Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

      Silverware scraped loudly against ceramic in the uneasy silence at the dinner table. Dipper’s Great Uncle sat opposite of him across the large wood table, staring at the food Wendy cooked with an expression like a stormcloud. Dipper stole glances at his Uncle’s unnerving blind eye, picking idly at his food. He hated the heavy tension of a conversation-less dining table; it reminded him of nights where his father was furious, and no one dared speak a word for fear of his anger turning on them. Dipper’s grip on his fork tightened. 

      Then, Ford spoke and startled Dipper out of his brooding thoughts. “How have your nightmares been, Dipper? Any improvement, in the time you’ve been here?” 

      Hearing his name from Ford’s mouth made Dipper shift uncomfortably in his seat. 

      “Better, yes... A bit...” 

      “Has Bill made contact with you?” 

      Dipper stiffened. He felt his Uncle’s eyes on him. 

      “Um,” Dipper nudged a green bean with his fork, avoiding Ford’s gaze, “no?” 

      “You sound unsure.” Ford’s rumbling voice was hard to read. Was he suspicious? Annoyed? Concerned? “Dipper, it’s very important you don’t talk to him. Has the demon shown himself to you?” 

      Dipper stared at his plate. “No, the nightmares have been the same. I haven’t... seen anyone, anything.” 

      “Look at me,” Ford said sternly. Dipper flinched and obediently raised his head to meet his uncle’s eyes. 

      Should Dipper really be lying to the man? He was probably just worried, but... Dipper thought back to what Bill had told him that first night they actually met face to face; how Ford knew things that he wasn’t telling Dipper, how he used to be partners with Bill. 

      Dipper thought to how his interactions with the demon had been over the past weeks, with the nightmares completely subsiding, just as Bill said they would. And Bill himself... Dipper’s cheeks flushed. 

      Dipper went to visit Bill in his dreams every single night. The demon had fully swept Dipper off his feet—sometimes literally—with his tales of the universe and different dimensions, his gentlemanly mannerisms, his strange and breathtaking powers, and the unwavering attention he gave Dipper. He’d never experienced anything like it. Even his twin was sometimes prone to becoming distant-eyed when Dipper talked about his aspirations and interests. But not Bill. The handsome demon ate up every word from the boy’s mouth, and returned the thoughts with twice as much enthusiasm. Some of Bill’s off-putting or grating habits quickly became charming to him. Dipper was embarrassed to admit how much he liked Bill—far more than any respectable man should care for another man, that was for certain—but Dipper couldn’t get himself to hang onto that shame when he was around Bill. Bill wasn’t even human; perhaps it was only his shape that appeared male. Who was Dipper to apply his human standards to their relationship? He just wanted to enjoy something for once without the fear of being seen as a freak.

      Dipper’s mind wandered to how he and Bill had been walking through the gardens the other night. Bill hovered up towards a long-dead tangle of thorns and willed a bright red rose into existence, depositing it in Dipper’s hands. Then he taught Dipper how to manipulate the dream as well, guiding the boy’s hands with his gloved ones up towards the sky, where Dipper dragged the stars to earth, turning them into a thousand glowing motes drifting lazily through the air around them. Dipper laughed, clear and bright, and felt his heart skip when he caught Bill smiling proudly at him. 

      “Are you feeling well? Your face is red.” His Great Uncle’s brow furrowed. 

      Dipper coughed. “I’m fine, just warm.” Dipper mentally berated himself, before taking a steadying breath. “I guess I’m just sleeping easier knowing Mabel is far from danger. I haven’t met this demon, I promise.” The lie felt sour on Dipper’s tongue. 

      Ford frowned deeply. His shoulders almost seemed to slump, before he gathered himself up again. “That’s... good. It’s very important you heed my warnings, Dipper, you understand? You are just a boy, it is not safe for you to be meddling with this. I understand curiosity, but don’t let it blind you. You must leave it to me.” His Great Uncle fixed him with a pointed stare, his pale eye gleaming in the lamplight.

      Dipper pouted ever so slightly. Now he was chiding Dipper like a child? He wanted to fire the interrogation back at him, to ask what it was he has been so obviously crafting in his study, and why he was being so secretive about Bill and his past. But Dipper swallowed it. He nodded, and they continued to eat in silence. 

