Finn slipped up beside Miriam as she talked on the phone, taking her hand in his.  The way she latched onto his hand made it clear something was very wrong.

“I understand,” said Miriam with a too-even voice.  “I’ll be there shortly.”  She ended the call, then buried her face in Finn’s shoulder.

“What is it?” asked Finn.

Miriam shook her head.  “I need a huge favour.  Can you drive me to the hospital?”

“But you’re the one with the car,” protested Finn.

“Please?”  Miriam’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Anything for you, love.  You know that.”

Miriam wouldn’t let go of him, which made getting their shoes on awkward.  They walked hand in hand to her house and she wouldn’t even let go to get into the car.  She clambered across the driver’s seat instead.

By the time they’d made it to the hospital, Miriam’s grip on Finn’s hand had grown painful, but he said nothing about it, or about the difficulty it caused extracting themselves from the car.  As they walked toward the entrance he asked, softly, “What’s going on?”

Miriam whispered back, “They called in CMS.  That means...”  She choked back a sob, and couldn’t answer further.

Finn accompanied her up the elevator to her mother’s room.  He grew even more puzzled when he saw her, she looked thin and frail, but not sickly.  The electrodes and various tubes hooked up to her told a different tale.

A man in a professional-looking robe was waiting for them.  Stitched over his chest was an emblem with what looked like a caduceus crossed with a longbow.

“Ah, Miss Holloway, I am sorry it has come to this.  I have the papers ready here.”

“What papers?” asked Finn.  “What is going on?”

The man looked to Miriam. “Do you consent to me informing your friend about the details?”

Miriam nodded rapidly, blinking away tears.

The man introduced himself as Mr. Morgan, a representative for Chiron Magical Services, a company that specialized in medical applications of magic.  He briefly explained that they had been brought in to help with Mrs. Holloway’s illness when conventional medicine failed her, but had fared no better.  Magic was very effective at dealing with physical trauma such as lost limbs, but Miriam’s mother was suffering from a neurodegenerative disorder that had proven intractable even to their methods.

“So why are you here now?” asked Finn.

“Mrs. Holloway is dying,” said Mr. Morgan bluntly, drawing fresh tears from Miriam.  “She has at best hours left.  We were contracted to be here at the end, to give her one last chance.  Medical petrification.”

“What?”

Mr. Morgan sighed.  “I have a tool that can turn her into stone, permanently.  It is possible, though difficult, to reverse the effect.  Mr. Holloway’s hope is that someday, magic or medicine will advance enough to save his wife.”

Finn’s eyes narrowed.  “You don’t think this is a good idea.”

“I’ve done this more times than I can count.  It’s quite useful if someone is waiting for a transplant, or for a relative to bank up enough blood.  But there’s no guarantee they’ll ever even know what Mrs. Holloway was suffering from, so...”  He sighed.  “It’s a faint hope, but better than none.  But there are downsides.”

Finn felt Miriam’s trembling where she was clutched to his side, and brushed his free hand down her back.  “Sorry love, I can stop asking questions if it’s making things worse.”

Miriam shook her head and gestured for him to go on.

“Okay.  Downsides?”

The CMS representative set down a sheaf of papers on the table.  “Because there is a significant risk of permanent petrification, Mrs. Holloway will be considered legally dead. The hospital won’t let us do this without a formal do-not-resuscitate order.  So Miss Holloway has to sign off on both.”

Finn glared at the man, and hugged Miriam tighter.  “She’s a wreck, and you want her to sign away her mother’s life?  Why Miriam?”

“She holds the medical power of attorney for her mother.  Her father could sign, but he cannot be here in time.”

“Bastard.”

Miriam nodded against his chest, and Finn sighed.  “Can you do this?”

Miriam shook her head violently, her quiet tears turning into heaving sobs.  Finn held her, stroking her back softly until she calmed down.  “What if she doesn’t sign?”

“Mrs. Holloway’s degeneration is accelerating.  Before dawn, her heart will stop beating.”

“Miriam, sweetie.  You need to decide, here and now,” urged Finn gently.  “I wish there was some other way, but...”

“I know,” said Miriam weakly.  “Hold me.”

With Finn’s arms around her, Miriam sat and signed paper after paper.  Finn counted, there were a dozen forms in all that needed her signature.  Releases, waivers, death certificates, medical orders.   Mr. Morgan did his best to explain each one, but it was bewildering.

