From just below Pouch's shoulder, Viola chimes in. At first, she speaks softly, really just to the obsidian, star flecked boy. "I don't know how much you know about us but sometimes, after death, we come back as ghosts. Like Lionel's—El's—father, Mr. Qualls," she explains in the flat affect of an academic, "We've seen El on campus and he communicates with us through the computers, sometimes. And perhaps other ways..." she trails off, thinking of the mysterious bags of candy from the Valentine's Day dance.

Her voice grows louder alongside her confidence. She rarely trusts her own knowledge but she knows ghosts. "He's still here but he isn't behaving like a spirit. At least, not by our classifications."

Turning her shoulders, Viola squeezes past the magimagicicada though she gets the distinct impression that space operates a little differently around him. "The man who makes the weeds is still don't here, too," she reminds the group. That's what Lionel Qualls had told her. Well, technically, he told Aris but Viola considers them to be sort of one and the same. The light that casts her shadow.

"And we're here to face him." In case anyone had just thought this was a casual exploration.