—

      Dipper wore his white button-up and newly embroidered vest to sleep that night. Wonderously, the change Bill made to it had remained even in the waking world. When Dipper asked about it, Bill told him it was a treat, and that sometimes he was able to influence reality in such a way through the bond with a strong human mind, such as Dipper’s. Dreams, made manifest.

      When Dipper's eyes opened, it was dark. He pulled the covers aside and sat up, extending a hand and willing a lit lantern into existence. He smiled as the dream obeyed him, and his surroundings became washed in a gentle orange glow. Holding the lantern aloft, Dipper left the confines of his room and wandered out into the halls of the mansion. Instead of monstrous eyes or horrifying reflection copies of himself, Dipper found the halls calm and safe in the dream. Little glowing triangles floated across the surface of the walls and floor, leading him to the stairs. Dipper happily followed, confident now that they would not fly at him with razor edges.

      Dipper padded down the winding staircase, alighting on the main floor of the estate. He had explored down here a few times in the dream now, but he frowned as the triangles led him to a familiar door. The door remained closed even in the dream, and even in the dream Dipper hadn’t dared enter his Great Uncle’s study. Dipper startled when a hand touched his shoulder from behind. Bill’s wide smile graced his sight when Dipper turned, the tall demon tilting his head.

      “You scared me,” Dipper chuckled, trying to shake off his nerves. He set the lantern down next to the wall.

      “I have a nasty habit of doing that, don’t I!” Bill cackled. His feet lifted off the floor and he pivoted to link his elbow in Dipper’s. “You seem tense.”

      Dipper’s lips pouted slightly. Bill didn’t need to ask out loud what was bothering him, the statement was prompting enough. His eyes flicked to the door for a second. 

      “My Great Uncle was pressing me about my nightmares today,” Dipper said, easily falling in step with Bill as he idly glided in a slow waltz, taking up Dipper’s hands and placing them on his shoulders, as solid and warm as any living thing would be. Bill liked to dance, Dipper had noticed. Or perhaps he simply didn’t like to stand still. “He... asked about you, too.” 

      Bill hummed thoughtfully. “That’s not a good sign.” 

      “Really?” Dipper’s stomach dropped. “Why? Do you think he knows I'm lying?” 

      His eyebrows pinched together slightly. The dancing stopped, leaving Bill to instead tap one foot on the floorboards. “I don’t think it matters either way.” 

      Dipper watched Bill as he lifted into weightlessness once more, crossing his legs midair and pondering something with a frown etched on his face. 

      “Tell me,” Dipper said. He hated being left in the dark like this, untrusted and treated like a child. Bill’s slitted eye turned on him. The demon regarded Dipper for a long moment. 

      “I suppose you're ready for the truth,” he said. “You've done exceedingly well with all of my guidance.” 

      Dipper practically glowed at the praise. But, Bill’s somber tone worried him. It was unusual, out of place with the bright and chipper persona Dipper had come to be familiar with.

      Bill waved a hand and the door to his Great Uncle’s study swung open. Dipper took a step back. “I-I can’t.”

      Bill smirked. “Of course you can. You can do anything here.” Bill motioned to the dream around them, sending little wisps of blue fire from his hand. “Follow me.” He refracted into a roiling kaleidoscope of golden triangles and flew through the open doorway. Dipper picked up the lantern and followed him inside. 

      It looked exactly as it had the day Dipper first arrived, though dark and lit only by the glow of Dipper’s lamp. It’s creepy in here, Dipper thought to himself, glancing around the packed bookshelves and the looming desk before him. Bill reformed behind it.

      “Maybe this will help,” Bill responded to his thought, and snapped his fingers. The beautiful glass panes behind him that stretched to the ceiling suddenly lit up with bright pale light, as if Bill materialized a full moon and placed it right on the other side of the window. Dipper smiled. 

      “A bit.” He set the lantern down on the corner of his Great Uncle’s desk, careful to avoid it being too close to unattended stacks of paper. Dipper approached Bill where he stood in a halo of light. Bill smiled to him as he came close, sending Dipper’s heart racing. “What did you need to tell me?” 

      Bill tapped his chin. “Gee, I must have been too distracted by how handsome you look and forgot what I was going to say!” Dipper rolled his eyes but smiled, flushing pink. Bill laughed. “I think it’s time you knew about how dangerous the old man is.” 