When it was done, Miriam collapsed against Finn, burying her head against his chest.  He petted the back of her head, but her shaking just wouldn’t stop.

“Are we done here?” asked Finn.

“All but the procedure itself.  It won’t take long.”

A nurse was summoned to the room, to check the forms then formally release Mrs. Holloway to Chiron Magical Services.  Electrodes were removed, tubes withdrawn, and then Mr. Morgan brought out a slim green wand with a snake’s head.  He held it to Mrs. Holloway’s forehead for several seconds, then the woman began to shrink.

Miriam squeaked in surprise and dismay.  “What’s happening?”

Mr. Morgan explained that marble is almost three times as dense as human flesh, and thus she had to shrink by a corresponding amount for mass equivalence.  Before he’d finished explaining the transformation was done, and a three and a half foot tall marble statue was lying where Mrs. Holloway had been.  Mr. Morgan offered to shrink her further, for ease of transport, but Miriam’s weeping kept her from accepting.

Finn shook Mr. Morgan’s hand gravely, and thanked him for his help in a difficult time.  Once he was gone, Finn asked the nurse for help in transporting the statue back to Miriam’s car.  An orderly showed up with a wheelchair, and strapped the statue in securely before accompanying Finn and Miriam out of the hospital.  The entire time, Miriam never let go of Finn.

Once the statue was safely stowed, Finn tried to disentangle himself to get Miriam into the car, but she wouldn’t let go of his hand.  This time, Finn entered from the passenger side, and slid over to the driver’s seat while still holding Miriam’s hand.

Miriam wept the entire way home.

When Finn parked in her garage, he tried to let go of Miriam’s hand.  “I’ll need both arms free to move your mother.”

“Her statue,” whispered Miriam.  “I...  I guess.”  She stayed glued to his side instead, as he hefted the statue out of the back seat and set it on the garage floor.

“Where should I put her?” asked Finn after a short silence.

Miriam tore her gaze from the statue, and glanced toward the door into the house.  Finn dutifully scooped up the statue.  Miriam wordlessly guided him to her mother’s bedroom, never leaving contact with Finn.  

He set the statue on the bed, and Miriam set about tucking the statue in and making it comfortable.  Once that was done, she arranged little things on the bed.  A bottle of perfume, a book, a knitted shawl, various other knick knacks.  It was only when she added a picture of her mother to the assemblage that Finn realized she was creating a shrine of sorts.

He watched in silence as she prayed at the foot of the bed, bowing his head respectfully.  When she was done, they tiptoed out of the room and Miriam closed the door behind them.

Finn followed Miriam to the living room, where she flopped gracelessly onto the couch.  He sat carefully beside her, and took her hand once more.  She startled when he did so, then flashed him a wan smile.

“Are you okay?” asked Finn gently.

Miriam shook her head.  “Everything I built my life around is gone.”

“Not everything.  Your father...”

“Is God knows where.  I haven’t seen him in months.”

“I’m still here.”

“I know,” said Miriam, looking away.

“Don't you want me here?” asked Finn, stung by her dismissive tone.

“I do!” exclaimed Miriam.  “But I also want to scream and cry and break things.”  She clenched her fists and beat them on her legs.

“And you can't with me around?”

“Yes!”

“How about we break stuff together?”

Miriam's confused look vanished with the rest of her.  She found herself on the edge of the magic ring's town.  A table appeared in front of her, followed by stack after stack of fine china plates.  She picked one up, uncertainly.

“You can break them,” said Finn, making her whirl around to face him.

“Won't your mother mind?” asked Miriam, hands clenched on the plate as she held it up as a shield between her and Finn.

Finn chuckled. “No.  These were a stack of paper plates a minute ago.  I transformed them to match some of the fine china in storage.  Should still smash nicely, and no guilt.”

He picked up a plate and rapped it sharply against the edge of the table.  It didn't break.  “Huh.  Tougher than I thought.”  He whacked it again, harder.  The plate didn’t break but his failure drew a brief if gratifying giggle from Miriam.

Finn growled in mock anger and smashed the plate against the corner of the table with all his might.  It splintered into a spray of shards.  “Finally!  Uh, maybe I made them too strong?  I could turn them into a more fragile kind of plate.”

