Re: Hannah & Jeremiah; Jester's Court
Perhaps he ought to ask more questions about it -- whether it was real or true, or if he was dreaming. Perhaps he ought to be more skeptical of the whole thing. The old him would have been skeptical, but the old him skirted any belief in ghosts and curses and misfortunes. The old him kept Ghost Lights on in the theatre, and wouldn't call the play anything but the Scottish Play, and yet, he didn't really believe in any of it -- not really.
That had been before Repose, before vampires, and werewolves, and strange movements underneath his feet, and woods that weren't quite right, and parties that seemed to shift who you were.
"All the way to the top," he told her, looking up, and a flash of a memory of another ferris wheel was there before he could push it away, but he did push it away, it had no place here tonight.
He reached for her, wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her towards the wheel, towards the shadowy people who were standing there waiting, but there wasn't any waiting to board it, and he held her hand to help her into the small carriage, and he turned to look at her. "What if we get stuck at the top?"