      The levity in the air vanished at the mention of Ford. Dipper’s face fell. “Dangerous?”

      “I don’t suppose he mentioned that twins run in the family,” Bill said. Seeing the expression of shock and confusion on Dipper’s face, Bill continued. “Yes, ol’ Fordsy had a twin brother! A big oaf that fellow was, but I respected his talents for trickery.” 

      Dipper’s mind was reeling. Why wouldn’t Ford have told him this? Dipper had brought up Mabel multiple times, surely he could have mentioned that he had a twin as well! His parents never mentioned this supposed twin brother, either. Did he live in another state? Were they estranged? Was he alive?

      Bill laughed, breaking him out of his thoughts. “Slow down with the questions, kid! I’m getting there.” 

      Dipper blushed. “S-sorry. It’s just surprising.” 

      Bill brought a hand to Dipper’s forehead, brushing the bangs aside to look at the constellation on his skin. He smiled. Dipper’s breath caught in his throat. 

      “It makes sense that he didn’t say anything,” Bill said. Dipper didn’t dare breathe, not wanting to break the spell of being held under the demon’s soft gaze like this. “He doesn’t talk about Stanley anymore. Not after he killed him.” 

      Dipper stumbled back a step, stricken by the words. “He... what?” Murder? His own twin brother? It didn’t make sense—surely Ford would have been hanged for something like that!

      Bill shook his head. “He was well respected in society, and Stan was considered a bum and a drunk. The whole ordeal was forgotten within a few days.” 

      Dipper’s mouth felt dry. “But... why?”

      “He blames me for it.” Bill folded his hands behind his back and gazed at the stained glass. “It’s part of why he hates me. Remember when I told you he became incredibly paranoid, and rejected my help in holding back the nightmares?” Dipper nodded. “And you remember what you did to your sister, the night before you were sent here?”

      Dipper took a shuddering breath. “Yes...” he whispered. He understood what Bill was implying. 

      Bill faced him, leaning down to Dipper’s eye level. The demon’s shadow swallowed the light. He pressed a finger to Dipper’s cheekbone, just under his eye. “He shot him. Right through the eye. With a gun he keeps in that desk.” Bill looked sideways. Dipper followed his gaze to his Uncle’s desk. “It was a real mess, I tell you what!”

      Dipper felt sick. 

      “Have I upset you?” Bill cocked his head to the side.

      “I'm just not accustomed to... things like that.” The town Dipper grew up in was civilized and law-abiding; murders were not so common there, nor were they a heavy topic of conversation in the Pines household, and Dipper certainly had never seen a dead person. The thought of someone being shot through the eye... Dipper shuddered. 

      Bill gently took both of Dipper’s hands in his. Every discomforting image in Dipper’s mind vanished as he looked up at Bill’s face with wide, questioning eyes. 

      “I'm telling you all this because I'm...” he paused, seeming to hesitate in admitting something. “I'm worried about what he might do.” Bill’s thumb rubbed the back of Dipper’s hand, sending shivers through his skin. “I fear what he may do to you if he suspects us. I don't want to lose you.”

      The admission stole Dipper’s breath away. Us. It felt as strong as a confession of love. Bill sensed Dipper’s thoughts and leaned in, pressing his lips to Dipper’s. Dipper eagerly closed his eyes and melted into his arms, resting his hands on the front of Bill’s suit. It was the safest he'd ever felt. He never wanted to wake up, for then he would have to face the world alone.

      “You think he'll try to kill me?” Dipper breathed the question as soon as they parted slightly. 

      “I can protect you,” Bill said, putting Dipper at arm’s length so he could look him in the eye. “There's a way for me to protect you in the waking world, too.”

      “How?” 

      Bill grinned. His eye glowed. “It’s pretty simple, but requires trust.” Bill floated backwards and sat on the edge of the desk, crossing his legs. “Just like how our partnership, and your resilient mind,” Dipper smiled slightly, “are able to overcome the negative effects of my presence and the curse. This would allow us to break those limitations entirely. We would be bound together, and I would be with you always, not just in the dream.” 

      Dipper’s breath caught, his heart raced with excitement. “Always? Even...”

      “Even while you’re awake, yes!” Bill’s smile was bright. “I’d be with you, and we would be able to use my powers. I could protect you.” 