“Get me a hammer,” demanded Miriam.  One appeared in her hand, and she gleefully smashed the plate she’d been holding, then started in on others.  They made a delightful crash when broken.

The hammer was soon replaced by a baseball bat, though Finn's attempts to pitch plates to Miriam went poorly.  The plates tumbled erratically and were hard to hit.  Tossing them like frisbees made the target smaller.

Next up was a fire axe that could shatter a bunch with each blow, but took great gouges out of the table and then got stuck.  The shotgun that followed made Miriam squeak when she first fired it, but she soon got the hang of blasting plates out of the air.

Finn grabbed another stack of plates to toss, then yelped as one was shot out of his hand.  “Watch it!  That's not safe!”

“Everything in here is safe,” replied Miriam.

“I'd still rather not get shot.  Hey, don't point that at me!”

A moment later Finn found himself outside the ring, unharmed.  The impact from the shotgun hadn't hurt, not exactly, but the memory of the blast and his chest being shredded left his nerves ringing with shock and adrenaline.

“God damn it Miriam, what the hell was that for?”

Finn returned to the ring, and found Miriam lying in a pool of her own blood.  Her face was shattered, unrecognizable.  He turned away, erasing the mess behind him with a thought.  Finn sat for some time, focussing very carefully on Miriam as he wanted her to be, then let the ring bring her forth.  

Miriam sat on the ground, crying softly.  Finn sat beside her, and pulled her into a hug.  “Talk to me.”

Miriam shook her head.  Finn waited and eventually she started to speak.  About anger, and pain, and hating the world and everyone in it.  Finn didn’t interrupt to ask for an exception on his part.

Miriam had started at a whisper, but before long she was screaming and crying, flailing at Finn as if he was the author of everything wrong in her world.  Eventually she wound down.

“Turn me to stone.”

“What?” asked Finn, incredulously.

“I don’t want to feel, to think, to... anything.”

Finn held his tongue.  He tried to ignore Miriam’s pleadings, but failed.  Miriam crackled and stilled as her body turned to stone.  He brushed her hard cheek gently.  “I don’t think this is a good idea.  You can’t run away forever.”

Despite his misgivings, Finn let Miriam stay as she was.  He spent a little time cleaning up the plate-smashing station, putting everything back where it had been.  Not wanting to leave Miriam, he summoned a book from the library and started reading Shakespeare’s sonnets from the beginning.

Something about the sonnets called to him, and he traced over a line with his fingertips.  They’d only briefly touched on them in class, reading a few of the more famous ones without much attempt to interpret them.  But here, in the early sonnets, it was clear that they were not addressed to a woman, as Finn had assumed.  They were extolling the beauty of a man.  Finn bit his lip, worrying at it for a time before making up his mind.

Finn left the ring, then returned in his female form.  She studied the statue of Miriam, mentally resculpting it to male, but not the overmuscled form she’d given Miriam the last time.  Finn lifted the statue from it’s huddled pose to standing, proud as a Greek hero set in marble.  An athlete, yes, but not a bodybuilder.  Finn tweaked here, adjusted there.  Made the statue exactly as tall as herself, and smiled at it.  “Perfect.”

She closed with it, and kissed it on the lips.  Miriam became flesh and blood in her arms, returning the kiss.

Then Miriam pushed away from Finn.  “No!  I want to be stone, not...”

“Please, love.  Stay.”

Miriam shook his head, and vanished.  Finn sighed, and followed out of the ring.  He found Miriam huddled on the couch, crying softly.  “Why did you change me back?”

“Because I love you too much to leave you as a statue.”

Miriam stared at Finn in horror.  “I should have let my mother die?”

Finn backed away.  “No, that’s not what I meant!”

The argument that followed was bitter and loud.  Nothing Finn said could convince Miriam that she had done the right thing, and pointing out that it was too late to change her mind got him shoved out of the house and the door slammed behind him.

Finn moped his way home, and was confronted by both his parents.  

“No Miriam?” asked his mother.

Finn shook his head.  “We fought, I said some stupid things, she kicked me out.”

Finn’s parents tag-teamed him with questions, and soon got the story out of him.  About the trip to the hospital, the fate of Miriam’s mother, and her subsequent breakdown.  As the story progressed, both looked more and more worried.

“You left a suicidal girl at home, alone?” asked Finn’s father.

“She told me to leave!” protested Finn.  “What was I supposed to do?”

