door, and handed her the hobo bag. “Everything except your clothes is in here, and as soon as you leave, the dress you’re wearing will be back in Cosmo’s room and you’ll have your own clothes on. You know that painting of the whole estate you were looking at with Mistress earlier? I checked, and it’s always been up in the morning room linking Master’s bedroom and Mistress’, in that corner that’s been locked all night near Cosmo’s rooms. I don’t know whether it’s still there or what condition it’s in, but you might be able to get a good photo of it for later reference. And the other photos and paintings might be in the library still, although probably not in good shape. Even if you don’t have pictures of how the house looks when its alive, I bet that with those and your present, you’ll be able to write one majorly impressive article about the Mallory house.”

“Thanks. I... I’ll look for those.” It would be creepy, she was certain, walking around the dead house after a night in the living one, but it would be worth it. Maybe she’d feel less sad if she had a connection to new friends still. “Thanks for everything tonight.”

Neon smiled. “Can I give you a hug?”

“Absolutely!” Diana flung both arms around her and hugged her tightly. “I’ll be back. Some Hallowe’en when you don’t expect it, bam, I’ll be back on the doorstep.”

“We’ll be watching for you.” Neon let go and, gently, wiped a tear away for Diana.

Diana blinked more tears away. Was it just that her vision was blurring, or was Neon growing indistinct as the white ghostly outline of dust sheets strengthened behind her?

Neon smiled and raised a hand in farewell. It was hard to be sure and impossible to make out details, but Diana thought her appearance was changing, in the scant heartbeats she had before the living house melted away entirely around her.

Leaving her alone in the dusty entrance hall, her own footsteps leading in the direction of the library and no other suggestion of any life beyond spiders and other creepy-crawlies.

She was back in her long denim skirt, her sensible low boots, her long-sleeved t-shirt and warm vest. The luxurious tea gown was only a memory. She did, however, have that.

She dug out her phone and checked. Service was intact.

Seven forty-three. Her daughter would have already woken and demanded breakfast.

She called home.

“Hello.”

“Hey, hon, it’s me. Everything good there?” No flower petals fell.

She set the package on a sheet-covered table and untied the ribbon. Some of the sparkle faded but it remained solid in her hand. So, carefully, she unwrapped the package.

A large key on a salmon-pink ribbon lay on top of three old books.

“For sure. Munchkin just finished eating, and she’s being a good girl... aren’t you, babe? Yeah, it’s mommy on the phone. She remembers us while checking out old houses.”

The humour in his voice made her smile. “I love you.”

“Love you too. You okay?”

The first book was Ségolène’s journal of building the house, though it looked older. The other two were of similar age and in the same hand but less easily identified. Checking those out was something to look forward to.

“Yeah. Just wanted to say it. Look, I got some interesting notes and things last night, but the lighting was just so bad by the time I got here, the pictures I did get are just hopeless. Are you okay if I’m a little late while I do a fast run through the house to get pics? I already did all the exploration and all so it shouldn’t take all that long.”

“You do what you need to do. You can hardly do a post with no pics. We’ll be fine. We can stand missing you for an extra couple of hours. Right, Emily? Yeah, we’ll go with that as a yes. We’ll be here when you get home.”

“Thanks. You’re amazing. Don’t ever let me forget that.”

“I won’t,” he laughed. “I bet you haven’t had anything to eat. Make sure you find a decent breakfast somewhere.”

“I will. Love you both. Home soon.” She hung up and slid the phone back into her bag, then wrapped her extraordinary present back into the thick brown paper for safety since it wouldn’t fit into even the generous space of her bag.

Oz was wonderful and full of marvellous things and remarkable people, but Kansas—or at least, Ontario—was where home and family were.

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