Slate listened, but the explanation left him more confused. “Isn’t that what we’re trying to do? Stop these ghosts from causing more trouble?”
“Did you know Ezra was a Quaker?” Dash opened the book and flipped to a premarked spot. “A central tenet of his faith was to be a peacemaker. Taking a life, even a dark spirit, went against the foundation of his beliefs.”
Dash had never mentioned being religious, and he certainly hadn’t mentioned being a Quaker. “I didn’t know that about him.”
“Neither did I until I read the book again.” He shut the book and leaned back. “I’m not a Quaker, but Ezra gave hislife to prevent more souls from being banished. The rush to expel Theodore and Wilbur without considering alternatives feels wrong. Like we’re dismissing his sacrifice in favor of doing what’s easy.”
Slate caught himself before he blurted out that he took exception to that characterization. Whether he agreed with the sentiment, he had to respect that this was how Dash felt. “I think they’re genuinely concerned about making sure the portal is safe. Something you were willing to die to create.”
“I agree the portal is important, but the whole ‘I have more experience, so you need to trust me,’ never worked for me,” Dash said. “Besides, nobody knows what happens when you banish a soul. Maybe it’s peaceful, but more likely it erases them from existence.” He pulled his knees up, making himself smaller. “Ghosts fear banishment for a reason. I’m not willing to destroy someone—obliterate their soul completely—without at least trying another option first.”
The dismissal of his opinion had upset Dash, but that was only part of the problem. Even if they’d listened, Dash would still have been upset. Maybe not get-up-and-leave-to-go-sit-on-a-roof upset, but he wouldn’t have been happy.
“Would you really have been okay with the result if they’d considered your suggestion?”
Dash ran his fingers over Slate’s hand while he considered the question. The light touch did bad things to Slate’s libido. Not that he even thought about asking Dash to stop.
“Honestly? I’m not sure,” Dash said. “I doubt I’d ever be okay with banishment being the first option.”
“Are you suggesting we wait until they’ve harmed more people to act?” It came out harsher than he planned. “Sorry, I’m trying to understand how you want us to deal with them. We asked them to leave, but they made it clear they weresticking around. And I know you felt them try to manipulate our emotions.”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean we erase them from existence.” He twisted in Slate’s arms until they could see each other. “There are other options.”
Dash had chosen his words carefully. He didn’t ask if there were other ways to deal with the ghosts—he told Slate therewereother options. “Such as?”
“What if we send them through the portal?”
Slate needed a moment to process the idea. “Through?”
“Yes. Through.” Dash barely held back a smile. “We remove the problem, but we don’t have to banish anyone. And according to Ezra’s journal, when they opened the portal for the first time, numerous dark souls wanted back into our world. Sending Theodore and Wilbur through won’t be rewarding their unacceptable behavior.”
Slate didn’t care about punishing them for their conduct, but preventing them from preying on anyone else mattered.
“Do you think we can force them through?”
“I don’t see why not,” Dash said. “Most souls go through voluntarily. Forcing someone through might change the mechanics, but it’s worth trying. If it fails, then we can say we tried before we terminate them.”
The ‘adults’ might not like it, but Dash’s idea achieved everything they wanted, yet stayed true to Ezra’s peacemaker legacy. If they objected, it would prove their true motives weren’t just to preserve the portal. Slate let them convince him there weren’t any other options. Dash proved they were wrong.
Slate might be susceptible to falling in line if his parents pushed hard enough, but he had plenty of backbone when he was right.
“All right,” Slate said. “Let’s do it.”
Chapter Twelve
“Why are we trying something new?” Slate’s father asked. “Banishing is a time-tested method that doesn’t put the portal at risk.”
The room felt like a ravine separating the two sides. Slate noticed how his parents and the Reeves had taken seats together, and Meredith stood by Dash. Of course, she did, and it gave Slate a chill. He found it interesting that the ghosts stood off to the side, observing but not interrupting.
“How is the portal at risk?” Dash asked. “Did you create it? Have you studied it? Or is that just fearmongering in hopes we’ll do it the way you want?”
“Dash,” Morten said in a stern voice. “Mind your manners.”
“Of course.” Dash folded his arms across his chest. “Just as soon as you and Clifford show me the same. I’m not stupid. My opinion matters as much as yours. You don’t get to dismiss me and then tell me to ‘mind my manners.’ It works both ways.”
The direct, sharp response put everyone back on their heels. Dash rarely drew lines in the sand like that, and never with his grandparents. He’d wanted Slate’s support earlier, but when it hadn’t materialized, Dash had backed down. Slate couldn’t change the past, but he planned to learn from his mistake.
The older generation stared at Dash with a mix of annoyance and anger. Except for Millicent, who couldn’t completely hide her smile.