“Apologize, for one.  You said something stupid, don’t defend it, apologize,” said Mr. Engstrom.

“I... fine.  I don’t think she wants to talk to me, though.  Maybe I should text...”  Finn winced at the look he was getting from both of his parents, but still brought out his phone.  He tried calling Miriam instead, but got no answer.

“I told you she doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“You should go talk to her in person, then.”

“I’d look like a stalker!  Everything we’ve been taught says that trying to force contact isn’t cool.”

Finn ignored his parents’ glares as he started composing a brief, apologetic text.  Before he was half-done, his phone chimed.  “Oh, she texted me.”  Finn frowned at the message.  “Man, she never typos this much.”

“What did she say?”

Finn squinted at it.  “‘Sorry...  Hurts too much.’  I think.  Sounds like an apology?  Maybe?”

Finn’s mother’s face went pale.  “Sounds like a suicide note.”

“By text?  That’s...”

“Go,” barked Finn’s father, in a tone Finn hadn’t heard in several years.  “Go now.”

The last time Finn had heard his father’s voice so hard, he’d been seconds away from doing something terminally stupid, and that voice had kept him out of the hospital – or worse.

He ran.  The blocks flew by, returning him to Miriam’s house much more swiftly than when he’d left.  Finn pounded on the door, and rang the bell, but got no answer.  He tried calling Miriam.  Still no answer.

Finn’s father showed up then, out of breath and still wearing his slippers.  “No answer?”

Finn shook his head.  “Door’s locked, I don’t have a key.  Mrs. Lund would have one, but I don’t think she’ll be awake this late.”

“Where does she live?”

Finn didn’t know.  His father suggested they could break a window, but Finn pointed out that they were all barred.  Miriam’s mother had, while still lucid, been quite concerned about safety with her father always on the road.

Finn cast around for other ideas, and his eyes lit on the mail-slot in their front door.  “I have an idea, but you’re not going to like it.”

“Do it.”

Finn popped his father into the magic ring, opened the slot, and stuck his hand through.  His father reappeared inside the house.  A moment later, the door was open.  “Clever,” said Finn’s father approvingly.

Finn called out to Miriam several times as they searched the house, growing more and more concerned when she didn’t answer.  He found her in her bedroom, sprawled over her bed, several empty pill-bottles and her phone near her hand.  “Miriam!  Wake up!”

There was no response.  Finn’s father checked her breathing and pulse.  “Alive, but not doing well.  We need to get her to a hospital to get her stomach pumped.”

Miriam vanished.  A few moments later, the contents of her stomach splatted to the bed.  There were an awful lot of half-dissolved pills in the mess.  “That works too.  We still need to get her to the hospital.”

Finn dug through Miriam’s purse for her car keys, then popped the purse into the ring.  “Let’s go.”

“We should bring this stuff along to be analyzed.”

A bowl appeared in Finn’s hands, and he scooped up the bulk of it.  “Done.  Come on.”

Finn drove Miriam’s car to the hospital, and summoned her out of the ring once they arrived.  The two of them carried her into the emergency room, where triage was mercifully quick.  Miriam had been a frequent enough visitor while her mother was ill that the nurses knew her by name, and they were were sympathetic to her recent loss.

Miriam was soon hustled off to an examination room, leaving Finn behind in the waiting room.  A nurse came out to talk to Finn after a bit, confused that Miriam’s stomach was entirely empty.  “What did you do to her to get everything out?”

Finn sketched out the steps he’d taken using the magic ring, getting an odd look from the nurse.  She accepted the bowl full of residue for analysis and comparison with the pill-bottles they’d brought along.

That was the last Finn heard for over an hour.  He tried to get information on Miriam’s status, but the nurses weren’t allowed to say much, only that she was still “under observation”.

Eventually, Finn was told that Miriam was awake, and asking for him.  He hopped out of the chair he’d been dozing in and followed the nurse to an exam room in the back.  “Will she be okay?”

“Yes.  But only because you got to her in time.  She’d taken well over a lethal dose.  We’d really like to get a psych clearance before we release her.”

Finn stopped listening, because the sight of Miriam looking wan and worn brought a prickle of tears to his eyes.  “Oh, Miriam.  I was so scared.  Are you okay?”

Miriam looked down at her hands, and picked at the tape holding the IV in place.  “I’m sorry.”

