Chapter 648: Gram
They wanted to talk, but I was done. I left them to hash out their own guilt and frustration while I finally let myself think of home.
And Gram.
Mom descended to my side, took my hand as I sliced open the veil and headed for Wilding Springs. Pressed my crystal into my palm as she did, returning it to me. The tiny soul inside rejoiced at our reunion, but I couldn't muster enthusiasm. Not when I didn't know what waited for me on the other end of the trip.
The kitchen felt surreal, like somewhere I remembered from a long time ago, but hadn't thought of in ages. Shenka dropped the carton of milk she held, the refrigerator door gaping open as she cried out and rushed to me, hugging me tight while a white pool of liquid spread beneath us.
"Syd," she whispered. "We were so worried."
I hugged her back, felt the touch of Mom's magic as she cleaned up the mess, looked up to see her put the milk back in the fridge. Shivered. She was herself, the woman I remembered when I was little. Young and fresh and so alive I could barely stand it. Seeing her like that, in our kitchen, made me feel sixteen again.
But I wasn't. And the world had changed so much since then.
I followed Shenka through the house, Mom behind me, holding my hand, to Gram's bedroom door. Two young witches were just emerging, whispering to themselves, but when Lula and Phon spotted me, they smiled.
And their smiles broke the dam I'd been holding my tears behind.
Lula hugged me kindly, Phon gently rubbing my back as I choked and tried to keep from collapsing into a puddle of soggy patheticness.
"She's resting," Lula said, hazel eyes kind, splash of freckles across her nose making her look younger than she was. "But I know she'll love to see you."
I wanted to ask a million questions, but they could wait. Gram was more important now.
The door creaked a little as I pushed against it, scrubbing the tears from my cheeks with the shoulder of my thin robe. Someone had pulled the curtains, casting the room in shadow and it took me a minute to adjust. A thin, frail shape lay under the sheets of my grandmother's bed, wispy white hair laid out on her pillow, tiny chest rising and falling in slow measure. Amber eyes shone as Sassafras lifted his head and looked up, his ears perked so far forward his whiskers quivered.
I hurried to the bed, trying to be quiet, feeling more sobs rising in my chest and fighting to keep them back so I wouldn't disturb Gram. She looked so different. Where Mom regained her youthfulness, her vigor, Gram looked like a shell of herself. Even when she'd been lost in madness, there was a robust feeling to my grandmother, like some giant lived in her wrinkled skin, just waiting to burst out.
Not now. Even her breath came in weak puffs through dry lips, her power lulled and transparent, as thin as her pale, pale skin.
I sank to the chair beside her bed, thinking of all the times I'd had to appease her with chocolate and tequila to keep her from blowing up the neighbors. How she'd always begged me to give back what I had of hers. Then, her happy cackle, the way her fuzzy socks carried her silently through her life. Stealth Gram with her pointy nails seeking out a rib, faded blue eyes sparkling in mirth, the crackle of her power, always there, always with me.
Soul sister.
Sassafras lay curled on her pillow, his cheek pressed to hers as he purred softly. I stroked his fur, kissed his paws, tears dripping onto his silver coat. I just couldn't hold them back anymore.
"I'm fine, girl." Her voice startled a meep out of me. "And so are you, it seems." Gram's eyes opened, fixed on me. A spark of hope rose in my chest as her power linked with mine. Until I felt her, how weak she was beneath the last of the family magic holding her to me.
My fault.
All my fault.
The family power coiled inside her, the remains of our shared magic humming softly, though it felt as diminished as she did. Her Sidhe soul sighed as Shaylee embraced her, replenished her. At least the gaping wound sealed, though I could feel the scarred edges of it and the way it slowed Gram's flow of magic.
"Gram," I choked out. "I'm so sorry." More tears. How had I failed her, of all people? Who never, ever once failed me.
Her hand slid over the covers slowly, a pale seeker finally finding my own. She squeezed gently and sighed. "You did what we raised you to do," Gram said. "You acted like a Hayle and took responsibility. I was the one who failed."
She'd finally cracked the rest of the way, clearly. "Gram-"
She closed her eyes, falling still for a moment and I did the same. Not the time to argue with her, I guess. Instead, I held her hand and flooded her with power and as much love as I could, still crying, more so as tears trickled from the corners of her eyes, too.
"Girl," Gram whispered. "I love you so much. You are truly the sister of my heart. Everything I've done, everything, has been for you." Her eyes opened again. "And I wouldn't change a thing."
I heard a soft sigh beside me, looked up to see Mom turning away, face twisted in grief.
I didn't need that kind of pressure right now. "I'm giving you back the family magic." Not only would it restore her-at least that was my hope-but I knew now it was the right thing to do. "I can't focus on what I have to do if I have the coven to worry about."
Gram's grip on my hand tightened, the fierce rejection in her eyes so powerful I actually felt better. "Just try it," she said. Coughed softly. "You have to lead this family. They need you." She paused, smiled a sweet smile, one I hadn't seen on her face since she regained her sanity. "We'll do it together." Her head turned, gaze going to Mom who spun around again. "All of us." Gram faced me, eyes shining with more tears. "I am so proud of you, girl," she said. "You are the daughter to me my poor Miriam never had the chance to be." Mom choked, fell still, hands clutched together, pressed to her chest. "It terrifies me, you know that? Sending you out there, to do the elements know what." Gram's cackle ended in a soft wheeze. "But I cheer you on every single time." She pulled on my hand and I leaned closer. "What an Enforcer you would have made," she breathed in my ear. Her free hand rose, fingers tracing over my cheek. "I always knew you were special. That you would be able to handle whatever this crazy life brought to you. And I was right."
Her hand dropped to the covers with a dull thud as her eyelids drooped. Sassafras's purr increased in volume as his power washed over her, calming her. She twitched, a little frown on her face as though she fought him, before sighing and falling into sleep.
I stayed there, frozen by her words, by her love, free hand pressed to my mouth to keep from sobbing out loud, still holding her hand.
So small and cold in mine.
Sassafras settled, amber eyes closing, nose to Gram's cheek as Mom circled the bed and helped me stand, guiding me from the room.
I leaned against the wall, entire being vibrating with the fear Gram wasn't going to be okay. That she said all those things because she knew she was dying. But Mom's hug came with a hearty dose of reassurance, as did Lula's kind smile.
"I promise," the young healer said, "Ethpeal isn't going anywhere."
"For now" hung between us. But I'd take it.
"Syd," Mom said softly, "you have to understand. Your grandmother has been through so much, from her days as an Enforcer, her seventeen years when her mind was lost to us." Mom dabbed at her own tears. "Her body and mind are simply wearing out."
Too many battles. Too much grief and loss and endless suffering.
It had to get better from here for her. And I vowed, standing there outside her door, feeling the subtle support of Sassafras's power, I would make sure she had nothing but happiness from here on in.
If I had to kill anyone who came near her to do it.
***
