"It's not– mostly power. Partly that. Doug." She lowers her voice. "He's been falling apart whenever we mention that he died. Contradicting the echo. He's as much ghost as he is himself. So if there's a way to give him humanity, well, he was already basically family. I'll tell him everything and suggest the familiar ritual."

"—that's a good idea. How to give him humanity, though? And does he still have all his memories?" she whispers back.

"He does; it's more that he can't safely have thoughts inconsistent with it being last year. That's just what ghosts are like. What the ritual does is connect an Other to a practitioner and let them piggyback off someone else's humanity. It's a commodity. A place hitched to the human side of the way of things. I think it'll stabilize him, at least as long as I'm alive."

"Oh I thought you meant give him humanity before the familiar ritual."

"No, during.

As far as power goes it'll cost almost as much as it helps, but it's not really about that anyway."

"Yeah. Still would be good to have him back."

"Definitely.

So I'll hide out for now, and flee later if it doesn't look like we have more of a chance. The diabolists won't mind if I do a major ritual in their hideout, will they?"

"Well, they have only somewhat less to fear from the Lord than you, if it's going to be safe I don't think they will mind."

"Good. Or at least not bad. It's not dangerous at all."

"I'm sorry about all this."

"I'm trying to blame just the person who caused all this. But thanks."

"I usually don't—blame anyone other than myself."

"Then don't blame anyone. But don't blame the one person who's been trying to help instead of knuckling under and deciding it's impossible."

She shrugs uncomfortably.

Pretty uncomfortable all around. But they've at least got an actionable plan for the immediate future. Deadly peril is more important than discomfort usually.

Soon enough they'll arrive.

Diana is watching for signs of where one hides diabolists, and is half surprised by how ordinary it is. No flaming skulls or cursed knives that glow black at all.

Practitioners are on their guard when they notice their secrecy is threatened, but accept Sadde's claim that they aren't currently in danger.

And Diana did kinda help them a lot against that demon.

Yeah, sure, hiding a fugitive it is.

—speaking of the demon, has Diana considered feeding whatever trophy she stole to the fragment they captured? It gets forgotten, the Lord isn't out for her blood, back to normal.

—no.

Yyyeah let's not do that, the whole point of stealing the trophy was keeping him.

So, familiar ritual?

Familiar ritual. Most of the spectators are extremely unimpressed with Diana's choice of a ghost as familiar. Which is fine; she's not aiming for power anyway.

Doug gets visibly more transparent when Diana explains. Also horrified about what Conquest might do to her, but the non-human reactions are more concerning. Some of his sentences skip words, like unreadable patches on a record. But he notices it happening. "Don't have much choice, do I?" he answers when she brings up the ritual. "And– thanks. You shouldn't have saved me, but thanks."

She places the telescope that used to be his implement in the center of a circle. The circle is a live electrical circuit, featuring a glowing light bulb. Doug's suggestion for a symbol of human civilization, and probably as good as any. The Other gravitates toward the telescope and faces the practitioner.

"I, Douglas Abbeys, agree to be bound by the strictures of Solomon and the traditions of the practice," he begins.

Most of the actual promises exchanged seem outdated. From an era when familiars were servants or creatures being offered a dog's place. The wording stuck around, but it's common knowledge that the meaning evolved. Equality is in. Familiars and practitioners rarely try to dominate each other, so the spirits stop caring as much about the lopsidedness. 

"I, Diana Thompson, astrologer of Toronto, invite you into the world of man and mortal," she reads. They're looking at an old edition of Famulus, one of the first books Rose sent the cabal. "I offer you a place in my household in accordance with tradition. I agree to shelter you, whatever form of shelter you might require. My home and hearth are yours to share, in the brick and mortar, the demesne and the spiritual."

"I accept the offered shelter, and I agree to guard that territory as if it were my own." A smile from both of them. Subjunctive aside, they know it already is.

"I offer you sustenance, whatever form of sustenance you might need."

"I accept your sustenance, and lend you the strength I gain in return." The parties gloss over that part. Doug isn't going to do much guarding of any demesnes in exchange for sustenance.

"I give you asylum from the forces that follow you, as the old laws permit." Diana picks carefully over each word.

"By the compact, I follow you."

"I, Diana Thompson, give my protection to Doug Abbeys. I give this willingly, with no expectation of return, as he did for me when he took me in and again when he died for me. I will work with him and learn from him, and return as near as may be to our life together before."

"I, Doug Abbeys, give my knowledge and friendship and whatever I have left to give. I will guide you and help you when pass on our tradition, and protect you if I can."

They each accept. When they swear to bind themselves to their series of promises, Doug's shape changes. He blurs and shrinks into an eighteen-inch black bird.

...that's adorable.

"Crow? Could be worse." (His voice is completely unchanged.) "Di, you see why–"

"Of course. And welcome back."

"Hello. It's a pleasure to really meet you."

"Likewise. Being mostly dead does interfere with that, doesn't it. I wouldn't recommend it."