Finn moved to the chair beside the bed, and took her hand.  “Don’t you ever do that to me again.”  Then he ducked his head and added, “Please?”

Miriam whispered, “I’m not strong enough alone.”

“You aren’t alone,” said Finn, putting as much conviction into the statement as he could muster.

“Everyone leaves me,” moaned Miriam.  

“I won’t.”

Miriam put a finger under Finn’s chin, raising his gaze from the hand he was holding and the tubes and wires there.  “I promise to never do this again, if you promise me you’ll never leave.”

Finn smiled at her.  “Easiest promise I’ll ever make.  I will never leave you.”

Miriam clutched his hand tightly.  “Are you sure?  Really really sure?  Because I can’t do this again.”

“Absolutely certain,” replied Finn with complete conviction.

Miriam collapsed against him, sobbing.  “Thank you thank you thank you.”

A nurse intruded on them while Miriam was wiping her eyes.  “Time for another check on your vitals.”

Miriam held on to Finn’s hand through the check on her blood pressure, and all the rest.  The nurse smiled at them when she was done.  “Looks like you’re doing much better.  Is this young man the cause?”

Miriam nodded emphatically.  “He’ll take care of me.”

The nurse nodded.  “Looks like it.  We’ve got another half hour to wait on the last of the blood draws.  If that comes back within limits, and the shrink clears you to go, we’ll get you out of here.”

“Can Finn stay here while all that happens?” asked Miriam, suddenly worried.

“Yes, of course.  We’re way past visiting hours, but it’s obvious you need him.”

Miram relaxed at that, and slumped back into the bed.  Before long, she was asleep.  Finn held her hand for the next hour, and all through her chat with the on-duty psychologist.  It was good to see her smile.

Eventually they were alone in the not-very-private exam area, with permission to leave and a pile of Miriam’s clothes in a bag.  Miriam started to shrug out of the hospital gown, but the sleeve snagged where she was still holding Finn’s hand.  “Be a dear and take care of that, would you?”

Finn stared at her uncomprehendingly until she nodded toward the ring.  “Oh!  Right.”  Miriam vanished, leaving the unflattering gown to flutter to the floor, and his now-empty hand feeling oddly cold.

Finn popped her clothes into the ring next.  He waited for long enough for her to dress, then peeped into the ring to see her still standing there, naked.  Miriam’s grin widened as she felt his regard.  “Come on, magic me into my clothes.”

Finn sighed softly as Miriam turned into a blouse and skirt, then fluttered to the ground.  “Sorry.  It’s late, I’m tired, and we really need to get going.”  He summoned up what dregs of will he had left, and put things to rights.  Miriam was human again, and wearing her clothes.  He didn’t question why they fit poorly, and when Finn popped her back out of the ring everything seemed right once more.

Miriam chuckled softly.  “Oh, that was good.  C’mon, let’s get out of here.”  She grabbed Finn by the hand and dragged him toward the exit.

Finn puzzled at Miriam’s sudden take-charge attitude, but was too exhausted to figure it out.  He didn’t recall much of the drive home, except for the feeling of Miriam’s hand on his as he shifted gears.

They found Finn’s father sleeping in a chair by the door, and roused him so that he could go sleep in bed instead.  He gave Miriam an appraising look first.  “Better?”

“I’ll live.  As long as Finn keeps his promise.”

That got a sharper look, and a promise of explanations later.  Finn’s father headed up to bed, and Finn went with Miriam to the guest room where she’d been sleeping.  “Are you going to be okay?”

Miriam clutched his hand more tightly.  “As long as you’re with me.”

“Uh... here?  In this room?  While we sleep?”

“You promised!”

Finn blinked muzzily.  “I did.  Can we clarify the details of my promise?  Am I promised to never leave your side, or is this more a relationship thing?  Because... I’m gonna need to hit the bathroom before sleeping.”

“Can it be both?” asked Miriam meekly.  “I know Daddy loves me, but he’s never here and it hurts.”

Finn nodded.  “It can be both as long as you need it.  If you can figure out the bathroom thing, anyway.”

“Oh, that’s easy.  Use the ring.  Nestled on your finger counts as close.”

Finn blinked again, and Miriam was gone.  Not just into the ring, but turned into nothingness inside it.  He shook his head, stumbled to the bathroom, and then on to his own room where he crashed into bed like a felled tree.