The Cursed Blood, стр. 34
It’s said more than a few foolish folks over the years who got a little too persistent into trying to force her out of retirement just up and vanished. This rumor persisted long enough for most everyone to just give her and her cottage in the woods a wide respectful berth.
For some odd reason though, it was said that she had seemed to always drop everything to answer whenever Gramps dropped a line. Something I was wise enough not to ask about.
No one really knew (and those that are in the know outright refuse to talk about it) what happened to her brother, or what caused the rift that drove her from serving Feydom as Oracle. And oddly, all records of them both in general just up and vanished into thin air and anyone who was anyone of great importance seemed to just quite conveniently forget. It’s not a pretty or pleasant story.
Nor is it one I’m quite ready to tell.
Grandma Mary smoothed her dress with her hands, sauntered to the room’s sofa, sat herself down, and took up a long-necked wine glass, watching us wander in with a strangely troubled and weary look on her aristocratically pretty face.
“What’s a Clairvoyant?” I whispered to Gramps, who only laughed in answer.
“In layman’s terms, Ben, I read minds… Among other things,” she explained with a wink as she sipped at her wine. “And, to answer that other question worming about that beautiful mind of yours… Here at the Reunion Inn, the veil, meaning the walls between the realms of the living and dead, are sufficiently thin enough to allow some of us to cross over once a year, as permitted, for a time—the rest can be summoned, for a price, of course.” She smiled as she took another sip. “Those Rover witches definitely have a lucrative racket. Preying on all those poor rich sods who pay a king’s ransom for a weekend with their lost loved ones. It’s tragic and sad, though I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“Did often enough with me,” Gramps grumbled as he took up one of the lounge chairs. I wanted to join them but found my legs couldn’t move, feeling as heavy as lead weights as a disturbing realization settled in. My Gran was a ghost…
“Dear, your idea of a romantic night out is burgers at the Wayfarers… Not exactly a glamorous night out on the town to a society girl such as myself.” She laughed lightly and offered him a smile to sooth his obviously wounded pride. “It is, however, your simplicity that I love ever so much.” She paused and eyed me, offering up a warm smile as she patted the cushion next to her. “He doesn’t know how special he is, does he?”
“I doubt it.” Gramps shook his head and looked at the floor, suddenly finding the toe of his work boots quite interesting.
“And it’s not for me to tell him,” she concluded with an understanding nod as I finally broke free of whatever it was that had frozen me in place. “It’s the spectral quivers, Ben. Nothing to be ashamed of. Happens to us all. Even Darklings the first time we see a ghost. You should have seen your grandfather here his first time. Turned white as a sheet and didn’t stop shaking and stuttering for hours.” She explained away my unasked question with a pleasant laugh before I knew I’d even thought it up.
“I’m so, so sorry about your parents, Ben. My son was a good man. He deserved better than to go like he did, even if he was only an accountant… Now that I know he and Karen passed I’ll have to pay them a visit so we can all be together now and then. And, perhaps give them both an earful or two for not dropping his dear old mother a line.”
She sniffed and wiped at her eye, ignoring Gramps’ unsettled look that clearly stated he thought that was an absolutely terrible idea.
“It’s really not fair that you got to spend so little time with them, and all of this is dropped onto you… It’s cruel, really.” She sighed.
“I’m sorry, dear,” Gramps mumbled.
“It’s not you, Artur. It’s genetics, magic, and fate, but this awful business with the Vraad weighing so heavily on the both of you. It troubles me deeply.” She shook her head sadly. “Always knew there was a risk of it all coming to a bad end since that botched job in Athens. Was it the same one—the prince?” she asked pointedly, the question sending a chill of terror down my spine. A Vraad Prince?
Gramps nodded, still staring at his toes.
“My Gods, Artur. A whole family?” She gasped. “The boy’s right, you know. This all has to end before it gets worse. Much, much worse. You have a chance here to make things right. Well, not you.”
She waved off Gramps with a throaty chuckle. “You’re hopeless. You, Ben, you definitely have a choice to make. Though, I don’t envy you it in the least. It won’t be easy, but if you make the right one you will know more happiness than this old fool ever has… But at a terrible cost.”
“Could you, by any chance, tell me the choice that’s the right one and how to avoid those terrible costs?” I asked hesitantly, not quite sure what to say other than that. My question gave them both a good laugh.
“I don’t read tarot cards or crystal balls, my boy. I’m a real witch after all. It sadly doesn’t work that way. All that free will and great mystery nonsense and all.” She waved her hand about and downed the rest of her glass. She snapped her fingers and the room door opened. “I’m sorry to ask,