      Dipper swayed unsteadily on his feet. It was a dream come true. But, of course it was. That’s what Bill did: he made dreams a reality, he shaped them into whatever he wanted, he was so powerful—and yet, he still wanted to share it with a little mortal like Dipper. If he did this, he’d never be alone again, he’d never suffer from the nightmares again, and he’d never risk hurting Mabel again. He could go home, and he’d have Bill with him. He wondered if he and Mabel would get along—they probably would, they were the two most energetically eccentric people he knew! Dipper found himself smiling ear to ear. Bill returned the glowing expression.

      “What do I need to do?”

      Bill removed his glove for the first time and extended his hand towards Dipper. His shadow stretched behind him and climbed the wall, coming to a triangular point. Blue flames erupted from Bill’s palm and trailed up his arm.

      “You just have to let me in,” Bill replied. “Shake on it! Agree to be my human, and my power will be yours.” 

      Dipper’s heart fluttered in his chest. He didn’t notice the door to the room move slightly. “And you’ll be with me when I wake up? Always?” 

      Bill nodded, still smiling and holding his hand out patiently. “I’ll be there, kid. That’s a promise!” Dipper lifted his hand, trembling slightly with nerves. He took a deep breath.

      “I trust you,” Dipper said, and grasped Bill’s hand. For a terrifying moment, Dipper was afraid of being burned by Bill’s fire, but it licked harmlessly up his arm, linking him and Bill together. It was almost a pleasant sensation, warm and comforting. Then it rapidly spread, engulfing Dipper’s vision. Panic lit up in his chest. He gasped and stumbled backwards, but Bill’s grip held tight. Dipper thought he heard laughter, but then it morphed into words.

      “Dipper! MASON! WAKE UP!” 

      Dipper’s eyes snapped back open, but instead of Bill, his Great Uncle Ford was standing in front of him, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him roughly. His uncle’s hair was messy and his glasses skewed, like he may have just woken up in a rush. His expression was wild and frantic as he searched Dipper’s face. Dipper’s mind caught back up with him and he lurched backwards, away from Ford. His back hit Ford’s desk—when did he get turned around? He looked up at the tall stained glass window and noticed, for the first time, that in the center it formed a huge triangle made up of different shades of yellow and orange. 

      Without thinking, Dipper yanked open the nearest drawer and shoved his hand inside, searching. 

      Ford looked confused. “Dipper, what are you—?” He took a step back, holding his hands up as Dipper pulled a revolver from the drawer and aimed it at him.

      “Don’t come closer!” Dipper’s hands trembled. He hadn’t the slightest clue how to use the thing, but Ford’s expression calmed and became serious. 

      “Dipper, put that down,” he said, voice steady. 

      Dipper ignored him, frantically looking around the room. Was I sleepwalking? He had to have been. He remembered very clearly going to bed upstairs. The lantern he’d summoned in the dream still sat on the edge of Ford’s desk, glowing softly with firelight. 

      There were other things on Ford’s desk that hadn’t been there in the dream. For a moment, Dipper thought it was the strange necklace Ford always wore, but he could see it dangling from the man’s neck. The pendant and cord splayed on the desk look exactly the same, but without the intricate engraving of a symbol on the closed eye. Judging by the various tools scattered around it, Ford must have been in the process of making a new necklace just like his.

      “Mason,” Ford urged again, trying to get the boy’s attention back on him. 

      “Don’t call me that!” Dipper snapped. He hated how he sounded like a scared little boy. 

      “I'm sorry. Dipper,” Ford corrected, “please put the gun down. You don’t know what you're doing.” 

      Anger flared up in Dipper, but before he could respond, another voice spoke from his left.

      “No, no! Please, keep going! This is the most entertainment I’ve had in decades~”

      Dipper and Ford both shifted their attention to the figure sitting on the desk, exactly where Bill had been in the dream moments prior. His whole form glowed softly, but he no longer looked human. Dipper’s mouth fell open, trying to comprehend what he was looking at. Bill’s voice was coming from this... thing—a large yellow triangle with thin black arms and legs, a top hat and bowtie, and one large eye. 

      Ford’s eyes flashed with recognition. “Cipher!” he snarled. 

      “Yes, good to see you, too, old pal!”

      “Dipper, get away from him, now!” 

      “What...?” Dipper gaped.

      “Oh, oopsie! Sorry, kid. Is this better?” Bill snapped his fingers and his shape coalesced back into that of a handsome human man. 

      Ford sneered at the new guise. “What is this form supposed to be, Cipher?”

      “I had to wear something a little more appealing for your cute little nephew! Not everyone is freaky like you are, Sixer~” Bill leaned sideways and rested an elbow on Dipper’s shoulder. He laid his head close to Dipper’s, smiling suggestively. Shame and embarrassment crawled through Dipper’s guts as his Great Uncle’s eyes darted between the two of them, connecting the dots. Dipper felt his breath start to quicken in an oncoming panic attack. 

      “Get away from him, now!” The venomous roar of his uncle’s voice was terrifying, but Bill just regarded him smugly. 

      “Get a load of this guy!” Bill laughed in Dipper’s ear. “Always acting like I’m some kinda villain.”

      “You ruined my life,” Ford’s voice shook slightly. “You ruined my eye. You killed my...” Ford’s lips quavered.

      “No need to keep it a secret, I already told the little Pine tree aaaall about Stanley.” Ford flinched. “And I’ve never had any trouble with just having one eye, don't be so dramatic!” Bill pulled at his human eyelid, grinning. "I know you missed me~" Dipper stood frozen still from shock, listening to them bicker back and forth. 

      “Dipper, I don’t know what this monster told you, but you have to listen to me—you can’t trust him!” Stanford pleaded.

      “Yeah!” Bill barked a laugh. “Listen to the guy who used to worship me! He would practically swoon at my feet whenever I said anything at all!” Bill cackled, kicking his feet. “A real freak, this guy!”

      Ford’s face turned an angry red. 

      “You have no power here, demon! Leave this place!” Stanford gripped the pendant around his neck in one hand, taking a step forward. 

      “Oh, on the contrary, Sixer~” Bill languidly sidled up behind Dipper, and wrapped his arms around the boy's shoulders. “I have all the power now.”

      Bill's hand snaked up Dipper’s arm and curled around the hand holding the gun. Ford’s eyes widened.

      BANG!

      Dipper gasped as Bill made him squeeze the trigger. Ford doubled over, falling to one knee with a pained shout. Bill’s presence against Dipper’s back vanished, but the demon’s cackling still hung in the air around them. Dipper dropped the gun onto the carpet. 

      Ford struggled to stand back up, clutching his side. A dark spot of red bloomed from under his hand, spreading through the fabric of his shirt. Dipper choked down a sob.

      “It’s okay, Dipper,” Ford tried to say gently, like coaxing a scared animal, but his voice trembled with pain. “Just come here, please.” He extended a hand towards Dipper.

      The yellow triangle in the window reflected in Dipper’s eyes, and it flashed with light. Dipper’s head knocked backwards like he’d been punched. The boy stumbled and caught himself against the desk. When he raised his head, Dipper’s eyes were yellow and slitted. An unnerving grin stretched across the boy’s face.

      “It’s too late, Sixer!” Bill, from inside Dipper’s body, grabbed the lit lantern beside him and raised it over his head. “I win!” 

      “No!” Ford cried.

      Bill pivoted and smashed the lantern right onto the desk, where the flames immediately spread through the stacks of papers and charred the wood. Bill’s and Dipper’s voices mingled together, merging in a manic fit of laughter. The flames spilled onto the floor and quickly started to lick up the bookshelves. 

      Dipper blinked his eyes open. 

      He looked down below at his own body, which was standing far too close to the flames, clutching his stomach and laughing at where Ford struggled to stay on his feet. 

      He felt... light. He looked down at himself and found he was floating above the room, body slightly translucent. Then the memory of being shunted from his form the moment Bill possessed him came back. Dread filled his heart, making it heavy like a stone. He drifted downwards next to his body—next to Bill. 

      “This isn’t what I wanted!” Dipper cried out. “This isn’t what you said would happen! We’re supposed to be partners, isn’t that what you said?” Did he ever mean anything he said? Had Dipper been completely played for a fool?  

      His body’s head turned slowly towards him, wearing a wider smile than should be possible on any human face. Bill’s yellow eyes stared right at him.

      "I lied!" The demon's voice dripped with pure, insane delight. 

      Those two simple words sent ice through Dipper’s veins. Bill laughed, and laughed and laughed, even as Ford lunged forward and grappled him. 

      “Dipper, listen to me!” Ford called out, but he was clearly yelling it to the air, as if he knew Dipper was around but not in his body. Dipper’s eyes welled up with tears. “As soon as you're back in your body, you have to run, no matter what! Please, listen to me this once. Don’t come back for anything!” 

      “The kid is already gone, Stanford!” Bill taunted from within Ford’s grip. He clawed at the arm wrapped around his neck. “And you won’t last long, either! You’ll have to kill me, Sixer! Kill your nephew like you killed your brother!” 

      Ford just grunted and used his free hand to wrench his necklace over his head. Bill’s expression visibly slackened with shock for a second, before his eyes lit up with, impossibly, even more glee than before. Bill whooped as the pendant was placed around Dipper’s neck and the triangular being was jettisoned from Dipper’s body. Dipper felt the pull immediately, and followed it like a current, slipping back into his own flesh. 

      The first thing Dipper felt was smoke burning his lungs, and searing heat on his face. He instinctively stumbled away from the roaring flames and tripped over the gun on the floor, falling backwards. He coughed and held a sleeve over his mouth. His eyes burned. 

      “Ggrhk—!” 

      Dipper turned to see his Great Uncle doubled over, clutching his head in his hands. His face twisted up in agony. Dipper stood up and took a step towards him.

      “No!” Ford snapped through gritted teeth. “You have to run! That amulet,” Dipper touched Ford’s pendant where it lay against his chest, “it blocks Bill from entering your mind. You have to run.” Ford raised his head to look at Dipper, pleading. Blood poured out of his blinded eye and dripped between his fingers. “I don’t have long. GO! NOW!” Ford roared.

      Dipper fled. He scooped the revolver off of the ground as he went, ignoring how painfully hot the metal was. He raced for the doors, soot and tears streaking his face. He heard Ford scream behind him, and the deafening sound of glass shattering, but didn’t turn to look. Almost there, Dipper reached for the open doorway, where clouds of smoke were billowing out. 

      BAM! The door slammed in his face and Dipper collided painfully with it. He tugged at the handle, but it seemed to be locked. 

      “Where do you think you're going, Pinetree?” A creepy, lilting voice cooed from across the room. Dipper turned. 

      The tall window was shattered, and his Great Uncle walked out of a thick cloud of smoke, grinning wickedly. Both eyes were yellow and slitted, but his uncle’s blind eye still dripped with red. Dipper continued to frantically try the door’s handle.

      “Woo! It feels good to be back in this body! But now who’s going back on their word?” Bill called, walking at a slow leisurely pace. He licked a bit of blood off of each of Ford’s six fingers. “We’re supposed to be together always, right? Till death do us part!” He laughed, the sound crawled under Dipper’s skin. “So take off that little trinket, kid!”

      Dipper pulled out the gun and looked back towards his uncle’s possessed body. Bill grinned wide, holding his arms open with anticipation. Blood trickled to the floor from the shot in Ford’s side. Flames roiled across the walls and ceiling.

      “Fuck you,” Dipper hissed, and blasted the handle of the door. The wood splintered. Dipper threw his weight against the door and the lock snapped. 

      “No!” Bill screamed as Dipper swung the door open and sprinted away. He ran through the halls, his breaths coming fast and labored, but he made it outside. He slammed the front doors shut behind him and kept running out onto the yard. 

      Feeling the cool night air against his steaming skin, Dipper collapsed into a pile. He uncurled his aching fingers from the gun’s handle, and instead clutched his uncle’s necklace. He cried, hot tears leaking down his face and running tracks through the soot. His clothes were singed and dirty. Dipper sat up and tore the embroidered vest from his body, throwing it aside. 

      Bill betrayed me. He tricked me. 

      And I fell for it.  

      That hurt worst of all. 

      Dipper unsteadily rose to his feet and looked back up at the overgrown mansion. Smoke rose into the dark sky as it burned, quickly becoming engulfed in flames. Dipper just stood and watched it ignite. Vicious orange fire writhed in the windows, spitting embers that floated to the sky. The towering pine trees surrounding the place glowed in the red light. Bill nor his Great Uncle followed him out. He was alone.

      Dipper wiped the tears off his face. He clutched the amulet in his hand, and watched the mansion burn.